Namo tassa bhagavato arahato sammāsambuddhassa

Khuddakanikāya

Dhammapada-aṭṭhakathā

(First Part)

Introductory Account of the Text

1.

In a world shrouded by the darkness of great delusion, he, with radiant power, kindled the light of the true Dhamma, seeing to the ends of the world.

2.

Having bowed at the feet of that glorious Fully Enlightened One, and having revered his true Dhamma, and having made añjali to the Sangha,

3.

Coming to each and every cause, skilled in what is Dhamma and what is not, I shall explain the meaning of the Dhammapada, which is truly excellent.

4.

He taught, with a mind stirred by waves of compassion, which indeed increases the joy and delight of gods and humans.

5.

atthavaṇṇanā; Which exists in the island of Tambapaṇṇi, in the language of the island.

6.

It does not accomplish the welfare and prosperity of other beings; may it accomplish the welfare of the entire world.

7.

Thus, wishing with a controlled and proper conduct, I, the Thera Kumārakassapa, with a steadfast mind,

8.

Desiring the stability of the true Dhamma, having been earnestly requested, that language which is excessively lengthy and verbose,

9.

Abandoning and uplifting, into a delightful textual language, the expressions and words of the verses, which were not clear there.

10.

Having clarified only that, the rest in the same meaning, I will speak in another language, bringing forth clarity, bringing joy and delight to the mind, based on meaning and Dhamma.

1. Yamaka Vagga

1. The Story of Cakkhupāla Thera

1.

‘‘Manopubbaṅgamādhammā, manoseṭṭhā manomayā;
Manasā ce paduṭṭhena, bhāsati vā karoti vā;
Tato naṃ dukkhamanveti, cakkaṃva vahato pada’’nti. –

Where was this Dhamma discourse spoken? In Sāvatthi. Concerning whom? Concerning Cakkhupāla Thera.

It is said that in Sāvatthi, there was a householder named Mahāsuvaṇṇa, who was wealthy, rich, and had great possessions, but was without children. One day, having bathed at the bathing place, he was returning, and on the way, seeing a forest tree with branches full of leaves, he thought, "This must be inhabited by a deity of great power." So he had the area beneath it cleaned, had a surrounding wall built, had sand spread, raised flags and banners, adorned the forest tree, and making añjali, he made a vow, "If I were to obtain a son or a daughter, I will make a great offering to you," and then he departed.

pāla. Later, she obtained another son. He named him Cūḷapāla, and the other one he named Mahāpāla. When they came of age, they were bound by marriage. Later, the parents passed away. All the wealth was managed by the elder brother.

At that time, the Teacher, having set in motion the excellent Wheel of Dhamma, gradually arrived and was staying at the Jetavana Monastery, which had been built by Anāthapiṇḍika, the great merchant, having spent fifty-four crores of wealth, establishing many people on the path to heaven and the path to liberation. The Tathāgata, indeed, stayed one rainy season at the Nigrodha Monastery, which had been built by eighty thousand relatives from his mother's side and eighty thousand from his father's side; nineteen rainy seasons at the Jetavana Monastery built by Anāthapiṇḍika; and six rainy seasons at the Pubbārāma, built by Visākhā at the expense of twenty-seven crores of wealth, thus dwelling for twenty-five rainy seasons in dependence on Sāvatthi, considering the greatness of the virtues of the two families. Anāthapiṇḍika and Visākhā, the great female lay followers, regularly went to attend on the Tathāgata twice a day, and they never went empty-handed, thinking, "The young novices will look at our hands." When going for the morning meal, they would take edibles and food; when going for the afternoon meal, they would take the five medicines and eight drinks. In their residences, there were always seats prepared for two thousand bhikkhus each. Whatever anyone desired in terms of food, drink, or medicine, it was available as they wished. Anāthapiṇḍika never asked the Teacher a question even for a single day. It is said that he thought, "The Tathāgata is delicate like a Buddha, delicate like a noble, if he preaches the Dhamma to me, thinking, 'The householder is of great help to me,' he might get tired," so out of excessive affection for the Teacher, he did not ask a question. But as soon as the Teacher sat down, he would say, "This merchant protects me in a place where I should not be protected. For I, having cut off my head, gouged out my eyes, torn out my heart flesh, and given up my life-equal children and wife, adorned and prepared for hundreds of thousands of aeons, more than four incalculable periods, I have fulfilled the perfections only for the sake of preaching the Dhamma to others. He protects me in a place where I should not be protected," and he would give a Dhamma talk.

At that time, seven crores of people lived in Sāvatthi. Of those, having heard the Teacher's Dhamma talk, about five crores of people became noble disciples, and about two crores of people were worldlings. Among those noble disciples, there were only two tasks: in the morning, they would give alms, and in the afternoon, taking perfumes, flowers, etc., having obtained cloth, medicine, and drinks, they would go to hear the Dhamma. Then one day, Mahāpāla, seeing the noble disciples going to the monastery with perfumes, flowers, etc., asked, "Where is this great crowd going?" Hearing that they were going to hear the Dhamma, he thought, "I too will go," and going, he paid homage to the Teacher and sat at the edge of the assembly.

And Buddhas, when teaching the Dhamma, look for the supporting conditions of refuge, precepts, and ordination, and teach the Dhamma according to the disposition, therefore, that day, the Teacher, looking at his supporting conditions, taught the Dhamma, delivering a graduated talk. That is to say, he revealed talk on giving, talk on virtue, talk on heaven, the danger, worthlessness, and defilement of sensual pleasures, and the benefit of renunciation. Having heard that, Mahāpāla the householder thought, "When going to the next world, neither sons nor daughters, nor brothers, nor wealth follow, not even the body goes with oneself, what is the use of household life? I will go forth." At the end of the discourse, he approached the Teacher and requested ordination. Then the Teacher said to him, "Do you have any relatives from whom you need to ask permission?" "I have a younger brother, venerable sir." "Then go and ask him." He replied, "Very well," and paying homage to the Teacher, he went home and summoned his younger brother, saying, "Dear brother, whatever wealth I have in this house, animate or inanimate, all of it is your responsibility, take care of it." "What will you do?" he asked. "I will go forth in the presence of the Teacher." "What are you saying, brother? You are like a mother to me after our mother died, like a father after our father died. You have great wealth in the house, it is possible to make merit even while living at home, do not do this." "Dear brother, having heard the Teacher's Dhamma talk, I am unable to live in household life. For the Teacher has taught the three characteristics, which are exceedingly gentle and subtle, raising them up, the Dhamma is beautiful in the beginning, middle, and end, it is not possible to fulfill that while living in the household, I will go forth, dear brother." "Brother, you are still young, you should go forth in old age." "Dear brother, in old age, even one's own hands and feet are disobedient, they do not act according to one's will, let alone relatives, so I will not do as you say, I will only fulfill the practice of a renunciate."

‘‘The hands and feet become worn out with age, disobedient; Whose strength is destroyed, how will he practice the Dhamma?’’

ganthadhura, but for one who has light habits, who delights in secluded forest abodes, establishing the arising and passing away in the body, developing insight through continuous practice, is called vipassanādhura. "Venerable sir, having gone forth in old age, I will not be able to fulfill the task of studying the texts, but I will fulfill the task of insight, please tell me a meditation subject." Then the Teacher told him a meditation subject up to arahantship.

Paying homage to the Teacher, searching for bhikkhus to go with him, he obtained sixty bhikkhus, and together with them, setting out, going a distance of one hundred and twenty yojanas, they arrived at a large border village, and there, together with his retinue, he entered for alms. Seeing the bhikkhus endowed with good conduct, the people, with delighted minds, prepared seats, invited them to sit, served them with delicious food, and asking, "Venerable sirs, where are you going?" When told, "Wherever is comfortable, lay followers," the wise people, knowing that the venerable ones were looking for a residence for the rainy season, said, "Venerable sirs, if the venerable ones were to stay here for these three months, we would take refuge and observe the precepts." They too, thinking, "We will attain the cessation of becoming depending on these families," accepted.

The people, having taken their agreement, prepared the monastery, provided places for night and day, and gave them. They regularly entered that same village for alms. Then a physician approached them, saying, "Venerable sirs, in a place where many live, there may be discomfort, if that arises, tell me, I will make medicine." On the day of entering the rains, the Thera addressed those bhikkhus and asked, "Friends, how will you spend these three months?" "With four postures, venerable sir." "Is that appropriate, friends? Surely you should be diligent?" "We have come having taken a meditation subject from the living Buddha, and Buddhas cannot be pleased with negligence, they should be pleased with a good intention. For a negligent person, the four woeful states are like one's own home, be diligent, friends." "What about you, venerable sir?" "I will spend it with three postures, I will not stretch out my back, friends." "Good, venerable sir, be diligent."

Then it occurred to him: "If I do not go to that venerable one, who rebukes evil and respects the Dhamma, my head would split into seven pieces; I will go to him." Then:

"Thousand-eyed Sakka, lord of gods, possessing the splendor of divine sovereignty, instantly came and approached Cakkhupāla."

Having approached, he made a sound of footsteps not far from the Thera. Then the Thera asked him, "Who is that?" "I am a traveler, Bhante." "Where are you going, Upāsaka?" "To Sāvatthi, Bhante." "Go, Āvuso." "And where will the Ayya go, Bhante?" "I too will go there." "Then let us go together, Bhante." "I am weak, Āvuso; going with me will be troublesome for you." "I have no pressing business; and going with the Ayya, I will gain one of the ten grounds for meritorious action; let us go together, Bhante." The Thera, thinking, "This will be a good person," said, "Then I will go with you; take a walking stick, Upāsaka." Sakka, having done so, shortening the earth, brought him to Jetavana in the evening. The Thera, hearing the sound of drums and trumpets, asked, "Where is that sound?" "In Sāvatthi, Bhante." "Before, when we were traveling, we went slowly." "I know a direct route, Bhante." At that moment, the Thera considered, "This is not a human, it will be a deva."

"Thousand-eyed Sakka, lord of gods, possessing the splendor of divine sovereignty, having shortened that road, quickly arrived at Sāvatthi."

He led the Thera to the leaf hut built by the younger householder for the Thera's sake, had him sit on a plank, and went to him with the manner of a dear friend, calling out, "Friend, Cūḷapāla!" "What, friend?" "Do you know that the Thera has arrived?" "I do not know; has the Thera arrived?" "Yes, friend, just now I went to the monastery and, having seen the Thera sitting in the leaf hut made by you, I have come," he said and departed. The householder also went to the monastery, and having seen the Thera, weeping while circling at his feet, said, "Seeing this, I did not allow you to ordain, Bhante," and so on, and having made two male and female slaves free, he had them ordained near the Thera, instructing them, "Bring rice gruel and meals, etc., from within the village and attend to the Thera." The novices, having performed their duties, attended to the Thera.

Then one day, monks from distant residences, thinking, "We will see the Teacher," came to Jetavana, and having paid homage to the Tathāgata and the eighty great Theras, while wandering through the monastery, they arrived at the dwelling place of Cakkhupāla Thera, thinking, "We will see this too," they were facing it in the evening. At that moment, a great cloud arose. They, thinking, "Now it is very late in the evening, and a cloud has arisen; we will go and see him in the morning," turned back. The deva, having rained in the first watch of the night, disappeared in the middle watch. The Thera, with aroused energy, was accustomed to walking back and forth, therefore, in the last watch, he descended to the walking path. And then, on the newly rained ground, many indagopaka insects had arisen. They were mostly destroyed while the Thera was walking back and forth. The resident monks did not sweep the Thera's walking place early in the morning. The other monks, thinking, "We will see the dwelling place of the Thera," came and, having seen the dead creatures on the walking path, asked, "Who walks on this?" "Our preceptor, Bhante." They complained, "Look, friends, at the action of the ascetic, having slept and dozed without doing anything when he had eyes, now that he is blind, 'I will walk,' he kills so many creatures, 'I will do good,' he does harm."

Then they went and reported to the Tathāgata, "Bhante, Cakkhupāla Thera, 'I will walk,' kills many creatures." "But was he seen by you killing them?" "No, Bhante." "Just as you do not see him, so too he does not see those creatures. There is no intention to kill for those whose āsavas are destroyed, monks." "Bhante, when there was a basis for Arahantship, why was he born blind?" "Due to his own past action, monks." "What did he do, Bhante?" "Then listen, monks—"

In the past, when a king of Kāsi was reigning in Bārāṇasi, a physician, wandering in villages and towns, practicing medicine, saw a woman with weak eyes and asked, "What is your discomfort?" "I cannot see with my eyes." "Shall I make medicine for you?" "Do so, lord." "What will you give me?" "If you are able to make my eyes natural, I will be your slave with my sons and daughters." He said, "Good," and prepared medicine, and with one medicine alone, her eyes became natural. She thought, "I promised to be his slave with my sons and daughters; he will not treat me with gentleness and proper conduct, I will deceive him." When she was asked by the physician, "How is it, good lady?" she said, "Before, my eyes ached a little, but now they ache even more." The physician, thinking, "This one, intending to deceive me, does not want to give anything, I have no need for the payment given by her; I will make her blind right now," went home and told this matter to his wife. She was silent. He mixed a medicine and, going to her, said, "Good lady, apply this medicine," and had her apply it. Then her two eyes were extinguished like the flame of a lamp. That physician was Cakkhupāla.

Monks, the deed done by my son then followed him from behind. For indeed, that evil deed follows one who carries the yoke like the wheel follows the foot of the ox pulling the burden. Having told this story, connecting the sequence, the King of the Dhamma, sealing the established teaching with the royal seal, spoke this verse—

1.

"Experiences are preceded by mind, led by mind, made by mind.
If one speaks or acts with a defiled mind,
Suffering follows him like the wheel follows the foot of the ox."

Mano (mind) means all the four-plane consciousnesses with the distinctions of the wholesome of the desire realm, etc. In this instance, however, only the mind associated with displeasure and conjoined with aversion, being determined, established, delimited, and restricted by the arising consciousness of that physician at that time, is taken. Pubbaṅgamā (preceded) means accompanied by having gone before it. Dhammā (experiences) means the four Dhammas, namely, qualities, teachings, theory, being without self, and without life. Among these—

"Neither Dhamma nor Adhamma have similar results;
Adhamma leads to hell, Dhamma brings to a good destination." (Theragā. 304; Jā. 1.15.386)—

manopubbaṅgamā (preceded by mind).

Manoseṭṭho (led by mind). Just as chiefs are pre-eminent for thieves, etc., so too, for these also, mind is the chief; mind itself is pre-eminent. Just as various commodities produced from wood, etc., are called "made of wood," etc., so too, being produced from mind, they are called manomayā (made by mind).

Paduṭṭhena (defiled) means defiled by adventitious defilements such as covetousness, etc. For the natural mind is the bhavaṅga-citta (subconscious mind), and that is undefiled. Just as clear water, dirtied by adventitious blue color, etc., is of the nature of blue water, etc., and it is not new water, nor is it the same as the former clear water, so too, this is defiled by adventitious defilements such as covetousness, etc., and it is not a new consciousness, nor is it the same as the former bhavaṅga-citta. Therefore, the Blessed One said, "This mind, monks, is luminous, but it is defiled by adventitious defilements" (A. Ni. 1.49). Thus, manasā ce paduṭṭhena, bhāsati vā karoti vā (if one speaks or acts with a defiled mind), while speaking, he speaks only the four kinds of verbal misconduct; while acting, he does only the three kinds of bodily misconduct; while not speaking and not acting, due to that defiled state of mind with covetousness, etc., he fulfills the three kinds of mental misconduct. Thus, his ten unwholesome courses of action go to complete fulfillment.

Tato naṃ dukkhamanvetī (suffering follows him) means from that threefold misconduct, suffering follows that person; due to the effect of misconduct, whether he goes to the four woeful states, or to a similar state of existence among humans, in this way, physical and mental resultant suffering follows. Like what? Cakkaṃva vahato padaṃ (like the wheel follows the foot of the ox) means like the wheel follows the foot of the ox pulling the burden, yoked to the yoke. Just as that one, pulling even one day, or two, or five, or ten, or half a month, or a month, is not able to turn back or leave the wheel, but when he proceeds forward, the yoke hurts his neck, and when he retreats backward, the wheel strikes his thigh muscles. The wheel, hurting in these two ways, is consequent to his foot; just so, the physical and mental suffering rooted in misconduct follows a person who has fulfilled the three kinds of misconduct in hell, etc., in each and every place where he has gone.

At the end of the verse, thirty thousand monks attained Arahantship together with the discriminations. Even at the attainment, the teaching was meaningful and fruitful.

The Story of Cakkhupāla Thera, the First

2. The Story of Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī

2.Manopubbaṅgamā dhammā (Experiences are preceded by mind) The second verse was spoken in Sāvatthi itself, concerning Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī.

He was known as Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī. When he was sixteen years old, jaundice arose. His mother, looking at her son, said, "Brāhmaṇa, a disease has arisen in your son; have him treated." "Good lady, if I bring a physician, I will have to give food and wages; will you not look at my loss of wealth?" "Then what will you do for him, Brāhmaṇa?" "I will do it so that there is no loss of wealth for me." He went to the physicians and asked, "What medicine do you give for such and such a disease?" Then they tell him whatever bark of a tree, etc. He brings that and makes medicine for his son. While he was doing that, his disease became severe, and he reached an incurable state. The Brāhmaṇa, knowing his weakness, called a physician. He, having looked at him, said, "We have some business; call another physician and have him treated," and having abandoned him, he left. The Brāhmaṇa, knowing his time of death, thinking, "Those who have come to see him will see the property inside the house; I will bring him outside," brought his son out and had him lie down on the veranda outside.

That day, the Blessed One, arising at the powerful dawn from the absorption of great compassion, surveying the world with the Buddha-eye to see those who had performed meritorious deeds in past Buddhas, those whose roots of good had sprung up, those who were capable of being guided, spread the net of knowledge across ten thousand world-systems. Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī appeared within that net as if lying on the outer veranda. The Teacher, seeing him and knowing that he had been brought out from within the house and laid there, considering, "Is there any purpose for me in going there?" saw this: "This young man, having pleased his mind in me, will pass away and be reborn in a golden mansion thirty yojanas in extent in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven, surrounded by a thousand nymphs. The Brahmin, after cremating him, will wander about the cremation ground lamenting. The young deva, beholding his own form adorned with ornaments worth sixty cartloads, three gāvutas in extent, surrounded by a thousand nymphs, reflecting, 'By what action have I obtained this glorious fortune?' and knowing that he had obtained it by pleasing his mind in me, thinking, 'This Brahmin, fearing the loss of wealth, did not have medicine made for me and now goes to the cremation ground and weeps; I will cause him distress,' will come in the guise of Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī and, weeping, will lie down not far from the cremation ground. Then the Brahmin will ask him, 'Who are you?' He will say, 'I am your son, Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī.' 'Where were you reborn?' 'In the Tāvatiṃsa heaven.' 'Having done what deed?' When asked, he will tell how he was reborn by pleasing his mind in me. The Brahmin will ask me, 'Is there such a thing as being reborn in heaven by pleasing one's mind in you?' Then I will say to him, 'It is not possible to determine the number, whether it is so many hundreds, or thousands, or hundreds of thousands,' and I will speak a verse in the Dhammapada. At the end of the verse, eighty-four thousand beings will attain the Dhamma, and Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī will become a Stream-enterer. Likewise, the Brahmin, who had never given before. Thus, seeing that a great attainment of the Dhamma would occur dependent on this clansman," the next day, after attending to his bodily needs, surrounded by a great Saṅgha of bhikkhus, he entered Sāvatthi for alms and gradually went to the door of the Brahmin's house.

At that moment, Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī was lying facing the interior of the house. Then the Teacher, knowing that he could not see him, emitted a ray of light. The young man, thinking, "What is this light?" turned over and saw the Teacher, and thinking, "Because of my foolish, blind father, I was not able to approach such a Buddha to do bodily service, or to give alms, or to hear the Dhamma; now even my hands are not under my control, there is nothing else to be done," he merely pleased his mind. The Teacher, thinking, "This much pleasing of the mind is sufficient for him," departed. As soon as he passed out of the sight of the Tathāgata, with a pleased mind, he passed away and was reborn in a golden mansion thirty yojanas in extent in the deva-world, as if awakened from sleep.

The Brahmin, after cremating his body, was given to weeping at the cremation ground, going to the cremation ground daily and weeping, "Where is my only son? Where is my only son?" The young deva, also looking at his own prosperity, considering, "By what deed did I obtain this?" and knowing, "By pleasing my mind in the Teacher," thinking, "This Brahmin did not have medicine made for me in my time of sickness and now goes to the cremation ground and weeps; it is fitting to cause him some distress," came in the guise of Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī and stood not far from the cremation ground, weeping with outstretched arms. The Brahmin, seeing him, thinking, "I am weeping because of grief for my son; why is he weeping? I will ask him," asked him this verse:

"Adorned, Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī,
Garlanded, anointed with yellow sandalwood;
Why do you weep with outstretched arms,
In the middle of the forest, afflicted?" (vi. va. 1207; pe. va. 186);

That young man said:

"Made of gold, radiant,
A carriage frame has arisen for me;
I do not find a pair of wheels for it,
By that sorrow I give up my life." (va. 1208; pe. va. 187);

Then the Brahmin said to him:

"Made of gold, made of jewels,
Made of ruby, or made of silver;
Tell me, good youth,
I will provide you with a pair of wheels." (vi. va. 1209; pe. va. 188);

Hearing that, the young man, thinking, "This Brahmin did not have medicine made for his son, and seeing me in the likeness of his son, he weeps and says, 'I will make a chariot wheel made of gold and other things;' let it be, I will rebuke him," asking, "How big a pair of wheels will you make for me?" and when he said, "As big as you desire, I will make them," asking for the moon and sun, said:

"That youth said to him,
The moon and sun are both visible here;
My chariot is made of gold,
It shines with that pair of wheels." (vi. va. 1210; pe. va. 189);

Then the Brahmin said to him:

"Foolish are you, young man,
Who asks for what is unattainable;
I think you will die,
For you will not obtain the moon and sun." (vi. va. 1211; pe. va. 190);

Then the young man said to him:

"Is one a fool who weeps for something that is perceptible, or for something that is imperceptible?" and said:

"Coming and going is visible,
The element of color is seen in both ways;
A dead person who has passed away is not seen,
Who here is more foolish than one who weeps?" (vi. va. 1212; pe. va. 191);

Hearing that, the Brahmin, realizing, "He speaks rightly," said:

"Truly you speak, young man,
I am more foolish than one who weeps;
Like a child weeping for the moon,
I long for one who has passed away." (vi. va. 1213; pe. va. 192) –

Having spoken, becoming free from sorrow by his words, praising the young man, he spoke these verses:

"You quenched me, burning,
Like a fire sprinkled with ghee;
As if dousing with water,
You extinguished all fear.

"You drew out my dart,
Sorrow lodged in my heart;
You who, for me overcome with sorrow,
Removed the sorrow for my son.

"I am one who has drawn out the dart, cooled, and extinguished;
I do not grieve, I do not weep,
Having heard you, young man." (vi. va. 1214-1216; pe. va. 193-195);

Then, asking him, "What is your name?" –

"Are you a deva or a gandhabba,
Or are you Sakka, Purindada?
Who are you, whose son are you,
How may we know you?" (vi. va. 1217; pe. va. 196) –

He said. Then the young man –

"He whom you wept for, he whom you mourned,
Having burned your own son in the cremation ground;
I, having done a wholesome deed,
Have gone to the companionship of the Thirty." (vi. va. 1218; pe. va. 197) –

He declared. Then the Brahmin said to him –

"Little or much, we did not see,
Alms being given in our own house;
Or such Uposatha observance,
By what deed have you gone to the deva-world?" (vi. va. 1219; pe. va. 198);

The young man said:

"I was afflicted, suffering, ill,
In a state of distress in my own dwelling;
I saw the Buddha, free from defilement, rid of doubt,
The Sugata, of unparalleled wisdom.

"I, delighted, joyful,
Made a añjali to the Tathāgata;
I, having done that wholesome deed,
Have gone to the companionship of the Thirty." (vi. va. 1220-1221; pe. va. 199-200);

As he was speaking, the Brahmin's whole body was filled with joy. Declaring that joy, he said:

"Wonderful indeed, marvelous indeed,
This is the result of the action of añjali;
I too, with a gladdened mind, with a joyful heart,
Today I go to the Buddha for refuge." (vi. va. 1222; pe. va. 201) –

He said. Then the young man –

"Today go to the Buddha for refuge,
And to the Dhamma and the Saṅgha, with a joyful heart;
Likewise, the five precepts,
Take them up unbroken, complete.

Quickly abstain from killing living beings,
Avoid taking what is not given in the world;
Be free from intoxicants, do not speak falsely,
And be content with your own wife." (vi. va. 1223-1224; pe. va. 202-203) –

He said. He, accepting with "Good," spoke these verses:

"You are a Yakkha who wishes my welfare, a deva who wishes my good;
I will do your bidding, you are my teacher.

"I go to the Buddha for refuge, and also to the unsurpassed Dhamma;
And to the Saṅgha of the King of men, I go for refuge.

"I abstain from killing living beings quickly,
I avoid taking what is not given in the world;
I am free from intoxicants, I do not speak falsely,
And I am content with my own wife." (vi. va. 1225-1227; pe. va. 204-206);

Then the young deva, "Brahmin, there is much wealth in your house; approach the Teacher, give alms, hear the Dhamma, ask questions," and vanished right there.

The Brahmin, going home and addressing his wife, "Good lady, today I will invite the samaṇa Gotama and ask him a question; prepare a feast," and going to the monastery, without greeting the Teacher or exchanging courtesies, stood to one side and said, "Venerable Gotama, consent to a meal today together with the Saṅgha of bhikkhus." The Teacher consented. Knowing of the Teacher's consent, he quickly went to his own dwelling and had prepared choice foods, both hard and soft. The Teacher, surrounded by the Saṅgha of bhikkhus, went to his house and sat on the prepared seat. The Brahmin served respectfully, and a great crowd gathered. It is said that when a wrong-viewed person invites the Tathāgata, two groups of people gather: wrong-viewed people gather thinking, "Today we will see the samaṇa Gotama being harassed by being questioned," and right-viewed people gather thinking, "Today we will see the Buddha's sphere, the Buddha's grace." Then the Brahmin, having finished the meal, approached the Tathāgata, sat on a low seat, and asked a question: "Venerable Gotama, do those who are reborn in heaven without giving alms to you, without making offerings, without hearing the Dhamma, without observing the Uposatha, simply by the pleasing of their minds, exist?" "Brahmin, why do you ask me? Surely your son, Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī, has told you of his own rebirth in heaven by pleasing his mind in me?" "When, Venerable Gotama?" "Did you not today go to the charnel ground weeping, and seeing a young man weeping not far away with outstretched arms, explain the whole story of Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī, declaring the words spoken by two people, saying, 'Adorned, Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī, garlanded, anointed with yellow sandalwood'?" It is because of that that this has become known as the Buddha's word.

After telling that, he said, "Indeed, Brahmin, there is not one hundred or two hundred, but there is no counting of those who are reborn in heaven by pleasing their minds in me." Then the great crowd did not become free from doubt, and knowing their state of doubt, the Teacher resolved, "Let Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī devaputta come with his mansion." He, with his divine form adorned with ornaments, three gāvutas in extent, came and descended from the mansion, paid homage to the Teacher, and stood to one side. Then the Teacher, asking him, "Having done what deed did you obtain this prosperity?" –

"With surpassing beauty, you stand, deva;
Illuminating all directions, like a medicinal herb, a star;
I ask you, deva of great power,
Having been a human, what merit did you do?" –

He recited a verse: “Venerable sir, this prosperity is mine, obtained by gladdening my heart towards you.” “Was it obtained by gladdening your heart towards me?” “Yes, venerable sir.” The multitude, gazing at the deva-putta, expressed their joy, saying, “Wonderful indeed are the qualities of the Buddha! A son of Adinnapubbaka the brahmin, without doing any other merit, has obtained such prosperity simply by gladdening his heart towards the Teacher!”

For them, mind is the forerunner in doing wholesome and unwholesome deeds; mind is chief, mind-made. For the deed done with a gladdened mind does not abandon a person going to the world of gods or the world of humans, just like a shadow. Having related this story, made a connection, and as if sealing the established teaching with the royal seal, the King of Dhamma spoke this verse:

2.“Mind is the forerunner of (all good and evil) states, mind is chief, mind-made.

If one speaks or acts with a pure mind,
Because of that, happiness follows one,
Like a shadow that never departs.”

Here, mano generally refers to all consciousness of the four planes of existence without distinction, but in this context, when specifically defined, determined, and delimited, it refers to the eight types of wholesome consciousness pertaining to the sense-sphere. However, when considering the object, only consciousness associated with joy and accompanied by knowledge is applicable. Pubbaṅgamā means accompanied by, being the foremost goer. Dhammā means the three aggregates beginning with feeling. These are called manopubbaṅgamā because the mind associated with joy is the forerunner of these, in terms of the condition of arising. Just as when many people gather to perform meritorious deeds such as giving robes to a large community of monks, or elaborate offerings, or listening to the Dhamma, or making garlands, perfumes, and offerings, and someone asks, “Who is the forerunner of these?” it is said that whoever is the cause for them, relying on whom they perform those meritorious deeds, that person, whether Tissa or Phussa, is called their forerunner; this should be understood in the same way. Thus, in terms of the condition of arising, mind is the forerunner of these, hence manopubbaṅgamā. For they cannot arise without the mind arising, but the mind arises even when some mental factors do not arise. Similarly, in terms of dominance, mind is chief of these, hence manoseṭṭhā. Just as a man who is the head of a group is called the chief of the group, so too, mind is the chief of these. Just as items made of gold are called golden, so too, these, being produced from the mind, are called manomayā.

Pasannena means gladdened with qualities such as non-covetousness. Bhāsati vā karoti vā means speaking with such a mind, one speaks only the four kinds of verbal good conduct; acting, one does only the three kinds of bodily good conduct; not speaking, not acting, one fulfills the three kinds of mental good conduct by way of that mind being gladdened by non-covetousness etc. Thus, the ten paths of wholesome action go to fulfillment for him.

Tato naṃ sukhamanveti means happiness follows that person because of that threefold good conduct. Here, wholesome (deeds) pertaining to the three planes of existence are intended; therefore, due to the power of wholesome conduct in the three planes, the physical and mental resultant happiness, whether based on the body or other objects, or without any basis, follows the person reborn in a happy destination or standing in a place of experiencing happiness in a bad destination, meaning it does not abandon him. Like what? Chāyāva anapāyinī - just as a shadow, being connected to the body, goes when the body goes, stands when it stands, sits when it sits, and one cannot turn it away by saying "turn back with gentle or harsh words" or by striking it. Why? Because it is connected to the body. In the same way, the physical and mental happiness of these ten paths of wholesome action, with habitual wholesome roots, differentiated as pertaining to the sense-sphere etc., does not abandon (one) like a shadow that never departs, in every place one goes.

At the end of the verse, eighty-four thousand beings attained the Dhamma, Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī devaputta was established in the fruit of Stream-entry, as was Adinnapubbaka the brahmin. He scattered such great wealth in the Dispensation of the Buddha.

The Story of Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī is the Second.

3. The Story of the Elder Tissa

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma-teaching, beginning with “He abused me,” while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning the Elder Tissa.

It seems that the venerable Elder Tissa was the son of the Buddha's paternal aunt, and having gone forth in old age, enjoying the gain and honor that arose for the Buddhas, being stout of body, wearing robes that were asked for and re-asked for, he usually sat in the middle of the monastery, in the assembly hall. Visiting monks, who came to see the Tathāgata, seeing him, thinking "this will be a great elder," would approach him and inquire about his duties, ask about massaging his feet, etc. But he remained silent. Then a young monk, asking him, "How many years (of seniority) do you have?" and being told, "There is no year, we went forth in old age," rebuked him, saying, "Friend, you are ill-mannered, old man! Don't you know your own measure? Having seen so many great elders, you don't even do the minimum of respect, you remain silent when asked about your duties, you don't even have a bit of remorse!" He, generating the pride of a Khattiya, asked, "To whom have you come?" When they said, "To the Teacher," he said, "But you should take note of me, 'who is this?', I will cut off your roots!" And crying, sorrowful and depressed, he went to the Teacher. Then the Teacher asked him, "Tissa, why have you come sorrowful, depressed, with tearful face, weeping?" Those monks, (thinking) "lest he go and cause some disturbance," went with him and, having paid homage to the Teacher, sat down to one side. Being asked by the Teacher, he said, "These monks are abusing me, venerable sir." "Where were you sitting?" "In the middle of the monastery, in the assembly hall, venerable sir." "Did you see these monks coming?" "Yes, I saw them, venerable sir." "Did you rise to greet them?" "No, venerable sir." "Did you ask about taking their bowl and robe?" "No, venerable sir." "Did you ask about (providing) duties or water?" "No, venerable sir." "Did you bring out a seat, pay homage, and massage their feet?" "No, venerable sir." "Tissa, all these duties should be done for elderly monks; it is not proper to sit in the middle of the monastery without doing these duties; the fault is yours, ask these monks for forgiveness!" "They abused me, venerable sir, I will not ask them for forgiveness!" "Tissa, don't do that, the fault is yours, ask them for forgiveness!" "I will not ask for forgiveness, venerable sir!" Then, when the monks said to the Teacher, "He is difficult to admonish, venerable sir," the Teacher said, "Monks, it is not only now that he is difficult to admonish, he was difficult to admonish in the past as well." When they said, "Now his being difficult to admonish is known by us, venerable sir, what did he do in the past?" he said, "Then, monks, listen!" and related the past.

In the past, when a king named Bārāṇasirañña was ruling in Bārāṇasī, a hermit named Devila, having lived in the Himalayas for eight months, wanting to dwell near the city for four months in order to partake of salt and sour gruel, came from the Himalayas and, seeing children at the city gate, asked, "Where do ascetics who have arrived, dwell in this city?" "In the potter's hall, venerable sir." The hermit, going to the potter's hall and standing at the door, said, "If it is not too much trouble for you, good potter, we would like to spend one night in the hall." The potter said, "There is no need for me to be in the hall at night, the hall is large, dwell as you please, venerable sir," and he handed over the hall. After he had entered and sat down, another hermit named Nārada, having come from the Himalayas, asked the potter for one night's lodging. The potter, thinking, "Whether he will want to live together with the one who came first or not, I will extricate myself," said, "If the one who came first approves, venerable sir, then dwell according to his liking." He approached him and asked, "If it is not too much trouble for you, teacher, we too would like to spend one night here." When he said, "The hall is large, enter and dwell to one side," he entered and sat down in the other part of the hall from Devila, who had entered earlier. Both of them engaged in amiable conversation and lay down.

At bedtime, Nārada took note of Devila's sleeping place and the door, and lay down. But Devila, as he was lying down, did not lie down in his sleeping place, but lay across the doorway. Nārada, going out at night, stepped on his matted hair. When he said, "Who stepped on me?" he replied, "Teacher, it was I." "False ascetic, having come from the forest, you stepped on my matted hair!" "Teacher, I did not know you were lying here, forgive me," and saying this, he went outside, while he was still crying. The other, thinking, "This one might step on me even when entering," turned around and lay down with his head at the foot of the bed. Nārada, as he was entering, thinking, "I have already offended the teacher once, now I will enter by the side of his foot," stepped on his neck as he was coming. When he said, "Who is that?" he replied, "It is I, teacher!" and he said, "False ascetic, having first stepped on my matted hair, now you step on my neck, I will curse you!" "Teacher, there is no fault of mine, I did not know you were lying down like this, I entered (thinking), 'I have already offended him once, now I will enter by the side of his foot,' forgive me!" "False ascetic, I will curse you!" "Do not do so, teacher!" He, disregarding his words -

“The sun, with its thousand rays, constant heat,
Dispeller of darkness;
At sunrise,
May your head split into seven pieces!” –

He cursed him thus. Nārada (said), "Even as I was saying that there was no fault of mine, you cursed me, may the head of the one who is at fault split, not the head of the innocent one!" and said -

“The sun, with its thousand rays, constant heat,
Dispeller of darkness;
At sunrise,
May your head split into seven pieces!” –

He cursed. He, however, being of great power, remembered forty aeons in the past and forty in the future, eighty aeons. Therefore, pondering "upon whom will the curse fall?", realizing "upon the teacher," and feeling compassion for him, he prevented the rising of dawn with his psychic power.

The townspeople, (seeing) that dawn was not breaking, went to the royal palace and cried, "Lord, while you are ruling, dawn is not rising, make dawn rise for us!" The king, looking over his bodily actions etc., not seeing anything improper, thinking "what could be the cause?", suspecting that "it must be a dispute between ascetics," asked, "Are there ascetics in this city?" When they said, "There are, lord, they came to the potter's hall yesterday evening," at that very moment the king, with torches being carried, went there and, having paid homage to Nārada, sat down to one side and said -

“Activities do not proceed, Nārada, in Jambudīpa;
Why is the world in darkness? Tell me when asked.”

Nārada, having explained all that occurrence, (said) "Because of this reason, I was cursed with this curse." Then I said, "There is no fault of mine. May the curse fall upon the one who is at fault," and I cursed. Having cursed, while considering, "Upon whom will the curse fall?" and seeing, "At the time of sunrise, the teacher's head will split into seven pieces," out of compassion for him, I do not allow the dawn to rise. (Devila asked) "But how, venerable sir, could there be no danger?" (Nārada said) "If he were to ask forgiveness from me, there would be no danger." (Devila said) "Then ask forgiveness." When (Devila) was told, "This one, O Great King, attacked me on my matted hair and neck; I will not ask forgiveness from this false ascetic with matted hair," (the king pleaded) "Ask forgiveness, venerable sir, do not do this." (Devila responded) "I will not ask forgiveness." Even when (Nārada) said, "Your head will split into seven pieces," he still did not ask forgiveness. Then the king, thinking, "You will not ask forgiveness of your own accord," had him seized by the hands, feet, stomach, and neck, and made him prostrate at Nārada's feet. Nārada also, saying, "Arise, teacher, I forgive you," said, "Great King, he does not ask forgiveness sincerely. Not far from the city, there is a lake. Have him placed there in water up to his neck, with a lump of clay on his head." The king had it done accordingly. Nārada addressed Devila, "Teacher, when I release (my) power and the sun's heat rises, submerge in the water and emerge elsewhere and go." As soon as the lump of clay was touched by the sun's rays, it split into seven pieces; he submerged and fled elsewhere.

The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma talk, said, "Then, monks, the king was Ānanda, Devila was Tissa, and Nārada was I myself. Thus, even then, he was difficult to admonish." Addressing Tissa Thera, (the Buddha) said, "Tissa, for a bhikkhu who thinks, 'He abused me, he struck me, he defeated me, he robbed me,' hatred is not appeased. But for one who does not harbor such thoughts, it is appeased." And saying this, He spoke these verses:

3.

"He abused me, he struck me, he defeated me, he robbed me;
Those who harbor such thoughts, their hatred is not appeased."

4.

"He abused me, he struck me, he defeated me, he robbed me;
Those who do not harbor such thoughts, their hatred is appeased."

Akkocchi: he abused. Avadhī: he struck. Ajinī: he defeated, either by producing false witnesses, or by argumentative refutation, or by doing something superior. Ahāsi me: he stole something of mine, even a little, such as a bowl etc. Ye ca taṃ: whoever, whether deities or humans, laypersons or renunciates, harbor the anger based on "He abused me," etc., like a cart's yoke with straps, or like wrapping rotten fish etc. with kusa grass repeatedly, their hatred, once arisen, is na sammati: not appeased, does not subside. Ye ca taṃ nupanayhanti: those who, due to lack of mindfulness or inattention, or due to contemplating kamma, etc., do not harbor that anger based on abuse etc., (thinking) "Perhaps even you, blameless (as you are), were abused, struck, or defeated by producing false witnesses in a previous life; perhaps you forcibly stole something from someone; therefore, even being blameless, you experience abuse etc." Thus, they do not harbor (anger). Even hatred that arises through negligence in them is appeased by this non-harboring, like a fire without fuel.

At the end of the discourse, a hundred thousand monks attained the fruits beginning with stream-entry. The Dhamma talk was beneficial to the multitude. And he who was difficult to admonish became easy to admonish.

The Story of Tissa Thera, the Third.

4. The Story of Kāḷī the Yakkha Woman

Na hi verena this Dhamma talk was spoken by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning a certain barren woman.

It seems that a certain householder's son, when his father had passed away, taking care of all the work in the fields and in the house himself, looked after his mother. Then his mother said to him, "Dear son, I will bring a young woman for you." "Mother, do not say such a thing; I will look after you as long as I live." "Son, you alone do the work in the fields and in the house, so I do not have any mental happiness. I will bring (a wife)." He repeatedly refused, but then became silent. She, wanting to go to a certain family, left the house. Then her son, asking her, "Which family are you going to?" and when she said, "To such-and-such family," forbidding her to go there, indicated a family of his own liking. She went there and asked for a young woman (in marriage for her son). After spending the day, she brought her and made her (his wife) in his house. She was barren. Then his mother (said), "Son, you ordered a young woman according to your own liking, but now she has turned out to be barren, and the family will be without offspring. The lineage will not continue. Therefore, shall I bring another young woman for you?" Even though he said, "Enough, mother," she spoke repeatedly. The barren woman, hearing that conversation, thought, "Sons cannot transgress the words of their parents. Now, bringing another woman who can bear children, he will enjoy me as if I were a slave. Why don't I myself bring a young woman?" Thinking thus, she went to a certain family and asked for a young woman for him. When they refused, saying, "What is this you are saying, madam?" she pleaded, "I am barren, and the family will be without offspring. But if your daughter obtains a son or daughter, she will become the mistress of the household. Give her to my husband," and having obtained their agreement, she brought her and made her (his wife) in her husband's house.

Then this occurred to her: "If she obtains a son or daughter, she herself will become the mistress of the household. It is fitting to do something so that she does not obtain a child." Then she said to her, "Mother, when a fetus is established in your womb, you should inform me." She, agreeing, said, "Good." When a fetus was established, she informed her. The other one, herself always giving her rice gruel, gave her medicine to cause a miscarriage along with the food, and the fetus was aborted. When a fetus was established a second time, she informed (her), and the other one caused a miscarriage in the same way a second time. Then the neighboring women asked her, "Is it that your co-wife is causing trouble?" She, reporting that matter, was told, "You foolish woman, why did you do such a thing? Fearing that you will be the mistress, she mixes medicine in (your food) to abort the fetus, so your fetus is aborted. Do not do so again." Told thus, she did not speak the third time. Then the other one, seeing her belly, said, "Why did you not tell me that the fetus was established?" She, being told, "Having brought me (here), you deceived me and caused a miscarriage twice. Why should I tell you?" thought, "Now I am destroyed." Watching for her carelessness, when the fetus was developed, obtaining an opportunity, she mixed medicine (in her food) and gave it to her. Because the fetus was developed, being unable to descend, it was displaced sideways, a severe pain arose, and she reached the point of risking her life. She (the pregnant wife) said, "I have been ruined by you. You yourself brought me (here), and you yourself destroyed the fetuses all three times. Now I too will perish. Having died from here, may I be reborn as a yakkha woman, able to devour your children," and having made that wish, she died and was reborn as a cat in that very house. The husband, taking the other one (the barren wife), beat her severely, striking her with his knee and ankle joints, saying, "You have caused the destruction of my lineage." She, from that very illness, died and was reborn there as a hen.

Not long after, the hen laid eggs. The cat came and ate those eggs. The second time and the third time, she ate them. The hen thought, "Having eaten my eggs three times, now she wants to eat me too. Having died from here, may I be able to devour her along with her children," and having made that wish, she died from there and was reborn as a leopard in the forest. The other one was reborn as a deer. When she gave birth, the leopard came and ate her children three times. The deer, at the time of death, (thought), "Having eaten my children three times, now she will eat me too. Having died from here, may I be able to devour her along with her children," and having made that wish, she died from there and was reborn as a yakkha woman. The leopard also, in the same way, having died from there, was reborn as a daughter of a good family in Sāvatthi. Having grown up, she went to her husband's family in a village on the border, and later, she gave birth to a son. The yakkha woman, approaching in the guise of a dear friend of hers, asking, "Where is my friend?" and being told, "She has given birth inside the birthing room," (said) "I will see whether she has given birth to a son or a daughter." Entering the birthing room, as if looking, she took the baby and devoured it and left. Again, she ate (the child) in the same way the second time. The third time, the other one, being heavy with child, addressed her husband, "Husband, in this place, a yakkha woman comes and devours my two sons. Now, I will go to my family's house and give birth." Going to her family's house, she gave birth.

At that time, that yakkha woman had gone for her turn for water. The yakkha women of Vessavaṇa bring water from Anotatta Lake in a continuous series. They are released after four or five months. Other yakkha women, with exhausted bodies, even reach the end of their lives. But she, having just been released from her turn for water, going to that house quickly, asked, "Where is my friend?" (They said) "Where will you see her? In this place, a yakkha woman comes and eats each child that is born to her; therefore, she has gone to her family's house." She, (thinking) "Wherever she goes, she will not escape me," her mind stirred up by the force of her hatred, rushed towards the city. The other one also, on the naming day, having bathed the child and named it, (said), "Husband, now we will go to our own house." Taking the child, going along the road through the middle of the monastery with her husband, giving the child to her husband, having bathed in the monastery's pond while her husband was bathing, emerging, standing suckling her child, seeing the yakkha woman coming, recognizing (her), crying out loudly, "Husband, come quickly, this is that yakkha woman, come quickly, this is that yakkha woman!" being unable to remain standing until he came, turning back, she rushed towards the inner monastery.

At that time, the Teacher was teaching the Dhamma in the midst of the assembly. She, having laid the child at the foot of the Tathāgata, said, "This one is given to you by me; give life to my son." Sumana, the deity dwelling in the doorway, did not allow the yakkha woman to enter. The Teacher, addressing Ānanda Thera, said, "Go, Ānanda, call that yakkha woman." The Thera called (her). The other one said, "Venerable sir, she is coming." The Teacher, saying, "Let her come, do not make a noise," having said this to her who had come and was standing (there), (said) "Why do you do this? If you had not come into the presence of a Buddha like me, your hatred would have been established for an aeon, like that of snakes and mongooses, or of owls and crows. Why do you make hatred for hatred? For hatred is appeased by non-hatred, not by hatred." And saying this, He spoke this verse:

5.

"For hatreds are never appeased here by hatred;
But they are appeased by non-hatred: this is the eternal law."

Na hi verena: just as, by washing a place stained with impure things such as saliva and mucus with those same impure things, one cannot make it clean and odorless, but rather that place becomes even more impure and foul-smelling; even so, by retaliating against one who abuses, by retaliating against one who strikes, one cannot appease hatred with hatred, but rather one only creates more and more hatred. Thus, hatreds are never appeased by hatred at any time, but rather they only increase. Averena ca sammantī: but just as those impure things such as saliva etc., being washed away by clear water, are destroyed, and that place becomes clean and fragrant; even so, by non-hatred, by the water of patience and loving-kindness, by wise attention, by reflection, hatreds are appeased, calmed, and brought to non-existence. Esa dhammo sanantano: this cessation of hatred by non-hatred is the ancient law, the path followed by all Buddhas, Paccekabuddhas, and arahants.

At the end of the verse, the yakkha woman was established in the fruit of stream-entry. And the Dhamma talk was beneficial to the assembled company.

The Teacher said to that woman, "Give me your child." "I am afraid, Bhante." He said, "Do not fear, there will be no obstacle for you because of this." She gave him the child. Having kissed and embraced it, she gave it back to the mother and began to weep. Then the Teacher asked her, "What is this?" "Bhante, even when I was making a living however I could, I could not fill my belly; how will I live now?" Then the Teacher consoled her, saying, "Do not worry," and said to the woman, "Take her, settle her in your house, and tend to her with the best rice-gruel and cooked rice." She took her, established her in the back of the house, and tended to her with the best rice-gruel and cooked rice. At the time of threshing the rice, it seemed to her as if someone was striking her head with the end of a pestle. She called her friend and said, "I cannot live in this place; settle me elsewhere." Even when settled in such places as the pestle hall, the water pot, the hearth, the rubbish heap, and the village gate, she rejected them all, saying, "Here it seems as if someone is smashing my head with a pestle; here children pour out leftover water; here dogs lie down; here children make a mess; here they throw rubbish; here village children practice aiming." Then, having settled her outside the village in a secluded spot, she tended to her by bringing her the best rice-gruel and so on. That ogress thought thus: "This friend of mine is now very helpful; come, let me do some service in return." She announced to her friend, "This year there will be abundant rain; sow crops in the high ground. This year there will be scarce rain; sow crops only in the low ground." The crops sown by other people were destroyed by too much or too little water, but hers flourished exceedingly. Then the other people asked her, "Mother, the crops sown by you are not destroyed by too much or too little water; you do your work knowing whether there will be abundant or scarce rain; what is this?" "Our ogress friend tells us whether there will be abundant or scarce rain; we sow crops in the high and low grounds according to her word, therefore it prospers for us. Do you not see? Rice-gruel and so on are constantly being carried from our house; they are taken to her; you also bring her the best rice-gruel and so on, and she will look after your work too." Then all the townspeople paid homage to her. And from then on, looking after the work of all, she attained the highest gain and had a large following. Later she established eight alms-meals (salākabhatta). These are given even to this day.

The Story of Kāḷayakkhinī, the Fourth.

5. The Story of the Kosambakas

Pare ca na vijānantī ("Others do not understand") This Dhamma-discourse was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning the bhikkhus of Kosambi.

In Kosambi, in Ghositārāma, two bhikkhus lived, each with a following of five hundred: a Vinaya-holder and a Dhamma-preacher. One day, the Dhamma-preacher, having performed his bodily ablutions, left the remains of rinsing water in the water pot in the bathroom. Later, the Vinaya-holder entered there, saw the water, and came out and asked the other, "Āvuso, did you leave the water?" "Yes, āvuso." "Do you not know that there is an offense (āpatti) here?" "No, I do not know." "There is an offense here, āvuso." "Then I will make amends." "But if, āvuso, it was done unintentionally and through forgetfulness, there is no offense." He held the view that there was no offense in that offense. The Vinaya-holder also announced to his dependents, "This Dhamma-preacher does not know that he is incurring an offense even when he commits it." Seeing his dependents, they said, "Your preceptor does not know that he is incurring an offense even when he commits it." They went and announced it to their preceptor. He said thus: "This Vinaya-holder first said there was no offense, and now he says there is an offense; he is a liar." They went and said, "Your preceptor is a liar." Thus they increased their quarrel with each other. The Vinaya-holder, having obtained an opportunity, performed the act of suspension (ukkhepanīyakamma) against the Dhamma-preacher for not seeing the offense. From then on, their supporters who gave them requisites, the bhikkhunis who accepted their instructions, the guardian deities, the deities who were in contact with them, and the deities dwelling in the sky, all the worldlings up to the Brahma-world were divided into two factions. Starting with the Four Great Kings, up to the highest Akaniṭṭha heaven, a single roar of uproar went forth.

Having related the Laṭukika Jātaka (Jā. 1.5.39 ff), (the Teacher) said: "Bhikkhus, be harmonious, do not quarrel. For relying on quarrel, hundreds of thousands of quail met their destruction," (and he) related the Vaṭṭaka Jātaka (Jā. 1.1.118). Even when the word of the Blessed One was not heeded by them, another Dhamma-speaker, not wanting to harm the Tathāgata, said, "May the Blessed One, the Lord of the Dhamma, remain apart; may the Blessed One, free from concern, abide devoted to the bliss of dwelling in the present Dhamma; we ourselves will settle this dispute, quarrel, contention, and strife" (Mahāva. 457; Ma. Ni. 3.236). When this was said, he brought forth the past:

"In the past, bhikkhus, in Bārāṇasī there was a king of Kāsi named Brahmadatta." Having related how Brahmadatta seized the kingdom of Dīghīti, the king of Kosala, and had his father killed, who was living in disguise, and how Dīghāvu Kumāra gave him his life, and from then on their harmony, (the Teacher said): "For those kings, bhikkhus, wielding rods and wielding weapons, there was such patience and gentleness. Here, bhikkhus, it would be fitting for you, having gone forth in such a well-proclaimed Dhamma and Discipline, to be patient and gentle." Even after advising them thus, he was not able to make them harmonious. Being disgusted by that crowded dwelling, he thought, "Now I dwell in discomfort, being crowded, and these bhikkhus do not heed my word. Suppose I were to live alone, withdrawn from the community." Having gone for alms in Kosambi, without informing the community of bhikkhus, alone, taking his bowl and robe, he went to Bālakaloṇaka village, and there, having related the solitary practice of Bhagu Thera, and having related the benefits of harmony to three young men in Pācīnavamsa Migadāya, he approached Pāḷileyyaka. There, it is said, the Blessed One, depending on Pāḷileyyaka, dwelling in the Rakkhita forest grove at the foot of a fine sala tree, spent the rains comfortably, being attended to by the elephant Pāḷileyyaka.

The lay followers residing in Kosambi, going to the monastery and not seeing the Teacher, asked, "Where, Bhante, is the Teacher?" "He has gone to Pāḷileyyaka forest grove." "What is the reason?" "He tries to make us harmonious, but we were not harmonious." "Bhante, having gone forth in the presence of the Teacher, were you not harmonious when he was making harmony?" "Yes, āvuso." "These men, having gone forth in the presence of the Teacher, did not become harmonious even when he was making harmony; relying on these, we were not able to see the Teacher; we will not give them seats, nor will we perform salutations and so on." From then on, they did not even do the minimum courtesy to them. Being withered from lack of food, they soon became upright, and having confessed their faults to each other and asked for forgiveness, they said, "Lay followers, we have become harmonious; may you also be like us as before." "Has the Teacher been asked for forgiveness, Bhante?" "The Teacher has not been asked for forgiveness, āvuso." "Then ask the Teacher for forgiveness; when the Teacher has been asked for forgiveness, we too will be like you as before." Not daring to go to the Teacher's presence during the rains, they spent those rains with difficulty. But the Teacher, being attended to by that elephant, dwelt in comfort. For that elephant also, abandoning the herd, entered that forest grove for the sake of comfortable dwelling.

As he said: "I live crowded by elephants, female elephants, elephant calves, and young elephants; I eat grass with the tips broken off, and they eat my broken branches; I drink turbid water; and when I have come out of the bathing place, the female elephants go along rubbing their bodies against mine. Suppose I were to live alone, withdrawn from the herd" (Mahāva. 467; Udā. 35). Then that elephant, departing from the herd, approached the Rakkhita forest grove of Pāḷileyyaka, the foot of the fine sala tree, where the Blessed One was. Having approached, having paid homage to the Blessed One, looking around and not seeing anything else, he struck the foot of the fine sala tree with his foot, and having smoothed it, he swept the branch with his trunk. From then on, taking a pot with his trunk, he provided water for drinking and washing, and when there was a need for hot water, he prepared hot water. How? With his trunk, he rubbed wood together and produced fire, and throwing wood into it, he lit the fire, and throwing stones into it, he cooked them, and rolling them with a wooden stick, he threw them into a separate small trunk. Then, lowering his trunk, having ascertained that the water was hot, he went and paid homage to the Teacher. The Teacher, saying, "You have heated the water, Pāḷileyyaka," went there and bathed. Then he brought various kinds of fruits and gave them to him. Whenever the Teacher entered the village for alms, taking the Teacher's bowl and robe, he placed them in a vessel and went along with the Teacher. Reaching the outskirts of the village, the Teacher said, "Pāḷileyyaka, from here you cannot go any further; give me the food bowl and robe," and having taken them, he entered the village for alms. That one also, standing there until the Teacher came out, having performed the welcoming ceremony on his arrival, taking the bowl and robe in the same way as before, having placed them at the dwelling place, having shown his duty, fanned him with a branch. At night, in order to prevent danger from wild animals, taking a large stick in his trunk, thinking, "I will protect the Teacher," he wandered back and forth through the forest grove until dawn. From then on, it is said, that forest grove became known as Pāḷileyyaka's Rakkhita forest grove. When dawn broke, beginning with giving water for the face, he performed all his duties in the same way.

Then a monkey, seeing that elephant rising up and doing the proper conduct toward the Tathāgata day by day, thinking, "I too will do something," wandering about, one day saw stingless honeycomb and, having broken the branch, brought the honeycomb with the branch to the Teacher's presence and, cutting off a banana leaf, placed it there and gave it. The Teacher took it. The monkey, looking to see "Will he use it, or will he not use it?" and seeing him having taken it and sitting down, thinking, "What is this?" took it by the end of the branch, turned it around, and observing it, saw eggs and, gently removing them, gave it again. The Teacher made use of it. He, with a delighted mind, stood dancing, grasping this branch and that branch. Then the branch he had grasped and the branch he had not grasped broke. He, falling on the top of a stump, with his body stuck there, having made his time with his mind pleased with the Teacher, was reborn in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven in a golden mansion thirty yojanas in extent, attended by a thousand nymphs; he became known as the Monkey Deva-son.

The fact that the Tathāgata was being attended to by an elephant named Hatthināga there became known throughout Jambudīpa. From Sāvatthi, great families such as Anāthapiṇḍika and Visākhā the great female lay follower, sent messages to Ānanda Thera: "Please, venerable sir, let us see the Teacher." Monks residing in various regions, who had completed the rains residence (vassā), approached Ānanda Thera and requested, "For a long time, venerable Ānanda, we have not heard a Dhamma talk in the presence of the Blessed One. It would be good, venerable Ānanda, if we could hear a Dhamma talk in the presence of the Blessed One." The Thera, taking those monks, went there, thinking, "It is not appropriate to approach the Tathāgata, who is dwelling alone for three months, with so many monks." He left the monks outside and approached the Teacher alone. Pālileyyaka, seeing him, rushed forward with a stick. The Teacher, looking, said, "Go away, Pālileyyaka, go away. Do not obstruct; this is an attendant of the Buddha." Thereupon, he threw away the stick and inquired about receiving the bowl and robe. The Thera did not give it to him. The elephant thought, "If he is one who has undertaken the practices, he will not place his requisites on the stone slab that is the Teacher’s seat." The Thera placed the bowl and robe on the ground. For those accomplished in the practices do not place their requisites on the seats or beds of their teachers.

The Thera approached the Teacher, paid homage, and sat down to one side. The Teacher, asking, "Ānanda, have you come alone?" and hearing that he had come with five hundred monks, said, "Where are they?" When he said, "Not knowing your mind, I left them outside and came," the Teacher said, "Call them in." The Thera did so. Those monks came, paid homage to the Teacher, and sat down to one side. The Teacher, after exchanging greetings with them, was told by the monks, "Venerable sir, the Blessed One is both extremely delicate as a Buddha and extremely delicate as a noble, it has been difficult for you to live and sit alone for three months. I suppose there was no one to do the duties and provide washing water, etc." "Monks, all my duties were done by Pālileyyaka the elephant. Indeed, it is fitting to live alone when one obtains such a companion. But for one who does not obtain such a companion, it is better to wander alone," said the Teacher and then spoke these three verses in the Nāga Vagga:

“If one finds a prudent friend,
A companion who lives righteously and is wise,
Overcoming all dangers,
One should live with him, joyful and mindful.

“If one does not find a prudent friend,
A companion who lives righteously and is wise,
Like a king who abandons a conquered realm,
One should wander alone like an elephant in the Matanga forest.

“Better is the solitary life,
There is no companionship with a fool;
One should wander alone, doing no evil,
With few cares, like an elephant in the Matanga forest.” (mahāva. 464; ma. ni. 3.237; dha. pa. 328-330; su. ni. 45-46);

At the end of the verses, all five hundred monks were established in arahantship. Ānanda Thera also announced the message sent by Anāthapiṇḍika and others, saying, "Venerable sir, those five crores of noble disciples, headed by Anāthapiṇḍika, are looking forward to your arrival." The Teacher, saying, "Then take the bowl and robe," had the bowl and robe taken and departed. The elephant went and stood across the path that was taken. "What is the elephant doing, venerable sir?" "Monks, he is expecting to give alms to you. For a long time he has been helpful to me, it is not proper to anger his mind. Turn back, monks," said the Teacher, taking the monks, and turned back. The elephant, entering the forest grove, gathered various fruits such as jackfruit and banana fruits, made a pile, and gave them to the monks the next day. The five hundred monks were unable to consume them all. At the end of the meal, the Teacher, having the bowl and robe taken, departed. The elephant, going in between the monks, stood across the path in front of the Teacher. "What is the elephant doing, venerable sir?" "Monks, he wants to send you off and make me turn back." Then the Teacher said to him, "Pālileyyaka, this is a journey from which I will not turn back. For you, with this existence, there is no jhāna, no vipassanā, and no attainment of the path and fruit. Stay here." Hearing that, the elephant, putting his trunk in his mouth, went behind him crying. If he could have made the Teacher turn back, he would have attended to him in that manner for as long as he lived. But the Teacher, reaching the vicinity of the village, said, "Pālileyyaka, from here on, this is not your place, the human habitation is full of danger. Stay here." He, crying, stood there and, when the Teacher passed out of sight, died with a broken heart. Through his faith in the Teacher, he was reborn in a thirty-yojana golden mansion in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven amidst a thousand nymphs; his name became Pālileyyakadevaputta.

After relating the Kosambika Jātaka (jā. 1.9.10 ff.), he said, "Thus, monks, Dīghāvu Kumāra, even while his parents were being deprived of their lives, did not transgress their advice and later obtained the daughter of Brahmadatta and ruled over the two kingdoms of Kāsi and Kosala. But you, by not following my words, have done what is burdensome," and spoke this verse:

6.

“And others do not realize, ‘Here we shall perish’;
Those who realize it there, thereby become peaceful.”

Pare: Except for the wise, the other quarrelsome ones are called pare. While making noise in the midst of the Saṅgha, they do not realize that "we shall perish, cease, be destroyed, constantly go near death." Ye ca tattha vijānanti: Those who are wise there realize, "We are going near death." Tato sammanti medhagā: Knowing thus, they generate appropriate attention (yonisomanasikāra) and undertake the cessation of conflicts (medhagānaṃ). Then, by that practice, those conflicts subside. Alternatively, pare ca: Those who were previously advised by me, saying "Do not quarrel, monks," but did not accept my advice and transgressed it, are called amāmakā pare. They do not realize that "taking a wrong grasp due to desire, etc., here in the midst of the Saṅgha, we strive for the increase of quarrels, etc." But now, carefully considering, those wise individuals among you who realize that "previously, striving due to desire, etc., we acted unwisely," then, relying on those wise individuals, these conflicts now subside. This is the meaning here.

At the end of the verse, the assembled monks were established in the fruits of Stream-entry and so on.

The Fifth: The Story of Kosambī.

6. The Story of Mahākāḷa Thera

Regarding Subhānupassi, the Teacher spoke this Dhamma talk about Cūḷakāḷa and Mahākāḷa while dwelling near Setabya in the Siṃsapāvana.

