Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

VII. 10. A COURTEZAN TEMPTS A MONK

Delightful are the woods. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain woman. [201]

We are told that a certain monk who lived by his alms-bowl, got a Subject of Meditation from the Teacher and retired to a dilapidated pleasure garden for the purpose of meditation. Now a certain courtezan made an assignation with a man, saying, “I will go to such and such a place and you meet me there.” The woman kept the assignation, but the man did not. For some time she watched in vain the path by which she expected him to come. Finally, disappointed at his failure to keep his assignation, she strolled hither and thither and went into the pleasure garden. There she saw the monk sitting cross-legged. Looking this way and that, and seeing no one else about, she said to herself, “Here is a man; I will throw his thoughts into confusion.” So standing in front of the monk, she took down her undergarment several times and put it on again, unloosened her hair and bound it up again, and clapped her hands and laughed. The Elder became excited; his whole body, in fact, was suffused with excitement. “What does this mean?” thought he.

The Teacher considered within himself, “A monk obtained a Subject of Meditation from me and went forth to perform his meditations. How is he getting on?” Seeing that woman, and observing her evil conduct, and perceiving that her evil conduct was upsetting the Elder, still remaining seated in his Perfumed Chamber, he spoke as follows, [202] “Monks, there is no delight where those abide who seek after their lusts. But where those abide who are free from passion, that place is full of delight.” So saying, he sent forth a radiant image of himself, and instructing the Elder in the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

99. Delightful are the woods; where the man of the world finds no delight,

There they that are free from passion find delight, not they that seek after their lusts.

At the conclusion of the Stanza that Elder, seated as he was, attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties.

BOOK VIII.

THOUSANDS

SAHASSA VAGGA

VIII. 1. A PUBLIC EXECUTIONER

Though a speech consist of a thousand words. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to Copper-tooth, a public executioner. [203]

We are told that five hundred thieves less one made a living by plundering villages and other acts of violence. Now a certain man with copper-colored teeth and tawny skin, his body covered with scars, came to them and said, “Let me also live with you.” They took him to the ringleader of the thieves, saying, “This man also wishes to live with us.” The ringleader of the thieves looked at the man and thought to himself, “This man’s nature is inordinately cruel. He is capable of cutting out the breast of his mother and eating it, or of drawing the blood from the throat of his father and drinking it.” Therefore he refused his request, saying, “It will not do for this man to live with us.”

Although he had thus been refused admission to the band of thieves, he went and won the favor of a certain pupil of the ringleader by his courteous attentions to him. This pupil took the man with him, approached the ringleader of the thieves, and said to him, “Master, this man is a dutiful servant of ours; bestow your favor on him.” Having made this request, he turned the man over to the ringleader of the thieves. [204]

One day the citizens joined forces with the king’s men, captured those thieves, took them to court, and arraigned them before the lords of justice. The justices ordered their heads to be chopped off with an axe. “Who will put these men to death?” said the citizens. After a thorough search they were unable to find a single man who was willing to put them to death. Finally they said to the ringleader of the thieves, “You put these men to death, and we will spare your life and give you a rich reward besides. You kill them.” But because

1 Text: N. ii. 203-209.

they had lived with him, he also was unwilling to put them to death. In like manner also all of the five hundred less one refused when asked. Last of all they asked that scarred, tawny, copper-tooth. “Yes, indeed,” said he, consenting. So he put to death all the thieves, and in return received his life and rich gifts besides.

In like manner also they brought in five hundred thieves from the country to the south of the city and arraigned them before the justices. When the justices ordered their heads to be chopped off, they asked each thief, beginning with the ringleader, to put his companions to death, but found not a single one willing to act as executioner. Then they said, “The other day a certain man put five hundred thieves to death. Where is he?” “We saw him in such and such a place,” was the reply. So they summoned him and said to him, “Put these men to death, and you will receive a rich reward.” “Yes, indeed,” said he, consenting. So he put them all to death and received his reward.

The citizens consulted together and said, “This is a most excellent man. We will make him permanent executioner of thieves.” So saying, they gave him the post. [205] Later on, they brought in five hundred thieves also from the west and still later five hundred also from the north, and he put them all to death. Thus he put to death two thousand thieves brought in from each of the four cardinal points. As time went on, and one or two men were brought in each day, he put them all to death. For a period of fifty-five years he acted as public executioner.

In old age he could no longer cut off a man’s head with a single blow, but was obliged to deliver two or three blows, causing much unnecessary suffering to the victims. The citizens thought to themselves, “We can get another executioner of thieves. This man subjects his victims to much unnecessary torture. Of what use is he any longer?” Accordingly they removed him from his office. During his term of office as executioner of thieves, he had been accustomed to receive four perquisites: old clothes for him to wear, milk-porridge made with fresh ghee for him to drink, jasmine flowers wherewith to deck himself, and perfumes wherewith to anoint himself. But these four perquisites he received no longer. On the day he was deposed from office, he gave orders that milk-porridge should be cooked for him. And taking with him old clothes and jasmine flowers and perfumes, he went to the river and bathed. Having so done, he put on the old clothes, decked himself with garlands, anointed his limbs, and went home and sat down. They set before him milk-porridge made with fresh ghee [206] and water for rinsing the hands.

At that moment Elder Sāriputta arose from a state of trance. Said he to himself, “Where ought I to go to-day?” Surveying his rounds for alms, he saw milk-porridge in the house of the former executioner. Considering within himself, “Will this man receive me kindly?” he became aware of the following, “This excellent man will receive me kindly and will thereby gain a rich reward.” So the Elder put on his robe, took his bowl, and showed himself at the door of the former executioner’s house.

When the man saw the Elder, his heart was filled with joy. Thought he to himself, “For a long time I have acted as executioner of thieves, and many are the men I have put to death. Now milk-porridge has been prepared in my house, and the Elder has come and stands at my threshold. Now ought I to present alms to his reverence.” So he removed the porridge which had been set before him, approached the Elder, and paid obeisance to him. And escorting him into his house, he provided him with a seat, poured the milk-porridge into his bowl, spread fresh ghee thereon, and standing beside him, began to fan him.

Now not for a long time had he tasted milk-porridge, and therefore desired greatly to drink thereof. The Elder, knowing his desire, said to him, “Lay disciple, drink your own porridge.” The man placed the fan in the hand of another and drank the porridge. The Elder said to the man who was fanning him, “Go fan the lay disciple instead.” So while he was being fanned, he filled his belly with porridge, and then went and resumed fanning the Elder. When the Elder had finished his meal, [207] he took his bowl.

When the Elder began the words of thanksgiving to his host, the man was not able to fix his mind on the Elder’s discourse. The Elder, observing this, said to him, “Lay disciple, why is it that you are not able to fix your mind on my discourse?” “Reverend Sir, for a long time I have done deeds of cruelty; I have put many men to death. It is because I keep recalling my own past deeds, that I am unable to fix my mind on your reverence’s discourse.” The Elder thought to himself, “I will play a trick on him.” So he said to the man, “But did you do this of your own free will, or were you made to do it by others?” “The king made me do it, Reverend Sir.” “If that is the case, lay disciple, what wrong did you do?” The bewildered disciple thought, “According to what the Elder says, I have done no wrong.” Said he to the Elder, “Very well, Reverend Sir, continue your discourse.”

