Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

II. 9. TISSA OF THE MARKET-TOWN

A monk who delights in heedfulness. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Elder Tissa of the Market-town, Nigamavāsī Tissa. [283]

For a youth of station, born and reared in a certain market-town not far from Sāvatthi, retired from the world and became a monk in the Religion of the Teacher. On making his full profession, he became known as Tissa of the Market-town, or Nigama Tissa. He acquired the reputation of being frugal, contented, pure, resolute. He always made his rounds for alms in the village where his relatives resided. Although, in the neighboring city of Sāvatthi, Anāthapiṇḍika and other disciples were bestowing abundant offerings and Pasenadi Kosala was bestowing gifts beyond compare, he never went to Sāvatthi.

One day the monks began to talk about him and said to the Teacher, “This monk Nigama Tissa, busy and active, lives in intimate association with his kinsfolk. Although Anāthapiṇḍika and other disciples are bestowing abundant offerings and Pasenadi Kosala is bestowing Gifts beyond Compare, he never comes to Sāvatthi.” [284] The Teacher had Nigama Tissa summoned and asked him, “Monk, is the report true that you are doing thus and so?” “Reverend Sir,” replied Tissa, “it is not true that I live in intimate association with my relatives. I receive from these folk only so much food as I can eat. But after receiving so much food, whether coarse or fine, as is necessary to support me, I do not return to the monastery, thinking, ‘Why seek food?’ I do not live in intimate association with my relatives, Reverend Sir.” The Teacher, knowing the disposition of the monk, applauded him, saying, “Well done, well done, monk!” and then addressed him as follows, “It is not at all strange, monk, that after obtaining such a Teacher as I, you should be frugal. For frugality is my disposition and my habit.” And in response to a request of the monks he related the following

1 The Story of the Past presents an interesting problem. Dk. cm., i. 284--285’, is almost word for word the same as Jātaka 429: iii. 491-’-’’. Dh. cm. then makes Sakka utter, not the first stanza of Jātaka 429, but the first stanza of Jātaka 430, and refers the reader to the tenth Nipdta for the rest of the story. In FausboU’s edition the story occurs in the ninth Nipdta. But it has ten stanzas and doubtless stood in the tenth Nipdta of the recension of the Jātaka Book, to which the compiler of the Dhamma-pada Commentary had access. Text: N i. 283-286.

9 a. Story of the Past: Sakka and the parrot

Once upon a time several thousand parrots lived in a certain grove of fig-trees in the Himalaya country on the bank of the Ganges. One of them, the king-parrot, when the fruits of the tree in which he lived had withered away, ate whatever he found remaining, whether shoot or leaf or bark, drank water from the Ganges, and being very happy and contented, remained where he was. In fact he was so very happy and contented that the Abode of Sakka began to quake. Sakka considered the cause, and seeing the parrot, determined to put him to the test. Accordingly he employed his supernatural power and withered up the tree. Straightway the tree became a mere stump, full of holes and cracks. When the wind beat upon it, there came forth from the tree a hollow sound, and out of the holes and cracks came forth dust. [285] The parrot ate the dust, drank water from the Ganges, and going nowhere else, remained perched on the top of the fig-tree, recking naught of wind and sun.

When Sakka observed how very happy and contented the parrot was, he said to himself, “I will go to him, let him talk of the virtue of friendship, grant him his heart’s desire, and cause the fig-tree to bear ambrosial fruit.” Accordingly Sakka assumed the form of a royal goose, and preceded by Wellborn in the form of an Asura nymph, went to the grove of fig-trees, alighted on the branch of a certain tree not far off, and entered into conversation with the parrot by pronouncing the following Stanza,

There are trees with green leaves, trees aplenty with abundant fruit.

Why does the parrot’s heart delight in a tree that is withered and hollow?

(The entire Jātaka is here to be related in detail, just as it occurs in the tenth Nipāta. The occasion there is different from what it is here, but everything else is the same.) When the Teacher had given this religious instruction, he said, “At that time Sakka was Ānanda, and the parrot-king was I myself. Thus, monks, contentment is my disposition and my habit. It is, therefore, not at all strange that my son Nigamavasi Tissa, because he was so happy and contented, obtained me for his teacher. Such a monk, because he has attained the

1 The Jātaka goes on to say that the parrot replied, “This tree has been good to me in the past. Why should I forsake it now?” Thereupon Sakka caused the tree to bloom anew and to bear abundant fruit.

Paths and the Fruits, is not liable to fall away; nay rather he is nigh even unto Nibbāna.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

32. A monk who delights in heedfulness and views heedlessness with fear,

Is not liable to fall away, but is nigh even unto Nibbāna.

BOOK III.

THOUGHTS

CITTA VAGGA

III. 1. ELDER MEGHIYA

Thoughts, unsteady, fickle. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he resided on Calika mountain with reference to Venerable Meghiya. (For the story of this Elder, the entire Meghiya Suttanta should be related in detail.) 2 [287]

Once upon a time, by reason of attachment to the Three Evil Thoughts, Lust, Hatred, Delusion, Elder Meghiya was unable to practice Exertion in this mango-grove and returned to the Teacher. The Teacher addressed him as follows, “Meghiya, you committed a grievous fault. I asked you to remain, saying to you, ‘I am now alone, Meghiya. Just wait until some other monk appears.’ But despite my request, you went your way. A monk should never leave me alone and go his way when I ask him to remain. A monk should never be controlled thus by his thoughts. As for thoughts, they are flighty, and a man ought always to keep them under his own control.” So saying, the Teacher pronounced the two following Stanzas,

33. Thoughts, unsteady, fickle, difficult to guard, difficult to control, A wise man makes straight, even as a fletcher his arrow.

34. Like a fish thrown up on dry land from his watery home.

These thoughts writhe and quiver in their efforts to shake off the power of Māra. [289]

At the conclusion of the Stanzas Elder Meghiya was established in the Fruit of Conversion and many others in the Fruits of the Second and Third Paths.

III. 2. THE MIND-READER

Thoughts are unruly and flighty. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthi with reference to a certain monk. [290]

1 Cf. Thera-Gāthā Commentary, lxvi. Text: N i. 287-289.

2 Aṅguttara, iv. 354-358. Cf. also Udāna, iv. 1: 34-37.

3 Cf. Hardy’s Manual of Buddhism, pp. 287-290. Text: N i. 290-297.

In the country of the king of the Kosalans, it appears, at the foot of a mountain, was a certain thickly settled village named Mātika. Now one day sixty monks who had received from the Teacher a Subject of Meditation leading to Arahatship came to this village and entered it for alms. Now the headman of this village was a man named Mātika. When Mātika’s mother saw the monks, she provided them with seats, served them with rice-porridge flavored with all manner of choice flavors, and asked them, “Reverend Sirs, where do you desire to go?” “To some pleasant place, great lay disciple.” Knowing that the monks were seeking a place of residence for the season of the rains, she flung herself at their feet and said to them, “If the noble monks will reside here during these three months, I will take upon myself the Three Refuges and the Five Precepts and will perform Fast-day duties.” The monks consented, thinking to themselves, “With her assistance we shall be free from anxiety on the score of food and shall be able to effect Escape from Existence.”

Mātika’s mother superintended the erection of a monastery to serve as their place of residence, presented it to them, and the monks took up their residence there. On a certain day they met together and admonished each other as follows, “Brethren, it behooves us not to live the life of Heedlessness, for before us stand the Eight Great Hells with gates wide open, even as our own houses. Now we have come hither thus, having received a Subject of Meditation from the living Buddha. And the favor of the Buddhas cannot be won by a deceitful person, even though he walk in their very footsteps. Only by doing the will of the Buddhas can their favor be won. Therefore be Heedful. Two monks may neither stand nor sit in any one place. In the evening we shall meet together to wait upon the Elder, and early in the morning we shall meet together when it is time to go the rounds for alms. At other times two of us must never be together. If, however, a monk be taken sick, [291] let him come to the monastery court and strike a bell. At the signal given by the stroke on the bell, we will come together and provide a remedy for him.” Having made this agreement, they entered upon residence.

One day, while the monks were in residence, that female lay disciple took ghee, molasses, and other kinds of food and at eventide, accompanied by a retinue of slaves and servants, went to the monastery. Seeing no monks, she asked some men, “Where have the noble monks gone?” “My lady, they must be sitting in their own respective night-quarters and day-quarters.” “What must I do in order to see them?” Men who knew about the agreement made by the Congregation of Monks said, “If you strike the bell, my lady, they will assemble.” So she struck the bell. When the monks heard the sound of the bell, they thought to themselves, “Someone must be sick.” And coming forth from their several quarters, they assembled in the monastery court. No two monks came by the same path.

When the female lay disciple saw them approach one at a time, each from his own quarters, she thought to herself, “My sons must have had a quarrel with each other.” So, after paying obeisance to the Congregation of Monks, she asked them, “Have you had a quarrel, Reverend Sirs?” “No indeed, great lay disciple.” “If, Reverend Sirs, there is no quarrel among you, how is it that, whereas in coming to our house you came all together, to-day you do not approach in this manner, but instead approach one at a time, each from his own quarters?” “Great lay disciple, we were sitting each in his own cell, engaged in the practice of meditation.” “What do you mean, Reverend Sirs, by this expression, ‘practice of meditation’?” “We rehearse the Thirty-two Constituent Parts of the Body, and thus obtain a clear conception of the decay and death inherent in the body, great lay disciple.” “But, Reverend Sirs, are you alone permitted to rehearse the Thirty-two Constituent Parts of the Body, and thus obtain a clear conception of the decay and death inherent in the body; or are we also permitted to do this?” [292] “This practice is forbidden to none, great lay disciple.” “Well then, teach me also the Thirty-two Constituent Parts of the Body and show me how to obtain a clear conception of the decay and death inherent in the body.” “Very well, lay disciple,” said the monks, “learn them.” So saying, they taught her all. She began at once to rehearse the Thirty-two Constituent Parts of the Body, striving thereby to obtain for herself a clear conception of the decay and death inherent in the body. So successful was she that even in advance of those monks she attained the Three Paths and the Three Fruits, and by the same Paths won the Four Supernatural Powers and the Higher Faculties.

Arising from the bliss of the Paths and the Fruits, she looked with Supernatural Vision and considered within herself, “At what time did my sons attain this state?” Immediately she became aware of the following, “All these monks are still in the bondage of Lust, Hatred, Delusion. They have not yet, by the practice of Ecstatic Meditation, induced Spiritual Insight.” Then she pondered, “Do my sons possess the dispositions requisite for the attainment of Arahatship or do they not?” She perceived, “They do.” Then she pondered, “Do they possess suitable lodgings or do they not?” Immediately she perceived that they did. Then she pondered, “Have they proper companions or have they not?” Immediately she perceived that they had. Finally she pondered the question, “Do they receive proper food or do they not?” She perceived, “They do not receive proper food.”

From that time on she provided them with various kinds of rice-porridge and with all manner of hard food and with soft food flavored with various choice flavors. And seating the monks in her house, she offered them Water of Donation and presented the food to them, saying, “Reverend Sirs, take and eat whatever you desire.” As the result of the wholesome food they received, their minds became tranquil; and as the result of tranquillity of mind, they developed Spiritual Insight and attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Powers. Then the thought occurred to them, “The great female lay disciple has indeed been our support. Had we not received wholesome food, we should never have attained the Paths and the Fruits. As soon as we have completed our residence and celebrated the Terminal Festival, [293] let us go visit the Teacher.” Accordingly they took leave of the great female lay disciple, saying, “Lay disciple, we desire to see the Teacher.” “Very well, noble sirs,” said she. So she accompanied them on their journey a little way, and then, saying, “Look in on us again, Reverend Sirs,” and many other pleasant words, she returned to her house.

When those monks arrived at Sāvatthi, they paid obeisance to the Teacher and sat down respectfully on one side. The Teacher said to them, “Monks, you have evidently fared well, had plenty to eat, and not been troubled on the score of food.” The monks replied, “We have indeed fared well, Reverend Sir, had plenty to eat, and by no means been troubled on the score of food. For a certain female lay disciple, the Mother of Mātika, knew the course of our thoughts, insomuch that the moment we thought, ‘Oh that she would prepare such and such food for us!’ she prepared the very food we thought of and gave to us.” Thus did they recite her praises.

A certain monk, who heard his brethren praise the virtues of their hostess, conceived a desire to go there. So obtaining a Subject of Meditation from the Teacher, he took leave of the Teacher, saying, “Reverend Sir, I intend to go to that village.” And departing from Jetavana, he arrived in due course at that village and entered the monastery. On the very day he entered the monastery he thought to himself, “I have heard it said that this female lay disciple knows every thought that passes through the mind of another. Now I have been wearied by my journey and shall not be able to sweep the monastery. Oh that she would send a man to make ready the monastery for me!” The female lay disciple, sitting in her house, pondering within herself, became aware of this fact and sent a man thither, saying to him, “Go make ready the monastery and turn it over to him.” The man went and swept the monastery and turned it over to him. Then the monk, desiring to have water to drink, thought to himself, “Oh that she would send me some sweetened water!” Straightway the female lay disciple sent it. On the following day, early in the morning, he thought to himself, “Let her send me rice-porridge with plenty of butter, together with some dainty bits.” The female lay disciple straightway did so. [294] After he had finished drinking the porridge, he thought to himself, “Oh that she would send me such and such hard food!” The female lay disciple straightway sent this also to him.

Then he thought to himself, “This female lay disciple has sent me every single thing I have thought of. I should like to see her. Oh that she would come to me in person, bringing with her soft food seasoned with various choice seasonings!” The female lay disciple thought to herself, “My son wishes to see me, desires me to go to him.” So procuring soft food, she went to the monastery and gave it to him. When he had eaten his meal, he asked her, “Lay disciple, your name is Mother of Mātika?” “Yes, dear son.” “You know the thoughts of another?” “Why do you ask me, dear son?” “You have done for me every single thing I have thought of; that is why I ask you.” “Many are the monks who know the thoughts of another, dear son.” “I am not asking anyone else; I am asking you, lay disciple.” Even under these circumstances the female lay disciple avoided saying, “I know the thoughts of another,” and said instead, “Those who know not the thoughts of another do thus, my son.”

Thereupon the monk thought to himself, “I am in a most embarrassing position. They that are unconverted entertain both noble and ignoble thoughts. Were I to entertain a single sinful thought, she would doubtless seize me by the topknot, bag and baggage, as she would seize a thief, and do me harm. Therefore I had best run away from here.” So he said to the female lay disciple, “Lay disciple, I intend to go away.” “Where are you going, noble sir?” “To the Teacher, lay disciple.” “Reside here for a while, Reverend Sir.” “I can no longer reside here, lay disciple. I must positively go away.” With these words he departed and went to the Teacher.

The Teacher asked him, “Monk, are you no longer residing there?” “No, Reverend Sir, I cannot reside there any longer.” “For what reason, monk?” “Reverend Sir, that female lay disciple knows every single thought that passes through my mind. It occurred to me, ‘They that are unconverted entertain both noble and ignoble thoughts. Were I to entertain a single sinful thought, she would doubtless seize me by the topknot, bag and baggage, as she would seize a thief, and do me harm.’ That is why I have returned.” “Monk, that is the very place where you ought to reside.” [295] “I cannot, Reverend Sir, I will not reside there any longer.” “Well then, monk, can you guard just one thing?” “What do you mean, Reverend Sir?” “Guard your thoughts alone, for thoughts are hard to guard. Restrain your thoughts alone. Do not concern yourself with aught else, for thoughts are unruly.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

35. Thoughts are unruly and flighty, and flit and flutter wherever they list.

It is a good thing to tame the thoughts; tamed thoughts bring happiness. [296]

When the Teacher had admonished that monk, he dismissed him, saying, “Go, monk, concern yourself with nothing else. Resume residence in that same place.” And that monk, after being admonished by the Teacher, went to that same place and concerned himself with nothing other than his thoughts. The great female lay disciple looked with Supernatural Vision. Seeing the Elder, she determined by her own knowledge alone the following fact, “My son has now gained a Teacher who gives admonition and has returned once more.” And forthwith she prepared wholesome food and gave it to him. Once having received wholesome food, in but a few days the Elder attained Arahatship.

As the Elder passed his days in the enjoyment of the bliss of the Paths and the Fruits, he thought to himself, “The great female lay disciple has indeed been a support to me. By her assistance I have gained Release from Existence.” And he considered within himself, “Has she been a support to me in my present state of existence only, or has she been a support to me in other states of existence also, as I have passed from one state of existence to another in the round of existences?” With this thought in mind he recalled a hundred states of existence less one. Now in a hundred states of existence less one that female lay disciple had been his wife, and her affections had been set on other men, and she had caused him to be deprived of life. When, therefore, the Elder beheld the huge pile of demerit she had accumulated, he thought to himself, “Oh, what wicked deeds this female lay disciple has committed!”

The great female lay disciple also sat in her house, considering within herself the following thought, “Has my son reached the goal of the religious life?” Perceiving that he had attained Arahatship, she continued her reflections as follows, “When my son attained Arahatship, he thought to himself, ‘This female lay disciple has indeed been a powerful support to me.’ Then he considered within himself, ‘Has she been a support to me in previous states of existence also or has she not?’ With this thought in mind he recalled a hundred states of existence less one. Now in a hundred states of existence less one I conspired with other men and deprived him of life. [297] When, therefore, he beheld the huge pile of demerit I thus accumulated, he thought to himself, ‘Oh, what wicked deeds this female lay disciple has committed!’ Is it not possible that, as I have passed from one state of existence to another in the round of existences, I have rendered assistance to him?”

Considering the matter further, she called up before her mind her hundredth state of existence and became aware of the following, “In my hundredth state of existence I was his wife. On a certain occasion, when I might have deprived him of life, I spared his life. I have indeed rendered great assistance to my son.” And still remaining seated in her house, she said, “Discern further and consider the matter.” By the power of Supernatural Audition the monk immediately heard what she said. Discerning further, he called up before his mind his hundredth state of existence and perceived that in that state of existence she had spared his life. Filled with joy, he thought to himself, “This female lay disciple has indeed rendered great assistance to me.” Then and there, reciting the questions relating to the Four Paths and Fruits, he passed into that form of Nibbāna in which no trace of the Elements of Being remains.

III. 3. A DISCONTENTED MONK

Thoughts are exceedingly hard to see. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a certain discontented monk.

We are told that while the Teacher was in residence at Sāvatthi, a certain treasurer’s son approached an Elder who resorted to his house for alms and said to him, “Reverend Sir, I desire to obtain Release from Suffering. Tell me some way by which I can obtain Release from Suffering.” [298] The Elder replied, “Peace be unto you, brother. If you desire Release from Suffering, give ticket-food, give fortnightly food, give lodging during the season of the rains, give bowls and robes and the other Requisites. Divide your possessions into three parts: with one portion carry on your business; with another portion support son and wife; dispense the third portion in alms in the Religion of the Buddha.”

“Very well, Reverend Sir,” said the treasurer’s son, and did all in the prescribed order. Having done all, he returned to the Elder and asked him, “Reverend Sir, is there anything else I ought to do?” “Brother, take upon yourself the Three Refuges and the Five Precepts.” The treasurer’s son did so, and then asked whether there was anything else he ought to do. “Yes,” replied the Elder, “take upon yourself the Ten Precepts.” “Very well, Reverend Sir,” said the treasurer’s son, and took upon himself the Ten Precepts. Because the treasurer’s son had in this manner performed works of merit, one after another (anupubbena), he came to be called Anupubba. Again he asked the Elder, “Reverend Sir, is there anything else I ought to do?” The Elder replied, “Yes, become a monk.” The treasurer’s son immediately retired from the world and became a monk.

Now he had a teacher who was versed in the Abhidhamma and a preceptor who was versed in the Vinaya. After he had made his full profession, whenever he approached his teacher, the latter repeated questions found in the Abhidhamma, “In the Religion of the Buddha it is lawful to do this, it is unlawful to do that.” And whenever he approached his preceptor, the latter repeated questions found in the Vinaya, “In the Religion of the Buddha it is lawful to do this, it is unlawful to do that; this is proper, this is improper.” After a time he thought to himself, “Oh, what a wearisome task this is! I became a monk in order to obtain Release from Suffering, but here there is not even room for me to stretch out my hands. [299] It is possible, however, to obtain Release from Suffering, even if one live the house-life. I had best become a householder once more.”

From that time forth, discontented and dissatisfied, he rehearsed the Thirty-two Constituent Parts of the Body no more and received instruction no more. He became emaciated, his skin shriveled up, veins stood out all over his body, weariness oppressed him, and his body was covered with scabs. The probationers and novices asked him, “Brother, how is it that wherever you stand, wherever you sit, you are sick of the jaundice, emaciated, shriveled up, your body covered with scabs? What have you done?” “Brethren, I am discontented.” “Why?” He told them his story, and they told his teacher and his preceptor, and his teacher and his preceptor took him with them to the Teacher.

Said the Teacher, “Monks, why have you come?” “Reverend Sir, this monk is dissatisfied in your Religion.” “Monk, is what they say true?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “Why are you dissatisfied?” “Reverend Sir, I became a monk in order to obtain Release from Suffering. My teacher has recited passages from the Abhidhamma, and my preceptor has recited passages from the Vinaya. Reverend Sir, I have come to the following conclusion, ‘Here there is not even room for me to stretch out my hands. It is possible for me to obtain Release from Suffering as a householder. I will therefore become a householder.’” “Monk, if you can guard one thing, it will not be necessary for you to guard the rest.” “What is that, Reverend Sir?” “Can you guard your thoughts?” “I can, Reverend Sir.” “Well then, guard your thoughts alone.” Having given this admonition, the Teacher pronounced the following Stanza,

36. Thoughts are exceedingly hard to see, exceedingly subtle, and flit and flutter wherever they list.

A wise man should guard his thoughts; guarded thoughts bring happiness.

III. 4. NEPHEW SANGHARAKKHITA

Thoughts wander afar. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthi with reference to Sangharakkhita. [300]

The story goes that a certain youth of respectable family living at Sāvatthi, after hearing a sermon of the Teacher, retired from the world, was received into the Order, made his full profession, and in but a few days attained Arahatship. He was known as Elder Sangharakkhita. [301] When his youngest sister gave birth to a son, she named him after the Elder, and thus he came to be known as Nephew Sangharakkhita. When Nephew Sangharakkhita came of age, he entered the Order under the Elder, and after making his full profession, entered upon residence for the period of the rains at a certain village monastery. Receiving two sets of robes such as are worn by monks during the period of the rains, one seven cubits long, the other eight cubits long, he decided to present the robe eight cubits long to his preceptor and to keep the robe seven cubits long for himself. When he had completed residence, he set out for the purpose of seeing his preceptor and journeyed from place to place, receiving alms by the way.

He arrived at the monastery before the Elder arrived. Entering the monastery, he swept the Elder’s day-quarters, set out water for bathing the feet, prepared a seat, and then sat down, watching the road by which the Elder would approach. When he saw the Elder approach, he advanced to meet him, took his bowl and robe, seated the Elder with the words, “Pray be seated, Reverend Sir,” took a palm-leaf fan and fanned him, gave him water to drink, and bathed his feet. Finally he brought forth the robe, laid it at the Elder’s feet, and said, “Reverend Sir, pray wear this robe.” Having so done, he resumed fanning him. Said the Elder to the nephew, “Sangharakkhita, I have a complete set of robes; you wear this robe yourself.” “Reverend Sir, from the moment I received this robe I set my heart on giving it to you alone. Pray make use of it.” “Never mind, Sangharakkhita, my set of robes is complete; you wear this robe yourself.” “Reverend Sir, pray do not refuse the robe, for if you wear it, great will be the fruit I shall receive thereby.”

Although the younger monk repeated his request several times, [302] the Elder refused to accept the present of the robe. So, as the younger monk stood there fanning the Elder, he thought to himself, “While the Elder was a layman, I stood in the relation of nephew to him. Since he has been a monk, I have been his fellow-resident. But in spite of this he is not willing as my preceptor to share my possessions. If he is not willing to share my possessions with me, why should I longer remain a monk? I will become a householder once more.” Then the following thought occurred to him, “It is a hard thing to live the house-life. Suppose I become a householder once more; how shall I gain a living?” Finally the following thought occurred to him, 1

“I will sell this robe eight cubits long and buy me a she-goat. Now she-goats are very prolific, and as fast as the she-goat brings forth young, I will sell them, and in this way accumulate some capital. As soon as I have accumulated some capital, I will fetch me a wife. My wife will bear me a son, and I will name him after my uncle. I will put my son in a go-cart, and taking son and wife with me, will go to pay my respects to my uncle. As I journey by the way, I will say to my wife, ‘Just bring me my son; I wish to carry him.’ She will reply, ‘Why should you carry this boy? Come, push this go-cart.’ So saying, she will take the boy in her arms, thinking to herself, ‘I will carry him myself.’ But lacking the necessary strength to carry him, she will let him fall in the path of the wheels, and the go-cart will run over him. Then I will say to her, ‘You would not even give me my own son to carry, although you were not strong enough to carry him yourself. You have ruined me.’ So saying, I will bring down my stick on her back.”

Thus pondered the younger monk [303] as he stood fanning the Elder. As he concluded his reflections, he swung his palm-leaf fan and brought it down on the head of the Elder. The Elder considered within himself, “Why did Sangharakkhita strike me on the head?” Immediately becoming aware of every single thought that had passed through the mind of his nephew, he said to him, “Sangharakkhita, you did not succeed in hitting the woman; but what has an old Elder done to deserve a beating?” The younger monk thought to himself, “Oh, I am ruined! My preceptor, it appears, knows every thought that has passed through my mind. What have I to do with the life of a monk any longer?” Straightway he threw his fan away

1 Cf. Panchatantra: Purnabhadra’s recension, v. vii; Tantrakhydyika, v. i.

and started to run off. But the probationers and novices ran after him, caught him, and led him to the Teacher.

When the Teacher saw those monks, he asked them, “Monks, why have you come here? Have you captured a monk?” “Yes, Reverend Sir. This probationer became discontented and ran away, but we captured him and have brought him to you.” “Monk, is what they say true?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “Monk, why did you commit so grievous a fault? Are you not the son of a Buddha the powers of whose will are ever active? And once having retired from the world in the Religion of a Buddha like me, though you failed through self-conquest to win for yourself the title of one who has attained the Fruit of Conversion or the Fruit of the Second Path or the Fruit of the Third Path or Arahatship, yet for all that, why did you commit so grievous a fault as this?”

“I am discontented, Reverend Sir.” “Why are you discontented?” In reply the younger monk related the whole story of his experiences, from the day he received the robes worn by monks in residence to the moment when he struck the Elder on the head with his palm-leaf fan. “Reverend Sir,” said he, “that is why I ran away.” [304] Said the Teacher, “Come, monk; be not disturbed. The mind has a way of dwelling on subjects that are far off. One should strive to free it from the bonds of Lust, Hatred, and Delusion.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

37. Thoughts wander afar, wander alone, are bodiless, seek a hiding place;

Whoso restrain their thoughts will obtain release from the bond of Māra.

III. 5. ELDER THOUGHT-CONTROLLED

He whose heart abides not steadfast. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthi with reference to Elder Thought-controlled, Cittahattha. [305]

The story goes that a certain youth of respectable family, living at Sāvatthi, went into the forest to look for an ox that was lost. When it was midday, he saw the ox and released the herds, and being oppressed by hunger and thirst, thought to himself, “I can surely get something to eat from the noble monks.” So he entered the monastery,

1 This is a free version of Jātaka 70: i. 311-315. The Jātaka, however, quotes not Dhammapada 38, but Dhammapada 35. Text: N i. 305-313.

went to the monks, bowed to them, and stood respectfully on one side. Now at that time the food which remained over and above to the monks who had eaten lay in the vessel used for refuse. When the monks saw that youth, exhausted by hunger as he was, they said to him, “Here is food; take and eat it.” (When a Buddha is living in the world, there is always a plentiful supply of rice-porridge, together with various sauces and curries.) [306] So the youth took and ate as much food as he needed drank water, washed his hands, and then bowed to the monks and asked them, “Reverend Sirs, did you go to some house by invitation to-day?” “No, lay disciple; monks always receive food in this way.”

The youth thought to himself, “No matter how busy and active we may be, though we work continually both by night and by day, we never get rice-porridge so deliciously seasoned. But these monks, according to their own statement, eat it continually. Why should I remain a layman any longer? I will become a monk.” Accordingly he approached the monks and asked to be received into the Order. The monks said to him, “Very well, lay disciple,” and received him into the Order. After making his full profession, he performed all the various major and minor duties; and in but a few days, sharing in the rich offerings which accrue to the Buddhas, he became fat and well-liking.

Then he thought to himself, “Why should I live on food obtained by making alms-pilgrimages? I will become a layman once more.” So back he went and entered his house. After working in his house for only a few days, his body languished. Thereupon he said to himself, “Why should I endure this suffering any longer? I will become a monk.” So back he went and became a monk again. But after spending a few days as a monk, becoming discontented once more, off he went again. Now when he was a monk, he was a helper of the other monks. After a few days he became discontented again and said to himself, “Why should I live the life of a layman any longer? I will become a monk.” So saying, he went to the monks, bowed, and asked to be received into the Order. Because he had helped them, the monks received him into the Order once more. In this manner he entered the Order and left it again six times in succession. The monks said to themselves, “This man lives under the sway of his thoughts.” So they gave him the name Thought-controlled, Elder Cittahattha.

As he was thus going back and forth, his wife became pregnant. The seventh time [307] he returned from the forest with his farming implements he went to the house, put his implements away, and entered his own room, saying to himself, “I will put on my yellow robe again.” Now his wife happened to be abed and asleep at the time. Her undergarment had fallen off, saliva was flowing from her mouth, she was snoring, her mouth was wide open; she appeared to him like a swollen corpse. Grasping the thought, “All that is in this world is transitory, is involved in suffering,” he said to himself, “To think that because of her, all the time I have been a monk, I have been unable to continue steadfast in the monastic life!” Straightway taking his yellow robe by the hem, he ran out of the house, binding the robe about his belly as he ran.

Now his mother-in-law lived in the same house with him. When she saw him departing in this wise, she said to herself, “This renegade, who but this moment returned from the forest, is running from the house, binding his yellow robe about him as he runs, and is making for the monastery. What does this mean?” Entering the house and seeing her daughter asleep, she knew at once, “It was because he saw her asleep that he became disgusted and went away.” So she shook her daughter and said to her, “Rise, hag. Your husband saw you asleep, became disgusted, and went away. You will have him no more for your husband henceforth.” “Begone, mother. What matters it whether he has gone or not? He will be back again in but a few days.” [308]

As Cittahattha proceeded on his way, repeating the words, “All that is in this world is transitory, is involved in suffering,” he obtained the Fruit of Conversion. Continuing his journey, he went to the monks, bowed to them, and asked to be received into the Order. “No,” said the monks, “we cannot receive you into the Order. Why should you become a monk? Your head is like a grindstone.” “Reverend Sirs, receive me into the Order just this once.” Because he had helped them, they received him into the Order. After a few days he attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties.

Thereupon they said to him, “Brother Cittahattha, doubtless you alone will decide when it is time for you to go away again; you have tarried here a long while this time.” “Reverend Sirs, when I was attached to the world, I went away; but now I have put away attachment to the world; I have no longer any desire to go away.” The monks went to the Teacher and said, “Reverend Sir, we said such and such to this monk, and he said such and such to us in reply. He utters falsehood, says what is not true.” The Teacher replied, “Yes, monks, when my son’s mind was unsteady, when he knew not the Good Law, then he went and came. But now he has renounced both good and evil.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas,

38. He whose heart abides not steadfast.

He who knows not the Good Law,

He whose faith flounders about,

Such a man lacks perfect wisdom.

39. He whose heart is unwetted by the rain of lust.

He whose heart is unsinged by the fire of ill-will.

He who has renounced both good and evil.

He who is vigilant, — such a man has nothing to fear. [310]

Now one day the monks began a discussion: “Brethren, grievous indeed are these evil passions of ours. So noble a youth as this, predestined to attain Arahatship, swayed by evil passions, became a monk seven times, and seven times returned to the world.” The Teacher heard them discussing this matter, went at an opportune moment, entered the Hall of Truth, sat down in the Seat of the Buddha, and asked them, “Monks, what is it you are sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, he said, “It is precisely so, monks. The evil passions are indeed grievous. If they could take on material forms, so that they could be put away somewhere, a World would be too restricted for them and the Heaven of Brahma too low for them. There would not be room for them anywhere. They bewilder even one like me, possessed of wisdom, a being of noble birth. Who can describe their effect on others? For in a previous state of existence even I, all because of half a pint-pot of seed-beans [311] and a blunt spade, became a monk six times and returned to the world six times.” “When did that happen, Reverend Sir?” “Do you wish to hear about it, monks?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” “Well then, listen.” So saying, the Teacher related the following

5 a. