Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

V. 12. THE SNAKE-GHOST AND THE CROW-GHOST

For an evil deed, once done. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to a certain snake-ghost. [64]

For on a certain day, in the midst of a thousand ascetics wearing matted hair, the Venerable Elder Lakkhana and the Venerable Elder Moggallāna the Great descended from Vulture Peak with the intention of making an alms-pilgrimage in Rājagaha. The Venerable Elder

1 The Story of the Present is derived from Samyutta, xix: ii. 254 ff. Cf. stories v. 13, X. 6, XX. 6, and xxii. 2. Text: N ii. 63-68.

Moggallāna the Great, seeing a snake-ghost, smiled. Thereupon Elder Lakkhana asked him the reason for his smile, saying, “Brother, why do you smile?” Said Elder Moggallāna the Great, “Brother, it is not the proper time for you to ask that question. Wait until we are in the presence of the Exalted One and then ask me.” When they had completed their rounds for alms in Rājagaha and had come into the presence of the Teacher and had sat down. Elder Lakkhana asked Elder Moggallāna, “Brother Moggallāna, as you were descending from Vulture Peak, you smiled; and when I asked you the reason for your smile, you said, ‘Wait until we are in the presence of the Teacher and then ask me.’ Now tell me the reason.”

Said the Elder, “Brother, I smiled because I saw a snake-ghost. This is what he looked like: his head was like the head of a man, and the rest of his body was like that of a snake. He was what is called a snake-ghost. He was twenty-five leagues in length. Flames of fire started from his head and went as far as his tail; flames of fire started from his tail and went as far as his head. Flames of fire starting from his head played on both sides of his body; flames of fire starting from his sides descended on his body. There are two ghosts, they say, whose length is twenty-five leagues, the length of the rest being three-quarters of a league. But the length of this snake-ghost and of this crow-ghost was twenty-five leagues.” So much for the snake-ghost.

On another occasion Moggallāna saw a crow-ghost enduring torment on the summit of Vulture Peak. And he asked the ghost about his former deed, pronouncing the following Stanza, [65]

Your tongue is five leagues long, your head is nine leagues long.

Your body rises twenty-five leagues above the earth;

What was the deed you did to meet with such suffering as this?

Said the ghost, answering his question,

Reverend Moggallāna, I carried away to my heart’s content, food

Brought to a company of monks of the mighty sage Kassapa.

12 a. Story of the Past: The crow-ghost

Reverend Sir, in the dispensation of the Buddha Kassapa, a company of monks entered a village for alms. When the villagers saw the Elders, they received them cordially, provided seats for them in a rest-house, furnished them with rice-porridge, gave them hard food, and bathed their feet and anointed them with oil. And while waiting for the time to come to give alms, they sat and listened to the Law.

At the conclusion of the recitation of the Law they took the Elders’ bowls, filled them in their several houses with food flavored with various choice flavors, and returned with them.

At that time I was a crow, perched on the ridge-pole of the rest-house. When I saw what was happening, I filled my mouth thrice out of the bowl taken by one of those villagers, taking three mouthfuls of food. Now that food did not belong to the company of monks, nor was it given and handed over to the company of monks. It was simply and solely the remains of food taken by the monks which the villagers would have carried to their own houses and eaten, and was brought forth merely on the occasion of the visit of the monks. Well, I took three mouthfuls; that was the extent of my misdeed in a former state of existence. As the result of that misdeed, when I died, [66] I suffered torment in the Avici Hell; and thereafter, because the fruit of my evil deed was not yet exhausted, I was reborn on Vulture Peak as a crow-ghost. Now as the fruit of my evil deed, I endure this suffering. End of Story of the crow-ghost.

At this point, then, the Elder said, “I smiled because I saw a snake-ghost.” Straightway the Teacher arose and witnessed to the truth of Moggallāna’s statement, saying, “Monks, what Moggallāna says is the exact truth. I myself saw this very ghost on the day I attained Enlightenment. But out of compassion for others, I did not say, ‘As for those who will not believe my words, may it be to their disadvantage.’” (According to the Lakkhana Samyutta, when Moggallāna the Great saw the ghost, the Teacher became his witness and told twenty stories.) When the monks heard what he said, they inquired about his deed in a former state of existence. Thereupon the Teacher related the following

12 b. Story of the Past: The snake-ghost

The story goes that in times long past men erected a bower of leaves and grass on the bank of the river near Benāres for a Private Buddha. During his residence there the Private Buddha regularly went to the city for alms, and the residents of the city, in the evening and in the morning, took perfumes and garlands in their hands and went and ministered to the Private Buddha. Now a certain resident of Benāres was plowing a field near the wayside, and as the multitude passed by in the evening and in the morning to do service to the Private Buddha, they trampled his field. The farmer tried to prevent them from so doing, saying to them, “Do not trample my field,” but in spite of his best efforts, was unable to do so. Finally the following thought occurred to him, “If the bower of the Private Buddha were not in this place, they would not trample my field.” Accordingly, when the Private Buddha had entered the city for alms, the farmer broke all of his vessels for eating and drinking and set fire to his bower of leaves and grass. [67]

When the Private Buddha saw his bower burned down, he wandered forth at his own good pleasure. When the multitude drew near with perfumes and garlands and saw the bower of leaves and grass burned down, they said, “Where can our noble teacher have gone?” Now the farmer also had gone with the multitude, and standing among them, said, “It was I who burned down his bower of leaves and grass.” Then the multitude cried out, “Seize him; seize him. All because of this wicked man, we have lost the privilege of seeing the Private Buddha.” And they beat him with sticks and stones and deprived him of life. He was reborn in the Avici Hell. After suffering torment in this Hell until the great earth was elevated a league, he came out thence; and because the fruit of his evil deed was not yet exhausted, he was reborn on Vulture Peak as a snake-ghost. End of Story of the snake-ghost.

When the Teacher had related his misdeed in a former state of existence, he said,“Monks, as for an evil deed, it is like milk. Even as milk does not turn as soon as it is drawn, even so an evil deed does not at once ripen. But when it has once ripened, that moment it brings with it suffering such as this.” And joining the connection and preaching the Law, he pronounced the following Stanza,

71. For an evil deed, when done, does not bear evil fruit at once, just as new-milked milk does not turn at once.

It follows the doer, the simpleton, to consume him, like fire covered with ashes.

V. 13. THE SLEDGE-HAMMER GHOST

When to his disadvantage. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while in residence at Veluvana about a sledge-hammer ghost.