As the Elder pronounced the words of thanksgiving, the man’s mind became tranquil; and as he listened to the Law, he developed the quality of patience, and progressed in the direction of the Path of Conversion. When the Elder had completed the words of thanksgiving, he departed. The lay disciple accompanied him a little way and then turned back. As the lay disciple was returning, an ogress came along in the form of a cow, struck him with her shoulder, and killed him. So he died and was reborn in the World of the Tusita gods.

The monks began a discussion in the Hall of Truth: “He who was an executioner of thieves, he who for fifty-five years committed acts of cruelty, to-day was relieved of his office, to-day gave alms to the Elder, to-day met death. Where was he reborn?” The Teacher came in and asked them, “Monks, what are you sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, [208] he said, “Monks, he has been reborn in the World of the Tusita gods.” “What say you, Reverend Sir? he who killed men for so long a time has been reborn in the World of the Tusita gods?” “Yes, monks. A great and good spiritual counselor did he receive. He heard Sāriputta preach the Law, and profiting thereby, acquired knowledge. When he departed from this existence, he was reborn in the World of the Tusita gods.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

He who was executioner of thieves in the city listened to words well spoken.

Gained patience accordingly, went to heaven, and is in joy.

“Reverend Sir, there is no great power in words of thanksgiving, and this man had done much wrong. How could he gain Specific Attainment with so little?” The Teacher replied, “Monks, do not measure the Law I have preached as being little or much. One saying possessed of meaning is of surpassing merit.” So saying, he instructed them in the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza,

100. Though a speech consist of a thousand words, if the sentences lack meaning.

Better were a single sentence full of meaning, which if a man hear, he is at peace.

VIII. 2. CONVERSION OF BĀHIYA DĀRUCĪRIYA

Though a Stanza consist of a thousand words. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the Elder Bāhiya Dārucīriya.

For once upon a time a party of men put to sea in a boat. When they were well out to sea, the boat sprang a leak. [210] Thereupon all of the men, with a single exception, became food for fishes and tortoises. Only one man, who seized a plank and struggled with all his might, succeeded in reaching land near Supparaka Port. When he came to land, he lacked both under and upper garments. So for lack of anything better, he wrapped himself with dry twigs and sticks and bark, and obtaining a potsherd from the royal household, went to Supparaka Port. All who saw him gave him broth, rice-porridge and other kinds of food, and did reverence to him, saying, “This is some Arahat.”

Thought he, “If I clothe myself in under and upper garments of fine texture, I shall no longer receive gain and honor.” Therefore he avoided such garments, using only the bark of trees to clothe himself withal. As many persons greeted him with the salutation “Arahat! Arahat!” the following consideration presented itself to his mind, “Am I perhaps one of those who are Arahats in this world, or who have entered the Path leading to Arahatship?” Thereupon a certain thought occurred to a deity who was a former blood-relative of his.

2 a. Digression: Story of the Past

By “former blood-relative” is meant one who formerly practiced meditation with him. It appears that in former times, when the religion of Kassapa Possessed of the Ten Forces was disappearing from the earth, seven monks, observing with regret a change for the worse in the conduct of probationers, novices, and others, said to themselves, “So long as our religion has not yet disappeared, we will make our own salvation sure.” So after reverencing their golden shrine, they entered the forest, and seeing a certain mountain, [211] they said, “Let those who still cherish attachment for the life of this world turn back; let those who have rid themselves of attachment ascend

1 This story is derived from Uddna, i. 10: 6-9. Cf. also Aṅguttara Commentary on Etadagga Vagga, Story of Bāhiya Dārucīriya. Text: N ii. 209-217.

this mountain.” Thereupon they set up a ladder, and all of them ascended the mountain, whereupon they kicked the ladder down and devoted themselves to meditation. After but a single night had passed, one of them, the Elder of the Assembly, attained Arahatship.

The Elder of the Assembly chewed a toothstick of betel at Lake Anotatta, rinsed his mouth, brought food from North Kuru and said to those monks, “Brethren, chew this toothstick, rinse your mouths, and then eat this food.” But this they refused to do, saying, “But, Reverend Sir, did we make the following agreement, ‘All shall eat the food brought by him who first attains Arahatship’?” “We made no such agreement, brethren.” “Well then, if, like you, we also develop Specific Attainment, we will bring food for ourselves and eat it.” On the second day the Second Elder attained the Fruit of the Third Path, whereupon he likewise brought food to the monks and invited them to eat it. But they said, “But, Reverend Sir, did we agree not to eat the food brought by the Chief Elder, but to eat that which should be brought by a subordinate Elder?” “We did not so agree, brethren.” “In that case, if, like you, we also develop Specific Attainment, we shall be able by our own unaided efforts to provide ourselves with food, and we shall so provide ourselves with food.” Thus did they refuse to eat the food he had brought.

Of the seven monks, the Elder of the Assembly who had attained Arahatship passed into Nibbāna, he who had attained the Fruit of the Third Path was reborn in the Brahma world, [212] and the remaining five, unable to develop Specific Attainment, wasted and withered away, died on the seventh day, and were reborn in the World of the Gods. In the period of this present Buddha they passed from that state of existence, and were reborn in various households. One of them was King Pukkusati, one was Kumāra Kassapa, one was Dārucīriya, one was Dabba the Malla, and one was the monk Sabhiya. The term “former blood-relative” therefore refers to the monk who was reborn in the Brahma world.

2. Conversion of Bāhiya Dārucīriya, concluded

To this denizen of the Brahma world, then, occurred the following thought, “This man was associated with me in setting up the ladder and in the ascent of the mountain and in the practice of meditation; but now he has adopted false views, and by his present course of conduct he is in danger of perdition; I will stir him up.” Accordingly he approached him and spoke thus, “Bāhiya, you are not an Arahat, nor have you entered the Path that leads to Arahatship; moreover the course that you have adopted is not such that you will thereby attain Arahatship or enter the Path that leads to Arahatship.” As Mahā Brahma, poised in the air, spoke these words, Bāhiya looked upon him and thought to himself, “Oh, what a plight I am in! I thought to myself, ‘I am an Arahat;’ but yonder spirit says to me, ‘You are not an Arahat, nor have you entered the Path that leads to Arahatship.’ [213] Is there perhaps any other Arahat in the world?”

Accordingly Bāhiya asked the spirit, “Deity, are there perhaps now in the world Arahats or those who have entered the Path leading to Arahatship?” Then the deity informed him as follows, “Bāhiya, there lies to the north a city named Sāvatthi; and there, at the present time, dwells he that is the Exalted One, the Arahat of Arahats, the Supremely Enlightened; and he that is the Exalted One, the Arahat of Arahats, preaches the Truth of Arahatship.”