In many ways, with the Dukkhakkhandha Sutta and so on (ma. ni. 1.163 ff.), he spoke of the danger, repulsiveness, and defilement of sense pleasures. Hearing that, Mahākāḷa thought, "It seems everything must be given up. Neither wealth nor relatives follow one who goes to the next world. What is the use of household life to me? I will go forth." When the crowd had departed after paying homage to the Teacher, he requested ordination from the Teacher. When the Teacher said, "Is there no one who needs to be asked?" he said, "I have a younger brother, venerable sir." Then, when he said, "Well, ask him," he said, "Good, venerable sir," and, going, summoned his younger brother and said, "Take charge of all this property." "What will you do, brother?" "I will go forth in the presence of the Teacher." Unable to turn him back by requesting in various ways, he said, "Good, master, do as you wish." Mahākāḷa went and was ordained in the presence of the Teacher. Cūḷakāḷa also went forth, thinking, "I will go forth, taking my brother." Later, Mahākāḷa, having received higher ordination, approached the Teacher and inquired about the duties in the Dispensation. When the Teacher spoke of the two duties, he said, "Venerable sir, having gone forth in old age, I will not be able to fulfill the duty of study, but I will fulfill the duty of insight." Having requested a meditation subject up to arahantship, he undertook the sosānika dhutaṅga, and after the first watch of the night had passed and everyone had fallen asleep, he would go to the cemetery and return to the monastery at dawn, before everyone had risen.

Then a cemetery guardian named Kālī, a corpse burner, seeing the place where the Thera stood, the place where he sat, and the place where he walked, thought, "Who comes here? I will keep watch on him." Unable to keep watch, one day, lighting a lamp in the cemetery hut itself, she went with her sons and daughters and, hiding to one side, saw the Thera coming in the middle watch of the night. Going to him, she paid homage and said, "Venerable sir, does the venerable one dwell in this place?" "Yes, laywoman." "Venerable sir, it is fitting for those who dwell in the cemetery to learn the observances." The Thera, without saying, "Shall we observe the observances spoken by you?" said, "What is it fitting to do, laywoman?" "Venerable sir, it is fitting for those who live in the cemetery to tell the fact that they live in the cemetery to the cemetery keepers, the chief elder in the monastery, and the village headman." "Thera, for what reason?" "Thieves who have committed crimes, followed closely by the owners of the goods, abandon the goods in the cemetery and flee. Then people cause trouble for the sosānikas. But if they are told, they can ward off danger by saying, 'We know that this venerable one has been living here for such and such a time, he is not a thief.' Therefore, it is fitting to tell them."

"What else is to be done, Thera?" "Venerable sir, it is fitting for the venerable one who lives in the cemetery to avoid fish, meat, sesame cakes, oil, molasses, etc., not to sleep during the day, not to be lazy, to be one who has aroused energy, to be without deceit, without trickery, and to have good intentions. In the evening, when everyone is asleep, one should come from the monastery, and at dawn, before everyone has risen, one should go to the monastery. If, venerable sir, the venerable one, living in this place in this way, will be able to bring the duties of a renunciate to completion, if they bring and throw away a dead body, I will place it on a cloth-covered pyre, honor it with incense and garlands, etc., and perform the funeral rites. If he will not be able, I will place it on a pyre, light a fire, pull it out with a skewer, throw it outside, chop it into pieces with an ax, and burn it in the fire." Then the Thera said to her, "Good, good woman, but would you tell me if you see an object of form?" She assented, saying, "Good." The Thera performed the duties of a recluse in the cemetery according to his inclination. But Cūḷakāḷa Thera, getting up and getting up, thinks of the household life, remembers his children and wife. He thinks, "My brother is doing a very difficult task."

A certain maiden, due to an illness arising suddenly, passed away in the evening, unwithered and unwearied. Her relatives and others took her body along with firewood and oil to the charnel ground in the evening, gave a wage to the charnel ground keeper, entrusting her with "Cremate this," and departed. The charnel ground keeper, removing the cloth covering her, saw her body, which had just died, was still plump, and golden in color. Thinking, "This is a suitable object to show to the Elder," she went, paid homage to the Elder, and said, "Venerable Sir, there is such an object. Please, Venerable Sir, look at it." The Elder, saying, "Good," had the covering removed, and looking from the soles of her feet to the tips of her hair, said, "This form is very plump and golden in color. After you have placed it in the fire and it is caught by great flames, inform me." Then he went to his own dwelling and sat down. She did as he said and informed the Elder. The Elder went and looked. The color of the body, struck repeatedly by the flames, had become like that of a speckled cow; the feet drooped down, the hands were contorted, the thighs and forehead were without skin. The Elder, thinking, "This body, which was boundless in its attraction for those who looked at it just now, has now reached destruction, reached decay," went to his night dwelling, sat down, and contemplating on decay and dissolution, recited this verse:

‘‘Impermanent, indeed, are conditioned things,
Subject to arising and passing away;
Having arisen, they cease;
Their subsiding is happiness.’’ (dī. ni. 2.221, 272; saṃ. ni. 1.186; 2.143; jā. 1.1.95)

Having recited the verse and developed insight, he attained Arahatship together with the discriminations.

When he had attained Arahatship, the Teacher, surrounded by the Sangha of monks, was wandering on tour, and went to Setabya and entered the Simsapa Grove. The wives of Cūḷakāḷa, hearing that "the Teacher has arrived at the Simsapa Grove," sent a message saying, "We will take our husband," and invited the Teacher. It is proper for a monk, who can indicate the arrangement of seats in an unfamiliar place for the Buddhas, to go first. For after arranging a seat for the Buddha in the middle, a seat should be arranged to the right of it for Sāriputta Thera, and to the left for Mahāmoggallāna Thera, and from there onward seats should be arranged on both sides for the Sangha of monks. Therefore, Mahākāḷa Thera, standing in the place for keeping robes, sent Cūḷakāḷa, saying, "Cūḷakāḷa, you go ahead and indicate the arrangement of seats." From the time he was seen, the people of the household, joking with him, spread low seats in the row for the elder monks, and high seats in the row for the new monks. The other one said, "Do not do this; do not arrange the low seats above; arrange the high seats above, the low seats below." The women, as if not hearing his words, said, "What are you doing wandering around? Is it not proper for you to arrange seats? Whom did you ask before ordaining? By whom were you ordained? Why have you come here?" They tore off his lower and upper garments, dressed him in white clothes, placed a flower basket on his head, and sent him, saying, "Go, bring the Teacher. We will arrange the seats." Since he had not remained long in the state of a monk and was certain to revert, he did not know how to be ashamed. Therefore, he went without hesitation in that attire, paid homage to the Teacher, and came back, bringing the Sangha of monks headed by the Buddha. After the meal was over for the Sangha of monks, the wives of Mahākāḷa, thinking, "Our husband was taken by these women, we too will take our husband," invited the Teacher again the next day. Then another monk went for the purpose of arranging the seats. Those women, not getting an opportunity at that moment, had the Sangha of monks headed by the Buddha sit down and gave alms. Cūḷakāḷa had two wives, Majjhimakāḷa had four, but Mahākāḷa had eight. The monks, wanting to do the meal duty, sat down and did the meal duty, and those wanting to go outside got up and left. But the Teacher sat down and did the meal duty. At the end of the meal duty for him, those women said, "Venerable Sir, Mahākāḷa will come after doing the anumodanā for us. You go ahead." The Teacher, saying, "Good," went ahead. Reaching the village gate, the monks complained, "What is this done by the Teacher? Did he do it knowingly, or unknowingly? Yesterday, because Cūḷakāḷa went ahead, an obstacle to ordination arose; today, because another went ahead, no obstacle arose. Now he has come away leaving Mahākāḷa. The monk is virtuous and accomplished in conduct, will an obstacle to his ordination arise?" The Teacher, hearing their words, turned back and stood, asking, "What are you talking about, monks?" They told him the matter. "But monks, do you regard Mahākāḷa as being like Cūḷakāḷa?" "Yes, Venerable Sir." "He has two consorts, this one has eight. "What will he do, Venerable Sir, when he is surrounded by eight?" The Teacher said, "Do not speak like that, monks. Cūḷakāḷa gets up and immediately dwells with many beautiful objects, like a weak tree standing on a precipice. But my son, Mahākāḷa, dwells contemplating the unattractive, like an immovable solid rock mountain," and having said this, he spoke these verses:

7.

“One who dwells contemplating the attractive,
Unrestrained in the senses,
Not knowing moderation in food,
Is lazy, with feeble energy,
That one Māra overcomes, as the wind a weak tree.

8.

“One who dwells contemplating the unattractive,
Well restrained in the senses,
Knowing moderation in food,
Is full of faith, with aroused energy,
That one Māra does not overcome, as the wind a rock mountain.”

Subhānupassiṃ viharantaṃ: dwelling contemplating the attractive, meaning dwelling abandoning the mind to a pleasing object. For the person who takes the sign and the details, taking "the nails are beautiful," taking "the fingers are beautiful," taking "the hands, feet, shanks, thighs, waist, belly, breasts, neck, lips, teeth, face, nose, eyes, ears, eyebrows, forehead, hair are beautiful," taking "hair, body hair, nails, teeth, skin are beautiful," the color is attractive, the form is attractive, this is called one who contemplates the attractive. Thus, that one who dwells contemplating the attractive. Indriyesu: in the six senses, eye and so on. Asaṃvutaṃ: not guarding the doors of the eye and so on. Bhojanamhi cāmattaññuṃ: not knowing moderation in food, because of not knowing this moderation: only for seeking, only for receiving, only for consuming. Moreover, not knowing moderation even in this moderation: only for reflecting, only for discarding; not even knowing this food is lawful, this is unlawful. Kusītaṃ: lazy, dominated by thoughts of sensual desire, ill will, and violence. Hīnavīriyaṃ: without energy, devoid of doing energy in the four postures. Pasahati: overcomes, overwhelms. Vāto rukkhaṃva dubbalaṃ: like a strong wind to a weak tree that has grown on a broken precipice. Just as that wind knocks down even the flowers, fruits, and leaves of that weak tree, breaks even the small branches, breaks even the large branches, and uproots that tree together with its roots, making the roots upward and the branches downward, and goes away, just so the defilement Māra arising internally overcomes such a person, doing even the committing of minor offenses, just as the strong wind knocks down the flowers, fruits, and leaves of a weak tree, doing even the committing of nissaggiya offenses, just as the breaking of small branches, doing even the committing of thirteen sanghādisesa offenses, just as the breaking of large branches, doing even the committing of pārājika offenses, just as uprooting and throwing down with the roots upward and the branches downward, thus after driving him out from the well-proclaimed Teaching, in a few days he is made to attain the state of a householder; thus, the defilement Māra makes such a person behave according to his will, is the meaning.

Asubhānupassi: seeing one of the ten unattractives, engaged in attending to the repulsive, seeing hair as unattractive, seeing body hair, nails, teeth, skin, color, form as unattractive. Indriyesu: in the six senses. Susaṃvutaṃ: well restrained, without taking the sign and so on, with guarded doors. Bhojanamhi ca mattaññuṃ: knowing moderation in food, by rejecting immoderation. Saddhaṃ: endowed with faith, which has the characteristic of believing in action and its result, with mundane faith, and with supramundane faith, which is defined as unwavering confidence in the three objects. Āraddhavīriyaṃ: with aroused energy, with complete energy. Taṃ ve: that such a person, just as a weak wind striking slightly cannot shake a solid rock, so even the weak defilement Māra arising internally does not overcome, he cannot shake or move him, is the meaning.

Those former wives of the Elder, surrounding him, said, "Whom did you ask before ordaining? Now will you become a householder or not?" wanting to take away his robes. The Elder, observing their manner, rose up from his seat and rising up by his power broke the pinnacle of the peaked house into two, and coming through the sky, just as the Teacher was finishing the verse, praising the Teacher's golden-colored body, descended from the sky and paid homage at the feet of the Tathāgata.

At the end of the verse, the monks who had arrived were established in the fruits of Stream-entry and so on.

The Sixth Story about Mahākāḷa Thera.

7. The Story of Devadatta

Anikkasāvo: This Teaching was spoken by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning Devadatta's gaining of the robe in Rajagaha.

At one time, the two chief disciples, taking their respective retinues of five hundred each, asked permission from the Teacher, paid homage, and went from Jetavana to Rajagaha. The residents of Rajagaha, two or three or many together, gave alms to the newcomers. Then one day, Āyasmā Sāriputta, while giving thanks, said, "Lay followers, one gives alms himself but does not encourage others; he obtains wealth in the places where he is reborn, but not retinues. One does not give alms himself, but encourages others; he obtains retinues in the places where he is reborn, but not wealth. One neither gives alms himself nor encourages others; he does not obtain even a mouthful of gruel in the places where he is reborn, he is without protection, without support. One both gives alms himself and encourages others; he obtains both wealth and retinues in hundreds of lives, in thousands of lives, in hundreds of thousands of lives," thus he taught the Dhamma.

A certain wise man, hearing the Dhamma, thought, "Wonderful indeed, marvelous indeed is the teaching of the Dhamma, the cause has been well spoken. It is fitting that I should do the action that produces these two accomplishments," and he invited the Elder, saying, "Venerable Sir, tomorrow accept alms from me." "How many monks do you need, lay follower?" "How many are in your retinue, Venerable Sir?" "About a thousand, lay follower." "Accept alms tomorrow with all of them, Venerable Sir." The Elder consented. The lay follower, wandering in the city street, exhorted, "Mothers, fathers, I have invited a thousand monks, how many monks will you be able to give alms to, how many?" People, according to their ability and means, said, "We will give to ten, we to twenty, we to a hundred." The lay follower said, "Then let us make an assembly in one place and serve together in one place. Let all of you collect sesame seeds, rice, ghee, honey, molasses, and so on," and he had them collected in one place.

Then, a certain householder, giving a scented robe worth a hundred thousand, said, "If your needs for giving are not met, sell this and fulfill what is lacking. If it suffices, give it to whichever bhikkhu you wish." At that time, all his needs for giving were met; there was no lack whatsoever. So he asked the people, "Venerable sirs, this robe has been given by a certain householder, saying such and such, and it has become extra. To whom shall we give it?" Some said, "To Sāriputta Thera." Others said, "The Thera comes and goes only at the time of the mustard harvest; Devadatta is always present, like a water pot, a companion in our auspicious and inauspicious events. Let us give it to him." Even with much discussion, most people said, "It should be given to Devadatta," so they gave it to Devadatta. He cut it, sewed it, dyed it, wore it, and wrapped himself in it, and went about. Seeing him, people said, "This is not suitable for Devadatta, but suitable for Sāriputta Thera. Devadatta wears and wraps himself in what is unsuitable for him." Then a bhikkhu residing in another direction, going from Rājagaha to Sāvatthi, after paying homage to the Teacher and exchanging courteous greetings, being asked by the Teacher about the comfortable dwelling of the two chief disciples, reported all that occurrence from the beginning. The Teacher said, "Bhikkhu, it is not only now that he wears a robe unsuitable for himself; he has worn it before," and having said this, he related the past:

In the past, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Bārāṇasī, a hunter living in Bārāṇasī made his living by killing elephants, bringing back and selling tusks, nails, entrails, and dense meat. Then, in a certain forest, thousands of elephants, going to find food, saw some Paccekabuddhas, and from then on, as they went to and fro, they bowed down with their knees and departed. One day, the hunter, seeing that action, thinking, "I kill these with difficulty, and they bow to the Paccekabuddhas as they go to and fro. What do they see that they bow to?" discerning that it was a robe, thinking, "Now I also should obtain a robe," stole the robe that had been placed on the bank when one Paccekabuddha had gone down to bathe in a hot spring, and taking a spear, covering his head, he sat in the path where those elephants went to and fro. The elephants, seeing him, thinking, "It is a Paccekabuddha," bowed and departed. He struck the very last of them with the spear, killed it, took the tusks, etc., buried the rest in the ground, and went away. Later, the Bodhisatta was reborn in an elephant's womb and became the chief of the herd, the leader of the elephants. Even then, he did the same thing. The Great Being, knowing the decline of his group, asked, "Where have these elephants gone? They have become weak." When they said, "We do not know, lord," he said, "They will not go anywhere without asking me; there must be a danger." Thinking that there must be a danger from someone sitting wearing a robe in one place, thinking, "It is fitting to investigate this," having sent all the elephants ahead, he himself came slowly behind. When the remaining elephants had bowed and gone, seeing the Great Being coming, he gathered up the robe and threw the spear. The Great Being, warding off the spear, retreated backward and deflected the spear. Then he rushed to seize him, thinking, "This one has destroyed these elephants." The other hid, placing a tree in front. Then, thinking, "I will encircle him with the trunk along with the tree and seize him and beat him on the ground," when he had been brought out by that, seeing the robe that was shown, thinking, "If I am hostile to this, shame will be broken for me among the thousands of Buddhas, Paccekabuddhas, and Khīṇāsavas," he endured it and asked, "You have destroyed so many of my relatives?" "Yes, lord." "Why did you do such a heavy deed, wearing a robe suitable for the passionless, unsuitable for yourself? By doing such a deed wearing what is unsuitable for you, you have done a heavy deed." And while reproving him further, reciting the verse, "Anikkasāvo kāsāvaṃ…pe… sa ve kāsāvamarahatī," he said, "What you have done is not fitting," and released him.

The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma talk, having identified the Jātaka, saying, "Then the hunter was Devadatta, the elephant who rebuked him was myself," said, "Bhikkhus, it is not only now, Devadatta has worn a robe unsuitable for himself even before," and spoke these verses:

9.

"He who wears the robe, being without self-control;
Devoid of restraint and truth, he is not worthy of the robe.

10.

"But he who has discarded defilements, well-composed in virtues;
Endowed with restraint and truth, he is indeed worthy of the robe."

This meaning should also be shown by the Chaddanta Jātaka (jā. 1.16.122-123).

Anikkasāvo: with defilements, with stains of passion, etc. Paridahissati: will make use of, in terms of wearing, wrapping, and spreading. Paridhassatītipi is also a reading. Apeto damasaccena: devoid of restraint of the senses and of truth pertaining to ultimate reality, devoid, separate is the meaning. Na so: such a person is not worthy to wear the robe. Vantakasāvassa: for whom defilements have been discarded, abandoned, eliminated by the four paths. Sīlesu: in the fourfold purity of virtue. Susamāhito: well composed, well established. Upeto: endowed with restraint of the senses and with truth as stated above. Sa ve: such a person is indeed worthy of that scented robe.

At the end of the verses, that bhikkhu residing in another direction became a Sotāpanna, and many others attained the fruits beginning with Sotāpatti. The teaching was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Seventh, Devadatta's Story.

8. Sāriputta Thera's Story

Asāre sāramatino: This Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Veḷuvana, concerning Sañcaya's non-attainment, as reported by the chief disciples.

Herein is the connected story: Indeed, our Teacher, at the head of four incalculable periods, one hundred thousand aeons ago, having been born in the city named Amaravatī as a Brahmin youth named Sumedha, having attained perfection in all the arts, having renounced wealth numbering many crores at the death of his parents, having gone forth into the ascetic life, dwelling in the Himalayas, having developed jhāna and supernormal knowledges, while going through the sky, seeing people clearing the road for Dīpaṅkara, the possessor of ten powers, to enter the city of Rammavatī from Sudassana Vihāra, he himself took a place and cleared the road. Even before that was cleared, when the Teacher had arrived, having made himself a bridge, having spread out an ajina skin in the mud, he lay down, saying, "May the Teacher, with the Saṅgha of disciples, go stepping on me without stepping in the mud." The Teacher, having seen him, declared, "This is a Bodhisatta; in the future, at the end of four incalculable periods, one hundred thousand aeons from now, he will become a Buddha named Gotama." He, in the latter part of that Teacher, having received predictions in the presence of these twenty-three Buddhas who arose illuminating the world, "Koṇḍañña, Maṅgala, Sumana, Revata, Sobhita, Anomadassī, Paduma, Nārada, Padumuttara, Sumedha, Sujāta, Piyadassī, Atthadassī, Dhammadassī, Siddhattha, Tissa, Phussa, Vipassī, Sikhī, Vessabhū, Kakusandha, Koṇāgamana, Kassapa," having fulfilled thirty perfections, "ten perfections, ten upa-perfections, ten paramattha-perfections," having stood in the state of Vessantara, having given great gifts causing the earth to tremble, having renounced sons and wife, having been reborn in Tusita heaven at the end of his life, having dwelt there as long as life lasted, with ten thousand world-system deities assembled:

"The time, O great hero, has come for you to be born in a mother's womb;
Liberating the world with its deities, awaken to the deathless state." (bu. vaṃ. 1.67) –

When it was said –

"Time, place, continent, family, and mother;
Having considered these five, the greatly glorious one is born." –

Having considered the five great considerations, having passed away from there, having taken rebirth in the Sakya royal family, after ten months, he was born from his mother's womb. Being maintained there in great prosperity for sixteen years, gradually attaining splendid youth, experiencing royal glory like the glory of the deva world in three palaces suitable for the three seasons, at the time of going for pleasure to the park, gradually seeing three divine messengers counted as old age, sickness, and death, having become agitated with Saṃvega, having turned back, and on the fourth time seeing an ascetic, having produced a liking for the ascetic life, thinking, "Good is the ascetic life," having gone to the park, having spent the day there, sitting on the bank of the Maṅgala pond, adorned and prepared by Vissakamma, a divine son, who had come taking the form of a barber, hearing the news of the birth of Rāhula Kumāra, knowing the strength of son's love, thinking, "Before this bond grows, I will cut it," entering the city in the evening –

"Cool indeed is that mother, cool indeed is that father;
Cool indeed is that woman, who has such a husband." –

Hearing this verse spoken by Kisāgotamī, the daughter of his paternal aunt, thinking, "By this one, I have been made to hear the state of coolness," having taken off the pearl necklace and sent it to her, having entered his own dwelling, sitting on the royal bed, seeing the disarray of the dancing women who had fallen asleep, with a mind disgusted, having awakened Channa, having had Kaṇṭhaka brought, mounting it, accompanied by Channa, surrounded by ten thousand world-system deities, having gone forth in the Great Going Forth, having gone to the bank of the Anomā River, having gone forth, gradually going to Rājagaha, having begged for alms there, sitting on the slope of Paṇḍava Mountain, being invited by the Magadha king with the kingdom, having rejected that, having made a promise taken by him for coming to his own conquered land after attaining omniscience, having approached Āḷāra and Udaka, not being satisfied with the distinction attained in their presence, having undertaken the Great Struggle for six years, on the morning of the Visākha full moon day, having partaken of the milk-rice given by Sujātā, having set the golden bowl adrift in the Nerañjarā River, having spent the day in the Great Forest Grove on the bank of the Nerañjarā River with various attainments, in the evening, having taken the grass given by Sottiya, with his virtues praised by the Nāga king Kāla, mounting the Bodhi Maṇḍa, having spread out the grass, having made the resolution, "I will not break this seat until my mind is freed from the āsavas without clinging," sitting facing east, as soon as the sun had set, having scattered the army of Māra, having attained the knowledge of former dwellings in the first watch, having attained the knowledge of the passing away and rebirth of beings in the middle watch, having directed knowledge in the mode of conditions at the end of the last watch, at the rising of the dawn, having realized the knowledge of omniscience adorned with all virtues, such as the ten powers and four confidences, having spent seven weeks at the Bodhi Maṇḍa, in the eighth week, sitting at the foot of the Ajapāla Banyan tree, while experiencing the happiness of detachment by reflecting on the depth of the Dhamma, having been requested to teach the Dhamma by Brahmā Sahampati, with the retinue of the ten thousand world-system Mahābrahmās, having surveyed the world with the Buddha-eye, having accepted Brahmā's request, thinking, "To whom should I teach the Dhamma first?" knowing that Āḷāra and Udaka had passed away, remembering the great assistance of the group of five bhikkhus, rising from the seat, while going to Kāsipura, having conversed with Upaka on the way, on the Āsāḷhi full moon day, having reached the dwelling place of the group of five bhikkhus in the Deer Park at Isipatana, having made them understand with a suitable mode of address, while giving the drink of immortality to eighteen crore Brahmās, beginning with Aññāta-Koṇḍañña, having set the Wheel of Dhamma in motion, having established all those bhikkhus in Arahatship on the fifth day of the waxing moon, having seen the potential for liberation of Yasa Kulaputta on that very day, seeing him disgusted in the night, having left the house and gone forth, having called out, "Come, Yasa," having made him attain the fruit of Sotāpatti in that very night, having made him attain Arahatship again the next day, having ordained fifty-four other friends of his with the going-forth of "Come, bhikkhu," and having made them attain Arahatship.

Having established them in arahantship through the Ādittapariyāya discourse (Vin.I,34; SN 4.28), and surrounded by that thousand arahants, thinking, "I will release the promise given to King Bimbisāra," he went to the Laṭṭhivana garden in the vicinity of Rājagaha, and upon hearing that "the Teacher has arrived," while relating sweet Dhamma-talk to the king who had come with twelve myriad householders and brahmins, he established the king together with eleven myriads in the fruit of stream-entry, and established one myriad in the refuges. The next day, Sakka, the king of gods, having taken the form of a young man, praised his virtues, entered Rājagaha, completed his meal in the royal residence, accepted the Veḷuvana monastery, and resided there. There, Sāriputta and Moggallāna approached him.

They named one Upatissa, and the other, being the son of the eldest family in Kolitagāma, they named Kolita. Both of them, as they grew up, reached the limit of all the arts. When Upatissa-māṇava went to the river or the garden for playing, he would have five hundred golden palanquins as attendants, and Kolita-māṇava would have five hundred chariots yoked with thoroughbred horses. Both were attended by five hundred māṇavas each. And in Rājagaha, there was an annual festival called Giraggasamajja. They would set up a single dais for both of them in one place. Both would sit together watching the festival, laughing when there was cause for laughter, being moved when there was cause for emotion, and giving gifts when it was appropriate to give. In this manner, one day, as they were watching the festival, because their knowledge had matured, laughter did not arise when there was cause for laughter as it had on previous days, nor emotion when there was cause for emotion, nor giving when there was cause for giving. Both of them thought, "What is there to see here? All these people will reach a state of non-existence in less than a hundred years. It is fitting that we seek a path to liberation." They sat taking that as their object. Then Kolita said to Upatissa, "Friend Upatissa, you are not as joyful and elated as on other days; now you are in a dejected mood. What have you noticed?" "Friend Kolita, there is no essence in looking at these things; this is meaningless. I am sitting here thinking that it is fitting to seek my own path to liberation. Why are you dejected?" He said the same thing. Then, knowing that he shared the same intention as himself, Upatissa said, "It is well thought out by both of us. But while seeking the path to liberation, it is fitting to obtain ordination together. From whom shall we ordain?"

At that time, Sañjaya, a wanderer, was residing in Rājagaha with a large company of wanderers. Thinking, "We will ordain under him," they sent five hundred māṇavas ahead, saying, "Take the palanquins and chariots and go." They went in one palanquin and one chariot and ordained under Sañjaya. From the time they ordained, Sañjaya reached an unsurpassed peak of gain, honor, and fame. Within a few days, they had mastered all of Sañjaya's doctrines and asked, "Teacher, is the extent of your knowledge this much, or is there more?" When he said, "All that there is has been learned by you," they thought, "In that case, living the holy life under him is pointless. The path to liberation that we have gone forth seeking cannot be produced under him. But great is Jambudīpa, and as we wander through villages, towns, and capital cities, we will surely find a teacher who teaches the path to liberation." From then on, wherever they heard that there were wise ascetics and brahmins, they would go there and engage in discussions. Others could not answer the questions they asked, but they could answer the questions of those others. In this way, having gone around all of Jambudīpa, they returned to their own place. "Friend Kolita, let whichever of us first attains the Deathless inform the other," they made this agreement.

While they were living having made this agreement, the Teacher, in the order described, arrived in Rājagaha, accepted Veḷuvana, and stayed in Veḷuvana. Then, of the sixty-one arahants who had been sent forth to proclaim the virtues of the Triple Gem, saying, "Wander, monks, for the welfare of the many," Assaji Thera, from among the group of five, returned and arrived in Rājagaha. The next day, early in the morning, taking his bowl and robe, he entered Rājagaha for alms. At that time, Upatissa the wanderer, having finished his morning meal, was going to the wanderers' park when he saw the Thera and thought, "I have never seen a renunciate like this before. Of those who are arahants or have attained the path to arahantship in the world, this must be one of those monks. Why don't I approach this monk and ask, ‘For whom, friend, have you gone forth? Who is your teacher? Whose doctrine do you approve of?’" Then it occurred to him, "It is not the right time to ask this monk a question; he has entered a house and is wandering for alms. Why don't I follow this monk from behind, because the path is known by those who need it?" Seeing the Thera going to a certain place after receiving alms, and knowing his wish to sit, he spread his own wanderer's seat and gave it to him. After the Thera had finished his meal, he also gave him water from his own water pot.

Having thus performed the duties of a disciple, and having engaged in friendly conversation with the Thera who had finished his meal, he said, "Your faculties, friend, are very serene; the complexion of your skin is pure and clear. For whom, friend, have you gone forth? Who is your teacher? Whose doctrine do you approve of?" The Thera thought, "These wanderers are enemies of the Teaching. I will show him the profundity of the Teaching." Showing his newness, he said, "I, friend, am a newcomer, recently ordained, newly arrived in this Dhamma-Vinaya. I will not be able to expound the Dhamma in detail." The wanderer, thinking, "I am called Upatissa. You speak as you are able, whether little or much; it is my responsibility to penetrate that with a hundred or a thousand methods," said:

"Speak little or much,
Just tell me the meaning;
I only need the meaning,
What shall I do with many phrases?" (Vin.I,40)

When this was said, the Thera recited the verse, "Ye dhammā hetuppabhavā" (Vin.I,40). The wanderer, having heard only the first two lines, was established in the fruit of stream-entry adorned with a thousand methods; he completed the other two lines at the time of stream-entry. Having become a stream-enterer, and discerning that the higher attainments were not developing, he surmised, "There will be a reason here," and said to the Thera, "Bhante, do not extend the Dhamma talk further; let it be just this much. Where does our Teacher live?" "In Veḷuvana, friend." "Then, Bhante, you go ahead. I have a friend, and we have made an agreement with each other, 'Whichever of us first attains the Deathless, let him inform the other.' After releasing that promise, I will take my friend and come to the Teacher in the same way you have gone." Having prostrated at the Thera's feet with the five-point prostration, and having circumambulated him three times, he sent the Thera away and went towards the wanderers' park.

Then Kolita the wanderer, seeing him coming from afar, said, "Today the complexion of my friend's face is not as it was on other days; surely he has attained the Deathless." And he asked about the attainment of the Deathless. He affirmed, "Yes, friend, I have attained the Deathless," and recited the same verse. At the end of the verse, Kolita, having been established in the fruit of stream-entry, said, "Where does our Teacher live, friend?" "In Veḷuvana, friend; so it was said by our teacher, Assaji Thera." "Then, friend, come, let us go see the Teacher." Sāriputta Thera was always a worshiper of his teacher, therefore he said this to his friend, "Friend, let us tell our teacher, Sañjaya the wanderer, about the Deathless we have attained. If he understands, he will penetrate it; if he does not penetrate it, he will trust us and go to the Teacher. After hearing the teaching of the Buddhas, he will realize the path and its fruit." Then the two of them went to Sañjaya.

Sañjaya, seeing them, asked, "Well, fathers, has a teacher who teaches the path to the Deathless been found?" "Yes, Teacher, he has been found. A Buddha has arisen in the world, the Dhamma has arisen in the world, the Sangha has arisen in the world. You wander empty and without essence; therefore, come, let us go to the Teacher." "You go, I will not be able to." "What is the reason?" "Having wandered as a teacher of the great crowd, for me, living as a disciple is like turning a ladle into a vessel. I will not be able to live as a disciple." "Do not do that, teachers." "Enough, fathers, you go, I will not be able to." "Teacher, from the time a Buddha arises in the world, the great crowd will go with garlands and perfumes in their hands and worship only him. We will go there too. What will you do?" "Fathers, are there many fools in this world, or many wise people?" "Teachers, there are many fools; there are only a few wise people." "Then, fathers, the wise will go to the wise ascetic Gotama; the fools will come to the foolish me. You go, I will not go." They said, "You will regret it, teachers," and departed. As they were going, Sañjaya's following split apart; in that moment, the park became empty. Seeing the empty park, he vomited hot blood. Of the five hundred wanderers who were going with them, two hundred and fifty of Sañjaya's followers turned back; then they went to Veḷuvana with their own two hundred and fifty wanderer disciples.

The Teacher, sitting in the midst of the four assemblies, seeing them from afar, addressed the monks, "These two friends are coming, Kolita and Upatissa. They will be my pair of disciples, the foremost, the auspicious pair." They paid homage to the Teacher and sat down to one side. Having sat down, they said to the Blessed One, "May we receive the going forth under the Blessed One, may we receive the full ordination." "Come, monks," the Blessed One said, "well-expounded is the Dhamma, live the holy life for the complete ending of suffering." All of them appeared like sixty-year-old elders, holding bowls and robes produced by their own psychic power.

Then, according to the nature of their group, the Teacher increased the Dhamma talk. Except for the two chief disciples, the rest attained arahantship, but the three higher path duties of the chief disciples were not yet completed. What was the reason? Because of the greatness of the disciple's perfection of wisdom. Then, on the seventh day from his ordination, Venerable Mahāmoggallāna, while dwelling near the village of Kallavāla in the Magadha country, being stirred by the Teacher when drowsiness overcame him, dispelled the drowsiness, and while listening to the element meditation given by the Tathāgata, completed the three higher path duties and reached the peak of the disciple's perfection of wisdom. Sāriputta Thera also, having spent half a month from the day of his ordination, while dwelling with the Teacher near the Sūkarakhatalena near that same Rājagaha, while the Vedanāpariggahasutta was being taught to his nephew, Dīghanakha the wanderer, after directing his knowledge according to the sutta, reached the peak of the disciple's perfection of wisdom like one eating food prepared by another. But surely Venerable Sāriputta was of great wisdom, so why did he attain the disciple's perfection of wisdom later than Mahāmoggallāna? Because of the greatness of the preliminary work. Just as poor people quickly set out wherever they wish to go, but kings must obtain great preliminary work such as the arrangement of elephant vehicles, etc., so should this be understood.

On that very day, the Teacher, having convened an assembly of disciples in the Bamboo Grove as the shadow was lengthening, bestowed the positions of chief disciples upon the two elders and recited the Pātimokkha. The monks grumbled, "The Teacher gives favor through looking at faces. In bestowing the positions of chief disciples, he ought to have given them first to the group of five who were the first to be ordained. If not them, he ought to have considered the fifty-five monks headed by the Elder Yasa. If not them, he ought to have considered the thirty of the Bhaddavaggiya group. If not them, he ought to have considered the three Kassapa brothers of Uruvela. Instead, ignoring so many great elders, he has given the positions of chief disciples to those ordained last of all, showing favoritism by looking at faces." The Teacher, asking, "What are you discussing, monks?" and being told, "This is the matter," said, "Monks, I do not give favor through looking at faces, but I give to each of them according to what each has wished for. For Aññāta Koṇḍañña, while giving the first harvest offering nine times in one season, did not wish for the position of chief disciple, but wished to realize the foremost Dhamma, Arahatship, first of all." "When was that, venerable sir?" "Listen, monks," and the Blessed One related the past:

"Monks, ninety-one eons ago, the Blessed One Vipassī arose in the world. At that time, two householder brothers, Mahākāḷa and Cūḷakāḷa, had a large rice field sown. Then one day, Cūḷakāḷa went to the rice field, split open a rice grain, and ate it; it was exceedingly delicious. Wishing to give an offering of rice grains to the Saṅgha headed by the Buddha, he approached his elder brother and said, "Brother, let us split open rice grains, prepare them in a manner suitable for Buddhas, and give alms." "What are you saying, dear? Giving alms by splitting open rice grains has never happened in the past, nor will it happen in the future; do not destroy the harvest!" Even when told this, he kept requesting again and again. Then his brother said to him, "In that case, divide the rice field into two portions, and without touching my portion, do whatever you wish in your own portion of the field." He agreed, divided the field, requested many people for manual labor, split open rice grains, cooked them in waterless milk, mixed them with ghee, honey, sugar, etc., and gave alms to the Saṅgha headed by the Buddha, saying at the end of the meal, "May this, my foremost gift, lead to the first realization of the foremost Dhamma." The Teacher gave his approval, saying, "May it be so."

Going to the field and looking around, he saw the entire field covered with rice stalks as if adorned with earrings, and experiencing five kinds of joy, he thought, "What a gain for me!" and gave the first portion during the harvesting season, the first harvest offering with the villagers, the first portion at the threshing floor, the first portion at the winnowing, the first portion of the bundles, the first portion of the sheaves, the first portion of the threshing floor, the first portion of the threshing-floor store, and the first portion of the storehouse. Thus, he gave the first offering nine times in one season. In all those instances, the places from which it was taken were filled up, and the harvest was exceedingly abundant. Indeed, the Dhamma protects one who protects oneself. Therefore, the Blessed One said:

"The Dhamma surely protects one who practices the Dhamma,
The Dhamma well-practiced brings happiness;
This is the benefit in the Dhamma well-practiced,
The practitioner of the Dhamma does not go to misfortune." (theragā. 303; jā. 1.10.102) –

"Thus, during the time of the Sammāsambuddha Vipassī, wishing to realize the foremost Dhamma first, he gave the foremost gifts nine times. Moreover, one hundred thousand eons ago, in the city of Haṃsavatī, during the time of the Buddha Padumuttara, after giving a great offering for a week, he lay down at the feet of that Blessed One and made the aspiration solely for the sake of realizing the foremost Dhamma first. Thus, what was wished for by him has been given by me; I do not give favor through looking at faces."

"What deeds did the fifty-five people headed by Yasakulaputta do, venerable sir?" "They too, wishing for Arahatship in the presence of a Buddha, performed many meritorious deeds, and in a subsequent existence, when no Buddha had arisen, they became helpers, doing meritorious deeds through group association, and attended to masterless corpses. One day, seeing a pregnant woman who had died, they took her to the charnel ground, thinking, 'We will cremate her.' Leaving five people at the charnel ground, saying, 'You cremate her,' the rest entered the village. The young Yasa, piercing that corpse with stakes and turning it over and over while cremating it, attained the perception of repulsiveness. He showed it to the other four people as well, saying, 'Look, sirs, at this body, its skin torn here and there, looking like a piebald cow, impure, foul-smelling, repulsive.' They too attained the perception of repulsiveness there. All five of them went to the village and told the remaining companions. Yasa, however, went home and told his parents and wife. All of them contemplated repulsiveness. This was their past deed. Therefore, the charnel ground perception arose in Yasa's women's quarters, and through the perfection of that supporting condition, the attainment of distinction arose for all of them. Thus, these too attained what was wished for by themselves. I do not give favor through looking at faces."

"What deeds did the Bhaddavaggiya companions do, venerable sir?" "They too, wishing for Arahatship in the presence of past Buddhas, performed meritorious deeds, and in a subsequent existence, when no Buddha had arisen, they became thirty libertines, and having heard Tuṇḍilovāda, they observed the five precepts for sixty thousand years. Thus, these too attained what was wished for by themselves. I do not give favor through looking at faces."

"What deeds did Uruvela Kassapa and others do, venerable sir?" "They too, wishing for Arahatship, performed meritorious deeds. Indeed, ninety-two eons ago, two Buddhas, Tissa and Phussa, arose. King Mahinda was the father of the Buddha Phussa. When he attained enlightenment, the king's younger son became the first chief disciple, and the chaplain's son became the second chief disciple. The king, going to the Teacher, exclaiming three times, 'My eldest son is the Buddha, my younger son is the first chief disciple, the chaplain's son is the second chief disciple,' looking at them, 'Mine is the Buddha, mine is the Dhamma, mine is the Saṅgha, homage to that Blessed One, worthy and rightly self-awakened!' and lying down at the feet of the Teacher, making a pledge, 'Venerable sir, now that I am ninety thousand years old, like sitting and sleeping at the door of another's house, without going to another's house, may you accept my four requisites as long as I live,' constantly attends to the Buddha. The king also had other sons besides them. Among them, the eldest had five hundred warriors as attendants, the middle one three hundred, and the youngest two hundred. Asking their father for permission, saying, 'We too will feed our brother,' and not obtaining it, they were sent to pacify the border regions when they revolted. Having pacified the border regions, they returned to their father. Then their father, embracing them and kissing their heads, said, 'I will give you a boon, dear ones.'

"They said, 'Good, divine one,' and having made the taken boon, after some days, being told by their father, 'Take a boon, dear ones,' they said, 'Divine one, we have no need of anything else; from now on, we will feed our brother; give us this boon.' 'I will not give it, dear ones.' 'If you will not give it forever, give it for seven years, divine one.' 'I will not give it, dear ones.' 'Then give it for six, five, four, three, two, one year, divine one.' 'I will not give it, dear ones.' 'Then, divine one, give it for seven months.' 'Give it for six months, five months, four months, three months, divine one.' 'I will not give it, dear ones.' 'Let it be, divine one, give us each one month, making three months.' 'Good, dear ones, then feed for three months,' he said. Pleased, they paid homage to the king and went to their own places. For all three of them, there was only one storehouse keeper, only one appointed officer, with a retinue of twelve myriads of men. They summoned them and said, 'We, taking the ten precepts for these three months, wearing two sets of robes, will live in association with the Teacher; you, taking this alms-offering, should provide all kinds of food and drink daily for ninety thousand monks and a thousand warriors. From now on, we will not say anything,' they said.

"All three of those people, taking a thousand attendants, undertaking the ten precepts, wearing saffron robes, lived in the monastery. The storehouse keeper and the appointed officer, together, taking the alms-offering from the storehouses of the three brothers in turn, gave alms, and the workmen's children cried for rice-gruel and rice, etc. They gave rice-gruel and rice, etc., to those monks even before they arrived. There was never anything left over at the end of the monks' meal. Thinking, 'We will give it to the children later,' they themselves took it and ate it. Unable to endure seeing the delicious food, they consumed the alms-offering given to the Saṅgha, and at the breaking up of the body, after death, were reborn in the realm of petas. The three brothers, however, along with the thousand men, having passed away, were reborn in the deva world, and wandering from the deva world to the human world, and from the human world to the deva world, they spent ninety-two eons. Thus, those three brothers, wishing for Arahatship, did wholesome deeds at that time. They attained what was wished for by themselves. I do not give favor through looking at faces."

At that time, their appointed officer was King Bimbisāra, and the storehouse keeper was the lay follower Visākha. The three princes were the three Jaṭilas. Their workmen, having been reborn as petas at that time, wandering in accordance with good and bad destinations, were reborn in the peta world for four Buddha-intervals in this eon. Approaching the Blessed One Kakusandha, who arose first in this eon with a lifespan of forty thousand years, they asked, "Tell us when we will get food." He said, "You will not get it in my time. After me, when the great earth has risen one yojana, a Buddha named Koṇāgamana will arise; ask him." Spending that much time, when he arose, they asked him. He too said, "You will not get it in my time. After me, when the great earth has risen one yojana, a Buddha named Kassapa will arise; ask him." Spending that much time, when he arose, they asked him. He too said, "You will not get it in my time. After me, when the great earth has risen one yojana, a Buddha named Gotama will arise; at that time, your relative, a king named Bimbisāra, will be, and having given alms to the Teacher, he will transfer merit to you; then you will get it." For them, one Buddha-interval was like a day. When the Tathāgata arose and alms were given by King Bimbisāra on the first day, not receiving the merit, they showed themselves to the king at night, making a terrifying noise. He, on the following day, going to the Bamboo Grove, reported that matter to the Tathāgata.

The Teacher said, "Great King, two hundred and ninety-two aeons ago, during the time of the Buddha Phussa, these relatives of yours, after consuming the offerings given to the community of monks, were reborn in the realm of Petas. While wandering in that realm, they inquired of the Buddhas Kakusandha and others, and were told specific details. For so long, they had been hoping for your donation. Yesterday, when you gave the offering, not receiving the merit, they acted in this way." "But, Venerable Sir, if a donation is given now, will they receive it?" "Yes, Great King." The king invited the community of monks with the Buddha at its head, and on the following day, gave a great donation. He then transferred the merit, saying, "May divine food and drink accrue to those Petas from this." It occurred to them just as he had said. On the following day, they appeared naked, revealing themselves. The king announced, "Venerable Sir, today they appeared naked, revealing themselves." "Garments were not given to them, Great King." The king then, on the following day, gave a donation of robes to the community of monks with the Buddha at its head, and sent the merit saying, "May divine garments accrue to those Petas from this." At that very moment, divine garments arose for them. They abandoned their state as Petas and were established in a divine state. The Teacher, giving thanks, made the 'approval of those standing outside the wall' (tirokuṭṭa) beginning with "tirokuṭṭesu tiṭṭhantī" (khu. pā. 7.1; pe. va. 14). At the end of the thanksgiving, eighty-four thousand beings attained the Dhamma. Thus, the Teacher, after relating the story of the three ascetic brothers, delivered this discourse.

Then the foremost disciples asked, "Venerable Sir, what did they do?" "They made a wish for the state of foremost disciples." Indeed, at the head of countless aeons, more than one hundred thousand aeons ago, Sāriputta was born in a great brahmin family and was named Sarada-māṇava. Moggallāna was born in a wealthy householder's family and was named Sirivaḍḍhana-kuṭumbika. Both of them were playmates, companions in throwing dust. Sarada-māṇava, upon the death of his father, inherited great wealth filled with good qualities and one day contemplated in seclusion: "I only know the existence of this world, not the existence of the next world. And death is certain for beings that are born. It would be fitting for me to renounce and search for the Dhamma of liberation." He approached his friend and said, "Friend Sirivaḍḍhana, I will renounce and search for the Dhamma of liberation. Will you be able to renounce with me, or not?" "I will not be able to, friend; you yourself should renounce." He thought, "When going to the next world, there is no such thing as taking friends or relatives along; what is done by oneself belongs to oneself alone." Then, having opened the treasure chamber, he gave a great donation to the poor, the destitute, beggars, and mendicants. Entering the foothills of a mountain, he took the ascetic's vows. One, two, three, thus, successively renouncing, forty-four thousand ascetics became his followers. He cultivated the five supernormal knowledges (abhiññā) and the eight attainments (samāpatti) and taught the ascetics the practice of kasiṇa-perception. All of them also cultivated the five supernormal knowledges and the eight attainments.

At that time, Anomadassī, the Perfectly Enlightened Buddha, arose in the world. The city was named Candavatī, his father was the Khattiya named Yasavā, his mother was the queen named Yasodharā, the Bodhi tree was an Arjuna tree, Nisabha and Anoma were his two foremost disciples, Varuṇa was his attendant, and Sundarā and Sumanā were his two foremost female disciples. His lifespan was one hundred thousand years, his body was fifty-eight cubits in height, the radiance of his body spread twelve yojanas, and he had a retinue of one hundred thousand monks. One day, at dawn, arising from the Great Compassion Samāpatti, while surveying the world, he saw Sarada-tāpasa and thought, "Today, because of my going to Sarada-tāpasa, there will be a great Dhamma talk, and he will wish for the position of the foremost disciple. His friend Sirivaḍḍhana-kuṭumbika will wish for the position of the second disciple, and at the conclusion of the discourse, his retinue of forty-four thousand ascetics will attain arahantship. It is fitting for me to go there." Taking his bowl and robe, without informing anyone else, like a lone lion, while Sarada-tāpasa’s pupils were going for fruits and roots, desiring that he would recognize his Buddhahood, he descended from the sky and landed on the earth in front of Sarada-tāpasa as he was watching. Sarada-tāpasa, seeing the Buddha's power and the perfection of his form, reflecting on the marks, knew, "One endowed with these marks, if living in a house, would be a king, a wheel-turning monarch; if renouncing, would be an all-knowing Buddha, with the covering of ignorance removed from the world. This man is undoubtedly a Buddha." He went forward to greet him, bowed with the five-point prostration, and offered him the foremost seat. The Blessed One sat on the designated foremost seat. Sarada-tāpasa also took a seat suitable for himself and sat down to one side.

At that time, the forty-four thousand ascetics, bringing choice and delicious fruits and roots, arrived at their teacher's presence. Looking at the seats of the Buddha and their teacher, they said, "Teacher, we wander about saying, 'There is no one greater than you in this world,' but this man seems greater than you?" "Children, what are you saying? Do you wish to equate Mount Sineru, which is sixty-eight hundred thousand yojanas in height, with a mustard seed? Do not compare me with the All-Knowing Buddha, my children." Then those ascetics, "If he were an insignificant being, our teacher would not have made such a comparison; how great this man is!" All of them fell at his feet and bowed with their heads. Then their teacher said to them, "Children, we do not have an appropriate offering for the Buddhas. The Teacher has come here at the time of alms-gathering. We will give an offering according to our ability and strength. Bring whatever choice fruits and roots there are." Having had them brought, he washed his hands and personally placed them in the Tathāgata's bowl. As soon as the Teacher accepted the fruits and roots, the devatās infused divine essence into them. That ascetic even strained water himself and offered it. Then, when the Teacher had finished his meal and was seated, he called all his disciples and sat down near the Teacher, speaking words that gladden the heart. The Teacher thought, "May the two foremost disciples come with the community of monks." Knowing the Teacher's thought, they, surrounded by a retinue of one hundred thousand arahants, came, paid homage to the Teacher, and stood to one side.

Then Sarada-tāpasa addressed his disciples: "Children, even the seat of the Buddhas is low, and there is no seat for the hundred thousand monks. Today, you should make an excellent offering to the Buddha. Bring flowers of excellent color and fragrance from the foothills of the mountain." The time for speaking is like a delay, but the realm of psychic power is inconceivable; within a moment, those ascetics brought flowers of excellent color and fragrance and arranged a flower seat for the Buddhas of the extent of one yojana. For the two foremost disciples, it was three gāvutas, for the remaining monks, it varied, starting with half a yojana, and for the Saṅgha-novaka, it was the size of a bullock. "How could such large seats be arranged in one hermitage?" should not be thought about. This is the realm of psychic power. With the seats thus arranged, Sarada-tāpasa, standing in front of the Tathāgata with his hands folded, said, "Venerable Sir, for my long-term benefit and happiness, please ascend this flower seat." Thus it was said:

"Having gathered various flowers and perfumes,
And having prepared a flower seat;
He spoke these words."

"This seat of mine, O Hero, is prepared to befit you;
Please sit on the flower seat, gladdening my heart."

"For seven days and nights the Buddha sat on the flower seat;
Gladdening my heart, delighting the world with devas."

With the Teacher thus seated, the two foremost disciples and the remaining monks sat on their respective designated seats. Sarada-tāpasa, holding a large flower umbrella, stood over the Tathāgata's head. The Teacher, thinking, "May this offering of the ascetics be of great fruit," entered into Nirodha-samāpatti. Knowing that the Teacher had entered into Samāpatti, the two foremost disciples and the remaining monks also entered into Samāpatti. While the Tathāgata was seated, having entered into Nirodha-samāpatti for seven days, when the time for the disciples to go for alms arrived, they ate roots and fruits from the forest and spent the remaining time standing with their hands folded towards the Buddha. Sarada-tāpasa, however, without even going for alms, spent the seven days enjoying the bliss of delight while holding the flower umbrella. The Teacher, arising from Nirodha, addressed Nisabha Thera, the first foremost disciple sitting on his right side: "Nisabha, give thanks for the flower seat to the ascetics who made the offering." The Thera, with a mind full of joy, like a great warrior who had received a great reward from a wheel-turning monarch, standing in the knowledge of a disciple's perfection, began the thanksgiving for the flower seat. At the end of his discourse, he addressed the second disciple: "You too, bhikkhu, preach the Dhamma." Anoma Thera, reflecting on the Tipitaka, the word of the Buddha, spoke the Dhamma. At the discourse of the two foremost disciples, not even one attained the Dhamma. Then the Teacher, standing in the immeasurable Buddha-realm, began the Dhamma talk. At the conclusion of the discourse, except for Sarada-tāpasa, all forty-four thousand ascetics attained arahantship. The Teacher extended his hand, saying, "Come, bhikkhus." Immediately their hair and beards disappeared, and the eight requisites appeared as if attached to their bodies.

Why did Sarada-tāpasa not attain arahantship? Because of his distracted mind. It seems that from the time he began to listen to the Dhamma talk of the foremost disciple, who was seated on the secondary seat of the Buddhas and teaching the Dhamma while standing in the knowledge of a disciple's perfection, he generated the thought, "Oh, that I too, in the dispensation of a future arising Buddha, might receive the responsibility obtained by this disciple." Because of that distracted thought, he was unable to realize the path and fruition. However, having paid homage to the Tathāgata and standing before him, he said, "Venerable Sir, who is this bhikkhu, seated in the seat next to yours, in your dispensation?" "He who causes the wheel of Dhamma turned by me to continue turning, who has reached the pinnacle of the knowledge of a disciple's perfection, who has penetrated the sixteen knowledges, standing firm, this is my foremost disciple, named Nisabha." "Venerable Sir, by the merit of the offering made by me in holding the flower umbrella for seven days, I do not wish for any other sovereignty or Brahma-hood; however, in the future, may I be the foremost disciple of a Buddha, like this Nisabha Thera." Thus, he made a wish. The Teacher, sending his knowledge of the future to see if the wish of this man would be fulfilled, saw that it would be fulfilled after the passing of one incalculable aeon, more than one hundred thousand aeons. Having seen this, he said to Sarada-tāpasa, "This wish of yours will not be in vain. In the future, after the passing of one incalculable aeon, more than one hundred thousand aeons, a Buddha named Gotama will arise. His mother will be a devi named Mahāmāyā, his father will be a great king named Suddhodana, his son will be named Rāhula, his attendant will be named Ānanda, his second foremost disciple will be named Moggallāna, and you will be his first foremost disciple, the general of the Dhamma, named Sāriputta." Thus, having declared the future of the ascetic, he gave a Dhamma talk and, surrounded by the community of monks, rose into the sky.

The ascetic Sarada also went to the elder disciples and sent a message to his friend, the householder Sirivaddhana: "Venerable sir, tell my friend that Sarada the ascetic, with you as his friend, desired the position of the first chief disciple in the dispensation of Gotama Buddha, who will arise in the future at the feet of Anomadassi Buddha; may you desire the position of the second chief disciple." Having said this, he went ahead of the monks to one side and stood at the door of Sirivaddhana's residence. Sirivaddhana, thinking, "My lord has come after a long time," had him seated on a seat, and sat on a lower seat himself. "Venerable sir, your company of disciples is not visible," he asked. "Yes, friend, Anomadassi Buddha came to our hermitage, and we honored him according to our ability. The Teacher preached the Dhamma to all, and at the end of the sermon, except for me, all attained arahantship and entered the Sangha. Having seen Nisabha Thera, the first chief disciple of the Teacher, I desired the position of the first chief disciple in the dispensation of Gotama Buddha, who will arise in the future; may you also desire the position of the second chief disciple in that dispensation." "Venerable sir, I have no acquaintance with Buddhas." "Let the talking with the Buddhas be my responsibility; you prepare a great offering."

Hearing his words, Sirivaddhana had a level space of about eight karisas made even in front of his residence, scattered sand, scattered parched grain and five kinds of flowers, had a canopy made with a covering of blue lotuses, arranged a Buddha-seat, prepared seats for the remaining monks, prepared a great offering and honor, and gave a sign to Sarada the ascetic to invite the Buddhas. The ascetic, taking the Sangha of monks headed by the Buddha, went to his residence. Sirivaddhana also went to meet them, took the bowl from the Tathagata's hand, led him into the pavilion, and after the Sangha of monks headed by the Buddha were seated on the prepared seats, he gave the donation water, served them with excellent food, and at the end of the meal, covered the Sangha of monks headed by the Buddha with valuable cloths. He said, "Venerable sir, this undertaking is not for a small purpose; may you show compassion in this same manner for seven days." The Teacher consented. In that same manner, he continued the great almsgiving for seven days, and after venerating the Blessed One, he stood with his hands clasped and said, "Venerable sir, my friend Sarada the ascetic desired to be the first chief disciple of whichever Teacher," I also desire to be the second chief disciple of that same Teacher."

The Teacher, looking into the future, saw the accomplishment of his wish and declared, "After passing countless asaṅkhyeyyas, more than a hundred thousand kappas from now, you will be the second chief disciple of Gotama Buddha." Hearing the prediction of the Buddhas, Sirivaddhana was delighted. The Teacher also, after the meal's thanksgiving, went to the monastery with his retinue. "Monks, that desire was desired by my sons at that time. They obtained it as they desired. I do not give looking at faces."

When this was said, the two chief disciples venerated the Blessed One and, after relating the entire present incident from when they were householders and went to see the festival on the mountain peak, up to the attainment of the fruit of stream-entry in the presence of Assaji Thera, said, "Venerable sir, we wanted to bring him, Sañjaya, our teacher, to your feet, and after telling him about the worthlessness of his doctrine, we spoke of the advantages of coming here. Now, my dwelling with my teacher is like drawing water with a small pot from a large jar; I will not be able to live there," and said, "Teacher, now a great crowd will go with perfumes and garlands in their hands to worship the Teacher himself; what will become of you?" When he was asked, "Are there many wise people in this world, or foolish ones?" and he said, "Foolish ones," he said, "Then the wise will go to the wise ascetic Gotama, and the foolish will come to the foolish me; go you." He did not want to come, venerable sir. Hearing that, the Teacher said, "Monks, Sañjaya, due to his own wrong view, has grasped the non-essential as essential and the essential as non-essential. But you, by your wisdom, have known the essential as essential and the non-essential as non-essential, and having abandoned the non-essential, you have grasped only the essential," and spoke these verses:

11.

"Thinking the non-essential to be essential, and seeing the essential as non-essential,
They do not reach the essential, for they are in the domain of wrong thoughts.

12.

"Knowing the essential to be essential, and the non-essential as non-essential,
They reach the essential, for they are in the domain of right thoughts."

Asāre sāramatino: The four requisites, the ten bases of wrong view, and the teaching of the Dhamma that is the basis for it, this is called non-essential, meaning those who see it as essential. Sāre cāsāradassino: The ten bases of right view, and the teaching of the Dhamma that is the basis for it, this is called essential, meaning those who see it as non-essential, thinking, "This is not essential." Te sāraṃ: Those who, having grasped that grasping of wrong view, being in the domain of wrong thoughts in terms of thoughts of sensual pleasure, etc., do not attain the essence of morality, the essence of concentration, the essence of wisdom, the essence of liberation, the essence of the knowledge and vision of liberation, the ultimate essence, and Nibbana. Sārañcā: Knowing that very essence of morality, etc., to be "This is the essence," and the non-essence as described above to be "This is the non-essence." Te sāraṃ: Those wise ones, having grasped such right view, being in the domain of right thoughts in terms of thoughts of renunciation, etc., attain that essence as described above.

At the end of the verses, many attained the fruits of stream-entry, etc. The teaching of the Dhamma was beneficial to those assembled.

The Story of Sariputta Thera, the Eighth.

9. The Story of Nanda Thera

Yathā agāraṃ This Dhamma teaching was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning the venerable Nanda.

After relating the Vessantara Jataka (Jā. 2.22.1655 ff.), the next day, while entering for alms, with the verse "Rise up, do not be heedless" (Dhp. 168), he established his father in the fruit of stream-entry, and with the verse "Practice the Dhamma" (Dhp. 169), he established Mahāpajāpati in the fruit of stream-entry and the king in the fruit of once-returning. After the meal, depending on a talk about the virtues of Rahula's mother, he related the Candakinnari Jataka (Jā. 1.14.18 ff.). Then, on the third day, when the anointing, house-entering, wedding, and auspicious celebrations of Nanda Kumara were taking place, he entered for alms, gave the bowl to Nanda Kumara's hand, spoke a blessing, and rising from his seat, departed without taking the bowl from Nanda Kumara's hand. He also, out of reverence for the Tathagata, could not say, "Take your bowl, venerable sir." He thought thus: "He will take the bowl at the top of the stairs." The Teacher did not take it at that place either. The other thought, "He will take it at the foot of the stairs." The Teacher did not take it there either. The other thought, "He will take it in the royal courtyard." The Teacher did not take it there either. The prince, wanting to turn back, going reluctantly, could not say "Take the bowl" out of reverence for the Teacher. Thinking, "He will take it here, he will take it there," he went on.

At that moment, other women saw him and told the most beautiful woman in the country, "Lady, the Blessed One has taken Nanda Kumara away, he will separate him from you." With her hair only half-combed, as if dripping with drops of water, she went quickly and said, "Come back quickly, dear son." That word of hers stood as if piercing his heart sideways. The Teacher, without taking the bowl from his hand, took him to the monastery and said, "Will you go forth, Nanda?" Out of reverence for the Buddha, without saying, "I will not go forth," he said, "Yes, I will go forth." The Teacher said, "Then ordain Nanda." The Teacher went to Kapilavatthu and on the third day ordained Nanda.

On the seventh day, Rahula's mother adorned the prince and sent him to the Blessed One, saying, "Look, dear, at this golden-colored ascetic, whose complexion is like Brahma, surrounded by twenty thousand ascetics. This is your father; he had great treasure troves. We have not seen him since he renounced; go ask him for your inheritance: 'I, dear father, am a prince, having attained the consecration, I will become a wheel-turning monarch; I need wealth, give me wealth. A son is the owner of what belongs to his father.'" The prince, having gone to the Blessed One, regained his fatherly affection, and delighted, said, "Happy is your shade, ascetic," and stood saying much else that was fitting for him. The Blessed One, having finished his meal and given thanks, rose from his seat and departed. The prince also followed the Blessed One, saying, "Give me my inheritance, ascetic, give me my inheritance, ascetic." The Blessed One did not turn the prince back. The retinue also could not turn back the one going with the Blessed One. Thus, he went with the Blessed One to the monastery itself.

He related the Mahadhamma-pala Jataka (Jā. 1.10.92 ff.). At the end of the verses, the king was established in the fruit of non-returning. Thus, the Blessed One, having established his father in the three fruits, surrounded by the Sangha of monks, went again to Rajagaha, and from there, with Anathapindika having taken a pledge to come to Savatthi, when the Jetavana monastery was completed, he went there and took up residence.

Thus, while the Teacher was dwelling at Jetavana, the venerable Nanda, becoming discontented, announced this matter to the monks: "Friends, I live the holy life without delight; I am unable to maintain the holy life; having renounced the training, I will return to the lower life." Having heard that event, the Blessed One had the venerable Nanda summoned and said this: "Is it true, Nanda, that you announced thus to many monks: 'Friends, I live the holy life without delight; I am unable to maintain the holy life; having renounced the training, I will return to the lower life'?" "Yes, venerable sir." "But why, Nanda, do you live the holy life without delight, unable to maintain the holy life, and renouncing the training, return to the lower life?" "Venerable sir, as I was leaving the house, the Sakyan woman, the most beautiful in the country, looked at me with her hair only half-combed and said this to me: 'Come back quickly, dear son.' Venerable sir, remembering her, I live the holy life without delight, unable to maintain the holy life, and renouncing the training, I will return to the lower life."

Kakuṭapādāni: Feet like the feet of pigeons, due to their red color. Showing them, he then said, "What do you think, Nanda, which is more beautiful, more lovely, or more pleasing, the Sakyan woman, the most beautiful in the country, or these five hundred pigeon-footed nymphs?" Hearing that, he said, "Just as that Sakyan woman, venerable sir, is like a monkey with its ears, nose, and tail cut off, so too, venerable sir, the Sakyan woman, the most beautiful in the country, does not come to comparison, does not come to a fraction, does not come to a fraction of a fraction, in relation to these five hundred nymphs. Indeed, these five hundred nymphs are more beautiful, more lovely, and more pleasing." "Take delight, Nanda, take delight, Nanda, I guarantee you the attainment of five hundred pigeon-footed nymphs." "If, venerable sir, the Blessed One guarantees me the attainment of five hundred pigeon-footed nymphs, I will take delight, venerable sir, in the holy life under the Blessed One."

Then the Blessed One, having taken the venerable Nanda, vanished from there and reappeared in Jeta's Grove itself. The monks heard, "It seems the venerable Nanda, the Blessed One's brother, his mother's son, leads the holy life for the sake of nymphs. The Blessed One is his guarantor for obtaining five hundred nymphs with lotus feet." Then the venerable Nanda's fellow monks addressed the venerable Nanda with terms of a hired man and a subsidized man, "It seems the venerable Nanda is a hired man, it seems the venerable Nanda is a subsidized man, he leads the holy life for the sake of nymphs. The Blessed One is his guarantor for obtaining five hundred nymphs with lotus feet." Then the venerable Nanda, being harassed, humiliated, and disgusted by his fellow monks with terms of a hired man and a subsidized man, dwelling alone, secluded, diligent, ardent, and resolute, before long realized for himself with direct knowledge, in this very life, that unsurpassed culmination of the holy life for which clansmen rightly go forth from the household life into homelessness, and having attained it, he remained, "Destroyed is birth, the holy life has been lived, what had to be done has been done, there is nothing further for this state of being," thus he knew. And the venerable Nanda became another one of the arahants.

Then a certain deity, having illuminated the entire Jeta's Grove in the night, approached the Teacher, paid homage, and announced: "Venerable sir, the venerable Nanda, the Blessed One's brother, his mother's son, having realized for himself with direct knowledge, in this very life, the taintless liberation of mind, liberation by wisdom, through the destruction of the taints, remains, having attained it." Knowledge also arose in the Blessed One: "Nanda, having realized for himself with direct knowledge, in this very life, the taintless liberation of mind, liberation by wisdom, through the destruction of the taints, remains, having attained it." Then the venerable Nanda, at the end of that night, approached the Blessed One, paid homage, and said this: "Venerable sir, may the Blessed One release himself from that promise of mine, for obtaining five hundred nymphs with lotus feet." "Indeed, Nanda, I also knew with my mind the state of your mind, that 'Nanda, having realized for himself with direct knowledge, in this very life, the taintless liberation of mind, liberation by wisdom, through the destruction of the taints, remains, having attained it.' A deity also announced this matter to me: 'Venerable sir, the venerable Nanda, having realized for himself with direct knowledge, in this very life, the taintless liberation of mind, liberation by wisdom, through the destruction of the taints, remains, having attained it.' Indeed, Nanda, when your mind was liberated from the taints without clinging, then I was released from this promise." Then the Blessed One, having understood this matter, on that occasion uttered this exclamation:

"He whose mire is crossed over, the thorn of sensual desire crushed,
Having attained the destruction of delusion, trembles not in pleasure and pain, he is a bhikkhu." (udā. 22);

Then one day the monks asked the venerable Nanda: "Friend Nanda, formerly you used to say 'I am longing,' what is it like for you now?" "There is no attachment for me, friends, for the household life." Having heard that, the monks said: "The venerable Nanda speaks untruth, declares something different, having said 'I am longing' in the past, now says 'there is no attachment for me for the household life,'" and having gone to the Blessed One, they announced this matter. The Blessed One said, "Monks, in the past Nanda's self was like a poorly roofed house, now it has become like a well-roofed house. For indeed, from the time of seeing those divine nymphs, striving to bring the task of one gone forth to its completion, he has attained that task," and having said that, he spoke these verses:

13.

"As rain breaks into a poorly roofed house,
So passion breaks into an undeveloped mind.

14.

"As rain does not break into a well-roofed house,
So passion does not break into a well-developed mind."

Agāraṃ, any kind of house. Ducchannaṃ, poorly roofed, with holes and gaps. Samativijjhati, the rain penetrates. Abhāvitaṃ, just as rain (penetrates) that house, so too, because of being devoid of development, passion penetrates an undeveloped mind. Not only passion, but all defilements such as hatred, delusion, and conceit pierce such a mind exceedingly. Subhāvitaṃ, well-developed with serenity and insight development. Defilements such as passion are not able to penetrate such a mind, like rain (penetrating) a well-roofed house.

At the end of the verses, many attained the fruits beginning with stream-entry. The teaching was beneficial to the great crowd.

Then the monks started up a discussion in the Dhamma hall, "Friends, the Buddhas are truly amazing, the venerable Nanda, who was longing because of the beauty of the land, was tamed by the Teacher by making divine nymphs as bait." The Teacher, having come and asked, "Monks, with what discussion are you gathered here now?" and when it was said, "With this name," (he said,) "Monks, not only now, but even before this he was tamed by me, having enticed him with a woman," and having said that, he brought forth the past:

In the past, while Brahmadatta was reigning in Bārāṇasī, there was a merchant named Kappaṭa living in Bārāṇasī. He had a donkey that carried a load of pots, traveling seven yojanas in one day. On one occasion, having gone to Takkasilā with loads for the donkey, until the goods were sold, he released the donkey to graze. Then that donkey, grazing on the edge of the moat, saw a female donkey and approached her. She, exchanging greetings with him, said, "Where have you come from?" "From Bārāṇasī." "By what work?" "By merchant work." "How much of a load do you carry?" "A load of pots." "Carrying such a load, how many yojanas do you travel?" "Seven yojanas." "In the places you go, do you have anyone to massage your feet or massage your back?" "No." "In that case, you experience great suffering?" "Even though there is no one to do foot massages and the like for those gone to the animal realm, why did you speak in such a way for the sake of inciting sensual union?" He longed for her speech. Kappaṭa also, having sold the goods, came to his presence and said, "Come, dear, let us go." "You go, I will not go." Then, having repeatedly requested him, thinking, "I will bring him, reproaching him unwillingly," he spoke a verse:

"I will make a goad for you, with a sixteen-finger thorn;
I will cut up your body, know this, donkey."

Having heard that, the donkey, thinking, "In that case, I too will know what must be done to you," spoke this verse:

"If you make a goad for me, with a sixteen-finger thorn,
Having stood in front, and pulling it out from behind;
I will knock out your teeth, know this, Kappaṭa."

Having heard that, the merchant, thinking, "By what reason does he speak thus?" looking here and there, saw that female donkey, (and thought,) "He will have been taught thus by her, 'I will bring you such a female donkey,' I will bring him, enticing him with a woman," he spoke this verse:

"A four-legged one with a conch-like face, a woman with beauty in all her limbs;
I will bring you a wife, know this, donkey."

Having heard that, the donkey, pleased in mind, spoke this verse:

"A four-legged one with a conch-like face, a woman with beauty in all her limbs;
If you bring me a wife, know this, Kappaṭa;
Kappaṭa, I will go even further, fourteen yojanas."

Then Kappaṭa, "In that case, come," having taken him, went to his own place. After a few days he said to him, "Surely you said to me, 'I will bring you a wife'?" "Yes, it was said, I will not break my word, I will bring you a wife, but I will give the wages only to you alone, whether your wages are sufficient for the second one or not, you alone would know. But through your cohabitation, sons will be born, whether that (wage), even together with many, is sufficient for you or not, you alone would know." The donkey became disinterested in that speech itself.

The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma teaching, (said,) "Then, monks, the female donkey was the beauty of the land, the donkey was Nanda, the merchant was myself. Thus, even before this, he was tamed by me, having enticed him with a woman," he concluded the Jātaka.

The Ninth Story of Nanda Thera.

10. The Story of Cunda the Pork Butcher

The Teacher, while dwelling at the Veluvana, spoke this Dhamma teaching, "He sorrows here," concerning a man named Cunda the pork butcher.

It seems that for fifty-five years he made a living by killing pigs, eating (their meat), and selling (it). When there was a lack of food, taking rice in a cart, having gone to the countryside, buying piglets for one or two nāḷis each, filling the cart, having come back, enclosing a place in the back settlement like a pigpen, having planted food there itself for them, when they had grown up eating various kinds of excrement and bodily waste, whichever one he wanted to kill, he would bind that one motionless to the slaughtering block, wait for the body's flesh to swell up and become thick, strike it with a square mallet, knowing that "thick flesh has formed," having opened its mouth and put a stick inside, he would pour boiling hot water from an iron pot into its mouth. That (water), having entered the stomach, taking the excrement that had been heated up, would come out from below; as long as there was even a little excrement, it would come out turbid; when the stomach was clean, it would come out clear and unturbid. Then he would pour the remaining water on its back. That would peel off the black skin. Then, having singed the hairs with a torch of grass, he would cut off the head with a sharp sword. Having received the flowing blood in a vessel, having kneaded the meat with the blood, having cooked (it) and eaten (it), sitting among his children and wife, he would sell the remainder. Fifty-five years passed for him, making a living in this very manner. While the Thus Gone One was dwelling in the Dhuravihāra, there was not even a flower-handful of offering or a spoonful of alms-giving or any other kind of merit for him even for one day. Then a disease arose in his body, the torment of the Avīci Great Hell arose for him while still living. The torment of Avīci is such that the burning is capable of breaking the eyes of one looking from a hundred yojanas away. And this was said:

"Its ground is made of iron, blazing and endowed with heat;
Always standing pervading a hundred yojanas all around." (ma. ni. 3.267; a. ni. 3.36);

It should be described with the Devadūta Sutta(ma. ni. 3.261 ff.; a. ni. 3.36).

The monks, going by the door of his house, hearing that sound, perceiving "the sound of pigs," having gone to the monastery and sat near the Teacher, said this: "Venerable sir, having closed the door of Cunda the pork butcher, today is the seventh day of pigs being killed, I think there will be some auspicious ceremony in the house. For one who kills so many pigs, venerable sir, there is not even one thought of loving-kindness or compassion, truly such a harsh and rough being has not been seen before by us." The Teacher (said,) "Monks, he does not kill pigs during these seven days, but the result similar to the action has arisen for him, the torment of the Avīci Great Hell has arisen for him while still living. Suffering from that torment for seven days, roaring the roar of pigs, wandering inside the house, today he made time and was reborn in Avīci," having said that, when it was said, "Venerable sir, having sorrowed thus in this world, again having gone (there) he was reborn in a place of sorrow itself," (he said,) "Yes, monks, whether householders or gone forth, those who are heedless sorrow in both (states)," having said that, he spoke this verse:

15.

"Here he grieves, hereafter he grieves;
The evil-doer grieves in both existences;
He grieves, he is tormented;
Seeing the corruption of his own deeds."

Pāpakārī means the person who does various kinds of evil deeds. At the time of death, he definitely grieves in this life, thinking, "Alas, I did not do good, I did evil." This is his grief over his deeds. However, while experiencing the result, he grieves hereafter. This is his grief over the result in the next world. Thus, he grieves in both existences. Therefore, even while living, he, like Cunda the pig-slaughterer, grieves. Disvā kammakiliṭṭha means having seen the corruption of his own deeds, lamenting in various ways, he is tormented.

At the end of the discourse, many attained stream-entry and other stages. Thus, the Dhamma talk was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Tenth Story about Cunda the Pig-Slaughterer.

11. The Story of Dhammika the Lay Follower

Idha modati This Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning Dhammika the lay follower.

It is said that in Savatthi there were five hundred lay followers named Dhammika. Each of them had five hundred lay followers as attendants. The eldest of them had seven sons and seven daughters. Each of them had a salākayāgu (ticket gruel), salākabhattaṃ (ticket food), pakkhikabhattaṃ (fortnightly food), nimantanabhattaṃ (invited food), uposathikabhattaṃ (Uposatha food), āgantukabhattaṃ (guest food), saṅghabhattaṃ (Sangha food), and vassāvāsikaṃ (rains-residence offering). All of them were named anujātaputtā (well-born sons). Thus, sixteen salākayāgu and so on were provided, fourteen for the sons and one for each the wife of the lay follower and the lay follower himself. Thus, he and his family were virtuous, of good Dhamma, and delighted in generosity and sharing. Then, later, he fell ill, and his life force declined. Desiring to hear the Dhamma, he sent word to the Teacher, saying, "Send eight or sixteen monks to me." The Teacher sent them. They went and surrounded his couch and sat on the seats arranged. When he said, "Venerables, it will be difficult for me to see the venerable ones, I am weak, please recite a sutta for me," they asked, "Which sutta do you wish to hear, lay follower?" When he said, "The Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta, which all Buddhas do not abandon," they began reciting the sutta, "This is the direct path, monks, for the purification of beings" (dī. ni. 2.373; ma. ni. 1.106). At that moment, six chariots, each adorned with all kinds of ornaments, drawn by a thousand Sindh horses, and spanning one and a half yojanas, arrived from six deva-worlds. The deities standing in them said, "We will take you to our deva-world, we will take you to our deva-world. O, like one taking a golden vessel after breaking an earthen pot, be reborn here to delight in our deva-world, be reborn here to delight in our deva-world." The lay follower, not wanting an interruption to the hearing of the Dhamma, said, "Come, come." The monks, thinking that he was stopping them, remained silent.

Then his sons and daughters cried out, "Our father was never satisfied with hearing the Dhamma before, but now, after inviting the monks and having them recite, he himself stops them. Surely, there is no one who can escape death." The monks, thinking, "Now there is no opportunity," rose from their seats and departed. After a short time, the lay follower regained his mindfulness and asked his sons, "Why are you crying?" "Father, you invited the monks and listened to the Dhamma, but then you stopped them yourself, so we cried, thinking, 'Surely, there is no one who can escape death.'" "Where are the venerable ones?" "They rose from their seats and left, thinking there was no opportunity, father." "I was not speaking with the venerable ones," he said. "Then with whom were you speaking?" "Deities from six deva-worlds have decorated six chariots and are standing in the sky, making sounds, saying, 'Delight with us in the deva-world, delight with us in our deva-world.' I was speaking with them." "Where are the chariots, father? We do not see them." "Do I have garlands of flowers?" "Yes, father." "Which deva-world is delightful?" "The Tusita heaven, the dwelling place of all Bodhisattas and the Buddhas’ mothers and fathers, is delightful, father." "Then throw the garland, saying, 'May it be attached to the chariot that has come from the Tusita heaven.'" They threw it. It became attached to the chariot's yoke and hung in the air. The great multitude saw only that, not the chariot. The lay follower said, "Look at that garland." When they said, "Yes, we see it," he said, "It is hanging from the chariot that has come from the Tusita heaven. I am going to the Tusita heaven. Do not grieve. Do deeds of merit in the same way as I have done, wishing to be reborn near me." Having said this, he passed away and took his place in the chariot.

At that very moment, his form, adorned and decorated, measuring three gāvutas (approximately 7 miles), with sixty cartloads of ornaments, arose; a thousand celestial nymphs attended him; and a golden mansion of twenty-five yojanas (approximately 200 miles) appeared. When those monks arrived at the monastery, the Teacher asked, "Did you hear the Dhamma talk by the lay follower, monks?" "Yes, venerable sir, but in the middle, he stopped us, saying, 'Come.' Then his sons and daughters cried. We left from our seats, thinking there was no opportunity." "He was not speaking with you, monks. Deities from six deva-worlds had decorated six chariots and brought them, inviting that lay follower. Not wanting an interruption to the Dhamma talk, he was speaking with them." "So it was, venerable sir." "So it was, monks." "Where is he reborn now?" "In the Tusita heaven, monks." "Venerable sir, having enjoyed himself among his relatives here, he has now gone and been reborn in a place of enjoyment again." "Yes, monks, whether lay or ordained, those who are diligent rejoice everywhere," and having said this, he spoke this verse:

16.

"Here he rejoices, hereafter he rejoices,
The doer of merit rejoices in both existences;
He rejoices, he is full of joy,
Seeing the purity of his own deeds."

Katapuñño means the person who does various kinds of meritorious deeds rejoices in this life with joy over his deeds, thinking, "I did not do evil, I did good," and hereafter with joy over the result. Thus, he rejoices in both existences. Kammavisuddhi means Dhammika the lay follower, having seen the purity of his own deeds, the accomplishment of meritorious deeds, rejoices even in this world before his death, and having died, now he rejoices exceedingly in the next world.

At the end of the discourse, many attained stream-entry and other stages. Thus, the Dhamma talk was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Eleventh Story about Dhammika the Lay Follower.

12. The Story of Devadatta

Idha tappati This Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning Devadatta.

The story of Devadatta, from the time of his ordination until he sank into the earth, along with all the Jatakas spoken concerning Devadatta, has been related in detail. Here is a summary: There was a town of the Mallas named Anupiya near where the Teacher was dwelling in Anupiya Mango Grove. On the very day that the marks of greatness were recognized in the Tathagata, eighty thousand children were pledged by families of relatives, saying, "Whether he becomes a king or a Buddha, he will live surrounded by a retinue of khattiyas." Seeing that among those who had gone forth in large numbers, these six Sakyans—Bhaddiya the king, Anuruddha, Ananda, Bhagu, Kimila, and Devadatta—had not gone forth, they raised the question, "We will ordain our sons. Do these six Sakyans not consider us relatives? Why do they not go forth?" Then Mahanama the Sakyan approached Anuruddha and said, "Dear one, there is no one ordained from our family. Either you go forth, or I will go forth." He, however, was delicate and lived in luxury; he had never even heard the word "no." One day, while those six khattiyas were playing a game of marbles, Anuruddha lost to pūva (cake) and sent for pūva. Then his mother prepared pūva and sent it. After they had eaten, they played again. Again and again, he was the loser. His mother, after sending pūva three times, sent word the fourth time, "There is no pūva." Because he had never heard the word "no" before, thinking, "This must be some kind of pūva," he sent word, "Bring me the 'no-pūva'." His mother, when told, "They say, 'Give the no-pūva, lady,'" thought, "My son has never heard the word 'no' before. I will inform him of this matter by this means." So she overturned an empty golden bowl with another golden bowl and sent it. The deities who guarded the city thought, "When Anuruddha the Sakyan gave his share of food during the time of sharing food to the Pacceka Buddha who was above, he made the aspiration, 'May I not hear the word "no," may I not know the place where food originates.' If he sees this empty bowl, we will not be able to enter the assembly of the gods, and our heads will split into seven pieces." Then they filled the bowl with divine pūva. As soon as it was placed on the stand for sweets and opened, the fragrance of the pūva spread throughout the entire city. As soon as a piece of pūva was placed in his mouth, seventeen thousand delights arose.

He thought, "I am not dear to my mother. For all this time, she has not made this 'no-pūva'. From now on, I will not eat any other pūva." So he went home and asked his mother, "Mother, am I dear to you, or not dear?" "Dear one, you have been exceedingly dear to me, like the eye of a one-eyed person and like my heart." "Then why have you not made 'no-pūva' for me all this time, mother?" She asked the junior attendant, "Is there anything in the bowl, dear?" "The bowl is full of pūva, lady. I have never seen pūva like this before," he reported. She thought, "My son will be meritorious and have made an aspiration. The deities must have filled the bowl and sent the pūva." "From now on, son," she said, "when I say, 'We want to eat pūva,' you should only cook 'no-pūva'." From then on, whenever he said, "I want to eat pūva," she would overturn an empty bowl with another bowl and send it. As long as he lived in the house, the deities sent him pūva.

Not even knowing this much, how would he know what ordination is? Therefore, having asked his brother, "What is this ordination?" and being told, "Having shaved off hair and beard, wearing the yellow robe, lying on a wooden cot or a bamboo bed, one should live by wandering for alms. This is ordination," he said, "Brother, I am delicate. I will not be able to go forth." "Then, dear one, learn a trade and live as a householder. It is not possible for us to not have one who has gone forth." Then he asked, "What is this trade?" "What will a son of good family, who does not even know where food originates, know about a trade?" One day, a discussion arose among three khattiyas: "Where does food originate?" Kimila said, "It originates in the storehouse." Then Bhaddiya said to him, "You do not know where food originates. Food originates in the cooking pot." Anuruddha said, "You both do not know. Food originates in a golden bowl, in a jewel-encrusted cup."

It is said that one day, Kimila, seeing rice being brought down from the granary, thought, "These originated in the granary itself." Bhaddiya, one day, seeing cooked rice being served, thought, "It arose from the cooking pot itself." But Anuruddha had never seen rice in the granary, nor rice being cooked, nor being served; he only saw it after it had been served and placed before him. When he wanted to eat, he assumed that the rice rose up into the bowl. Thus, all three of them did not know where the rice came from. Therefore, he asked, "What is this activity called?" and after hearing about the tasks to be done year after year, beginning with "First, the field must be plowed," he said, "When will the end of these tasks be seen? When will we enjoy wealth without labor?" Having been told that there was no end to the tasks, he went to his mother and said, "In that case, you live the household life; I have no use for it." He then said, "Mother, allow me to go forth," but she refused him in various ways three times. When she said, "If your friend King Bhaddiya goes forth, then go forth with him," he approached him and said, "My going forth, friend, depends on you." After persuading him in various ways, he obtained a promise that he would go forth with him on the seventh day.

Having heard the Mahāvitakkasutta (A. N. 8.30), he attained Arahatship. Āyasmā Ānanda was established in the fruit of Stream-entry. Bhagu Thera and Kimila Thera, in the latter part of their lives, developed insight and attained Arahatship. Devadatta attained mundane psychic powers (iddhi).

Later, while the Teacher was dwelling in Kosambi, great gain and honor arose for the Tathāgata and the Saṅgha of disciples. People, with robes and medicines in hand, would enter the monastery, looking around for the seats of the eighty great disciples, saying, "Where is the Teacher? Where is Sāriputta Thera? Where is Mahāmoggallāna Thera? Where is Mahākassapa Thera? Where is Bhaddiya Thera? Where is Anuruddha Thera? Where is Ānanda Thera? Where is Bhagu Thera? Where is Kimila Thera?" There was no one who asked, "Where is Devadatta Thera sitting or standing?" He thought, "I also went forth with these people, and they too are Khattiya ascetics, and I am also a Khattiya ascetic. People with gains and honor in their hands seek only them, and there is no one who even mentions my name. With whom should I associate, whom should I please, so that gain and honor might arise for me?" Then this occurred to him: "King Bimbisāra was established in the fruit of Stream-entry along with eleven myriads at the very first sight. It is not possible to associate with him. Nor is it possible to associate with King Kosala. But this Prince Ajātasattu, the king's son, does not know anyone's virtues or faults; I will associate with him." So he went from Kosambi to Rājagaha, transformed himself into the appearance of a young boy, bound four poisonous snakes around his four limbs and one around his neck, made a bundle on his head, wore a single upper robe, and descended from the sky with this snake-girdle, sat on Ajātasattu's lap. When the frightened prince asked, "Who are you?" he said, "I am Devadatta." To dispel his fear, he retracted that form, stood before him wearing the Saṅghāṭi and carrying the alms bowl, pleased him, and generated gain and honor for himself. Overwhelmed by gain and honor, he generated the evil thought, "I will lead the Saṅgha of monks." With the arising of this thought, he declined from his psychic powers. After venerating the Teacher, who was teaching the Dhamma in the Veḷuvana monastery to the assembly along with the king, he rose from his seat, raised his joined hands, and said, "Bhante, the Blessed One is now old, aged, and advanced in years. Let the Blessed One devote himself to a life of ease, a life of dwelling in the present happiness. I will lead the Saṅgha of monks. Entrust the Saṅgha of monks to me." Having been rejected by the Teacher with a dismissive remark, he departed displeased, harboring this first grudge against the Tathāgata.

He told the Cūḷahaṃsa Jātaka (Jā. 1.15.133 ff), the Mahāhaṃsa Jātaka (Jā. 2.21.89 ff), and the Kakkaṭaka Jātaka (Jā. 1.3.49 ff). Devadatta's deed was not obvious, just as the king's having been killed, or the murderers having been employed, or the stone having been thrown, were not obvious, but the releasing of the Nāḷāgiri elephant was obvious. At that time, the great crowd exclaimed, "The king was killed by Devadatta, the murderers were employed, and the stone was thrown. Now he has released Nāḷāgiri. Such an evil one is going about with the king!"

Having heard the people's talk, the king had five hundred pots of rice removed and did not go to attend on him again, and the townspeople did not give him even a morsel of food when he visited their families. He, having declined in gain and honor, wishing to live by deception, approached the Teacher and requested five things. Having been rejected by the Blessed One, who said, "Enough, Devadatta, whoever wishes may be a forest dweller," he asked, "Whose word is good, the Tathāgata's or mine? I say thus with excellent emphasis, 'It is good, Bhante, that monks should be forest dwellers for life, alms-food eaters, rag-robe wearers, tree-root dwellers, and should not eat fish and meat.'" He departed, saying, "Whoever wishes to be freed from suffering, let him come with me." Hearing his words, some new and foolish ascetics thought, "Devadatta speaks well; we will live with him," and they associated with him. Thus, he, with five hundred monks, pleasing the crude and unrefined people with those five things, causing them to believe and making them eat, tried to split the Saṅgha. When he was asked by the Blessed One, "Is it true, Devadatta, that you are trying to split the Saṅgha, trying to break the wheel?" he replied, "It is true, Bhagavā." Even after being admonished with "Splitting the Saṅgha is a serious matter, Devadatta," etc., he disregarded the Teacher's words and departed. Seeing Āyasmā Ānanda wandering for alms in Rājagaha, he said, "From today, Āvuso Ānanda, I will hold the Uposatha and perform the Saṅghakamma separately from the Blessed One and separately from the Saṅgha of monks." The Thera reported this matter to the Blessed One. Knowing this, the Teacher, experiencing religious agitation at the arising of the event, reflecting that "Devadatta is doing a deed that leads to his own destruction in Avīci hell, a deed that results in harm for the world with its Devas"—

‘‘Easy are things that are not good, and that are harmful to oneself;
But exceedingly difficult is that which is good and beneficial.’’ (Dhp. 163) –

Having spoken this verse, he then uttered this utterance:

‘‘Easy is it for a good man to do good; hard is it for a bad man to do good.
Easy is it for a bad man to do evil; hard is it for an Ariya to do evil.’’ (Ud. 48; Cūḷava. 343);

Then Devadatta, on the Uposatha day, sitting in seclusion with his company, said, "Whoever approves of these five things, let him take a ballot." When the five hundred Vajjiputtaka monks, who were new, ungrateful, took a ballot, he split the Saṅgha and went to Gayāsīsa with those monks. Hearing that he had gone there, the Teacher sent the two chief disciples to bring back those monks. They went there, and while instructing them with instruction by way of supernormal power of communication and instruction by way of psychic power, they gave them the deathless (amata) and brought them back through the sky. Kokālika also said, "Get up, Āvuso Devadatta, your monks have been taken away by Sāriputta and Moggallāna. Did I not tell you, 'Do not trust Sāriputta and Moggallāna, Āvuso'? Sāriputta and Moggallāna have evil desires; they have gone under the control of evil desires." He then struck him in the middle of the chest with his knee, and immediately hot blood gushed from his mouth. When the monks saw Āyasmā Sāriputta coming through the sky surrounded by the Saṅgha of monks, they said, "Bhante, Āyasmā Sāriputta went forth at first as one attended by one other, but now he is beautiful coming with a large retinue." The Teacher said, "It is not only now, monks, that Sāriputta is beautiful; even in the past, when he was born in the animal realm, my son was indeed beautiful coming to my presence," and said—

‘‘Merit accrues to the virtuous, those who practice hospitality;
See the auspicious one coming, preceded by a host of relatives;
Now see this black one, bereft of relatives like a deserted village.’’ (Jā. 1.1.11) –

He told this Jātaka. Again, when the monks said, "Bhante, it is said that Devadatta, having seated the two chief disciples on both sides of him, is imitating you, saying, 'I will teach the Dhamma with the grace of the Buddha,'" he said, "It is not only now, monks, that he is trying to imitate me; he was not able to do so in the past either," and said—

‘‘Did you see, Vīraka, that sweet-voiced bird,
Like the neck of a peacock, my partner in life?’’

‘‘Of water and land living birds,
Always eating raw fish;
Imitating him, my partner,
Covered in algae, died.’’ (Jā. 1.2.107-108) –

Having told the Jātaka beginning thus, on other days also, beginning a story that was similarly appropriate—

‘‘He wandered striking the forests,
In trees of heartless timber;
Then he tasted heartwood, full of pith,
Where the Garuḷa, chief of birds, perched.’’ (Jā. 1.2.120);

‘‘Your teeth are loose, the topknot is destroyed,
All your ribs are broken, today you shine forth!’’ (Jā. 1.1.143) –

He told Jātakas such as these. Again, beginning a story about "Devadatta is ungrateful"—

‘‘I did for you what you should have done, with the strength I possessed;
Hail to you, King of Beasts, may I gain something at least.’’

‘‘For me, a blood-eater, always doing cruel deeds,
You, dwelling between my teeth, are greatly honored even while living.’’ (Jā. 1.4.29-30) –

He told Jātakas beginning thus. Again, beginning with the attempt to kill him—

‘‘The deer knows this, that you lie in wait;
I go to another lying-in-wait, your fruit does not please me.’’ (Jā. 1.1.21) –

He told Jātakas beginning thus. Again, on another day, when conversations were taking place about "Devadatta has declined from both, from gain and honor and from the life of a Samaṇa," he said, "It is not only now, monks, that Devadatta has declined; he was declining even in the past," and said—

‘‘Eyes are broken, the cloth is lost, and strife in the friend's house;
Affairs are spoiled in both ways, in water and on land.’’ (Jā. 1.1.139) –

He told Jātakas beginning thus. Thus, while dwelling in Rājagaha, he told many Jātakas about Devadatta, and after going from Rājagaha to Sāvatthi, he resided in the Jetavana monastery. Devadatta also, after being ill for nine months, in his final time, wishing to see the Teacher, said to his disciples, "I wish to see the Teacher; show him to me." When they said, "You acted as an enemy towards the Teacher when you were able, we will not take you there," he said, "Do not destroy me; I have harbored a grudge against the Teacher, but the Teacher has no grudge against me even to the extent of a hair tip." For that Blessed One—

‘‘Towards the murderer Devadatta, the thief Aṅgulimāla,
Dhanapāla and Rāhula, everywhere his mind was the same.’’ (Apa. Thera 1.1.585; Mi. Pā. 6.6.5) –

"Let me see the Buddha," he repeatedly requested. Then they took him on a litter and went out. Hearing of his arrival, the monks informed the Teacher, "Venerable sir, it seems Devadatta is coming to see you." "Monks, he will not be able to see me with that self," (the Buddha replied). It is said that from the time Devadatta requested the five points, he was never again able to see the Buddha; this is a natural law. (The monks reported,) "Venerable sir, he has arrived at such and such a place." "Let him do what he wishes; he will not be able to see me." "Venerable sir, he has come a yojana away, half a yojana, a gāvuta, he has arrived near the Jetavana pond." "Even if he enters inner Jetavana, he will not be able to see me." Those who had brought Devadatta lowered the litter at the bank of the Jetavana pond and went down to bathe in the pond. Devadatta also rose from the litter, placed both feet on the ground, and sat down. His feet sank into the earth. Gradually, he sank up to his ankles, up to his knees, up to his waist, up to his chest, up to his neck, and when his jawbone was about to sink into the earth –

"With these bones, I go for refuge
To the foremost individual, the God beyond gods, the charioteer of men to be tamed,
The all-seeing one, marked with a hundred merits,
To the Buddha with my life." (mi. pa. 4.1.3) –

He spoke this verse. It is said that the Tathāgata ordained Devadatta seeing this situation. For if he had not ordained, remaining a householder he would have done even heavier deeds, and would not have been able to create a condition for escaping existence in the future; but having ordained, even though he will do a heavy deed, he will be able to create a condition for escaping existence in the future; thus, the Teacher ordained him. In a hundred thousand aeons from now, he will be a Paccekabuddha named Aṭṭhissara. Having sunk into the earth, he was reborn in Avīci. Because of his offense against the unwavering Buddha, having become unwavering, he is cooked. In the Avīci hell, which is a hundred yojanas in extent, his body alone is a hundred yojanas in thickness. His head, up to the ear-holes, entered an iron pan above; his feet, up to the ankles, entered an iron ground below; an iron stake the size of a large palm tree trunk emerged from the western wall, pierced his back and came out through his chest into the eastern wall; another emerged from the right wall, pierced his right side and came out through his left side into the northern wall; another emerged from the top of his skull, pierced his head, emerged below and entered the iron ground. Thus, he is cooked there, unwavering.

The monks started a discussion: "Devadatta came such a distance but, not being able to see the Teacher, sank into the earth." The Teacher said, "Monks, it is not only now that Devadatta has offended me and sunk into the earth; he sank even before." To reveal that he had sunk into the earth when, in the time of the elephant king, after reassuring a man lost on the road, he had carried him on his back to safety, but he came again three times and each time bit off his tusks in that very place, in the middle, and at the base, and the third time was going out of sight of the Great Being, (the Buddha) said:

"Even if one gives the whole earth
To a person who is ungrateful, who always sees faults,
One would not please him." (jā. 1.1.72; 1.9.107) –

He told the Khantivādijātaka(jā. 1.4.49 ff.), and to reveal that he had sunk into the earth by offending himself in the Cūḷadhammapāla's existence, who was of great power, he told the Cūḷadhammapālajātaka(jā. 1.5.44 ff.).

When Devadatta sank into the earth, the great crowd, delighted and pleased, raised flags, banners, and plantain trees, placed full water pots, and enjoyed a great festival, saying, "What a gain for us!" They reported that matter to the Blessed One. The Blessed One said, "Monks, it is not only now that the great crowd rejoices at Devadatta's death; they rejoiced even before," and to reveal the rejoicing of the great crowd at the death of a cruel and harsh man disliked by everyone, named Piṅgala, in Bārāṇasī, (the Buddha) said –

"All the people were harmed by Piṅgala,
At his death, they express their satisfaction;
Was the black-eyed one dear to you?
Why do you weep, gatekeeper?"

"The black-eyed one was not dear to me,
I fear his return;
Having gone from here, he might harm the King of Death,
Being harmed, he might bring him here again." (jā. 1.2.179-180) –

He told the Piṅgalajātaka. The monks asked the Teacher, "Venerable sir, where was Devadatta reborn now?" "In the Avīci great hell, monks." "Venerable sir, having wandered here tormented, he went again and was reborn in the same place of torment?" "Yes, monks, whether they are ordained or householders, those who live heedlessly are tormented in both (existences)," (the Buddha) said, and spoke this verse –

17.

"Here he grieves, hereafter he grieves, the evil-doer grieves in both (existences);
He grieves, (thinking) 'I have done evil,' he grieves even more, having gone to a bad destination."

Here he grieves: here, he grieves with grief arising from the deed, with mere displeasure. Hereafter: but in the next world, he grieves with the extremely terrible suffering of deprivation arising from the result. Evil-doer: the doer of various kinds of evil. In both (existences): with this grief spoken of in this way, he grieves in both (existences). I have done evil: indeed, grieving with grief arising from the deed, he grieves, "I have done evil." That grief is slight, but grieving with grief arising from the result, he grieves even more, having gone to a bad destination: he grieves greatly with extremely harsh torment.

At the end of the verses, many became Stream-enterers and so on. The teaching was beneficial to the great crowd.

The Twelfth Story about Devadatta.

13. The Story about Sumanādevī

Here he rejoices: The Teacher spoke this Dhamma talk concerning Sumanādevī while dwelling at Jetavana.

In Sāvatthī, two thousand monks would regularly take their meals in Anāthapiṇḍika's house, and likewise in Visākhā Mahāupāsikā's house. In Sāvatthī, whoever wished to give a donation would do so only after obtaining permission from those two. Why? Because having asked, "Have Anāthapiṇḍika or Visākhā come to your alms-giving event?", if they were told "They have not come," they would criticize even a donation involving the expenditure of a hundred thousand (kahāpaṇas), saying "What kind of donation is this?" For both of them knew very well the monks' preferences and proper customary duties, and when they were supervising, the monks would enjoy food of the finest quality. Therefore, everyone who wished to give a donation would take them along. Thus, they could not get to serve the monks at their own homes. Then Visākhā, considering, "Who, standing in my place, will serve the Saṅgha of monks?" saw her son's daughter and placed her in her own place. She served the Saṅgha of monks in her house. Anāthapiṇḍika also placed his eldest daughter named Mahāsubhaddā. While she was doing service for the monks and listening to the Dhamma, she became a Stream-enterer and went to her husband's family. Then he placed Cūḷasubhaddā. She too, doing likewise, became a Stream-enterer and went to her husband's family. Then he placed Sumanādevī, his youngest daughter. Having listened to the Dhamma, she attained the Fruit of Once-returning, and while still a maiden, being sick with such an ailment without ease, having stopped eating food, and desiring to see her father, she sent for him. Hearing her message at one alms-giving event, he came and said, "What is it, dear Sumanā?" She also said to him, "What is it, father, little brother?" "Are you delirious, dear?" "I am not delirious, little brother." "Are you afraid, dear?" "I am not afraid, little brother." Having said just this much, she passed away. Though he was a Stream-enterer, unable to bear the grief that arose in the wealthy man at his daughter's passing, having had the rites for his daughter's body performed, weeping, he went to the Teacher and (the Buddha) said, "Why, householder, have you come grieving, depressed, with tearful face, weeping?" He said, "Venerable sir, my daughter Sumanādevī has passed away." "Why then do you grieve? Is death not certain for all?" "I know that, venerable sir, but such a daughter of mine was endowed with shame and moral dread, and she was not able to establish mindfulness at the time of death, and died delirious, therefore not a little displeasure has arisen in me." "But what did she say, great merchant?" "I addressed her, venerable sir, 'Dear Sumanā.' Then she said to me, 'What is it, father, little brother?' 'Are you delirious, dear?' 'I am not delirious, little brother.' 'Are you afraid, dear?' 'I am not afraid, little brother.' Having said just this much, she passed away." Then the Blessed One said to him, "Great merchant, your daughter was not delirious." "Why then, venerable sir, did she say so?" "Just because she was younger. For, householder, your daughter is older than you by means of the Paths and Fruits. For you are a Stream-enterer, but your daughter is a Once-returner. Because she is older than you by means of the Paths and Fruits, she said that to you." "Is that so, venerable sir?" "That is so, householder." "Where was she reborn now, venerable sir?" "In the Tusita heaven, householder." "Venerable sir, my daughter, having wandered rejoicing among her relatives here, having gone from here, was also reborn in a place of rejoicing." Then the Teacher said to him, "Yes, householder, those who are heedful, whether householders or renunciates, indeed rejoice in this world and in the next," and spoke this verse –

18.

"Here he rejoices, hereafter he rejoices, the doer of merit rejoices in both (existences);
He rejoices, (thinking) 'I have done merit,' he rejoices even more, having gone to a good destination."

Here: in this world, he rejoices with the joy of (good) action. Hereafter: in the next world, he rejoices with the joy of the result. Doer of merit: the doer of various kinds of merit. In both (existences): here, he rejoices (thinking), "I have done good, I have not done evil," and in the next world, he rejoices experiencing the result. (Thinking) 'I have done merit': but here, rejoicing, he rejoices (thinking), "I have done merit," with mere gladness, taking up the joy of (good) action. Even more: but with the joy of the result, having gone to a good destination, experiencing divine prosperity for fifty-seven crores, sixty hundred thousand years, he rejoices greatly in the Tusita heaven.

At the end of the verses, many became Stream-enterers and so on. The Dhamma teaching was beneficial to the great crowd.

The Thirteenth Story about Sumanādevī.

14. The Story about Two Companion Monks

Even though much: The Teacher spoke this Dhamma talk concerning two companions while dwelling at Jetavana.

Indeed, two young men, friends from Sāvatthi, went to the monastery. After hearing the Teacher's Dhamma talk, they, with hearts set on the Dispensation, renounced sensual pleasures and ordained. Having lived for five years under their preceptors and teachers, they approached the Teacher, inquired about the burdens in the Dispensation, and listened in detail about the burdens of insight meditation and study. One of them said, "Venerable sir, I ordained in old age and will not be able to fulfill the burden of study; however, I will fulfill the burden of insight meditation." Thus, striving and making effort, he developed insight meditation until he attained Arahantship with the discriminations. The other one, however, said, "I will fulfill the burden of study." Gradually, he learned the entire Tipitaka, the word of the Buddha. Wherever he went, he taught the Dhamma, recited melodiously, and wandered about reciting the Dhamma to five hundred monks. He became the teacher of eighteen large groups. Monks, having taken a meditation subject from the Teacher, went to the dwelling place of that other Thera. Standing by his advice, they attained Arahantship and, after venerating the Thera, said, "We wish to see the Teacher." The Thera sent them, saying, "Go, friends, venerate the Teacher in my name, and also tell the eighty great Theras, ‘Your teacher venerates you.’" Those monks went to the monastery, venerated the Teacher and the eighty great Theras, and then went to the Ganthika Thera (the scholar monk), saying, "Venerable sir, our teacher venerates you." When the other one asked, "Who is that?" they replied, "Your friend monk, venerable sir." As the Theras repeatedly sent messages in this way, that monk endured it for a short time. Later, unable to bear it, when it was said, "Our teacher venerates you," he asked, "Who is this?" When they said, "Your friend monk," he said, "What have you learned from him? Is it one of the Dīgha Nikāya and others, or one Piṭaka out of the three Piṭakas?" He thought, "He does not even know a four-line verse. Having taken a rag-robe, he entered the forest immediately upon ordination. He has obtained many disciples. When he comes, it will be fitting for me to ask him a question."

Then later, the Thera came to see the Teacher. After leaving his bowl and robes at the dwelling of his friend Thera, he went and venerated the Teacher and the eighty great Theras and returned to his friend's dwelling. Then, after having the duties performed for him, taking a seat of appropriate size, he sat down thinking, "I will ask a question." At that moment, the Teacher, thinking, "This one might harm my son in such a way that he would be reborn in hell," out of compassion for him, as if wandering for alms in the monastery, went to the place where they were sitting and sat down on the excellent Buddha-seat that had been prepared. For monks, wherever they sit, prepare a Buddha-seat before sitting. Therefore, the Teacher sat down on the seat that was already prepared. After sitting down, the scholar monk asked a question about the first jhāna, and when he could not explain it, starting with the second jhāna, he asked questions about all eight attainments and about form and formless realms. The scholar Thera could not explain even one. The other one explained all of it. Then he asked him a question about the Sotāpatti Magga. The scholar Thera could not explain it. Then he asked the Khīṇāsava Thera. The Thera explained it. The Teacher, praising, "Good, good, monks," asked questions in order about the remaining paths as well. The scholar could not explain even one, but the Khīṇāsava explained each question as it was asked. The Teacher gave approval to him in all four instances. Having heard that, starting with the terrestrial deities and reaching up to the Brahma realm, all the deities and Nāgas and Supaṇṇas gave approval. Having heard that approval, his disciples and co-residents criticized the Teacher, saying, "What is this that the Teacher has done? He gave approval in four instances to an old Thera who knows nothing, but he did not even offer a word of praise for our teacher, who is a master of the entire doctrine and the leader of five hundred monks." Then the Teacher, asking them, "What is this that you are saying, monks?" and when the matter was made known, said, "Monks, your teacher is like a hired cowherd in my Dispensation, but my son is like the owner who enjoys the five products of the cow according to his pleasure," and spoke these verses:

19.

“Though much he recites the Sacred Texts,
But acts not accordingly, the heedless man;
Like a cowherd who counts others’ kine,
He has no share in the blessings of the Holy Life.

20.

“Though little he recites the Sacred Texts,
But in accordance with the Teaching lives;
Forsaking lust and hatred and delusion,
Knowing rightly, with mind well-freed,
Clinging to naught here or hereafter,
He has a share in the blessings of the Holy Life.”

Saṃhita: This is a name for the Tipiṭaka, the word of the Buddha. Having approached a teacher, learned it, and recited much to others, bhāsamāno—causing to recite—he does not do what needs to be done by the acting individual, having heard that Dhamma. He does not even apply proper attention by way of impermanence, etc., even to the extent of flapping his wings like a chicken. This is just like a cowherd who, guarding cows for hire during the day, receives everything completely in the morning and, taking them in the evening, hands them over to the owners, taking only the daily wage; however, he is not allowed to enjoy the five products of the cow according to his pleasure. In the same way, he is only a sharer in the doing of service and attendance from the co-residents, but he is not a sharer in the blessings of the Holy Life. Just as the owners themselves enjoy the products of the cows handed over by the cowherd, so too, having heard the Dhamma spoken by him, the acting individuals, practicing according to the instruction, some attain the first jhāna and so on, some develop insight meditation and attain the paths and fruits; the owners of the cows are the sharers in the blessings of the products of the cow.

Thus, the Teacher spoke the first verse with reference to a monk who is accomplished in virtue, very learned, and living heedlessly, being heedless in proper attention by way of impermanence, etc., not to one who is immoral. The second verse, however, was spoken with reference to an acting individual who, even though not very learned, is doing his job with proper attention.

Appampī ce: even a little, only one or two sections. Dhammassa hoti anudhammacārī: understanding the meaning, understanding the Dhamma, living according to the Dhamma that is in accordance with the nine supramundane Dhammas, that is, living the anudhammacārī, which is known as the preliminary practice consisting of the fourfold purity of morality, the dhutaṅgas, and the aspects of foulness meditation, etc. He wanders about aspiring to penetration "today, even today." By this right practice, having abandoned lust and hatred and, rightly knowing delusion, knowing the knowable things by the right cause and method, with a mind well-freed by way of momentary liberation, suppression liberation, severance liberation, tranquilization liberation, and escape liberation, anupādiyāno idha vā huraṃ vā: not clinging to the aggregates, sense bases, and elements that are involved in this world and the next, or to the internal or external, with the four kinds of clinging, the great Khīṇāsava is a sharer in the fruit of the Holy Life that has come about by way of the path, which is known as the Holy Life, and in the five trainings of a Noble One. Like a pinnacle with jewels, he takes hold of the pinnacle of the Dispensation with Arahantship.

At the end of the verses, many became stream-enterers and so on. The discourse was beneficial to the great assembly.

The Story of the Two Friend Monks, the Fourteenth.

The Commentary on the Yamaka Vagga is Finished.

The First Chapter.

2. Appamāda Vagga

1. The Story of Sāmāvatī

Appamādo amatapadaṃ: The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse concerning heedfulness is the path to the Deathless, in dependence upon Kosambī, while dwelling at Ghositārāma, concerning the misfortune of death of Sāmāvatī and five hundred women headed by her, and of the five hundred relatives of hers, headed by Māgaṇḍiya.

Herein is the connected story: In the past, there was a king named Allakappa in the Allakappa country, and a king named Veṭhadīpaka in the Veṭhadīpaka country. These two, having been friends since they were young, having learned skills in the same teacher's house, having raised the umbrella after the death of their respective fathers, became kings in countries that were ten yojanas in length. Meeting from time to time, standing, sitting, and lying down together, seeing the great mass of people being born, aging, and dying, they consulted, "There is no one who follows one who goes to the next world; not even one's own body follows. Everything must be left behind and one must go. What is the use of our living at home? Let us go forth." Having handed over their kingdoms to their sons and wives, they went forth into the ascetic life and, dwelling in the Himalayan region, they consulted, "We have gone forth renouncing our kingdoms, not being unable to live. If we live in one place, we will be just like those who have not gone forth. Therefore, we will live separately. You live on this mountain, and I will live on that mountain. However, on the Uposatha day, every fortnight, we will come together." Then the thought occurred to them, "Even in this way, we will still have association in groups. You light a fire on your mountain, and I will light a fire on my mountain. By that sign, we will know of each other's existence." They did so.

Then later, the ascetic Veṭhadīpaka died and was reborn as a powerful Devarāja. After half a month had passed, not seeing the fire, the other one knew, "My friend has died." The other one, immediately upon being reborn, beholding his own divine glory and reflecting upon his deeds, seeing his ascetic practice from the time of renunciation, thinking, "I will go and see my friend," abandoning that existence, like a highwayman, he went to his presence, venerated him, and stood to one side. Then he said to him, "From where have you come?" "Venerable sir, I am a highwayman, I have come from afar. But, venerable sir, does the venerable one live alone in this place, or is there anyone else?" "There is one friend of mine." "Where is he?" "He lives on this mountain, but he does not light the fire on the Uposatha day. He must be dead." "Is that so, venerable sir?" "Yes, friend." "Venerable sir, I am he." "Where were you reborn?" "Venerable sir, I was reborn in the world of the Devas as a powerful Devarāja. I have come again thinking, 'I will see the venerable one.' But is there any trouble for the venerable ones living in this place?" "Yes, friend, I am troubled on account of the elephants." "What do the elephants do, venerable sir?" "They drop dung in the sweeping place, and striking the ground with their feet, they kick up dust. So I am troubled while throwing away the dung and leveling the dust." "Do you wish for them not to come?" "Yes, friend." "Then I will cause them not to come." And he gave the elephant-repelling lute and the elephant-repelling mantra to the ascetic. While giving them, showing three strings on the lute and teaching three mantras, he said, "Having struck this string and uttered this mantra, the elephants flee without even being able to turn around to look. Having struck this string and uttered this mantra, they flee turning around and looking behind them. Having struck this string and uttered this mantra, the leader of the herd of elephants comes placing his back [to you]," having explained this, he said, "Do whatever pleases you," and having venerated the ascetic, he departed. The ascetic, having uttered the flight mantra and struck the flight string, drove away the elephants and lived there.

So one day he said to the Paccekabuddha, "Venerable sir, when I don't have the opportunity, I will send this dog. Please come when you recognize him." From then on, on days when he didn't have the opportunity, he would send the dog, saying, "Go, dear, bring the venerable one." The dog, obedient to his word, would bound off, bark three times at the spot where his master would clear and prepare the ground, letting the wild animals know to flee with that sound. In the early morning, having refreshed himself, he would go to the Paccekabuddha's dwelling, enter the leaf hut, bark three times at the entrance to announce his arrival, and then lie down to one side. When the Paccekabuddha discerned the time and departed, the dog would bark and walk ahead. Sometimes the Paccekabuddha, testing him, would take a different path. Then the dog would stand across his path, barking, and lead him back to the correct route. One day, when the Paccekabuddha took a different path and did not turn back despite the dog standing across his path and trying to stop him, he struck the dog with his foot and went on. The dog, realizing that he wouldn't turn back, bit the edge of his robe and pulled him back onto the correct path. In this way, he developed a strong affection for him.

Later, the Paccekabuddha's robe became worn. Then the herdsman gave him cloths for a robe. The Paccekabuddha said to him, "Friend, making a robe is difficult for one person alone. I will go to a place suitable for making robes and have it made." "Please make it here, venerable sir," he said. "It is not possible, friend." "Then, venerable sir, do not stay away too long." The dog stood listening to their conversation. The Paccekabuddha, having stopped the herdsman, saying, "Wait, lay follower," rose into the air and flew towards Gandhamādana. The dog, seeing him going through the air, barked and remained standing, and as he disappeared from sight, his heart burst, and he died. It is said that animals are straightforward and not deceitful. Humans, however, think one thing in their hearts and say another with their mouths. Therefore, it was said, "This is deep, venerable sir, that is, human beings; this is shallow, venerable sir, that is, beasts" (ma. ni. 2.3).

Thus, due to that uprightness and lack of deceit, having died, he was reborn in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven, surrounded by a thousand nymphs, experiencing great wealth. The sound of his whispering in the ear carries for sixteen yojanas, but the sound of his ordinary speech covers the entire ten-thousand-yojana city of the gods. Therefore, he was named "Ghosaka Devaputta." "What is this the result of?" The result of barking with affection for the Paccekabuddha. He did not stay there long before passing away. For deities pass away from the deva-world for four reasons: from the exhaustion of lifespan, the exhaustion of merit, the exhaustion of sustenance, and from anger.

From the exhaustion of lifespan one passes away. For one who has done limited merit, that merit is exhausted in between, just like a small amount of grain, only two or three nāḷis, placed in the royal storehouse, and one dies in between. Thus, from the exhaustion of merit one passes away. Furthermore, while enjoying sensual pleasures, one passes away, having an exhausted body from not partaking of food mindfully. Thus, from the exhaustion of sustenance one passes away. Furthermore, being unable to bear another's prosperity, one passes away in anger. Thus, from anger one passes away.

This one, however, while enjoying sensual pleasures, passed away due to the exhaustion of sustenance, being unmindful, and was reborn in the womb of a courtesan in Kosambī. On the day he was born, she asked a slave woman, "What is this?" When told, "It's a son, mistress," she ordered, "Come now, you wretch, put this child in a winnowing basket and throw him on the rubbish heap." For courtesans take care of daughters, not sons. For their lineage is maintained by daughters. Crows and dogs surrounded the child and sat there. Due to the effect of barking with affection for the Paccekabuddha, none dared to approach him. At that moment, a man came out and, seeing that gathering of crows and dogs, went and saw the child. Affection for the child arose in him, and thinking, "I have found a son," he took him home. Then the Kosambaka treasurer, going to the royal palace, saw the chaplain coming from the royal residence and asked, "What, teacher, have you determined the auspicious time and constellation today?" "Yes, great treasurer, what other business do we have? What will happen to the country?" "Nothing else, but in this city today a child born will become the chief treasurer." At that time, the treasurer's wife was heavily pregnant. Therefore, he quickly sent a man home, saying, "Go, fellow, find out whether she has given birth or not." Hearing that she had not given birth, he went quickly to the palace, saw the king, and then went home and summoned a slave woman named Kāḷī, giving her a thousand (kahāpaṇas), saying, "Go, wretch, search this city and, after giving a thousand, take the child born today and come back." Searching, she went to that house, saw the child, asked the householder, "When was this child born?" and when told "Today," she said, "Give him to me," and starting with one kahāpaṇa, increasing the price, she gave a thousand and brought him to the treasurer. The treasurer thought, "If she gives birth to a daughter, I will establish him with her and make him the owner of the treasurer's position. If she gives birth to a son, I will kill him," and he had him cared for in the house.

After a few days, his wife gave birth to a son. The treasurer, thinking, "If this one is not here, my son will obtain the treasurer's position. It is fitting to kill him now," summoned Kāḷī and said, "Go, wretch, when the cattle are being released, lay him across the middle of the gate, and the cows will trample and kill him. Find out whether he has been trampled or not and then come back." She went and, as soon as the herdsman opened the gate, laid him there. The leading bull, who at other times would come out last, came out first that day and stood with the child between his four legs. Hundreds of cows rubbed against the bull's two sides as they came out. The herdsman, thinking, "This bull usually comes out last, but today he came out first and is standing motionless in the middle of the gate. What is this?" went and saw the child lying beneath him. Affection for the child arose in him, and thinking, "I have found a son," he took him home.

Kāḷī went and, when asked by the treasurer, told him what had happened. "Go, bring him back again after giving a thousand," he said, and she did so, bringing him back. Then he said to her, "Mother, Kāḷī, in this city, five hundred carts set out at dawn for trade. Take him and lay him in the path of the wheels, and either the oxen will trample him or the wheels will crush him. Find out what happens to him and then come back." She took him and laid him in the path of the wheels. Then the leading carter was in front. When his oxen reached that place, they dropped the yoke. Though urged on again and again, they did not go forward. While he was struggling with them, dawn broke. He, looking at the path, thinking, "Why are these oxen acting like this?" saw the child. Thinking, "Heavy indeed is my deed," with a delighted mind, "I have found a son," he took him home.

Kāḷī went and, when asked by the treasurer, told him what had happened. "Go, bring him back again after giving a thousand," he said, and she did so. Then he said to her, "Now, take him to the charnel ground where corpses are burned and lay him in a thicket. There he will either be eaten by dogs or other animals or struck by non-human beings and die. Find out whether he is dead or not and then come back." She took him and laid him there to one side. Neither a dog nor a crow nor a non-human being was able to approach him. "Now, does he not have a mother, nor a father, nor any relative to protect him? Who is protecting him?" Only the effect of barking with affection for the Paccekabuddha in his dog-life is protecting him. Then a goatherd, leading many thousands of goats to pasture, was passing by the charnel ground. One goat, eating leaves, entered the thicket, saw the child, knelt down, and gave the child her udder. Even when the goatherd made a sound of "Hey, hey," she did not come out. When he entered the thicket, thinking, "I will hit her with a stick and drive her out," he saw the goat kneeling and giving milk to the child. Affection for the child arose in the goatherd, and thinking, "I have found a son," he took him away.

Kāḷī went and, when asked by the treasurer, told him what had happened. "Go, bring him back again after giving a thousand," he said, and she did so. Then he said to her, "Mother Kāḷī, taking him, climb the precipice of the thieves' cliff and throw him down. Bouncing off the mountainside, he will be shattered into pieces and fall to the ground. Find out whether he is dead or not and then come back." She took him there and, standing at the top of the cliff, threw him down. However, relying on that mountainside, a great bamboo clump grew along the mountain. The top of it was covered with a dense thicket of jiñjuka creepers. The child, as he fell, landed in it like a cushion. That day was the bamboo tax day for the headman of the reed workers. He went with his son and began to cut that bamboo clump. As it moved, the child made a sound. He thought, "It sounds like a child." Climbing up one side, he saw him. With a delighted mind, thinking, "I have found a son," he took him away.

Kāḷī went to the treasurer. When asked by him, she told him what had happened. "Go, bring him back again after giving a thousand," he said, and she did so. While the treasurer was doing this and that, the child grew up. His name was simply "Ghosaka." He was like a thorn in the treasurer's eye, and he did not dare even to look directly at him. Then, while thinking of a way to kill him, he went to his friend the potter and, asking, "When will you be firing the kiln?" When told "Tomorrow," he said, "Then take this thousand and do one task for me." "What is it, master?" "I have an illegitimate son. I will send him to you. Then take him, put him inside the kiln, chop him into pieces with a sharp axe, put him in a pot, and bake him in the kiln. This thousand is like a sincere payment. Afterwards, I will do more as is fitting." The potter agreed, saying, "Good." The next day, the treasurer summoned Ghosaka and sent him, saying, "Yesterday I ordered the potter to do a task. Go to him and say, 'Fulfill the task that my father ordered yesterday.'" He went, saying, "Good." Another son of the treasurer, seeing him going there playing dice with some boys, summoned him and asked, "Where are you going, brother?" When told, "Taking my father's message to the potter," he said, "I will go there. These boys have won a lot of money from me. Give me that message so I can win it back." "I am afraid of my father." "Don't be afraid, brother, I will take the message. I have been defeated by many. I will win back my money before I come."

It is said that Ghosaka was skilled in playing marbles, so he was detained in that way. He sent him away, saying, "Then go and tell the potter, 'My father ordered me to do some work yesterday; finish it.'" He went to him and said so. Then the potter killed him according to the instructions given by the wealthy man and threw him into the kiln. Ghosaka also played for part of the day and went home in the evening and said, "Why, father, haven't you gone?" He told him the reason for his not going and the reason for his younger brother's going. Hearing that, the wealthy man cried out loudly, "I am a fool!" and, as if his whole body were covered in blood, he went to him, raising his arms and weeping, "O potter, do not destroy me, do not destroy me!" Seeing him coming like that, the potter said, "Master, do not make a noise, your work is finished." He, overwhelmed by a great sorrow like a mountain, experienced considerable grief. Just as one who harms an innocent person. Therefore, the Blessed One said:

"He who with a stick harms those who are harmless, the innocent;
Quickly reaches one of ten states.

"Severe pain, disaster, and the breaking of the body;
Or a grave illness, or derangement of mind he obtains.

"Or oppression from the king, or a terrible accusation;
Or the destruction of relatives, and the ruin of wealth.

"Or his houses are burned down by fire;
At the dissolution of the body, the unwise one goes to niraya." (dha. pa. 137-140);

Even so, the wealthy man could not look at him directly again. Thinking, "How can I kill him?" he saw a way: "I will send him to the manager in my hundred villages and have him killed." He wrote a letter to him, saying, "This is my degenerate son; kill him and throw him in the latrine pit. If this is done, I will know later what should be done for my maternal uncle." He said to him, "Son Ghosaka, there is a manager in our hundred villages; take this letter and give it to him," and he tied the letter to his garment. But he did not know how to read. From the time he was a child, the wealthy man was only trying to kill him but could not, how would he teach him to read? So, with his own death warrant tied to his garment, he went out and said, "I have no provisions, father." "You have no need of provisions; on the way, say, 'In such-and-such village there is a wealthy friend of mine; have breakfast at his house and go on.'" He bowed to his father, saying, "Good," and went out, reached that village, asked for the wealthy man's house, and saw the wealthy man's wife. When asked, "Where have you come from?" he said, "From the city." "Whose son are you?" "The son of your friend, the wealthy man, mother." "Are you Ghosaka?" "Yes, mother." As soon as she saw him, affection for him arose in her. The wealthy man had one daughter, about fifteen or sixteen years old, beautiful and pleasing, and to protect her, they had given her only one servant and had her live in a lovely chamber on the top floor of a seven-story mansion. At that moment, the wealthy man's daughter sent that servant to the market. Then the wealthy man's wife saw her and asked, "Where are you going?" and when she said, "By the order of the noble daughter," she said, "Come here for a moment, let the errand wait. Prepare a seat for my son, wash his feet, anoint him with oil, prepare a bed for him, and then you can do the errand." She did so.

Then the wealthy man's daughter scolded her for coming late. Then she said to her, "Do not be angry with me, the wealthy man's son Ghosaka has arrived, and I went there and came back after doing this and that for him." As soon as the wealthy man's daughter heard the name "the wealthy man's son Ghosaka," love pierced through skin, sinews, and stood striking the bone marrow. For at the time of her betrothal, she had been his wife and had given rice gruel to a Paccekabuddha, and by the power of that, she had come and been born in this wealthy family. Thus, that former affection overwhelmed and seized her. Therefore, the Blessed One said:

"By former association, or by present benefit;
Thus does love arise, like a lotus in the water." (jā. 1.2.174);

Then she asked, "Where is he, mother?" "He is lying in bed, sleeping." "Does he have anything in his hand?" "There is a letter in his garment." She thought, "What letter could this be?" and while he was sleeping, since his parents were occupied elsewhere and not watching, she went down and went near him, took the letter off, took it, entered her chamber, closed the door, opened the window, and, being skilled in reading, read the letter. "Alas, the fool, he goes about with his own death warrant tied to his garment; if I had not seen it, he would have no life." She tore up that letter and, according to the wealthy man's words, wrote another letter: "This is my son named Ghosaka. After bringing gifts from the hundred villages, having celebrated the marriage with the daughter of this local wealthy man, let him build a two-story house in the middle of his village and make well-arranged protection with a surrounding wall and a guard of men, and send me a message saying 'I have done such and such,' if this is done, I will know later what should be done for my maternal uncle." After writing and sealing it, she went down and tied it to his garment.

He slept for part of the day, got up, ate, and left. The next day, early in the morning, he went to that village and saw the manager doing village work. He saw him and asked, "What is it, sir?" "My father has sent you a letter." "What letter have you brought, sir?" Taking the letter and reading it, with a joyful mind he said, "Look, sirs, my master, showing affection for me, has sent me to celebrate the marriage of his eldest son." Telling the householders, "Quickly bring wood and other things," he had a house built in the middle of the village as described, had gifts brought from the hundred villages, brought the daughter from the local wealthy man's house, celebrated the marriage, and sent a message to the wealthy man, "I have done such and such."

Hearing that, a great grief arose in the wealthy man, "What I do does not happen; what I do not do, that happens." That grief, together with the sorrow for his son, together produced a burning sensation in his stomach and caused diarrhea. The wealthy man's daughter also ordered the people, "If anyone comes from the wealthy man's house, do not tell the wealthy man's son before telling me." The wealthy man also, thinking, "Now I will not make that wicked son the owner of my property," said to a manager, "Maternal uncle, I want to see my son; send a messenger to call my son." He said, "Good," and giving a letter, sent a man. The wealthy man's daughter also, hearing that he had come and was standing at the door, had him called in and asked, "What is it, sir?" He said, "The wealthy man is ill, he has sent for his son to see him, madam." "What is it, sir, is it serious or mild?" "It is serious, he is still eating food, madam." Without informing the wealthy man's son, she gave him lodging and provisions and said, "You will go when I send you, stay here for now." The wealthy man again said to the manager, "Maternal uncle, have you not sent to my son's house?" "I have sent, master, the man who went has not yet come." "Then send another one." He sent him. The wealthy man's daughter treated him in the same way. Then the wealthy man's illness became severe, one bowl goes in, one bowl comes out. Again the wealthy man asked the manager, "Maternal uncle, have you not sent to my son's house?" "I have sent, master, the man who went has not yet come." "Then send another one." He sent him. The wealthy man's daughter asked the third time also about that matter. He said, "The wealthy man is very ill, madam, having stopped eating food, he is near death, one bowl goes out, one bowl comes in." The wealthy man's daughter, thinking, "Now is the time to go," informed the wealthy man's son, "It is said that your father is ill," and when he said, "What do you say, my lady?" she said, "He is unwell, master." "What should be done now?" "Master? We will take the departure gifts from the hundred villages and go to see him." He said, "Good," had the gifts brought, loaded them on carts, and departed.

Then she said to him, "Your father is weak, there will be trouble for those who go taking so many gifts; send them back," and she sent all that to her family's house and again said to him, "Master, you should stand at your father's feet, I will stand at his head." As she entered the house, she ordered her men, "Take guards in front of and behind the house." When she entered, the wealthy man's son stood at his father's feet, the other at his head.

At that moment, the wealthy man was lying on his back. The manager, massaging his feet, said, "Your son has come, master." "Where is he?" "He is standing at his feet." Then, seeing him, he called the accountant and asked, "How much wealth is there in my house?" "Master, there are forty crores of wealth, but there is this and that amount of goods for enjoyment and use, and forests, villages, fields, biped and quadruped vehicles and conveyances." Wanting to say, "I do not give so much wealth to my son Ghosaka," he said, "I give." Hearing that, the wealthy man's daughter, thinking, "He might say something else again," scattering her hair like one distressed by grief, weeping, "Why do you say this, father? We even hear this word of yours; we are unlucky," striking him in the middle of the chest with her head, she fell down and showed lamentation, pressing his chest with her head so that he could not speak again. The wealthy man died at that very moment. They went and reported to King Udena, "The wealthy man is dead." The king had the funeral performed and asked, "Does he have a son or a daughter?" "He has a son named Ghosaka, lord. He died after handing over all his property to him, lord."

Later, the king summoned the wealthy man's son. On that day, it rained, and water gathered here and there in the royal courtyard. The wealthy man's son thought, "I will see the king," and set out. The king, opening a window, watched him approach, and seeing him wading through the water in the royal courtyard, and then coming, paying homage, and standing there, asked, "Are you named Ghosaka, sir?" When he replied, "Yes, your majesty," the king consoled him, saying, "Do not grieve that my father is dead; I will give your ancestral position of setthi to you alone." Then, dismissing him with "Go, sir," the king stood watching him leave. The water that he had waded through on his arrival had subsided by the time of his departure, and he walked slowly. Then the king summoned him again from there and asked, "Why, sir, did you wade through the water when coming to me, but walk slowly through it on your departure?" "Yes, your majesty, at that time I was a boy, a time for play, but now a higher position has been promised to me by your majesty. Therefore, instead of acting as before, it is fitting to act with restraint now." Hearing this, the king thought, "This man has wisdom; I will give him the position now," and giving him the wealth enjoyed by his father, he bestowed upon him the position of setthi with all honors.

He, standing in a chariot, circumambulated the city. The places he looked upon trembled. The setthi's daughter, sitting and conversing with Kāḷidāsī, said, "Mother Kāḷi, so much wealth has arisen for your son because of me." "How so, mother?" "Because he came to our house with a death warrant tied to his forehead, and then I tore up that warrant and wrote another warrant for him to be married to me, and I have protected him there for so long." "Mother, you see so much, but this setthi, from his youth, has wanted to kill him but could not, and only wasted much wealth because of him." "Mother, the setthi has done a very weighty thing indeed!" Seeing him entering the house after circumambulating the city, she smiled, "So much wealth has arisen because of me." Then the setthi's son, seeing her, asked, "Why did you smile?" "Because of one reason." "Tell me, then!" "She did not tell." He, threatening her, "If you do not tell, I will cut you in two," drew his sword. She said, "I smiled thinking that so much wealth was obtained by you because of me." "If my father has bequeathed his possessions to me, what is your part in it?" He knew nothing of this for so long, and therefore did not believe her words. Then she told him everything, "Your father sent a death warrant, and you were protected by me doing this and that." Not believing her, thinking, "You are telling untruths; I will ask my mother Kāḷi," he said, "Is it so, mother?" "Yes, son, wanting to kill you from your youth, he could not and wasted much wealth because of you; in seven instances you were freed from death, and now, coming from Bhogagāma, you have attained the position of setthi with all honors." Hearing that, he thought, "A weighty deed indeed! It is not fitting for me to live a life of heedlessness, having been freed from such deaths; I will be heedful," and disbursing a thousand [coins] daily, he established alms for the poor and travelers. A family member named Mitto was in charge of the alms. This is the origin of Ghosaka Setthi.

At that time, in the city of Bhaddavatī, there was a setthi named Bhaddavatiya, an unacquainted friend of Ghosaka Setthi. Having heard of the wealth and age of Bhaddavatiya Setthi from merchants who had come from Bhaddavatī, Ghosaka Setthi, desiring friendship with him, sent gifts. Bhaddavatiya Setthi too, having heard of the wealth and age of Ghosaka Setthi from merchants who had come from Kosambī, desiring friendship with him, sent gifts. Thus, they lived as unacquainted friends to each other. Later, a pestilential disease fell upon the house of Bhaddavatiya Setthi. When it fell, first the flies died, then successively insects, mice, chickens, pigs, cows, female slaves, male slaves, and lastly even the householders died. Those who broke through the wall and fled gained life, and then the setthi, his wife, and his daughter, fleeing in that way, desiring to see Ghosaka Setthi, set out on the road to Kosambī. Exhausted of provisions on the journey, and with their bodies wearied by wind and sun, and by hunger and thirst, they reached Kosambī with difficulty, and staying at a place suitable for water, having bathed, they entered a certain hall at the city gate.

Then the setthi said to his wife, "Good lady, even relatives are displeased with those who go about in this condition; it is said that my friend disburses a thousand [coins] daily for alms to the poor and travelers. Send the daughter there, have her bring food, and having refreshed ourselves here for a day or two, we will see my friend." She said, "Very well, husband." They stayed in the hall itself. On the following day, when the time was announced, as the poor and travelers were going for food, the parents sent their daughter, "Go, dear, and bring food for us." The daughter of a very wealthy family, unabashed, because her modesty was destroyed by the misfortune, taking a bowl, went with the poor people for food, and when asked, "How many portions will you take, mother?" she said, "Three." Then they gave her three portions. When the rice was brought by her, all three sat down to eat together.

Then the mother and daughter said to the setthi, "Husband, misfortune befalls even great families; do not look at us while eating, do not think." Thus, having entreated him in various ways, they fed him. He, unable to digest the food, died at sunrise. The mother and daughter lamented and wept in various ways. On the following day, the maiden, weeping, went for food, and when asked, "How many portions will you take?" she said, "Two," and having brought the food, she fed her mother, entreating her. She too, being entreated by her, ate, but unable to digest the food, died on that very day. The maiden, alone, weeping and lamenting, exceedingly afflicted by the hunger arising from that misery, on the following day, weeping with the beggars, went for food, and when asked, "How many portions will you take, mother?" she said, "One." The family member Mitto recognized her as having taken food for three days, and therefore said to her, "Away, wretch, be gone! Today you have understood the measure of your belly!" The family daughter, endowed with shame and fear [of wrongdoing], felt as if struck by a weapon at her chest, or as if corrosive liquid were poured on a wound, and said, "What is it, sir?" "Previously three portions were taken by you, yesterday two, today you take one. Today the measure of your own belly is known to you!" "Do not think of me, sir, that I take only for my own sake." "Then why do you take like this?" "Previously we were three people, sir, yesterday two, today I alone remain." He, asking "Why is that?" and hearing the whole story from the beginning as told by her, unable to restrain his tears, being overwhelmed with strong sorrow, said, "Mother, since that is so, do not worry; you are the daughter of Bhaddavatiya Setthi, from today you are my daughter," and kissing her on the head, he took her home and placed her in the position of his eldest daughter.

She became known as Sāmāvatī. From then on, the noise at the alms-hall ceased. Ghosaka Setthi, previously delighted when hearing that sound, thinking, "It is the sound at my alms-hall," but not hearing the sound for two or three days, asked the family member Mitto, who had come to attend on him, "Is alms being given to the poor and travelers?" "Yes, sir." "Then why has the sound not been heard for two or three days?" "I have made an arrangement so that they take quietly." "Then why was it not done before?" "Because of not knowing, sir." "How did you know now?" "It was told to me by my daughter, sir." "Oh! You have a daughter whom I do not know?" He recounted all of Bhaddavatiya Setthi's story from the beginning of the pestilential disease and announced that she had been placed in the position of his eldest daughter. Then the setthi, "Since that is so, why did you not tell me? The daughter of my friend is my daughter," summoning her, asked, "Are you the daughter of the setthi, dear?" "Yes, father." "Then do not worry, you are my daughter," kissing her on the head, giving her five hundred women for retinue, he placed her in the position of his eldest daughter.

Then one day, a festival was proclaimed in that city. On that festival day, even the daughters of respectable families, who do not go out, go on foot with their retinue to the river to bathe. Therefore, on that day Sāmāvatī too, surrounded by five hundred women, went to bathe by the royal courtyard. Udena, standing in the lion's cage, seeing her, asked, "Whose dancing girls are these?" "They are not anyone's dancing girls, your majesty." "Then whose daughters are they?" "They are the daughters of Ghosaka Setthi, your majesty; her name is Sāmāvatī." He, affection arising as soon as he saw her, sent a message to the setthi: "Let her send her daughter to me." "I will not send her, your majesty." "Let him not do so; he must send her." "We householders do not give away maidens for fear of them being struck, harmed, and dragged away, your majesty." The king, becoming angry, had the house sealed and had the setthi and his wife taken out by the hand. Sāmāvatī, having bathed, returning and not getting a chance to enter the house, asked, "What is this, father?" "Dear, the king sent [a message] because of you. Then, when it was said, 'We will not give her,' he had the house sealed and had us taken out." "Father, you have done a weighty deed! When [the king] sent [a message], instead of saying 'We will not give her,' it should have been said, 'If you take my daughter with her retinue, we will give her,' father." "Very well, dear, if it is pleasing to you, I will do so." He sent a message to the king accordingly. The king, approving with "Very well," having her brought with her retinue, consecrated her and placed her in the position of chief consort. The remaining women were her retinue. This is the origin of Sāmāvatī.

Furthermore, Utena had another queen named Vāsuladattā, who was the daughter of Caṇḍapajjota. In Ujjeni, there was a king named Caṇḍapajjota. One day, while returning from the garden, he surveyed his wealth and asked, "Does anyone else have such wealth?" Upon hearing this, people said, "What is this wealth? King Utena in Kosambi has exceedingly great wealth." The king asked, "Then shall we seize it?" "It is not possible to seize him." "By any means, we will seize him?" "It is not possible, your Majesty." "What is the reason?" "He knows a skill called hatthikanta; by reciting a mantra and playing the hatthikanta lute, he can drive away or capture even nāgas. There is no one comparable to him in possessing skill in riding elephants." "It is not possible for me to seize him?" "If this is truly your firm decision, your Majesty, then have a wooden elephant made and send it to a place near his territory. He goes even far away upon hearing of an elephant or horse ride. It will be possible to capture him when he comes there."

The king, thinking, "This is a good plan," had a wooden mechanical elephant made, covered it with outer cloths, and had artwork done on it. He then had it released near his territory on the bank of a lake. Inside the elephant's belly, sixty men walked back and forth, gathering elephant dung and scattering it here and there. A forest ranger, seeing the elephant, thought, "It is worthy of our king," and went and informed the king, "Your Majesty, I have seen a magnificent elephant, completely white, resembling Mount Kailāsa, worthy only of you." Utena, making him the guide, mounted the elephant and set out with his retinue. Learning of his arrival, spies went and informed Caṇḍapajjota. He, making the middle empty, deployed a force on both sides. Utena, unaware of his arrival, followed the elephant. The men inside caused it to run quickly. The wooden elephant, as if not hearing the sound of the lute strings when the king recited the mantra and played the vīṇa, simply kept running away. Unable to reach the elephant, the king mounted a horse and pursued it. As he pursued swiftly, the forces fell behind. The king was left alone. Then, men of Caṇḍapajjota, deployed on both sides, captured him and presented him to their king. Then, knowing that his army had fallen into enemy hands, he established a camp outside the city and stayed there.

Caṇḍapajjota also had Utena captured alive and locked him in a robber’s house, having the door shut and celebrating the victory for three days. On the third day, Utena asked the guard, "Where is your king, friend?" "He is celebrating victory, saying, 'I have captured an enemy king.'" "What kind of behavior is this for your king, like that of a woman? Is it not proper to release or kill captured enemy kings? He celebrates victory, having us sit in misery." They went and reported this matter to the king. He came and asked, "Is it true that you speak thus?" "Yes, your Majesty." "Good, I will release you. It seems you have such a mantra; will you give it to me?" "I will gladly give it, but you must bow to me at the time of receiving it. But will you bow?" "Why would I bow to you? I will not bow." "Then I will not give it to you." "If that is the case, I will make you my slave." "Do so; you are master of my body, but not of my mind." Hearing his lion’s roar, the king, thinking, "How will I obtain this mantra?" thought, "It is not possible to teach this mantra to another; I will have my daughter learn it from him, and then I will learn it from her." Then he said to him, "Will you give it to someone else who bows to receive it?" "Yes, your Majesty." "Then in our house, there is a hunchback; have her sit inside the alcove and bow, and you, standing outside the alcove, recite the mantra." "Good, your Majesty, be it a hunchback or a stool-maker, I will give it to whoever bows." Then the king went to his daughter, Vāsuladattā, and said, "Dear, there is a leper who knows an invaluable mantra; it is not possible to teach it to another. You sit inside the alcove and bow to him to receive the mantra; he will stand outside the alcove and recite it to you. I will learn it from you."

Thus, fearing that they would become intimate with each other, he referred to his daughter as a hunchback and the other as a leper. As she sat inside the alcove and bowed, he stood outside and recited the mantra. Then, one day, as she was repeatedly unable to recite a mantra syllable, he said, "Hey hunchback, your mouth has thick lips and cheeks; say it like this!" Annoyed, she said, "Hey wicked leper, what are you saying? Are there hunchbacks like me?" Lifting the edge of the alcove, when asked, "Who are you?" she said, "I am Vāsuladattā, the king's daughter." "When your father told me about you, he called you a hunchback." "When he told me about you, he called you a leper." Both of them thought, "Then it must have been said to prevent us from becoming intimate," and they became intimate right there in the alcove.

From then on, there was no learning of mantras or skills. The king always asked his daughter, "Do you learn the skill, dear?" "I learn it, father." Then one day, Utena said to her, "Fair lady, what a husband should do, neither parents nor siblings can do. If you give me my life, I will give you five hundred women as attendants and the position of chief queen." "If you can stand by this promise, I will give you your life." "I will, fair lady." She said, "Good, my lord," and went to her father, paid homage, and stood to one side. Then he asked her, "Is the skill finished, dear?" "Not yet finished, father." Then he asked her, "What is it, dear?" "We should get a door and a vehicle, father." "What is this, dear?" "Father, at night, it seems, to treat the mantra using the stars, a certain medicine must be obtained. Therefore, we should have a door and a vehicle to go out, whether at the right time or the wrong time." The king agreed, saying, "Good." They obtained a door according to their liking. The king had five vehicles. Bhaddavatī, a female elephant, could travel fifty yojanas in a day; Kāko, a slave, could travel sixty yojanas; Celakaṭṭhi and Muñcakesī, two horses, could travel a hundred yojanas; and Nāḷāgiri, an elephant, could travel two hundred yojanas.

It is said that in the time before the arising of a Buddha, this king was an attendant of a recluse. Then one day, as the recluse was going outside the city to bathe and returning, a Paccekabuddha entered the city for alms, but because the entire city’s inhabitants were possessed by Māra, he could not obtain even a single morsel of food and left with his bowl still wet from washing. As he reached the city gate, Māra, disguised in an unknown form, approached him and asked, "Venerable sir, did you obtain anything?" "Why did you make it impossible for me to obtain anything?" "Then turn back and enter again; I will not do it now." "I will not turn back again." If he had turned back, Māra would have again possessed the bodies of all the city's inhabitants and clapped his hands and played and laughed. When the Paccekabuddha did not turn back and had left, Māra disappeared right there. Then that recluse, seeing the Paccekabuddha coming with his bowl still wet from washing, paid homage and asked, "Venerable sir, did you obtain anything?" "I have just finished my alms round, friend." He thought, "The venerable one is not telling me what I asked but saying something else; he must not have obtained anything." Then, looking at his bowl and seeing it empty, not knowing whether the food in his house was ready or not, and being ashamed to take the bowl, he said, "Venerable sir, please wait a little," and quickly went home and asked, "Is our meal ready?" When told, "It is ready," he said to the attendant, "Friend, there is no one faster than you; quickly go to the venerable one, say, 'Give me the bowl, venerable sir,' take the bowl, and come quickly." He swiftly went and took the bowl and brought it back. The recluse, filling his own food bowl, said, "Quickly go and give this to the venerable one; I will give you merit from this."

He took it and quickly went and gave the bowl to the Paccekabuddha and paid homage with fivefold prostration, saying, "Venerable sir, because it is near mealtime, I have come and gone with great speed; as a result of this speed, may five vehicles arise capable of traveling fifty, sixty, one hundred, and two hundred yojanas, and as I come and go, may the heat of the sun scorch my body; as a result of this, may an order like the heat of the sun arise in the places where they arise and cease, and in this alms-food, merit has been given by the master; by the outflow of that, may you share in the Dhamma seen by me." The Paccekabuddha, saying, "May it be so," said –

"May your desired aim be fulfilled entirely;
May all your intentions be fulfilled, like the moon on the fifteenth day. (dī. ni. aṭṭha. 2.95 pubbūpanissayasampattikathā; a. ni. aṭṭha. 1.1. 192);

"May your desired aim be quickly fulfilled;
May all your intentions be fulfilled, like a jewel's radiant light." –

radiant light refers to the jewel that grants all desires. This is his past conduct. He is now Caṇḍapajjota. As an outflow of that karma, these five vehicles arose. Then one day, the king went out for pleasure in the garden. Utena, thinking, "Today, I must escape," filled very large leather bags with silver and gold, placed them on the female elephant's back, and fled, taking Vāsuladattā with him. The palace guards, seeing him fleeing, went and informed the king. The king sent a force, saying, "Go quickly!" Utena, knowing that the force was pursuing, untied a bag of coins and dropped it; the people picked up the coins and pursued again. He then untied a bag of gold and dropped it. While they were delaying due to their greed for gold, he reached his own camp outside the city. Then, seeing him coming, his army surrounded him and led him into the city. Having arrived, he consecrated Vāsuladattā and placed her in the position of chief queen. This is the origin of Vāsuladattā.

Then another woman named Māgaṇḍiyā obtained the position of chief queen in the king's court. It seems she was the daughter of Māgaṇḍiya the Brahmin in the Kuru country. Her mother's name was also Māgaṇḍiyā. Her paternal aunt was also named Māgaṇḍiyā. She was beautiful, with the radiance of a celestial nymph. Her father, unable to find a suitable husband for her, rejected proposals from very great families, saying, "You are not suitable for my daughter," and sent them away. Then one day, the Teacher, at dawn, surveying the world, saw the potential for Anāgāmi fruition in Māgaṇḍiya the Brahmin and his wife. Taking his bowl and robe, he went to their fire-tending place outside the village. The Brahmin, beholding the Tathāgata's form adorned with beauty, thought, "In this world, there is no other man like this one. He is suitable for my daughter; I will give my daughter to him to support." So he said, "Reverend, I have a daughter, and for a long time, I have not seen a man suitable for her. You are suitable for her, and she is suitable for you. It is fitting for her to attend to your feet and for you to be her husband. I will give her to you. Stay here until I return." The Teacher remained silent, saying nothing. The Brahmin quickly went home and said, "Madam, a man suitable for my daughter has been found. Quickly, quickly, adorn her!" Having adorned her, he took her with his wife and went to the Teacher. The whole city was in turmoil. They said, "For so long, he gave his daughter to no one, saying, 'There is no one suitable for my daughter.' Today, he says, 'A man suitable for my daughter has been found.' What kind of man is he? Let us see." A great crowd went out with him.

As he was coming with his daughter, the Teacher, not standing where he had spoken, but showing a footprint-shrine there, went and stood in another place. For the footprint-shrine of the Buddhas appears only in the place where it was intentionally placed, not elsewhere. And only those for whom it was intended see it. But to prevent them from seeing it, even if elephants or other animals step on it, or a great cloud pours rain, or violent winds blow, no one can erase it. Then the Brahmin's wife said to the Brahmin, "Where is that man?" He said, "I told him, 'Stay in this place.' Where has he gone?" Looking here and there, he saw the footprint-shrine and said, "This is his footprint." The Brahmin's wife, skilled in the three Vedas with their signs, examined the characteristics and, considering the footprint's characteristics, said, "This is not the footprint of one who enjoys the five strands of sense pleasure," and spoke this verse:

"The footprint of the passionate is turned inward,
Of the hateful, it is suddenly pressed down;
Of the deluded, the footprint is dragged,
This is such a footprint of one with an open mind." (a. ni. aṭṭha. 1.1.260-261; visuddhi. 1.45);

Then the Brahmin said to her, "Madam, you are accustomed to seeing omens like a crocodile in a water pot or a thief in the middle of the house. Be quiet!" Brahmin, say what you wish; this is not the footprint of one who enjoys the five strands of sense pleasure. Then, looking here and there, seeing the Teacher, the Brahmin went and said, "Reverend, I give you my daughter to support." The Teacher, without saying whether he needed his daughter or not, said, "Brahmin, I will tell you a reason." When he said, "Tell it, Reverend," he related from the Great Renunciation up to being followed by Māra at the foot of the Ajapāla banyan tree, and at the foot of the Ajapāla banyan tree, the allurement offered by Māra's daughters who had come in the guise of maidens to calm the sorrow of that sorrowful one, saying, "Even then, I had no desire," he spoke this verse:

"Having seen craving, discontent, and passion,
I had no desire even for intercourse;
Why this filled with urine and excrement?
I would not wish to touch it even with my foot." (a. ni. aṭṭha. 1.1.260-261; su. ni. 841) –

At the end of the verse, the Brahmin and his wife were established in Anāgāmi fruition. But Māgaṇḍiyā also thought, "If I am of no use to him, it should be said that I am of no use. But he considers me full of urine and excrement; he would not wish to touch me even with his foot. Let it be. Having obtained a husband of such a kind, according to my own birth, family, country, wealth, fame, age, and fortune, I will know what should be done to the ascetic Gotama." She harbored hatred towards the Teacher. "Does the Teacher know that hatred has arisen in her? Yes, he knows. Knowing, why did he speak the verse?" For the sake of the other two. For the Buddhas, without considering hatred, teach the Dhamma for the attainment of the path and fruition. Her parents took her younger sister, Cūḷamāgaṇḍiya, had her ordained, and attained Arahatship. Cūḷamāgaṇḍiya also thought, "My daughter is not suitable for an inferior man; she is suitable only for a king." Taking her, she went to Kosambī, adorned her with all ornaments, and said, "This jewel of a woman is suitable for the king," and gave her to King Udena. Seeing her, he developed a strong affection, had her consecrated, gave her a retinue of five hundred women, and established her in the position of chief queen. This is the origin of Māgaṇḍiyā.

Thus, he had three chief queens with a retinue of fifteen hundred dancing women. At that time, Ghosaka the treasurer, Kukkuṭa the treasurer, and Pāvārika the treasurer were three wealthy men in Kosambī. Seeing five hundred ascetics who had come from the Himalayas approaching the city for the rains-residence, they were pleased, had them sit down, fed them, took a promise, had them stay in their residences for four months, and sent them away, promising to come again after the rains. From then on, the ascetics stayed in the Himalayas for eight months and stayed in their residences for four months. As they were coming from the Himalayas at the end of the rains, they saw a large banyan tree in a forest hermitage and sat down at its base. The senior ascetic among them thought, "The deity dwelling in this tree will not be of small power; it must be a powerful Devarāja. It would be good if he would give water to this group of ascetics." He gave them water. The ascetic thought of bathing water; he gave that too. Then he thought of food; he gave that too. Then it occurred to him, "This Devarāja gives everything we think of. Oh, if only we could see him!" He split the trunk of the tree and showed himself. Then the ascetics asked him, "Devarāja, great is your wealth. Having done what was this obtained?" "Do not ask, venerable ones." "Tell us, Devarāja." Ashamed because of the smallness of the deed he had done, he dared not speak. But being pressed again and again by them, he said, "Then listen."

He, it seems, was a poor man who, seeking employment, obtained work as a servant in the house of Anāthapiṇḍika and made a living dependent on him. Then, when an Uposatha day arrived, Anāthapiṇḍika came from the monastery and asked, "Has the fact that today is Uposatha day been told to that servant?" "It has not been told, master." "Then cook evening meat for him." Then they cooked parched rice for him. He, having done work in the forest during the day, came in the evening, and when the food was served, without immediately eating because he was hungry, he thought, "On other days, in this house, there was a great commotion, saying, 'Give food, give soup, give curry.' Today, they are all lying down silently, and they have served food only to me. What is this?" He asked, "Did the others eat or not?" "They did not eat, father." "What is the reason?" "In this house, they do not eat evening meat on Uposatha days; everyone observes the Uposatha. Even nursing infants have their mouths rinsed, and after placing the four sweets in their mouths, the great treasurer makes them observe the Uposatha. While lamps of scented oil are burning, young and old children lying in bed recite the thirty-two parts of the body. We did not remember to tell you that today is Uposatha day. Therefore, food has been cooked only for you; eat it." If it is now proper to observe the Uposatha, I too will observe it. "Does the treasurer know this?" "Then ask him." They went and asked the treasurer. He said, "Now, if he rinses his mouth without eating and undertakes the Uposatha vows, he will obtain half the Uposatha deed." Hearing that, he did so.

Having done work all day, the winds in his body were disturbed because he was hungry. Binding his chest with a rope, he turned over, holding the end of the rope. Hearing of that event, the treasurer, having grasped the four sweets with torches being carried, came to him and asked, "What is it, father?" "Master, my winds are disturbed." "Then get up and eat this medicine." "You too eat, master." "We have no discomfort; you eat." "Master, while doing the Uposatha deed, I was not able to do it completely; may even my half-deed not be incomplete." Even though he was being told, "Do not do this, father," unwilling, as the dawn rose, like a withered garland, he died and was reborn as a deity in that banyan tree. Therefore, after telling this matter, he said, "That treasurer is a devotee of the Buddha, a devotee of the Dhamma, a devotee of the Sangha. This wealth has been obtained by me as a result of the merit of the half-Uposatha deed performed dependent on him."

Just hearing the word "Buddha," the five hundred ascetics rose, raised their joined palms to the deity, and asked, "Do you say 'Buddha'? Do you say 'Buddha'?" Having made him affirm three times, "I say 'Buddha,' I say 'Buddha,'" they exclaimed, "Even this sound is rare in the world!" and said, "Deity, you have made us hear a sound never heard in hundreds of thousands of eons." Then the pupils said to the teacher, "Then let us go to the Teacher." "Fathers, the three treasurers have been very helpful to us. Tomorrow, having collected alms in their residences, we will tell them too and go. Endure, fathers." They endured. The next day, the treasurers, having prepared rice gruel and cooked rice and arranged seats, knowing, "Today is the day the venerable ones will come," welcomed them and, taking them into the residence, had them sit down and gave them alms. Having finished their meal, the great treasurers said, "We will go." "Venerable ones, have you not taken a promise from us for four rainy months? Where are you going now?" "It is said that a Buddha has arisen in the world, the Dhamma has arisen, the Sangha has arisen. Therefore, we will go to the Teacher." "Is it proper for only you to go to that Teacher?" "It is not forbidden to others, friend." "Then, venerable ones, wait; having made preparations for going, we too will go." "While you are making preparations, we will have complications. We will go ahead; you may come later," they said, and going ahead, seeing the Sammāsambuddha, praised him, venerated him, and sat down to one side. Then the Teacher, teaching the Dhamma in gradual order, preached the Dhamma to them. At the end of the discourse, all of them, together with analytical knowledges, attained Arahatship, and immediately after requesting ordination with the words "Come, monks," they became ehi-bhikkhus, possessing bowls and robes created by their own merit.

Then the king would spend a week at a time, turn by turn, at the palace of Sāmāvatī, Vāsuladattā, and Māgaṇḍiyā. Then, knowing that "tomorrow or the day after tomorrow he will go to Sāmāvatī’s palace," Māgaṇḍiyā sent a message to Cūḷapitu: "Having washed a tooth with poison, send a snake." He did so and sent it. The king would always go to the place he intended, carrying a mango-wood lute, which had a hole in its sound box. Māgaṇḍiyā inserted the snake through that hole and plugged it with a flower. The snake remained inside the lute for two or three days. On the day the king was to go, Māgaṇḍiyā asked, "To whose palace will you go today, O King?" When he said, "To Sāmāvatī’s," she said, "Today, O Great King, I had an unpleasant dream. It is not fitting to go there, O King." "We shall go anyway." Even as she tried to dissuade him for a third time, she said, "In that case, I too will go with you, O King," and though being turned away, she would not turn back, saying, "I do not know what will happen, O King," she went along with the king.

The king, wearing clothes, flowers, perfumes, and ornaments given by Sāmāvatī and her retinue, ate fine food and lay down on the bed, placing the lute at his head. Māgaṇḍiyā, as if wandering back and forth, removed the flower plug from the lute's hole. The snake, having been without food for two or three days, came out through that hole, hissing and raising its hood, and lay on the bed. Seeing it, Māgaṇḍiyā cried out loudly, "Fie, fie, O King, a snake!" and, scolding both the king and them, said, "This blind, foolish, unlucky king does not listen to my words, and these shameless, ill-mannered women—what do they not get from the king? What, will you live happily only when he is dead, and live miserably while he lives? Though I dissuaded you, saying, ‘Today I had a bad dream; it is not fitting to go to Sāmāvatī’s palace,’ you do not listen to my words, O King." Seeing the snake, terrified by the fear of death, the king thought, "Could they do even such a thing as this! Alas, evil ones! Though she revealed the evil nature of these women, I did not believe her words. First, they sat in holes made in their wombs, then they sent back the rooster I had sent, and today they have released a snake into the bed!" He was blazing with anger.

Sāmāvatī also gave advice to the five hundred women: "Mothers, we have no other refuge. Extend a mind of loving-kindness equally to the king, the queen, and yourselves. Do not be angry with anyone." The king, taking his thousand-powered horn bow, struck the string, fitted a poisoned arrow, aimed at Sāmāvatī, and made them all stand in a row, shooting the arrow at Sāmāvatī’s chest. Through the power of her mettā, it turned back, heading the way it came, and stood as if about to enter the king’s heart. The king thought, "The arrow I shot goes through even rock, there is nothing to stop it in the sky, but this arrow has turned back and is facing my heart. Even this powerless, lifeless arrow knows her virtue, but I, being human, do not know it!" So he threw away the bow, raised his hands in añjali, sat on his heels at Sāmāvatī’s feet, and spoke this verse:

"I am bewildered, I am confused, all directions are confused for me;
Sāmāvati, protect me, be my refuge."

Hearing his words, she did not say, "Good, O King, go to me for refuge," but saying, "To whom I have gone for refuge, to Him you also go for refuge," Sāmāvatī, a female disciple of the Perfectly Enlightened Buddha, said:

"Do not go to me for refuge, to whom I have gone for refuge;
That Buddha, O Great King, that Buddha is unsurpassed;
Go for refuge to that Buddha, and may He be a refuge for me."

Hearing her words, the king, saying, "Now I am even more afraid," spoke this verse:

"I am even more bewildered, all directions are confused for me;
Sāmāvati, protect me, be my refuge."

Then she rejected him again in the same way as before, and when he said, "In that case, you also go for refuge, and I will give you a boon," she said, "Let the boon be taken, O Great King." Going to the Teacher, taking refuge, inviting Him, giving a great donation to the Sangha headed by the Buddha for a week, he addressed Sāmāvatī and said, "Arise, take a boon." "Great King, I have no need for silver and gold, but give me this boon, do it so that the Teacher comes here constantly with five hundred monks, that we may hear the Dhamma." The king, having paid homage to the Teacher, said, "Venerable Sir, may you come here constantly with five hundred monks, Sāmāvatī and her retinue say, ‘We will listen to the Dhamma.’" "Great King, it is not fitting for Buddhas to go constantly to one place, the people will be waiting for the Teacher to come." "Then, Venerable Sir, order a monk." The Teacher ordered Ānanda Thera. From then on, he would go to the royal palace constantly with five hundred monks. Those queens would constantly feed the Thera and his retinue and listen to the Dhamma. One day, having been pleased by hearing the Thera's Dhamma talk, they made a Dhamma offering with five hundred upper robes. Each upper robe was worth five hundred [kahāpaṇa].

Seeing them in single garments, the king asked, "Where are your upper robes?" "They were given to the Venerable One." "Were they all taken?" "Yes, they were taken." The king, approaching the Thera, paying homage, asked about the giving of the upper robes by them, and hearing that they had given them and the Thera had taken them, asked, "But, Venerable Sir, these are very many cloths, what will you do with so many?" "Having taken the cloths sufficient for us, Great King, I will give the rest to the monks who have worn-out robes." "What will they do with their own worn-out robes?" "They will give them to those who have more worn-out robes." "What will they do with their own more worn-out robes?" "They will make them into sitting cloths." "What will they do with the old sitting cloths?" "They will make them into floor coverings." "What will they do with the old floor coverings?" "They will make them into foot-wipers, Great King." "What will they do with the old foot-wipers?" "Having cut them into small pieces, mixed them with clay, they will plaster the walls." "Venerable Sir, having done so much, are the gifts given to the Venerable Ones not lost?" "Yes, Great King." Pleased, the king had another five hundred cloths brought and placed at the Thera's feet. It is said that the Thera, having placed at his feet the cloths worth five hundred, divided into five hundred parts, received the gifts five hundred times; having placed at his feet the cloths worth a thousand, divided into a thousand parts, received the gifts a thousand times; having placed at his feet the cloths worth a hundred thousand, divided into a hundred thousand parts, received the gifts a hundred thousand times. But there was no counting of those received in the manner of one, two, three, four, five, ten, and so on. It is said that when the Tathāgata had passed away, the Thera, traveling throughout Jambudīpa, gave his own bowls and robes to the monks in all the monasteries.

Then Māgaṇḍiyā, thinking, "Whatever I do, it does not happen as I intend, but otherwise, what shall I do now?" thinking "there is a way," sent a message to Cūḷapitu when the king was going to the pleasure garden: "Go to Sāmāvatī’s palace, open the storehouses of cloth and the storehouses of oil, soak the cloths in the oil jars, wrap them around the pillars, gather them all together, close the door, lock it from the outside, light the building with torches, and come down and go." He ascended the palace, opened the storehouses, and began to soak the cloths in the oil jars and wrap them around the pillars. Then the women headed by Sāmāvatī approached him, saying, "What is this, Cūḷapitu?" "Mothers, the king is wrapping these pillars with oil-soaked rags for reinforcement. In the royal household, what is well done and ill done is hard to know. Do not be near me, mothers," he said, and having led those who came into the chambers, closed the doors, locked them from the outside, and starting from the beginning, set fire and came down. Sāmāvatī gave advice to them: "For us wandering in this beginningless saṃsāra, even the Buddha’s knowledge cannot easily determine the limit of existences burned by fire in just this way. Be heedful." While the building was burning, focusing their minds on the contemplation of grasping of feeling, some attained the second fruit, some the third fruit. Therefore it was said: "Then several monks, after the meal, returning from alms round, approached the Blessed One, and having approached, paid homage to the Blessed One and sat down to one side. Sitting to one side, those monks said this to the Blessed One: ‘Here, Venerable Sir, when King Udena had gone to the pleasure garden, his inner quarters burned down, and five hundred women headed by Sāmāvatī died. What, Venerable Sir, is the destiny, what is the destination of those female lay followers?’ ‘Some of those female lay followers, monks, were stream-enterers, some were once-returners, some were non-returners, all those female lay followers, monks, died not without fruit.’" Then, the Blessed One, knowing this matter, at that time uttered this utterance:

"The world is bound by delusion, it appears like a bubble;
The fool is bound by attachments, surrounded by darkness;
It seems permanent, but when seen, there is nothing at all." (udā. 70);

And saying this, "Monks, beings wandering in the cycle constantly, being heedless, not only do not do meritorious deeds, but also do evil deeds. Therefore, wandering in the cycle, they experience both happiness and suffering," he taught the Dhamma.

The king, hearing that "Sāmāvatī's house is burning," came with speed but could not arrive before it was completely destroyed. Upon arriving and extinguishing the house, with great sorrow arisen, surrounded by his ministers, recalling Sāmāvatī's virtues, he thought, "Whose deed could this be?" Knowing it would be Māgaṇḍiyā's doing, he thought, "If questioned harshly, she will not confess; I will question her gently, by means of a trick." So he said to his ministers, "Friends, before this, I was always rising and going, anxious and fearful; Sāmāvatī always sought an opportunity against me. Now, however, my heart will be at peace, and I will be able to live happily." They asked, "By whom, O King, was this done?" "It must have been done by someone out of affection for me." Māgaṇḍiyā, standing nearby, hearing this, said, "No one else could do it; I did it, O King. I ordered my step-father to do it." "There is no one else who has such affection and loyalty for me except you. I am pleased; I grant you a boon. Summon your relatives." She sent a message to her relatives, "The king is pleased with me and grants me a boon; come quickly." The king showed great honor to those who arrived. Seeing this, even strangers gave bribes and came, saying, "We are relatives of Māgaṇḍiyā." The king had them all seized, had pits dug in the royal courtyard up to their navels, made them sit there, filled the pits with dust, scattered straw on top, and set it on fire. When their skin was burnt, he had it plowed with a plough, tearing them to pieces. From Māgaṇḍiyā's body, with a sharp sword, he tore off flesh in dense places, put a pan of oil on the fire, cooked it like a pancake, and made her eat it herself.

In the Dhamma assembly, the monks started a discussion: "How inappropriate is such a death for such a faithful female devotee!" The Teacher came and asked, "With what discussion are you gathered here now, monks?" When they said, "About this one," the Teacher said, "Monks, in this existence, such a misfortune is not fitting for Sāmāvatī and the other women. However, what they have received is fitting according to the karma they did in the past." When asked by them, "What did they do in the past, O Lord? Tell us," he related the past:

In the past, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Bārāṇasī, eight Paccekabuddhas regularly took their meals in the royal palace. Five hundred women attended to them. Seven of those Paccekabuddhas went to the Himalayas. One Paccekabuddha, there was a dense clump of grass on the bank of a river, sat there having attained jhāna. Then one day, when the king had gone to the river with those women to play water sports after the Paccekabuddhas had left, after playing in the water for a portion of the day, the women came up, wanting to make a fire because they were cold, searching here and there, "Look for a place to make a fire," they saw that clump of grass, thinking, "It's a pile of grass," they stood around it and set it on fire. Seeing the Paccekabuddha as the grass was burning and falling, "We are ruined! A Paccekabuddha of our king is burning. The king will find out and destroy us. Let's burn him thoroughly," all those women brought wood from here and there and made a pile of wood on top of him. There was a large pile of wood. Then, covering it up, "Now he will burn," they left. At first, they were not bound by karma because they were not intentional, but now they were bound by karma because of their subsequent intention. However, even with a thousand cartloads of wood brought and piled upon the Paccekabuddha in inner attainment, they could not get even a hint of warmth. Therefore, on the seventh day, he rose and went as he pleased. Having done that karma, after suffering in hell for many hundreds of thousands of years, by the remaining result of that same karma, in hundreds of existences, they were burnt while their house was burning in this same manner. This is their past karma.

When this was said, the monks questioned the Teacher: "By what karma, O Lord, was Khujjuttarā born hunchbacked? By what karma was she of great wisdom? By what karma did she attain the fruit of Stream-entry? By what karma was she born as someone who carries messages for others?" "Monks, when that same king was reigning in Bārāṇasī, that same Paccekabuddha was slightly hunchbacked. Then one attending woman, covering herself with a blanket, taking a golden broom, showed how he walked, becoming hunchbacked, 'Our Paccekabuddha walks like this and like this.' By the consequence of that, she was born hunchbacked. However, on the first day, after seating those Paccekabuddhas in the royal palace, taking their bowls, she filled them with milk-rice and gave it to them. The Paccekabuddhas took the bowls filled with hot milk-rice, turning them over and over. Seeing them doing that, that woman gave eight of her own tooth-cleaners, saying, 'Take them, keeping them here.' When they did so and stood looking at her, knowing their intention, she said, 'We do not need these, O Venerable Ones. These are given to you. Take them and go.' They took them and went to Nandamūlaka cave. Even today, those tooth-cleaners are unharmed. By the consequence of that karma, now she is a master of the three baskets, of great wisdom. By the consequence of the service done to those Paccekabuddhas, she attained the fruit of Stream-entry. This is her past karma between Buddhas."

During the time of Kassapa Sammāsambuddha, a daughter of a banker in Bārāṇasī, sitting in a growing shade, was adorning herself, taking a mirror. Then, a female bhikkhu, a kihināsavā and a trusted friend of her came to see her. Female bhikkhus, even khīnāsavās, want to see their supporting families in the evening. At that moment, there was no messenger with the banker’s daughter, she said "Vandāmi, Ayye, take this jewelry box for me and give it to me." The Theri thought: "If I do not take this and give it to her, she will be angry with me and be reborn in hell. But if I give it to her, she will be reborn as a messenger for others. But being a messenger for others is better than the pain of hell." "Relying on compassion, she took it and gave it to her. By the consequence of that karma, she was born as a messenger for others."

Then one day the bhikkhus started a discussion in the Dhamma assembly: "Sāmāvatī and the five hundred women were burnt by fire in a house, Māgaṇḍiyā's relatives were broken by ploughs after straw fire was given on top of them, Māgaṇḍiyā was cooked in oil in a cauldron, who is alive here, who is dead?" The Teacher came and asked, "With what discussion are you gathered here now, bhikkhus?" When they said, "About this one," the Teacher said, "Bhikkhus, whoever is negligent, even living for a hundred years, is as good as dead. Those who are diligent, even dead, are still alive. Therefore, Māgaṇḍiyā, even while alive, is as good as dead, Sāmāvatī and the five hundred women, even dead, are still alive. Indeed, bhikkhus, the diligent do not die," and spoke these verses:

21.

"Diligence is the path to the Deathless, negligence is the path to death;
The diligent do not die, the negligent are as good as dead.

22.

"Thus, knowing this distinction well, the wise are diligent;
They delight in diligence, delighting in the domain of the Noble Ones.

23.

"Those who are meditative, constantly striving, ever firm in exertion;
The wise attain Nibbāna, the unsurpassed security from bondage."

The word appamādo reveals a great meaning, it stands taking a great meaning. Indeed, the entire Tipitaka, the word of the Buddha, when brought and spoken, falls into the word diligence. Therefore it was said:

"Just as, bhikkhus, all the footprints of living beings that roam on land are included in the footprint of the elephant, and the footprint of the elephant is said to be the chief among them because of its great size; so too, bhikkhus, all skillful qualities have diligence as their root, converge in diligence, and diligence is said to be the chief of those qualities" (saṃ. ni. 5.140).

Amatapadaṃ: Amata means Nibbāna. Because it is un-born, it neither decays nor dies, therefore it is called amata. Pada means to reach, it means that they reach to the amata. Amatassa padaṃ amatapadaṃ, it is said to be the means of attaining amata. Pamādo: the state of negligence, this is a name for the abandonment of mindfulness that is called forgetfulness. Maccuno: of death. Padaṃ: means the means, the way. For the negligent does not overcome birth, and being born, he decays and dies, therefore negligence is called the path to death, he approaches death. Appamattā na mīyantī: those who are diligent, endowed with mindfulness, do not die. It should not be considered that they do not age or die. Indeed, there is no being who does not age or die, but the round of the negligent is endless, the round of the diligent is finite. Therefore, the negligent, not being liberated from birth and so on, even while living, are as good as dead. But the diligent, developing the characteristic of diligence, quickly realize the paths and fruits and are not reborn in a second or third existence. Therefore, even while living, even while dead, they do not die. Ye pamattā yathā matā: but those beings who are negligent, because they are dead by the death of negligence, just as the dead whose consciousness has departed, who are similar to a log of wood due to the cutting off of the life-faculty, they are like that. Even for those dead ones, even for householders, not even a single thought arises, "I will give alms, I will keep the precepts, I will do the Uposatha observance," even for renunciants, it does not arise, "I will fulfill the duties to teachers and preceptors, I will undertake the dhutaṅgas, I will develop meditation." What difference do they have from the dead? Therefore it was said – "ye pamattā yathā matā".

Evaṃ visesato ñatvā: Knowing especially that there is no escape from the round of the negligent, but there is for the diligent. But who knows this distinction? Appamādamhi paṇḍitā: Those who are wise, intelligent, discerning, standing in their own diligence, develop diligence, they know this distinction. Appamāde pamodantī: Thus knowing, they rejoice in their own diligence, with joyful faces, delighted and pleased. Ariyānaṃ gocare ratā: Thus rejoicing in diligence, developing that diligence, they delight, are intent, are very intent in the domain of the Noble Ones, in the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment that are called the four foundations of mindfulness, and in the nine kinds of supramundane qualities.

Te jhāyino: those diligent wise ones, with twofold jhāna, with absorption-jhāna consisting of the eight attainments and with characteristic-jhāna consisting of insight path and fruition. Sātatikā: With constant physical and mental effort from the time of renunciation until the path of Arahatship. Niccaṃ daḷhaparakkamā: with such effort that must be attained by manly strength, manly effort, manly exertion, without attaining it there will be no stopping of effort, endowed with constant and firm effort without giving up in between. Phusantī: Here there are two kinds of touching: the touching of knowledge and the touching of result. There, the four paths are called the touching of knowledge, the four fruits are called the touching of result. Of these, here the touching of result is intended. The wise, realizing Nibbāna with the fruit of Arahatship, touch it with that touching of result, they realize Nibbāna. Yogakkhemaṃ anuttaraṃ: the four bonds (yoga) make people sink in the round of rebirths, khema is safe from them and anuttara is unsurpassed because it is the best of all mundane and supramundane things.

At the end of the discourse, many became Stream-enterers and so on. The discourse was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Story of Sāmāvatī, the first.

2. The Story of Kumbhaghosaka the Banker

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse concerning Kumbhaghosaka, while dwelling at the Veḷuvana Monastery, saying, "Uṭṭhānavato". In Rājagaha city, a pestilential disease arose in the house of the wealthy merchant of Rājagaha. When it arose, starting with flies and going up to cows, first the animals died, then the slaves and servants, and lastly the householders. Therefore, that disease afflicted and seized the wealthy merchant himself last of all. Afflicted by the disease, they looked at their son standing nearby and said to him with tearful eyes, "Dear son, it is said that when this disease arises, only those who escape by breaking through the wall survive. Without regard for us, escape and live. Returning again, you should take the forty-million gold coins we have deposited and kept in such-and-such a place, and make a living." Hearing their words, he, weeping, paid homage to his parents, and fearing the fear of death, broke through the wall, fled, went into the depths of the mountains, and after living there for twelve years, returned to the place where his parents had lived.

Then, because he had left as a young boy and returned with overgrown hair and beard, no one recognized him. He, knowing the safe state of the treasure by means of the sign given by his parents, thought, "No one recognizes me. If I were to unearth the treasure and use it, they would seize and harass me, saying, 'A treasure has been unearthed by a poor man.' Why don't I make a living by working as a hired man?" Then, wearing a rag, he reached the street of laborers, asking, "Is there anyone in need of a hired man?" Then the laborers, seeing him, said, "If you do one job for us, we will give you food and wages." "What job is that?" "The job of rousing and urging. If you are able, get up early in the morning and go around announcing, 'Fathers, get up, prepare the carts, yoke the oxen; it is time to go for grass for the elephants and horses; mothers, you too get up, cook rice-gruel, cook food.'" He agreed, saying, "Good." Then they gave him a house to live in. He did that work daily.

Then one day, King Bimbisāra heard his voice. He was skilled in understanding all sounds. Therefore, he said, "This is the voice of a very wealthy man." Then a certain attendant standing near him thought, "The king does not speak whatever comes to mind; it is fitting for me to know this," and sent a man, saying, "Go, dear, find this out." He quickly went, saw him, came back, and reported, "This is an impoverished man working as a hired laborer." Hearing his words, the king remained silent. On the second day and on the third day also, hearing that same voice of his, he said the same thing. That attendant, thinking in the same way, sent someone again and again, and when it was said, "This is an impoverished man," she thought, "Even after hearing the words 'This is an impoverished man,' the king does not believe it, and repeatedly says, 'This is the voice of a very wealthy man.' There must be a reason for this; it is fitting to know this as it really is." She said to the king, "O King, if I receive a thousand, I will take my daughter and bring that wealth into the royal family." The king had a thousand given to her.

Taking that, she dressed her daughter in a dirty old cloth, and leaving the royal palace with her as if setting out on a journey, she went to the street of laborers, entered a house, and said, "Mother, we are travelers, we will rest here for a day or two and then leave." "Mother, there are many householders; it is not possible to stay here. That house of Kumbhaghosaka is empty; go there." She went there, and said, "Master, we are travelers; we will stay here for a day or two." Though repeatedly refused by him, she did not want to leave, saying, "Master, we will stay only for one day today and leave early in the morning." Staying there, on the following day, at the time of his going to the forest, she said, "Master, after giving you alms, go; I will cook food for you." When he said, "Enough, mother, I will cook and eat myself," she insisted again and again, and having taken just what he gave, she quickly brought cooking pots and pure rice and other things from the market, and in accordance with the cooking regulations of the royal household, she cooked very pure rice and two or three curries with delicious flavors, and gave it to him when he came from the forest. Then, knowing that he had become softened in mind after eating, she said, "Master, we are tired; let us stay here for a day or two." He agreed, saying, "Good."

Then in the evening and again on the following day, she cooked sweet rice and gave it to him. Then, knowing his softened state of mind, "Master, let us stay here for a few days." While living there, with a sharp knife, she cut the woven straps of his bed, one here and one there, below. The bed sagged downwards as soon as he came and sat down. He said, "Why has this bed broken and gone down like this?" "Master, I am unable to stop the young children; they keep jumping on it." "Mother, this trouble has arisen for me because of you. Formerly, whenever I went somewhere, I would go after closing the door." "What can I do, dear? I am unable to stop them." In this same manner, she cut it for two or three days, and even though he complained and grumbled, saying the same thing, she cut one or two more ropes and left the rest. That day, as soon as he sat down on it, all the straps fell to the ground, his head was together with his knees; he got up and said, "What can I do? Where can I go now? You have made even the bed I lie on as if it has no owner." "Dear, what can I do? I am unable to stop the neighboring children; let it be, do not worry. Where will you go at this time?" Calling her daughter, she said, "Dear, make a place for your brother to lie down." She, lying down on one side, said, "Come here, master." The other one said to him, "Go, dear, lie down with your sister." He, lying down with her on one bed, became intimate that very day, and the young girl cried. Then her mother asked her, "Why are you crying, dear?" "Mother, this is what happened." "Let it be, dear, what can be done? You too should get a husband and he too should get a foot servant through this." She made him her son-in-law. They lived together harmoniously.

After a few days had passed, she sent a message to the king, "Let a festival be held in the laborers' street. Whoever does not hold a festival in their house, let it be proclaimed that they will be fined such and such." The king had it done that way. Then his mother-in-law said to him, "Dear, by royal decree, a festival must be held in the laborers' street; what shall we do?" "Mother, even while working as a hired man, I am unable to live; what shall I do?" "Dear, those who live in a household borrow debts, it is not permissible to disobey the king's order. It is possible to be freed from debt by some means or other, go, bring one or two kahāpaṇas from somewhere." He, grumbling and complaining, went and brought only one kahāpaṇa from the place of the forty-million treasure. She sent that kahāpaṇa to the king and held a festival with her own kahāpaṇa. Again, after a few days had passed, she sent a message in the same way. Again, the king ordered in the same way, "Let a festival be held, those who do not hold one will be fined such and such." Again, when she said the same thing to him in the same way and pressed him, he went and brought three kahāpaṇas. She sent those kahāpaṇas to the king as well. Again, after a few days had passed, she sent a message in the same way: "Now, send men and summon him here." The king sent them. The men, going and asking, "Which one is named Kumbhaghosaka?" and searching, saw him and said, "Come, sir, the king is summoning you." He, frightened, saying "The king does not know me," and so on, did not want to go. Then they forcibly seized him by the hands and so on and dragged him. Seeing them, that woman, scolding them, "Hey, insolent ones, it is not proper for you to seize my son-in-law by the hands and so on," and saying, "Come, dear, do not be afraid; after seeing the king, I will have the hands of those who seized your hands cut off," and taking her daughter, being in front, reached the royal palace, changed her clothes, adorned with all ornaments, stood to one side. They brought the other one by dragging him.

Then the king, after paying homage and standing, said to him, "Are you named Kumbhaghosaka?" "Yes, Your Majesty." "Why do you deceive and eat away great wealth?" "Where do I have wealth, Your Majesty, living by working as a hired man?" "Do not do so, why do you deceive us?" "I do not deceive, Your Majesty, I have no wealth." Then the king showed him those kahāpaṇas and said, "Whose are these kahāpaṇas?" Recognizing them, "Alas, I am foolish, how did these reach the king's hand?" looking here and there, seeing those two standing at the base of the palace gate, adorned and ornamented, he thought, "This deed is a heavy one; they must have been employed by the king." Then the king said to him, "Tell me, sir, why do you do so?" "I have no refuge, Your Majesty." "One like me is not fit to be a refuge?" "It is good, Your Majesty, if Your Majesty is my refuge." "I will be, sir. How much wealth do you have?" "Forty million, Your Majesty." "What is needed to obtain it?" "Carts, Your Majesty." The king, having had many hundreds of carts yoked and sent, had that wealth brought, piled it up in the royal courtyard, gathered the residents of Rājagaha, and asked, "Is there anyone in this city with such wealth?" When they said, "No, Your Majesty," "What is fitting to do for him?" When they said, "Honor, Your Majesty," having installed him in the position of a wealthy merchant with great honor, and giving his daughter to him, going with him to the presence of the Teacher, paying homage, he said, "Venerable sir, see this man, there is no one as resolute as this; even though he has a fortune of forty million, he does not show off an extravagant manner or even an ounce of pride, but lives working as a hired man in the laborers' street, wearing a rag like a poor man, and was known by me through this means. And after knowing, summoning him, and having him admit his wealthy state, and having that wealth brought, he has been installed in the position of a wealthy merchant, and his daughter has been given by me. Venerable sir, such a resolute man has never been seen by me before."

Hearing that, the Teacher said, "Living in this way is called righteous living, O Great King, but thieving and other such deeds afflict and harm in this world and in the next, and therefore there is no happiness. For a man in times of financial difficulty, making a living by farming or working as a hired man is called righteous living. For such a person, endowed with energy, endowed with mindfulness, whose actions through body and speech are pure, who acts after careful consideration with wisdom, who is restrained in body and so on, who lives a righteous life, whose mindfulness is unforgetful, his glory indeed increases," and spoke this verse:

24.

"For one who is energetic and mindful,
Whose work is pure, who acts with consideration;
Who is restrained, who lives righteously,
And is heedful, glory ever increases."

Uṭṭhānavato means possessing the energy of effort (uṭṭhānavīriya). Satimato means possessing mindfulness (satisampanna). Sucikammassā means being endowed with flawless and blameless actions of body, etc. Nisammakārino means one who, like a physician treating a disease, examines and considers all actions after reflecting on the cause, thinking, "If this happens, I will do this," or "If this action is done in this way, such and such will be the result," thus carefully planning every action. Saññatassā means one who is restrained by body, etc., and is without flaws. Dhammajīvino means one who, if a householder, avoids false weights and measures, and makes a living by farming, cattle-raising, etc.; if a homeless one, avoids medical practice, messenger services, etc., and maintains a livelihood by alms-seeking in accordance with the Dhamma, equitably. Appamattassā means one whose mindfulness is not disturbed. Yasobhivaḍḍhatī means both the glory consisting of prosperity and wealth, and the glory consisting of fame and praise, increase.

At the end of the verses, Kumbhaghosaka was established in the fruition of stream-entry (sotāpattiphala). Many others also attained the fruits of stream-entry, etc. Thus, the Dhamma talk was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Second Story of Kumbhaghosaka the Merchant.

3. The Story of Cūḷapanthaka Thera

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma teaching, beginning with "Uṭṭhānenappamādenā," while dwelling at the Veluvana Monastery, concerning Cūḷapanthaka Thera.

It seems that in Rājagaha, the daughter of a wealthy merchant family, being carefully guarded on the upper floor of a seven-storied mansion when she reached marriageable age, became infatuated with a man due to youthful intoxication and formed a relationship with her own slave. Fearing that others would know of her actions, she said, "We cannot live in this place. If my parents find out about this fault, they will cut me to pieces. Let's go and live abroad." Taking their valuables, they left through the main gate, thinking, "We will go and live wherever others do not know us." While living together in one place, she conceived a child. When her pregnancy reached full term, she conferred with him, "My pregnancy is at full term. Giving birth in a place without relatives and friends would be painful for both of us. Let's go to our family home." He, fearing that his life would be in danger if he went there, put off the days, saying, "We will go today, we will go tomorrow." She thought, "This fool, due to the enormity of his fault, does not dare to go. Parents are always well-wishers. Whether he goes or not, I will go." When he left the house, she returned the household items, informed the residents of the neighboring houses that she was going to her family home, and set out on the road.

They named him Panthaka. Before long, she conceived another child. Everything should be elaborated in the same way as before. Because that child was also born on the road, they named the firstborn Mahāpanthaka and the other Cūḷapanthaka. Taking both children, they went to their place of residence. While they were living there, the boy Mahāpanthaka, hearing other children saying, "Grandfather, grandmother," and "Great-father, little father," asked his mother, "Mother, other children say 'grandfather, grandmother,' and 'great-father, little father.' Do we not have any relatives?" "Yes, son, we have no relatives here. In the city of Rājagaha, there is a wealthy merchant named Dhanaseṭṭhi who is your grandfather, and we have many relatives there." "Why don't you go there, mother?" Without telling her son the reason for her not going, she said to her husband when the sons repeatedly asked, "These children trouble me greatly. Are our parents going to eat my flesh after seeing me? Come, let's show the children their grandfather's family." "I cannot appear before them, but they can be taken there." "Good, one way or another, the children should see their grandfather's family." Both of them took the children and gradually reached Rājagaha, entered a hall at the city gate, and the children's mother, taking the two children, sent word to her parents that she had arrived. Hearing that message, they said, "For those wandering in saṃsāra, there has never been a time when there was no son or daughter. They are great offenders against us. They cannot stand in our sight. Take this much wealth, let both of them go to a safe place and live, but send the children here." Giving the wealth, they sent a messenger.

Taking the wealth sent by them, they gave the children into the hands of the messengers who had come and sent them away. The children grew up in their grandfather's family. Among them, Cūḷapanthaka was very young, but Mahāpanthaka went with his grandfather to listen to the Dhamma talk of the Ten-Powered One. As he went to the Teacher regularly, his mind inclined towards ordination. He said to his grandfather, "If you would allow me, I would like to be ordained." "What are you saying, dear? Your ordination is better for me than the ordination of the whole world. If you can, be ordained." Taking him to the Teacher, when he was asked, "What is this, householder, have you obtained a child?" he said, "Yes, venerable sir, this is my grandson who wishes to be ordained in your presence." The Teacher ordered a certain monk who went for alms, "Ordain this boy." The Elder taught him the five primary objects of meditation (tacapañcakakammaṭṭhāna) and ordained him. Having learned much of the Buddha's teachings and having completed his years, he attained full ordination (upasampadā) and, attending to the meditation subject with proper attention (yonisomanasikāra), attained arahantship. Spending his time in the bliss of jhāna and the bliss of fruition, he thought, "Is it possible to give this bliss to Cūḷapanthaka?" Then, going to the merchant grandfather, he said, "Great merchant, if you would allow it, I would ordain Cūḷapanthaka." "Ordain him, venerable sir." It seems the merchant was very pleased with the Dispensation, and when asked, "To which daughter are these children born?" he was ashamed to say, "To the daughter who ran away," so he readily agreed to their ordination. The Elder ordained Cūḷapanthaka and established him in the precepts. Having been ordained, he became dull.

‘Just as a red lotus, sweetly fragrant,
Might be in full bloom at dawn, its scent not yet faded;
Behold Aṅgīrasa, shining forth,
Blazing like the sun in the sky.’ (SN 1.123; AN 5.195)

He could not learn this one verse in four months. It seems that in the time of Kassapa, the perfectly enlightened Buddha, having been ordained and being wise, he made fun of a dull monk during the recitation of the lesson. That monk, ashamed by that mockery, neither learned the lesson nor recited it. By that action, having been ordained, he was born dull. The words he grasped would be lost as he grasped word after word. Four months passed while he was trying to learn this very verse. Then Mahāpanthaka said to him, "Cūḷapanthaka, you are incapable in this Dispensation. You cannot even learn one verse in four months. How will you bring the duties of the ordained life to completion? Get out of here!" and drove him out of the monastery. Cūḷapanthaka, with affection for the Buddha's Dispensation, did not desire the life of a householder.

At that time, Mahāpanthaka was the distributor of food. Jīvaka Komārabhacca, taking many garlands, perfumes, and unguents, went to his mango grove, honored the Teacher, listened to the Dhamma, and rising from his seat, paid homage to the Ten-Powered One and approached Mahāpanthaka, asking, "How many monks are there with the Teacher, venerable sir?" "Five hundred monks." "Tomorrow, venerable sir, please accept alms at my residence, bringing the five hundred monks with the Buddha at their head." The Elder said, "Lay follower, there is a monk named Cūḷapanthaka who is dull and whose knowledge has not developed. I accept the invitation for the rest, excluding him." Hearing that, Cūḷapanthaka thought, "The Elder, accepting the invitation for so many monks, accepts it excluding me. Certainly, my brother's mind will be displeased with me. What is the use of this Dispensation to me now? I will live as a householder, doing meritorious deeds such as giving." The next morning, he started to leave early.

The Teacher, surveying the world at dawn, saw this reason and, going ahead, stood walking back and forth in the doorway on Cūḷapanthaka's path. Cūḷapanthaka, seeing the Teacher as he was going, approached, paid homage, and stood there. Then the Teacher said to him, "Where are you going, Cūḷapanthaka, at this time?" "My brother is driving me out, venerable sir, so I am going to leave." "Cūḷapanthaka, your ordination belongs to me. Why did you not come to me when you were driven out by your brother? Come, what is the use of being a householder to you? You will stay with me." Touching his head with his hand marked with a wheel, he took him and, having him sit in front of the Perfumed Chamber (gandhakuṭi), gave him a pure cloth, blessed by his power, saying, "Cūḷapanthaka, sit here facing east, wiping this duster while saying 'rajoharaṇaṃ rajoharaṇaṃ'," and when the time was announced, surrounded by the Sangha of monks, he went to Jīvaka's house and sat on the prepared seat. Cūḷapanthaka, looking at the sun, sat wiping that duster, saying, "rajoharaṇaṃ rajoharaṇaṃ." As he wiped that piece of cloth, it became soiled. Then he thought, "This piece of cloth was very pure, but relying on this self, having abandoned its former nature, it has become soiled like this. Impermanent are conditioned things." Establishing (his mind) in decay and dissolution, he developed insight. The Teacher, knowing that Cūḷapanthaka's mind had ascended to insight, said, "Cūḷapanthaka, do not perceive only the soiled piece of cloth as 'dirt, dirt.' But within you there are defilements such as lust. Abandon them!" and emitting radiance, appearing as if sitting in front of him, spoke these verses:

"Lust is called 'dust,' but it is not called 'dirt';
This is the designation for lust, as 'dust';
Those monks, having abandoned this 'dust',
Live in the Dispensation of Him who is rid of 'dust'."

"Hatred is called 'dust,' but it is not called 'dirt';
This is the designation for hatred, as 'dust';
Those monks, having abandoned this 'dust',
Live in the Dispensation of Him who is rid of 'dust'."

"Delusion is called 'dust,' but it is not called 'dirt';
This is the designation for delusion, as 'dust';
Those monks, having abandoned this 'dust',
Live in the Dispensation of Him who is rid of 'dust'." (Maha Niddesa 209)

At the end of the verses, Cūḷapanthaka attained arahantship together with the discriminations (paṭisambhidā). Together with the discriminations, the three baskets (ti piṭaka) came to him.

It seems that in the past, having been a king, while circumambulating the city, sweat dripped from his forehead, and he wiped his forehead with a pure cloth; the cloth became soiled. He gained the perception of impermanence (aniccasaññaṃ), thinking, "Relying on this body, such a pure cloth has abandoned its original nature and become soiled. Impermanent are conditioned things." For that reason, the duster itself became the condition for him.

Jīvaka Komārabhacca offered the right-hand water of respect to the Ten-Powered One. The Teacher, saying, "But, Jīvaka, are there monks in the monastery?" covered the bowl with his hand. Mahāpanthaka said, "But, venerable sir, there are no monks in the monastery." The Teacher said, "There are, Jīvaka." Jīvaka, then, sent a man, saying, "In that case, my lord, go and find out for yourself whether there are monks in the monastery or not." At that moment, Cūḷapanthaka thought, "My brother says, 'There are no monks in the monastery.' I will reveal the presence of monks in the monastery to him," and he filled the entire mango grove with monks. Some monks were making robes, some were dyeing robes, some were reciting. In this way, he created a thousand monks, each unlike the other. Seeing many monks in the monastery, that man returned and reported to Jīvaka, "Sir, the entire mango grove is filled with monks." The Elder also, right there –

"Having created a thousand of himself,
Panthaka sits in the lovely mango grove,
Until the time is announced."

Then the Teacher said to that man, "Go to the monastery and say, 'The Teacher is calling for someone named Cūḷapanthaka.'" When he went and said this, a thousand voices arose, saying, "I am Cūḷapanthaka, I am Cūḷapanthaka." The man went again and said, "It seems, venerable sir, that all are named Cūḷapanthaka." "Then go and take the hand of the one who first says, 'I am Cūḷapanthaka'; the rest will disappear." He did so. Immediately, a thousand monks disappeared. The Elder went with that man. At the end of the meal, the Teacher addressed Jīvaka, "Jīvaka, take Cūḷapanthaka's bowl; he will give you a blessing." Jīvaka did so. The Elder, roaring a lion's roar, like a young lion, stirred up the three Piṭakas and gave a blessing. The Teacher, rising from his seat, surrounded by the Sangha of monks, went to the monastery, and when the duties were shown by the monks, standing at the entrance to the Perfumed Chamber, he gave the Sugata's advice to the Sangha of monks, spoke about the object of meditation, dismissed the Sangha of monks, and entered the Perfumed Chamber, fragrant with pleasant scents, and took up the lion's posture on his right side. Then, in the evening, the monks gathered from here and there, and sitting as if surrounded by a red blanket, they began to talk about the virtues of the Teacher, "Friends, Mahāpanthaka, not knowing Cūḷapanthaka's disposition, was unable to teach him a single verse in four months and drove him out of the monastery, saying, 'He is slow.' But the Sammāsambuddha, in his unsurpassed Dhamma-kingship, gave him Arahantship with the analytical knowledges in a single mealtime; the three Piṭakas came with the analytical knowledges. Indeed, the power of the Buddhas is great!"

Then the Blessed One, knowing this course of conversation in the Dhamma Hall, thinking, "Today it is fitting for me to go," rising from the Buddha's bed, putting on a bright red upper robe, tying a waistband like a flash of lightning, wrapping himself in the great Sugata robe resembling a red blanket, emerging from the fragrant Perfumed Chamber with the gait of a lordly elephant, the playful stride of a lion, with the endless grace of a Buddha, went to the Dhamma Hall, ascended the well-prepared excellent Buddha seat in the middle of the decorated pavilion, emitting six-colored Buddha rays, agitating the ocean's depths, like the young sun on the peak of Yugandhara, sat in the middle of the seat. As soon as the Sammāsambuddha arrived, the Sangha of monks stopped talking and became silent. The Teacher, with a gentle, loving mind, looked over the assembly, "This assembly is very beautiful; there is not even one with fidgeting hands or feet, or the sound of coughing or snapping fingers; all are respectful with reverence for the Buddha, subdued by the Buddha's power. Even if I were to sit here without speaking for an eon, they would not initiate a conversation. The duty of initiating a conversation must be known by me alone; I myself will speak first," and addressing the monks with a sweet, Brahma-like voice, "With what conversation are you gathered here now, monks, and what was the interrupted talk in between you?" and when it was said, "It was this," he said, "Monks, Cūḷapanthaka is not only slow now, he was slow in the past as well. Not only have I become his refuge now, but I was his refuge in the past as well. In the past, I made him the master of a worldly family; now [he is master] of a supramundane family," and being requested by the monks who wished to hear that matter in detail, he brought forth the past –

"In the past, monks, a certain young man living in the city of Bārāṇasī went to Takkasilā to learn a skill, became a resident pupil of a pre-eminent teacher, and among five hundred young men, he was extremely helpful to the teacher, doing all the duties, such as foot care. But because of his slowness, he could not learn anything." The teacher, thinking, "He is very helpful to me; I will hope for his wisdom, but I cannot do it; I must do something in return for him," led him into the forest and tied a mantra for him, saying, "Rub it, rub it, why do you rub it? I also know it, I know it!" After repeating this mantra hundreds of times, when asked, "Do you understand?" and when he said, "Yes, I understand," thinking, "A skill made proficient through effort by a slow person does not disappear," giving him provisions for the journey, he dismissed him, saying, "Go, live relying on this mantra, and constantly recite it so that it does not disappear." Then, when he arrived in Bārāṇasī, his mother showed him great honor and respect, saying, "My son has come back having learned a skill."

At that time, the king of Bārāṇasī, reflecting, "Is there any fault of mine in bodily actions, etc.?" not seeing any objectionable action of his own, thinking, "One's own fault is not apparent to oneself, it is apparent to others; I will hear from the citizens," went out in disguise in the evening, wandering along the walls of various houses, thinking, "The conversation of people sitting after eating their evening meal is of various kinds; if I rule unjustly, they will say, 'We are afflicted by a sinful, unjust king with punishments, taxes, etc.' If I rule justly, they will say, 'May our king live long!' and will speak of my virtues."

At that moment, tunnel thieves were digging a tunnel between two houses to enter two houses with one tunnel. The king saw them and stood in the shadow of the house. When they had dug the tunnel, entered the house, and were looking for goods, the young man woke up and, reciting that mantra, said, "Rub it, rub it, why do you rub it? I also know it, I know it!" Hearing this, they thought, "We have been recognized by him, now he will destroy us!" and throwing away even their lower garments, they fled in fear face to face. Seeing them fleeing and hearing the sound of the mantra recitation, the king secured that house, inquired of the citizens, and entered his residence. Then, at dawn, he summoned a man and said, "Go, my good man, in such-and-such street, in the house where a tunnel has been dug, there is a young man who has come back having learned a skill from Takkasilā; bring him here." He went and said, "The king is calling you," and brought the young man. Then the king said to him, "Are you, young man, the one who has come back having learned a skill from Takkasilā?" "Yes, your majesty." "Give that skill to us as well." "Very well, your majesty, sit on an equal seat and learn it." The king also did so, took the mantra, and gave a thousand [coins], saying, "This is your teacher's fee."

Then the commander-in-chief said to the king's barber, "When will you shave the king?" "Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow." He gave him a thousand and said, "I have a task to do," and when he said, "What is it, master?" he said, "While shaving the king, sharpen the razor excessively and cut his throat; you will become the commander-in-chief, and I will become the king." He agreed, saying, "Very well," and on the day of shaving the king, after wetting the beard with scented water, sharpening the razor excessively, and taking it to the forehead, thinking, "The razor is a bit dull; it is fitting to cut the throat with one stroke," he stood aside again and sharpened the razor. At that moment, the king, remembering his mantra, reciting, said, "Rub it, rub it, why do you rub it? I also know it, I know it!" Sweat dripped from the barber's forehead. He, thinking, "The king knows my reason," frightened, threw the razor on the ground and fell at his feet with his chest. Kings are clever; therefore, he said this to him, "Hey, wicked barber, are you under the impression that 'the king does not know me'?" "Give me safety, your majesty!" "Let it be, do not be afraid, tell me!" The commander-in-chief, your majesty, gave me a thousand, saying, "While shaving the king, cut his throat; I, becoming king, will make you the commander-in-chief." Hearing this, the king, thinking, "Life has been given to me by relying on my teacher," had the commander-in-chief summoned and said, "Sir commander-in-chief, what have you not received from me? Now I cannot bear to see you; leave my kingdom!" After banishing him from the kingdom, he had the teacher summoned and, saying, "Teacher, life has been given to me by relying on you," after showing him great honor, gave him the position of commander-in-chief. "He was Cūḷapanthaka then; the Teacher was the pre-eminent teacher."

Having told the story of the past in the Cūḷaseṭṭhi Jātaka –

"Even with a small gift, the wise, the discerning,
Raise themselves up, like a small fire when fanned." (Jā. 1.1.4) –

Having spoken the verse, "Monks, not only have I become his refuge now, but I was his refuge in the past as well. In the past, I made him the master of a worldly family; now [he is master] of a supramundane family. Then the junior pupil was Cūḷapanthaka; Cūḷaseṭṭhi, however, the wise, clever, and skilled in astrology, was myself," he identified the Jātaka.

One day, they started a conversation in the Dhamma Hall, "Friends, Cūḷapanthaka, even though he was unable to learn a four-line verse in four months, without giving up effort, was established in Arahantship and has now become the master of the supramundane Dhamma family." The Teacher came and, asking, "With what conversation are you gathered here now, monks?" and when it was said, "It was this," he said, "Monks, a monk who has initiated effort in my dispensation will indeed become the master of the supramundane Dhamma," and spoke this verse –

25.

"By effort, by diligence, by restraint, and by self-control,
Let the wise make an island that a flood cannot overwhelm."

dīpaṃ kayirāthāti: "Let him make an island," meaning, with effort consisting of energy; with mindfulness consisting of unwavering attention; with restraint consisting of the fourfold purity of moral conduct (catupārisuddhisīla); and with the taming of the senses—endowed with wisdom born of the Dhamma, the wise person, in this Saṃsāra-ocean that is exceedingly difficult to establish oneself in, and is very profound, should make, would make, could make an island, which is the fruit of Arahatship, his own foundation. What kind of island? Yaṃ ogho nābhikīratīti: "Which the flood cannot overwhelm," meaning, which even the fourfold flood of defilements is not able to overwhelm, to destroy. For it is not possible for Arahatship to be overwhelmed by a flood.

At the end of the verses, many attained Sotāpanna and other stages. Thus, the discourse was beneficial to the assembled audience.

The Third Story about Cūḷapanthaka Thera.

4. The Story of the Bālanakkhatta Festival

Pamādamanuyuñjantīti: "Indulging in negligence"—this Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning the Bālanakkhatta festival.

At one time, in Sāvatthī, a festival called Bālanakkhatta was proclaimed. During that festival, foolish and unwise people would smear their bodies with ashes and cow dung, and wander about for a week uttering vulgarities. There was no shame in seeing any relative, friend, or renunciant. They would stand at each doorway and utter vulgarities. People, unable to bear hearing their vulgarities, would send them half a kahāpaṇa, a quarter, or a whole one, according to their means. They would take whatever they received at their doors and depart. At that time, about five crores of noble disciples lived in Sāvatthī, and they sent a message to the Teacher: "Venerable sir, may the Blessed One remain in the monastery for a week with the Saṅgha of monks, without entering the city." For that week, they prepared and sent rice-gruel and other provisions to the Saṅgha of monks at the monastery, and they themselves did not leave their houses. When that festival was over, on the eighth day, they invited the Saṅgha of monks, with the Buddha at their head, into the city, gave a great donation, and sat down to one side, saying, "Venerable sir, these seven days have passed with great difficulty for us; hearing the vulgarities of the fools, our ears were about to burst; no one has any shame before anyone, therefore we did not dare to have you enter the city, nor did we leave our houses." Having heard their words, the Teacher said, "Such is the behavior of fools and unwise people, but the wise, guarding diligence like a treasure, attain the great bliss of deathlessness, Nibbāna," and spoke these verses:

26.

“Fools, the unwise, indulge in negligence,
But the wise guard diligence as the greatest treasure.

27.

“Do not indulge in negligence, nor in sensual delight and intimacy;
For the diligent, meditating, attains abundant bliss.”

bālāti: "Fools," meaning those who are endowed with foolishness, not knowing what is beneficial in this life and the next. Dummedhinoti: "Unwise," meaning without wisdom. Not seeing the danger in negligence, they indulge in negligence, they encourage negligence, they spend time in negligence. Medhāvīti: "The wise," meaning the intelligent person endowed with wisdom born of the Dhamma, guards diligence like a superior, excellent treasure of seven jewels inherited from his family lineage. Just as, relying on an excellent treasure, they foresee benefits in the treasure, thinking, "We will attain the enjoyment of sensual pleasures, we will support our children and wives, we will purify the path to the next world," and they protect it, so too, the wise person, seeing benefits in diligence, thinking, "I will attain the first jhāna and so on, I will attain the paths and fruits and so on, I will accomplish the three knowledges and the six supernormal powers," guards diligence like the greatest treasure. Mā pamādanti: "Do not indulge in negligence," therefore, do not indulge in negligence, do not spend time in negligence. Mā kāmaratisanthavanti: "Nor in sensual delight and intimacy," do not indulge in intimacy, which is delight in sense-desires and defilement-desires, do not think about it, do not cultivate it. Appamatto hīti: "For the diligent," because the person who is diligent, with mindfulness established, meditating, attains abundant, great bliss, which is Nibbāna.

At the end of the verses, many attained Sotāpanna and other stages. The Dhamma talk was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Fourth Story of the Bālanakkhatta Festival.

5. The Story of Mahākassapa Thera

Pamādaṃappamādenāti: "Negligence by diligence"—this Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning Mahākassapa Thera.

On one occasion, the Thera, while dwelling in Pipphali Cave, having gone for alms in Rājagaha and returning from his alms round after the meal, increasing his light, sat down observing with his divine eye beings who are negligent and diligent, who pass away and are reborn in watery, earthly, mountainous, and other places. The Teacher, while sitting in Jetavana, considering with his divine eye, "In what state does my son Kassapa abide today?", knowing that "He abides observing the passing away and rebirth of beings," said, "The passing away and rebirth of beings is not defined even by the Buddha-knowledge; the determination of beings passing away, having taken rebirth in a mother's womb without the parents knowing, cannot be done; it is not within your scope to know them, Kassapa; the diligent is within your scope, but to know and see all those who pass away and are reborn is only within the scope of Buddhas," and radiating light, as if sitting in front of him, he spoke this verse:

28.

“When the wise one dispels negligence by diligence,
Ascending the palace of wisdom, free from sorrow, he observes the sorrowing beings;
Like one on a mountaintop observing those on the ground, the steadfast one observes the fools.”

nudatīti: "Dispels," just as when fresh water entering a pond stirs up the old water, not giving it space, and pushes it away, fleeing with its head, so too, when the wise person develops the characteristic of diligence, not giving space to negligence, when he dispels, removes it with the force of diligence, then he, with negligence dispelled, having become exceedingly elevated, fulfilling the appropriate practice for the palace of wisdom, which is called the pure divine eye, ascending the palace by that practice as if by a ladder, being free from the dart of sorrow, asoko, and observing the multitude of beings who are sokiniṃ pajaṃ, being still pierced by the dart of sorrow, passing away and being reborn with his divine eye, avekkhati passes away. Like what? Pabbataṭṭhovabhūmaṭṭheti: "Like one on a mountaintop observing those on the ground," just as one standing on the summit of a mountain observes those standing on the ground, or one standing on the upper terrace observes those standing in the courtyard of the palace, without difficulty, so too, that wise one, the great Khīṇāsava, whose seed of the round of existence is not cut off, observes the fools passing away and being reborn without difficulty.

At the end of the verses, many realized the fruit of Sotāpatti and other stages.

The Fifth Story of Mahākassapa Thera.

6. The Story of Two Companion Monks, One Diligent and One Negligent

Appamattopamattesūti: "The diligent among the negligent"—this Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning two companion monks.

It is said that they took a meditation subject from the Teacher and entered a forest monastery. Of those, one would gather firewood early in the morning, prepare the charcoal pit, and sit down spending the first watch idly, chatting with the young novices. The diligent one, practicing the duties of a recluse, would advise the other, "Friend, do not do this; for the negligent, the four woeful states are like one's own home. Buddhas cannot be pleased by deceit." He would not listen to his advice. The other, thinking, "He is not amenable to advice," without saying anything to him, would diligently perform the duties of a recluse. The lazy Thera also, having spent the first watch idly, would enter the dwelling of the other after he had finished walking up and down and entered his dwelling, and saying, "Great lazy one, you have entered the forest to lie down and sleep, is it proper to take a meditation subject from the Buddhas and get up and perform the duties of a recluse?", he would enter his own dwelling place, lie down, and sleep. The other, having rested during the middle watch, would get up in the last watch and perform the duties of a recluse. While he was thus living diligently, before long he attained Arahatship together with the Paṭisambhidā. The other spent his time in negligence. Having completed the rains-residence, they went to the Teacher, paid homage to the Teacher, and sat down to one side. The Teacher, after exchanging greetings with them, asked, "Monks, have you diligently performed the duties of a recluse? Has your task as renunciants reached its culmination?" The first monk, who was negligent, said, "How can there be diligence for this one, venerable sir? From the time we left, he has spent his time lying down and sleeping." "And you, monk?" "Venerable sir, I gather firewood early in the morning, prepare the charcoal pit, and sit down spending the first watch without sleeping." Then the Teacher said to him, "You, having spent your time in negligence, say 'I am diligent,' and you disparage the diligent one." Then, to reveal the faults in negligence and the benefits in diligence, saying, "You are like a horse with cut speed, weak, in the presence of my son, but he is like a swift horse in your presence," he spoke this verse:

29.

“The diligent among the negligent, wide awake among those who sleep,
The wise one goes ahead, leaving behind the weak horse, like a swift horse.”

appamattoti: "The diligent," meaning the Khīṇāsava who is accomplished in diligence due to the attainment of great mindfulness. Pamattesūti: "Among the negligent," meaning among the beings who are established in the abandonment of mindfulness. Suttesūti: "Among those who sleep," meaning among those who are sleeping in all postures due to the absence of the wakefulness of mindfulness. Bahujāgaroti: "Wide awake," meaning established in great wakefulness of mindfulness. Abalassaṃvāti: "Like a weak horse," just as a swift, thoroughbred horse leaves behind a horse with blunt hooves, cut speed, and weakness. Sumedhasoti: "The wise one," meaning one with excellent wisdom. Such a person leaves behind and goes beyond a person with little wisdom both by learning and by realization. For while one with little wisdom is striving to grasp one Sutta, the wise one grasps a Vagga, thus he leaves behind by learning. But while the one with little wisdom is striving to perform the night watch and the day watch, even while memorizing and reciting the meditation subject, the wise one, having entered the night watch or the day watch done by another in the earlier part, contemplating the meditation subject, destroying all the defilements, makes the supramundane Dhammas attainable, thus he leaves behind by realization. But he definitely leaves behind, abandoning him in the round of existence, and goes forth, escaping from the round of existence.

At the end of the verses, many attained the fruit of Sotāpatti and other stages.

The Sixth Story of Two Companion Monks, One Diligent and One Negligent.

7. The Story of Magha

Appamādena maghavāti: "By diligence, Maghavā"—this Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling near Vesālī, in the Kūṭāgāra Hall, concerning Sakka, the king of the gods.

Having heard the Sakkapañhasuttantadesanaṃ (Dī. Ni. 2.344 ff.), he thought, "The Sammāsambuddha spoke of Sakka's great fortune, thinking, 'Did he speak having seen it, or without seeing it? Does he know Sakka, or not?' I will ask." Then, Mahāli, the Licchavis approached the Blessed One, and after approaching, paid homage to the Blessed One and sat down to one side. Sitting to one side, Mahāli, the Licchavi said this to the Blessed One: "Venerable sir, has Sakka, the Lord of the Gods, been seen by the Blessed One?" "Sakka, the Lord of the Gods, has been seen by me, Mahāli." "Then, venerable sir, he will be a mere image of Sakka. For Sakka, the Lord of the Gods, is difficult to see." "I know Sakka, Mahāli, and the qualities that make one Sakka; I know also that due to undertaking which qualities Sakka attained Sakka-hood."

Sakka, Mahāli, the Lord of the Gods, having been a human being in the past, was a young man named Magha, therefore he is called "Maghavā."

Sakka, Mahāli, the Lord of the Gods, having been a human being in the past, gave donations in the towns, therefore he is called "Purindado."

Sakka, Mahāli, the Lord of the Gods, having been a human being in the past, gave donations with respect, therefore he is called "Sakka."

Sakka, Mahāli, the Lord of the Gods, having been a human being in the past, gave resting places, therefore he is called "Vāsava."

Sakka, Mahāli, the Lord of the Gods, thinks of a thousand matters in a moment, therefore he is called "Sahassakkho."

Mahāli, Sujā, the daughter of an Asura, is the consort of Sakka, the lord of gods; therefore, he is called "Sujampati" (Husband of Sujā).

Mahāli, Sakka, the lord of gods, exercises sovereignty and dominion over the Tāvatiṃsa gods; therefore, he is called "Devānaminda" (Lord of Gods).

Mahāli, when Sakka, the lord of gods, was formerly a human being, he perfectly undertook and completed seven vows, by undertaking which Sakka attained to Sakka-hood. What are the seven vows? As long as I live, may I support my parents; as long as I live, may I respect the elders in my clan; as long as I live, may I be gentle of speech; as long as I live, may I abstain from divisive speech; as long as I live, may I dwell in a house with a mind rid of the stain of stinginess, freely generous, open-handed, delighting in relinquishment, devoted to charity, delighting in giving and sharing. As long as I live, may I speak the truth; as long as I live, may I be without anger; "Even if anger should arise in me, may I quickly subdue it." Mahāli, when Sakka, the lord of gods, was formerly a human being, these were the seven vows he perfectly undertook and completed, by undertaking which Sakka attained to Sakka-hood.

"A mortal who supports his parents,

"Devoted to overcoming stinginess, truthful,
A man who conquers anger:
The Tāvatiṃsa gods call him
A 'good person.'" (saṃ. ni. 1.257) –

Having said that, Mahāli, this was the deed done by Sakka when he was Magha the young man, he was then asked again, "How, venerable sir, did Magha behave?" Wishing to hear about his conduct in detail, he was asked, and after saying "Then listen, Mahāli," he related the past:

In the past, in the kingdom of Magadha, in the village of Macala, a young man named Magha went to a place where communal work was being done and, having cleared away the dust with his foot, made a pleasant spot and stood there. Another man struck him with his arm, drove him away from there, and stood there himself. Without getting angry at him, he made another place pleasant and stood there. Again, another man came, struck him with his arm, drove him away, and stood there himself. Without getting angry even at him, he made another place pleasant and stood there. Thus, each man who came out of his house drove him away from the spot where he was standing by striking him with his arm. He thought, "All these people have become happy because of me; this deed must be a meritorious deed that brings happiness to me," and the next day, taking a hoe, he made a space the size of a threshing floor pleasant. All went and stood there. Then, in the cold season, he made a fire for them and gave it to them, and in the hot season, he gave them water. Then he thought, "A pleasant place is dear to everyone; there is no one to whom it is not dear. From now on, it is fitting for me to wander about making the road level," and going out early in the morning, he would wander about leveling the road, cutting down branches of trees that were fit to be removed. Then another man saw him and said, "Friend, what are you doing?" "I am making a road for myself to go to heaven, friend." "Then I will be your companion." "Be so, friend, heaven is pleasing to many and full of happiness." From then on, there were two people. Seeing them, and asking and hearing in the same way, another became their companion; in this way, one after another, all thirty-three people were formed. All of them, with hoes and other implements in their hands, would go about leveling the road for a distance of one or two yojanas.

Seeing them, the village headman thought, "These men are engaged in something useless. If they were to bring fish, meat, and the like from the forest, or make liquor and drink it, or do some other such thing, I too would get something." Then he had them summoned and asked, "What are you doing as you go about?" "The road to heaven, master." "It is not fitting for householders to do this; it is fitting to bring fish, meat, and the like from the forest, to make liquor and drink it, and to do various kinds of work." They rejected his words, and even when told again and again, they kept rejecting them. He, angry, thinking, "I will destroy them," went to the king and said, "I see those thieves going about with a gang." When told, "Go, bring them here," he did so, and having bound all of them, brought them and showed them to the king. The king, without investigating, ordered, "Have them trampled by an elephant." Magha gave advice to the others: "Friends, there is no refuge for us other than loving-kindness. Without being angry anywhere, be of even mind with a mind of loving-kindness towards the king, the village headman, the elephant that tramples, and yourselves." They did so. Then, by the power of their loving-kindness, the elephant did not even dare to approach them. Hearing of this matter, the king thought, "Having seen many people, it will not dare to trample them? Go, cover them with a mat and have them trampled." Even when they were being led to be trampled after being covered with a mat, the elephant retreated from afar.

Hearing that event, the king, thinking, "There must be a reason here," had them summoned and asked, "Fathers, why do you not get anything through me?" "What is that, lord?" "It seems that you go about in the forest as thieves with a gang." "Who says so, lord?" "The village headman, fathers." "We are not thieves, lord; we, however, are purifying our own road to heaven and are doing this and that. The village headman, wishing to destroy us because we did not do his bidding by employing us in unwholesome activities, spoke thus in anger." Then, having heard their words, the king became delighted and said, "Fathers, this animal knows your virtues; I, being a human being, was not able to know them; forgive me." And having said this, he gave the village headman, along with his wife and children, to them as slaves, the elephant as a mount, and that village to be enjoyed as they pleased. They, thinking, "The benefit of our meritorious deed is seen here itself," became exceedingly pleased in mind, and while riding that elephant in turn, they deliberated, "Now we must do even more merit; what shall we do? We will build a rest-house for the public at the crossroads after making it permanent." They summoned a carpenter and started a hall. However, because they lacked interest in women, they did not give women a share in that hall.

Sudhammā, having joined with the carpenter, gave him a bribe, saying, "Brother, make me the chief patron of this hall." He agreed, saying, "Good," and first seasoned the tree for the corner post, trimmed it, pierced it, finished the corner post, carved the letters "This is the Sudhammā Hall," wrapped it in cloth, and kept it aside. Then, after the carpenters had finished the hall, on the day of raising the corner post, they said, "Oh, masters, we have not remembered one thing that needed to be done." "What is that, sir?" "The corner post." "Let it be; we will bring it." "It is not possible to make it now with a felled tree; a corner post that has already been felled, trimmed, pierced, and kept aside should be obtained." "What should be done now?" "If anyone has a corner post that has been finished and kept aside for sale in their house, it should be sought." While searching, they saw it in Sudhammā's house and could not obtain it for a thousand pieces. However, when she was told, "If you give us a share in the hall, we will give it," they said, "We do not give women a share."

Nandā thought, "These men, while building the hall, have made us without a share, but Sudhammā, through her cleverness, has made a corner post and has become a sharer; I too should do something; what shall I do?" Then it occurred to her, "It is fitting to obtain drinking water and bathing water for those who come to the hall; I will have a pond dug." She had a pond dug. Cittā thought, "Sudhammā has given a corner post, Nandā has had a pond dug; I too should do something; what shall I do?" Then it occurred to her, "It is fitting for those who come to the hall to drink water, bathe, and wear garlands when they leave; I will have a flower garden made." She had a beautiful flower garden made. In general, in that garden, there was no tree that was not a flowering or fruit-bearing tree.

Sujā, however, thinking, "I am Magha's maternal aunt's daughter and his foot-attendant, the deed done by him is mine, and the deed done by me is his," without doing anything, she spent her time adorning herself. Magha too, fulfilling these seven vows—support of parents, respect for elders in the family, truthful speech, non-harsh speech, non-divisive speech, overcoming stinginess, and non-anger—

"A mortal who supports his parents,

"Devoted to overcoming stinginess, truthful,
A man who conquers anger:
The Tāvatiṃsa gods call him
A 'good person.'" (saṃ. ni. 1.257) –

Thus, attaining a state worthy of praise, at the end of his life, he was reborn in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven as Sakka, the divine king; those companions of his were reborn there in the same place, and the carpenter was reborn as Vissakamma, the son of a deva. At that time, Asuras lived in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven. Thinking, "New sons of the devas have been born," they prepared divine drink. Sakka gave a signal to his retinue not to let anyone drink. The Asuras drank the divine drink and became intoxicated. Sakka, thinking, "What is the use of a kingdom shared with these people?" gave a signal to his retinue, had them seized by their feet, and threw them into the great ocean. They fell into the ocean headfirst. Then, by the power of their merit, an Asura mansion named Asuravimāna arose at the bottom of Mount Sineru, and a Chitta-pātali tree arose.

In the war between the devas and the Asuras, when the Asuras were defeated, the city of the Tāvatiṃsa devas, ten thousand yojanas in extent, arose. The distance between the eastern and western gates of that city was ten thousand yojanas, as was the distance between the southern and northern gates. That city was endowed with a thousand gates, adorned with gardens and ponds. In the middle of it, because of the hall, the Vejayanta palace, adorned with banners three hundred yojanas high, made of seven precious materials, and seven hundred yojanas high, rose up. There were gem banners on golden poles, and golden banners on gem poles; pearl banners on coral poles, and coral banners on pearl poles; banners of seven precious materials on poles of seven precious materials; the banner in the middle was three hundred yojanas high. Thus, because of the hall, a palace a thousand yojanas high, made entirely of seven precious materials, arose; because of the koviḷāra tree, a pāricchatta tree of three hundred yojanas in circumference arose all around; because of the stone slab, at the foot of the pāricchatta tree, a paṇḍukambala stone, sixty yojanas long, fifty yojanas wide, and fifteen yojanas thick, the color of jayasumana red wool, arose. When one sits there, half of the body sinks in; when one gets up, the deficiency is filled.

Hatthi, however, was reborn as a divine son named Erāvaṇa. For in the deva-world, there are no animals. Therefore, when going out for a pleasure-garden excursion, he would abandon his own form and become an elephant named Erāvaṇa, one and a half hundred yojanas in size. For the benefit of the thirty-three, he manifested thirty-three halls, each with a circumference of three gāvutas and one and a half yojanas, and in the middle of all, for Sakka’s sake, he manifested a hall named Sudassana, thirty yojanas in size. Above that was a jeweled pavilion twelve yojanas high. In between, jeweled banners a yojana high arose, made of the seven precious stones. Around the edges hung networks of tiny bells. When stirred by a gentle breeze, a sound like divine song mixed with the sound of a fivefold orchestra would emanate. In the middle of the pavilion, a jeweled throne a yojana in size was prepared for Sakka, and there Sakka would sit. The thirty-three divine sons would sit on jeweled thrones in their respective halls. In each of the thirty-three halls, he manifested seven tusks. Each of those was fifty yojanas long, and in each tusk there were seven lotuses, and in each lotus there were seven lotus stalks, and on each stalk there were seven flowers, and in each flower there were seven petals, and on each petal seven divine daughters would dance. Thus, everywhere in the fifty-yojana space, there were dancing assemblies on the elephant's tusks. Enjoying such great glory, Sakka, the king of the devas, would wander about.

Sudhammā also, having died, was reborn there. For her, a deva-assembly hall named Sudhammā, nine hundred yojanas in size, arose. It is said that there is no other place more delightful than that, and the hearing of the Dhamma takes place there on eight days of the month. Even to this day, upon seeing a particularly delightful place, they say, "Like the Sudhammā deva-assembly hall." Nandā also, having died, was reborn there; for her, a lotus pond named Nandā, five hundred yojanas in size, arose. Cittā also, having died, was reborn there; for her, a grove named Cittalatāvana, also five hundred yojanas in size, arose, where, leading the divine sons who had signs of former evil deeds, they wander about, causing them to be deluded. Sujā, however, having died, was reborn as a female Baka bird in a mountain crevice. Sakka, looking after his attendants, thinking, "Sudhammā was reborn here, as were Nandā and Cittā, but where was Sujā reborn?" saw her reborn there, and thinking, "The fool, having done no merit, is now reborn in an animal womb; now it is fitting to have her do merit and bring her here," abandoning his own form and going to her in disguise, he asked, "What are you doing wandering here?" "Who are you, lord?" "I am your husband, Magha." "Where were you reborn, lord?" "I was reborn in the Tāvatiṃsa deva-world." "Do you know where your companions were reborn?" "I do not know, lord." "They also were reborn near me; you will see those companions." "How will I go there?" Sakka, saying, "I will take you there," placed her on his hand, took her to the deva-world, and releasing her on the bank of the Nandā lotus pond, he announced to the other three – "You will see your companion Sujā." "Where is she, deva?" "She is standing on the bank of the Nandā lotus pond," he said. Those three also went and, making sport, said, "Alas, such is the result of this lady's adornment of her form; now look at her beak, look at her feet, look at her legs, how beautiful her form is!" and departed.

Again, Sakka, going to her and saying, "Have you seen your companions?" When she said, "Having mocked me, they left; take me there!", taking her there and releasing her in the water, he asked, "Have you seen their prosperity?" "I have seen it, deva." "It is fitting that you also should do the means to be reborn there." "What shall I do, deva?" "You will protect the advice given by me." "I will protect it, deva." Then, giving her the five precepts, saying, "Protect them diligently," he departed. From then on, she would eat only self-deceased fish. Sakka, after a few days, going to test her, lay on his back on a sandbank like a dead fish. Seeing him, she recognized him as a "dead fish." While swallowing the fish, he moved his tail. She, thinking "a live fish," released him into the water. After waiting a short while, he again lay on his back in front of her. Again, she, recognizing him as a "dead fish," moved the tip of his tail while swallowing. Seeing that, thinking "a live fish," she released him. Having tested her three times in this way, making himself known, saying, "She diligently protects her virtue," "I came to test you; you diligently protect your virtue; thus protecting, you will soon be reborn near me, be diligent," he departed.

From then on, she would sometimes get a self-deceased fish, and sometimes not. Not getting one, after a few days, she became emaciated and died, and by the fruit of that virtue, she was reborn as the daughter of a potter in Bārāṇasī. When she was fifteen or sixteen years old, Sakka, reflecting, seeing "Where was she reborn?" thinking, "Now it is fitting for me to go there," filling a cart with seven jewels appearing in the color of bottle-gourds, entered Bārāṇasī, driving it, proclaiming, "Take bottle-gourds, mothers and fathers, take them!" To those who came having taken green grams and black grams, he would say, "I do not give them for a price," and when asked, "How will you give them?" he said, "I will give them to a woman who protects virtue." "What is virtue, lord? Is it black, or is it blue, or some other color?" "You do not even know 'what is virtue?', how will you protect it? I will give it to a protector of virtue." "Lord, this potter's daughter wanders about saying 'I protect virtue,' give it to her." She also said to him, "Then give it to me, lord." "Who are you?" "I am one who has not abandoned the five precepts." "These were brought by me for you alone," driving the cart, he went to her house, making it unobtainable by others, and giving wealth like a deva-gift in the color of bottle-gourds, making himself known, saying, "This is wealth for your livelihood; protect the five precepts unbroken," he departed.

She also, having passed away from there, was reborn in the Asura-world as the daughter of the Asura-chief, in the house of Sakka's enemy. However, because of the good protection of virtue in two existences, she was beautiful, golden in color, endowed with extraordinary beauty. Vepacitti, the Asura-king, saying to the Asuras who came, "You are not suitable for my daughter," without giving her to anyone, thinking, "My daughter herself will take a suitable husband for herself," having assembled the Asura army, giving a garland of flowers into her hand, saying, "Take a husband suitable for yourself," At that moment, Sakka, looking at her place of rebirth, knowing that event, thinking, "Now it is fitting for me to go and bring her," creating the appearance of an old Asura, he went and stood at the edge of the assembly. She also, looking here and there, as soon as she saw him, with her heart overwhelmed by a great flood of love born from former association, thinking, "This is my husband," threw the garland of flowers upon him. The Asuras, thinking, "Our king, for so long, not having found a suitable husband for his daughter, has now found one; this old grandfather is suitable for his daughter," feeling ashamed, departed. Sakka also, taking her in his hand, shouting, "I am Sakka!", flew into the sky. The Asuras, thinking, "We have been deceived by the old Sakka!", pursued him. Mātali, the charioteer, brought the Vejayanta chariot and stood in the middle of the road. Sakka, placing her on it there, set off towards the city of the devas. Then, when he reached the Sippalīvana grove, the frightened baby Garuḷas cried out, hearing the sound of the chariot. Hearing their sound, Sakka asked Mātali, "Who are these crying out?" "Baby Garuḷas, deva." "For what reason?" "Through fear of death, hearing the sound of the chariot." "Depending on me alone, may so many birds not be destroyed, crushed by the speed of the chariot; turn back the chariot!" He, giving the signal with the whip to the thousand Sindhava horses, turned the chariot back. Seeing that, the Asuras, thinking, "The old Sakka, fleeing from the Asura city, has now turned the chariot back, surely he has obtained support," turned back and, entering the Asura city by the same path they had come, did not raise their heads again.

Sakka also, taking Sujā, the Asura maiden, to the city of the devas, placed her in the chief position of the three and a half crores of nymphs. She asked a boon of Sakka – "Great king, in this deva-world, I have no mother or father, or brothers or sisters; wherever you go, take me with you." He gave her his promise, saying, "Good." From then on, when the coral-tree flowered, the Asuras, thinking, "It is the time for the flowering of the divine Pāricchattaka tree in our place of birth," ascend to heaven for battle. Sakka gave protection to the Nāgas in the lower sea, then to the Supaṇṇas, then to the Kumbhaṇḍas, then to the Yakkhas, then to the four Great Kings. Above all, however, he placed Vajirahattha Indapaṭimā, with a thunderbolt in his hand, at the gates of the city of the devas, to ward off danger. Even the Asuras, having conquered the Nāgas and so on, seeing the Indapaṭimā from afar, flee, thinking, "Sakka has come out." Thus, Mahāli, Magha the youth, practiced the path of diligence. Thus, being diligent, he attained such power and ruled in two deva-worlds. Diligence is praised by the Buddhas and others. For by relying on diligence, the attainment of all mundane and supramundane distinctions is achieved, saying this, he spoke this verse –

30.

"Through diligence, Maghavā went to the chiefdom of the devas;
They praise diligence, negligence is always despised."

Appamādena: by the diligence done, beginning with clearing the ground in Macalagāma. Maghavā: Magha the youth, now known as "Maghavā," having the kingship of two deva-worlds, devānaṃ seṭṭhataṃ gato: went to the chiefdom of the devas. Pasaṃsanti: the Buddhas and other wise ones only praise and extol diligence. What is the reason? Because it is the cause for obtaining all mundane and supramundane distinctions. Pamādo garahito sadā: negligence, however, is always despised and condemned by those noble ones. What is the reason? Because it is the root of all calamities. For human misfortune or birth in the lower realms are all rooted in negligence.

At the end of the verse, Mahāli the Licchavi was established in the fruit of Stream-entry, and many in the assembled company also became Stream-enterers and so on.

The Story of Magha is the seventh.

8. The Story of a Certain Monk

Appamādarato bhikkhū: The Teacher spoke this Dhamma-discourse concerning a certain monk while dwelling at Jetavana.

It is said that he, after receiving a meditation subject from the Teacher and striving and endeavoring to attain arahantship, was unable to do so. Then he thought, "I will ask for a specific meditation subject," and as he was leaving and coming to the Teacher, he saw a great forest fire blazing along the way. Quickly climbing to the top of a bare rock, he sat down, and seeing the forest burning, he took it as his object: "Just as this fire goes along burning up large and small fuel, so too, the fire of the Ariya Path Knowledge will go along burning up large and small fetters." The Teacher, sitting in the Perfumed Chamber, knowing his train of thought, said, "Even so, bhikkhu, like large and small fuel, subtle and gross fetters arise within these beings; it is fitting to burn them with the fire of knowledge and make them incapable of future existence," and emitting a ray of light, appearing as if sitting in front of that bhikkhu, spoke this verse of radiance:

31.

"The bhikkhu who delights in diligence, who sees fear in negligence,
Goes forth burning away fetters, subtle and gross, like a fire."

Appamādarato: delighting in diligence, taking joy in diligence, spending time with diligence, is the meaning. Pamāde bhayadassi vā: seeing fear in negligence, seeing the danger in negligence, such as the arising of rebirth in hell; or seeing negligence as the root of those rebirths, seeing negligence as fear. Saṃyojanaṃ: the connection, the bond, the fetter, the means of sinking into the round, the ten kinds of fetters. Aṇuṃ thūlaṃ: both large and small. Ḍahaṃ aggīva gacchatī: just as this fire goes along burning up this large and small fuel. So too, this bhikkhu who delights in diligence, with the fire of knowledge attained through diligence, goes along burning up these fetters, making them incapable of future existence, is the meaning.

At the end of the verse, that bhikkhu, just as he was sitting, burned away all the fetters, attained arahantship together with the discriminations, and coming through the air, praised and extolled the golden-colored body of the Tathāgata, and departed while venerating him.

The Story of One Bhikkhu, the Eighth.

9. The Story of Tissa Thera Who Lived in a Market Town

The Teacher, while dwelling at Jetavana, spoke this Dhamma discourse regarding Tissa Thera who lived in a market town, beginning with Appamādarato.

Indeed, a certain clansman, born and raised in a market town not far from Sāvatthi, went forth in the Teacher’s dispensation, received ordination, and was known as "Nigamavāsitissa Thera," being of few desires, content, secluded, and energetic. He regularly went for alms only in the village of his relatives. When Anāthapiṇḍika and others were making great donations, and when Pasenadi Kosala was making incomparable donations, he did not come to Sāvatthi. The bhikkhus raised a discussion, "This Nigamavāsitissa Thera lives attached to his relatives, arising and getting up; even when Anāthapiṇḍika and others are making great donations, and when Pasenadi Kosala is making incomparable donations, he does not come," and they reported it to the Teacher. The Teacher had him summoned and asked, "Is it true, bhikkhu, that you do so?" When he said, "No, Venerable Sir, I have no attachment to relatives; relying on these people, I obtain just enough food to sustain myself, whether it be coarse or fine. Once I have obtained enough to live on, why would I go seeking more food? But I have no contact with relatives, Venerable Sir," the Teacher, knowing his disposition even by nature, gave approval to him, saying, "Good, good, bhikkhu," and said, "It is not a wonder, bhikkhu, that you are of few desires, having obtained a teacher like me. This quality of having few desires is my lineage, my tradition," and when requested by the bhikkhus, he brought forth the past:

In the past, in the Himalayas, on the bank of the Ganges, many thousands of parrots lived in a certain udumbara forest. There, the parrot king, when the fruits of the tree he lived in were exhausted, ate whatever was left, whether it was a sprout, a leaf, or bark, and drinking water in the Ganges, being extremely content and satisfied, did not go anywhere else. Due to the virtue of his contentment and few desires, Sakka's palace trembled. Sakka, reflecting, saw this and, in order to test him, withered that tree by his power. The tree, broken, reduced to a stump, full of holes, stood making a sound as if struck when the wind blew. Powders came out of its holes. The parrot king ate those, drank water in the Ganges, and without going anywhere else, sat on the udumbara stump, not caring about the wind or heat. Sakka, knowing his extreme contentment, thought, "After having him speak about the qualities of friendship and giving him a boon, I will make the udumbara bear immortal fruit and come." Becoming a swan king, putting the Asura maiden Sujā in front, he went to the udumbara forest, sat on the branch of a tree not far away, and speaking with him, spoke this verse:

"There are trees with green leaves, trees with many fruits;
Why is the mind of the parrot devoted to a dry stump?" (Jā. 1.9.30);

The entire Suva Jātaka should be expanded in the manner it appears in the Navaka Nipāta. Only the circumstances of the origin are different there and here, the rest is the same. The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma discourse, said, "Then, Sakka was Ānanda, and I myself was the parrot king," and said, "Thus, bhikkhus, this quality of having few desires is my lineage, my tradition; it is not a wonder that my son Nigamavāsitissa has few desires, having obtained a teacher like me; a bhikkhu should be of few desires like Nigamavāsitissa. A bhikkhu of this nature is incapable of declining from the qualities of serenity and insight, or from the paths and fruits; rather, he is near to Nibbāna," and spoke this verse:

32.

"The bhikkhu who delights in diligence, who sees fear in negligence,
Is incapable of decline, he is near to Nibbāna."

Abhabbo parihānāya: a bhikkhu of such a nature is incapable of declining from the qualities of serenity and insight, or from the paths and fruits; he neither declines from what he has attained, nor does he fail to attain what he has not yet attained. Nibbānasseva santike: he is near to both the Nibbāna of the extinction of defilements and the Nibbāna without residue.

At the end of the verse, Nigamavāsitissa Thera attained arahantship together with the discriminations. Many others became stream-enterers and so on. Thus, the Dhamma discourse was beneficial to the great crowd.

The Story of Nigamavāsitissa Thera, the Ninth.

The Commentary on the Chapter on Diligence is Finished. The Second Chapter.

3. The Citta Chapter

1. The Story of Meghiya Thera

The Teacher, while dwelling on Cālikā Mountain, spoke this Dhamma discourse concerning Āyasmā Meghiya, beginning with Phandanaṃ capalaṃ cittaṃ.

The Meghiya Suttanta (Udā. 31) should be expanded. The Teacher, however, addressing Meghiya Thera, who had come back unable to engage in exertion in that mango grove due to being assailed by three kinds of thoughts, said, "You have done a very weighty thing, Meghiya, in asking me, 'Wait a moment, Meghiya, until another bhikkhu comes,' and then going away, leaving me alone. A bhikkhu should not be one whose mind is so uncontrolled; the mind is indeed fickle, it is fitting to make it subject to one's own will," and spoke these two verses:

33.

"Flickering, unsteady is the mind, hard to guard, hard to restrain;
The wise one makes it straight, as a fletcher straightens an arrow.

34.

"Like a fish thrown on land, out of its watery home,
This mind flutters, to escape the realm of Māra."

Phandanaṃ: flickering, trembling in various objects such as forms. Capalaṃ: unsteady, not remaining still in one posture, unsteady in one object like a village child. Cittaṃ: consciousness; but it is called "citta" because of its variety of grounds, objects, actions, and so on. Dūrakkhaṃ: hard to guard, difficult to restrain, like a bull eating crops in a place full of crops, difficult to restrain from each suitable object. Dunnivārayaṃ: hard to prevent, hard to restrain, because it is difficult to stop it from going to unsuitable objects. Usukārova tejanaṃ: just as a fletcher, bringing a curved shaft from the forest, removing its bark, smearing it with sesame oil, heating it over a charcoal fire, and pressing it with a tree press, makes it straight, free from crookedness, fit for shooting arrows, and after making it so, shows his skill to kings, great ministers, and receives great honor and respect; even so, the wise, intelligent person, knowing this mind to be flickering and unstable, makes it free from roughness and gross defilements by means of dwelling in the practice of the ascetic practices, anointing it with the affection of faith, heating it with physical and mental effort, pressing it with the tree press of serenity and insight, making it straight, uncrooked, without bias, and after making it so, comprehending formations, splitting the great mass of ignorance, making this distinction – "three knowledges, six supernormal powers, nine supramundane Dhammas" – something held in his hand, he attains the foremost state of deserving offerings.

Vārijovā: like a fish; thale khitto: thrown on land, thrown on land with a hand, foot, net, or other means. Okamokataubbhato: here, both meanings are obtained: "with clothes full of water" (Mahāva. 306), here water is oka; "having abandoned the home (oka), he goes without a home" (Sn. 850), here oka is attachment. Here, "okamokataubbhato," okamokato means from water and attachment. Ubbhato: lifted up. Paripphandatidaṃ cittaṃ: just as that fish, thrown on land after being lifted out of its watery home, flutters about, not finding water, so too this mind, delighting in the five strands of sense pleasure, after being lifted out of that, thrown into the practice of insight to abandon the realm of Māra, being tormented by physical and mental effort, flutters about, unable to remain still. Even so, without abandoning the burden, the wise person makes it straight and workable in the manner described. Another way: this mind, remaining without abandoning the realm of Māra, the round of defilements, flutters about like that fish, therefore māradheyyaṃ pahātave, it should abandon that by which it flutters about, which is the realm of Māra, the round of defilements.

At the end of the verse, Meghiya Thera was established in the fruit of stream-entry, and many others became stream-enterers and so on.

The Story of Meghiya Thera, the First.

2. The Story of a Certain Bhikkhu

The Teacher, while dwelling at Jetavana in Sāvatthi, spoke this Dhamma discourse concerning a certain bhikkhu, beginning with Dunniggahassa lahuno.

It is said that in the Kosala king's territory, at the foot of a mountain, there was a village named Mātikagāma, a densely populated village. Then one day, about sixty bhikkhus, after receiving a meditation subject from the Teacher until arahantship, went to that village and entered it for alms. Then the mother of the one who was the owner of that village, named Mātika, saw them, had them seated in her house, served them with rice gruel and rice with various excellent flavors, and asked, "Venerable sirs, where are you intending to go?" "Wherever is comfortable, great laywoman." She, knowing that they were looking for a place for the rains residence, fell at their feet and said, "If, venerable sirs, you will dwell here for these three months, I will take the three refuges and the five precepts and observe the Uposatha practice." The bhikkhus, thinking, "Relying on her, we will be able to practice liberation from existence without difficulty in seeking alms," consented. She prepared a dwelling place, a monastery, for them and gave it to them.

Living there, they gathered together one day and advised each other, "Friends, it is not appropriate for us to live heedlessly. For us, the eight great hells are like our own home with their doors wide open. Moreover, we have come here after taking a meditation subject from the presence of the Awakened One. Buddhas cannot be pleased by deceitful behavior, even if one walks closely behind them; they can only be pleased by sincerity. Be diligent! Two should not stay or sit in one place. In the evening, during the time of service to the elder, and early in the morning during alms rounds, we will be together; at other times, two should not be together. Furthermore, if a monk is unwell, let him strike the gong in the middle of the monastery, and upon hearing the sound of the gong, we will come and provide him with medicine."

While they were living there, having made such an agreement, one day that laywoman, having obtained ghee, oil, molasses, and so on, surrounded by male and female slaves and workers, went to that monastery in the evening. Not seeing the monks in the middle of the monastery, she asked a man, "Where have the venerable ones gone?" When he said, "They will be sitting in their respective night-lodging and day-lodging places, lady," she asked, "How can I manage to see them?" Then men who knew the monks' agreed-upon practice said to her, "They will assemble upon hearing the sound of the gong, lady." And she had the gong struck. The monks, hearing the sound of the gong, thinking, "Someone must be unwell," emerged from their respective places and gathered in the middle of the monastery. There was not even a pair of people who came by the same path. The laywoman, seeing each one coming alone from each place, thought, "My sons must have had a quarrel with each other." Having venerated the Sangha of monks, she asked, "Have you quarreled, venerable sirs?" "We have not quarreled, great laywoman." "If you have not quarreled, venerable sirs, then why, unlike when you come to our house where you all come together, have you come one by one from each place?" "Great laywoman, we were practicing the ascetic's duty, sitting in our individual places." "What is this ascetic's duty called, venerable sirs?" "We recite the thirty-two parts of the body and establish the arising and passing away in our being, great laywoman." "Is it only appropriate for you to recite the thirty-two parts of the body and establish the arising and passing away in your being, or is it also for us? This Dhamma is not restricted to anyone, great laywoman." "Then, venerable sirs, give me also the thirty-two parts, and teach me the establishment of arising and passing away in my being." "Then learn it, great laywoman." And they taught her everything.

From then on, she recited the thirty-two parts of the body, established arising and passing away in herself, and attained the three paths and three fruits even before those monks. With the paths themselves, she also attained the four paṭisambhidās and mundane abhiññā. Rising from the bliss of the paths and fruits, she looked with her divine eye, considering, "When did my sons realize this Dhamma?" Observing, she saw that all of them were full of lust, hatred, and delusion, and that they had not even a little jhāna and vipassanā. "Do my sons have the supporting conditions for arahantship, or not?" Reflecting, she saw that they did. "Do they have suitable lodgings, or not?" Reflecting, she saw that too. "Do they obtain suitable persons, or not?" She reflected and saw that they did. "Do they obtain suitable food, or not?" Considering, she saw that "they do not have suitable food." From then on, having prepared various kinds of rice gruel, various kinds of snacks, and delicious food, she had the monks seated in her house, gave the water of offering, and instructed, "Venerable sirs, take and partake of whatever pleases you." They took and partook of the rice gruel and so on according to their liking. As they obtained suitable food, their minds became concentrated.

With concentrated minds, they developed insight and soon attained arahantship together with the paṭisambhidās, and they thought, "Ah, the great laywoman has become our support. If we had not obtained suitable food, we would not have had the realization of the paths and fruits. Now, having completed the rains residence and performed the pavāraṇā, we will go to the Teacher." They asked the great laywoman, saying, "We desire to see the Teacher." "Good, venerable sirs," said the great laywoman. Accompanying them, she spoke many affectionate words, saying again and again, "Venerable sirs, please look upon us," and then returned. Those monks too went to Savatthi, venerated the Teacher, and sat down to one side. When they were asked, "Is it tolerable for you, monks? Is it sustainnable? And have you not been troubled by alms-food?", they replied, "It is tolerable, venerable sir, it is sustainnable, venerable sir, and we have not been troubled by alms-food. For there is a laywoman named Mātikamātā who, knowing our inclinations, prepared and gave us food according to our thoughts, thinking, 'Oh, that she might prepare such food for us!'" And they spoke in praise of her virtues.

Another monk, hearing the talk of her virtues and wishing to go there, took a meditation subject from the Teacher, asked the Teacher, "Venerable sir, I wish to go to that village," and left Jetavana. Reaching that village in due course, on the very day he entered the monastery, he thought, "This laywoman knows one's thoughts. And I am weary from the journey and unable to take care of the monastery. Oh, that she might send a man to take care of the monastery for me!" The laywoman, sitting at home, became aware of the matter through her power and sent a man, saying, "Go, take care of the monastery and come back." The other, wishing to drink water, thought, "Oh, that she might prepare sugar-water and send it to me!" The laywoman sent that too. The next day, he thought, "Early in the morning, may she send me rice gruel with melted butter and a topping of spices!" The laywoman did so. Having drunk the rice gruel, he thought, "Oh, that she might send me such a snack!" The laywoman sent that too. He thought, "This laywoman has sent me everything I have thought of. I wish to see her. Oh, that she might prepare delicious food and come herself!" The laywoman, thinking, "My son wishes to see me, he expects my arrival," had food prepared and went to the monastery and gave it to him. Having finished his meal, he asked, "Are you Mātikamātā, great laywoman?" "Yes, son." "Do you know the minds of others?" "Why do you ask me, son?" "You have done everything I have thought of; that is why I ask you." "There are many monks who know the minds of others, son." "I am not asking others; I am asking you, laywoman." Even then, the laywoman, without saying "I know the minds of others," said, "Those who know the minds of others do thus, son." He thought, "This is a weighty matter. Ordinary people think of both good and bad things. If I think of anything inappropriate, she might bring ruin upon me, like seizing a thief with his stolen goods by his hair. It is fitting for me to flee from here." Thinking this, he said, "Laywoman, I am going." "Where, venerable sir?" "To the Teacher, laywoman." "Stay here for a while, venerable sir." "I will not stay, laywoman, I will certainly go," and he left and went to the Teacher. Then the Teacher asked him, "Why, monk, do you not live there?" "Yes, venerable sir, it is not possible to live there." "What is the reason, monk?" "Venerable sir, that laywoman knows all my thoughts. And ordinary people think of both good and bad things. If I think of anything inappropriate, she might bring ruin upon me, like seizing a thief with his stolen goods by his hair." "Thinking this, I have come." "Monk, it is fitting for you to live right there." "I cannot, venerable sir, I will not live there." "Then, monk, will you be able to guard even one thing?" "What, venerable sir?" "Guard your own mind. The mind is difficult to guard. You should control your own mind, do not think of anything else. The mind is difficult to control." Saying this, he spoke this verse:

35.

"The mind is very hard to check, swift, flitting wherever it pleases;
To control the mind is good; a mind controlled brings happiness."

Dunniggahassa lahuno, Yatthakāmanipātino: It falls wherever it pleases. For it does not know what is a place to be obtained or a place not to be obtained, a suitable place or an unsuitable place. It does not consider birth, lineage, or age. It falls wherever it wishes; therefore, it is called "flitting wherever it pleases." Cittassa damatho sādhu: To tame such a mind, to make it well-controlled through the four noble paths, so that there is no further defilement, is good. Why? Because cittaṃ dantaṃ sukhāvahaṃ: A well-controlled mind, free from defilement, brings the happiness of the paths and fruits and the ultimate bliss of nibbāna.

At the end of the discourse, many in the assembled gathering attained stream-entry and so on. Thus, the Dhamma talk was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Teacher gave this advice to that monk and sent him, saying, "Go, monk, dwell right there without thinking of anything else." Having received the advice from the Teacher, that monk went there. He did not think of anything external at all. The great laywoman, looking with her divine eye and seeing the elder, ascertained with her own wisdom, "Now my son has returned, having obtained a teacher who gives advice." She prepared suitable food for him and gave it to him. Having consumed the suitable food, in just a few days he attained arahantship and lived enjoying the bliss of the paths and fruits, thinking, "Ah, the great laywoman has become my support. By relying on her, I have attained release from existence." Then, considering, "In this existence, she has become my support, but when I wander in saṃsāra, has she been my support in other existences as well, or not?", he recollected ninety-nine existences. In those ninety-nine existences, she had been his attendant, but with her mind attached to others, she deprived him of life. The elder, seeing such a fault in her, thought, "Ah, the great laywoman has done a heavy deed."

The great laywoman, sitting at home, considering, "Has my son attained the goal of the ascetic's life, or not?", knew of his attainment of arahantship. Continuing to consider further, [she saw] "My son, having attained arahantship, thinks, 'Ah, this laywoman has become a great support for me.'" [She wondered,] "In the past, has she ever been my support?" She recollected ninety-nine existences and [saw,] "In those ninety-nine existences, I, having joined with others, deprived him of life. Seeing such a fault in me, he thought, 'Ah, the laywoman has done a heavy deed.'" "Has any benefit ever been done for my son while wandering in saṃsāra?" Considering further, she recollected a hundredth existence beyond that, and [saw that] in that hundredth existence, having been his attendant, I gave him the gift of life in a situation where he was about to be deprived of life. "Ah, I have done a great service for my son." Sitting at home, she said, "Reflect further," with extra emphasis. Hearing the sound with his divine ear, he reflected further and, recollecting the hundredth existence, seeing that his life had been given by her, was delighted, thinking, "Ah, a service has been done for me by this great laywoman." He asked her questions about the four paths and fruits right there, and passed away into nibbāna without remainder.

The Story of Another Monk, the Second [Story].

3. The Story of Another Discontented Monk

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma talk, beginning with Sududdasaṃ (Very hard to see), while dwelling at Savatthi, concerning a certain discontented monk.

It seems that while the Teacher was residing at Sāvatthi, a wealthy man's son approached a Thera who was a family mentor and said, "Bhante, I wish to be freed from suffering. Please tell me a way to escape suffering." The Thera replied, "Good, Āvuso. If you wish to be freed from suffering, give a salākabhatta meal, give a pakkhikabhatta meal, provide a vassāvāsika dwelling, give robes and other requisites. Divide your wealth into three parts: with one part, pursue your business; with another, support your wife and children; and with the third, make offerings in the Buddha's dispensation." He, replying, "Sādhu, Bhante," did everything as instructed and then asked the Thera again, "What more can I do, Bhante?" "Āvuso, take the three refuges, undertake the five precepts." Having accepted these as well, he asked further. "Then undertake the ten precepts." "Sādhu, Bhante," he replied and undertook them. Thus, due to gradually accumulating meritorious deeds, he was reborn as Anupubbaseṭṭhiputta. Then, asking again, "Is there anything more to be done, Bhante?", when told, "Then go forth," he departed and went forth. One Abhidhamma-reciting bhikkhu was his teacher. One Vinaya-holding upajjhāya was his preceptor. When this newly ordained bhikkhu came to his teacher, the teacher would explain Abhidhamma questions, saying, "In the Buddha's dispensation, it is fitting to do this, it is not fitting to do that." His preceptor, too, when he came to him, would explain Vinaya questions, saying, "In the Buddha's dispensation, it is fitting to do this, it is not fitting to do that, this is allowable, this is not allowable." He thought, "Indeed, this is a heavy task. I went forth wishing to be freed from suffering, but here there is no place even to stretch my hand. It is possible to be freed from suffering while living at home. It would be better for me to become a householder." From then on, he became discontented and dissatisfied, not reciting the thirty-two parts of the body, not learning the texts, becoming thin, rough, with veins showing all over his body, overcome by laziness, and covered with dirt like a turtle.

Then young novices asked him, "Āvuso, why do you remain standing where you stand, sitting where you sit? You are pale with disease, thin, rough, with veins showing all over your body, overcome by laziness, and covered with dirt like a turtle. What has happened to you?" "I am discontented, Āvuso." "What is the reason?" He told them the whole story. They told his teachers. The teachers took him to the Teacher. The Teacher asked, "Why have you come, bhikkhus?" "Bhante, this bhikkhu is discontented in your dispensation." "Is that so, bhikkhu?" "Yes, Bhante." "What is the reason?" "Bhante, I went forth wishing to be freed from suffering. My teacher taught me Abhidhamma, my preceptor taught me Vinaya, and I thought, 'There is no place here even to stretch my hand. It is possible to be freed from suffering as a householder; I will become a householder,' Bhante." "If you, bhikkhu, are able to guard just one thing, there is no need to guard anything else." "What is that, Bhante?" "If you are able to guard your own mind." "I will be able, Bhante." "Then guard your own mind, it is possible to be freed from suffering." Having given this advice, he spoke this verse:

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"Extremely difficult to see, exceedingly subtle,
Falling wherever it pleases;

Sududdasaṃ: Very difficult to see. Sunipuṇaṃ: Very subtle, extremely refined. Yatthakāmanipātinaṃ: Inclined to fall wherever it pleases in places appropriate and inappropriate to be obtained, without considering birth and so on. Cittaṃ rakkhetha medhāvī: A blind fool or a stupid person is not able to guard his own mind; becoming a slave to the mind, he meets with misfortune and ruin. But only a wise and intelligent person is able to guard the mind. Therefore, you too, guard your mind. For this cittaṃ guttaṃ sukhāvahaṃ brings happiness, that is, the happiness of the path, the fruition, and Nibbāna.

At the end of the discourse, that bhikkhu attained the fruit of Stream-entry, and many others also became Stream-enterers, etc. The discourse was beneficial to the people.

The Third Story about a Certain Discontented Bhikkhu.

4. The Story of Thera Saṅgharakkhita's Nephew

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, beginning with Dūraṅgamaṃ, while residing at Sāvatthi, concerning a bhikkhu named Saṅgharakkhita.

It seems that in Sāvatthi, a man from a good family, having heard the Teacher's Dhamma discourse, went forth and, having received ordination, became a Thera named Saṅgharakkhita, and within a few days, attained Arahatship. His younger sister gave birth to a son and named him after the Thera. This nephew, Saṅgharakkhita, having reached adulthood, went forth in the presence of the Thera himself and, having received ordination, spent the rainy season in a certain village monastery. Having received two vassāvāsikasāṭaka cloths, one seven spans long and one eight spans long, he considered the eight-span one, saying, "This will be for my preceptor," and thinking, "The seven-span one will be for me," after the rains, thinking, "I will see my preceptor," he came along the road, wandering for alms, and entered the monastery even before the Thera arrived. He swept the Thera's daytime dwelling, set out water for his feet, arranged a seat, and sat looking out for his arrival. Then, seeing that he was coming, he went out to meet him, took his bowl and robe, invited the Thera to sit, offering him a palm-leaf fan and giving him water to drink, washed his feet, brought that cloth, placed it at his feet, and said, "Bhante, please use this," and stood fanning him.

Then the Thera said to him, "Saṅgharakkhita, my robe is complete; you yourself use it." "Bhante, from the time I received it, this has been intended for you; please use it." "Let it be, Saṅgharakkhita, my robe is complete; you yourself use it." "Bhante, do not do so; if you use it, it will be of great benefit to me." But the Thera did not agree, even though he spoke to him repeatedly.

While he was standing there fanning him, he thought, "I am the Thera's nephew from when he was a householder, and his saddhivihārika since he went forth, yet my preceptor is unwilling to use it with me. What is the use of my being a Samaṇa if he is unwilling to use it with me? I will become a householder." Then it occurred to him, "Household life is difficult to maintain; how will I live as a householder, what will I do?" Then he thought, "Having sold the eight-span cloth, I will buy a goat. Goats give birth quickly. I will sell each newborn goat, and make capital. Having made a lot of capital, I will bring a wife. She will give birth to a son. Then, having named him after my uncle, I will seat him in a small carriage, and taking my son and wife, I will come to pay respects to my uncle. While coming along the road, I will say to my wife, 'Bring me my son, I will carry him.' She, saying, 'What do you need the son for? Come, pull this carriage,' and taking the son, and being unable to restrain him, will throw him on the wheel track. Then the wheel will go over his body, crushing him. Then I will say to her, 'You never gave me my son, you were unable to restrain him; you have destroyed me,' and I will strike her on the back with a goad."

While he was standing there thinking thus and fanning, he struck the Thera on the head with the palm-leaf fan. The Thera, wondering, "Was I struck on the head by Saṅgharakkhita?", perceiving all that he had been thinking, said, "Saṅgharakkhita, you were unable to strike the mother, what fault is there in this old Thera?" He thought, "Alas, I am ruined! My preceptor knows what I was thinking. What is the use of my being a Samaṇa?" and threw away the palm-leaf fan and began to run away.

Then the young novices and sāmaṇeras ran after him, caught him, and took him to the Teacher. The Teacher, seeing the bhikkhus, asked, "Why have you come, bhikkhus? Have you caught one of your bhikkhus?" "Yes, Bhante, we have caught this young one running away in discontent and have come to you." "Is that so, bhikkhus?" "Yes, Bhante." "Why has this bhikkhu done such a grave deed? Are you not the son of an energetic Buddha? Having gone forth in the dispensation of a Buddha such as myself, were you unable to tame yourself and be called a Stream-enterer, or a Once-returner, or a Non-returner, or an Arahat? Why did you do such a grave deed?" "I am discontented, Bhante." "Why are you discontented?" He told him the whole story, from the day he received the vassāvāsikasāṭaka cloths until he struck the Thera with the palm-leaf fan, and said, "For this reason, I fled, Bhante." Then the Teacher said to him, "Come, bhikkhu, do not think that the mind is of a nature to receive an object even when it is far away. It is fitting to strive to be freed from the bonds of lust, hatred, and delusion," and spoke this verse:

37.

"Far-going, solitary, bodiless,
Dwelling in a cave;

Dūraṅgamaṃ: For the mind has no going and coming in the direction of the east, etc., even by a monkey's thread, but it receives an object even when it is far away; therefore, it is called far-going. Seven or eight cittas cannot arise together, bound to a receptacle, in one moment. At the time of arising, only one citta arises; when that has ceased, again only one arises; therefore, it is called ekacaraṃ. The mind has no bodily form, nor any difference of color, such as blue, etc.; therefore, it is called asarīraṃ. Guhā means the cave of the four great elements, and since it occurs relying on the heart-base, it is called guhāsayaṃ. Ye cittaṃ: Whoever, whether men or women, householders or renunciates, not giving rise to unarisen defilements, abandoning arisen defilements with mindfulness and awareness, saṃyamessanti: will restrain the mind, will make it controlled and unscattered. Mokkhanti mārabandhanā: All those will be freed from the three-fold round of existence, which is called Māra's bonds, because of the absence of the bonds of defilements.

At the end of the discourse, Thera Saṅgharakkhita's nephew attained the fruit of Stream-entry, and many others also became Stream-enterers, etc. The Dhamma discourse was beneficial to the people.

The Fourth Story about Thera Saṅgharakkhita’s Nephew.

5. The Story of Thera Cittahatta

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, beginning with Anavaṭṭhitacittassa, while residing at Sāvatthi, concerning Thera Cittahatta.

It is said that a certain householder from Savatthi, while searching for a lost ox, entered a forest. At midday, having seen the ox and released it into the herd of oxen, and afflicted by hunger and thirst, he entered a monastery, thinking, "Surely, I will receive a meal near the venerable ones." He approached the monks, paid homage, and sat down to one side. At that time, there was leftover rice in the monks' slop bowl. Seeing him afflicted by hunger, they said, "Take this rice and eat." In the Buddha's time, rice with many curries and sauces was available. He took enough to sustain himself, ate, drank water, washed his hands, paid homage to the monks, and asked, "Venerable sirs, did the venerable ones not go to a place of invitation today?" "No, lay follower, the monks regularly receive sustenance in this way." He thought, "Even though we rise and exert ourselves, working constantly day and night, we do not obtain such delicious rice. These monks eat like this regularly! What is the use of my being a householder? I will become a monk," and he approached the monks and requested ordination. Then the monks ordained him, saying, "Good, lay follower."

They gave him the name Citthahattha Thera.

While he was wandering about in this way, his wife became pregnant. On the seventh occasion, having brought some farming tools from the forest and placed the bundle down, he entered the house, thinking, "I will take my robes." At that moment, his wife was lying down, asleep. Her lower garment had slipped off, saliva was drooling from her mouth, her nose was snoring, her mouth was open, and she was grinding her teeth. She appeared to him like an inflated corpse. Gaining the perception of "impermanent, suffering," he thought, "Having gone forth for so long, I could not remain in the monastic life because of this woman." He took hold of the edge of his robe, tied it around his stomach, and left the house.

Then his mother-in-law, who lived in the next house, seeing him going like that, thought, "He must be regretting it. Having just come from the forest, he has left the house with his robe tied around his stomach, going towards the monastery. What could it be?" Entering the house and seeing her daughter sleeping, she realized, "He must have seen her and gone away regretting it." She struck her daughter, saying, "Get up, you cursed woman! Your husband saw you sleeping and went away regretting it. He is no longer yours from now on!" She said, "Go away, go away, mother! Why would he go away? He will come again in a few days." He, while going and saying "impermanent, suffering," attained the fruit of Stream-entry. He went, paid homage to the monks, and requested ordination. They said, "We will not be able to ordain you. Where is your fitness for the monastic life? Your head is like a whetstone!" "Venerable sirs, out of compassion, ordain me just once!" They ordained him out of gratitude. Within a few days, he attained Arahatship together with the discriminations.

Then they said to him, "Venerable Citthahattha, only you would know the time of your departure. This time you have been gone for a long time." "Venerable sirs, we departed when there was the existence of association. That association has been cut off. Now we have become of the nature of not returning." The monks went to the Teacher and said, "Venerable sir, this monk, when spoken to by us in this way, said such and such a thing. He declares something extraordinary. He speaks untruthfully!" The Teacher said, "Yes, monks, my son made comings and goings during the time when his mind was not settled, when he did not understand the true Dhamma. Now his merit and demerit are abandoned," and having said this, he spoke these two verses:

38.

"For one whose mind is unsettled, who does not understand the true Dhamma,
Whose confidence wavers, wisdom does not reach fullness.

39.

"For one whose mind is not steeped in lust, whose heart is unsmitten,
Who has abandoned merit and demerit, there is no fear for one who is awake."

Anavaṭṭhitacittassa: The mind is not fixed or stable for anyone. A person who does not remain in one place, like a gourd placed on a donkey's back, like a stake hammered into a heap of chaff, or like a kadamba flower placed on a bald head—sometimes he is a disciple of the Buddha, sometimes an ājīvaka, sometimes a nigaṇṭha, sometimes a ascetic—such a person is called "one whose mind is unsettled." For that person whose mind is unsettled, saddhammaṃ avijānato: for one who does not understand this true Dhamma, which is the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment, because of limited faith or wavering faith, pariplavapasādassa: whose confidence wavers, paññā na paripūrati: wisdom does not reach fullness in the realm of sense-desire. He shows that if wisdom does not reach fullness even in the realm of sense-desire, how could wisdom in the realm of form, formless realm, or supramundane realm reach fullness? Anavassutacittassa: whose mind is not steeped in lust. Ananvāhatacetaso: In the passage where it comes "one whose mind is smitten is of obstructed mind" (dī. ni. 3.319; vibha. 941; ma. ni. 1.185), it said that the mind had been struck by aversion, but here it means whose mind is not struck by aversion. Puññapāpapahīnassa: for the khīṇāsava who has abandoned merit and demerit with the fourth path. Natthi jāgarato bhayaṃ: it is said that for the khīṇāsava, there is no fear for one who is awake. He is called "awake" because he is endowed with the five qualities of wakefulness, such as faith. Therefore, for him, whether he is awake or not, there is no fear of defilements because the defilements do not turn back to pursue him. Indeed, the defilements do not follow him because the defilements abandoned by this or that path do not come again. Therefore it was said: "The defilements that are abandoned by the path of Stream-entry, those defilements he does not return to, does not approach, does not come back to. The defilements that are abandoned by the path of Once-returning, Non-returning, and Arahatship, those defilements he does not return to, does not approach, does not come back to" (cūḷani. mettagūmāṇavapucchāniddesa 27).

The teaching was meaningful and fruitful for the great multitude.

Then one day, the monks started a discussion in the Dhamma hall: "Heavy indeed are these defilements, friends! A householder endowed with the potential for such Arahatship, being overwhelmed by defilements, became a householder seven times and ordained seven times!" The Teacher, hearing their talk, went to the Dhamma hall at a pace appropriate for that moment, sat down on the Buddha's seat, and asked, "With what discussion are you gathered here now, monks?" When they said, "With this one, venerable sir," he said, "Even so, monks, defilements are heavy. If it were possible to put these that are endowed with form somewhere, the cakkavāḷa would be too crowded, the Brahma world would be too low, there would be no space for them. They overwhelm even one of such wisdom as I, a thoroughbred man; what to say of others? I myself, relying on half a nāḷi measure of varakacoraka grain and a blunt hoe, have gone forth and left the Order six times." "When, venerable sir? When, O Sugata?" "Listen, monks." "Yes, venerable sir." "Then listen," and he brought forth the past:

In the past, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Bārāṇasī, a certain Kudālapaṇḍita went forth into an external asceticism and, having lived in the Himalayas for eight months, during the rainy season when the ground was damp, he left the Order thinking, "At my home there is half a nāḷi measure of varakacoraka grain and a blunt hoe. May the varakacoraka seed not be lost." Having plowed a place with the hoe and sown the seed, having made a patch, at harvest time he harvested it, kept one nāḷi measure of seed, and ate the rest. He thought, "What is the use of a home to me now? I will go forth again for eight months," and having left, he went forth. In this way, relying on a nāḷi measure of varakacoraka grain and a blunt hoe, he became a householder seven times and went forth seven times. On the seventh occasion, he thought, "I have become a householder and gone forth six times because of this blunt hoe. I will throw it away somewhere." Going to the bank of the Ganges, he thought, "If I see the place where it falls, I might go down and pick it up. I will throw it in such a way that I do not see the place where it falls." He tied the nāḷi measure of seed in a rag and tied the rag to the blade of the hoe. Taking hold of the hoe by the end of its handle and standing on the bank of the Ganges, he closed his eyes, whirled it above his head three times, threw it into the Ganges, and turning back, without seeing the place where it fell, he shouted three times, "I have won! I have won!"

At that moment, the king of Bārāṇasī, having suppressed the border region and come back, had his camp set up on the bank of the river for bathing and heard that sound. "I have won!" is not a pleasing sound to kings. He went to him and asked, "I have just now come having crushed the enemy, saying, 'I have won!' But you are shouting, 'I have won! I have won!' What is that?" Kudālapaṇḍita said, "You have conquered external thieves, but what you have won will be conquered again. But I have conquered the internal thief of greed, and he will not conquer me again. That victory is good," and having said this, he spoke this verse:

"That is not a good victory, the victory by which one is defeated again;
But that is truly a good victory, the victory by which one is not defeated." (jā. 1.1.70);

At that very moment, looking at the Ganges and developing the water kasiṇa, having attained special attainments, he sat cross-legged in the sky. The king, having heard the Dhamma talk of the great man, paid homage and requested ordination, and went forth together with his army. There was a following of one yojana. Another border king, having heard of his going forth, thinking, "I will seize his kingdom," came and, seeing such a prosperous city empty, thought, "The king who abandoned such a city will not go forth in an inferior place. It is fitting for me to go forth as well," and having gone there, he approached the great man and requested ordination, and went forth with his retinue. In this way, seven kings went forth. There was an hermitage of seven yojanas. The seven kings, having abandoned their possessions and taken so many people, went forth. The great man, having lived the holy life, went to the Brahma world.

The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma talk, said, "I, monks, was Kudālapaṇḍita at that time. Defilements are so heavy."

The Story of Citthahattha Thera is the Fifth.

6. The Story of Five Hundred Monks

Kumbhūpama: This Dhamma talk was spoken by the Teacher while dwelling at Sāvatthī, concerning monks who had aroused insight.

It is said that in Sāvatthī, five hundred monks, having taken a meditation subject from the Teacher for the sake of attaining Arahatship, went a distance of one hundred yojanas, thinking, "We will practice the monastic life," and went to a large village suitable for residing. Then the people, seeing them, had them sit on prepared seats and served them with excellent rice gruel and rice, and asking, "Where are you going, venerable sirs?" When they said, "To a suitable place," they requested, "Venerable sirs, dwell here for these three months. We also, establishing ourselves in the refuges in your presence, will observe the five precepts." Knowing their acceptance, they escorted them, saying, "Not far from here there is a large grove. Dwell here, venerable sirs." The monks entered that grove. The deities dwelling in that grove thought, "Virtuous venerable ones have arrived at this grove. It is not proper for us to climb into the trees with our children and wives while the venerable ones are dwelling here." Having come down from the trees, they sat on the ground, thinking, "The venerable ones will dwell in this place for just one night and surely leave tomorrow." The monks, also, on the following day, having gone for alms in the inner village, came back to that same grove. The deities thought, "The community of monks must have been invited by someone for the next day, therefore they are coming back. There will be no departure today. I think they will leave tomorrow." In this way, they stayed on the ground for about half a month.

Then they thought, "Venerable sirs, these monks will likely reside here for these three months. While they are dwelling here, it is not proper for us to climb and sit in our trees. For three months, even finding places to sit on the ground with our children will be difficult. It would be good to do something to drive these monks away." They began to show headless corpses and skeletons in various places for night and day dwelling, as well as at the ends of the walkways, and to make non-human sounds. Diseases such as coughing and colds arose among the monks. They asked each other, "Friend, what ails you?" Saying, "I have a cold, I have a cough," and, "Friend, today I saw a headless body at the end of the walkway, I saw a skeleton at the night dwelling, I heard a non-human sound at the day dwelling. This place is not suitable; it is uncomfortable for us here. We will go to the Teacher," they departed and gradually went to the Teacher, paid homage, and sat to one side.

Then the Teacher asked them, "Monks, were you not able to live in that place?" "Yes, venerable sir, while we were living in that place, such frightening objects appeared, and such discomfort arose that we abandoned that place, thinking, 'This place is not suitable,' and came to you." "Monks, you should go back to that very place." "It is not possible, venerable sir." "Monks, you went without taking a weapon; now, take a weapon and go." "What weapon, venerable sir?" The Teacher said, "I will give you a weapon; take the weapon given by me and go," and said –

"He who is skilled in seeking (his own) good, having attained the state of peace (Nibbāna): He is able, upright, perfectly upright, obedient, gentle, and free from conceit." (khu. pā. 9.1; su. ni. 143) –

Having recited the metta sutta, the Buddha instructed, "Monks, starting from outside the monastery, from the grove, recite this as you enter the inner monastery." After paying homage to the Teacher, they departed and gradually reached that place. Reciting in a group outside the monastery, they entered the grove while reciting. All the deities in the grove, having received thoughts of loving-kindness, came to greet them, inquired about receiving their bowls and robes, inquired about massaging their hands and feet, and arranged protection for them in various places, remaining as if settled oil and incense smoke. There was no sound of non-humans anywhere. The minds of the monks became concentrated. Sitting in their night and day dwellings, they directed their minds to insight, established the arising and passing away in themselves, and developed insight, thinking, "This self is like a pot made by a potter, breakable and unstable." The Sammāsambuddha, sitting in the Perfumed Chamber, knowing that the monks had begun their insight meditation, addressed them, "Monks, just so, this self is like a pot made by a potter, breakable and unstable," and having radiated light, as if standing within a hundred yojanas and sitting before them, he emitted six-colored rays and spoke this verse in a visible form:

40.

"Knowing this body to be like a clay pot, establishing this mind like a city,
Fight Māra with the weapon of wisdom, guard what you have conquered, and be unattached."

Kumbhūpamaṃ: Knowing this body, which is an aggregate of hair and so on, to be like a clay pot, breakable, weak, impermanent and momentary. Nagarūpamaṃ cittamidaṃ ṭhapetvā: A city is strong on the outside, surrounded by a deep moat and ramparts, equipped with gates and watchtowers, well-divided with streets and crossroads inside, and possessing an inner market. Just as thieves come from outside wanting to plunder it but, being unable to enter, are turned back as if striking a mountain, so too, the wise son of good family, having made his mind firm like a city through insight meditation, fends off that Māra of defilements appropriate for each path with the weapon of wisdom, which is insight and the Noble Path, just as one in a city strikes the crowd of thieves with various weapons such as single-pointed darts; that is, he should strike and fight off the respective Māras of defilements. Jitañca rakkhe: And he should protect the young insight that has been won and produced, by frequenting suitable dwellings, climates, food, people, and opportunities for hearing the Dhamma, and by repeatedly entering into meditative attainments and, arising from them, contemplating the conditioned phenomena with a pure mind.

Anivesano siyā: He should be without attachment. Just as a warrior, fighting enemies at the head of the battle, builds a stronghold and, being hungry or thirsty, or if his armor is loose or his weapon has fallen, enters the stronghold, rests, eats, drinks, equips himself, takes up his weapon, and goes out again to fight, crushing the enemy army, conquering the unconquered, and guarding the conquered. If he were to stay in the stronghold, enjoying it, he would hand over the kingdom to the enemy. Just so, a monk can protect the young insight he has gained by repeatedly entering into meditative attainments and, arising from them, contemplating the conditioned phenomena with a pure mind, and he conquers the Māra of defilements by attaining the further paths and fruits. But if he only enjoys the meditative attainments and does not repeatedly contemplate the conditioned phenomena with a pure mind, he cannot realize the paths and fruits. Therefore, while protecting what should be protected, he should be unattached; he should not make the meditative attainments his dwelling place, he should not attach himself to them, he should not be attached; this is the meaning. "Indeed, you too should do this," thus the Teacher taught the Dhamma to those monks.

At the end of the discourse, the five hundred monks, sitting right there in their seats, attained arahantship together with the discriminations, praising, extolling, and venerating the golden-colored body of the Tathāgata, they came forth.

The Sixth Story about the Five Hundred Monks.

7. The Story of the Elder Pūtigattatissa

The Teacher, while dwelling at Sāvatthi, spoke this Dhamma talk, "Aciraṃ vatayaṃ kāyo", concerning the Elder Pūtigattatissa.

Pūtigattatissatthero was the name that arose for him. Later, his bones broke. He became uncared for. His robes were stained with pus and blood, resembling fried cakes. His fellow residents and others, unable to care for him, abandoned him. He lay there, helpless.

For Buddhas, looking out over the world twice a day is unfailing. At dawn, they look out over the world, directing their knowledge from the edge of the universe towards the Perfumed Chamber, and in the evening, they look out, directing their knowledge from the Perfumed Chamber outwards. At that time, the Elder Pūtigattatissa appeared within the net of knowledge of the Blessed One. Seeing the underlying conditions for arahantship in that monk, and knowing, "He has been abandoned by his fellow residents and others; now, he has no refuge other than me," the Teacher emerged from the Perfumed Chamber and, as if wandering for alms in the monastery, went to the fire hall. There, he washed the pot, filled it with water, placed it on the stand, and waited for the water to become hot, remaining in the fire hall itself. Knowing that it was hot, he went and took hold of the edge of the couch where the monk was lying. Then the monks, saying, "Venerable sir, step aside, we will take it," took the couch and brought it to the fire hall. The Teacher had a trough brought, poured hot water into it, had the monks wash the robe in the hot water, and had it dried in a gentle heat. Then, standing near him, he moistened, rubbed, and bathed his body with hot water. As his bath ended, the robe was dry. Then, having him wear that robe, he had the lower garment washed in water and dried in the sun. As soon as the water was removed from his body, that too dried. Having worn one robe and covered himself with another, with a light body and a concentrated mind, he lay down on the couch. The Teacher, standing at his head, said, "Monk, this body of yours, devoid of consciousness and useless, will lie on the earth like a discarded log," and spoke this verse:

41.

"Soon, alas, this body will lie on the earth,
Discarded, devoid of consciousness, useless like a rotten log."

Aciraṃ vatā: Monk, in no long time ayaṃ kāyo pathaviṃ adhisessati, this body will lie upon this earth that lies in its natural state. Chuddho: He shows that it will lie discarded, being empty due to the absence of consciousness. Like what? Niratthaṃva kaliṅgaraṃ: Like a useless, worthless piece of wood. People desiring timber enter the forest and cut straight trees for straight shapes and crooked trees for crooked shapes, taking the timber. But they cut off and leave behind the hollow, rotten, unsound, and knotted parts. There is no one else who comes and takes them. They look and take only what is useful to themselves; the rest remains on the earth. But even that could be used in some way to make a leg for a couch, a footstool, or a plank seat. In this existence, not even one part of the thirty-two bodily parts can be taken and used as a couch leg or in some other useful way; this body, devoid of consciousness, will lie on the earth in just a few days, like a worthless log.

At the end of the discourse, the Elder Pūtigattatissa attained arahantship together with the discriminations, and many others became stream-enterers and so on. The Elder also passed away into Nibbāna soon after attaining Arahantship. The Teacher had his funeral performed, took his relics, and had a stupa built. The monks asked the Teacher, "Venerable sir, where was the Elder Pūtigattatissa reborn?" "He has attained complete Nibbāna, monks." "Venerable sir, what was the reason for such a monk, who had the underlying conditions for arahantship, to have a putrid body, what was the reason for his bones to be broken, and what was the cause for him to have the underlying conditions for arahantship?" "Monks, all of this occurred due to the deeds done by him himself." "But what did he do, venerable sir?" "Then listen, monks," he brought forth the past:

In the time of the Sammāsambuddha Kassapa, he was a bird catcher who killed many birds and attended upon the king. He sold the leftovers given to him, thinking, "The remains that are left unsold will become rotten if left; I will break their leg bones and wing bones so they cannot fly away," and he piled them up. He sold them the next day. If he got too many, he cooked them for his own benefit. One day, as he was cooking a delicious meal, a khīṇāsava was walking for alms and stood at the door of his house. Seeing the Elder, he gladdened his heart and thought, "I have killed and eaten many beings, and this venerable one is standing at my door, and there is delicious food in the house; I will give him alms." Taking the Elder's bowl, he filled it and gave him a delicious alms-meal, and after worshiping the Elder with the five-point prostration, he said, "Venerable sir, may you attain the peak of the Dhamma you have seen." The Elder said, "So be it," and gave his approval. "Monks, due to the deed done at that time, this was produced for Tissa. Due to the fluid from the breaking of the birds' bones, Tissa's body became putrid, and his bones were broken. Due to the giving of a delicious alms-meal to the khīṇāsava, he attained arahantship."

The Seventh Story about the Elder Pūtigattatissa.

8. The Story of Nanda the Cowherd

Diso disaṃ (An enemy to an enemy): The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse while dwelling at Sāvatthi, concerning Nanda the cowherd in the Kosala country.

It seems that in Sāvatthi, Nanda, a cowherd of Anāthapiṇḍika the householder, looked after the cattle. He was wealthy, affluent, and possessed great riches. Just as Keṇiya the ascetic maintained his livelihood through asceticism, similarly, he, as a cowherd, protected his family while avoiding the royal tax. From time to time, taking the five products of the cow, he would come to Anāthapiṇḍika, see the Teacher, listen to the Dhamma, and request the Teacher to come to his dwelling place. The Teacher, awaiting the ripening of his knowledge, came and, knowing his readiness, one day while wandering on tour surrounded by a large Saṅgha of monks, left the road and sat at the foot of a certain tree near his dwelling. Nanda, without going to the Teacher, paid homage, exchanged friendly greetings, invited the Teacher, and for a week offered excellent food of the five cow products to the Saṅgha of monks with the Buddha at its head. On the seventh day, the Teacher, having given thanks, gave a progressive talk, beginning with talk on giving. At the conclusion of the talk, Nanda the cowherd, established in the fruit of Stream-entry, taking the Teacher’s bowl, followed the Teacher for a distance, and being told, "Stay here, lay follower," he paid homage and turned back. Then a hunter shot and killed him. Monks, coming behind, saw him and went to the Teacher and said, "Nanda, venerable sir, the cowherd, having given a great gift because of your coming here, was killed while returning after following you. If you had not come, his death would not have occurred." The Teacher said, "Monks, even if I had not come, there is no way for him to escape death, even if he went to the four directions and the four intermediate directions. For what neither thieves nor enemies do, that is done by his own wrongly directed mind, corrupted within." Saying this, he spoke this verse:

42.

"What an enemy might do to an enemy,
Or a foe to a foe,
The mind, if wrongly directed,
Can do one far greater harm."

Diso disaṃ (An enemy to an enemy): a thief to a thief. "Having seen" is the remainder of the reading. Yaṃ taṃ kayirā (What might do): whatever harm or misfortune that might do to him. The same method applies to the second line. This is what is said: Just as one treacherous thief harms another by trespassing on his sons, daughters, fields, property, cows, buffaloes, etc., similarly, having seen that thief trespassing on himself, veri vā pana (or a foe), having conceived enmity for some reason, having seen the enemy, whatever harm or misfortune he might do to him due to his own harshness and cruelty, might torment his sons and daughters, or destroy his fields, etc., or even deprive him of life, micchāpaṇihitaṃ cittaṃ pāpiyo naṃ tato kare (the mind, if wrongly directed, can do one far greater harm): because of wrong placement in the ten courses of unwholesome action, the wrongly directed mind does that man greater harm than that. In the ways mentioned, an enemy might cause suffering or bring about the destruction of life for another enemy in this very existence. But this mind, wrongly placed in the courses of unwholesome action, brings misfortune in this very life, and after hurling one into the four woeful states for hundreds of thousands of existences, it does not allow one to lift one's head.

At the conclusion of the discourse, many attained the fruits of Stream-entry, etc. The discourse became beneficial to the great multitude. However, the monks did not ask about the deed done by the lay follower in a previous existence, therefore the Teacher did not speak about it.

The Story of Nandagopālaka the Cowherd, the Eighth.

9. The Story of Soreyya Thera

Na taṃ mātā pitā kayirā (Not a mother, not a father): The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse while dwelling at Jetavana in Sāvatthi, concerning Soreyya Thera.

The story originated in Soreyya City and concluded in Sāvatthi. While the Sammāsambuddha was dwelling in Sāvatthi, Soreyya, the son of a wealthy man in Soreyya City, sitting in a luxurious palanquin with a companion, went out from the city for bathing with a large retinue. At that moment, Mahākaccāyana Thera, wishing to enter Soreyya City for alms, was wrapping his outer robe outside the city. The Thera's body was the color of gold. Soreyya, the wealthy man's son, seeing him, thought, "Oh, how wonderful if this Thera were to be my wife, or if my wife's complexion were like the complexion of his body." As soon as he thought this, his male gender disappeared, and female gender appeared. Ashamed, he got out of the palanquin and fled. His attendants, not recognizing him, said, "What is this?" She also took the road to Takkasilā. Her companion, having searched here and there, did not find her. All bathed and went home. When asked, "Where is the wealthy man's son?" they said, "We thought he had bathed and gone home." Then his parents, searching for him here and there and not finding him, wept and lamented, and thinking, "He must be dead," gave a death feast. She saw a caravan going to Takkasilā and followed behind the palanquin.

Then the people, seeing her, said, "She is following behind our palanquin, but we do not know who this girl is." She also, saying, "You drive your palanquin, I will go on foot," giving a signet ring, made room in one palanquin. The people thought, "In Takkasilā there is no wife for our wealthy man's son, we will tell him, there will be a great gift for us." Going home, they said, "Master, we have brought a jewel of a woman for you." Hearing that, he had her summoned and, seeing her beautiful and pleasing, suitable to his age, he made her his wife out of affection. For there is nothing unprecedented that men become women or women become men. Men, after transgressing in another's wives and dying, after suffering in hell for many hundreds of thousands of years, coming to human birth, attain womanhood for hundreds of existences.

Ānanda Thera also, an Arahant disciple who had fulfilled the perfections for a hundred thousand aeons, while wandering in Saṃsāra, was born in the family of a blacksmith in one existence. Having committed adultery, after suffering in hell, due to the remaining effect, he became a woman attending to the feet of men in fourteen existences and attained castration in seven existences. Women, however, having done meritorious deeds such as giving, having renounced desire for womanhood, resolving their minds, "May this merit lead to the attainment of manhood," dying, attain manhood, and attain manhood even by being devoted to their husbands and behaving properly towards them.

However, this wealthy man's son, having produced an inappropriate thought towards the Thera, attained womanhood in this very existence. Having lived with the wealthy man's son in Takkasilā, a fetus was established in her womb. After ten months, she gave birth to a son and obtained another son while going on foot. Thus, there were two sons born from her womb and two born in relation to her in Soreyya City, making a total of four sons. At that time, the wealthy man's son, her companion from Soreyya City, having gone to Takkasilā with five hundred carts, entered the city sitting in a luxurious palanquin. Then she, opening the window on the upper floor of the palace, looking into the inner street, saw him, recognized him, sent a maid, summoned him, seated him on the main floor, and showed great honor and respect. Then he said to her, "Good lady, we have never seen you before, and yet you show us great honor, do you know us?" "Yes, lord, I know you, are you not from Soreyya City?" "Yes, good lady." She asked about the health of his parents, wife, and sons. The other, saying, "Yes, good lady, they are healthy," asked, "Do you know them?" "Yes, lord, I know them. They have a son, where is he, lord?" "Good lady, do not speak of this, one day we went out to bathe sitting in a luxurious palanquin with him, we do not know his whereabouts, having searched here and there and not seeing him, we informed his parents, they wept and wailed and performed his funeral rites." "I am he, lord." "Go away, good lady, what are you saying? My friend was a man like a young god." "Let it be, lord, I am he." "Then what is this?" "That day your venerable Mahākaccāyana Thera was seen?" "Yes, he was seen." I, looking at venerable Mahākaccāyana Thera, thought, "Oh, how wonderful if this Thera were to be my wife, or if my wife's complexion were like the complexion of his body." At the moment of thinking, my male gender disappeared, and female gender appeared. Then, ashamed, unable to say anything to anyone, I fled from there and came here, lord."

"Oh, what a terrible deed you have done, why did you not tell me? Moreover, has the Thera been asked for forgiveness?" "He has not been asked for forgiveness, lord. Do you know where the Thera is?" "He lives near this very city." "If he comes here wandering for alms, I will give alms to my venerable one, lord." "Then quickly prepare the offering, we will ask our venerable one for forgiveness." He went to the Thera's dwelling, paid homage, and sitting to one side, said, "Venerable sir, accept alms from me tomorrow." "Are you not a visitor, wealthy man's son?" "Venerable sir, do not ask about our being a visitor, accept alms from me tomorrow." The Thera consented, and great honor was prepared for the Thera in the house. The Thera went to that house door the next day. Then, having seated him and served him with excellent food, the wealthy man's son, taking that woman, made her lie down at the Thera's feet and said, "Venerable sir, forgive my companion." "What is this?" "Venerable sir, this one, having been my dear friend before, having looked at you, thought thus, then his male gender disappeared, and female gender appeared, forgive him, venerable sir." "Then get up, I forgive you." As soon as the Thera said, "I forgive," the female gender disappeared, and the male gender appeared.

He became known as Soreyya Thera. The people of the country, knowing that event, disturbed and curious, approached him and asked, "Is it true, venerable sir?" "Yes, friends." "Venerable sir, can such a thing happen?" "Two sons were born in your womb, and two were born in relation to you, which of them do you have a stronger affection for?" "For those who lived in the womb, friends." Those who came again and again asked the same thing repeatedly.

The Thera, repeatedly saying, "Affection is stronger for those who lived in the womb," feeling ashamed, sits alone, stands alone. Thus, having attained solitude, developing the arising and passing away in his own existence, he attained Arahatship together with the discriminations. Then those who came again and again asked him, "Venerable sir, did it really happen like that?" "Yes, friends." "Which affection is stronger?" "I have no affection anywhere." The monks said, "This one is speaking falsely, having said in previous days, 'Affection is stronger for the sons who lived in the womb,' now he says, 'I have no affection anywhere,' he is contradicting himself, venerable sir." The Teacher said, "No, monks, my son is not contradicting himself, from the time the path was seen by my son with a rightly directed mind, no affection has arisen anywhere. What neither mother nor father can give, that is given to these beings by the rightly directed mind which is active within." Saying this, he spoke this verse:

43.

"Not a mother, not a father, nor any other relative,
Can do so much for one as a rightly directed mind."

Na tanti that cause, neither mother would do, nor father, nor other relatives. Sammāpaṇihitanti well-established in the ten wholesome courses of action. Seyyaso naṃ tato kareti from that cause, a better, more excellent thing he would do; that is, he would accomplish. Parents, giving wealth to their children, can only provide wealth for a comfortable life in one existence without having to work. Even Visakha’s parents were very wealthy, of great fortune, and they gave her wealth for a comfortable life in just one existence. But even parents capable of giving the sovereignty of a world-ruler in the four continents do not exist for their children, let alone the gift of divine fortune or the fortune of the first jhāna and so on; there is no question of giving supramundane fortune, but a well-directed mind can give all that fortune. Therefore it was said, “A better thing he would do from that.”

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruits beginning with stream-entry. The discourse was beneficial to the great crowd.

The Story of Soreyya Thera, the Ninth.

The Commentary on the Mind Chapter is finished.

The Third Chapter.

4. The Flower Chapter

1. The Story of the Five Hundred Monks Addicted to Earth-Talk

Who shall overcome this earthti this Dhamma talk, the Teacher, while dwelling at Savatthi, gave concerning five hundred monks addicted to earth-talk.

They, having journeyed with the Blessed One on tour through the countryside, came to Jetavana, and seated in the service hall in the evening, they engaged in earth-talk about the places they had been, saying, "At such-and-such a place on the way from such-and-such a village, it was even, uneven, very muddy, very gravelly, black soil, red soil." The Teacher came and asked, "With what talk, monks, are you now seated together?" When they said, "Venerable Sir, with earth-talk about the places we have traveled," He said, "Monks, this is outer earth; you should work on the inner earth," and having said this, He spoke these two verses:

44.

"Who shall overcome this earth,
And this world of Yama with its devas?
Who shall pick out the well-taught path of Dhamma,
As a skilled gardener a flower?

45.

"The learner shall overcome this earth,
And this world of Yama with its devas;
The learner shall pick out the well-taught path of Dhamma,
As a skilled gardener a flower."

Ko imanti who, this, the earth consisting of the aggregate of existence. Vicessatīti will examine with his knowledge, will understand, will penetrate, will realize, is the meaning. Yamalokañcāti and the four kinds of realms of woe. Imaṃ sadevakanti who will examine, understand, penetrate, realize this human world with its world of devas, is the question. Ko dhammapadaṃ sudesitanti who, the well-taught path of Dhamma consisting of the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment, well-taught because it is spoken according to its own nature, kusalo skilled, like a gardener, pupphaṃ flower, while picking out, ko pacessati will pick out, will understand, will investigate, will penetrate, will realize, is the meaning. Sekhoti because of learning these three trainings, namely, the training in higher morality (adhisīlasikkhā), the training in higher mind (adhicittasikkhā), the training in higher wisdom (adhipaññāsikkhā), the seven kinds of learners (sekho), beginning with one established in the path of stream-entry up to one established in the path of arahantship, will examine, understand, penetrate, realize this earth consisting of the aggregate of existence, removing the desire and lust from it with the path of arahantship. Yamalokañcāti and that world of Yama in the way that has been stated, and this human world with the devas, sadevakaṃ, he himself will examine, understand, penetrate, realize. Sekhoti the seven kinds of learners themselves, just as a skilled gardener, entering a flower garden, would reject flowers that are young buds, those withered by hand, those that are faded, and those that are knotted, and would pick out only those that are beautiful and well-grown, so too, this well-spoken, well-defined path of the factors of enlightenment he will pick out, investigate, penetrate, realize with wisdom, thus the Teacher himself explained the question.

At the end of the discourse, all five hundred monks attained arahantship together with the discriminations. The Dhamma talk was also beneficial to the assembled company.

The Story of the Five Hundred Monks Addicted to Earth-Talk, the First.

2. The Story of the Thera Whose Meditation Subject was a Mirage

Pheṇūpamanti this Dhamma talk, the Teacher, while dwelling at Savatthi, gave concerning a certain monk whose meditation subject was a mirage.

That monk, having taken a meditation subject from the Teacher, thinking, "I will practice the ascetic's duty," went into the forest, but failing to attain arahantship though striving and exerting himself, thinking, "I will ask for a special meditation subject," as he was coming to the Teacher, he saw a mirage on the road and, thinking, "Just as this mirage that has arisen in the hot season appears as having form to those standing far away, but does not appear to those coming near, so too this aggregate of existence is of such a nature by way of arising and passing away," developing the mirage meditation subject, he came, and tired from the journey, bathed in the Aciravati River and, sitting in the shade of a tree on a bank with a strong current, seeing the large masses of foam breaking up due to the force of the water current, he grasped the object, thinking, "This aggregate of existence too is just of such a nature by way of arising and breaking up." The Teacher, standing in the Perfumed Chamber, seeing that thera, said, "Even so, monk, even so, this aggregate of existence is just of such a nature, like a mass of foam, like a mirage, just of the nature of arising and breaking up," and spoke this verse:

46.

"Knowing this body to be like foam,
Awakening to its nature as a mirage,
Cutting off the flower-tipped arrows of Mara,
One should go beyond sight of the King of Death."

pheṇūpamanti having known this body, consisting of a collection of hairs and so on, to be similar to a mass of foam because of its weakness, its frailty, its unsubstantiality, its impermanence, its temporary nature. Marīcidhammanti just as a mirage seems to have form, seems to be something that can be grasped to those standing far away, but becomes empty, void, something that cannot be grasped to those approaching near, even so, this body too is of the nature of a mirage by way of momentary, fleeting arising; abhisambudhāno understanding, knowing, is the meaning. Mārassa papupphakānīti having cut off with the Noble Path the rounds in the three realms, which are Mara's flower-tipped arrows, the arahant, the one with taints destroyed, should go to the beyond sight of the King of Death, to the deathless great Nibbana.

At the end of the verse, the thera, having attained arahantship together with the discriminations, came praising, extolling, and honoring the Teacher's golden-colored body.

The Story of the Thera Whose Meditation Subject was a Mirage, the Second.

3. The Story of Viṭaṭūbha

Pupphāniheva pacinantanti this Dhamma talk, the Teacher, while dwelling at Savatthi, gave concerning Viṭaṭūbha, who was killed together with his company by a great flood.

Pasenadikumāro, Prince Pasenadi, having shown his skill to his father, was consecrated in the kingdom by his pleased father. Mahālikumāro, Prince Mahali, showing his skill to the Licchavis, showed it with great effort; his eyes were injured and failed. The Licchavi kings, thinking, "Alas, our teacher has met with the loss of his eyes; we will not abandon him, we will support him," gave him one door with a hundred thousand as its value. Relying on that, he lived teaching skill to five hundred Licchavi royal princes. Bandhulakumāro, Bandhula-kumara, taking sixty bamboo canes, placing an iron rod in the middle, having the sixty bundles raised and placed by the Malla royal families, when told, "Fashion these," would go soaring eighty cubits into the sky and cut them with his sword. In the final bundle, hearing the sound "kirī" from the iron rod, he asked, "What is that?" and knowing that iron rods had been placed in all the bundles, throwing away his sword, weeping, he told his parents, "Not even one of my relatives and friends lovingly told me this reason. If I had known, I would have cut them without causing the sound of the iron rod," and saying, "Let me kill all of these and rule the kingdom," he told his parents. Prevented by them in various ways, saying, "This is ancestral rule, dear, it is not possible to do so," he went to Savatthi, thinking, "Then I will go to my friend."

King Pasenadi Kosala, hearing of his arrival, went out to meet him and having brought him into the city with great honor, placed him in the position of commander-in-chief. He had his parents summoned and settled there. Then one day the king, standing on the upper story of his palace, looking out over the road between the houses, seeing thousands of monks constantly going to the houses of "Anathapindika, Cūḷa-Anathapindika, Visakha, Suppavasa" for the sake of the meal duty, asked, "Where are these venerable ones going?" When he was told, "Your Majesty, two thousand monks daily go to Anathapindika's house for the sake of regular meals, lot meals, sick meals, and so on, five hundred go to Cūḷa-Anathapindika's house, likewise to Visakha's and to Suppavasa's," wishing to support the Sangha of monks himself, he went to the monastery, invited the Teacher together with a thousand monks, and having given alms with his own hand for a week, on the seventh day, having honored the Teacher, he said, "Venerable Sir, please accept alms from me constantly together with five hundred monks." "Great King, Buddhas do not constantly accept alms in one place, many people are hoping for the arrival of the Buddhas." "Then please send one monk constantly." The Teacher made Ananda Thera responsible. When the Sangha of monks arrived, the king, taking a bowl, without considering, "Let these distribute," himself served for a week, but on the eighth day he made an error due to a distracted mind. In the royal family, without authorization, they are not allowed to set out seats and have the monks sit and serve them. "We will not be able to stay here," many monks left. The king made an error on the second day too, and many monks left on the second day too. He made an error on the third day too, then they left, leaving only Ananda Thera. Those with merit are subject to causality, they protect the faith of families. For the Tathagata, Sariputta Thera and Mahamoggallana Thera were the two chief disciples, Khema and Uppalavanna were the two chief female disciples, among the male lay followers, Citta, the householder, and Hatthaka of Alavi were the two chief male lay followers, among the female lay followers, Velukanthaki Nandamata and Khujjuttara were the two chief female lay followers, thus all these disciples, beginning with these eight persons who had attained a higher state, were of great merit and had fulfilled their aspirations because of having fulfilled the ten perfections to some extent. Ananda Thera too, having fulfilled the perfections for a hundred thousand aeons and being endowed with aspiration and great merit, protecting the faith of the family because of his subjection to his own causality, remained. They had only him seated and served.

When the monks had left, the king, coming and seeing the hard and soft foods still remaining there, asked, "Why, venerable sirs, did they not come?" and hearing, "Only Ananda Thera came, Your Majesty," angry at the monks, thinking, "Surely they have made such a cutting off of my meal," he went to the Teacher and said, "Venerable Sir, I had prepared alms for five hundred monks, but it seems that only Ananda Thera came, the prepared alms are still remaining there, the five hundred monks did not give consent in my house, what is the reason?" The Teacher, not speaking ill of the monks, said, "Great King, your majesty's followers do not have confidence in you, therefore they will not have gone," and revealing the reason for not going to families and the reason for going, He addressed the monks and spoke this sutta:

"Bhikkhus, a family endowed with these nine qualities is not worth approaching if not approached, or not worth sitting close to if approached. Which nine? They do not greet one pleasantly when one arrives, they do not address one pleasantly, they do not offer a seat pleasantly, they conceal what they have, they give little even if they have much, they give coarse things even if they have fine things, they give disrespectfully, not respectfully, they do not sit nearby to hear the Dhamma, they do not listen attentively to what is spoken. Bhikkhus, a family endowed with these nine qualities is not worth approaching if not approached, or not worth sitting close to if approached.

"Bhikkhus, a family endowed with these nine qualities is worth approaching if not approached, and worth sitting close to if approached. Which nine? They greet one pleasantly when one arrives, they address one pleasantly, they offer a seat pleasantly, they do not conceal what they have, they give much even if they have much, they give fine things even if they have fine things, they give respectfully, not disrespectfully, they sit nearby to hear the Dhamma, they listen attentively to what is spoken. Bhikkhus, a family endowed with these nine qualities is worth approaching if not approached, and worth sitting close to if approached" (A. Ni. 9.17).

So, great king, my disciples, not obtaining confidence from you, might not have come. For even ancient wise men, though respectfully attended to in a place of distrust, having attained deadly pain, went to a place of trust. When asked by the king, "When, venerable sir?" he brought forth the past:

In the past, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Bārāṇasī, a king named Kesava renounced his kingdom and went forth into the ascetic life. Five hundred men followed him into homelessness. He became known as Kesava the ascetic. But one who had been his barber, not renouncing, became a resident disciple named Kappa. Kesava the ascetic, dwelling in the Himalayas for eight months with his retinue, having arrived at Bārāṇasī during the rainy season to partake of salt and sour things, entered for alms. Then the king, seeing him, pleased, having taken a vow to dwell in his presence for four months, causing him to dwell in the park, himself went to attend upon him evening and morning. The remaining ascetics, dwelling for a few days, disturbed by the sound of elephants and so forth, became discontented and said, "Teacher, we are discontented, we are going." "Where to, good sirs?" "To the Himalayas, teacher." The king took a vow on the very day of our arrival to dwell here for four months. "How will you go, good sirs?" "A vow was given by you without asking us; we are not able to dwell here; not far from here, we will dwell in the place where your news is heard," having paid homage, they departed. The teacher remained behind with Kappa the resident disciple.

The king, having come to attend, asked, "Where are the venerable ones?" "All, saying 'we are discontented,' have gone to the Himalayas, great king," he said. Kappa too, before long, becoming discontented, though repeatedly restrained by the teacher, saying, "I cannot," departed. But not going to the presence of the others, hearing the teacher's news, he dwelt not far away. Later, as the teacher was remembering the resident disciples, a stomach ailment arose in him. The king had him treated by physicians, but the illness did not subside. The ascetic said, "Great king, what do you wish for the subsiding of my illness?" "Venerable sir, if I were able, I would now make you comfortable." "Great king, if you wish for my comfort, send me to the presence of the resident disciples." The king, saying, "Good, venerable sir," having laid him on a couch, dispatched four ministers, headed by Nārada the minister, saying, "Having learned the news of my venerable sir, send a message to me." Kappa the resident disciple, hearing of the teacher's arrival, having gone to greet him, when the others were asked, "Where?" said, "They dwell in such and such a place." They too, hearing of the teacher's arrival, assembled there and gave the teacher hot water and gave fruits and non-fruits. At that very moment, the illness subsided. In a few days, he became golden in color. Then Nārada asked him:

"Having abandoned the lord of men, with all desires fulfilled,
How does venerable Kesī delight in Kappa's hermitage?

"There are savory and delightful roots, fruits, and charming thickets;
Well-spoken words of Kappa, Nārada, delight me.

"You used to eat rice of sāli grain, pure, with meat seasoning;
How do they cover you with unsalted sāmāka and nīvāra grass?

"Whether savory or unsavory, little or much,
Wherever one eats with confidence, confidence is the highest flavor" (Jā. 1.4.181-184);

The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma talk, making a connection in the Jātaka, saying, "Then the king was Moggallāna, Nārada was Sāriputta, Kappa the resident disciple was Ānanda, Kesava the ascetic was myself," said, "Thus, great king, in the past too, wise men, having attained deadly pain, went to a place of trust; I think my disciples do not obtain confidence in your presence." The king, thinking, "It is fitting for me to make confidence with the Sangha of bhikkhus; how indeed shall I do it? It is fitting for me to take a daughter of the Buddha's relatives into my house; thus, with this being the case, 'young boys and novices, being relatives of the Sammāsambuddha' will come constantly to my presence, trusting me," sent a message to the Sakyans, saying, "Let them give me one daughter." And having asked, "Whose Sakyan's daughter?" he ordered the messengers, saying, "Having known, you should come." The messengers, having gone, asked the Sakyans for a maiden. Having assembled, they conferred, saying, "The king is on a side, if we do not give, he will destroy us; nor is he equal to us in lineage; what indeed should be done?" Mahānāma said, "There is a daughter of mine named Vāsabhakhattiyā, born from the womb of my female slave, endowed with beauty, I will give her," and he said to the messengers, "Good, we will give the king a maiden." "Whose daughter is she?" "She is the daughter of Mahānāma the Sakyan, the paternal uncle's son of the Sammāsambuddha, named Vāsabhakhattiyā."

Having gone, they announced to the king. The king, pleased in mind, having made her the eldest of five hundred women, consecrated her in the position of chief queen. Before long, she gave birth to a son golden in color.

Then, on the day of his name-taking, the king sent to the boy's maternal grandfather, "The Sakyan king's daughter Vāsabhakhattiyā has given birth to a son; what name shall we give him?" But the minister who had taken that message was somewhat hard of hearing; having gone, he announced to the king's maternal grandfather; having heard it, he said, "Even without Vāsabhakhattiyā giving birth to a son, she has overcome all the people; now, however, she will be exceedingly dear to the king." The deaf minister, having heard the word "dear" imperfectly, thinking "Viṭaṭūbha," having approached the king, said, "Lord, let them give the boy the name 'Viṭaṭūbha'." The king, thinking, "It will be an ancient name belonging to our lineage," gave that name. Then, when he was a young child, the king, thinking, "I will do what is dear to the Teacher," gave him the position of general.

Growing up with a circle of boys, when he was seven years old, seeing toy elephants, toy horses, and so forth being brought from the maternal grandfather's family of other boys, he asked his mother, "Mother, gifts are brought from the maternal grandfather's family of others; no one has sent anything to me; are you without a mother and without a father?" Then she deceived him, "Good son, your Sakyan kings, the maternal grandfathers, dwell far away, therefore they do not send anything to you." When he was sixteen years old, saying, "Mother, I wish to see your maternal grandfather's family," though restrained, saying, "Enough, good son, what will you do having gone there?" he repeatedly begged. Then his mother agreed, "Then go." Having announced to his father, he departed with a large retinue. Vāsabhakhattiyā sent a message beforehand, "I dwell here happily; let no disrespect be shown to my lord." The Sakyans, having known of Viṭaṭūbha's arrival, having sent the younger boys into the countryside, saying, "We are not able to pay homage," assembled in the assembly hall when he had arrived at Kapilavatthu. The boy, having gone there, stood.

Then, saying to him, "This is your maternal grandfather, good son, this is your maternal uncle," they made him pay homage. He, wandering about, paying homage to all, not seeing even one paying homage to himself, asked, "Is there no one paying homage to me?" The Sakyans, saying, "Good son, those younger boys have gone into the countryside," made a great offering to him. Having dwelt for a few days, he departed with a large retinue. Then a certain female slave, having abused and reviled the seat on which he had sat in the assembly hall, saying, "This is the seat of the son of Vāsabhakhattiyā, the female slave," washed it with milk-water. A certain man, having forgotten his weapon, having returned to take it, hearing the sound of Viṭaṭūbha the boy being reviled, having asked the reason, having known that "Vāsabhakhattiyā was born in the womb of a female slave, on account of Mahānāma the Sakyan," told the force of troops. "Vāsabhakhattiyā is the daughter of a female slave," there was a great uproar. Having heard that, Viṭaṭūbha set his mind, "Let them wash my seat with milk-water for now; however, when I am established in the kingdom, having taken their throat-blood, I will wash my seat." When he had gone to Sāvatthī, the ministers announced that news to the king. The king, angered with the Sakyans, thinking, "They have given me the daughter of a female slave," having cut off the honor given to Vāsabhakhattiyā and her son, gave only as much as was to be obtained from slaves and servants.

He told the Kaṭṭhahāri Jātaka(Jā. 1.1.7). The king, having heard the Dhamma talk, pleased, thinking, "Lineage of the father alone is the standard," gave Vāsabhakhattiyā and her son their former honor.

For Bandhula the general's wife named Mallikā, the daughter of the Malla king of Kusinārā, did not give birth to a son for a long time. Then Bandhula sent her away, saying, "Go to your own family's house." She, thinking, "Having seen the Teacher, I will go," having entered Jetavana, having paid homage to the Tathāgata, standing, when asked, "Where are you going?" said, "Venerable sir, the lord sends me to my family's house." "For what reason?" "Because I am barren, without children." "If so, there is no need to go, return." She, pleased in mind, having paid homage to the Teacher, having gone to her dwelling, when asked, "Why have you returned?" said, "I have been turned back by the Ten-Powered One." Bandhula agreed, "What has been seen will be by the far-seeing one for a reason." Before long, having conceived a womb, when thirst had arisen, she announced, "Thirst has arisen in me." "What thirst?" "Lord, I wish to descend into the consecration-auspicious pond of the gaṇarāja families in Vesālī, and having bathed, drink the water." Bandhula, saying, "Good," having taken a thousand-strength bow, having placed her in that chariot, having departed from Sāvatthī, driving the chariot, entered Vesālī through the gate given to the Mahāli Licchavis. The dwelling of the Mahāli Licchavis was near the gate itself. He, hearing the sound of the bolt of the chariot on the threshold, said, "This is the sound of Bandhula's chariot, today fear will arise for the Licchavis."

The pond had strong security both inside and outside, and a metal net was spread overhead, leaving no opportunity even for birds. However, Bandhula the General dismounted from his chariot, struck the security guards with his cane, chased them away, cut the metal net, bathed his pregnant wife in the pond, bathed himself, re-mounted the chariot, and departed from the city along the same road he had come. Those security guards reported this to the Licchavi princes. The Licchavi princes, angered, mounted five hundred chariots and set out, thinking, "We will capture Bandhula the Malla." They reported this event to Mahāli. Mahāli said, "Do not go; he will defeat you all." But they said, "We will certainly go." "Then, turn back when you see the place where his chariot wheel has sunk into the earth up to the hub. If you do not turn back from there, you will hear a sound like thunder in front of you; turn back from that place. If you do not turn back from there, you will see a hole in the axles of your chariots; turn back from that place; do not go forward." They, not turning back at his word, pursued him. Mallikā, seeing them, said, "Chariots, lord, appear." "Then report to me when only one chariot appears," he said. When all the chariots appeared as if they were one, she said, "Only one chariot-head appears, lord." Bandhula said, "Then take these reins," and giving her the reins, he stood in the chariot and strung his bow, and the chariot wheel sank into the earth up to the hub.

The Licchavis did not turn back even after seeing that place. The other one, going a little further, twanged the bowstring, and it sounded like thunder. They did not turn back even from there, continuing to pursue. Bandhula, standing in the chariot, shot a single arrow, which made a hole in the chariot-heads of the five hundred chariots, piercing the five hundred princes at the place where their girdles were tied and entering the earth. They, unaware of their fallen state, continued to pursue, saying, "Stop, you, stop, you." Bandhula stopped the chariot and said, "You are dead men; I have no battle with dead men." "Dead men are not like us," they said. "Then untie the girdle of the last one," he said. They untied it. As soon as it was untied, he died and fell. Then he said to them all, "You are such, go to your own homes, make whatever arrangements need to be made, instruct your sons and wives, and then untie your armor." Having done so, they all met their end. Bandhula also brought Mallikā to Sāvatthi. She gave birth to twins sixteen times. All of them were brave, strong, and accomplished in all skills. Each one had a retinue of a thousand men. When they went to the royal palace with their father, they filled the royal courtyard.

Then one day, men who had been unfairly defeated in a legal case, seeing Bandhula coming, cried out loudly and reported the unfair judgment of the legal officials to him. He went to the court, investigated the case, and restored the rightful owner to his property. The crowd raised a great shout of approval. The king, asking, "What is this?" and hearing the matter, was pleased and dismissed all those officials, entrusting the judgment to Bandhula alone. From then on, he judged fairly. Then those former judging officials, receiving no bribes and becoming without profit, slandered in the royal court, saying, "Bandhula desires the kingdom." The king, believing their words, was unable to restrain his mind. Thinking, "If he is killed here, criticism will arise for me," he then sent men to attack the border, summoned Bandhula, and, saying, "The border is said to be in turmoil; go with your sons and capture the thieves," sent him, and also sent other capable warriors with them, saying, "Cut off his head here, along with his thirty-two sons, and bring it here." While he was going to that border region, the appointed thieves fled, saying, "The General is coming." He secured and established that region and returned.

Then, at a place not far from the city, those warriors cut off his head along with his sons. On that day, Mallikā had invited the two chief disciples along with five hundred monks. Then, early in the morning, they brought and gave her a letter saying, "The head of your husband has been cut off along with his sons." Knowing that event, without saying anything to anyone, she placed the letter in her lap and served the monastic community. Then, as her attendants were giving food to the monks and bringing a ghee pot, they broke the ghee pot in front of the elders. Dhammasenāpati (Sāriputta) said, "What is subject to breaking is broken; do not be concerned." She, taking the letter from her lap, said, "They brought me this letter saying that the head of my husband has been cut off along with thirty-two sons, and even after hearing this, I am not concerned; why would I be concerned about the breaking of a ghee pot, venerable sir?" Dhammasenāpati, saying, "Uncertain and unknown is the life of mortals here," (SN 579) and so on, preached the Dhamma and rose from his seat and went to the monastery. She also summoned her thirty-two daughters-in-law and advised them, "Your husbands, being without fault, have received the fruit of their former karma; do not grieve, do not lament, do not have resentment towards the king."

The king's spies, hearing that conversation, went and told the king about their innocence. The king, feeling remorse, went to her residence, apologized to Mallikā and her daughters-in-law, and gave Mallikā a boon. She, saying, "Let the boon be taken by me," and after he had left, gave a meal for the dead, bathed, approached the king, and, bowing, said, "Your majesty, you have given me a boon, and I have no other need; allow my thirty-two daughters-in-law and myself to return to our families." The king agreed. She sent her thirty-two daughters-in-law to their respective families, and she herself went to her family home in the city of Kusinārā.

It should be explained according to the dhammacetiyasutta method (MN 2.364 ff). When he entered the Gandhakuti, Dīghakārāyana took those five royal regalia, made Viṭaṭūbha the king, and, leaving one horse and one attending woman of the king, returned and went to Sāvatthi.

The king, having a pleasant conversation with the Teacher, bowed to the Teacher and went out, not seeing the army, and asking that woman and hearing that event, thinking, "Taking my nephew, I will go and capture Viṭaṭūbha," and going to the city of Rājagaha, reaching the city at dusk when the gates were closed, lying down in a hall, exhausted by the wind and sun, passed away there in the night. At dawn, hearing the sound of that woman lamenting, "O king, the Kosalan king has become helpless," they reported it to the king. He had the funeral rites for his maternal uncle performed with great honor.

Viṭaṭūbha also, having obtained the kingdom, remembering that animosity, set out with a large army, thinking, "I will kill all the Sākiyans." On that day, the Teacher, surveying the world at dawn, seeing the destruction of the relatives, thinking, "It is fitting to gather the relatives," having gone for alms in the forenoon, having returned from the alms round, preparing to lie down on his right side in the Gandhakuti, at eventide, going through the sky, sat down at the border of Kapilavatthu at the foot of a banyan tree with sparse shade. Now, there was a large banyan tree with dense shade at the border of Viṭaṭūbha’s kingdom. Viṭaṭūbha, seeing the Teacher, approached, bowed, and, saying, "Venerable sir, for what reason do you sit at the foot of this banyan tree with sparse shade at such a hot time? Sit at the foot of this banyan tree with dense shade, venerable sir," when it was said, "Let it be, great king, the shade of relatives is cool," thinking, "The Teacher must have come to protect the relatives," bowing to the Teacher, he turned back and returned to Sāvatthi. The Teacher also flew up and went to Jetavana.

Remembering the offense of the Sākiyans, the king set out a second time and, seeing the Teacher in the same way, turned back again. Even the third time, setting out and seeing the Teacher in the same way, he turned back again. On the fourth occasion, however, when he had set out, the Teacher, looking at the past karma of the Sākiyans, knowing that the evil deed of throwing poison into the river one day could not be averted, did not come on the fourth occasion. Viṭaṭūbha set out with a large army, thinking, "I will kill the Sākiyans." Now, the relatives of the Sammāsambuddha are called non-violent killers; even dying themselves, they do not deprive others of life. They thought, "We are well-trained, skilled in hand, with uplifted weapons, great archers; it is not possible for us to deprive others of life; we will show our karma and flee," and having made that agreement, they went out and began the battle. The arrows shot by them passed through the spaces between Viṭaṭūbha’s men, exiting through the spaces between shields, the corners of ears, and so on. Viṭaṭūbha, seeing this, said, "Surely they say that the Sākiyans are non-violent killers, but they are destroying my men."

Those who stood holding grass were called tiṇasākiyā (grass Sākiyans), those who held reeds were called naḷasākiyā (reed Sākiyans). Viṭaṭūbha, not sparing even the milk-drinking infants, having them killed, caused a river of blood to flow, and washed the plank with their throat-blood. Thus, the Sākiyan lineage was destroyed by Viṭaṭūbha.