1 The Story of the Present is from SarhyuUa, xix: ii. 254 ff. Cf. stories v. 12, X. 6, XX. 6, and xxii. 2. The Story of the Past follows closely the Story of the Past in Jātaka 107: i. 418-420. The Jātaka, however, says nothing about the cripple’s killing a Private Buddha. From the Dhammapada Commentary story is evidently derived Peta-Vatthu Commentary, iv. 16: 282-286. Text: N ii. 68-73.

For under the same circumstances as in the preceding story Elder Moggallāna the Great, while descending from Vulture Peak with Elder Lakkhana, smiled on reaching a certain spot. When Elder Lakkhana asked him why he smiled, [69] he said, “Wait until we are in the presence of the Exalted One and then ask me.” When Moggallāna the Great had completed his alms-pilgrimage, he approached the Teacher, saluted him, and sat down respectfully on one side. Thereupon his companion asked him the same question again. Moggallāna replied as follows, “Brother, I saw a ghost three-quarters of a league in height. Sixty thousand sledge-hammers, blazing and burning, rose and fell uninterruptedly on top of his head. Again and again they broke his skull, and again and again his skull sprang up again. When I saw him I smiled, for I thought to myself, ‘In my present state of existence I never before saw such a being.’” In the Petavatthu occurs the following Stanza, together with many others, relating to this very ghost:

Full sixty thousand sledge-hammers on all sides

Fall on your head and break your skull.

The Teacher listened to the Elder’s story and said, “Monks, I also saw that very creature as I sat on the Throne of Enlightenment. But out of compassion for others, I did not say, ‘As for those who will not believe my words, may it be to their disadvantage.’ Now, however, I will make Moggallāna my witness and tell what I saw.” When the monks heard this, they asked about the ghost’s misdeed in a previous state of existence. Thereupon the Teacher related the following

13 a. Story of the Past: The stone-thrower and his pupil

Once upon a time, the story goes, there lived in Benāres a cripple who was an adept at the art of slinging stones. He used to sit at the city-gate under a certain banyan-tree, sling stones, and cut the leaves of the tree. The boys of the city would say to him, “Make an elephant for us, make a horse for us;” [70] and he would make every animal they asked him to. As a reward he received from them food both hard and soft. One day, as the king was on his way to the pleasure-garden, he came to this place. The boys left the cripple within the shoots of the banyan-tree and ran away. Now it was noon when the king stopped and went in among the roots of the tree, and his body was overspread with the chequered shade.

“What does this mean?” said he, looking up. Seeing leaves cut in the forms of elephants and horses, he asked, “Whose work is this?” On being informed that it was the work of the cripple, he sent for him and said to him, “I have a house-priest who is excessively talkative. However little be said to him, he talks much and wearies me. Could you throw a pint-pot of goat’s dung into his mouth?” “I could, your majesty. Have goat’s dung brought, seat yourself behind a curtain with the house-priest, and I shall know just how to go to work.” The king did as the cripple suggested.

The cripple made a hole in the curtain with the tip of a knife. While the house-priest talked with the king, whenever he opened his mouth, the cripple threw in a pellet of goat’s dung, and the house-priest swallowed every pellet thrown into his mouth. When the goat’s dung was exhausted, the cripple shook the curtain. The king, understanding by this sign that the goat’s dung was exhausted, said, “Teacher, while I am engaged in conversation with you, it is impossible for me to finish what I am saying. You talk so much that even in the act of swallowing a pint-pot of goat’s dung you cannot keep silent.” [71] The Brahman immediately became silent. From that time on, he dared not open his mouth and talk with the king. The king remembered the skillful work of the cripple, caused him to be summoned, and said to him, “Through you I have gained happiness.” In token of his satisfaction, he gave him the Eightfold Gifts, and four fine large villages, north, east, south, and west of the city. Knowing this, a minister of the king who was his counselor in things temporal and spiritual pronounced the following Stanza,

Capital skill indeed! but, good or bad.

See, by a cripple’s throw, were won villages in the four quarters!

Now the minister at that time was this very Exalted One.

Now a certain man, observing the worldly prosperity won by the cripple, thought to himself, “This man, born a cripple, has won great prosperity through this art of his. I also ought to learn this art.” So he approached the cripple, bowed to him, and said to him, “Teacher, impart to me this art.” “Good friend, I cannot do so.” Although his request had been refused, he thought to himself, “Let be, I will win his favor.” Accordingly he bathed and rubbed the cripple’s hands and feet for a long time, and having thus won his favor, repeated his request. The cripple thought to himself, “This man has been exceedingly kind to me.” And unable to refuse his request, he taught him the art. Having so done, he said to him, “Good sir, your training is now complete; what will you do now?” “I shall go out into the world and display my art.” “What will you do?” “I will hit a cow or a man and kill him.” “Good sir, the penalty for killing a cow is a hundred pieces of money and for killing a man a thousand. Even with son and wife, you will not be able to pay. Do not commit murder. [72] Look for something that has neither mother nor father and for hitting which there is no penalty.”

“Very well,” said the man. So placing stones in a fold of his garment, he walked about looking for just that sort of target. First he saw a cow. “This animal has a consort,” thought he. Therefore he did not dare hit the cow. Then he saw a man. But he thought to himself, “This being has a mother and father.” Therefore he did not dare hit the man. Now at that time a Private Buddha named Sunetta resided in a bower of leaves and grass near the city. When the man saw him enter the city through the gate for the purpose of receiving alms, he thought to himself, “This man has neither mother nor father. If I hit him, I shall have no penalty to pay; I will try my skill by hitting him.” So aiming a stone at the right ear of the Private Buddha, he let fly. The stone entered the Private Buddha’s right ear and came out of his left ear. The Private Buddha suffered intense pain, was unable to continue his alms-pilgrimage, and returning to his bower of leaves through the air, passed into Nibbāna.

When the Private Buddha failed to come, the people thought, “Something must have gone wrong with him.” Accordingly they went to his hermitage, and when they saw that he had passed into Nibbāna, they wept and lamented. The man who hit the Private Buddha saw the multitude flock to his hermitage and went thither also. Recognizing the Private Buddha, he said, “It was he who met me face to face at the gate as he entered the city, and I hit him in trying my skill.” The multitude said, “This wicked fellow says that he hit the Private Buddha. Catch him! catch him!” And straightway they beat him and then and there deprived him of life. He was reborn in the Avici Hell. Until this great earth was elevated a league, during all that time he suffered torment. Thereafter, because the fruit of his evil deed was not yet exhausted, he was reborn on the summit of Vulture Peak as a sledge-hammer ghost.

The Teacher, after relating the story of his deed in a previous state of existence, said, [73] “Monks, if a simpleton acquires art or power it results to his disadvantage; for a simpleton who acquires art or power turns it to his own hurt.” And joining the connection and preaching the Law, he pronounced the following Stanza,

72. When to his disadvantage a simpleton acquires knowledge,

It injures the fortune of the simpleton and crushes his head.

V. 14. CITTA AND SUDHAMMA

The simpleton will seek for false reputation. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the Elder Sudhamma. The story begins at Macchikāsaṇḍa and ends at Sāvatthi. [74]

For a householder named Citta, residing in the city of Macchikāsaṇḍa, observed the Elder Mahānāma, one of the Band of Five, making his round for alms; and pleased with his deportment, took his bowl, invited him into his house, provided him with food, and at the conclusion of the meal listened to the Law and obtained the Fruit of Conversion. Now Citta, possessed of immovable faith, desiring to make his own pleasure-garden Ambataka Grove a place of residence for the Order, poured water into the right hand of the Elder and made the grove over to the Order. The moment he uttered the words, “The Religion of the Buddha is firmly established,” the great earth shook to its ocean boundary. The great treasurer caused a splendid monastery to be erected in the grove, and thereafter the door stood open to monks who came from all four quarters. At Macchikāsaṇḍa also resided the Elder Sudhamma.

Some time afterwards, the two Chief Disciples, hearing the rumor of Citta’s good qualities, decided to pay their respects to him and therefore went to Macchikāsaṇḍa. Citta the householder, hearing that they were coming, proceeded forth half a league to meet them, escorted them to the monastery, invited them within, performed the usual duties for visitors, and then made the following request of the Captain of the Faith, “Reverend Sir, we desire to listen to a short discourse on the Law.” The Elder replied, “Lay disciple, we are weary with the journey; nevertheless listen for a short while.” Citta, merely by listening to the Elder’s discourse on the Law, obtained the

1 This story is derived from the Vinaya, Culla Vagga, i. 18: ii. 15---183°. Aṅguttara Commentary (citations at HOS. 28, p. 50). Text: N ii. 74-83.

Fruit of the Second Path. Then he bowed to the two Chief Disciples and invited them to be his guests, saying, “Reverend Sirs, pray take a meal in my house to-morrow with your thousand monks.” [75] Then he turned to the resident monk, the Elder Sudhamma, and invited him, saying to him, “Reverend Sir, you also come to-morrow with the Elders.” Angry at the thought, “He invited me last,” Sudhamma refused the invitation; and although Citta repeated the invitation again and again, he still refused. The lay disciple said, “Pray be present, Reverend Sir,” and went out. On the following day he prepared splendid offerings in his own residence. Very early in the morning the Elder Sudhamma thought to himself, “What manner of food has the householder prepared for the Chief Disciples? I will go see.” So very early in the morning he took bowl and robe and went to his house.

“Pray sit down, Reverend Sir,” said the householder. “I will not sit down,” replied Sudhamma; “I am about to set out on my round for alms.” The Elder surveyed the offerings prepared for the Chief Disciples, and seeking to annoy the householder about the varieties of food provided, said, “Householder, your food is most excellent, but there is one thing you have omitted.” “What is that, Reverend Sir?” “Sesame-cake, householder.” Thereupon the householder rebuked him, comparing him to a crow. Angered at this, the Elder said, “This is your residence, householder; I will depart.” Three times the householder strove to prevail upon the Elder to remain, but each time the latter refused. Finally he left the house, went to the Teacher, and related the words that had passed between Citta and himself. Said the Teacher, “You, an inferior, have insulted a faithful, believing disciple.” Having thus put the blame solely on the Elder, the Teacher sent him back to beg pardon of the disciple, saying, “Go beg pardon of Citta the householder.” The Elder went to Citta and said, “Householder, it was all my fault; pardon me.” [76] But the householder refused to pardon him and said, “I will not pardon you.”

Provoked at his failure to obtain pardon, he returned to the Teacher. The Teacher, although he knew that the householder would pardon Sudhamma, thought, “This Elder is stubborn in his pride; now let him go thirty leagues and come back.” And so, without telling him how he might gain pardon, he just dismissed him. The Elder returned with pride humbled. The Teacher then gave the Elder a companion and said to the Elder, “Go with this companion and ask pardon of the householder.” Said the Teacher, “A religious ought not to give way to pride or ill-will, thinking, ‘This dwelling is mine, this residence is mine, this male lay disciple is mine, this female lay disciple is mine.’ For if he so do, ill-will and pride and the other Depravities increase.” And joining the connection and preaching the Law, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

73. The simpleton will seek for false reputation, for precedence among the monks,

For authority in the monasteries, for honors among other folk.

74. “Let layman and monk both think that it was I, and I alone, who did this;

Let them be subject to my will, both in everything that ought to be done, and in everything that ought not to be done!”

Thus resolves the simpleton; so do his desire and pride increase. [78]

After listening to this admonition Elder Sudhamma bowed to the Teacher, rose from his seat, walked sunwise about the Teacher, and then, accompanied by his companion-monk, went within sight of the lay disciple, atoned for his fault, and begged the disciple’s pardon. The lay disciple both pardoned him and in turn asked his pardon, saying, “I pardon you, Reverend Sir; if I am to blame, pray pardon me also.” The Elder abode steadfast in the admonition given by the Teacher, and in but a few days attained Arahatship together with the Supernatural Faculties. [79]

The lay disciple thought to himself, “Even without seeing the Teacher I have attained the Fruit of Conversion; even without seeing him I have attained the Fruit of the Second Path. I ought to see the Teacher.” So he ordered yoked five hundred carts full of sesame, rice, ghee, sugar, garments, coverlets, and other offerings, and sent word to the Congregation of Monks, to the Congregation of Nuns, and to the lay disciples both male and female, “Let those who wish to see the Teacher come; they will lack nothing for offerings, whether of food or aught else.” With him went forth, of monks and nuns and lay disciples both male and female, five hundred each. That neither they nor his own retinue, three thousand souls in all, might lack broth or rice or aught else on the thirty-league journey, the householder Citta made ample provision. The deities, knowing that he had set out, posted themselves at intervals of a league along the way, and served that great multitude with rice-porridge, hard food, drink, and other necessities; there was no lack of aught for any. Proceeding at the rate of a league a day, waited upon in this manner by deities, the householder Citta and his retinue reached Sāvatthi in a month. There were five hundred carts filled as described above; and as the householder proceeded, deities and men brought presents, which he gave away.

The Teacher addressed Elder Ānanda, “Ānanda, as the shadows of evening draw on, the householder Citta will arrive with five hundred carts and will pay obeisance to me.” “Reverend Sir, [80] when he pays obeisance to you, will any miracle take place?” “Yes, Ānanda, a miracle will take place.” “What miracle, Reverend Sir?” “When he arrives and pays obeisance to me, a rain of celestial flowers will begin and will continue without interruption until a space eight karisas in extent is covered with a glistening mass of flowers knee-deep.” Hearing rumor of this, the residents of the city said, “So great, they say, is the merit of the householder Citta who will to-day come and pay obeisance to the Teacher. Such, they say, is the miracle that will take place. We must without fail obtain the privilege of seeing this person of great merit.” So they took presents and stood on both sides of the way.

As the procession approached the monastery, five hundred monks led the way. The householder Citta said to the eminent female lay disciples, “Reverend Sisters, you follow in the rear.” So saying, accompanied by five hundred male lay disciples, he went into the presence of the Teacher. (Now those that stand or sit in the presence of the Buddhas move not hither and thither, but stand on both sides immovable in the street of the Buddhas.) The householder Citta, a Noble Disciple who had attained the Three Fruits, entered the street trod by the Buddhas; whereupon every place he looked at trembled. “That must be the householder Citta,” said the multitude and gazed at him. The householder Citta, penetrating the six-colored rays of light of the Buddha, approached the Teacher, and grasping the Teacher’s feet by the two ankles, paid obeisance to him. At that very moment a rain of flowers fell precisely as the Teacher had predicted, and thousands of cries of applause went up.

For one month the householder Citta abode with the Teacher. While he there abode, [81] he provided seats for the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha within the monastery and bestowed rich offerings upon them. He also housed and cared for within the monastery those that came with him. Not for a single day was it necessary for him to use what he had in his own carts; he performed all his duties of almsgiving solely with the presents brought by gods and men. Finally he paid obeisance to the Teacher and said, “Reverend Sir, when I said to myself, ‘I will give alms to you,’ and set out on my journey, I was a month on the way. Here I have spent a month, and I find it impossible to present to you anything which I have myself brought. All this time have I presented to you alms solely of presents brought to me by gods and men. Even were I to remain here a year, I should not receive the privilege of bestowing alms of my own upon you. I desire to empty my carts and go; tell me where I can put away the offerings which I have brought.”

Said the Teacher to Elder Ānanda, “Ānanda, empty some place for the lay disciple and assign it to him.” The Elder did so and is said to have assigned a suitable place to Citta the householder. Then the lay disciple, accompanied by the three thousand persons who had come with him, set out with empty carts on the return journey. Gods and men arose, saying, “Noble sir, your journey is made with empty carts;” and so saying, filled the carts with the seven kinds of jewels. As Citta the householder returned, he ministered to the needs of the multitude solely with the presents brought to himself.

Elder Ānanda bowed to the Teacher and said, “Reverend Sir, when Citta the householder came hither, he occupied a month traveling, spent just a month here, and all that time gave alms solely of presents brought him by gods and men. Now, having emptied five hundred carts, he will be an entire month going; but gods and men have arisen, [82] saying, ‘Noble sir, your journey is made with empty carts,’ and so saying, have filled his carts with the seven kinds of jewels. On the return journey, they say, he will minister to the multitude solely with the presents which have thus been brought to him. Now, Reverend Sir, was it solely because he came to visit you, that he received all this honor? Or would he also have received it, had he gone elsewhere?” “Ānanda, he would have received it just the same, no matter whether he had come to visit me or had gone elsewhere. For this lay disciple is faithful and believing and virtuous. No matter what place such a man resorts to, there, wherever it is, he receives gain and honor.” So saying, the Teacher pronounced the following Stanza in the Pakiṇṇaka Vagga,

303. If a man be faithful, endued with virtue, possessed of fame and wealth.

No matter what place he resorts to, there, wherever it may be, he is honored.

14 a. Story of the Past: Citta’s deed in a former birth

When the Teacher had thus spoken. Elder Ānanda asked about Citta’s deed in a former birth. In reply the Teacher said, “Ānanda, Citta the householder made his Earnest Wish at the feet of the Exalted Padumuttara, and after passing through the round of existences among gods and men for a hundred thousand cycles of time, was reborn in the dispensation of the Buddha Kassapa as a hunter. One rainy day, after he had grown to be a man, he went to hunt in the forest with spear in hand. As he looked this way and that in search of quarry, he saw a certain monk seated in a natural cave with his upper robe drawn over his head. “This must be some noble monk who is seated engaged in meditation,” thought he; “I will bring him food.” So he went home quickly and caused flesh brought the day before to be cooked on one brazier, and rice on another. Then, seeing some monks going their rounds for alms, he took their bowls also, seated them on seats prepared for the purpose, procured food for them, and invited them in, saying, “Help yourselves, noble sirs.”

Then he ordered additional food to be brought, placed it in a basket, [83] and taking it with him, set out. On the way he plucked various kinds of flowers, placed them in a leaf-basket, and went on to the place where the Elder sat. “Reverend Sir,” said he, “bestow your favor upon me.” So saying, he took the Elder’s bowl, filled it, and placed it in his hand. Then honoring the Elder with those flowers, he made the following Earnest Wish, “Even as this portion of choice food, together with the gift of flowers, has pleased my heart, even so, in the various places where I shall be reborn, may my heart rejoice over the thousands of presents which I shall receive, and may rain of the five kinds of flowers rain upon my head.” During the term of life allotted to him he performed works of merit, and after his death he was reborn in the World of the Gods. In the place where he was reborn celestial flowers rained upon him knee-deep. In his present existence, both on the day of his birth and on the day when he came hither, a rain of flowers rained upon him and presents were offered to him and his carts were filled with the seven kinds of jewels. This was the result solely of his deed in a former birth.

V. 15. A SEVEN-YEAR-OLD NOVICE WINS ALL HEARTS

For one road leads to gain. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher at Jetavana with reference to Elder Vanavāsi Tissa.

15 a. Story of the Past: The poor Brahman

The incident with which this story begins, however, occurred at Rājagaha. Here, we are told, lived the Brahman Mahāsena, a friend of the Brahman Vanganta, who was the father of Sāriputta. One day, as the Elder Sāriputta went his rounds for alms, he took pity on Mahāsena and went to the door of his house. Now Mahāsena, who was poor and in need, thought to himself, “My son must have come to the door of my house for alms. But I am a poor man. Doubtless he does not know this. But I have no alms at all to give him.” Therefore, not daring to meet him face to face, he went and hid himself. On another day the Elder came again, and the Brahman hid himself as before. Said he to himself, “As soon as ever I get anything, I will give him something;” but it was some time before this happened.

One day, at a certain Brahman recitation, he received a bowl of rice-porridge and a small piece of cloth, which he took home with him. Remembering the Elder, he said to himself, “This alms I ought to give to the Elder.” At that moment the Elder, who had been engaged in ecstatic meditation, rose from his trance, and seeing the Brahman, said to himself, “The Brahman has received alms and desires me to come to him; therefore I must go to him.” So putting on his mantle and taking his bowl, he went to the door of the Brahman’s house and showed himself standing there. When the Brahman saw the Elder, his heart was content. He approached him, paid obeisance to him, and gave him a friendly welcome; then, having provided him with a seat within his house, he took his own bowl of rice-porridge and placed the porridge in the Elder’s bowl. [85] The Elder accepted half of the porridge and then covered his bowl.

But the Brahman said to him, “Reverend Sir, here is but a single portion of rice-porridge; grant me happiness in the next life, not in this; I desire to give you all without reserve.” So saying, he poured all of the porridge into the Elder’s bowl. The Elder ate the porridge then and there. When he had finished his meal, the Brahman gave him the cloth, bowing and saying, “Reverend Sir, may I also obtain the same Truth you have seen.” “So be it, Brahman,” replied the Elder, returning thanks to him. Then, rising from his seat, he set out on his journey and in due course arrived at Jetavana. There is a saying, “Alms given in time of poverty rejoice the heart above measure;” and so it was with the Brahman. After he had made this offering his mind was at peace and his heart was filled with joy. And he conceived warm affection for the Elder.

15 b. Story of the Present: The novice Tissa

When he died, he was conceived, solely because of his affection for the Elder, in the womb of the wife of a supporter of the Elder living at Sāvatthi. As soon as the mother knew that a child was conceived in her womb she told her husband, and he saw to it that she received the treatment necessary for the protection of the embryo. Avoiding foods that were excessively hot or cold or sour, enfolding the child in her womb happily, the longing of pregnancy arose within her. “Oh,” she said, “that I might invite the five hundred monks led by the Elder Sāriputta to my house, provide seats for them, and offer them porridge of milk and rice unceasingly! Oh, that I myself might put on yellow robes, take my golden vessel, sit in the outer circle of the seats, and partake of the porridge left uneaten by so many monks!” (We are told that this longing of hers to put on yellow robes was a sign that her unborn child should one day become a monk under the dispensation of the Buddha.) [86]

“This is a pious longing which our daughter has expressed,” said her kinsfolk, and offered porridge of milk and rice unceasingly to the five hundred monks led by the Elder Sāriputta. She herself put on yellow robes, both under and upper garments, took her golden vessel, sat down in the outer circle of the seats, and partook of the porridge left by the monks; whereupon her longing subsided. On the expiration of ten lunar months she gave birth to a son. From time to time, both before her delivery and thereafter, she gave festivals at which she provided the five hundred monks led by Sāriputta with rich porridge of honey, milk, and rice. (This, it is said, was because the boy in his former existence as a Brahman gave rice-porridge.)

Now at the festival held on the day of the child’s birth, they bathed the child very early in the morning, dressed him in beautiful garments, and laid him on a bed of royal splendor in a blanket worth a hundred thousand pieces of money. Even as he lay there, he looked at the Elder and said, “This is my former teacher, through whom I have attained this splendor. I ought to make an offering to him.” So when they carried him that he might receive the moral precepts, he wrapped that blanket about his little finger and lifted it up with him.

His kinsfolk cried out, “His finger has caught in the blanket,” and sought to disengage it; whereupon he burst into tears. Then said they, “Leave the child alone; do not make him cry,” and carried him along, blanket and all. When it was time for him to make his bow to the Elder, he removed his finger from the blanket and cast the blanket at the Elder’s feet. His kinsfolk, instead of saying, “The young boy did this without knowing what he was doing,” said to the Elder, “Reverend Sir, pray accept the offering the boy has presented to you; confer the moral precepts on your servant who has honored you with a blanket worth a hundred thousand pieces of money.” [87]

“What is the name of this boy?” “Reverend Sir, he is to be named after you.” “Tissa shall be his name.” Upatissa, as we know, was the name of the Elder in his younger days as a layman. His mother thought to herself, “I shall not interfere with the desire of my son.” Accordingly she presented the five hundred monks led by Sāriputta with rich porridge made of honey, milk, and rice, both at the festival of the naming of the child, and at the succeeding festivals of the partaking of food, the piercing of the ears, the reception of the cloth, and the conferring of tonsure.

As the boy grew up and reached the age of seven years, he said to his mother, “Mother, I desire to become a monk under the Elder.” “Very well, my dear son; long ago I decided not to interfere with the inclination of my son; become a monk, my son.” So she invited the Elder to the house. When he arrived, she presented him with alms and said, “Reverend Sir, your servant says that he wishes to become a monk. I will come to the monastery this evening and bring him with me.” Having dismissed the Elder, she waited until evening, and then, taking her son with her and bearing rich gifts and offerings, she went to the monastery and committed him into the Elder’s hands.

The Elder talked with him as follows, “Tissa, the life of a monk is a hard life; when he would like what is warm he gets what is cold, and when he would like what is cold he gets what is warm; those who become monks live a wearisome life, and you are delicate.” “Reverend Sir, I shall be able to do all that you enjoin upon me.” “Very well,” said the Elder. So he taught him the Formula of Meditation on the first five of the constituent parts of the body, by way of fixing in his mind the thought of the impurity of the body, [88] and then made him a monk.

(The entire Formula involves the recitation of all of the thirty-two constituent parts of the body, but those who are unable to recite all may recite the first five. The Formula in full is that invariably employed by all the Buddhas, but there is no limit to the number of monks and nuns and lay disciples both male and female who have attained Arahatship by meditating upon the hair and other parts singly. Inexperienced monks frequently make it impossible for their candidates to attain Arahatship. For this reason the Elder taught the boy only a part of the Formula before receiving him into the Order, and then established him in the ten moral precepts.)

In honor of their son’s admission to the Order his mother and father remained at the monastery for seven days and presented the assembly presided over by the Buddha with naught but rich porridge made of honey, milk, and rice. The monks murmured thereat, saying, “We cannot always eat rich porridge made of honey, milk, and rice.” On the evening of the seventh day the boy’s mother and father went home, and on the eighth day the novice accompanied the monks to the city for alms.

The residents of Sāvatthi said to each other, “They say that the novice will come to the city to-day for alms; we will therefore do him honor.” So with five hundred cloths they made cushions for alms-bowls, and taking five hundred bowls with portions of alms, they met the novice on the road and presented them to him. On the following day they went to the monastery park and repeated the offering. Thus in two days the novice received a thousand bowls of alms and a thousand cloths, all of which he presented to the assembly of monks. (This was the result of his presentation of the small piece of cloth to the Elder in his former existence as a Brahman.) So the monks gave him the name Tissa the Almsgiver, Pindapatadayaka Tissa. [89]

Again one day when it was cold, the novice, as he went the rounds of the monastery, noticed monks warming themselves here and there, both in rooms where fire was kept and in other places. Said he, “Reverend Sirs, why do you sit warming yourselves?” “Novice, we are cold.” “Reverend Sirs, when it is cold, one should wrap himself in a blanket; that will keep off the cold.” “Novice, you have acquired great merit and may be able to get a blanket, but where can we get any?” “Well then, Reverend Sirs,” said the novice, “let those who need blankets come with me,” and caused proclamation to be made to that effect throughout the monastery. Said the monks, “Let us go with the novice and procure blankets.” So all because of a novice seven years old, monks to the number of a thousand went forth. Not for a moment did he think, “Where can I get blankets for so many monks?” but just took them with him and started out for the city. (Such is the wonder-working power of alms generously bestowed.)

Going from house to house without the city, he received five hundred blankets. And when he entered the city, men brought him blankets from all quarters. Now as a certain shop-keeper sat in his shop with five hundred blankets spread out before him, a certain man passed by the door and seeing him, said to him, “Sir, there is a certain novice coming this way collecting blankets; you had better hide yours.” “Is he taking them as gifts or otherwise?” “He receives them as gifts.” “That being the case, if I wish to, I will give him blankets; if not, I will not. Go on your way,” and with these words he dismissed him. (Thus do doting niggards begrudge people the gifts that others give them, even as did Kāla on beholding the incomparable gift of the king of Kosala; 1 and therefore are they reborn in Hell.)

The shop-keeper thought to himself, “This man who came along, in accordance with his nature, said to me, ’ You had better hide your blankets,’ and I replied to him, [90] ‘In case the novice is receiving them as gifts, I will give him what is my own, if I wish; if not, I will not.’ Now a man feels ashamed not to give what is in plain sight, but cannot be blamed for hiding what is his own. And since among these five hundred blankets there are two each of which is worth a hundred thousand pieces of money, it will be entirely proper for me to hide them.” So he folded the two blankets border to border and hid them by inserting them in the pile.

Just then the novice, accompanied by the thousand monks, came to that very place. When the shop-keeper saw the novice, he was filled with love for the boy; in fact his whole body was suffused with love. He thought to himself, “On seeing a boy like this, I should be willing to give my heart’s flesh, let alone blankets!” Straightway he removed those two blankets from the pile, placed them at the novice’s feet, paid obeisance to him, and said, “Reverend Sir, may I have a share in the Truth you have seen.” “So be it,” said the novice

1 See Book xiii, story 10; Text, iii. 186.

returning thanks to him. So the novice, who had received five hundred blankets without the city, received another five hundred within the city. Thus on one day alone he received a total of one thousand blankets, all of which he gave to the congregation of monks. Therefore the monks gave him the name Tissa the Blanket-Giver, Kambaladāyaka Tissa.

(Thus his gift of a blanket to the Elder on the day he was given his name when he was seven years old resulted in his receiving one thousand blankets. In no dispensation other than that of the Buddha is the gift of a little productive of so much fruit, and a large gift productive of more abundant fruit. Therefore said the Exalted One, 1 “Monks, this congregation of monks is of such sort that a little gift bestowed thereon produces much fruit, and a large gift yet more abundant fruit.” [91] Thus, as the result of giving a single blanket, the novice, although he was only seven years old, received one thousand blankets.)

While the novice was in residence at Jetavana, his boy-relatives came to see him frequently and talked and conversed with him. He thought to himself, “So long as I reside here, my boy-relatives will come to see me and will talk with me, and it will not be possible for me, whether they talk or not, to work out my own salvation; suppose I were to obtain a Formula of Meditation from the Teacher and go into the forest?” Accordingly he approached the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, and obtained a Formula of Meditation leading to Arahatship. Then, paying obeisance to his preceptor, he took bowl and robe and departed from the monastery. “If I take up my residence in the neighborhood,” thought he, “my kinsmen will send for me.” Therefore he went a distance of twenty leagues.

As he proceeded on his way he saw an old man at the gate of a certain village. The novice asked the old man, “Lay disciple, is there a forest hermitage in this neighborhood wherein monks may reside?” “Yes, Reverend Sir, there is.” “Well then, show me how to get there.” As soon as the old lay disciple saw the boy he took a liking to him. So instead of merely pointing out the way he remained standing where he was and said to him, “Come, Reverend Sir, [92] I will show you the way.” So saying, the old man took him with him and started off. As the novice went with him he noticed along the way five or six places abounding in various kinds of flowers and fruits.

1 Majjhimat iii. 80.

The novice asked him the names of these places, and the lay disciple told him the name of each one.

On reaching the forest hermitage the lay disciple said to him, “Here, Reverend Sir, is a pleasant place; take up your residence here.” Continuing, he asked the novice his name and then said to him, “Reverend Sir, be sure to come to our village for alms to-morrow.” Then turning back, he returned to his own village and proclaimed to the inhabitants, “Elder Tissa the Forest-dweller, Vanavāsika Tissa, has taken up his residence in the monastery; prepare broth, rice, and so forth for him.” So the novice, who at first bore the name Tissa, and after that the three names Piṇḍapātadāyaka Tissa, Kambaladāyaka Tissa, and Vanavāsi Tissa, received within seven years four names in all.

Very early on the morning of the following day the novice entered that village for alms. When the people brought him alms and paid obeisance, he said, “May you be happy; may you obtain release from suffering.” One man even, on presenting alms to him, was unable to bring himself to return home. All, without exception, must needs stand and gaze at him. Thus he easily obtained sufficient food to support him. All the inhabitants of the village prostrated themselves on their breasts before his feet and said to him, “Reverend Sir, if you will reside here during these three months, we will receive the Three Refuges, abide steadfast in the five moral precepts, [93] and perform the eight fast-day duties. Promise us to reside here.”

Perceiving that assistance was to be had there, he gave them his promise and regularly went there only for alms. Whenever the villagers paid obeisance to him, he recited the couplet, “I wish you happiness and release from suffering,” and then went his way. After spending the first and the second month there, in the course of the third month he attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties.

Now his preceptor Sāriputta, having kept residence during the rainy season and celebrated the terminal festival, approached the Teacher and having paid obeisance to him, said, “Reverend Sir, I am going to visit the novice Tissa.” “Go, Sāriputta,” said he. As Sāriputta set out with his own retinue of five hundred monks he said to Moggallāna, “Brother Moggallāna, I am going to see the novice Tissa.” Said the Elder Moggallāna, “I will go too, brother,” and set out with his retinue of five hundred monks. Likewise all the Chief Disciples, the Elder Mahā Kassapa, the Elder Anuruddha, the Elder Upāli, the Elder Puṇṇa, and the rest, set out each with his retinue of five hundred monks, the total retinue of all the Chief Disciples amounting to forty thousand monks.

When they had gone a distance of twenty leagues, they came to the village which was the novice’s resort for alms. The novice’s regular personal attendant saw them, [94] came to meet them at the village gate, and paid obeisance to them. The Elder Sāriputta asked him, “Lay disciple, is there a forest hermitage in this neighborhood?” “Yes, Reverend Sir, there is.” “Is there a monk residing there?” “There is, Reverend Sir.” “Has he monks with him, or has he none?” “He has, Reverend Sir.” “What is his name?” “The Elder Vanavāsi, Reverend Sir.” “Very well, show us the way there.” “Who are you, Reverend Sir?” “I have come to see my novice.”

The lay disciple looked at them and recognized in them quite all the Chief Disciples, beginning with the Captain of the Faith. His whole body suffused with joy, he said, “Wait a moment, Reverend Sirs.” So saying, he quickly entered the village and proclaimed, “Here are the eighty noble Chief Disciples beginning with the Elder Sāriputta. They have come here, each with his own retinue of five hundred monks, to see the novice. Take beds, chairs, coverlets, lamps, and oil, and go out quickly.” The inhabitants straightway took beds and so forth as they were bidden, and falling in behind the Elders, entered the monastery with them. The novice recognized the congregation of monks, took the bowls and robes of a few of the Chief Elders and performed the customary duties for them.

Even as he was arranging places for the Elders to reside and putting away their bowls and robes, the darkness of night came on. The Elder Sāriputta said to the lay disciples, “Retire, lay disciples, the darkness of night is come upon you.” They replied, “Reverend Sir, we expected to hear the Law to-day; we will not retire; we will hear the Law; we have not hitherto heard the Law.” “Well then, lay disciple, light the lamp and announce that it is time to hear the Law.” When he had done so the Elder said to him, “Tissa, your supporters say that they wish to hear the Law; [95] preach the Law to them.” The lay disciples arose with one accord and said, “Reverend Sir, our revered novice knows no discourse on the Law except these two sentences, ‘May you be happy; may you obtain release from suffering.’ Let some one else preach the Law to us.” Then his preceptor said to him, “Novice, but how may one be happy? How may one obtain release from suffering? Tell us the meaning of these two sentences.”

“Very well, Reverend Sir,” said he. So taking a variegated fan and mounting the Seat of the Law, he preached the Law to the pinnacle of Arahatship, even as a thunderstorm rains incessantly upon the four great continents, drawing the meaning and the matter from the five Nikayas, and analyzing the attributes of being as set forth by the Buddha; namely, the Aggregates of Being, the Elements of Being, and the Organs and Objects of Sense. “Reverend Sirs,” said he, “thus does one who has become an Arahat obtain happiness, thus does one who has become an Arahat obtain release from suffering; other folk obtain not release from the suffering connected with birth and the rest, and from the pains of Hell and the rest.” “Well done, novice! you have interpreted the sacred texts well; now intone them.” Then the novice also intoned them.

At sunrise the supporters of the novice were divided into two parties. Some were offended and said, “Indeed we have never seen anyone so crude. How is it that, able as he is to preach such a sermon on the Law, and having remained for so long a time as he has with his mother and father, he failed to recite a single Sentence of the Law to those present?” But others were pleased and said, “It is fortunate for us who know not even the difference between good and evil that we have ministered to one so saintly, [96] and that we have just now been able to hear the Law from him.”

He that is Supremely Enlightened surveyed the world early in the morning of that day. Observing that the supporters of the Elder Vanavāsi Tissa had entered the Net of his Knowledge, he considered within himself what would be the result. And he came to the following conclusion, “Some of the supporters of the Elder Vanavāsi Tissa are offended, while others are pleased. Those who are offended at a novice like my son will go to Hell. I must go to him, for if I go, all will be reconciled with my son and will obtain release from suffering.”

The villagers, having invited the congregation of monks, went to the village, erected a pavilion, prepared broth, rice, and so forth, provided seats and sat down waiting for the congregation of monks to come. The monks, having attended to their bodily needs, entered the village at the customary time for going the rounds, and asked the novice, “Tissa, will you go with us, or will you wait until later?” “When it is time for me to go, I will go; you go on ahead, Reverend Sirs.” The monks took bowl and robe and went on. The Teacher put on his robe at Jetavana, took his bowl, went in the twinkling of an eye, and showed himself in front of the company of monks. There was one universal shout, “He that is Supremely Enlightened is come.” The whole village was agitated. With jubilant hearts men [97] provided seats for the congregation of monks with the Buddha at their head and presented them with broth and hard food.

Even before the meal was over, the novice entered the village. Thereupon the villagers brought food and presented it to him with due reverence. Taking as much as he required, he went to the Teacher and held out the bowl. “Bring it to me, Tissa,” said the Teacher. Extending his hand, he took the bowl and showed it to the Elder, saying, “See, Sāriputta, here is the bowl of your novice.” The Elder took the bowl from the Teacher’s hands and returned it to the novice, saying, “Go sit down where you are accustomed to sit down with your bowl and eat your meal.”

The villagers, after waiting upon the congregation of monks presided over by the Buddha, requested the Teacher to return thanks. In returning thanks he spoke as follows, “It is fortunate for you, lay disciples, that on account of the novice who has come to your homes you have been privileged to see Sāriputta, Moggallāna, Kassapa, and the rest of the eighty Chief Disciples. Indeed it was solely on account of this novice that I myself came here. It is fortunate for you that you have thus been privileged, solely on account of this novice, to behold the Buddha. It is your good fortune; yes, your very good fortune!”

The villagers thought to themselves, “Indeed we were fortunate to be privileged to behold a novice who is able to win the favor of Buddhas and monks alike, and to give him alms.” So those who had been offended at the novice were pleased, while those who were satisfied were satisfied the more. At the conclusion of the words of thanksgiving many obtained the Fruit of Conversion and the Fruits of the Second and Third Paths. Then the Teacher arose from his seat and departed. The villagers accompanied him a little way and then turned back.

As the Teacher walked side by side with the novice, [98] he asked the novice the names of various places previously pointed out to him by the lay disciple, and the novice told him their names. When they reached the place where the novice reisided, the Teacher climbed to the top of a mountain. From the top of this mountain the Great Ocean is visible. The Teacher asked the novice, “Tissa, as you stand on the top of the mountain and look this way and that, what do you see?” “The Great Ocean, Reverend Sir.” “What thought comes into your mind as you look upon the Great Ocean?” “Reverend Sir, this is the thought that comes into my mind, ‘At times when I have wept over my sufferings, I must have shed tears more abundant than the waters contained in the four oceans.’” “Well said, well said, Tissa! it is even so; in the times that you have suffered, you have indeed shed tears more abundant than the waters contained in the four great oceans.” So saying, the Teacher pronounced the following Stanza,

But little water do the oceans four contain,

Compared with all the tears that man hath shed.

By sorrow stricken and by suffering distraught;

Wherefore, O friend, still heedless dost remain?

Again he asked him, “Tissa, where do you reside?” “In this mountain cave, Reverend Sir.” “What thought comes into your mind as you reside here?” “Reverend Sir, this is the thought that comes into my mind, ‘There is no limit to the number of times I have died and my body been laid upon this ground.’” “Well said, well said, Tissa! It is even so. [99] There is no spot where these living beings we know have not lain down on the earth and died.” So saying, he recited the Upasāḷhaka Jataka, 1 found in the Second Book, as follows.

Fourteen thousand Upasāḷhakas were burned in this place.

There is no place where men have not died.

Where truth is, and righteousness, where no injury is done to living beings,

Where self-restraint and self-command exist.

Thither resort holy men, there death is not.

(While, as a general rule, it is true that of all beings who have died and whose bodies have been laid upon the earth, there are none who die where men have not died before, nevertheless men like the Elder Ānanda do die where men have not died before. For example, we are told that when the Elder Ānanda was a hundred and twenty years old, he surveyed his allotted term of life, and perceiving that the time of his dissolution was near at hand, made the announcement, “I shall die seven days hence.” This announcement was heard by dwellers on both sides of the river Rohiṇī. Thereupon those who dwelt on the near side said, “We have been of great service to the Elder; he will die on our side.” But those who dwelt on the far side said, “We have been of great service to the Elder; he will die on our side.” The Elder heard their remarks and thought to himself, “Those who dwell on both sides have helped me equally. I cannot say, ‘These men have not helped me.’ Now if I die on the near side, those who dwell on the far side will quarrel with their brethren over the question who are to have my relics. If, on the other hand, I die on the far side, those who dwell on the near side will do the same thing. Therefore, if a quarrel arises, it will arise solely because of me; and likewise if it ceases, it will cease solely because of me.” [100] So he said, “Not only those who dwell on the near side are helpers of mine, but also those who dwell on the far side are helpers of mine. There are none who are not my helpers. Let those that dwell on the near side assemble on the near side, and let those that dwell on the far side assemble on the far side.”)

(Seven days later, sitting cross-legged in the air over the middle of the river at the height of seven palm-trees, he preached the Law to the multitude. When he had finished his discourse, he commanded, “Let my body split in two; and let one portion fall on the near side and the other on the far side.” And sitting there, he entered into ecstatic meditation on the element of fire. Thereupon flames of fire burst from his body, his body split in two, and one portion fell on the near side and the other on the far side. The populace wept and wailed. Like the sound of the earth splitting open, was the sound of their lamentation; yet more pitiful even than was the sound of lamentation at the death of the Teacher. For four months men went about wailing and lamenting, saying, “So long as he who held the Teacher’s bowl and robe remained, it was as if the Teacher himself yet remained among us. But now the Teacher is dead.”)

Again the Teacher asked the novice, “Tissa, when you hear the noise of panthers and other wild beasts in this forest, are you afraid or not?” “I am not afraid, Exalted One. On the contrary, when I hear the noise of these animals, a feeling of love for the forest arises within me.” And he recited sixty Stanzas descriptive of the forest. Then said the Teacher to him, “Tissa!” “What is it, Reverend Sir?” “I am going. Will you go with me, or will you turn back?” “If my preceptor wishes to go and will take me with him, I will go; if he wishes to turn back, I will turn back, Reverend Sir.” [101] The Teacher set out with the congregation of monks. Now it was the novice’s wish to turn back. The Elder knowing this, said to him, “Tissa, turn back if you wish to do so.” Accordingly the novice paid obeisance to the Teacher and the congregation of monks and turned back; the Teacher went back to Jetavana.

A discussion arose in the Hall of Truth, “Truly it is a difficult task which the novice Tissa is performing! From the day he was reborn, his kinsfolk held seven festivals and provided five hundred monks with naught but rich porridge made of honey, milk, and rice. When he became a monk, they remained at the monastery for seven days and again provided the congregation of five hundred monks presided over by the Buddha with naught but rich porridge made of honey, milk, and rice. On the eighth day after he had become a monk he entered the village and in only two days received a thousand bowls of food and a thousand cushions for alms-bowls. Again another day he received a thousand blankets. So abundant were the gain and honor he received during his residence here. But he has now renounced all of this gain and honor, entered the forest, and is living on whatever food is brought him. It is truly a difficult task the novice Tissa is performing!”

The Teacher came in and asked them, “Monks, what is it that you are sitting here now talking about?” They told him. “Yes, monks,” he replied, “there is one road which leads to gain, another which leads to Nibbāna. The doors of the four states of punishment stand open to the monk, who, thinking to acquire gain, takes upon himself the forest life and the other Pure Practices and clings to that which brings him gain. But he who walks upon the road that leads to Nibbāna, rejects the gain and honor he might have, enters the forest, and by struggling and striving wins Arahatship.” [102] And joining the connection, he instructed them in the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza,

75. For one road leads to gain, the other to Nibbāna.

Understanding this, the monk, the disciple of the Buddha,

Should not delight in worldly gain, but should devote himself to solitude.