As Bāhiya listened in the night time to the speech of the deity, he became greatly agitated in mind; and instantly departing from Supparaka, in the space of one night he arrived at Sāvatthi. The entire distance of a hundred and twenty leagues he traveled in the space of one night; but when he went thus, he went by the supernatural power of the deity. (Others would say, “by the supernatural power of the Buddha.”) At the moment when he arrived, the Teacher had entered the city for alms. When Bāhiya had breakfasted, he observed many monks taking their exercise in the open air by walking up and down, and he asked them, “Where is the Teacher now?” Said the monks, “He has just entered Sāvatthi for alms.” Then the monks asked Bāhiya, “But whence have you come?” “I have come from Supparaka.” “When did you leave Supparaka?” [214] “Yesterday evening.” “You have come a long way. Just sit down, bathe your feet, anoint them with oil, and rest yourself a while. When the Teacher returns you will see him.” “Reverend Sir, I know not when the Teacher may die, or when I may die myself. I came here in the space of but a single night, neither stopping nor sitting down anywhere to rest. I have come a journey of a hundred and twenty leagues. So soon as I have seen the Teacher, I will rest myself.”

When he had thus spoken, his body all of a tremble, he entered Sāvatthi and beheld the Exalted One making his round for alms with the incomparable grace of a Buddha. Said he to himself, “It is a long time indeed since I have seen Gotama the Supremely Enlightened.” And from the point where he had first seen him, he proceeded with his body inclined in an attitude of profound reverence; even as he stood in the street, he paid obeisance to him with the Five Rests, and took him firmly by the ankles, and spoke thus to him, “Let the Exalted One teach me the Law; let the Happy One teach me the Law, that it may avail for a long time to come to my welfare and salvation.”

But the Teacher turned him away, saying, “You come out of due season, Bāhiya; I have entered among the houses for alms.” When Bāhiya heard these words, he said, “Reverend Sir, as I have passed through the round of existences, I have not before received material food. I know not the hour when you or I shall die: teach me the Law.” But the Teacher turned him away the second time as before. (This, we are told, was the thought that occurred to him, “From the time this man first saw me, his whole body has been suffused with joy; from the great shock of joy he has received, though he should listen to the Law, he would not be able to comprehend it; [215] let him remain for a time in a state of placid equanimity. Moreover, by reason of the fact that he has come a journey of a hundred and twenty leagues in but a single night, his weariness is great; just let this subside.”) Therefore did the Teacher turn him away twice. When Bāhiya put his request the third time, the Teacher, remaining where he was in the street, said to him:

“Therefore, Bāhiya, thus you must learn: In the seen, there can be only what is seen; in the heard, there can be only what is heard; in the thought, there can be only what is thought; in the known, there can be only what is known. For, Bāhiya, thus you must learn: Since, Bāhiya, for you, in the seen there can be only what is seen, in the heard what is heard, in the thought what is thought, in the known what is known, therefore you, Bāhiya, are not here. Since you, Bāhiya, are not here, therefore you, Bāhiya, are neither in this world, nor in the next world, nor betwixt the two. This alone is the end of suffering.”

Even as Bāhiya listened to the Teacher’s discourse, he threw off all the Depravities and obtained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties. Straightway he asked the Teacher to admit him to the Order. Upon this the Teacher asked him, “Have you bowl and robe complete?” “I have not bowl and robe complete,” replied Bāhiya. Then said the Teacher to him, “Well then, seek bowl and robe.” So saying, the Teacher went his way.

We are told that during the period of twenty thousand years during which Bāhiya practiced meditation, he never did a single monk the favor of presenting him with bowl and robe; but that he used to say, “A monk ought to provide himself with his own requisites without looking to another; he ought through his own unaided efforts to provide himself with food;” and that the Teacher, knowing this, and knowing that for this reason he would not obtain bowl and robe created by supernatural power, did not admit him to the Order with the usual formula, “Come, monk!”

As Bāhiya was seeking bowl and robe, a certain ogress in the form of a heifer approached, struck him with her left shoulder, and deprived him of life. The Teacher, after making his round for alms and after eating his breakfast, came forth with a large company of monks, [216] and saw the body of Bāhiya lying prostrate on the dust-heap. Straightway he commanded the monks as follows, “Monks, bring a litter which stands at the door of a certain house, carry the body of this man out of the city, bum it, and erect a mound over the remains.” The monks did so, and having so done, returned to the monastery, approached the Teacher, told him what they had done, and inquired about the future state of the dead man.

Thereupon the Teacher announced that he had passed into Nibbāna, and assigned him preeminence, saying, “Monks, preeminent among my disciples and monks who are quick to learn the truth is Bāhiya Dārucīriya.” Then the monks asked him, “Reverend Sir, you say, ‘Bāhiya Dārucīriya has attained Arahatship;’ when did he attain Arahatship?” “Monks, it was when he heard me preach the Law.” “But when did you preach the Law to him?” “While I was making my rounds for alms, standing in the middle of the street.” “Was not the discourse you delivered standing in the middle of the street an extremely short one, Reverend Sir? How was it that he developed Specific Attainment after hearing so very little?” Then said the Teacher to them, “Monks, do not measure my Law as being ‘little’ or ‘much.’ There is no virtue even in many thousands of Stanzas. A single sentence of a Stanza, which contains the truth, is better.” And when he had thus spoken, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, he pronounced the following Stanza,

101. Though a Stanza consist of a thousand words, if the sentences lack meaning.

Better were a single sentence of a Stanza, which if a man hear he is at peace.

VIII. 3. THE MAIDEN WHO MARRIED A THIEF

Though one should recite a hundred Stanzas. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana concerning Kundalakesi. [217]

A rich merchant of Rājagaha, it seems, had an only daughter who was about sixteen years of age, and she was exceedingly beautiful and fair to see. (When women reach this age, they burn and long for men.) Her mother and father lodged her on the topmost floor of a seven-storied palace in an apartment of royal splendor, and gave her only a single slave-woman to wait upon her. 2

Now one day a young man of station was caught in the act of robbery. They bound his hands behind his back and led him to the place of execution, scourging him with lashes at every cross-roads. The merchant’s daughter heard the shouts of the crowd, said to herself, “What is that?” looked down from the top of the palace, and saw him. [218]

Straightway she fell in love with him. So great, in fact, was her longing for him that she took to her bed and refused to eat. Her mother asked her, “What does this mean, my dear daughter?” “If I can have that young man who was caught in the act of committing robbery and who was led through the streets, life will be worth living; if not, life is not worth living; I shall die here and now.” “Do not act in this manner, my dear daughter; you shall have some one else for your husband, some one who is our equal in birth and family and wealth.” “I will have no one else; if I cannot have this man I shall die.”

The mother, unable to pacify her daughter, told the father; but the father likewise was unable to pacify his daughter. “What is to be done?” thought he. He sent a thousand pieces of money to the king’s officer who had captured the robber and who was accompanying him to the place of execution, saying, “Take this money and send the robber to me.” “Very well!” said the king’s officer. He took the money, released the robber, had another man put to death, and sent word to the king, “The robber has been executed, your majesty.”

1 Parallels: Aṅguttara Commentary Commentary, xlvi: 99-102; Jātaka 318 Vatthu Commentary, i. 1: Text: N ii. 217-227.

2 Cf. the beginning of stories ii. 3, viii. 12, and ix. 8 JRAS., 1893, 771-785; Therv-Gatha iii. 58-63; Jataka 419; iii. 435-438; Peta-

The merchant gave his daughter in marriage to the robber. She resolved to win the favor of her husband; and from that time on, adorned with all her adornments, she prepared her husband’s meals with her own hand. After a few days the robber thought to himself, “When can I kill this woman, take her jewels and sell them, and so be able to take my meals in a certain tavern? This is the way!”

He took to his bed and refused to eat. She came to him and asked, “Are you in pain?” “Not at all, wife.” “Then perhaps my mother and father are angry with you?” “They are not angry with me, wife.” “What is the matter, then?” “Wife, that day when I was bound [219] and led through the streets, I saved my life by vowing an offering to the deity that lives on Robbers’ Cliff; likewise it was through his supernatural power that I gained you for my wife. I was wondering how I could fulfill my vow of an offering to the deity.” “Husband, do not worry; I will see to the offering; tell me what is needed.” “Rich rice-porridge, flavored with honey; and the five kinds of flowers, including the lāja flower.” “Very well, husband, I will make ready the offering.”

Having prepared the whole offering, she said to her husband, “Come, husband, let us go.” “Very well, wife; let your kinsmen re-main behind; put on your costly garments and adorn yourself with your precious jewels, and we will go gayly, laughing and disporting ourselves.” She did as she was told. When they reached the foot of the mountain, the robber said to her, “Wife, from this point on let us two go alone; we will send back the rest of the company in a conveyance; you take the vessel containing the offering and carry it yourself.” She did as she was told.

The robber took her in his arms and climbed the mountain to the top of Robbers’ Cliff. (One side of this mountain men can climb; but the other side is a precipitous cliff, from the top of which robbers are flung, being dashed to pieces before they reach the bottom; therefore it is called “Robbers’ Cliff.”) Standing on the top of the mountain, she said, “Husband, present the offering.” Her husband made no reply. Again [220] she spoke, “Husband, why do you remain silent?” Then he said to her, “I have no use for the offering; I deceived you in bringing you here with an offering.” “Then why did you bring me here, husband?” “To kill you, seize your jewels, and escape.” Terrified with the fear of death, she said to him, “Husband, both my jewels and my person belong to you; why do you speak thus?” Over and over again she pleaded with him, “Do not do this;” but his only reply was, “I will kill you.” “After all, what will you gain by killing me? Take these jewels and spare my life; henceforth regard me as your mother, or else let me be your slave-woman and work for you.” So saying, she recited the following Stanza,

Take these golden bracelets, all set with beryls.

Take all, and welcome; call me your slave-woman.

The robber, hearing this, said to her, “Despite what you say, were I to spare your life, you would go and tell your mother and father all. I will kill you. That is all. Lament not with vehement lamentation.” So saying, he recited the following Stanza,

Lament not overmuch; tie up your possessions quickly.

You have not long to live; I shall take all your possessions. [221]

She thought to herself, “Oh, what a wicked deed is this! However, wisdom was not made to be cooked and eaten, but rather to make men look before they leap. I shall find a way of dealing with him.” And she said to him, “Husband, when they caught you in the act of committing robbery and led you through the streets, I told my mother and father, and they spent a thousand pieces of money in ransoming you, and they gave you a place in their house, and from that time on I have been your benefactress; to-day do me the favor of letting me pay obeisance to you.” “Very well, wife,” said he, granted her the favor of paying obeisance to him, and then took his stand near the edge of the cliff.

She walked around him three times, keeping him on her right hand, and paid obeisance to him in the four places. Then she said to him, “Husband, this is the last time I shall see you. Henceforth you will see me no more, neither shall I see you any more.” And she embraced him both before and behind. Then, remaining behind him, as he stood off his guard near the edge of the cliff, she put one hand to his shoulder and the other to the small of his back, and flung him over the cliff. Thus was the robber hurled into the abyss of the mountain, and dashed to pieces when he reached the bottom. The deity that dwelt on the top of Robbers’ Cliff observed the actions of the two, and applauding the woman, uttered the following Stanza,

Wisdom is not always confined to men;

A woman, too, is wise, and shows it now and then. [222]

Having thrown the robber over the cliff, the woman thought to herself, “If I go home, they will ask me, ‘Where is your husband?’ and if, in answer to their question, I say, ‘I have killed him,’ they will pierce me with the knives of their tongues, saying, ‘We ransomed the scoundrel with a thousand pieces of money and now you have killed him.’ If, on the other hand, I say, ‘He sought to kill me for my jewels,’ they will not believe me. I’m done with home!” She cast off her jewels, went into the forest, and after wandering about for a time came to a certain hermitage of nuns. She reverently bowed and said, “Sister, receive me into your Order as a nun.” So they received her as a nun.

After she had become a nun, she asked, “Sister, what is the goal of your Religious Life?” “Sister, the development of spiritual ecstasy through the employment of the ten Kasinas, or else the memorizing of a thousand articles of faith; this is the highest aim of our Religious Life.” “Spiritual ecstasy I shall not be able to develop. Reverend Sister; but I will master the thousand articles of faith.” When she had mastered the thousand articles of faith, they said to her, “You have acquired proficiency; now go throughout the length and breadth of the Land of the Rose-Apple and look for some one able to match question and answer with you.”

So, placing a branch of rose-apple in her hands, [223] they dismissed her with these words, “Go forth, sister; if any one who is a layman is able to match question and answer with you, become his slave; if any monk, enter his Order as a nun.” Adopting the name “Nun of the Rose-Apple,” she left the hermitage and went about from place to place asking questions of everyone she saw. No one was able to match question and answer with her; in fact, such a reputation did she acquire that whenever men heard the announcement, “Here comes the ‘Nun of the Rose-Apple,’” they would run away.

Before entering a town or village for alms, she would scrape a pile of sand together before the village gate and there plant her rose-apple branch. Then she would issue her challenge, “Let him that is able to match question and answer with me trample this rose-apple branch under his feet.” So saying, she would enter the village. No one dared to pass beyond that spot. When one branch withered, she would procure a fresh one. Traveling about in this way, she arrived at Sāvatthi, planted the branch before the city gate, issued her challenge in the usual way, and went in to seek alms. A number of young boys gathered about the branch and waited to see what would happen. Just then the Elder Sāriputta, who had made his round and eaten his breakfast and was on his way out of the city, saw those boys standing about the branch and asked them, “What does this mean?” The boys explained matters to the Elder. Said the Elder, “Go ahead, boys, trample that branch under your feet.” “We are afraid to, Reverend Sir.” [224] “I will answer the question; you go ahead and trample the branch under your feet.” The Elder’s words supplied the boys with the necessary courage. Forthwith they trampled the branch under their feet, shouting and kicking up the dust.

When the nun returned, she rebuked them and said, “I don’t intend to bandy question and answer with you; how did you come to trample the branch under your feet?” “Our noble Elder told us to.” “Reverend Sir, did you tell them to trample my branch under their feet?” “Yes, sister.” “Well then, match question and answer with me.” “Very well, I will do so.”

As the shades of evening drew on, she went to the Elder’s residence to put her questions. The entire city was stirred up. The people said to each other, “Let us go and hear the talk of the two learned persons.” Accompanying the nun from the city to the Elder’s residence, they bowed to the Elder and seated themselves respectfully on one side.

The nun said to the Elder, “Reverend Sir, I wish to ask you a question.” “Ask it, sister.” So she asked him the thousand articles of faith. Every question the nun asked, the Elder answered correctly. Then he said to her, “You have asked only these few questions; are there any others?” “These are all, Reverend Sir.” “You have asked many questions; I will ask you just one; will you answer me?” “Ask your question, Reverend Sir.” [225] Then the Elder asked her the following question, “What is ‘One’?” 1 She said to herself, “This is a question I should be able to answer;” but not knowing the answer, she inquired of the Elder, “What is it, Reverend Sir?” “That is the Buddha’s question, sister.” “Tell me also the answer, Reverend Sir.” “If you will enter our Order, I will tell you the

1 That is to say: “What is the answer to Question One of the Novice’s Questions?” See Khuddaka Pdtha, iv. 1.

answer.” “Very well, admit me to the Order.” The Elder sent word to the nuns and had her admitted. After being admitted to the Order, she made her full profession, took the name Kundalakesi, and after a few days became an Arahat endowed with the Supernatural Faculties. In the Hall of Truth the monks began a discussion of the incident. “Kundalakesi heard little of the Law and yet she succeeded in being admitted to the Order; moreover, she came here after fighting a fierce battle with a robber and defeating him.” The Teacher came in and asked them, “Monks, what is it that you are sitting here discussing now?” They told him, “Monks, measure not the Law I have taught as being ‘little’ or ‘much.’ There is no superior merit in a hundred sentences that are meaningless; but one Sentence of the Law is better. He that defeats all other robbers wins no victory at all, but he who defeats the robbers that are his own Depravities, his is victory indeed.” Then he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanzas,

102. Though one should recite a hundred Stanzas composed of meaningless sentences.

Yet one Sentence of the Law were better, which if a man hear he is at peace. [226]

103. Though one should conquer a thousand times a thousand men in battle,

Yet would he be the mightiest conqueror who should conquer one, himself.

VIII. 4. GAIN AND LOSS

Victory over self is better. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a Brahman who asked about gain and loss. [227]

The story goes that this Brahman considered within himself, “Does the Supremely Enlightened know gain alone or does he know loss also? I will ask him.” Accordingly he approached the Teacher and asked him, “Reverend Sir, tell me, I pray you, do you know gain alone, and not loss?” “Brahman, I know both gain and loss.” “Well then, tell me about loss.” At once the Teacher pronounced the following Stanza,

Unprofitable is sleeping after sunrise, idleness, the moonlight, long-continued prosperity.

Going on journeys, seeking after other men’s wives.

Seek after these things, Brahman, and you will gain that which will be of no advantage to you.

1 Text: N ii. 227-229.

When the Brahman heard this, he applauded the Teacher, saying, “Well said, well said, teacher of the multitude, leader of the multitude! You know indeed both gain and loss.” [228] “Indeed, Brahman, there is none other that knows loss so well as I.” Then the Teacher considered within himself what motive actuated the Brahman, and asked him, “Brahman, how do you make your living?” “By gambling, Sir Gotama.” “But which wins, you or the other man?” “Sometimes I win and sometimes the other man wins.” Then said the Teacher, “Brahman, a trifling matter is the victory of him who defeats another; there is no superior advantage in such a victory. But he who overcomes his Depravities and so conquers self, wins a better victory, for such a victory no one can turn into defeat.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanzas,

104. Victory over self is better than victory over all other folk besides;

If a man conquer self, and live always under restraint,

105. Neither god nor gandhabba nor Māra with Brahma united.

Can turn into defeat the victory of such a man.

VIII. 5. SĀRIPUTTA’S UNCLE

Though a man, month after month. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to Elder Sāriputta’s uncle. [230]

The story goes that Elder Sāriputta once went to his uncle and said, “Brahman, do you ever do a single good deed?” “I do, Reverend Sir.” “What do you do?” “Month after month, I give alms to the value of a thousand pieces of money.” “To whom do you give this money?” “To the Naked Ascetics, Reverend Sir.” “And what do you hope to gain thereby?” “I hope to gain the World of Brahma.” “But is this the way to reach the World of Brahma?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “Who told you so?” “My teachers told me so, Reverend Sir.” “Brahman, neither you nor your teachers know the way to the World of Brahma. The Teacher alone knows the way thereto. Come with me, and I will ask him to tell you the way to the World of Brahma.”

So Elder Sāriputta took his uncle with him, went to the Teacher, and told him all about it, saying, “Reverend Sir, this Brahman said

1 Text: N ii. 230-231.

so and so. Be so good as to tell him the way to the World of Brahma.” The Teacher asked, “Brahman, are you correctly reported?” “Yes, Sir Gotama.” “Brahman, though you should give alms in this way for a hundred years, [231] yet were it far more fruitful for a man, with believing heart, for but a single instant to look upon my disciple or to bestow upon him a mere spoonful of boiled rice.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

106. Though a man, month after month, for a hundred years, should sacrifice a thousand pieces of money,

Yet, should he honor for even a single instant a man who has trained himself.

It were better for him so to render honor than to offer sacrifice for a hundred years.

VIII. 6. SĀRIPUTTA’S NEPHEW

Though a man for a hundred years. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to Elder Sāriputta’s nephew. [232]

For the Elder went to his nephew also and said, “Brahman, do you ever do a single good deed?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “What do you do?” “Month after month, I slay a single beast and tend the sacrificial fire.” “For what purpose do you do that?” “That, they say, is the way to the World of Brahma.” “Who told you so?” “My teachers, Reverend Sir.” “Neither you nor your teachers know the way to the World of Brahma. Come, let us go to the Teacher.”

So Elder Sāriputta conducted his nephew to the Teacher, informed the Teacher of the incident, and said to him, “Reverend Sir, tell this man the way to the World of Brahma.” Said the Teacher, “Brahman, are you correctly reported?” “Yes, Sir Gotama.” “Brahman, though you should thus tend the sacrificial fire for a hundred years, yet would the merit of your performance not attain the worth of honor done to my disciple for even a single instant.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

107. Though a man for a hundred years should tend the sacrificial fire in the forest.

Yet, should he honor for even a single instant a man who has trained himself.

It were better for him so to render honor than to offer sacrifice for a hundred years.

1 Text: N ii. 232-233.

VIII. 7. SĀRIPUTTA’S FRIEND

Whatsoever a man sacrifice. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to Elder Sāriputta’s friend. [233]

The Elder approached him also and asked him, “Brahman, do you ever do a single good deed?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “What do you do?” “I offer sacrificial slaughter.” (At that time, we are told, it was the custom to offer sacrificial slaughter at an expenditure of immense sums of money.) The Elder, after questioning his companion in the manner related above, conducted him to the Teacher, informed him of the incident, and said to him, “Reverend Sir, tell this man the way to the World of Brahma.” The Teacher asked him, “Brahman, are you correctly reported?” “Yes,” replied the Brahman. “Brahman, though you should offer sacrificial slaughter for a year, yet [234] would your act not be worth the fourth part of the act of him who, with believing heart, bestows alms on the populace, or of those who, with good intention, render homage to my disciples.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

108. Whatsoever, either by way of sacrificial slaughter or by way of oblation.

Though it be for a year, a man sacrifice, desiring merit.

All that comes not to the value of a fourth part;

Reverence for them that are upright is better.

VIII. 8. THE LAD WHOSE YEARS INCREASED

If a man have the habit of reverence. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Arannakutika near Dighalambika with reference to the youth Dighayu. [235]

The story goes that two Brahmans, residents of the city of Dighalambika, retired from the world, became members of an heretical order, and for forty-eight years performed religious austerities. Finally one of them thought, “My line will perish; I will therefore return to the world.” Accordingly he sold to others the merit of the austerities he had performed, and with a hundred cattle and a hundred pieces of

1 Text: N ii. 233-235.

2 Text: N ii. 235-

money procured him a wife and set up a household. After a time his wife gave birth to a son.

Now the other monk, his former companion, after visiting foreign parts, returned once more to that city. Hearing that he had returned, the layman took son and wife and went to see him. When he met him, he placed his son in the arms of the mother, and himself saluted the monk. Then the mother placed the child in the arms of the father and saluted the monk. “Live long!” said the monk to them. [236] But when the son was made to salute him, he held his peace.

Said the father, “Reverend Sir, why was it that when we saluted you, you said, ‘Live long!’ but when this boy saluted you, you said not a word?” “Some disaster awaits this boy, Brahman.” “How long will he live, Reverend Sir?” “For seven days, Brahman.” “Is there any way of averting this, Reverend Sir?” “I know of no way of averting this.” “But who might know, Reverend Sir?” “The monk Gotama; go to him and ask him.” “Were I to go there, I should be afraid because of having abandoned my austerities.” “If you love your son, think not of having abandoned your austerities, but go to him and ask him.”

The Brahman went to the Teacher, and himself straightway saluted him. “Live long!” said the Teacher. When the boy’s mother saluted him, he said the same. But when they made the boy salute him, he held his peace. Then the Brahman asked the Teacher the same question he had previously asked the monk, and the Teacher made the same prediction. We are told that this Brahman, not having attained omniscience, united his own wisdom with omniscience, but for all that discovered no way of averting his son’s fate. The Brahman asked the Teacher, “Reverend Sir, is there no way of averting this?” “There might be, Brahman.” “What way might there be, Reverend Sir?”

“If you erect a pavilion before the door of your house, [237] and set a chair in the center of it, and arrange eight or sixteen seats in a circle about it, and cause my disciples to sit therein; and if you then cause texts to be recited for the purpose of securing protection and averting evil consequences for the space of seven days uninterruptedly, in that case the danger that threatens him might be averted.” “Sir Gotama, it is a perfectly easy matter to erect a pavilion and do all the rest, but how am I to obtain the services of your disciples?” “If you will do all this, I will send my disciples.” “Very well, Sir Gotama.”

So the Brahman completed all of the preparations at the door of his house and then went to the Teacher. The Teacher sent the monks, and they went there and sat down, seating the boy also on a little bench. For seven nights and seven days without interruption, the monks recited the usual texts, and on the seventh day the Teacher came himself. When the Teacher came, the deities of all the worlds assembled. But a certain ogre named Avaruddhaka, who had served Vessavana for twelve years and who had received the boon, “Seven days hence you shall receive this boy,” approached and stood waiting. But when the Teacher came there, and the powerful deities gathered themselves together, and the weak deities drew back, [238] stepping back twelve leagues so as to make room, then Avaruddhaka stepped back also.

The Teacher recited the Protective Texts all night long, with the result that when the seven days had elapsed, Avaruddhaka failed to get the boy. Indeed, when the dawn of the eighth day rose, they brought the boy and caused him to make obeisance to the Teacher. Said the Teacher, “Live long!” “Sir Gotama, how long will the boy live?” “For a hundred and twenty years, Brahman.” So they gave him the name of Lad-whose-years-increased, Ayuvaddhana. When the youth grew up, he went about surrounded by five hundred lay disciples.

One day the monks began a discussion in the Hall of Truth: “Just think, brethren! The youth Ayuvaddhana would have died on the seventh day, but now he is destined to live for a hundred and twenty years. There he goes, surrounded by five hundred lay disciples. There must therefore be some reason why the term of life of living beings here in the world increases.” The Teacher approached and asked them, “Monks, what are you sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, he said, “Monks, it is not a matter of years alone. Living beings here in the world who respect and reverence the virtuous, increase in four matters, obtain release from danger, and abide in safety unto the end of their days.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza, [239]

109. If a man have the habit of reverence, if he alway respect the aged. Four things increase for him: age, beauty, happiness, power.

VIII. 9. SAṀKICCA THE NOVICE

Though one should live a hundred years. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the novice Saṁkicca. [240]

The story goes that thirty men of respectable families living at Sāvatthi heard the Teacher preach the Law, yielded the breast to his teaching, and became monks. Five years after their full profession, they approached the Teacher, and listened to his exposition of the Two Burdens; namely, the Burden of Study and the Burden of Meditation. Concluding that because they had become monks in old age, it would be impossible for them to fulfil the Burden of Study, but desiring to fulfill the Burden of Meditation, they had the Teacher assign them a Formula of Meditation leading to Arahatship, and requested his permission to go to a certain retreat in the forest. The Teacher asked them to what place they wished to go. When they told him, he thought to himself, “They will be in danger of harm there through a certain eater of broken meats. But if the novice Saṁkicca accompanies them, the danger will be removed, and they will reach the goal of their Religious Life.”

The novice Saṁkicca was the novice of the Elder Sāriputta and was but seven years old. As for his birth, his mother was the daughter of a rich man of Sāvatthi, and while he yet remained in the womb, his mother died suddenly of a certain disease. When her body was burned, all of her flesh was burned with it, save only the flesh of her unborn child. In taking the unborn child from the pyre, the sticks that they used pierced the flesh in two or three places, and the sharp point of one stick hit the pupil of the boy’s eye. [241] Having thus pierced the flesh of the unborn child, they threw his body on the heap of coals, covered it entirely with coals, and went their way. The flesh of the child was burned away, but on the summit of the heap of coals there appeared, sitting as it were in the calyx of a lotus-flower, a little boy who looked like a golden image. For he was in his last existence before attaining Nibbāna, and since he had not yet attained Arahatship, nothing could have destroyed him, not even had Mount Sineru fallen upon him to crush him.

1 Dhammapala refers to this story at Thera-Gatha Commentary, ccxl, and quotes the Dhammapada Commentary by name. Text: N ii. 240-253.

When they went the next day to extinguish the pile, and saw the child lying there in such wise, they were filled with wonder and amazement. And they said to themselves, “How did it happen that with all these sticks of wood aflame, and his whole body on fire, this child was not burned to death? What does this portend?” So they carried the child into the village and consulted the fortune-tellers. The fortune-tellers said, “If this child lives the life of a householder, his kinsfolk will not be poor for seven generations. If he becomes a monk, he will go about with a retinue of five hundred monks.” Because the pupil of his eye had been pierced with a stick (saṁku), they gave him the name Saṁkicca; and from that time forth he bore the name Saṁkicca. His kinsfolk reared him with the thought in their minds, “Let be! when he has grown up we will have our noble Elder make a monk of him.”

When he was seven years old, [242] he heard his boy-companions say, “Your mother died while you were still in her womb. Although her body was burned on the pile, nevertheless you yourself were not burned.” Thereupon he said to his kinsfolk, “My companions tell me that I was saved from so terrible a danger as that; why should I live the life of a householder? I will become a monk.” “Very well, dear child,” said they, and taking the boy to the Elder Sāriputta, they committed him to his care, saying, “Reverend Sir, receive this child into the Order.” The Elder taught him the Formula of Meditation, consisting of the first five of the constituent parts of the body, and received him into the Order. The moment the razor touched his hair, he attained Arahatship. This was the novice Saṁkicca.

The Teacher, knowing within himself, “If this novice goes with them, this danger will be removed, and they will reach the goal of their Religious Life,” said to them, “Monks, see your older brother the Elder Sāriputta before you go.” “Very well,” said they, and straightway went to the Elder. “What is it, brethren?” said he. They replied, “We have received our Formula of Meditation from the Teacher, and asked his permission to go to the forest. But he said to us, ‘See your older brother before you go;’ therefore we have come here.” The Elder thought to himself, “The Teacher must have had some reason for sending these monks here; what can it be?” Having considered the matter, he became aware of the reason; whereupon he said to them, “Is the novice with you?” “Nay, brother, he is not.” “In that case get the novice Saṁkicca and take him with you.” “Nay, brother, the novice will be a hindrance to us. Of what use will the novice be to us during our residence in the forest?” “You are mistaken, [243] brethren. The novice will not be a hindrance to you. On the contrary, you will be a hindrance to him. The Teacher sent you to me because he wished the novice to accompany you. Therefore take him with you when you go.”

“Very well,” said they, consenting. So they took the novice with them, and, thirty-one in number, they bade farewell to the Elder and departed from the monastery. They traveled from place to place, and after making a journey of a hundred and twenty leagues, they came to a village in which dwelt a thousand families. When the inhabitants saw them, their hearts were filled with joy. After ministering faithfully to their needs, they asked them, “Reverend Sirs, where do you intend to go?” “To a comfortable lodging, brethren,” said the monks. Thereupon the inhabitants prostrated themselves before their feet and begged them to remain, saying, “Reverend Sirs, if you will take up your residence near this place for the season of the rains, we will take upon ourselves the Five Precepts and perform the Fast-Day Duties.”

The Elders accepted the invitation. Thereupon the inhabitants arranged for them night-quarters and day-quarters, covered walks, and huts of leaves and grass. And distributing the duties day by day among the several groups, so that each might do his share and none be overburdened, they ministered faithfully to their needs. On the day when they entered upon residence for the rainy season, the Elders came to the following agreement, “Brethren, we have received our Formula of Meditation from the living Buddha; and it is impossible to win the favor of the Buddhas otherwise than by the faithful performance of religious duties. Now the doors of the states of suffering stand open before us; therefore with the exception of the early morning, when we go the round for alms, and of the evening, when we wait upon the Elder, [244] at no time other than these two, may two of us be together. If any one fall sick, let him strike upon a bell and we will go to him and provide him with medicine. From this time forth, at whatsoever time of the night or of the day it may be, let us apply ourselves diligently to our Formula of Meditation.” Having made this agreement, they entered upon residence.

Now at this time a poor man who had been supported by one of his daughters, but who had been obliged to remove from his former place of residence on account of lack of food there, set out on a journey to obtain support from another daughter. On the same day the Elders, after making their round for alms in the village, returning to their place of residence, bathed in a certain river by the way, and sat down on a bed of sand to eat their meal.

At that moment the poor man came to that place and stood respectfully on one side. “Whence do you come?” the Elders asked him. The poor man told his story. The Elders took pity on him and said, “Lay disciple, you seem to be very hungry. Go get a leaf, and each of us will give you a portion of rice.” When he brought the leaf, they mixed rice with sauce and curry, and each of them gave him a portion of the same kind of food they were themselves eating. For it is said, “Should a stranger come at meal-time [245] and a monk offer him food, failing the best food, he should give him precisely the same kind of food he himself is eating, be it little or much.” Therefore did these monks also act accordingly.

When he had finished his meal, he bowed to the Elders and asked, “Reverend Sirs, has any one invited you to a meal?” “We have received no invitation, lay disciple. From day to day men give us just this sort of food.” The poor man thought to himself, “Even were we up and doing every moment of the time, we could never obtain food like this. Why should I go elsewhere? I will live with these monks.” So he said to them, “I should like to live with you, performing the major and minor duties.” “Very well, lay disciple.” So he accompanied them to their place of residence, and by his faithful performance of the major and minor duties won their favor completely.

When two months had passed, he desired to see his daughter. But because he thought that in case he asked permission of the monks they would not let him go, he decided to leave even without their permission. So he left without so much as asking their permission. This was the only gross breach of propriety he committed; namely, in leaving without obtaining permission of the monks.

As he proceeded on his journey, he came to a certain forest. Now for seven days there had been living in this forest five hundred thieves, who had made the following vow to a spirit, “Whoever enters this forest, we will kill him and make an offering to you with his flesh and blood.” Therefore when the oldest thief climbed a tree on the seventh day [246] to look for victims and saw the man coming, he gave a sign to the thieves; and as soon as they were sure that he was well within the forest, they surrounded him, seized him, and bound him fast. Then gathering a quantity of firewood and kindling a fire by attrition, they started a great bonfire and cut and sharpened wooden stakes.

When he saw what they were doing, he said to the ringleader, “Master, I see no pigs right here, nor any other wild animals. Why are you making all these preparations?” “We intend to kill you and to make an offering to a spirit with your flesh and blood.” Terrified with the fear of death, he gave not a moment’s thought to the kind assistance he had received from the monks, but sought only to save his own life. Said he, “Master, I am only an eater of broken meats; that is to say, I have been brought up to eat only the remnants of food eaten by others. I am only an eater of broken meats, the very personification of adversity. But in such and such a place reside thirty-one monks, men of princely rank, worthy men who have retired from the world here and there. Kill them, make an offering with their blood, and your spirit will be pleased beyond measure.”

When the thieves heard this, they thought to themselves, “This man makes a good suggestion. Of what use to us is this personification of adversity? Let us kill these men of princely rank and make an offering with their blood.” So they said to the man, “Go ahead and show us where they reside.” And taking him along as guide, they arrived at the place he mentioned. Seeing no monks within the monastery, they asked him, “Where are the monks?” The man, since he had lived with the monks for two months and knew all about the agreement they had made, replied as follows, [247] “They are sitting in their night-quarters and in their day-quarters. Let someone strike the bell, and at the sound of the bell they will all assemble.”

So the ringleader of the thieves struck the bell. When the monks heard the sound of the bell, they thought, “It is an unusual time for the bell to be struck. Who can be sick?” And coming to the monastery court, they sat down in order on the stone seats which had been placed there. The Elder of the Assembly looked at the thieves and asked, “Lay disciples, who struck this bell?” The ringleader of the thieves replied, “I did, Reverend Sir.” “For what reason?” “We made a vow to the forest-spirit, and wish to take one monk with us for the purpose of making an offering.”

When the Chief Elder heard this, he said to the monks, “Brethren, when brothers undertake a duty, the final decision rests with the senior brother. Therefore I will surrender my life for your sake and go with these men.” And he added, “Let not death be the portion of all; perform your meditations with heedfulness.” The Junior Elder said, “Reverend Sir, the duty of the senior brother should be borne by the junior. I will go. Be heedful.” Likewise did all thirty monks rise in order and say, “Let none but me go.” Thus did they, although not the sons of the same mother or of the same father, because they were free from the Attachments, rise in order, and offer to surrender their lives for the sake of the rest. Not one was so cowardly as to say, “You go.”

When the novice Saṁkicca heard them speak thus, he said, “Reverend Sirs, [248] you remain here; I will surrender my life for you and go.” “Brother, even if we’re all murdered here together, we’ll not let you go alone.” “Why, Reverend Sir?” “Brother, you are the novice of the Elder Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith. If we let you go, the Elder will blame us, saying, ‘They took my novice with them, and then went and handed him over to a pack of thieves;’ and we shall not be able to escape the reproach. For this reason we will not let you go.” “Reverend Sir, the Supremely Enlightened sent you to my preceptor, and my preceptor sent me with you for this very reason. You remain here; I alone will go.” And bowing to the thirty monks, he said, “Reverend Sirs, if I have been guilty of any fault, pray forgive me.” So saying, he departed.

The monks were profoundly moved, their eyes filled with tears, and their heart’s flesh trembled. The Chief Elder said to the thieves, “Lay disciples, this boy will be frightened if he sees you building a fire, sharpening stakes, and spreading leaves. Therefore, while you are making these preparations, let him remain at a distance.”

The thieves took the novice with them, directed him to stand aside, and made all the preparations. When everything was in readiness, the ringleader of the thieves [249] unsheathed his sword and approached the novice. The novice sat down, and sitting there, entered into a state of trance. The ringleader swung his sword and brought it down on the novice’s shoulder. But the sword bent double and edge struck edge. Thinking to himself, “I did not deliver the blow properly,” the thief straightened the sword and delivered another blow. This time the sword split from hilt to tip like a palm-leaf. (No one could have killed the novice at that time, even by piling Mount Sineru on top of him; much less with a sword.)

When the ringleader of the thieves saw the miracle, he thought to himself, “Formerly my sword cut a stone pillar or an acacia stump as easily as the sprout of a plant. But just now it has once bent and once split like a palm-leaf. This sword, though it be insensible metal, knows the virtue of this youth; but I, who possess the gift of reason, know it not.” So saying, he flung his sword upon the ground, prostrated himself on his breast before the feet of the novice, and said, “Reverend Sir, we are in this forest for the sake of booty. Men, even when there are a thousand of them, seeing us afar off, tremble, [250] and when there are only two or three of them, cannot utter a word. But you show not so much as a tremor, and your face is bright as gold in a crucible, or a kanikara in full bloom. What is the reason?” And repeating the question, he pronounced the following Stanza,

You tremble not, nor fear; nay more, your appearance is tranquil;

Why weep you not at such a horror?

The novice, rising from trance, preached the Law to the thief, saying, “Brother chief, he that has rid himself of the Depravities regards his existence as a burden set on his head, which, when it is destroyed, brings joy, not fear,” and uttered the following Stanzas,

Chief, he that is free from desire has no mental suffering;

Seer, he that has rid himself of attachment has passed beyond all fear.

If the Eye of Existence is destroyed as it should be in this life,

Death is without terrors and is like the putting down of a burden.

The ringleader of the thieves listened to the words of the novice, looked at the five hundred thieves, and said, “What do you intend to do?” “But you, master?” “So wonderful was the miracle I beheld just now that I have no more use for the life of a householder. I intend to become a monk under the novice.” “We will do the same thing too.” “Well said, friends.” Then the five hundred bowed to the novice and asked to be admitted to the Order. [251] With the blades of their swords and arrows he cut off their hair and the skirts of their garments, and dyeing their garments in reddish-yellow earth, he caused them to put on yellow robes. Having so done, he established them in the Ten Precepts, and taking them with him, set out. He thought to himself, “If I go without seeing the Elders, they will not be able to perform their meditations; for doubtless, ever since I was captured by the thieves and went away with them, not one of them has been able to restrain his tears. With the thought in their minds, ‘Our novice has been killed,’ they will not be able to keep the Formula of Meditation before their minds. So I will see them before I go.”

So with a retinue of five hundred monks he went to their place of residence. When they saw him, they were relieved in mind and said, “Good Saṁkicca, did they spare your life?” “Yes, Reverend Sirs. They sought to kill me, but were unable to do so, and believing in my virtues, they hearkened to the Law and retired from the world. I have come to see you before I depart. Perform your meditations with heedfulness. I am going to see the Teacher.” So saying, he bowed to those monks, and taking his own monks with him, went to his preceptor. “Saṁkicca, you have obtained pupils?” “Yes, Reverend Sir,” replied the novice and told him what had happened. The Elder said to him, “Saṁkicca, go see the Teacher.” “Very well,” said the novice. Bowing to the Elder, he took his monks with him and went to the Teacher. [252]

The Teacher said to him, “Saṁkicca, you have obtained pupils?” Saṁkicca told him what had happened. The Teacher asked the monks, “Monks, is his story true?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” Said the Teacher, “Monks, it were better for you to live but a single day, standing fast in virtue as you do now, than to live for a hundred years, confirmed in viciousness, committing acts of plunder.” And joining the connection, he instructed them in the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza,

110. Though one should live a hundred years, corrupt, not meditating,

Yet were it better to live a single day in the practice of virtue, in meditation.

After a time Saṁkicca made his full profession. When he had been a monk for ten years, he received his sister’s son as a novice, and the novice’s name was Atimuttaka. When the novice reached the proper age, the Elder sent him home, saying, “We are ready to profess you; go home to your parents and find out your exact age.” The novice set out for home to see his mother and father. [253]

On his way home he was captured by five hundred thieves, who threatened to kill him for the purpose of making an offering. But he converted them by preaching the Law to them, and they released him on condition that he should tell no one of their existence. Shortly afterwards he saw his mother and father coming along the road from the opposite direction, and although they were going straight towards the thieves, he kept his word to the thieves and did not tell them. His parents suffered rough treatment at the hands of the thieves. And they wept and said to him, “You also were in league with the thieves, no doubt, and for that reason refrained from telling us.” The thieves heard their reproaches and lamentations, and perceiving that the youth had kept his word and had refrained from telling his mother and father, believed in their hearts, and requested to be received into the Order. Like the novice Saṁkicca, he received them all into the Order and conducted them to his preceptor. His preceptor sent him to the Teacher, to whom he went and told what had happened. The Teacher asked the monks, “Monks, is his story true?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” Then the Teacher joined the connection as before, and instructing them in the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

110. Though one should live a hundred years, corrupt, not meditating.

Yet were it better to live a single day in the practice of virtue, in meditation.