Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

BOOK XVII.

ANGER

KODHA VAGGA

XVII. 1. HOW ANGER MARRED A MAIDEN’S LOOKS

One should put away anger. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Banyan Grove with reference to the Khattiya maiden Rohiṇī. [295]

1 a. The maiden with blotches on her face

The story goes that once upon a time Venerable Anuruddha went with his retinue of five hundred monks to Kapilavatthu. When the Elder’s kinsfolk heard that he had arrived, all except the Elder’s sister, a maiden named Rohiṇī, went to the monastery where the Elder was in residence and paid their respects to him. The Elder asked his kinsfolk, “Where is Rohiṇī?” “At home, Reverend Sir.” “Why did she not come here?” “Reverend Sir, she is suffering from an eruption of the skin, and on this account was ashamed to come.” The Elder caused her to be summoned, saying, “Summon her immediately.” Rohiṇī fastened a covering of cloth about her face and went to the Elder.

When she came into his presence, the Elder asked her, “Rohiṇī, why did you not come here before?” “Reverend Sir, I am suffering from an eruption of the skin, and on this account I was ashamed to come.” “But ought you not to perform works of merit?” “What can I do, Reverend Sir?” “Cause an assembly-hall to be erected.” [296] “What funds have I to use for this purpose?” “Have you not a set of jewels?” “Yes, Reverend Sir, I have.” “How much did it cost?” “It must have cost ten thousand pieces of money.” “Well then, spend this in building an assembly-hall.” “Who will build it for me, Reverend Sir?” The Elder looked at her kinsfolk who stood near and said, “This shall be your duty.” “But, Reverend Sir, what will you do?” “I shall stay right here; therefore bring her the building materials.” “Very well, Reverend Sir,” said they, and brought them.

The Elder superintended the arrangements for the erection of the

1 Text: N iii. 295-299.

assembly-hall. Said he to Rohiṇī, “Cause an assembly-hall two stories in height to be erected and as soon as the planks are put in place above, you take your stand below, sweep constantly, prepare seats, and keep the water-vessels filled with water.” “Very well, Reverend Sir,” replied Rohiṇī. So she spent her set of jewels in the erection of an assembly-hall two stories in height. As soon as the planks were put in place above, she took her stand below, swept, and performed the other duties, and monks sat therein constantly. Even as she swept the assembly-hall, the eruption subsided.

When the assembly-hall was completed, she invited the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha; and when the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha had taken their seats, filling the assembly-hall, she offered them choice food, both hard and soft. When the Teacher finished his meal, he asked, “Whose is this offering?” “Your sister Rohiṇī’s, Reverend Sir.” “But where is she?” “In the house, Reverend Sir.” “Summon her.” She was unwilling to go. But in spite of her unwillingness, the Teacher caused her to be summoned all the same. When she had come [297] and saluted him and taken her seat, the Teacher said to her, “Rohiṇī, why did you not come before?” “Reverend Sir, I was suffering from an eruption of the skin and was ashamed to come.” “But do you know the reason why this eruption of the skin broke out on your body?” “No, Reverend Sir, I do not.” “It was because of anger that this eruption of the skin broke out on your body.” “Why, Reverend Sir, what did I do?” “Well then, listen,” said the Teacher. So saying, he told her the following

1 b. Story of the Past: The jealous queen and the nautch-girl

In times long past, the chief consort of the king of Benāres took a dislike to one of the king’s nautch-girls and said to herself, “I will make her suffer.” So she procured a number of large ripe scabs, reduced them to powder, and summoning that nautch-girl to her, contrived secretly to place the powdered scabs in her bed and cloak and her goats’ hair coverlet. Then, as if in fun, she sprinkled some of the powder on her body. Immediately the girl’s body became covered with pimples and boils so as to have a horridly angry look, and she went about scratching herself. When she lay down on her bed, there too the powdered scabs ate her up, and she suffered yet harsher pain. The chief consort at that time was Rohiṇī. End of Story of the Past.

When the Teacher had related this Story of the Past, he said, “Rohiṇī, that was the evil deed which you committed at that time. Anger or jealousy, however slight, is always unbecoming.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

221. One should put away anger; one should utterly renounce pride; one should overcome every attachment.

He who clings not to Name and Form, and is free from attachment, is not beset with pain. [298]

At the conclusion of the lesson many obtained the Fruit of Conversion and the Fruits of the Second and Third Paths. Rohiṇī also was established in the Fruit of Conversion, and at that moment her body took on a golden hue.

1 c. Sequel: The celestial nymph

Rohiṇī passed from that state of existence and was reborn in the Abode of the Thirty-three at the meeting-point of the boundaries of four deities. Fair to look upon was she, and possessed of the perfection of beauty. When the four deities looked upon her, desire arose within them, and they began to quarrel over her, saying, “She was reborn within my boundary, she was reborn within my boundary.” Finally they went to Sakka king of gods and said to him, “Sire, a dispute has arisen among us over this nymph; decide the dispute for us.” When Sakka looked at the nymph, desire arose within him also. Said he, “What manner of thoughts have arisen within you since you saw this nymph?” The first deity said, “As for me, the thoughts which have arisen within me have no more been able to subside than a battle-drum.” The second said, “My thoughts have run wild like a mountain torrent.” [299] The third said, “From the time I first saw this nymph, my eyes have popped out like the eyes of a crab.” The fourth said, “My thoughts have no more been able to stand still than a banner raised on a shrine.” Then Sakka said to them, “Friends, as for you, your thoughts are on fire. For my part, if I can have this nymph, I can live, but if I cannot have her, I shall surely die.” The deities replied, “Great king, there is no need of your dying.” So saying, they yielded the nymph to Sakka and went their way. She was Sakka’s darling and delight. If she ever said, “Let us go engage in such and such sport,” he could not refuse her.

XVII. 2. THE TREE-SPIRIT AND THE MONK

Whoever controls his anger when it is aroused. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Aggalava Shrine with reference to a certain monk.

For after the Teacher had given permission to the Congregation of Monks to lodge without the walls of the monastery, and while the treasurer of Rājagaha and others were busy providing such lodgings, a certain monk of Alavi decided to build himself a lodging, and seeing a tree which suited him, [300] began to cut it down. Thereupon a certain spirit who had been reborn in that tree, and who had an infant child, appeared before the monk, carrying her child on her hip, and begged him not to cut down the trees, saying, “Master, do not cut down my home; it will be impossible for me to take my child and wander about without a home.” But the monk said, “I shall not be able to find another tree like this,” and paid no further attention to what she said.

The tree-spirit thought to herself, “If he but look upon this child, he will desist,” and placed the child on a branch of the tree. The monk, however, had already swung his axe, was unable to check the force of his upraised axe, and cut off the arm of the child. Furious with anger, the tree-spirit raised both her hands and exclaimed, “I will strike him dead.” In an instant, however, the thought came to her, “This monk is a righteous man; if I kill him, I shall go to Hell. Moreover, if other tree-spirits see monks cutting down their own trees, they will say to themselves, ‘Such and such a tree-spirit killed a monk under such circumstances,’ and will follow my example and kill other monks. Besides, this monk has a master; I will therefore content myself with reporting this matter to his master.”

Lowering her upraised hands, she went weeping to the Teacher, and having saluted him, stood on one side. Said the Teacher, “What is the matter, tree-spirit?” The tree-spirit replied, “Reverend Sir, your disciple did this and that to me. I was sorely tempted to kill him, but I thought this and that, refrained from killing him, and came here.” So saying, she told him the story in all its details. When the Teacher heard her story, [301] he said to her, “Well done, well done,

1 This story is derived from the Vinaya, Pdcittiya, xi. 1: iv. 34. Text: N iii. 299-302.

spirit! you have done well in holding in, like a swift-speeding chariot, your anger when it was thus aroused.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

222. Whoever controls his anger like a swift-speeding chariot,when it is aroused, —

Him I call a charioteer; other folk are merely holders of reins.

At the conclusion of the lesson the tree-spirit was established in the Fruit of Conversion; the assembled company also profited by it.

But even after the tree-spirit had obtained the Fruit of Conversion, she stood weeping. The Teacher asked her, “What is the matter, tree-spirit?” “Reverend Sir,” she replied, “my home has been destroyed; what am I to do now? Said the Teacher, “Enough, tree-spirit; be not disturbed; I will give you a place of abode.” With these words he pointed out near the Perfumed Chamber at Jetavana a certain tree from which a tree-spirit had departed on the preceding day and said, “In such and such a place is a tree which stands by itself; enter therein.” Accordingly the tree-spirit entered into that tree. Thenceforth, because the tree-spirit had received her place of abode as a gift from the Buddha, although spirits of great power [302] approached that tree, they were unable to shake it. The Teacher took this occasion to lay down and enjoin upon the monks the observance of the precept regarding the injuring of plants and trees.

XVII. 3. THE POOR MAN AND HIS DAUGHTERS

One should overcome anger with kindness. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana, after he had eaten a meal at the house of Uttarā, with reference to the female lay disciple Uttarā. The story in due sequence is as follows:

3 a. Puṇṇa acquires merit

The story goes that there was a poor man in Rājagaha named Puṇṇa, who made a living by working for hire for the treasurer Sumana. Puṇṇa had a wife, and a daughter named Uttarā, both of whom were servants in the treasurer’s household. Now one day they made a proclamation in Rājagaha, “For seven days let everyone make holiday

1 From this story is derived Vimāna-Vatthu Commentary, i. 15: 62-69. Vv. cm. 632_6926 is almost word for word the same as Dh. cm. iii. SOa-o -313-2. Cf. Anguttara Commentary on Etadagga Vagga, Story of Uttarā. This story is referred to at MUin-dapanha, 115”, 291»-”. For the story of Sirimā’s death, see Story xi. 2. Text: N iii. 302-314.

in Rājagaha.” The treasurer Sumana heard this proclamation; and when Puṇṇa came to him early the following morning, he addressed him, saying, “My man, our servants want to make holiday; will you make holiday, or will you work for hire?” Puṇṇa replied, “Master, a holiday is for the rich; I have not even enough rice in my house for to-morrow’s porridge; what business have I making holiday? I will take my oxen and go plow.” “Very well, take your oxen and go plow.” So Puṇṇa took a strong pair of oxen and a plow and went home and said to his wife, “My dear wife, the citizens are making holiday, but I am so poor that I shall be obliged to work for hire; to-day when you bring me my meal, just cook me twice my usual allowance of rice.” [303] So saying, he went to the field.

On that very day the Elder Sāriputta arose from a Trance of Cessation which had lasted seven days, and considered within himself, “On whom shall I bestow my blessing to-day?” Perceiving that Puṇṇa had entered the Net of his Knowledge, he considered further, “Has he faith and will he be able to entertain me?” Perceiving that Puṇṇa had faith, that he would be able to entertain him, and that he would thereby obtain a rich reward, the Elder took bowl and robe, went to the field where Puṇṇa was plowing, took his stand on the bank of a pit, and gazed earnestly at a certain bush. When Puṇṇa saw the Elder, he left his plow, saluted the Elder with the Five Rests, and said to him, “You must have need of a tooth-stick.” And preparing a tooth-stick for the Elder, he gave it to him. Thereupon the Elder drew from under the folds of his robe his bowl and water-strainer and gave them to Puṇṇa. “He must wish some water,” thought Puṇṇa. So taking the water-strainer, he strained water and gave it to the Elder. Thought the Elder, “This man lives in the last house of all. If I go to the door of his house, his wife will not be able to see me; therefore I will wait right here until she sets out on the road with his meal.” So the Elder waited right there a little while, and when he perceived that she had set out on the road, he started off in the direction of the city.

The poor man’s wife saw the Elder on the road and thought to herself, “Once when I had alms to give, [304] I did not see the Elder; and once again when I saw the Elder, I had not alms to give. To-day, however, I not only see the Elder, but also have alms to give. Will he give me his blessing?” Thereupon she set down the jar of rice, saluted the Elder with the Five Rests, and said to him, “Reverend Sir, consider not whether this is coarse food or fine food, but bestow a blessing on your servant.” The Elder held out his bowl. The woman held the jar with one hand and with the other hand took the boiled rice out of the jar and gave it to the Elder. When she had given him half of the rice, the Elder said, “Enough!” So saying, he covered the bowl with his hand. Said the woman, “Reverend Sir, one portion cannot be divided into two parts. Bestow not a blessing on your servant in this present life, but bestow a blessing upon her in the life to come. I desire to give you all without reserve.” So saying, she emptied all of the rice in the Elder’s bowl and made the following Earnest Wish, “May I be a partaker of the Law you have yourself beheld.” “So be it,” said the Elder. Remaining standing, he pronounced the words of thanksgiving. Then seating himself in a pleasant place where there was water, he ate his meal. The woman turned back, sought fresh rice, and boiled it.