He, having captured Mahānāma the Sakkan, turned back, thinking, "I will have breakfast at breakfast time," dismounted at one place, and when food was brought, he summoned his grandfather, saying, "We will eat together." But Khattiyas, even sacrificing their lives, do not eat with the sons of slave women. Therefore, Mahānāma, looking for a pond, said, "I am with soiled limbs, I will bathe, grandfather." "Good, grandfather, bathe." He thought, "This one will kill me for not eating together; it is better for me to die myself," loosened his hair, made a knot at the ends, placed his foot-toes in his hair, and submerged himself in the water. By the power of his virtue, he showed the nāga-world to be hot. The nāga-king, considering, "What is this?" knowing it, came to his presence, had him sit on his hood, and led him into the nāga-world. He lived there for twelve years. Viṭaṭūbha also sat waiting, thinking, "My grandfather will come now, will come now." When he was too long in coming, having the pond searched and looking even inside the men with a lamp, not seeing him, he departed, thinking, "He must have gone." He reached the Aciravati River in the night and settled the camp. Some lay down on the sandbank inside the river, some on the bank outside; among those lying inside, there were those who had not done evil deeds in the past, and among those lying outside, there were those who had done evil deeds in the past; ants arose in the places where they lay down. They, saying, "There are ants in the place where I lie, there are ants in the place where I lie," rose up, and those who had not done evil deeds climbed out and lay down on the bank, those who had done evil deeds climbed down and lay down on the sandbank. At that moment, a great cloud arose and rained heavily. A flood came in the river and swept Viṭaṭūbha along with his company into the ocean. All of them became food for fish and turtles.

How did the multitude raise the issue? "The death of the Sakyans is unjust; it is inappropriate that the Sakyans should be killed by crushing them like this." Hearing that discussion, the Teacher said, "Bhikkhus, although such a death of the Sakyans is unjust in this existence, it is indeed fitting that they have received this due to their past evil deeds." "What did they do in the past, Venerable Sir?" They all gathered together and poured poison into the river. Then one day, in the Dhamma assembly, the bhikkhus raised a discussion: "Viṭaṭūbha, having killed so many Sakyans and returning, before he reached the peak of his desires, was swept away along with so many people into the great ocean, becoming food for fish and turtles." The Teacher, coming there and asking, "With what discussion are you gathered here now, bhikkhus?" and being told, "With this one," said, "For these beings, before reaching the peak of their desires, the King of Death, like a great flood overwhelming a sleeping village, severs their life force and drowns them in the four destinations of woe," and spoke this verse:

47.

"Gathering flowers only,
The man with mind attached,
Death carries away,
As a great flood a sleeping village."

Byāsattamanasaṃ naraṃ: "The man with mind attached," means one whose mind is clinging to things attained or unattained. The meaning is this: Just as a gardener, having entered a flower garden, thinking, "I will gather flowers," then, taking flowers from here and there, desiring one after another, directs his mind to the entire flower garden, "I will gather flowers from here and there," then, without taking flowers from there, he directs his mind elsewhere, and while gathering those flowers, he falls into heedlessness; in the same way, a certain person, having entered the midst of the five strands of sense pleasure, which are like a flower garden, having obtained a delightful form, desires one of the delightful sounds, smells, tastes, or touches. Another, having obtained one of these, desires another; or, having obtained only form, without desiring another, savors that same one, or one of the sounds, etc. The same method applies to cows, buffaloes, male and female slaves, fields, land, villages, towns, districts, etc., and even for renunciants, to monasteries, dwellings, bowls, robes, etc. Thus, gathering flowers only, the flowers consisting of the five strands of sense pleasure, the man with mind attached, to sense pleasures attained or unattained. Suttaṃ gāmaṃ: "A sleeping village," now, for a village, there is no such thing as sleeping in the sense of the houses, walls, etc., being asleep, but based on the sleepiness and heedlessness of the beings, it is called "sleeping." Thus, Death carries away a sleeping village, like a great flood two or three yojanas long and deep. Just as that great flood, without leaving anything behind among the women, men, cows, buffaloes, chickens, etc., carries that entire village to the ocean and makes it food for fish and turtles, in the same way, Death, taking away the man with mind attached, severs his life force and drowns him in the four destinations of woe.

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruits beginning with Stream-entry. The discourse was beneficial for the multitude.

The Story of Viṭaṭūbha is the Third.

4. The Story of the Worshipful Maiden

Pupphāni heva This Dhamma discourse was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Sāvatthī, concerning a maiden named Patipūjikā (Worshipful). The story originated in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven.

It seems that there, a certain deva-son named Mālabhārī, surrounded by a thousand apsaras, entered a park. Five hundred deva-maidens climbed trees and dropped flowers, and five hundred took the fallen flowers and adorned the deva-son. Among them, one deva-maiden died right on the branch of the tree; her body went out like a lamp flame. She took rebirth in a certain family home in Sāvatthī, and at the time of birth, having the memory of her past life, recalling, "I am the wife of Mālabhārī deva-son," as she grew up, she made offerings with incense, garlands, etc., desiring rebirth in the presence of her husband. When she was sixteen years old, even after going to another family (in marriage), she gave out ticket-food (salākabhatta), fortnightly food (pakkhikabhatta), rains-residence food (vassāvāsikabhatta), etc., saying, "May this be a condition for rebirth in the presence of my husband." Then the bhikkhus gave her the name "Patipūjikā, because this maiden, getting up again and again, only desires her husband." She also constantly swept the assembly hall, provided drinking water, and arranged seats. Other people also, wishing to give ticket-food, etc., would bring offerings and say, "Mother, may you prepare these also for the Saṅgha of bhikkhus." She, coming and going in this manner, obtained fifty-six wholesome Dhammas in one round of alms-giving (Dhs. 1; DhsA. 1, see Evaṃ āpanakavaṇṇanā). A fetus was established in her womb. After ten months, she gave birth to a son. When he was able to walk, she obtained four more sons, one after another.

One day, having given alms, made offerings, heard the Dhamma, and kept the precepts, at the end of the day, having died from some disease that arose at that moment, she was reborn in the presence of her own husband. The other deva-maidens were still adorning the deva-son for that long. The deva-son, seeing her, said, "You have not been seen since early morning; where have you gone?" "I have passed away, lord." "What are you saying?" "It is so, lord." "Where were you reborn?" "In a family home in Sāvatthī." "How long did you stay there?" "Having come out of my mother's womb after ten months, having gone to another family at sixteen years of age, having given birth to four sons, having made donations and other meritorious deeds, desiring you, I have come and been reborn in your presence, lord." "How long is the lifespan of humans?" "About a hundred years." "Only that much?" "Yes, lord." "Having been born with so little lifespan, do humans pass the time sleeping and heedless, or do they do meritorious deeds such as giving?" "What do you say, lord?" "Like those born with an immeasurable lifespan, and like those who are neither aging nor dying, humans are always heedless." A great sense of urgency arose in Mālabhārī deva-son: "It seems that humans, having been born with a lifespan of about a hundred years, lie down heedlessly and sleep; when will they be freed from suffering?" Now, a hundred years for humans is one day and night for the Tāvatiṃsa devas; thirty such nights make a month, twelve such months make a year, and a thousand such divine years is the lifespan; that is three koṭis and sixty hundred thousand human years. Therefore, not even a single day had passed for that deva-son; it was like a moment. Thus, heedlessness is indeed very inappropriate for humans with such a short lifespan.

Another day, the bhikkhus, having entered the village, seeing the assembly hall unswept, the seats unarranged, and the drinking water unprovided, asked, "Where is Patipūjikā?" "Venerable sirs, where will you see her? Yesterday, after the venerable ones had eaten and left, she died in the evening." Hearing that, the ordinary bhikkhus, remembering her kindness, were unable to restrain their tears. A sense of Dhamma urgency arose in the arahants. Having finished their meal duties, they went to the monastery, paid homage to the Teacher, and asked, "Venerable sir, the female lay follower named Patipūjikā, getting up again and again, having done various kinds of meritorious deeds, only desired her husband; where has she been reborn now?" "In the presence of her own husband, bhikkhus." "There is no husband in her presence, Venerable Sir." "Bhikkhus, she does not desire this husband; in the Tāvatiṃsa heaven, she has a husband named Mālabhārī deva-son; having passed away from the place where she adorned him with flowers, she went again and was reborn in his presence." "Is that so, Venerable Sir?" "Yes, bhikkhus." "Alas, how short is the life of beings; having served us in the morning, she died in the evening from a disease that arose!" The Teacher said, "Yes, bhikkhus, the life of beings is indeed short; therefore, before these beings are satiated with sense-objects and defilements, the End-maker, having brought them under his own control, seizes them as they weep and lament," and spoke this verse:

48.

"Gathering flowers only,
The man with mind attached,
Unsated yet with desires,
The End-maker brings under his sway."

Pupphāni heva pacinantaṃ: "Gathering flowers only," just as a gardener in a flower garden (gathers) various flowers, so too (one gathers) the flowers of sense pleasures connected both with one's own existence and with external objects. Byāsattamanasaṃ naraṃ: "The man with mind attached," means one whose mind is attached in various ways, due to desire for things unattained and due to greed for things attained. Atittaṃyeva kāmesu: "Unsated yet with desires," even while searching for, obtaining, enjoying, and hoarding sense pleasures, consisting of sense-objects and defilements, (one is) unsated. Antako kurute vasaṃ: "The End-maker brings under his sway," means the End-maker, known as death, having seized one who is weeping and lamenting, brings him under his own control; this is the meaning.

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruits beginning with Stream-entry; the discourse was beneficial for the multitude.

The Story of the Worshipful Maiden is the Fourth.

5. The Story of Macchariya Kosiya, the Miserly Millionaire

Yathāpi bhamaro pupphaṃ This Dhamma discourse was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Sāvatthī, concerning Macchariya Kosiya, the miserly millionaire. His story originated in Rājagaha.

It seems that not far from the city of Rājagaha was a village named Sakkhara. There lived a millionaire named Macchariya Kosiya, with eighty koṭis of wealth. He would not give even a drop of oil to others with the tip of a blade of grass, nor would he use it himself. Thus, that wealth of his was not enjoyed for the benefit of his sons and wives, nor for ascetics and brahmins; it remained unused, like a pond guarded by a Rakkha (demon). One day, at dawn, the Teacher, arising from the Great Compassion meditation, while surveying the entire world for those who could be guided, saw the potential for Stream-entry in the millionaire and his wife, residing forty-five yojanas away. Now, on the previous day, having gone to the royal palace to attend upon the king, while returning after attending upon the king, he saw a villager, lean and wretched from hunger, eating a broken pot filled with gruel. Thirst arose in him there, and having gone to his own house, he thought, "If I say I want to eat gruel in a broken pot, many people will want to eat with me; thus, my sesame, rice, ghee, molasses, etc., will be depleted. I will not tell anyone," and he went about suppressing his desire. As time passed, he became pale and emaciated, his veins protruding. Then, unable to suppress his desire, he entered his chamber and lay down embracing his bed. Even in that state, fearing the loss of his wealth, he did not tell anyone anything.

Then his wife approached him, massaged his back, and asked, "What's the matter, husband? Are you feeling unwell?" "I don't feel unwell at all," he said. "Could the king be angry with you?" she asked. "The king isn't angry with me either." "Then have your sons, daughters, or servants done something unpleasant?" "Nothing like that has happened either." "Do you have a craving for something?" Even when asked this, fearing the loss of his wealth, he didn't say anything and remained silent. Then his wife said, "Tell me, husband, what do you crave?" He, as if guarding his words, said, "I have a craving." "What craving, husband?" "I want to eat kapallakapūva (pancake cooked on a skull fragment)." "Why didn't you tell me? Are you poor? Now I will bake kapallakapūva enough for all the residents of the town." "What is the use of that to you? They will do their own work and eat." "Then I will bake enough for all the residents of one street." "I know your great wealth." "I will bake enough for everyone in this household." "I know your great generosity." "Then I will bake enough only for our children." "What is the use of that to you?" "Then shall I bake enough just for you and me?" "What will you do?" "Then I will bake enough just for you alone." "If you bake it in this place, many will expect some. Set aside all the husked rice and take the broken rice and the cooking shards, and take a little milk, ghee, honey, and molasses, and go up to the top floor of the seven-storied palace and bake it there. I will sit there alone and eat." She agreed, saying "Good," and having gathered what was needed, ascended to the palace, dismissed the maids, and summoned the seṭṭhi (wealthy man). He, starting from the beginning, closed the doors, placing a needle lock on every door, ascended to the seventh floor, and closed the door there as well and sat down. His wife lit the fire on the cooking shards, placed the pan, and began to bake the pancakes.

Then the Teacher, early in the morning, addressed Mahāmoggallāna Thera: "Moggallāna, not far from Rājagaha, in Sakka Village, the miserly seṭṭhi is having kapallakapūva baked in a seven-storied palace, fearing that others will see him eat it. Go there, tame the seṭṭhi, make him generous, and take both the husband and wife, along with the pancakes, milk, ghee, honey, and molasses, and bring them to Jetavana by your power. Today, I will sit in the monastery with five hundred monks and have our meal with the pancakes."

The Thera, agreeing with the Teacher's words, saying "Good, Venerable Sir," immediately went to that village by his psychic power and stood in the sky at the lion-paneled window of that palace, like a jeweled statue, well-clothed and draped. As soon as the great seṭṭhi saw the Thera, the flesh of his heart trembled. "I have come to this place fearing the sight of just such people, and this monk has come through the sky and is standing at the window," he thought. Not seeing any way to avoid it, sputtering with anger like salt and sugar thrown into a fire, he said, "Ascetic, even standing in the sky, what will you gain? Even walking in the sky, showing footprints, you will not gain anything." The Thera walked back and forth in that very place. The seṭṭhi said, "Walking, what will you gain? Even sitting cross-legged in the sky, you will not gain anything." The Thera sat down cross-legged. Then he said to him, "Sitting in the sky, what will you gain? Even coming and standing on the sill of the window, you will not gain anything." The Thera stood on the sill. "Standing on the sill, what will you gain? Even smoking, you will not gain anything," he said. The Thera then emitted smoke. The entire palace became filled with smoke. It was as if the seṭṭhi's eyes were being pierced with needles, but fearing the burning of the house, without saying, "Even blazing, you will not gain anything," he said to his wife, "This ascetic is very persistent; he will not leave without getting something. Give him one pancake and send him away." She put just a little batter into the shard pan, and it became a huge pancake, filling the entire pan and swelling up.

Seeing that, the seṭṭhi said, "You must have taken a lot of batter." He himself took a little batter with the handle of a ladle and put it in, and the pancake became even larger than the previous one. Thus, whatever she baked became larger and larger. Disgusted, he said to his wife, "Give him one pancake." As she tried to take one pancake from the back, all of them stuck together. She said to the seṭṭhi, "Husband, all the pancakes are stuck together; I cannot separate them." "I will do it," he said, but he too could not do it. Even when both of them grabbed an edge and pulled, they could not separate them. As he struggled with the pancakes, sweat poured from his body, and thirst arose. Then he said to his wife, "I don't need the pancakes; give him the whole pan with them." Taking the pan, she approached the Thera and gave it to him. The Thera preached the Dhamma to both of them, spoke of the qualities of the Three Jewels, and showed the fruits of giving, such as "there is giving, there is sacrifice," like the full moon in the sky.

Having heard that, with a pleased mind, the seṭṭhi said, "Venerable Sir, come and sit on this couch and partake of it." The Thera said, "Great seṭṭhi, the Sammāsambuddha is sitting in the monastery with five hundred monks, thinking, 'I will eat pancakes.' If it pleases you, I will take you there. Have the seṭṭhi's wife take the pancakes, milk, and so on, and we will go to the Teacher." "Where is the Teacher now, Venerable Sir?" "In Jetavana Monastery, forty-five yojanas (an ancient Indian unit of distance) from here, great seṭṭhi." "Venerable Sir, how will we go such a distance without delay?" "Great seṭṭhi, if it pleases you, I will take you by my psychic power. The top of the stairs in your palace will remain in its place, but the end of the stairs will be in the gatehouse of Jetavana. I will take you to Jetavana in the time it takes to descend from the upper palace to the lower palace." He agreed, saying, "Good, Venerable Sir."

It appears as a pancake mountain . The great seṭṭhi, together with his wife, approached the Blessed One, paid homage, and stood to one side. The Blessed One gave a discourse of appreciation. At the end of the discourse of appreciation, both were established in the fruit of Stream-entry, paid homage to the Teacher, ascended the stairs at the gatehouse, and stood in their own palace.

From that time on, the seṭṭhi scattered eighty koṭis (an Indian numerical designation) of wealth in the Buddha's dispensation. The next day, in the evening, monks gathered in the Dhamma Hall and, praising the Thera's qualities, sat down, saying, "Look, friends, at the power of Mahāmoggallāna Thera! Without harming faith or wealth, he tamed the miserly seṭṭhi in an instant, made him generous, took the pancakes, brought them to Jetavana, brought him before the Teacher, and established him in the fruit of Stream-entry. How great is the power of the Thera!" The Teacher, hearing their conversation with his divine ear, came and asked, "Monks, with what conversation are you gathered here now?" When they said, "With this one," the Teacher said, "Monks, a monk who tames families should approach them without harming faith or wealth, without troubling or harassing the family, like a bee taking pollen from a flower, making known the qualities of the Buddha. Such is my son Moggallāna," and praising the Thera, he spoke this verse:

49.

"Just as a bee from a flower, without harming its color or scent,
Flies away, taking only the nectar, so should the sage wander in the village."

Bee: any kind of honey-making creature. Flower: while wandering in a flower garden, without harming or destroying the flower, its color, or its scent, this is the meaning. Flies away: having thus wandered, having drunk the nectar as needed, for the purpose of making more honey, he flies away, having taken it. He, having plunged into a thick forest, places that nectar mixed with pollen in a hollow in a tree, and gradually makes the sweet-tasting honey. Because of his wandering in the flower garden, neither the flower nor its color or scent is lost; rather, everything remains natural. So should the sage wander in the village: thus, the sekha (one under training) or asekha (one who has completed the training) muni (sage), who is an anāgāriya (homeless one), wanders in the village collecting alms in accordance with the custom of the families. Indeed, because of his wandering in the village, there is neither loss of faith nor loss of wealth for the families. Both faith and wealth remain natural. Having thus wandered and left, the sekha muni, sitting in a secluded place with water outside the village, reflects on the alms food, considering it as analogous to axle-grease, wound-covering, child-flesh, etc., and partakes of it. Then, entering such a forest grove, contemplating an internal meditation subject, he makes the four paths and four fruits of asceticism easily attainable. The asekha muni, however, devotes himself to the bliss of dwelling in the present moment. This is to be understood as his similarity to a bee making honey. But here, it is the khīṇāsava (one who has destroyed the āssavas) who is intended.

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruits of Stream-entry, etc.

The Teacher, having spoken this Dhamma talk, to further reveal the Thera's qualities, said, "Monks, it is not only now that Moggallāna has tamed the miserly seṭṭhi; he also tamed him in the past and made him understand the connection to the result of actions," and to reveal this meaning, bringing forth the past, he said:

"Both are lame, both are hunchbacked, both have uneven eyes;
Both have sores; I do not see anything desirable." (Jā. 1.1.78) –

He told the Illisa Jātaka.

The Story of Macchariya Kosiya Seṭṭhi is the Fifth.

6. The Story of Pāveyyaka Ājīvaka

Na paresaṃ vilomāni: This Dhamma talk was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Sāvatthi, concerning an Ājīvaka named Pāveyyaka.

It is said that in Savatthi, a certain female householder, having established an Ājīvaka named Pāveyya in the position of her son, looked after him. In the houses adjacent to hers, people, having heard the Buddha's teaching, would come and extol the virtues of the Buddha in various ways, saying, "How wonderful is the Buddha's teaching!" Having heard about the Buddha’s virtues, she wished to go to the monastery and hear the Dhamma, so she told the Ājīvaka about this matter, saying, "I will go to the presence of the Buddha, Āyya." He prevented her, saying, "Do not go." Even when she repeatedly requested, he still prevented her. She thought, "This man does not allow me to go to the monastery and hear the Dhamma. I will invite the Teacher and listen to the Dhamma here," and in the evening, she called her son and sent him, saying, "Go, dear son, and invite the Teacher for tomorrow." As he was going, he first went to the dwelling place of the Ājīvaka, paid homage to him, and sat down. Then the Ājīvaka said to him, "Where are you going?" He said, "I am going to invite the Teacher at my mother's request." The Ājīvaka said, "Do not go to his presence." He said, "Enough, Āyya, I am afraid of my mother, I will go." The Ājīvaka said, "We will both eat the offerings made to him; do not go." He said, "Enough, Āyya, my mother will scold me." The Ājīvaka said, "Then go, but after going and inviting him, do not tell him, 'Our house is to be reached in such-and-such a place, or in such-and-such a street, or by such-and-such a path.' Flee away as if going by another path, as if standing nearby." Having heard the Ājīvaka's words, he went to the Teacher's presence, invited him, and did everything exactly as instructed by the Ājīvaka, and then went to the Ājīvaka and asked, "What have you done?" The son said, "Everything has been done, Āyya." The Ājīvaka, saying, "You have done well; we will both eat the offerings made to him," went to that house early the next day. They took him and seated him in the back room.

The people in the surrounding houses plastered that house with fresh cow dung, scattered parched grain mixed with five kinds of flowers, and prepared a magnificent seat for the Teacher to sit on. People unfamiliar with the Buddhas do not know about the preparation of seats, and the Buddhas have no need for someone to show them the way. On the very day they attained Enlightenment at the foot of the Bodhi tree, shaking the ten thousand world-systems, all paths became manifest to them: "This path leads to hell, this to the animal realm, this to the realm of the departed, this to the human world, this to the world of gods, this to the Deathless Great Nibbāna." There is certainly no need to speak of paths to villages, towns, and so on. Therefore, the Teacher, early in the morning, taking his bowl and robe, went to the door of the great female devotee's house. She came out of the house, paid homage to the Teacher with the five-point prostration, led him inside, seated him on the prepared seat, offered the donation of water, and served him with delicious foods, both hard and soft. The female devotee, wishing to have the Teacher, who had finished his meal, give thanks, took the bowl. The Teacher began the Dhamma talk of appreciation in a sweet voice. The female devotee listened to the Dhamma, giving approval with "Sādhu, sādhu!" The Ājīvaka, sitting in the back room, hearing the sound of her giving approval and listening to the Dhamma, could not bear it. Thinking, "She is no longer mine," he came out and, scolding the female devotee and the Teacher in various ways, saying, "Destroyed one, blackguard, she makes offerings to him like this!" he fled. Ashamed by his words, the female devotee was unable to direct her mind, which had become altered, to knowledge in accordance with the teaching. Then the Teacher asked her, "Why, female devotee, are you unable to direct your mind in accordance with the teaching?" "Venerable Sir, my mind has become altered by his words." The Teacher, saying, "It is not proper to pay attention to the words spoken by such a dissimilar person. Without considering such a person, it is proper to look only at what one has done and not done oneself," then spoke this verse:

50.

"One should not regard the faults of others,
Nor what others have done or not done;
One should consider only what one
Has done or not done oneself."

Na paresaṃ vilomānī: One should not pay attention to the faults of others, to harsh words that cut to the heart. Na paresaṃ katākataṃ: One should not look at what others have done or not done, thinking, "That lay follower is faithless and disaffected; alms such as spoonfuls of rice are not given in his house, nor are ticket meals, nor is the donation of requisites such as robes available to him. Likewise, that female lay follower is faithless and disaffected; alms such as spoonfuls of rice are not given in her house, nor are ticket meals, nor is the donation of requisites such as robes available to her. Likewise, that monk is faithless and disaffected; he does not perform the duties to his preceptor, nor the duties to his teacher, nor the duties to guests, nor the duties to those departing, nor the duties in the monastery courtyard, nor the duties in the uposatha hall, nor the duties in the dining hall, nor the duties in the hot-air bath, and so on; nor does he have any of the ascetic practices, nor even the slightest enthusiasm for dwelling in meditation." In this way, one should not look at what others have done or not done. Attanova avekkheyyā: Remembering this advice, "How are my days and nights passing?" (A. Ni. 10.48) a son of good family who has gone forth in faith should examine his own deeds and non-deeds, thinking, "Am I able to work at applying the three characteristics—'impermanent, suffering, not-self'—to the aggregates, or am I not able?"

At the end of the teaching, that female devotee was established in the fruition of stream-entry, and the teaching was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Story of Pāveyya the Ājīvaka, the Sixth.

7. The Story of Chattapāṇi the Lay Follower

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma teaching, "Just as a lovely flower," while dwelling at Savatthi, concerning Chattapāṇi the lay follower.

In Savatthi, there was a lay follower named Chattapāṇi, a master of the Tipitaka and a non-returner. Early in the morning, observing the uposatha, he went to attend upon the Teacher. For noble disciples who are non-returners, there is no such thing as observing the uposatha by way of undertaking vows; celibacy and eating one meal a day come to them by way of the path itself. Therefore, it was said, "Ghaṭikāra, O Great King, the potter, eats only one meal a day, lives a life of celibacy, is virtuous, and has good qualities" (ma. ni. 2.288). Thus, non-returners are naturally those who eat one meal a day and live a life of celibacy. So he, likewise, observing the uposatha, approached the Teacher, paid homage, and sat down, listening to the Dhamma talk. At that time, King Pasenadi of Kosala went to attend upon the Teacher. Chattapāṇi the lay follower, seeing him coming, thought, "Should I get up, or not?"—"I am sitting in the presence of the chief king; it is not proper for me to get up upon seeing a regional king. However, the king will be angry at me for not getting up; even if he is angry, I will not get up. By getting up upon seeing the king, the king is honored, not the Teacher; therefore, I will not get up." Wise people do not get angry upon seeing someone not getting up when sitting in the presence of those more venerable. However, the king, seeing him not getting up, became angry, paid homage to the Teacher, and sat down to one side. The Teacher, knowing his state of anger, said, "Great King, this lay follower Chattapāṇi is wise, has seen the Dhamma, is a master of the Tipitaka, and is skilled in what is beneficial and not beneficial," and spoke of the lay follower's virtues. As the king heard the account of his virtues, his mind became softened.

Then one day, the king, standing on the upper floor of his palace, saw Chattapāṇi the lay follower, having finished his meal, walking through the royal courtyard with an umbrella and wearing shoes, and had him summoned. He removed his umbrella and shoes, approached the king, paid homage, and stood to one side. Then the king said to him, "Good lay follower, why have you removed your umbrella and shoes?" "Having heard that the king was summoning me, I removed them and came." "Today, our royal power will be known by you!" "We always know your royal power, O King!" "If so, why did you not get up when you saw me sitting in the Teacher's presence the other day?" "Great King, I was sitting in the presence of the chief king; by getting up upon seeing a regional king, I would show disrespect to the Teacher; therefore, I did not get up." "Very well, sir, let that be." "You are skilled in matters pertaining to this life and the next, a master of the Tipitaka; recite the Dhamma in our inner chambers." "I am not able to, O King!" "What is the reason?" "A royal residence is a place of great fault; things that are well-spoken and ill-spoken are weighty here, O King!" "Do not speak thus; do not feel remorse, thinking, 'I did not get up when I saw him the other day!'" "O King, a householder's dwelling place is a place of great fault; have a monk invited and have him recite the Dhamma." The king, saying, "Good, sir, go," dismissed him and went to the Teacher, requesting, "Venerable Sir, Mallikā and Queen Vāsabhakhattiyā say that they will learn the Dhamma; may the Teacher, along with five hundred monks, go regularly to my house and teach them the Dhamma." "There is no such thing as Buddhas going regularly to one place, Great King." "Then, Venerable Sir, give another monk." The Teacher assigned the task to the Venerable Ānanda. The Elder would go regularly and teach them. Among them, Mallikā carefully took hold of the teaching, recited it, and had the lesson confirmed. However, Vāsabhakhattiyā neither carefully took hold of it, nor recited it, nor was she able to have the lesson confirmed.

Then one day, the Teacher asked the Elder, "Ānanda, are the female lay followers learning the Dhamma?" "Yes, Venerable Sir." "Who takes hold of it carefully?" "Mallikā, Venerable Sir, takes hold of it carefully, recites it carefully, and is able to have the lesson confirmed carefully. However, your relative's daughter neither takes hold of it carefully, nor recites it, nor is she able to have the lesson confirmed." Hearing the Elder's words, the Teacher said, "Ānanda, the Dhamma spoken by me is fruitless, like a flower that is lovely in appearance but without fragrance, for one who does not listen to it carefully, does not grasp it, does not recite it, and does not teach it; but it is of great fruit and great benefit for one who carefully engages in listening and so on," and spoke these two verses:

51.

"Just as a lovely flower, possessing color but lacking fragrance,
So is well-spoken speech fruitless for one who does not act accordingly.

52.

"Just as a lovely flower, possessing color and fragrance,
So is well-spoken speech fruitful for one who acts accordingly."

Ruciraṃ: Beautiful. Vaṇṇavantaṃ: Possessing excellence of color and form. Agandhakaṃ: Lacking fragrance, such as pālibhaddaka, girikaṇṇikā, jayasumanā, and so forth. Evaṃ subhāsitā vācā: Well-spoken speech means the Tipitaka, the word of the Buddha. That is like a flower possessing excellence of color and form but lacking fragrance. Just as a flower lacking fragrance does not impart its fragrance to the body of one who wears it, so too, for one who does not carefully practice it with careful listening and so on, the good fragrance of learning, the fragrance of speech, and the fragrance of practice are not brought about for one who does not do what should be done there, and it is fruitless. Therefore, it was said, "So is well-spoken speech fruitless for one who does not act accordingly." Sagandhakaṃ: Such as campaka, blue lotus, and so forth. Evaṃ: Just as that flower imparts its fragrance to the body of one who wears it, so too, well-spoken speech, known as the Tipitaka, the word of the Buddha. Kubbato: For one who carefully does what should be done there with careful listening and so on, that is fruitful for that person; it is of great fruit, of great benefit, because it brings about the good fragrance of learning, the fragrance of speech, and the fragrance of practice.

At the end of the teaching, many attained the fruits of stream-entry and so forth. The teaching was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Story of Chattapāṇi the Lay Follower, the Seventh.

8. The Story of Visākhā

Yathāpi puppharāsimhā—This Dhamma discourse was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Pubbārāma near Sāvatthi, concerning Visākhā the lay follower.

It is said that she was born in Aṅgaraṭṭha, in the city of Bhaddiya, in the womb of Sumanadevī, the chief consort of Dhanañcaya Seṭṭhi, the son of Meṇḍaka Seṭṭhi. When she was seven years old, the Teacher, seeing the potential for enlightenment of Selabrahmin and others, was wandering on tour with a large Saṅgha of monks and reached that city.

Meṇḍaka was one of the five great meritorious ones: the Seṭṭhi, Candapadumā his eldest wife, Dhanañcaya his eldest son, Sumanadevī his wife and Puṇṇa, Meṇḍaka Seṭṭhi’s slave. Not only Meṇḍaka Seṭṭhi, but in Bimbisāra’s kingdom there were five of immense wealth: Jotika, Jaṭila, Meṇḍaka, Puṇṇaka, and Kākavaliya. Among them, Meṇḍaka Seṭṭhi, knowing that the Ten-Powered One had arrived in his city, summoned his son Dhanañcaya Seṭṭhi’s daughter Visākhā and said: "Dear, it is auspicious for you and auspicious for us. Go to welcome the Ten-Powered One, ascending five hundred chariots with your entourage of five hundred girls and surrounded by five hundred slave girls.” She replied, "Very well," and did so. Being skilled in appropriate and inappropriate matters, she went by chariot as far as the ground was suitable for chariots, then alighting from the chariot, approached the Teacher on foot, paid homage, and stood on one side. Then, according to her disposition, the Teacher taught her the Dhamma. At the end of the teaching, she was established in the fruit of Stream-entry with five hundred girls. Meṇḍaka Seṭṭhi also approached the Teacher, listened to the Dhamma talk, was established in the fruit of Stream-entry, invited him for the next day, and the following day served the Saṅgha headed by the Buddha with excellent food and delicacies in his own residence, and in this way gave a great alms-giving for half a month. The Teacher, having stayed in Bhaddiya as long as he pleased, departed.

At that time, Bimbisāra and Pasenadi Kosala were siblings-in-law to each other. Then one day, King Kosala thought: "In Bimbisāra’s kingdom, there live five immensely wealthy and meritorious people, but in my kingdom, there is not even one such person. Why don't I go to Bimbisāra and ask for one of these meritorious people?" He went there and, after exchanging courtesies with the king, was asked, "Why have you come?" He said, "I have come thinking, 'In your kingdom live five immensely wealthy and meritorious people, I will take one of them and go.' Give me one of them.” He said, "We cannot displace such great families." He said, "I will not go without getting one." The king consulted with his ministers and said, "Displacing the great families like Jotika and others is like shaking the great earth. There is a son of Meṇḍaka Mahāseṭṭhi named Dhanañcaya Seṭṭhi; after consulting with him, I will give you an answer." Having summoned him, he said, "Dear, King Kosala says, 'I will take one wealthy Seṭṭhi and go,' you go with him." "I will go if you send me, Your Majesty." "Then make preparations and go, dear." He did what was appropriate to be done. The king also gave great honor and sent off Pasenadi, saying, "Take this one and go." Taking him, traveling everywhere with a one-night stay, he reached a desolate place and took up residence. Then Dhanañcaya Seṭṭhi asked him, "To whom does this territory belong?" "To me, Seṭṭhi." "How far is Sāvatthi from here?" "About seven yojanas." "The inner city is crowded, our retinue is large. If you approve, Your Majesty, we could live here." The king agreed, had a city built in that place, gave it to him, and departed. Because the place of his own dwelling was taken, the name of the city became Sāketa.

There are five kinds of beauty, dear." Hair-beauty, flesh-beauty, bone-beauty, skin-beauty, and age-beauty. For a woman of great merit, her hair, like a peacock’s tail, let loose and released, strikes the end of her garment, then turns back and stands upright; this is called hair-beauty. Her teeth-covering is like a bimba fruit, rich in color, even, and smooth; this is called flesh-beauty. Her teeth are white, even, not sparse, shining like a row of vajira gems placed after being extracted, like a row of conch shells that are perfectly cut; this is called bone-beauty. Her skin color, even without being smeared with black powder or the like, is smooth, like a garland of blue lotuses; and for a fair-skinned woman, like a garland of kanikāra flowers; this is called skin-beauty. Even after giving birth ten times, she is like one who has given birth only once, without diminishing youth; this is called age-beauty. Then her parents invited one hundred and eight Brahmins, fed them, and asked, "Are there women endowed with the five kinds of beauty?" "Yes, there are." "Then let eight men go to seek such a girl." Giving them much wealth, they sent them off saying, "When you return, we will know what to do for you; go and seek such a girl, and when you see her, give her this ornament," giving them a golden garland worth one hundred thousand.

They went to large cities, searching, but without seeing a girl endowed with the five kinds of beauty, they returned. Arriving at Sāketa on the day of the Vivaṭa festival, they thought, "Today our task will be accomplished." In that city, there is an annual Vivaṭa festival. At that time, even families that do not go out leave their houses with their retinue and go on foot to the riverbank with their bodies uncovered. On that day, the sons of wealthy Khattiyas and Mahāsālas stand along the path, thinking, "Having seen a maiden of similar birth who is pleasing, we will encircle her with a garland." Those Brahmins also entered a hall near the riverbank and stood there. At that moment, Visākhā, about fifteen or sixteen years old, fully adorned with all her jewelry, surrounded by five hundred maidens, arrived at that place, thinking, "I will go to the river and bathe." Then a cloud arose and rained. The five hundred maidens quickly went and entered the hall. The Brahmins, looking around, did not see even one endowed with the five kinds of beauty among them. Then Visākhā entered the hall with her usual gait, her clothes and ornaments getting wet. The Brahmins, seeing four of her beauties and wanting to see her teeth, said to each other, "Our daughter is of lazy nature. I think her husband will not even get a little kanjika." Then Visākhā said to them, "Whom are you talking about?" "We are talking about you, mother." For her voice is sweet, emanating like the sound of a bronze cymbal. Then, again with a sweet voice, she asked, "Why are you speaking?" "Your attendant women, soaking their clothes and ornaments, quickly entered the hall; there was not even such a quick arrival for you, you came having wet your clothes and ornaments. Therefore, we are talking about you, mother."

An anointed king, fully adorned with all his jewelry, hurrying through the royal courtyard with his loins girt, is not beautiful; instead, he only receives blame, "Why is this king running like a householder?" He is beautiful only when walking slowly. Even the king’s auspicious elephant, adorned, is not beautiful when hurrying; it is beautiful only when walking with the gait of an elephant. A recluse is not beautiful when hurrying; he only receives blame, "Why is this ascetic running like a layman?" He is beautiful only with a composed gait. A woman is not beautiful when hurrying; she should only be blamed, "Why is this woman running like a man?" These four people are not beautiful when hurrying, dear." "What is the other reason, mother?" "Dear, parents raise their daughters, arranging their limbs and features. We are like goods for sale; they raise us to send us to another family. If, while hurrying, the corner of our garment gets caught or slips and falls on the ground, or if a hand or foot breaks, it would be a burden on the family; but my ornaments and clothes, even if they get wet, will dry. Considering this reason, I did not run, dear."

The Brahmins, seeing the perfection of her teeth while she was speaking, praised her, saying, "We have never seen such perfection of teeth," and saying, "You are suitable for us," they placed the golden garland on her. Then she asked them, "From which city have you come, dear?" "From Sāvatthi, mother." "What is the name of the Seṭṭhi family?" "Migāra Seṭṭhi, mother." "What is the name of the noble son?" "Puṇṇavaḍḍhana Kumāra, mother." She, thinking, "Our family is of similar birth," consented and sent a message to her father, "Send us a chariot." Although she had come on foot on the way, she could not go in that way from the time of wearing the golden garland; daughters of noble families go by chariots, others ride on an ordinary vehicle or hold an umbrella or a palm leaf over them. Even without that, they lift the hem of their garment and throw it over their shoulder as they go. Her father sent five hundred chariots. She ascended a chariot with her retinue and departed. The Brahmins also went together. Then the Seṭṭhi asked them, "From where have you come?" "From Sāvatthi, Mahāseṭṭhi." "What is the name of the Seṭṭhi?" "Migāra Seṭṭhi." "What is the name of his son?" "Puṇṇavaḍḍhana Kumāra." "How much wealth does he have?" "Forty crores." "Compared to our wealth, that wealth is worth only a kākaṇi. From the time of obtaining the girl for the sake of guarding, what is the need for anything else?" He consented. He honored them, let them stay for one or two days, and sent them off.

Having gone to Savatthi, they announced to the banker Migara, "We have found a maiden." "Whose daughter is she?" "Daughter of the banker Dhanañjaya." He said, "I have found a maiden from a great family; it is proper to bring her quickly." He informed the king about his journey there. The king said, "This is a great family that I brought from Bimbisāra's presence and settled in Saketa; it is proper to honor them. I too will come." He said, "Good, O King," and sent a message to the banker Dhanañjaya: "When I come, the king will also come. Will you be able to manage the necessary arrangements for such a large royal force, or not?" The other one sent back a message, "Even if ten kings come, let them come!" Migara the banker, after leaving only a house-guardian in the great city, taking the rest of the people, went and stood at a distance of half a yojanā and sent word, "We have arrived." Dhanañjaya the banker sent many gifts and consulted with his daughter, "My dear, your father-in-law has come with the Kosala king. Which house should be prepared for him, which for the king, and which for the viceroy and others?" The wise banker's daughter, with swift and sharp intellect, with aspirations fulfilled for a hundred thousand aeons, endowed with resolution, having arranged, "Prepare such-and-such a house for my father-in-law, such-and-such a house for the king, and such-and-such for the viceroy and others," summoned servants and laborers, and instructed, "So many of you perform the duties for the king, so many for the viceroy and others; you yourselves also take care of the elephants, horses, and so on; the horse-binders and others will come and enjoy the auspicious festival." "Why?" "So that some might not say, 'Having gone to Visakha's auspicious event, we gained nothing; while taking care of the horses and so on, we did not live comfortably.'"

Order the making of the ornament called mahālatāpasādhana, worth a thousand nikkhas of red gold, and the corresponding silver, jewels, pearls, corals, diamonds, and so on. After residing for a few days, the king sent a message to the banker Dhanañjaya, "It is not possible for the banker to continuously support us for long; let him know when it is time for the maiden to depart." He too sent a message to the king: "Now the rainy season has arrived; it is not possible to travel for four months. Whatever is proper for your army to receive, all that is my burden; when I send word, Your Majesty may depart." From then on, the city of Saketa was like a constant festival. Garlands, perfumes, clothes, and so on were always prepared for everyone, starting with the king. Then those people thought, "The banker is making offerings only to us." Thus, three months passed, but the ornament was not yet finished. Those in charge of the workshops came and informed the banker, "There is nothing else lacking, but the firewood for cooking food for the army is not sufficient." "Go, sirs, take the dilapidated elephant stables and the dilapidated houses in this city and cook there." Even while they were cooking, half a month passed. Then again they reported, "There is no firewood." "At this time, it is not possible to obtain firewood. Open the cloth storehouses, make wicks with thick shawls, soak them in oil jars, and cook the food." They did so for half a month. Thus, four months passed, and the ornament was also finished.

In that ornament, four diamond pipes were used, eleven pipes of pearls, twenty-two pipes of coral, thirty-three pipes of jewels. Thus, it reached completion with these and other gems. For the ornament made of non-woven material, they did the thread work with silver. When placed on the head, it extended to the back of the feet. In each of those places, there were golden knobs made by joining rings, silver dice, one ring in the middle of the head, two on the two earlobes, one on the throat, two on the two collarbones, two on the two temples, and two on the two sides of the waist. In that ornament, they made a peacock; on its right wing were five hundred leaves made of red gold, and five hundred leaves on the left wing, its beak was made of coral, its eyes were made of jewels, and so were its neck and tail feathers, the leaf-pipes were made of silver, and so were its legs. Standing on the mountain peak in the middle of Visakha's head, it appeared like a dancing peacock. The sound of a thousand leaf-pipes flowed like divine music and like the sound of a five-piece orchestra. Only those who came close knew of its peacock nature. The ornament was worth nine kotis, and a hundred thousand was given as the cost of craftsmanship.

"Through what merit was this ornament obtained by her?" It is said that in the time of the Buddha Kassapa, she gave robes to twenty thousand monks, and she gave thread, needles, and dye, all from her own possessions. Through the merit of that robe-offering, she obtained this mahālatāpasādhana ornament. For women, the offering of robes reaches its peak with the mahālatāpasādhana ornament, for men, with the bowl and robe made of iddhi. Thus, the great banker, having arranged his daughter's dowry in four months, while giving her gifts, gave five hundred carts filled with kahāpaṇas, five filled with gold vessels, five filled with silver vessels, five filled with copper vessels, five filled with linen and silk cloths, five filled with ghee, five filled with oil, five filled with rice, and five hundred carts filled with plows and other equipment. Thus, he thought, "In the place where my daughter goes, may she not send [a message] to someone else's door, saying, 'I need such-and-such.'" Therefore, he had all the equipment given. In each chariot, having placed three colorfully adorned maidservants, he gave five hundred chariots. He gave one and a half thousand attendants, saying, "Let these bathe her, feed her, adorn her, and attend to her." Then it occurred to him, "I will give my daughter cows." So he ordered the men, "Go, open the gate of Cūḷavaja, and stand in three gavutas, holding three drums, stand on both sides in a place the width of a bull. Do not allow the cows to go beyond that. When they are standing like that, sound the drum." They did so. When the cows came out of the enclosure and had gone one gavuta, they sounded the drum, then they did so again when they had gone half a yojana. Again, when they had gone three gavutas, they sounded the drum, and they prevented them from going further in width. Thus, in a place three gavutas long and the width of a bull, the cows stood, crowding each other.

The great banker said, "So many cows are enough for my daughter; close the gate." The gate of the enclosure was closed. When the gate was closed, by the power of Visakha's merit, strong bullocks and cows jumped out and out. Even as the people were trying to stop them, sixty thousand strong bullocks and sixty thousand cows came out, and so many strong calves, bulls of those cows, jumped out and followed them. "Through what merit did the cows go out like this?" Through the giving of gifts even while they were being stopped. It is said that in the time of the Buddha Kassapa, she was the youngest of King Kiki's seven daughters, named Saṅghadāsī, and while giving the five products of the cow to twenty thousand monks, she covered the bowls of the elders and the young ones and the novices, and even though they said, "Enough, enough," she gave, saying, "This is delicious, this is pleasing." Thus, through that merit, even though they were being stopped, the cows came out. When the banker had given so much wealth, the banker's wife said, "You have provided everything for my daughter, but you have not provided attendants, male and female slaves to do service; why?" "To know who are affectionate and unaffectionate towards my daughter. Indeed, I will not send her away holding her neck when she is coming with me; only those who wish to go with her may go when she is boarding the vehicle, I will say, 'Let those who do not wish to go, not go.'"

Then, thinking, "Tomorrow my daughter will depart," sitting in his chamber, he seated his daughter near him and gave her advice, saying, "My dear, for one living in her husband's family, it is proper to maintain such-and-such conduct." This Migara the banker, sitting in the next chamber, heard Dhanañjaya the banker's advice. That banker advised his daughter thus:

"My dear, for one living in her father-in-law's family, the inner fire should not be taken outside, the outer fire should not be brought inside, one should give to one who gives, one should not give to one who does not give, one should give to both one who gives and one who does not give, one should sit comfortably, one should eat comfortably, one should sleep comfortably, the fire should be tended, the household deity should be worshipped."

Having given this ten-fold advice, on the next day, having gathered all the troops and having taken eight householders as sureties in the middle of the royal army, saying, "If a fault arises with my daughter in the place she has gone, it should be settled by you," having adorned his daughter with the mahālatāpasādhan ornament worth nine kotis, having given forty-five kotis of wealth, including bathing powder, having placed her on the vehicle, he had drums beaten in his fourteen alms villages, which were his own property all around Saketa, including Anuradhapura, "Let those who wish to go with my daughter, go." Having heard the sound, "What is there for us here when our lady is departing?" the fourteen villagers left nothing behind. Dhanañjaya the banker, having honored the king and Migara the banker, followed a little way and sent his daughter away with them.

Migara the banker, sitting in the last vehicle and going, seeing the army, asked, "Who are these?" "These are the male and female slaves attending to your daughter-in-law." "Who will support so many?" "Beat them and chase them away, and fine those who do not flee." Visakha, however, said, "Go away, do not stop them, strength itself will give food to strength." Even when the banker was told this, he said, "My dear, we have no need of these, who will support them?" Having beaten them with clods, sticks, and so on, and having chased them away, he took the remaining ones, saying, "Enough of so many for us," and departed. Then, when Visakha reached the gate of Savatthi, she thought, "Should I enter sitting in a covered vehicle, or should I stand in the chariot?" Then it occurred to her, "If I enter in a covered vehicle, the special quality of the mahālatāpasādhan will not be apparent." Showing herself to the entire city, she entered the city standing in the chariot. The residents of Savatthi, seeing Visakha's wealth, said, "This is Visakha, such wealth is indeed fitting for her." Thus, with great wealth, she entered the banker's house. On the day of her arrival, all the residents of the city sent gifts according to their means and strength, thinking, "Our Dhanañjaya the banker gave a great feast to those who arrived in his city." Visakha had the gifts that were sent given in that same city to everyone in various families. Thus, saying, "Give this to my mother, give this to my father, give this to my brother, give this to my sister," sending gifts with kind words appropriate to their respective ages, she made all the residents of the city like relatives. Then, immediately after nightfall, a mare of noble breed was about to give birth. Having had the maidservants take torches, she went there, bathed the mare with warm water, anointed it with oil, and returned to her own dwelling.

Her lifespan was one hundred and twenty years, and she did not have even a single gray hair on her head; she was always like a sixteen-year-old girl. When she went to the monastery surrounded by her sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons, people would ask, "Which one here is Visākhā?" Those who saw her walking would think, "Let her walk a little longer; the venerable one is beautiful even while walking." Those who saw her standing, sitting, or lying down would think, "Let her lie down a little longer; the venerable one is beautiful even while lying down." Thus, it could not be said of her, "She is not beautiful in any of the four postures." Moreover, she possessed the strength of five elephants. The king, having heard that "Visākhā possesses the strength of five elephants," went to her monastery, listened to the Dhamma, and, wanting to test her strength on his return, released an elephant. It raised its trunk and went towards Visākhā. Some of the five hundred women in her retinue fled, while others, not moving, asked, "What is this?" They were told, "The king has released an elephant to test your lady's strength." Seeing this, Visākhā thought, "What is the use of fleeing? How shall I restrain it?" Thinking, "If I hold it tightly, it might be destroyed," she grasped its trunk with two fingers and turned it around. The elephant could not keep its balance and fell crouching in the royal courtyard. The crowd cheered its approval. She, too, returned home safely with her retinue.

Now at that time, Visākhā Migāramātā in Sāvatthi had many sons and many grandsons, healthy sons and healthy grandsons, and was highly esteemed as auspicious. Not one of those sons and grandsons had died prematurely. The residents of Sāvatthi would invite Visākhā first and feed her at festivals and celebrations. Then, on one festive day, as a large crowd, adorned and decorated, was going to the monastery to hear the Dhamma, Visākhā, having eaten at the place to which she was invited, adorned herself with the Mahālatā ornament and went to the monastery with the crowd. There, she removed her jewelry, wrapped it in her upper robe, and gave it to her maid. Regarding this, it was said:

"At that time, there was a festival in Sāvatthi, and people, adorned and decorated, were going to the monastery. Visākhā Migāramātā also went to the monastery adorned and decorated. Then Visākhā Migāramātā removed her jewelry, wrapped it in her upper robe, and gave it to her maid, saying, 'Here, take this bundle.'" (pāci. 503)

As she was going to the monastery, she thought, "It is not proper to enter the monastery wearing such an expensive ornament, fastened on the head and decorating from head to foot." So she removed it, made it into a bundle, and gave it to a maid who had the strength of five elephants, a strength that had arisen from her own merit. Indeed, only she was capable of carrying it. Therefore, she said to her, "Dear, take this ornament; I will put it on again when we return from the Teacher's presence." Having given it, she went to the Teacher, adorned with a simple garment, listened to the Dhamma, and after the Dhamma talk, paid homage to the Blessed One, rose, and departed. That maid of hers forgot the ornament. If anything was forgotten by the congregation departing after hearing the Dhamma, Ānanda Thera would take care of it. So that day, seeing the Mahālatā ornament, he informed the Teacher, "Venerable Sir, Visākhā has forgotten her ornament and left." "Place it to one side, Ānanda." The Thera picked it up and placed it hanging on the side of the steps.

Visākhā, together with Suppiyā, wandered inside the monastery, thinking, "I will learn what needs to be done for visiting monks, travelers, and the sick." When those laywomen were seen inside the monastery, even young novices, naturally desiring ghee, honey, and oil, approached with bowls and so on. On that day, too, they did the same. Then, seeing a sick monk, Suppiyā (mahāva. 280) asked, "What does the venerable one need?" When told, "A covering," and thinking, "Let it be; I will send it, venerable one," on the second day, not finding suitable meat, she performed the necessary task with her own thigh meat and, through the Teacher's grace, became naturally restored. Visākhā, having looked after the sick and young novices, went out through another door and stood in the monastery courtyard, saying, "Dear, bring the ornament; I will put it on." At that moment, that maid, realizing that she had gone out having forgotten it, said, "Venerable Lady, I have forgotten it." "Then go and get it; but if my lord Ānanda Thera has picked it up and placed it elsewhere, do not bring it; it is given up by me to the venerable one." For she knew that "the Thera returns forgotten items to the family's people"; therefore, she spoke thus. The Thera, seeing that maid, asked, "Why have you come?" When she said, "I have come, venerable one, because my lady forgot her ornament," he said, "It is placed on the side of these steps; go and take it." She said, "Venerable Sir, an item touched by your hand is unwearable by my lady," and went back empty-handed. When asked by Visākhā, "What is it, dear?" she told the matter. "Dear, I will not wear an item touched by my lord. It is given up by me. But it is difficult for the venerable ones to look after it; I will dispose of it and offer something suitable. Go, bring it." She went and brought it. Visākhā, without wearing it, had goldsmiths summoned and had it appraised. When they said, "It is worth nine crores; in a craftsman's shop, it would be one hundred thousand," she had the ornament placed in a carriage and said, "Then sell it." No one would be able to buy it with enough money. For indeed, women skilled in making such an ornament were rare. In the world, only three women obtained the Mahālatā ornament: Visākhā the great laywoman, Mallikā the wife of Bandhula Malla-Senāpati, and the daughter of the Bārāṇasī treasurer.

Therefore, Visākhā herself gave its price, loaded nine crores and one hundred thousand more onto carts, took it to the monastery, paid homage to the Teacher, and said, "Venerable Sir, my lord Ānanda Thera touched my ornament with his hand; from the time it was touched, it is impossible for me to wear it. Disposing of it, I will offer something suitable. As I was trying to sell it, not seeing anyone else capable of buying it, I myself had its price accepted and have come. With which of the four requisites shall I offer it, Venerable Sir?" Visākhā, thinking that it was fitting to build a dwelling place for the Sangha at the eastern gate, said, "It is fitting, Venerable Sir." With a joyful mind, Visākhā acquired the land itself for nine crores. She began to build the monastery for another nine crores.

Then one day, as the Teacher was surveying the world at dawn, he saw the potential of Bhaddiya, son of a treasurer who had passed away from the deva world and been reborn in the treasurer's family in Bhaddiyanagara. After taking his meal at Anāthapiṇḍika's house, he headed towards the northern gate. By nature, the Teacher would take alms at Visākhā's house and leave through the southern gate to reside in Jetavana. Having taken alms at Anāthapiṇḍika's house, he would leave through the eastern gate to reside in Pubbārāma. Seeing the Blessed One heading towards the northern gate, they knew that he would be setting out on a journey. Visākhā, having heard that day that "the Teacher has gone towards the northern gate," quickly went and, having paid homage, said, "Are you intending to go on a journey, Venerable Sir?" "Yes, Visākhā." "Venerable Sir, I am building a monastery for you, having given up so much wealth. Please return, Venerable Sir." "This is a non-returning journey, Visākhā." She, thinking, "Surely the Blessed One will see someone with the necessary qualities," said, "Then, Venerable Sir, send back one monk to oversee what I have done and not done, and then depart." "Take the bowl of whomever you favor, Visākhā," he said. Although she liked Ānanda Thera, she thought, "Mahāmoggallāna Thera is powerful; relying on him, my work will be quickly accomplished," and took the Thera's bowl. The Thera looked at the Teacher. The Teacher said, "Return, Moggallāna, taking five hundred monks from your retinue." He did so. Through his power, people who had gone even fifty or sixty yojanas to get timber and stones came that very day, bringing large trees and stones. They did not tire of loading the trees and stones onto carts, and the axles did not break. Before long, they built a two-storied palace. The lower floor had five hundred rooms, and the upper floor had five hundred rooms, so the palace was adorned with a thousand rooms. He had the palace built on a pure area of eight karisas. Thinking, "A pure palace is not beautiful," he had five hundred principal round houses, five hundred small palaces, and five hundred long halls built surrounding it.

Then the Teacher, having traveled for nine months, returned to Sāvatthi. The work on Visākhā's palace was also completed in nine months. The palace roof was made of solid, thickly-applied red gold, capable of holding sixty water pots. Having heard that "the Teacher is going to the Jetavana monastery," she went to meet him, brought the Teacher to her monastery, and made a request, "Venerable Sir, stay here with the Sangha for these four months; I will hold a dedication festival for the palace." The Teacher consented. From then on, she gave alms in the monastery to the Sangha with the Buddha at its head. Then one of her friends came with a cloth worth one hundred thousand and said, "Friend, I want to spread this cloth as a floor covering in your palace; show me a place to spread it." "Good, friend, if I were to say to you, 'There is no space,' you would think, 'She is unwilling to give me space.' Look yourself at the two floors of the palace and the thousand rooms and find a place to spread it." She, carrying the cloth worth one hundred thousand and wandering here and there, not seeing a cloth of lesser value than that, became sad, thinking, "I do not obtain a share of merit in this palace," and stood weeping in one place. Then Ānanda Thera, seeing her, asked, "Why are you weeping?" She told him the matter. The Thera, saying, "Do not worry, I will show you a place to spread it," said, "Spread this as a foot-wiping cloth at the foot-washing place at the bottom of the steps. The monks, having washed their feet, will first wipe their feet here and then enter, thus it will be of great fruit for you." Indeed, this was a place unnoticed by Visākhā.

For four months, Visākhā gave alms inside the monastery to the Sangha with the Buddha at its head. On the final day, she gave robes and cloths to the Sangha. The robes and cloths received by each member of the Sangha were worth a thousand. Filling all the bowls, she gave medicine. In the giving of gifts, nine crores were spent. Thus, she spent twenty-seven crores in the Buddha's dispensation: nine crores for the acquisition of the land for the monastery, nine for the construction of the monastery, and nine for the monastery dedication festival. Such a great generosity as this is not found in any other woman living in the house of a heretic. On the day the monastery dedication festival was completed, surrounded by her sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons in the increasing shade, and thinking, "Everything that I previously desired has reached its peak," she walked around the palace and uttered this exclamation in a sweet voice with five verses:

"When shall I give a delightful palace,
With plaster of lime and clay?
The gift of a monastery I will give,
My aspiration is fulfilled."

"When shall I give a couch and a chair, a pillow and a bolster;
When shall I give articles for lodging, may my aspiration be fulfilled.

"When shall I give ticket-food, delicious food with meat sauce;
When shall I give food as alms, may my aspiration be fulfilled.

"When shall I give cloth from Kasi, and linen and cotton fabrics;
When shall I give robes as alms, may my aspiration be fulfilled.

"When shall I give ghee and fresh butter, honey, oil and molasses;
When shall I give medicine as alms, may my aspiration be fulfilled."

The monks, hearing her voice, told the Teacher: "Venerable Sir, we have never seen Visakha singing in such a manner in such a long time. Today, surrounded by her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she walks around the palace singing. Is her bile disturbed, or has she become insane?" The Teacher said, "Monks, my daughter is not singing; her intention is fulfilled. Thinking, 'My desired wishes have reached their peak,' she wanders about, uttering joyful exclamations." Then they asked, "When, Venerable Sir, did she make this aspiration?" "Listen, monks," He said. "We will listen, Venerable Sir," they replied, and He brought forth the past:

"In the past, monks, one hundred thousand aeons ago, the Buddha named Padumuttara arose in the world. His life span was one hundred thousand years. He had a retinue of one hundred thousand arahants. His city was named Hamsavati, his father was King Sunanda, and his mother was Queen Sujata. One female lay disciple was the chief attendant of that Buddha, having requested eight boons, standing in the place of his mother, she attended on the Teacher with the four requisites, going for attendance morning and evening. One of her friends regularly went to the monastery with her. Seeing her intimacy and favor with the Teacher, she thought, 'What must one do to be so beloved by the Buddhas?' She asked the Teacher, 'Venerable Sir, who is this woman to you?' 'She is the foremost of the attendants.' 'Venerable Sir, what did she do to be the foremost of the attendants?' 'She made an aspiration for one hundred thousand aeons.' 'Is it possible to make the aspiration now, Venerable Sir?' 'Yes, it is possible.' 'Then, Venerable Sir, please accept my alms for a week with one hundred thousand monks.' The Teacher consented. After giving alms for a week, on the final day, giving robes and cloths, she worshipped the Teacher, prostrated at his feet, and made this aspiration, 'Venerable Sir, I do not desire any of the divine sovereignties etc. as a result of this alms-giving. May I be the foremost of those who, in the presence of a Buddha like you, having obtained eight boons, standing in the place of his mother, are able to attend on him with the four requisites.' The Teacher, considering the future, looking ahead one hundred thousand aeons, said, 'At the end of one hundred thousand aeons, a Buddha named Gotama will arise. Then you will be a female lay disciple named Visakha, and in his presence, having obtained eight boons, you will be the foremost of the female attendants who stand in the place of his mother and attend on him with the four requisites.' To her, that accomplishment seemed as if it would be obtained tomorrow.

Having done meritorious deeds as long as she lived, she passed away and was reborn in the deva-world. Wandering among devas and humans, in the time of the Buddha Kassapa, she was the youngest of the seven daughters of King Kiki of Kasi, named Sanghadasi. Not going to another family, together with her elder sisters, she performed meritorious deeds such as giving alms for a long time, and at the feet of the Buddha Kassapa, she made the aspiration, 'In the future, may I be the foremost of those who stand in the place of the mother of a Buddha like you and give the four requisites.' From then on, wandering among devas and humans, in this existence, she was born as the daughter of Dhananjaya, the son of Mendaka the millionaire. In my Dispensation, she did many meritorious deeds. Thus, monks," he said, "my daughter is not singing, but seeing the fulfillment of her desired wish, she utters joyful exclamations." Then the Teacher, while teaching the Dhamma, said, "Monks, just as a skilled garland maker, having made a great heap of various flowers, makes various kinds of garlands, even so, Visakha's mind inclines to do various kinds of meritorious deeds," and spoke this verse:

53.

"As from a heap of flowers,
One would make many garlands;
So by one born mortal,
Much good should be done."

puppharāsimhā: from a heap of various kinds of flowers. Kayirā: would make. Mālāguṇe bahū: various kinds of garlands, such as garlands tied with fibers, etc. Maccenā: by a being named "mortal" due to the nature of being subject to death, bahuṃ kusalaṃ kattabbaṃ: much good should be done, such as giving robes, etc. Here, the mention of "heap of flowers" is to show an abundance of flowers. For if there are few flowers and the garland maker is skilled, he still cannot make many garlands. An unskilled garland maker cannot make garlands whether the flowers are few or many. But when there are many flowers, a skilled garland maker, an expert and clever one, makes many garlands; even so, if one has weak faith, and abundant wealth exists, one cannot do many meritorious deeds. With weak faith and little wealth, one cannot do them either. With abundant faith and little wealth, one still cannot do them. But with abundant faith and abundant wealth, one can. Such was the female lay disciple Visakha. With reference to her, this was said: "As…pe…much good should be done."

At the end of the discourse, many became stream-enterers and so on. The Dhamma talk was beneficial to the multitude.

The Eighth Story about Visakha

9. The Story of the Questions of the Elder Ananda

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, Na pupphagandho paṭivātametī (The scent of flowers does not travel against the wind), while dwelling at Savatthi, in reply to a question by the Elder Ananda.

It seems that the Elder, while in seclusion in the evening, thought, "The Blessed One has said that there are three kinds of excellent scents: root-scent, heartwood-scent, and flower-scent. Of these, the scent travels only with the wind, not against the wind. Is there any kind of scent that travels against the wind?" Then this occurred to him: "Why should I decide this myself? I will ask the Teacher." So he approached the Teacher and asked. Therefore, it was said:

"Then the Venerable Ananda, rising from seclusion in the evening, approached the Blessed One, and after approaching, paying homage to the Blessed One, sat down to one side. Sitting to one side, the Venerable Ananda said this to the Blessed One:

"These three, Venerable Sir, are kinds of scent of which the scent travels only with the wind, not against the wind. What three? Root-scent, heartwood-scent, and flower-scent. These, Venerable Sir, are the three kinds of scent of which the scent travels only with the wind, not against the wind. Is there, Venerable Sir, any kind of scent of which the scent travels with the wind, against the wind, and with and against the wind?" (A. ni. 3.80)

Then the Blessed One, answering his question:

"There is, Ananda, a kind of scent of which the scent travels with the wind, against the wind, and with and against the wind." "But what, Venerable Sir, is that kind of scent?" "Of which the scent travels with the wind, against the wind, and with and against the wind?"

"Here, Ananda, in whatever village or town, a woman or a man has gone to the Buddha for refuge, has gone to the Dhamma for refuge, has gone to the Sangha for refuge, abstains from killing living beings, abstains from taking what is not given, abstains from misconduct in sensual pleasures, abstains from false speech, abstains from liquor, wine, and intoxicants, the basis of negligence, is virtuous, has good qualities, dwells at home with a heart free from the stain of stinginess, freely generous, open-handed, delighting in relinquishment, devoted to charity, delighting in giving and sharing.

"In the directions, recluses and brahmins speak their praise, 'In such and such a village or town, a woman or a man has gone to the Buddha for refuge, has gone to the Dhamma for refuge, has gone to the Sangha for refuge…pe…delighting in giving and sharing.'

"Even the devas speak their praise, 'In such and such a village or town, a woman or a man has gone to the Buddha for refuge, has gone to the Dhamma for refuge, has gone to the Sangha for refuge…pe…delighting in giving and sharing.' "This, Ananda, is that kind of scent of which the scent travels with the wind, against the wind, and with and against the wind," (a. ni. 3.80) having said this, he spoke these verses:

54.

"The scent of flowers travels not against the wind,
Nor sandalwood, tagara, or jasmine;
But the scent of the virtuous travels against the wind,
The good person pervades all directions." (a. ni. 3.80);

55.

"Sandalwood or tagara, lotus, or jasmine;
Among these kinds of scent, the scent of virtue is unsurpassed."

na pupphagandho: In the Tavatimsa heaven, the paricchattaka tree is one hundred yojanas in length and breadth, the radiance of its flowers travels fifty yojanas, and its scent one hundred yojanas, but even that travels only with the wind, and cannot travel even eight finger-breadths against the wind. Even such a flower-scent does not travel against the wind. Candanaṃ: sandalwood-scent. Tagaramallikā vā: here too, the scent of these is intended. For even the scent of red sandalwood, which is the chief of heartwood-scents, and the scent of tagara and jasmine, travel only with the wind, not against the wind. Satañca gandho: But the scent of virtue of good people, Buddhas, Paccekabuddhas, and disciples, travels against the wind. For what reason? Sabbā disā sappuriso pavāyati: Because the good person, pervading all directions with the scent of virtue, travels everywhere, therefore it should not be said that "his scent does not travel against the wind." Therefore it was said, "travels against the wind." Vassikī: jasmine. Etesaṃ: of these kinds of scent of sandalwood etc., the scent of virtue of virtuous good people is unsurpassed, incomparable, and without parallel.

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruit of stream-entry and so on. The discourse was beneficial to the multitude.

The Ninth Story about the Questions of the Elder Ananda

10. The Story of the Alms-food Given to the Elder Mahakassapa

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, Appamatto ayaṃ gandho (This scent is slight), while dwelling in the Veluvana, concerning the giving of alms-food to the Elder Mahakassapa.

On one occasion, the Elder, after emerging from cessation after seven days, thought, "I will go to Rājagaha for alms in succession," and set out. At that time, five hundred celestial nymphs, attendants of Sakka, the King of Gods, became enthusiastic, thinking, "We will give alms to the Elder." They prepared five hundred portions of alms food, and standing along the road, they said, "Venerable Sir, please accept this alms food and favor us." He said, "Go away, I will favor the poor." "Venerable Sir, do not destroy us, please favor us." Knowing this, the Elder refused again. As they continued to plead, unwilling to leave, he rebuked them, "You do not know your measure, go away!" Hearing the Elder's rebuke, they were stunned and unable to stand before him, they fled and went to the Deva-world. When Sakka asked them, "Where have you gone?" they replied, "We went to give alms food to the Elder who had arisen from attainment, O God." "Was it given?" "He did not wish to accept it." "What did he say?" "He said, 'I will favor the poor,' O God." "In what manner did you go?" "In this manner, O God." Sakka thought, "What alms food would those like you give to the Elder?" and desiring to give himself, he transformed himself into a decrepit old man, with broken teeth, grey hair, and a bent body, an old weaver, and having Sujā, a goddess, made into a similar old woman, he created a weaver's street and sat there stretching the warp.

The Elder, thinking, "I will favor the poor," was going towards the city, and seeing that street just outside the city, he looked and saw two people. At that moment, Sakka was stretching the warp, and Sujā was spinning the thread. The Elder thought, "Even in their old age, they are still working. I think there are none poorer than these in this city. I will accept even a handful of broken rice or greens given by them and favor them." So he went towards their house. Sakka, seeing him coming, said to Sujā, "Good woman, my master is coming here, sit quietly as if you do not see him. In a moment, we will deceive the Elder and give him alms food." The Elder came and stood at the door of the house. They, as if not seeing him, continued to do their work, moving slowly.

Then Sakka said, "There is an Elder standing at the door of the house, observe him first." "Go and observe him, master." He went out of the house and, bowing to the Elder with the fivefold prostration, he knelt down, clutching his knees with both hands, and rising up, said falteringly, "Which Elder is this, my master?" He stepped back a little and said, "My eyes are clouded with smoke," and placing his hand on his forehead, he looked up and said, "Alas! It is the Venerable Mahākassapa who has come to my hut door after a long time. Is there anything in the house?" Sujā, looking a little flustered, gave the reply, "There is, master." Sakka, "Venerable Sir, without considering whether it is coarse or fine, please favor us," and took the bowl. The Elder thought, "Whether it is greens or a handful of broken rice given by these people, I will favor them," and gave the bowl. He went inside the house, took rice from a pot called ghaṭiodana, filled the bowl, and placed it in the Elder's hand. That alms food was full of various soups and curries, and the entire city of Rājagaha was filled with its fragrance.

Then the Elder thought, "This man has little power, but the alms food has great power, like the food of Sakka. Who could this be?" Then, knowing him to be Sakka, he said, "You have done a heavy deed, plundering the wealth of the poor. Today, by giving alms to me, some poor person might attain the position of a general or a wealthy merchant." "There is no one poorer than me, Venerable Sir." "Why are you poor, enjoying royal glory in the Deva-world?" "Venerable Sir, it is indeed like this. In the time when a Buddha had not arisen, I performed meritorious deeds. When a Buddha had arisen, having performed meritorious deeds, three gods of equal status, Cūḷarathadevaputta, Mahārathadevaputta, and Anekavaṇṇadevaputta, were born near me, more powerful than I. When they descend into the main street with their attendants, saying, 'We will play at asterisms', I flee and enter my house. The radiance from their bodies overwhelms my body, but the radiance from my body does not overwhelm their bodies. Who is poorer than me, Venerable Sir?' 'Even so, from now on, do not deceive me in giving alms.' "Is there merit for me in giving alms to you by deceiving you, or is there not?' "There is, friend.' "Since that is so, the doing of meritorious deeds is my burden, Venerable Sir." Having said this, he saluted the Elder, took Sujā, circumambulated the Elder, rose into the sky, and exclaimed, "Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa!" Thus it was said:

"On one occasion, the Blessed One was dwelling at Rājagaha in the Bamboo Grove, the Squirrels' Sanctuary. At that time, the Venerable Mahākassapa was dwelling in the Pippali Cave, having sat in one posture for seven days, absorbed in a certain concentration. Then, at the end of those seven days, the Venerable Mahākassapa arose from that concentration. Then, this thought occurred to the Venerable Mahākassapa, having arisen from that concentration: 'Suppose I were to enter Rājagaha for alms.'"

"At that time, five hundred celestial beings were eager to provide the Venerable Mahākassapa with alms food. Then, the Venerable Mahākassapa, having dismissed those five hundred celestial beings, dressed in the morning, and taking his bowl and robe, entered Rājagaha for alms.

"At that time, Sakka, the King of Gods, desired to give alms food to the Venerable Mahākassapa. Having created the appearance of a weaver, he was weaving the warp, and Sujā, an Asura maiden, was spinning the thread. Then, the Venerable Mahākassapa, wandering for alms in succession in Rājagaha, approached the dwelling of Sakka, the King of Gods. Sakka, the King of Gods, saw the Venerable Mahākassapa coming from afar. Seeing him, he went out of the house to meet him, took the bowl from his hand, entered the house, took rice from a pot, filled the bowl, and gave it to the Venerable Mahākassapa. That alms food was with various soups, various curries, and various flavors. Then, this thought occurred to the Venerable Mahākassapa: 'Who is this being, whose power is so great?' Then, this thought occurred to the Venerable Mahākassapa: 'This is Sakka, the King of Gods.' Knowing this, he said to Sakka, the King of Gods: 'You have done this, Kosiya. Do not do such a thing again.' 'Venerable Kassapa, we too have need of merit, we too have a need to perform meritorious deeds.'"

"Then, Sakka, the King of Gods, having saluted the Venerable Mahākassapa, circumambulated him, rose into the sky, and exclaimed three times in the sky: 'Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa! Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa! Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa!'" (udā. 27).

Then the Blessed One, while staying in the monastery, hearing that sound, addressed the monks, "Do you see, monks, Sakka, the King of Gods, exclaiming and going through the sky?" "What has he done, Venerable Sir?" "Having deceived, he gave alms food to my son Kassapa. Having given that, with a joyful mind, he is exclaiming and going." "How did he know that it was proper to give alms food to the Elder, Venerable Sir?" "Monks, even gods and humans desire a mendicant like my son," saying this, he himself exclaimed. In the Sutta, only this much is mentioned -

"The Blessed One heard with the divine ear element, purified and surpassing the human, Sakka, the King of Gods, rising into the sky and exclaiming three times in the sky, 'Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa! Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa! Oh, the gift is the supreme gift, well-established in Kassapa!'" (udā. 27).

Then, the Blessed One, having understood this matter, at that time, uttered this exclamation -

"For a mendicant who lives on alms food,
Who is self-supporting and not nourished by another;
The gods envy such a one,
Who is peaceful and always mindful." (udā. 27);

Having uttered this exclamation, "Monks, Sakka, the King of Gods, having come because of the virtue fragrance of my son, gave alms food," and he spoke this verse -

56.

"Limited is this fragrance, that of tagara and sandalwood;
But the fragrance of the virtuous wafts supreme among the gods."

Appamattoti: of limited measure. Yo ca sīlavataṃ: that virtue fragrance of the virtuous ones, that is not as limited as tagara or red sandalwood, but is exceedingly abundant and widespread. For that reason, vāti devesu uttamo: being excellent and superior, it wafts everywhere among gods and humans, spreading and going.

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruits beginning with Stream-entry. The discourse was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Tenth Story about the Alms Food Given to Mahākassapa Thera.

11. The Story of Godhika Thera's Parinibbāna

Tesaṃsampannasīlānaṃ: This Dhamma discourse was spoken by the Teacher while dwelling at Rājagaha in the Bamboo Grove, concerning the Parinibbāna of Godhika Thera.

The Venerable Godhika, dwelling on the Black Rock on the side of Mount Isigili, being diligent, ardent, and resolute, having touched the temporary liberation of mind (sāmāyikaṃ cetovimuttiṃ), fell away from it due to a recurring illness. He generated jhāna a second time, a third time, and up to six times, but he declined. In the seventh instance, having produced jhāna, he thought, "I have declined from jhāna six times. For one who has declined from jhāna, the destination is uncertain. Now I will use the knife," and taking a razor, he lay down on his bed to cut his throat. Māra, knowing his thought, thought, "This bhikkhu wants to use the knife. Those who use the knife are without regard for life. Having established insight, they can even attain Arahatship. If I dissuade him, he will not heed my words. I will get the Teacher to dissuade him," and disguised, he approached the Teacher and said this -

"Great Hero, of great wisdom, blazing with power and glory;
Having gone beyond all fear of danger, I bow to your feet, O Seer.

"Your disciple, Great Hero, slayer of death;
Desires and intends death, prevent him, O Radiant One.

"How could a disciple of yours, Blessed One, delighting in the Dispensation;
A trainee who has not attained his aim, make his end, so people say?" (saṃ. ni. 1.159);

At that moment, the Elder had used the knife. The Teacher, knowing that this was Māra, spoke this verse -

"Thus do the wise act, they do not long for life;
Having uprooted craving with its root, Godhika is fully extinguished." (saṃ. ni. 1.159);

Then the Blessed One, together with many bhikkhus, went to the place where the Elder had laid down his alms bowl and robe. At that moment, Māra the Evil One, thinking, "Where has his consciousness found a resting place?" like a mass of smoke, like a heap of darkness, searched in all directions for the Elder's consciousness. The Blessed One, showing that smoky, dark state to the bhikkhus, said, "Indeed, bhikkhus, this is Māra the Evil One searching for the consciousness of the clansman Godhika, 'Where has the consciousness of the clansman Godhika found a resting place?' But, bhikkhus, the clansman Godhika has attained Nibbāna with consciousness that has found no resting place." Māra, unable to see the place of his consciousness, took the form of a young boy, took a beluva-colored lute, approached the Teacher, and asked:

"Upwards, downwards, across, directions, intermediate directions, everywhere I seek, but I do not find him; where has that Godhika gone?" (saṃ. ni. 1.159);

Then the Teacher said to him:

"He who is wise, endowed with fortitude, meditative, always delighting in meditation,
Applying himself day and night, not desiring life.

"Having conquered the army of death, not coming again to rebirth,
Having uprooted craving with its root, Godhika has attained Nibbāna." (saṃ. ni. 1.159);

When this was said, Māra the Evil One addressed the Blessed One in verse:

"Then, from him who was overcome with sorrow, the lute fell from his armpit;
Then that Yaksha, with a grieving mind, vanished right there." (saṃ. ni. 1.159);

The Teacher said, "What is the use to you, Evil One, of the place of the clansman Godhika's Nibbāna? Even a hundred or a thousand like you cannot see his place of Nibbāna," and spoke this verse:

57.

"Māra does not find the path of those who are accomplished in virtue, who live diligently,
And who are freed by right knowledge."

Tesaṃ: Just as the clansman Godhika attained Nibbāna with consciousness that found no resting place, and those who attain Nibbāna in this way, sampannasīlānaṃ: those who are accomplished in virtue. Appamādavihārinaṃ: those who live with diligence, which is synonymous with the non-abandonment of mindfulness. Sammadaññā vimuttānaṃ: those who are freed by right knowledge, having known by reason, by cause, with the reason "by temporary liberation, by liberation through suppression, by liberation through eradication, by liberation through tranquilization, by liberation through escape," they are freed by these five liberations. Māro maggaṃ na vindati: Māra, even with all his power, does not find, does not obtain, does not see the path of those great khīṇāsavas who are of such a nature, whose path is gone.

At the end of the discourse, many attained the fruits beginning with Stream-entry. The discourse was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Story of the Nibbāna of the Elder Godhika is the Eleventh.

12. The Story of Garahadinna

Yathā saṅkāraṭṭhānasmiṃ: This Dhamma discourse was given by the Teacher while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning a Nigaṇṭha disciple named Garahadinna.

In Sāvatthi, there were two friends, Sirigutta and Garahadinna. Among them, Sirigutta was a lay follower, a disciple of the Buddha, and Garahadinna was a disciple of the Nigaṇṭhas. The Nigaṇṭhas frequently said this: "Tell your friend Sirigutta, 'Why do you approach the ascetic Gotama? What will you gain in his presence?' so that he will come to us and give us his offerings. Is it not proper to advise him thus?" Hearing their words, Garahadinna would frequently go to Sirigutta in places where he was standing, sitting, etc., and advise him thus: "Friend, what is the use to you of the ascetic Gotama? What will you gain by approaching him? Is it not proper for you to come to me, venerable sir, and give offerings to them?" Even after hearing his words, Sirigutta remained silent for many days. Having become disgusted, one day he said, "Friend, you come often and say this to me in places where I am standing, etc., 'What will you gain by approaching the ascetic Gotama? Come to me, venerable sir, and give offerings to them.' Tell me, what do your teachers know?" "O master, do not speak thus. There is nothing unknown to my teachers. They know everything, past, future, and present, all actions of body, speech, and mind, 'This will happen, this will not happen.' They know all that is possible and impossible." "You say this?" "Yes, I say it." "If so, you have done a very great disservice to me by not telling me this matter for so long. Today I have known the power of knowledge of your teachers. Go, friend, invite your teachers in my name." Going to the Nigaṇṭhas, he paid homage to them and said, "My friend Sirigutta invites you for tomorrow." "Were you told this by Sirigutta himself?" "Yes, venerable sirs." Delighted, they said, "Our task is accomplished. What prosperity will not be ours from the time Sirigutta is pleased with us?"

Sirigutta also had a large mansion. In it, between two houses, he had a long ditch dug on both sides and filled it with a mixture of excrement. On both ends of the outer ditch, he had stakes driven in and had ropes tied to them. He placed the front legs of the seats on the near side of the ditch and the back legs on the ropes. Thinking, "When they sit down, they will fall headfirst," he had coverings placed over the seats so that the ditch would not be visible. He had large pots placed and had their mouths covered with banana leaves and white cloths. He had them placed outside the back of the house, empty, but made to appear as if they were filled with rice gruel, cooked rice, leftover rice, ghee, oil, honey, molasses, and cakes mixed with flour. In the morning, Garahadinna went to his house with haste and asked, "Is the preparation for the teachers ready?" "Yes, friend, it is ready." "Where is it?" "The gruel is filled in so many pots, the rice in so many, and the ghee, molasses, cakes, etc., are filled in so many. The seats are arranged." He said, "Good," and left. After he had left, five hundred Nigaṇṭhas arrived. Sirigutta came out of the house, paid homage to the Nigaṇṭhas with the fivefold prostration, and stood before them with his hands clasped, thinking thus: "You supposedly know everything, including the past, etc., so I was told by my attendant. If you know everything, do not enter my house. For those who enter my house, there is neither gruel nor cooked rice, etc. If you enter without knowing, I will throw you into the excrement ditch and beat you." Thinking thus, he gave a signal to the men. Knowing how they were seated, he stood on the far side and removed the coverings from the seats, lest they be soiled by filth.

Then he said to the Nigaṇṭhas, "Come this way, venerable sirs." The Nigaṇṭhas began to sit on the prepared seats. Then the men said, "Wait, venerable sirs, do not sit down yet." "Why?" "It is proper for the venerable sirs, having entered our house, to sit down knowing the custom." "What should be done, friend?" "Standing at the base of your respective seats, you should all sit down at once with a single movement." His intention was this: "If one falls into the ditch, let him not be able to say, 'Friends, the rest should not sit on the seats.'" They thought, "It is proper for us to do as they have said," and all stood in order at the base of their respective seats. Then, saying, "Venerable sirs, sit down quickly with a single movement," and knowing that they were sitting, he removed the coverings from the seats. The Nigaṇṭhas sat down at once. The legs of the seats, placed on the ropes, broke, and the Nigaṇṭhas fell headfirst into the ditch. With them fallen, Sirigutta closed the door and, beating those who were trying to get out with clubs, said, "Why do you not know the past, future, and present?" and opened the door, saying, "This much will be enough for them." They came out and began to flee. On the path of departure, however, he had the plaster-finished ground made slippery. There, stumbling and falling, he beat them again and dismissed them, saying, "Enough is enough for you." Crying, "You have ruined us, you have ruined us," they went to the door of their attendant's house.

Seeing that disaster, Garahadinna became angry and, thinking, "Sirigutta has ruined me. He has brought disaster upon my teachers, who are worthy of offerings, capable of giving as they please in the world with its devas, a field of merit," he went to the royal court and had a thousand kahāpaṇas imposed as a fine on him. Then the king sent a message to him. Going and paying homage to the king, he said, "O king, take the fine after investigation, not without investigation." "I will take it after investigation." "Good, O king." "Then take it." "O king, my friend, a disciple of the Nigaṇṭhas, comes to me often in places where I am standing, sitting, etc., and says thus: 'Friend, what is the use to you of the ascetic Gotama? What will you gain by approaching him?'" Beginning with this, Sirigutta related all that had happened. "O king, if it is proper to take a fine in this case, take it." The king looked at Garahadinna and said, "Is it true that you said this?" "It is true, O king." "You, taking teachers who do not know even this much and going about saying, 'They know everything,' why did you speak thus to a disciple of the Tathāgata? Let the fine that you imposed be upon you alone." Thus, the fine was imposed on him that very day, and his own servants beat him and took him away.

Being angry with him, from that time onwards, he did not speak with Sirigutta for about half a month and thought, "It is not proper for me to go about thus. I must also bring disaster upon his servants." Approaching Sirigutta, he said, "Friend Sirigutta?" "What, friend?" "There is even strife and dispute among relatives and friends. Why have you not said anything? Why do you do thus?" "Friend, I do not speak because you do not speak with me." "What was done, friend, was done. We will not break our friendship." From then on, both stood and sat in the same place. Then one day, Sirigutta said to Garahadinna, "What is the use to you of the Nigaṇṭhas? What will you gain by approaching them? Is it not proper for you to approach my Teacher or to give offerings to your teachers?" He was expecting this very thing. It was like scratching with a fingernail in a place that itches. He asked, "Sirigutta, what does your Teacher know?" "Good sir, do not speak thus. There is nothing that my Teacher does not know. He knows everything, including the past, etc. He discerns the minds of beings in sixteen ways." "I did not know this. Why have you not told me for so long? Then you go and invite your Teacher for tomorrow. I will feed him. Tell him to accept my alms with five hundred bhikkhus."

Sirigutta, approaching the Teacher, paid homage and said: "Venerable sir, my friend Garahadinna invites you. Please accept his meal tomorrow along with five hundred monks. Yesterday, I mentioned to his family about doing this and that, but I do not know what he has prepared, nor do I know if he intends to give alms with a pure heart. If, upon consideration, it seems appropriate, please accept. If not, please do not accept." The Teacher, reflecting, considered, "What does he intend to do to us?" and saw, "He has had a large pit dug between two houses, and having brought eighty cartloads of acacia wood, he has filled it and set it on fire, intending to trap us in the charcoal pit and destroy us." Again, he reflected, "Is there any benefit dependent on going there, or not?" Then he saw this: "I will extend my foot into the charcoal pit, and the covering of interwoven branches will disappear. Splitting the charcoal pit, a great lotus the size of a wheel will arise, then I will step onto the lotus's filaments and sit on the seat, and the five hundred monks will also go and sit in the same way. A great crowd will gather, and in that assembly, I will give a discourse with two verses, and at the conclusion of the discourse, eighty-four thousand beings will attain the Dhamma, and both Sirigutta and Garahadinna will become stream-enterers, and they will scatter their wealth in the Dispensation. It is fitting that I go, relying on this clansman." He accepted the meal.

Sirigutta, going, informed Garahadinna of the Teacher's acceptance, saying, "Make preparations for the World's Greatest One." Garahadinna thought, "Now I will know what is fitting to do for him," and having had a large pit dug between two houses, and having brought eighty cartloads of acacia wood, filled it, and set it on fire, joining together piles of acacia charcoal, he had them fanned all night and made a heap of acacia charcoal. He then had branches of trees placed on top of the pit, covered it with interwoven branches, plastered it with cow dung, and spread a weak stick on one side, making a path for walking, thinking, "When they step on it, the sticks will break, and they will fall headfirst into the charcoal pit." In the rear of the house, just as Sirigutta had arranged beforehand, he had pots placed, and seats arranged in the same way. Sirigutta, early in the morning, went to his house and said, "Friend, is your preparation done?" "Yes, friend." "Where is it?" "Come, let us see." He showed everything in the manner shown by Sirigutta. Sirigutta said, "Good, friend." A great crowd gathered. Because he was invited by a person of wrong view, there was a great gathering. Those of wrong view gathered thinking, "We will see the harm done to the ascetic Gotama," and those of right view gathered thinking, "Today the Teacher will deliver a great Dhamma talk, and we will observe the Buddha's realm and the Buddha's grace."

The next day, the Teacher, along with five hundred monks, went to Garahadinna's house door. He, coming out of the house, having bowed with the five-point prostration, stood with his hands clasped in front, thinking: "Venerable sir, my attendant has told me that ‘you know everything, past and future, and discern the minds of beings in sixteen ways.’ If you know, do not enter my house, for there is neither rice-gruel nor other food for those who have entered. In fact, I will trap you all by throwing you into the charcoal pit and destroying you." Thinking thus, having taken the Buddha’s bowl, he said, "Come this way, Lord," saying, "Venerable sir, it is fitting to come knowing the custom for those who have come to our house." "What is fitting to do, friend?" "It is fitting for each one to enter, go forward, and when seated, for another to come behind." Thus, it occurred to him: "Seeing the one going forward fall into the charcoal pit, the rest will not come; I will trap and destroy them one by one." The Teacher, saying, "Good," proceeded alone. Garahadinna, standing aside at the charcoal pit, said, "Go forward, Venerable sir." Then the Teacher extended his foot onto the middle of the charcoal pit; the covering disappeared, and splitting the charcoal pit, lotuses the size of wheels arose. The Teacher, stepping on the filaments of the lotuses, went and sat on the prepared Buddha seat, and the monks also went and sat in the same way. Heat arose from Garahadinna's body.

He quickly went to Sirigutta and said, "Master, be my refuge!" "What is this?" "There is no rice-gruel or other food in the house for five hundred monks; what shall I do?" "What have you done?" he asked. "I have had a large pit between the two houses filled with charcoal, intending to trap them by throwing them in there." "Then splitting it, great lotuses arose. All, stepping on the filaments of the lotuses, went and sat on the prepared seats. What do I do now, master?" "Just now you showed me, ‘So many pots, so much rice-gruel, so many curries.’" "That was a lie, master; the pots are empty." "Let it be, go and look into those pots for rice-gruel and other things." At that very moment, the pots in which he said, "rice-gruel," were filled with rice-gruel, and those in which he said "other food" were completely full of other food. Seeing that accomplishment, Garahadinna's body was filled with joy and delight, and his mind was pleased. He respectfully served the Saṅgha of monks with the Buddha at its head, and wanting the Teacher to give thanks after the meal was finished, he took the bowl. The Teacher, giving thanks, said, "These beings, due to the lack of the eye of wisdom, do not know the qualities of my disciples or the Buddha's Dispensation. Those without the eye of wisdom are called blind, and the wise are called those with sight," and spoke these verses:

58.

"As in a refuse heap, discarded on the highway,
A lotus may grow, sweet-smelling and delightful.

59.

"Even so, among those become like rubbish, among the blind ordinary people,
The disciple of the rightly enlightened Buddha shines forth with wisdom."

Saṅkāradhānasmiṃ: In a place for refuse, in a heap of rubbish, is the meaning. Ujjhitasmiṃ mahāpathe: Discarded on the highway. Sucigandhaṃ: Sweet-smelling. Manoramaṃ: Delightful, because the mind delights in it. Saṅkārabhūtesu: Among those who have become like rubbish. Puthujjane: In the world's great multitude, so named because it generates manifold defilements. This is what was said: Just as a sweet-smelling lotus might grow in a heap of refuse discarded on the highway, even in a foul, disgusting, and repulsive place, that lotus would be delightful, beloved, and pleasing to kings, great ministers, and others, and worthy of being placed on the uppermost part. Even so, born among ordinary people who have become like rubbish, even though he has arisen in the midst of the unwise, the sightless multitude, by the power of his own wisdom, having seen the danger in sense pleasures and the benefit in renunciation, having gone forth and ordained, even by the mere act of ordination, having cultivated the superior qualities of morality, concentration, wisdom, liberation, and the knowledge and vision of liberation, he shines forth. For the bhikkhu who is a disciple of the perfectly enlightened Buddha, the arahant, surpasses, shines, and is resplendent among the blind ordinary people.

At the end of the discourse, eighty-four thousand beings attained the Dhamma. Garahadinna and Sirigutta attained the fruit of stream-entry. They scattered all their wealth in the Buddha's Dispensation. The Teacher, rising from the seat, went to the monastery. The monks, in the evening, started a discussion in the Dhamma hall: "How wonderful are the qualities of the Buddha! Lotuses arose, splitting such a heap of acacia charcoal." The Teacher, coming and asking, "Monks, with what discussion are you gathered here now?" and being told, "With this one," said, "It is not a wonder, monks, that lotuses arose from the heap of charcoal for me, now that I am a Buddha. They arose even for me when I was a Bodhisatta, still developing knowledge," and being asked, "When, venerable sir? Tell us," he brought forth the past:

"I would rather fall into hell, upside down, head first,
Than do what is un-Aryan. Here, accept the alms." (jā. 1.1.40) –

He extensively narrated the Khadiraṅgāra Jātaka.

The Story of Garahadinna, the Twelfth.

The Commentary on the Flower Chapter is Finished.

The Fourth Chapter.

5. The Chapter on Fools

1. The Story of a Certain Man

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, "Long is the night for the wakeful", while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning Pasenadi Kosala and a certain man.

It seems that King Pasenadi Kosala, on a certain festival day, mounted a fully adorned white elephant named Puṇḍarīka and was making a circumambulation of the city with great royal pomp. As the announcement was being made, the great crowd, being struck with clods and sticks, fled, but still kept looking back, turning their necks. It seems that this is the fruit of giving generously for kings. Also, the wife of a certain poor man, standing on the upper floor of a seven-storied mansion, opened a window and looked at the king and then went away. The king appeared like the full moon entering among the clouds. He, with his mind attached to her, as if about to fall from the elephant's neck, quickly made a circumambulation of the city and, entering the inner palace, said to a trusted minister: "In such-and-such a place, I saw a mansion that you saw." "Yes, your majesty." "I saw a woman there?" "I saw her, your majesty." "Go and find out whether she is married or unmarried." He went and, finding out that she was married, came back and reported to the king, "She is married." Then, when the king said, "Then summon her husband," he went and said, "Come, sir, the king summons you." He, thinking, "It must be due to fear arising on account of my wife," unable to refuse the king's command, went and paid homage to the king and stood there. Then the king said to him, "Attend to me from now on." "Enough, your majesty, I will do my own work and pay you taxes; let me have my livelihood at home." "I have no need of your taxes; attend to me from today," and he had him given a shield and a weapon. Thus, it occurred to him: "Having made him commit some offense, I will have him killed and take his wife." Then he, fearing the fear of death, attended to him diligently.

The king, not seeing any fault in him, but with lust growing, thought, "After attributing some fault to him, I will execute him," and summoning him, said, "My good man, go to such-and-such a place on the river, a yojana away from here, and bring me water lilies, lotuses, and aruṇavatī clay by my bathing time this evening. If you don't come at that moment, I will execute you." It seems the servant was more afflicted than even the four types of slaves. Slaves bought with money and so on can at least say, "My head hurts, my back hurts," and lie down. That is not possible for a servant; he must do as he is commanded. Therefore, thinking, "I must go, but where will I find aruṇavatī clay, which grows in the Nāga-realm, along with water lilies and lotuses?" and terrified by the fear of death, he quickly went home and said, "My dear, my meal is finished." "It's on top of the stove, sir." While he was taking down the meal, being unable to bear it, he had some rice-gruel brought with a ladle and crammed the rice, still warm, into a bundle, along with whatever relish he could find, and set off on the yojana-long journey. As he was going, the rice became fully cooked. After making it uncontaminated, he removed a little rice, thinking, "Let me eat," when he saw a traveler and thought, "There is a little uncontaminated rice that I removed and set aside; take it and eat, sir." He took it and ate. The other man also ate, and after throwing a handful of rice into the water and rinsing his mouth, he loudly proclaimed, "May the Nāgas, supaṇṇas, and deities dwelling in this river region hear my words! The king, wishing to execute me, commanded me, 'Bring aruṇavatī clay along with water lilies and lotuses!' And I gave rice to a traveler, which is worth a thousand blessings, and to the fish in the water, which is worth a hundred blessings. I transfer the merit of this to you; bring me aruṇavatī clay along with water lilies and lotuses!" The Nāga king dwelling there, hearing that sound, went to him in the guise of an old man and said, "What are you saying?" He repeated the same thing again, and when asked, "Give me that merit," he said, "I give it." When asked again, "Give it to me," he said, "I give it, sir." Thus, after having him offer the merit two or three times, he gave him aruṇavatī clay along with water lilies and lotuses.

But the king thought, "People are very deceitful; if he gets it by some means, my purpose will not be fulfilled." Early in the morning, he had the gate closed and the signet ring brought to him. The other man, arriving at the king's bathing time and not finding the gate open, called the gatekeeper and said, "Open the gate!" "It is not possible to open it; the king had the signet ring given and brought to the palace early in the morning." Even after saying, "I am the king's messenger, open the gate!" and not finding the gate open, he thought, "I have no life now. What shall I do?" He threw a lump of clay on the lintel above the gate, stuck flowers on it, and making a great noise, cried out three times, "Listen, citizens, know that I have gone by order of the king, but the king wants to destroy me for no reason!" Then, thinking, "Where shall I go?" he decided, "Monks are kind-hearted; I will go to the monastery and lie down." For these beings, without knowing the existence of monks in happy times, want to go to the monastery when overwhelmed by suffering, so he also, thinking, "There is no other refuge for me," went to the monastery and lay down in a secluded place. Then, the king, unable to sleep that night, remembering that woman, felt lust arising. He thought, "As soon as dawn breaks, I will have that man killed and bring that woman."

"I heard these sounds: du-iti, sa-iti, na-iti, so-iti. Investigate their origin!" Like a brahmin entering deep darkness, nothing was clear to the brahmin. When he said, "I do not know," fearing, "My gain and honor will diminish," he said, "A grave matter, great king!" "What is it, teacher?" "I see a danger to your life." He was twice as frightened. "Teacher, is there any way to avert it?" he asked. "There is, great king, do not fear; I know the three Vedas." "What should be obtained?" "You will obtain life by performing a sabbasatayañña sacrifice, Your Majesty." "What should be obtained?" Taking a hundred each of elephants, horses, bulls, cows, goats, rams, chickens, pigs, boys, and girls, he instructed them to take each kind of living being in hundreds, thinking, "If I have them take only animals, they will say, 'He is having them take only what is edible for himself,'" so he had them take elephants, horses, and people as well. The king, thinking, "My life itself is a gain for me," said, "Quickly, seize all beings!" The people who were ordered seized even more. This was also said in the Kosala-saṃyutta:

"Now at that time, a great sacrifice of King Pasenadi of Kosala was being prepared, and five hundred bulls, five hundred bullocks, five hundred heifers, five hundred goats, and five hundred rams were led to the post for the sacrifice. And those who were his slaves, messengers, or workers were driven by sticks and fear, with tearful faces, weeping as they performed their tasks" (saṃ. ni. 1.120).

The great crowd, lamenting for the sake of their sons, daughters, and relatives, made a great noise, which was like the sound of the earth trembling. Then Queen Mallikā, hearing that sound, went to the king and asked, "Great king, are your senses acting strangely, appearing to be exhausted?" "What is it to you, Mallikā? You do not even know if poison is going past the base of my ear?" "What is it, Your Majesty?" "In the middle of the night, I heard such a sound. Then, after asking the chaplain, I heard, 'There will be danger to your life, and you will obtain life by performing a sabbasatayañña sacrifice, seizing all beings and sacrificing them with their throat blood.' Thinking, 'My life itself is a gain for me,' I had these beings seized." Queen Mallikā said, "You are a blind fool, great king! Although you are a great eater, consuming a doṇa-measure of food with various curries and sauces, and you rule in two kingdoms, your wisdom is weak!" "Why do you say that, my queen?" "Where have you ever seen someone gain life through the death of another? Why do you take the words of a foolish brahmin and inflict suffering on the great crowd? In the Dhuravihāra dwells the Teacher, the foremost person in the world with its deities, whose knowledge is unhindered in the past and so on. Ask him and follow his advice!" When she said this, the king, in light carriages, went with Mallikā to the monastery, and terrified by the fear of death, unable to say anything, he paid homage to the Teacher and sat down to one side.

Then the Teacher first addressed him, "Well then, great king, where are you coming from in the middle of the day?" He sat in silence. Then Mallikā informed the Blessed One, "Venerable sir, the king heard a sound in the middle watch of the night. Then he told the chaplain, who said, 'There will be danger to your life, and to avert it, you will obtain life by seizing all beings and sacrificing them in a sacrifice with their throat blood.' The king had the beings seized, and that is why I brought him here now." "Is that so, great king?" "Yes, venerable sir." "What sound did you hear?" He described the sound exactly as he had heard it. As soon as the Tathāgata heard it, a light shone. Then the Teacher said to him, "Do not fear, great king, there is no danger to you. The Teacher of evil-doers, revealing their suffering, spoke thus." "What have they done, venerable sir?" Then, to describe their deed, the Blessed One said, "In that case, great king, listen!" and related the past:

In the past, when humans lived for twenty thousand years, the Blessed One Kassapa arose in the world, and while wandering on tour with twenty thousand khīṇāsavas, he went to Bārāṇasī. The residents of Bārāṇasī, two, three, or many together, established the giving of alms to newcomers. At that time, there were four wealthy sons in Bārāṇasī, each possessing forty crores, who were friends. They consulted, "We have much wealth in our homes; what shall we do with it?" "When such a Buddha is wandering on tour, we will give alms, keep precepts, and offer worship," but not one of them said that. One of them said, "We will wander around drinking strong liquor and eating delicious meat; this is the fruit of our life." Another said, "We will wander around eating rice from three-year-old fragrant paddy with various excellent sauces every day." Another said, "We will wander around cooking and eating various kinds of cakes and confectionery." Another said, "We will certainly not do anything else. There is no woman who does not desire when told, 'I will give wealth.' Therefore, we will seduce them with wealth and commit adultery." "Good, good!" they all approved of his words.

From then on, they sent wealth to beautiful women and committed adultery for twenty thousand years, and after dying, they were reborn in Avīci hell. After suffering in hell for one Buddha-interval, having died there, due to the remaining effect of their karma, they were reborn in a sixty-yojana-wide copper pot. After thirty thousand years, they reached the bottom, and after another thirty thousand years, they reached the mouth of the copper pot. Desiring to speak a single verse, unable to speak, they spoke a single syllable and then turned back, entering the copper pot again. "Tell me, great king, what was the first sound you heard?" "Du-iti, venerable sir." The Teacher, completing the verse spoken incompletely by them, revealed it thus:

"Badly have we lived our life,
We who gave not to the virtuous.
Possessing wealth at hand,
We made no island for ourselves." (jā. 1.4.53; pe. va. 804);

Then, after revealing the meaning of that verse to the king, asking, "Great king, what was the second sound, the third sound, the fourth sound that you heard?" and when he said, "It was such-and-such," completing the remainder, he said:

"Sixty thousand years,
Completely full,
While suffering in hell,
When will there be an end?

"There is no end, from where an end?
No end is visible.
Then was evil done,
By me and you, dear friend.

"Surely I, having gone from here,
Having obtained a human birth,
Generous and accomplished in virtue,
Will do much good." (jā. 1.4.54-56; pe. va. 802, 803, 805) –

After speaking these verses in order and revealing their meaning, he said, "Thus, great king, those four people, even desiring to speak a single verse, were unable to speak, but spoke only one syllable and then entered the copper pot again."

It is said that from the time King Pasenadi Kosala heard that sound, those people kept abusing them below, and even now, a thousand years have not passed. Having heard that teaching, the king felt great dismay. He thought, "Indeed, adultery is a grave matter. After suffering in hell for an entire Buddha-interval, and then being reborn in a sixty-yojana copper cauldron, suffering there for sixty thousand years, even then there is no known end to their suffering. I, too, having lusted after another's wife, could not get sleep all night. From now on, I will not fix my mind on another's wife." Thinking thus, he said to the Tathāgata, "Venerable sir, today I have understood the length of the night." That man, sitting right there, having heard that conversation, thinking "I have obtained a strong reason (for my belief)," said to the Teacher, "Venerable sir, the king has understood the length of the night today, but I myself knew the length of a yojana yesterday." The Teacher, connecting both their stories, said, "For some, the night is long; for some, a yojana is long; but for the fool, saṃsāra is long," and while teaching the Dhamma, he spoke this verse:

60.

"Long is the night for the wakeful, long is the yojana for the weary;
Long is saṃsāra for fools who do not know the Good Dhamma."

Dīghā (Long): The night is only three watches long, but for the wakeful, it is long, appearing as if doubled or tripled. A very lazy person, making himself food for a swarm of bedbugs and tossing and turning until sunrise, does not know its length, nor does a sensualist enjoying fine food and lying on a fine bed. But the yogi striving all night, the Dhamma-speaker speaking Dhamma, the one standing near the seat listening to Dhamma, or one afflicted by a head ailment, etc., or subjected to the severing of hands and feet, etc., overwhelmed by pain, or the traveler who has set out on a road at night, knows it. Yojana: A yojana is only four gāvutas, but for santassa (the weary), the exhausted one, it is dīghaṃ (long), appearing as if doubled or tripled. For, having traveled the road all day, when weary, seeing someone coming along the road, he asks, "How far is the village ahead?" and when told, "A yojana," he goes a little further and asks another, and is told, "A yojana." Again, he goes a little further and asks another. That one also says, "A yojana." Those who are asked keep saying only "a yojana." "This yojana is long," he thinks, "like two or three yojanas." Bālānaṃ (For fools): For fools who do not know what is beneficial in this world and the next, who are unable to put an end to the round of saṃsāra; that saddhammaṃ avijānataṃ (for those who do not know the Good Dhamma), by knowing which, distinguished as the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment, they bring about the end of saṃsāra, for them, saṃsāro dīgho (saṃsāra is long). For indeed, it is long by its very nature. It was also said, "This saṃsāra, monks, is without discoverable beginning. No first point is discernible" (saṃ. ni. 2.124). But for fools who are unable to bring it to an end, it is exceedingly long.

At the end of the teaching, that man attained the fruit of stream-entry, and many others also attained the fruits of stream-entry, etc. Thus, the Dhamma teaching was beneficial to the great multitude.

The king, having paid homage to the Teacher and while departing, released those beings from bondage. There, the women and men, freed from bondage, having washed their heads and going to their own homes, spoke of Mallikā’s virtues, saying, "May our lady, Mallikā Devī, live long. Because of her, we have obtained life." In the evening, the monks raised a discussion in the Dhamma hall: "Indeed, this Mallikā is wise; relying on her own wisdom, she gave the gift of life to so many people." The Teacher, sitting in the Perfumed Chamber, having heard the talk of those monks, went out from the Perfumed Chamber, entered the Dhamma hall, sat on the prepared seat, and asked, "With what discussion are you assembled now, monks?" When they said, "With this one," he said, "Not only now, monks, does Mallikā Devī give the gift of life to the great multitude relying on her own wisdom, she also gave it in the past," and revealing that matter, he brought forth the past:

In the past, in Bārāṇasī, the king's son, approaching a banyan tree, made a request to the deity who resided there: "O lord, king of the gods, in this Jambudīpa there are one hundred and one kings and one hundred and one chief queens. If I obtain the kingdom upon my father's death, I will make a blood sacrifice to you with their blood." When his father died, he obtained the kingdom, thinking, "I obtained the kingdom through the deity's power, I will make a sacrifice to it," and setting out with a great army, having brought one king under his control, then another along with him, and another, in this way, having brought all the kings under his control along with their chief queens, while going, the chief queen named Dhammadinnā, of the youngest king of all named Uggasena, was heavy with child. Leaving her behind, he came, making the area at the foot of the tree clean, thinking, "Having made so many people drink poison, I will kill them." The deity thought, "This king, while seizing so many kings, thinks, 'These were seized by me,' intending to make a sacrifice to me with their blood. But if he kills these, the royal lineage in Jambudīpa will be cut off, and the foot of the tree will become impure for me. Will I be able to prevent this?" While considering, knowing, "I will not be able to," she approached another deity and announced this matter, saying, "Will you be able to?" Having been refused by her also, approaching another and another, in this way, having approached all the deities in the universe and being refused by them, she went to the four Great Kings, "We are not able, but our king is superior to us in merit and wisdom; ask him." When she was refused by them also, approaching Sakka, she announced that matter, "O deva, if you become inattentive, the khattiya lineage will be cut off; be a refuge for it." Sakka, saying, "I will not be able to ward him off, but I will tell you a means," indicated the means: "Go, wearing red clothes and emerging from your tree, show the manner of your going while the king is watching. Then the king will beg you in various ways, 'The deity is going, may I turn her back?' Then you should say to him, 'You brought one hundred and one kings along with their chief queens, requesting of me that you would make a sacrifice to me with their blood, but you left behind the queen of King Uggasena. I do not accept a sacrifice from such a liar.' It is said that when it is said in this way, the king will command her, and she will teach the Dhamma to the king and give the gift of life to so many people." For this reason, Sakka indicated this means to the deity. The deity did so.

The king also commanded her. She, even while all those kings were sitting around, only paid homage to her own king. The king, being angry at her, "While I, the eldest of all the kings, am present, she pays homage to her own, the youngest, husband!" Then she said to him, "What is bound to me in you? But this one is the giver of fortune; why would I pay homage to you without paying homage to him?" The tree deity, while the great multitude was watching, said, "So it is, good lady, so it is, good lady," and honored her with handfuls of flowers. Again, the king said, "If you do not pay homage to me, why do you not pay homage to the deity who is the giver of royal fortune and so powerful?" "Great king, you seized the kings while standing on your own merit, not given by the deity." Again, that deity, saying, "So it is, good lady, so it is, good lady," honored her in that same way. Again, she said to the king, "You say, 'So many kings were seized and given to me by the deity.' Now, on the left side above the deity, the tree is burned by fire. Why was she not able to extinguish that fire, if she is so powerful?" Again, that deity, saying, "So it is, good lady, so it is, good lady," honored her in that same way.

While speaking, she stood both crying and laughing. Then the king said to her, "Are you crazy?" "Why do you say so, deva (king)?" "Those like me are not crazy." Then, "For what reason do you both cry and laugh?" "Listen, great king, in the past, having been a daughter of a good family and living in the husband's family, seeing a friend of the husband's family who had come as a guest, wanting to cook food for him, giving a kahāpaṇa to the maidservant, saying, 'Bring meat,' when she came back without obtaining meat, saying, 'There is no meat,' I cut off the head of a goat that was lying down in the western part of the house and prepared the food. I, for cutting off the head of one goat, having suffered in hell, with the remaining effect, I reached the cutting off of heads according to the number of hairs. 'Having killed so many people, when will you be freed from suffering?' Thus, remembering your suffering, I cry," and saying this, she spoke this verse:

"Having cut off the neck of one, I suffered according to the number of hairs;
Having cut off the necks of many, what will you do, khattiya?"

Then, "Why do you laugh?" "Rejoicing, 'I am freed from this suffering,' great king." Again, that deity, saying, "So it is, good lady, so it is, good lady," honored her with handfuls of flowers. The king, "Alas, a grave deed has been done by me! Having killed one goat, she reached the cutting off of heads according to the number of hairs with the remaining effect of hell. Having killed so many people, when will I attain well-being?" Having released all the kings, having paid homage to those who were older, having raised his joined palms to those who were younger, having apologized to all, he sent them away to their own places.

The Teacher, having brought forth this Dhamma teaching, said, "So it is, monks, not only now does Mallikā Devī give the gift of life to the great multitude relying on her own wisdom, she also gave it in the past," and he connected the past: "Then, the king of Bārāṇasī was Pasenadi Kosala, Dhammadinnā Devī was Mallikā, and I myself was the tree deity." In this way, having connected the past, while teaching the Dhamma again, "Monks, the taking of life is not something that should be done. For those who take life sorrow for a long time," and he spoke these verses:

"Here he sorrows, hereafter he sorrows,
The evil-doer sorrows in both worlds;
He sorrows, he is tormented,
Seeing his own defiled deed." (dha. pa. 15);

"If beings should know thus: 'Birth is the source of suffering,'
No living being would kill another, for the killer sorrows." (jā. 1.1.18);

The first story about a certain man.

2. The Story of the Pupil of Mahākassapa Thera

Carañce nādhigaccheyya (If, while wandering, one does not meet): The Teacher spoke this Dhamma teaching concerning a pupil of Mahākassapa Thera, while dwelling at Jetavana in Sāvatthi. The teaching arose in Rājagaha.

It is said that two student monks attended to a certain Thera who resided in Pipphali Cave, depending on Rajagaha. Among them, one diligently performed his duties, while the other, showing what was done by him as if done by himself, knowing that the means for washing the mouth and tooth-sticks were ready, would say, "Venerable sir, the means for washing the mouth and tooth-sticks are ready for you, please wash your mouth." He would speak in this way even at the time for washing the feet, bathing, and so on. The other thought, "This one always shows what is done by me as if done by himself; let it be, I will do what is to be done by him." After he had eaten and was about to sleep, he heated bathing water and put it in a pot in the back room, but in the water-heating vessel, he left about a nāḷi measure of water, letting off steam. The other, waking up in the evening, seeing the steam coming out, thought, "The water must have been heated and put in the room." He quickly went, paid homage to the Thera, and said, "Venerable sir, the water has been put in the room, please bathe." And he entered the room together with the Thera. The Thera, not seeing the water, said, "Where is the water, friend?" The young monk went to the fire-hall, lowered a ladle into the vessel, and knowing it was empty, exclaimed, "Look at the deed of the wicked one, having placed an empty vessel on the hearth, where has he gone? I announced it with the understanding that 'there is water in the room,'" and grumbling, he took the pot and went to the bathing place. The other also brought water from the back room and put it in the room.

The Thera thought, "This young monk, having said, 'I heated water and put it in the room, come, venerable sir, bathe,' now grumbling, takes the pot and goes to the bathing place; what could this be?" Considering it, he realized, "For so long, this young monk has been showing the duties done by this one as if done by himself." Coming in the evening and sitting down, he gave him advice, "Friend, a bhikkhu should speak of 'only what has been done by oneself,' not what has not been done. Just now, having said, 'Water has been put in the room, bathe, venerable sir,' and while I was standing having entered the room, you take the pot and go grumbling; it is not proper for one who has gone forth to do such a thing." He, angry, said, "Look at the Thera's deed, just because of a little water, he speaks to me like this," and the next day he did not go for alms with the Thera. The Thera went to one place with the other. When he had gone, he went to the Thera's supporting family and asked, "Where is the Thera, venerable sir?" They said, "The Thera has become unwell, he is sitting in the monastery." "What, venerable sir, should be given?" When they said, "Please give food of such and such a kind," they prepared and gave it according to the instructions he had given. He ate that food on the road itself and went to the monastery. The Thera also, having obtained a large, fine cloth at the place he had gone, gave it to the young monk who had gone with him. He dyed it and made it his lower and upper garment.

The next day, the Thera went to that supporting family and, when they said, "Venerable sir, thinking that 'you have become unwell,' we had food prepared and sent according to the instructions given by the young monk; having eaten it, have you become well?" he remained silent. Going to the monastery, having paid homage to that young monk and sat down, he said thus, "Friend, yesterday you did such and such a thing; this is not suitable for those who have gone forth, it is not proper to beg and eat." He, angry, bore a grudge against the Thera, "The previous day, just because of a little water, he made me a liar, and today, because of eating a handful of alms at his supporting family, he says to me, 'It is not proper to beg and eat'; even the cloth was given to his own supporter. Oh, the Thera's heavy deed, I will know what is to be done by him." The next day, as the Thera was entering the village, he himself stayed behind in the monastery, took a stick, broke the articles for use, set fire to the Thera's leaf hut, and breaking with a mallet whatever did not burn, he went out and fled. He, after dying, was reborn in Avici Great Hell.

The great multitude started a discussion: "It is said that the Thera's student monk, unable to bear just a little advice, got angry, burned down the leaf hut, and fled." Then one bhikkhu, leaving Rajagaha later, wanting to see the Teacher, went to Jetavana and, having paid homage to the Teacher, when the Teacher had exchanged friendly greetings and asked, "From where have you come?" said, "From Rajagaha, venerable sir." "Is it well with my son, Mahakassapa?" "It is well, venerable sir, but one student monk, angry with just a little advice, burned down the leaf hut and fled." The Teacher, said, "Not only now does he get angry hearing advice, he was angry before as well. Not only now does he destroy the hut, he destroyed it before as well," and related the past:

In the past, when Brahmadatta was ruling in Baranasi, a weaverbird made a nest in the Himalayan region and lived there. Then one day, as the gods were raining, a monkey, shivering with cold, came to that place. The weaverbird, seeing him, spoke this verse:

"You have a head like a man's, and hands and feet, O monkey;
But for what reason do you not have a dwelling?" (Jā. 1.4.81);

The monkey, thinking, "Although I have hands and feet, I do not have the wisdom by which to consider and make a dwelling," wanting to make known that meaning, spoke this verse:

"I have a head like a man's, and hands and feet, O weaverbird;
But I do not have the wisdom that is best among men." (Jā. 1.4.82);

Then, scolding him, "How can a householder's life succeed for one like you?" the weaverbird spoke these two verses:

"For one whose mind is unsteady, whose mind is fickle, who is a betrayer of friends;
Who is always of unstable conduct, there is no happiness.

"So do a deed of power, exceed in morality;
Make a hut, O monkey, for protection from cold and wind." (Jā. 1.4.83-84);

The monkey, thinking, "This one makes me out to be of unsteady mind, of fickle mind, a betrayer of friends, of unstable conduct; now I will show him the state of betraying friends," destroyed the nest and scattered it. The bird, as he was seizing the nest, went out on one side and fled.

The Teacher, having brought this Dhamma talk, identified the Jataka: "Then the monkey was the bhikkhu who destroys huts, Kassapa was the weaverbird." Having identified the Jataka, "Thus, bhikkhus, not only now, but before as well, he got angry at the moment of advice and destroyed the hut; for my son Kassapa, living alone is better than living with such a fool," he spoke this verse:

61.

"If one should not find a companion who is better or equal to oneself,
Let one resolutely make the solitary journey; there is no companionship with a fool."

Caraṃ: here, not taking it as the conduct of movement (iriyāpatha), the conduct of mind should be understood, meaning seeking a good friend. Seyyaṃ sadisamattano: if one should not obtain one who is better or equal to oneself in the qualities of morality, concentration, and wisdom. Ekacariyaṃ: for in these cases, obtaining one who is better, one increases in morality, etc.; obtaining one who is equal, one does not decline; but living together with one who is inferior, sharing enjoyment and use together, one declines in morality, etc. Therefore it was said: "Such a person should not be associated with, not be cultivated, not be attended upon, except out of compassion, except out of sympathy" (Pu. Pa. 121; A. Ni. 3.26). Therefore, if, having regard for compassion, not expecting anything from that person, thinking, "Relying on me, this one will increase in morality, etc.," one is able to associate with him, this is skillful. If not able, ekacariyaṃ daḷhaṃ kayirā: one should make the state of being alone firm, one should live alone in all postures. For what reason? Natthi bāle sahāyatā: for companionship means minor morality, intermediate morality, major morality, the ten topics of discussion, the thirteen qualities of the dhutaṅga, the qualities of insight, the four paths, the four fruits, the three knowledges, the six super-knowledges. This quality of companionship does not exist relying on a fool.

At the end of the discourse, the visiting bhikkhu attained the fruit of stream-entry, and many others also attained the fruits of stream-entry, etc.; the discourse was beneficial to the great multitude.

The Second Story about the Student Monk of Mahakassapa Thera.

3. The Story of Ananda the Millionaire

Puttā matthīti, this Dhamma talk, the Teacher spoke concerning Ananda the millionaire, while dwelling at Savatthi.

It is said that in Savatthi there was a millionaire named Ananda, who had forty crores of wealth and was very miserly. He would gather his relatives every fortnight and advise his son, named Mulasiri, three times a day thus: "Do not think that this wealth of forty crores is 'much'; existing wealth should not be given away, new wealth should be produced. For even a single kahapana is only depleted when spent. Therefore—"

"Seeing the depletion of collyrium, and the accumulation of upacika plants;
And the collection of honey, the wise man should live at home."

Later, without telling his son about his five great treasures, stained with the stain of miserliness, he died and was reborn in the womb of a certain caṇḍāla woman in a village near the gate of that same city, where a thousand families of caṇḍālas resided. From the time of his conception, that thousand families of caṇḍālas, who lived by doing work for wages all together, did not receive wages, nor even enough alms to subsist on. They, thinking, "Even now we do not receive even alms of food while doing work, there must be an unlucky one among us," became two groups and, separating until his parents were separate, saying, "An unlucky one has arisen in this family," drove out his mother.

She, too, remained pregnant for the duration, obtaining even meager sustenance with difficulty, and then gave birth to a son. But his hands, feet, eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were not in their proper places. He was extremely deformed with such bodily defects, like a paṃsupisācaka (dust demon). Even so, his mother did not abandon him, for affection is strong for a child carried in the womb. Struggling to raise him, she would take him along, but on days when she found nothing, she would leave him at home and go herself to earn wages. Later, when he was able to sustain himself by begging for alms, she placed an earthen bowl in his hand and said, "Dear son, we have suffered greatly because of you, and now I cannot support you any longer. In this city, there are prepared meals for the poor and destitute; go there to beg and live." So she released him. As he went from house to house, he arrived at the place that had been Ānanda the millionaire’s residence. Being able to remember his past life, he entered his own house. But none of the people at the three gatehouses recognized him. At the fourth gatehouse, the sons of the current millionaire, Mūlasiri, saw him, became frightened, and wept. Then the millionaire's men shouted, "Get out, you unlucky wretch!" and, striking him, threw him out onto the rubbish heap. The Teacher, while going for alms with Ānanda Thera as his attendant monk, reached that place, looked at the Thera, and, when asked, recounted the story. The Thera summoned Mūlasiri. Then a great crowd gathered. The Teacher addressed Mūlasiri and, asking, "Do you know this man?", when he said, "I do not know," the Teacher said, "This is your father, Ānanda the millionaire." When he did not believe it, the Teacher had Ānanda the millionaire reveal to his son the location of his five great treasures, and thus convinced him. He went to the Teacher for refuge. While teaching him the Dhamma, the Teacher spoke this verse:

62.

“'I have sons, I have wealth,' thus the fool is tormented.
Indeed, he himself is not his own, whence sons, whence wealth?”

‘I have sons, I have wealth,’ thus the fool is tormented: The fool is tormented by craving for sons and craving for wealth; is tormented means suffers, "My sons have perished," thus he is tormented, "They are perishing," thus he is tormented, "They will perish," thus he is tormented. The same method applies to wealth. Thus he is tormented in six ways. Even while striving night and day in various ways on land and sea routes thinking, "I will support my sons," he is tormented; even while doing farming, trade, and so on thinking, "I will produce wealth," he is indeed tormented. And for one tormented in this way, indeed, he himself is not his own: since he cannot make his suffering self happy through that destruction, even in his own affairs, he himself is not his own. Lying on his deathbed, being burned up by deadly pains like flames of fire, with the connecting joints being severed, with the collection of bones being broken, even though he looks towards the next world after closing his eyes and looks towards this world after opening them, even though he is bathed twice a day and fed three times a day and adorned with perfumes, garlands, and so on, having been supported for as long as he lives, he himself is not his own, being unable to bring an end to suffering through friendship. Whence sons, whence wealth? What indeed will sons or wealth do for him at that time? Even Ānanda the millionaire, having stored up wealth for his son without giving anything to anyone, either previously or now lying on his deathbed and experiencing this suffering, whence sons, whence wealth? At that time, did sons or wealth remove any suffering or produce any happiness?

At the end of the discourse, eighty-four thousand beings attained the realization of the Dhamma. The discourse was beneficial to the great crowd.

The Story of Ānanda the Millionaire is the Third.

4. The Story of the Pickpocket Thief

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, "He who is foolish," while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning a pickpocket thief.

It is said that two friends, going to Jetavana with a large crowd to hear the Dhamma, one listened to the Dhamma talk, the other watched for an opportunity to steal. Among them, one, listening to the Dhamma, attained the fruit of Stream-entry, the other obtained about five māsaka coins from a robe that belonged to one person. In his house, cooked rice was prepared, but in the other's house, nothing was cooked. Then his friend, deriding him along with his wife, said, "Because you are so clever, you have not even produced the wherewithal for a cooked meal in your own house." But the other, thinking, "Indeed, this man considers himself clever only through foolishness," went with his relatives to Jetavana to report the incident to the Teacher and reported it. The Teacher, teaching him the Dhamma, spoke this verse:

63.

“He who, being foolish, recognizes his folly, is thereby at least wise;
But he who, being foolish, thinks himself wise, he is truly called a ‘fool.’”

He who is foolish: He who, being truly foolish, unwise, recognizes his folly, his foolishness, thinking "I am foolish." Thereby he: For that reason, that person is thereby at least wise or is like the wise. For he, knowing "I am foolish," approaching another wise person, attending upon him, being advised and instructed by him for the sake of wisdom, accepting that advice, becomes wise or wiser. He is truly a fool: But he who, being foolish, thinks, "Who else is as learned, as skilled in Dhamma talks, as versed in the Vinaya, or as upholding the dhutaṅga practices as I am?" Thus, thinking himself wise, not approaching another wise person, not attending upon him, neither learns the scriptures nor perfects the practice, and only attains utter foolishness. He is like the pickpocket thief. Therefore it was said, "He is truly called a 'fool.'"

At the end of the discourse, the large crowd, together with the other man's relatives, attained the fruits beginning with Stream-entry.

The Story of the Pickpocket Thief is the Fourth.

5. The Story of Udāyi Thera

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, "Though a fool all his life," while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning Udāyi Thera.

It is said that after the senior theras had left, he went to the Dhamma hall and sat on the Dhamma seat. Then one day, newcomer monks, seeing him and thinking, "This must be a learned senior thera," asked a question related to the aggregates and so on. Not knowing anything, they criticized him, "Who is this, living in the same monastery with the Buddhas, yet not knowing even the bare essentials of aggregates, elements, and sense-bases?" and they reported the incident to the Tathāgata. The Teacher, teaching them the Dhamma, spoke this verse:

64.

“Though a fool all his life associates with a wise man,
He no more understands the Dhamma than a ladle the taste of soup.”

Fool: Namely, though a fool all his life approaches and attends upon a wise man, he does not understand the Dhamma of learning, saying, "This is the word of the Buddha, so much is the word of the Buddha," or the Dhamma of practice and realization, saying, "This is conduct, this is dwelling, this is behavior, this is range, this is blameworthy, this is blameless, this should be cultivated, this should not be cultivated, this should be penetrated, this should be realized." How is it like? Than a ladle the taste of soup: Just as a ladle, though stirring around until it wears out in various kinds of soup preparations, does not know the taste of the soup, saying, "This is salty, this is unsalted, this is bitter, this is alkaline, this is pungent, this is sour, this is not sour, this is astringent," just so, though a fool all his life approaches and attends upon a wise man, he does not understand the Dhamma spoken of above.

At the end of the discourse, the newcomer monks were liberated, their minds freed from defilements.

The Story of Udāyi Thera is the Fifth.

6. The Story of the Thirty Pāveyyaka Monks

The Teacher spoke this Dhamma discourse, "Though but a moment the discerning," while dwelling at Jetavana, concerning about thirty monks from Pāveyyaka.

Having heard the Dhamma discourse on the beginningless round of existence, they attained arahatta in that very seat. The monks raised a discussion in the Dhamma hall, "Oh, how quickly these monks have understood the Dhamma!" The Teacher, hearing that, said, "Not only now, monks, but even before, these thirty friends, having been rogues, after hearing the Tuṇḍila Jātaka (Jā. 1.6.88 ff), quickly understood the Dhamma and undertook the five precepts. Due to that underlying condition, they have now attained arahatta while sitting in their seats," and teaching the Dhamma, spoke this verse:

65.

“Though but a moment the discerning associates with a wise man,
Quickly he understands the Dhamma, as the tongue the taste of soup.”

Discerning: The wise person, though but a moment associates with another wise man, learning and questioning in his presence, quickly understands the Dhamma of learning. Then, having requested a meditation subject, striving and endeavoring in practice, just as a person with unimpaired taste buds knows the various tastes such as salty, etc., by placing it on the tip of the tongue for the purpose of discerning taste, so too, the wise man quickly understands even the supramundane Dhamma.