Puṇṇa plowed half a karīsa of land, and then, unable longer to endure hunger, he unyoked his oxen and went and sat down in the shade of a certain tree, watching the road. As his wife came along with her husband’s meal of boiled rice, she saw him, and thought to herself, “There is my husband, overcome with hunger, sitting beside the road, watching for me. If [305] he upbraids me, saying, ‘You have tarried too long,’ and strikes me with the handle of his whip, that which I have done will go for naught; I will therefore speak first.” So she said to him, “Husband, have patience to-day for once, and do not bring to naught that which I have done. Early in the morning I set out to bring you your rice; but on the way, seeing the Captain of the Faith, I gave him your rice. Having so done, I went back home and boiled more rice; now I have returned. Husband, be well content.” “What say you, wife?” asked Puṇṇa. On hearing her explanation repeated the second time, he said to her, “Wife, you did well to give my rice to the noble Elder. I also gave him a toothstick and water for rinsing the mouth early this very morning.” With contented heart, rejoicing at the words he had heard, weak because he had not eaten since sunrise, he laid his head on her lap and fell asleep.

Now the piece he had plowed early in the morning, with its well-broken-up soil, all turned to ruddy gold, and was bright as a heap of Kanikara flowers. Puṇṇa woke up, looked at the piece, and said to his wife, “My dear wife, this piece which I plowed looks to me as if it had turned to gold. Are my eyes deceiving me just because I have had nothing to eat since early sunrise?” “Husband, to me too it looks just the same way.” Puṇṇa arose, went to the field, and taking a lump of earth in his hand, he struck the handle of the plow with it, whereupon he perceived that it was solid gold. [306] “Oh,” he exclaimed, “this very day is manifested the fruit of the alms given to the noble Captain of the Faith! But it will be impossible for us to conceal so much wealth and to make use of it ourselves.” So he filled with gold the dinner-basket his wife had brought, and going to the royal palace, as soon as the king was ready to receive him, he entered and paid obeisance to the king.

“What is it, my man?” asked the king. “Your majesty,” replied Puṇṇa, “to-day all the ground I have plowed stands covered with gold. Should not orders be given to haul it to the palace?” “Who are you?” “Puṇṇa is my name.” “But what did you do to-day?” “Early in the morning I gave the Captain of the Faith a toothstick and water for rinsing the mouth; likewise my wife gave him the boiled rice which she was bringing to me.” When the king heard this he exclaimed, “This very day is manifested the fruit of the alms which you gave to the Captain of the Faith. Friend, what shall I do?” “Send several thousand carts and have the gold hauled to the palace.” The king sent the carts.

As the king’s men gathered up the gold, they said, “This is the property of the king.” Thereupon every particle of gold they took into their hands turned to earth once more. They went and reported the matter to the king. The king asked them, “What did you say when you gathered up the gold?” “Your majesty,” replied the men, “we said that the gold was your property.” “My men,” replied the king, “who am I?” Go [307] and say, ‘This is the property of Puṇṇa.’ Then gather up the gold.” The king’s men did as they were told. Immediately every particle they took into their hands turned to gold once more. They hauled all of this gold to the palace-court and heaped it up in a pile; the pile was eighty cubits high.

The king ordered the citizens to assemble and asked them, “Is there anyone in this city who possesses so much gold as this?” “No, your majesty, there is not.” “What should be given to him?” “The treasurer’s parasol, your majesty.” Said the king, “Let his name be Treasurer Great-Wealth, Treasurer Bahudhana.” So the king gave him the treasurer’s parasol and bestowed all this great wealth upon him.

Then said Puṇṇa to the king, “Your majesty, all this time we have lived in other people’s houses; give us a place to live in.” The king pointed to the site of the former treasurer’s house and said, “Well, look,— you notice a thicket growing over there. Have that thicket cleared and a house built for yourself there.” In a few days Puṇṇa built him a house in this place. When the house was finished, he gave a festival in honor of the opening of the house and a festival in honor of the raising of the parasol simultaneously; and for the space of seven days he gave alms to the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha. In pronouncing the words of thanksgiving, the Teacher preached the Law in orderly sequence. At the conclusion of his discourse, the treasurer Puṇṇa and his wife and his daughter Uttarā, all three, obtained the Fruit of Conversion.

After a time the treasurer of Rājagaha selected the daughter of the treasurer Puṇṇa to be the wife of his own son. “I will not give her,” said Puṇṇa. Said the treasurer of Rājagaha, “Do not act in this manner. All this time you have dwelt near us, [308] and now you have obtained great wealth and high position. Give your daughter to be the wife of my son.” But Puṇṇa said to himself, “He is a heretic, and my daughter cannot live without the Three Jewels. I will not give him my daughter.” Many noble youths, treasurers and accountants and others who held high office, sought to persuade him to reconsider his decision, saying, “Do not break off friendly relations with him; give him your daughter.” Finally he accepted their advice, and on the day of full moon of the month Asalhi, gave him his daughter.

3 b. Uttarā and Sirimā

From the day Uttarā went to the house of her husband, she was no longer privileged to approach a monk or a nun, or to give alms, or to listen to the Law. When two months and a half had thus passed, she asked the women-servants who waited upon her, “How much of the rainy season still remains?” “Half a month, your ladyship.” So Uttarā sent the following message to her father, “Why have they thrown me into such a prison? It would be far better to put a brand on me and proclaim me a common wench, than to give me over to such an unbelieving household as this. From the day I first entered this house, I have not so much as seen a monk, nor have I had the opportunity to perform a single work of merit.”

When her father received this message, he expressed displeasure, saying, “Oh, how unhappy my daughter is!” And he sent fifteen thousand pieces of money to his daughter, together with the following message, “There is a courtezan in this city named Sirimā, who receives a thousand pieces of money a night. With this money have her brought to your husband’s house and install her as your husband’s mistress. Then you can devote your time to the performance of good works.” [309]

So Uttarā caused Sirimā to be summoned to her house and said to her, “Friend, take this money and minister to your friend during the coming fortnight.” “Very well,” replied Sirimā, consenting to the bargain. So Uttarā took Sirimā to her husband. When Uttarā’s husband saw Sirimā, he asked, “What does this mean?” Uttarā replied, “Husband, during the coming fortnight my friend is to be your mistress. For my part, during the coming fortnight I desire to give alms and listen to the Law.” When Uttarā’s husband saw Sirimā, beautiful woman that she was, desire took possession of him, and he immediately consented to the arrangement, saying, “Very well; so be it.”

Thereupon Uttarā invited the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, saying, “Reverend Sir, during the coming fortnight pray take your meals right here and go nowhere else.” On obtaining the Teacher’s consent, she rejoiced at heart and said to herself, “From this day forth, until the Great Terminal Festival, I shall have the privilege of waiting on the Teacher and listening to the Law.” And she bustled about the kitchen making the necessary arrangements, saying, “Cook the porridge thus; cook the cakes thus.”

“To-morrow will be the Terminal Festival,” thought her husband as he stood at his window looking towards the kitchen. “What is that foolish woman doing?” When he saw her going to and fro arranging for the feast, her body moist with sweat and sprinkled with ashes and smeared with charcoal and soot, he thought to himself, “Ah, in such a place the fool does not enjoy luxury and comfort. ‘I will minister to the shaveling monklings,’ thinks she; and her heart rejoices as she goes about.” He laughed and left the window. 1 [310]

As he left the window, Sirimā who stood near him, thought to herself, “What did he see to make him laugh?” Looking out of the same window, she saw Uttarā. “It was because he saw her that he laughed,” thought Sirimā; “doubtless an intimacy exists between them.” (We are told that although Sirimā had lived in this house

1 For a discussion of the Laugh as a psychic motif, see M. Bloomfield, On Recurring Psychic Motifs in Hindu Fiction, and the Laugh and Cry Motif, JAOS., 36. 79-87.

for a fortnight as a concubine, in the enjoyment of splendor and luxury, she did not realize that she was only a concubine, but imagined that she was the mistress of the house.)

Sirimā immediately conceived hatred towards Uttarā and said to herself, “I’ll make her suffer.” So descending from the palace-terrace, she entered the kitchen; and going to the place where the cakes were being fried, she took some boiling ghee in a spoon and advanced towards Uttarā. Uttarā saw her advancing and said, “My friend has done me a great service. This world may be narrow, and the World of Brahma low; but the goodness of my friend is great indeed, in that through her assistance I have received the privilege of giving alms and listening to the Law. If I cherish anger towards her, may this ghee burn me. If not, may it not burn me.” 1 So saying, she suffused her enemy with the sentiment of love. When Sirimā flung the boiling ghee on her head, it felt like cold water. “The next spoonful will feel cool,” said Sirimā. [311] And filling the spoon again, she advanced towards Uttarā with the second spoonful of boiling ghee in her hand.

When Uttarā’s serving-women saw her, they tried to frighten her away, crying out, “Begone, miscreant! What right have you to fling boiling ghee on the head of our mistress!” And springing to their feet in every part of the kitchen, they beat her with their fists and kicked her with their feet and flung her to the ground. Uttarā, although she strove to stop them, was unable to do so. Finally she stood over Sirimā, pushed all of her serving-women away, and admonished Sirimā, saying, “Why did you do so wicked a deed?” So saying, she bathed her with hot water and anointed her with oil a hundred times refined.

At that moment Sirimā realized that she was but a concubine. And straightway she thought to herself, “It was indeed a most wicked deed I committed when I flung boiling ghee on the head of this woman, merely because my master laughed at her. As for this woman, instead of ordering her serving-women to seize me, she pushed them all away when they strove to belabor me, and then did for me all that could possibly be done. If I do not ask her to pardon me, my head is likely to split into seven pieces.” And forthwith Sirimā fell at the feet of Uttarā and said to her, “Pardon me, my lady.”

1 For a discussion of this charm, see my paper. The Act of Truth (Saccakiriya); a Hindu Spell and its Employment as a Psychic Motif in Hindu Fiction, JRAS., 1917, 429-467. For other occurrences of the charm, see Stories i. 3 a,vi. 4 6, and xiii. 6.

Uttarā replied, “I am a daughter and my father is living. If my father pardons you, I will also pardon you.” “Very well, my lady, I will also ask pardon of your father [312] the treasurer Puṇṇa.” “Puṇṇa is my father in the round of birth and rebirth. If my father in that state where there is no round of birth and rebirth will pardon you, then will I also pardon you.” “But who is your father in that state where there is no round of birth and rebirth?” “The Buddha, the Supremely Enlightened.” “I put no confidence in him.” “I will cause you to do so. To-morrow the Teacher will come here with his retinue of monks; obtain such offerings as you can and come right here and ask his pardon.”

“Very well, my lady,” replied Sirimā. And rising from her seat, she went home and gave orders to the five hundred women of her retinue to put themselves in readiness to accompany her. Then she procured various kinds of hard foods and sauces, and on the following day, taking these offerings with her, she went to Uttarā’s house. Not daring to place her offerings in the bowls of the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, she stood waiting. Uttarā took all of her offerings and made the proper disposal of them, and at the conclusion of the meal Sirimā together with her retinue prostrated herself at the Teacher’s feet. Thereupon the Teacher asked her, “What sin have you committed?” “Reverend Sir, yesterday I did this and that. But my friend only made her serving-women stop beating me and could not do enough to befriend me. Recognizing her goodness, I asked her to pardon me. But she said to me, ‘If the Teacher will pardon you, I also will pardon you.’” “Uttarā, is this true?” “Yes, Reverend Sir. My friend flung boiling ghee on my head.” “What thoughts did you then entertain?” [313] “Reverend Sir, I suffused her with love, thinking to myself, ‘This world may be narrow, and the World of Brahma low; but the goodness of my friend is great indeed, in that through her assistance I have received the privilege of giving alms and listening to the Law. If I cherish anger towards her, may this ghee burn me. If not, may it not burn me.’” Said the Teacher, “Well done, well done, Uttarā! That is the right way to overcome anger. Anger should be overcome with kindness. He that utters abuse and slander may be overcome by him who refrains from uttering abuse and slander. An obstinate miser may be overcome by the giving of one’s own. A speaker of lies may be overcome by speaking the truth.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

223. One should overcome anger with kindness;

One should overcome evil with good;

One should overcome the niggard with gifts.

And the speaker of falsehood with truth.

XVII. 4. DO TRIFLING ACTS OF MERIT LEAD TO HEAVEN?1

A man should speak the truth. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Elder Moggallāna the Great. [314]

For once upon a time the Elder made a journey to heaven, and saw a spirit possessed of great power standing at the door of his mansion. The spirit straightway approached the Elder, saluted him, and took his stand before him. Thereupon the Elder said to him, “Spirit, you possess great glory; what did you do to get it?” “Oh, Reverend Sir, do not ask me.” (We are told that the spirit had performed but a trifling work of merit, and that he spoke thus because he was ashamed to mention it.) The Elder repeated his question, saying, “Please tell me.” Finally the spirit said, “Reverend Sir, I neither gave alms nor rendered honor nor listened to the Law; all that I did was to tell the truth.”

The Elder [315] stopped at the doors of other mansions also, and put the same question to one after another of the female spirits who approached him. They likewise strove to conceal the works of merit which they had performed, but likewise failed to put off the Elder. One of them said, “Reverend Sir, as for almsgiving and the other duties of religion, I did nothing. But in the dispensation of the Buddha Kassapa, I was the slave of a certain man who was excessively harsh and cruel. He thought nothing of seizing a stick or a staff and striking off a person’s head. But when angry thoughts arose within me, I would rebuke myself, saying, ‘He is your master and has power to make public proclamation concerning you, or to cut off your nose or other members; therefore be not angry.’ Thus would I rebuke myself and restrain my angry thoughts; by so doing, I attained this glory. Another said, “Reverend Sir, while I was guarding a field of sugar-cane, I gave a stalk of sugar-cane to a certain

1 Cf. Dhammapala’s Introduction to the Vimāna-Vattku Commentary, pp. 2-4. Text: N iii. 314-317.

monk.” Another said, “I gave a timbarusaka.” Another said, “I gave an elaluka.” Another said, “I gave a [316] pharusaka.” Another said, “I gave a handful of radishes.” Another said, “I gave a handful of nimb-fruit.” In such terms did each mention the slight gift which each had made. All concluded as follows, “By these means did we obtain this glory.”

After listening to the recital of their former deeds of merit, the Elder approached the Teacher and asked him, “Reverend Sir, is it possible to obtain heavenly glory merely by telling the truth or restraining one’s angry thoughts or giving a timbarusaka and the like?” “Moggallāna, why do you ask me? Did not the female spirits explain the whole matter to you?” “Yes, Reverend Sir, I am convinced that by such slight acts as these heavenly glory may be gained.” Then the Teacher said to him, “Moggallāna, merely by telling the truth, merely by putting away anger, merely by giving a slight gift, men may attain the heavenly world.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

224. A man should speak the truth, a man should not get angry,

A man should give, when asked to give a little;

By these three acts a man may attain the World of the Gods.

XVII. 5. A BRAHMAN GREETS THE BUDDHA AS HIS SON

They who do no injury. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Anjanavana near Saketa with reference to a question asked by the monks. [317]

The story goes that once upon a time, as the Exalted One, accompanied by the Congregation of Monks, was entering Saketa for alms, a certain old Brahman who lived in Saketa passed out of the city, and seeing the Possessor of the Ten Forces entering within the gate, fell down before his feet, and grasping him firmly by the ankles, said to him, “Dear son, is it not the duty of sons to care for their mother and father when they have grown old? Why is it that for so long a time you have not shown yourself to us? This is the first time I have seen you. Come look upon your mother.” And taking the Teacher

1 This story is almost word for word the same as Jdtaka 68: i. 308-310. Cf. AhguUara Commentary on Etadagga Vagga, Story of Nakidapita. It is referred to at Milindapanha, 350»--». Text: N iii. 317-321.

with him, he escorted him into his house. When the Teacher had entered the house, he sat down on the seat prepared for him, together with the Congregation of Monks.

The Brahman’s wife also approached the Teacher, [318] and falling before his feet, said, “Dear son, where have you been all this time? Ought not mothers and fathers to be cared for when they have grown old?” And she directed her sons and daughters to salute the Teacher, saying, “Go salute your brother.” Delighted at heart, the Brahman and his wife offered food to the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, saying, “Reverend Sir, take all of your meals right here.” The Teacher replied, “The Buddhas never take their meals regularly in the same place.” Then said the Brahman and his wife, “Well then, Reverend Sir, be good enough to send to us all those who come to you and invite you to be their guest.”

From that time forward, the Teacher sent to the Brahman and his wife all those who came to him with an invitation to be their guest, saying, “Go tell the Brahman.” Such persons would then go and say to the Brahman, “We would invite the Teacher for to-morrow;” and the Brahman on the following day would take from his own house jars of boiled rice and jars of curries, and go to the place where the Teacher sat. In case the Teacher was invited nowhere else, he always took his meal in the house of the Brahman. Both the Brahman and his wife gave alms regularly to the Tathāgata, listened to the Law, and in the course of time obtained the Fruit of the Third Path.

The monks began a discussion in the Hall of Truth: “Brethren, the Brahman knows perfectly well that the Tathāgata’s father is Suddhodana and that his mother is Mahāmāyā. But although he knows this, both he and his wife address the Tathāgata as ‘our son,’ [319] and the Teacher acquiesces in this form of address; pray what can be the explanation of this?” The Teacher overheard their talk and said, “Monks, both the Brahman and his wife are addressing their own son when they say to me, ‘Our son.’” Having said this, he related the following Story of the Past:

Monks, in times past this Brahman was my father for five hundred successive existences, my uncle for five hundred existences, and my grandfather for five hundred existences; likewise the Brahman’s wife was my mother for five hundred existences, my aunt for five hundred existences, and my grandmother for five hundred existences. Thus I was brought up by this Brahman during fifteen hundred states of existence, and by the wife of this Brahman during fifteen hundred states of existence. Having thus explained that he had been their son during three thousand states of existence, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

If the mind rests satisfied, and the heart reposes confidence in a man.

One may repose confidence in that man, though it be the first time one has seen him.

Through previous association or present advantage,

That old love springs up again like the lotus in the water.

For the entire period of three months during which the Teacher kept residence, he resorted only to that family for his meals, and at the end of the three months they experienced Arahatship and passed into Nibbāna. Men rendered high honors to their bodies, placed both bodies on one hearse, and carried them out. The Teacher, surrounded by a retinue of five hundred monks, accompanied the bodies to the burning-ground. Hearing the report, “They were the mother and father of the Buddhas,” a great multitude went forth from the city. The Teacher entered a certain hall near the burning-ground and remained therein. Men saluted the Teacher, saying to him, “Reverend Sir, do not [320] grieve because your mother and father are dead,” and held sweet converse with him. Instead of repulsing them by saying, “Speak not thus,” the Teacher surveyed the thoughts of the company and preaching the Law with reference to that particular occasion, recited the Jara Sutta, 1 as follows,

Short indeed is this life; even before a hundred years have passed, one dies;

If one lives longer, then he dies of old age.

The monks, not knowing that the Brahman and his wife had passed into Nibbāna, asked the Teacher, “Reverend Sir, what will be their future state?” The Teacher replied, “Monks, in the case of such as they, Arahats and sages, there is no future state. Such as they attain the Eternal, the Deathless, Great Nibbāna. So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

225. They who do no injury, the sages, they who ever control their bodies.

Such go to a place from which they pass no more; and having gone there, sorrow not.

1 Sutta Nipata, iv. 6 (Stanzas 804-813).

XVII. 6. IT IS THE GIVER THAT MAKES THE GIFT

They that are ever watchful. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence on Mount Vulture Peak with reference to Puṇṇā, a female slave of the treasurer of Rājagaha. [321]

The story goes that one day they gave her much rice to pound. She pounded away until late at night, lighting a lamp to work by; finally she became very weary and in order to rest herself, stepped outside and stood in the wind with her body moist with sweat. Now at that time Dabba the Malla was steward of lodgings for the monks. [322] Having listened to the Law, that he might show the monks the way to their respective lodgings, he lighted his finger, and preceding the monks, created by supernatural power a light for them.

The light enabled Puṇṇā to see the monks making their way along the mountain. She thought to herself, “As for me, I am oppressed by my own discomfort, and so, even at this time, am unable to sleep. Why is it that the reverend monks are unable to sleep?” Having considered the matter, she came to the following conclusion, “It must be that some monk who resides there is sick, or else is suffering from the bite of some reptile.” So when it was dawn, she took some rice-dust, placed it in the palm of her hand, moistened it with water, and having thus mixed a cake, cooked it over a bed of charcoal. Then, saying to herself, “I will eat it on the road leading to the bathing-place on the river,” she placed the cake in a fold of her dress, and taking a water-pot in her hand, set out for the bathing-place on the river.

The Teacher set out on the same path, intending likewise to enter that village for alms. When Puṇṇā saw the Teacher, she thought to herself, “On other days when I have seen the Teacher, I have had no alms to give him, or if I have had alms to give him, I have not seen him; to-day, however, not only do I meet the Teacher face to face, but I have alms to give him. If he would accept this cake without considering whether the food is of inferior or superior quality, I would give it to him.” So setting her water-pot down on one side, she saluted the Teacher [323] and said to him, “Reverend Sir, accept this coarse food and bestow your blessing upon me.”

The Teacher looked at Elder Ānanda, whereupon the Elder drew from under a fold of his robe and presented to the Teacher a bowl

1 Cf. Jdtaka 254: ii. 286-291. This story is referred to at MUindapanha, 115”. Text: N iii. 321-325.

which was an offering to the Teacher from a great king. The Teacher held out the bowl and received therein the offering of the cake. When Puṇṇā had placed the cake in the Teacher’s bowl, she saluted him with the Five Rests and said to him, “Reverend Sir, may the Truth which you have beheld be of avail to me also.” The Teacher replied, “So be it.” And remaining standing as before, he pronounced the words of thanksgiving. Thereupon Puṇṇā thought to herself, “Although the Teacher bestowed on me a blessing as he took my cake, yet he will not eat it himself. He will doubtless keep it until he has gone a little way and will then give it to a crow or a dog. Then he will go to the house of some king or prince and make a meal of choice food.”

Thought the Teacher to himself, “What was the thought in the mind of this woman?” Perceiving what was in her mind, the Teacher looked at Elder Ānanda and intimated that he wished to sit down. The Elder spread out a robe and offered the Teacher a seat. The Teacher sat down without the city and ate his breakfast. The deities squeezed out nectar, food proper to gods and men alike throughout the circle of the worlds, even as one squeezes a honeycomb, and imparted it to the Teacher’s food. Puṇṇā stood looking on. At the conclusion of the Teacher’s breakfast the Elder gave him water. When the Teacher had finished his breakfast, he addressed Puṇṇā and said, “Puṇṇā, why [324] have you blamed my disciples?” “I do not blame your disciples, Reverend Sir.” “Then what did you say when you saw my disciples?”

“Reverend Sir, the explanation is very simple. I thought to myself, ‘As for me, I am oppressed by my own discomfort, and so am unable to sleep; why is it that the reverend monks are unable to sleep? It must be that some monk who resides there is sick, or else is suffering from the bite of some reptile.’” The Teacher listened to her words and then said to her, “Puṇṇā, in your own case it is because you are afflicted with discomfort that you are unable to sleep. But my disciples are assiduously watchful and therefore sleep not.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

226. They that are ever watchful, they that study both by day and by night,

They that strive after Nibbāna, such men rid themselves of the evil passions.

At the conclusion of the lesson Puṇṇā, even as she stood there, was established in the Fruit of Conversion; the assembled company also profited by the lesson.

The Teacher, having made a meal of the cake which Puṇṇā made of rice-flour and cooked over a bed of coals, returned to the monastery. Thereupon the monks began a discussion in the Hall of Truth: [325]

“Brethren, how hard it must have been for the Supremely Enlightened One to make his breakfast of the cake of rice-flour which Puṇṇā cooked over a bed of coals and gave him!” At that moment the Teacher drew near and asked them, “Monks, what are you discussing now as you sit here all gathered together?” When they told him, he said, “Monks, this is not the first time I have eaten red-rice-powder which she gave me; the same thing happened to me in a previous state of existence also.” So saying, he recited the following Stanzas,

You used to eat leavings of grass, you used to eat scum of red-rice-gruel;

Such was your food in days gone by; why do you not eat your food to-day?

Where they know not a body by birth or training.

There, Great Brahma, the scum of red-rice-gruel will suffice.

But you know full well that I am a horse of noblest breed;

I know my breed; it is because of my breed that I will not eat your red-rice-gruel.

And the Teacher related this Kundakasindhavapotaka Jātaka in detail. 1

XVII. 7. NOTHING, TOO MUCH, AND TOO LITTLE

This is an old saying. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the lay disciple Atula.

For Atula was a lay disciple who lived at Sāvatthi, and he had a retinue of five hundred other lay disciples. [326] One day he took those lay disciples with him to the monastery to hear the Law. Desiring to hear Elder Revata preach the Law, he saluted Elder Revata and sat down respectfully on one side. Now this Venerable Elder Revata was a solitary recluse, delighting in solitude even as a lion delights in solitude, wherefore he had nothing to say to Atula.

“This Elder has nothing to say,” thought Atula. Provoked, he arose from his seat, went to Elder Sāriputta, and took his stand respectfully on one side. “For what reason have you come to me?” asked Elder Sāriputta. “Reverend Sir,” replied Atula, “I took these

1 Jātaka 254: ii. 287-291. - Text: N iii. 325-329.

lay disciples of mine to hear the Law and approached Elder Revata. But he had nothing to say to me; therefore I was provoked at him and have come here. Preach the Law to me.” “Well then, lay disciple,” said the Elder Sāriputta, “sit down.” And forthwith Elder Sāriputta expounded the Abhidhamma at great length. 1

Thought the lay disciple, “Abhidhamma is exceedingly abstruse, and the Elder has expounded this alone to me at great length; of what use is he to us? Provoked, he took his retinue with him and went to Elder Ānanda. Said Elder Ānanda, “What is it, lay disciple?” Atula replied, “Reverend Sir, we approached Elder Revata for the purpose of hearing the Law, and got not so much as a syllable from him. Provoked at this, we went to Elder Sāriputta and he expounded to us at great length Abhidhamma alone with all its subtleties. ‘Of what use is he to us?’ thought we to ourselves; and provoked at him also, we came here. Preach the Law to us, Reverend Sir.” “Well then,” replied Elder Ānanda, “sit down and listen.” Thereupon Elder Ānanda expounded the Law to them very briefly, and making it very easy for them to understand.

But they were provoked at the Elder Ānanda also, and going to the Teacher, saluted him, and sat down respectfully on one side. Said the Teacher to them, [327] “Lay disciples, why have you come here?” “To hear the Law, Reverend Sir.” “But you have heard the Law.” “Reverend Sir, first we went to Elder Revata, and he had nothing to say to us; provoked at him, we approached Elder Sāriputta, and he expounded the Abhidhamma to us at great length; but we were unable to understand his discourse, and provoked at him, approached the Elder Ānanda; Elder Ānanda, however, expounded the Law to us very briefly, wherefore we were provoked at him also and came here.”

The Teacher heard them say their say and then replied, “Atula, from days of yore until now, it has been the invariable practice of men to blame him who said nothing, him who said much, and him who said little. There is no one who deserves unqualified blame and no one who deserves unqualified praise. Even kings are blamed by some and praised by others. Even the great earth, even the sun and moon, even a Supremely Enlightened Buddha, sitting and speaking in the midst of the Fourfold Assembly, some blame, and others praise. For blame or praise bestowed by utter simpletons is a matter of no account. But he whom a man of learning and intelligence blames or praises,—

1 A photogravure of a palm-leaf manuscript book from Ceylon, “The Abhidhamma in brief,” is given in volume 28, between pages x and xi.

he is blamed or praised indeed.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas, [328]

227. This is an old, old saying, Atula, this is no mere saying of to-day:

“They blame him who sits silent, they blame him who says much.

They also blame him who says little.” There is no one in the world that is not blamed.

228. There never was, there never will be, there lives not now

A man who receives unqualified blame or unqualified praise.

229. If men of intelligence always, from day to day, praise

Some man as free from flaws, wise, endowed with learning and goodness,—

230. Who would venture to find fault with such a man, any more than with a coin made of gold of the Jambu river?

Even the gods praise such a man, even by Brahma is he praised.

XVII. 8. THE BAND OF SIX

Angry deeds should one control. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana with reference to the monks of the Band of Six. [330]

For one day the monks of the Band of Six put wooden shoes on their feet, and taking staves of wood in their two hands, walked up and down on the surface of a flat rock. The Teacher hearing the clatter, asked Elder Ānanda, “Ānanda, what is that noise?” The Elder replied, “The monks of the Band of Six are walking about in wooden shoes; they are making the clatter you hear.” When the Teacher heard this, he promulgated the following precept, “A monk should control his deeds, his words, and his thoughts.” So saying, he expounded the Law by pronouncing the following Stanzas,

231. Angry deeds should one control; one should be restrained in action;

One should renounce evil deeds; one should do good deeds.

232. Angry words should one control; one should be restrained in word;

One should renounce evil words; one should speak good words.

233. Angry thoughts should one control; one should be restrained in thought;

One should renounce evil thoughts; one should cultivate good thoughts.

234. Wise men who control their deeds, wise men who control their speech,

Wise men who control their thoughts, such men are indeed well controlled.

1 This story is derived from the Vinaya, Mahā Vagga, v. 6: i. 188»-189’. Text: N ill. 330-331.

BOOK XVIII.

BLEMISHES

MALA VAGGA

XVIII. 1. THE COW-KILLER AND HIS SON

Now art thou as a withered leaf. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain killer of cows. [332]

At Sāvatthi, so we are told, lived a certain killer of cows. He would kill cows, select the choicest portions of their flesh for his own table, cause the same to be cooked, and then sit down with son and wife and eat the same; the rest he sold for a price. For fifty-five years he kept up this practice of killing cows. During all this time, although the Teacher resided at a neighboring monastery, on no occasion did he give the Teacher so much as a spoonful of rice-gruel or boiled rice by way of alms. Unless he had meat to eat, he never ate rice. One day while it was still light, after selling some beef, he gave his wife a piece of beef to cook for his supper, and then went to the pool to bathe.

While he was absent, a friend of his came to the house and said to his wife, “Let me have a little of the beef which your husband has for sale; [333] a guest has come to my house.” “We have no beef for sale. Your friend has sold all his beef and has gone to the pool to bathe.” “Do not refuse my request; if you have a piece of beef in the house, give it to me.” “There is not a piece of beef in the house, except a piece which your friend has set aside for his own supper.” Thought the friend of the cow-killer, “If there is not a piece of beef in the house except a piece which my friend has set aside for his own supper, and if he will not eat unless he can have meat to eat, he will certainly not give me this piece of beef.” So he took the piece of beef himself and went off with it.

After the cow-killer had bathed, he returned home. When his wife set before him rice which she had boiled for him, seasoned with leaves of her own cooking, he said to her, “Where is the meat?” “Husband, there is none.” “Did I not give you meat to cook before

1 Cf. Stories i. 10, v. 1 c, xii. 1 c, and xxiv. 11. Text: N iii. S32-338.

I left the house?” “A friend of yours came to the house and said to me, ‘A guest has come to my house; let me have a little of the beef which you have for sale.’ I said to him, ‘There is not a piece of beef in the house, except a piece which your friend has set aside for his own supper, and he will not eat unless he can have meat to eat.’ But in spite of what I said to him, he took the piece of beef himself and went off with it.” “Unless I have meat to eat with it, I will not eat rice; take it away.” “What is to be done, husband? Pray eat the rice.” “That I will not.” Having caused his wife to remove the rice, he took a knife in his hand and left the house.

Now an ox was tethered in the rear of his house. The man went up to the ox, thrust his hand into the mouth of the ox, jerked out his tongue, cut it off at the root with his knife, and returned to the house with it. Having had it cooked on a bed of coals, he placed it on the boiled rice and sat down to eat his supper. He first ate a mouthful of rice, and then placed a piece of meat in his mouth. That very moment [334] his own tongue was cleft in twain and fell out of his mouth into the dish of rice. That very moment he received retribution similar in kind to the sin which he had committed. With a stream of blood flowing from his mouth, he entered the court of his house and crawled about on his hands and knees, bellowing just like an ox.

At this time the cow-killer’s son stood close by, watching his father. His mother said to him, “Son, behold this cow-killer crawling about the court of the house on his hands and knees, bellowing like an ox. This punishment is likely to fall upon your own head. Pay no attention to me, but seek safety in flight.” The son, terrified by the fear of death, bade farewell to his mother and fled. Having made good his escape, he went to Takkasila. As for the cow-killer, after he had crawled about the court of the house for a time, bellowing like an ox, he died, and was reborn in the Avīci Hell. The ox also died.

Having gone to Takkasila, the cow-killer’s son became apprenticed to a goldsmith. One day his master, as he set out for the village, said to him, “You are to make such and such an ornament.” So saying, his master departed. The apprentice made the ornament according to the directions he received. When his master returned and looked at the ornament, he thought to himself, “No matter where this youth may go, he will be able to earn his living anywhere.” So when the apprentice came of age, the goldsmith gave him his daughter in marriage. He increased with sons and daughters. When his sons came of age, they acquired the various arts, and subsequently going to Sāvatthi to live, established households of their own, and became faithful followers of the Buddha. Their father remained in Takkasila, spent his days without performing a single work of merit, [335] and finally reached old age. His sons thought to themselves, “Our father is now an old man,” and sent for him to come and live with them.

Then they thought to themselves, “Let us give alms in behalf of our father.” Accordingly they invited the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha to take a meal with them. On the following day they provided seats in their house for the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, served them with food, showing them every attention, and at the conclusion of the meal said to the Teacher, “Reverend Sir, this food which we have presented to you is the food whereby our father lives; render thanks therefor to our father.” The Teacher thereupon addressed him and said, “Lay disciple, you are an old man. Your body has ripened and is like a withered leaf. You have no good works to serve as provisions for the journey to the world beyond. Make for yourself a refuge. Be wise; be not a simpleton.” Thus spoke the Teacher, pronouncing the words of thanksgiving; and having thus spoken, pronounced the following Stanzas,

235. Now art thou as a withered leaf; death’s messengers await thee;

Thou standest at the point of departure; thou hast no provisions for the journey.

236. Make for thyself an island; haste thee to struggle; be wise;

When thy infirmities have been blown away, and thou hast freed thyself from the evil passions, thou shalt go to the heavenly place of the Elect. [336]

At the conclusion of the lesson the lay disciple was established in the Fruit of Conversion; the assembled company also profited by the lesson.

They invited the Teacher also for the following day and gave alms to him. When the Teacher had finished his meal, and it was time for him to pronounce the words of thanksgiving, they said to him, “Reverend Sir, this food which we have presented to you is the food whereby our father lives; render thanks therefor to him alone.” So the Teacher thanked him, pronouncing the two following Stanzas, [337]

237. Thy life is now brought to a close; thou art come into the presence of Death;

Thou hast no abiding-place by the way; thou hast no provisions for the journey.

238. Make for thyself an island; haste thee to struggle; be wise.

When thy infirmities have been blown away, and thou hast freed thyself from the evil passions, thou shalt no more come unto birth and old age.

XVIII. 2. LITTLE BY LITTLE

One after another. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain Brahman. [338]

The story goes that early one morning this Brahman went out of the city, stopped at the place where the monks put on their robes, and stood and watched them as they put on their robes. Now this place was thickly overgrown with grass. As one of the monks put on his robe, the skirt of the robe dragged through the grass and became wet with drops of dew. Thought the Brahman, [339] “The grass should be cleared away from this place.” So on the following day he took his mattock, went thither, cleared the place, and made it as clean and smooth as a threshing-floor. The day after, he went to that place again. As the monks put on their robes, he observed that the skirt of the robe of one of the monks dropped to the ground and dragged in the dust. Thought the Brahman, “Sand should be sprinkled here.” So he brought sand and sprinkled it on the ground.

Now one day before breakfast the heat was intense. On this occasion he noticed that as the monks put on their robes, sweat poured from their bodies. Thought the Brahman, “Here I ought to cause a pavilion to be erected.” Accordingly he caused a pavilion to be erected. Again one day, early in the morning, it rained. On this occasion also, as the Brahman watched the monks, he noticed that their robes were wetted by the drops of rain. Thought the Brahman, “Here I ought to cause a hall to be erected.” So there he caused a hall to be erected. When the hall was finished, he thought to himself, “Now I will hold a festival in honor of the completion of the hall.” Accordingly he invited the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, [340] seated the monks within and without the hall, and gave alms.

At the conclusion of the meal he took the Teacher’s bowl to permit him to pronounce the words of thanksgiving. “Reverend Sir,” said he, “as I stood in this place when the monks were putting on their robes and watched them, I saw this and that, and I did this and that.” And beginning at the beginning, he told the Teacher the whole story. The Teacher listened to his words and then said, “Brahman, a wise man by doing good works, time after time, little by little,

1 Text: N iii. 338-341.

gradually removes the stains of his own evil deeds.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

239. One after another, little by little, time after time, a wise man

Should blow away his own impurities, even as a smith blows away the impurities of silver.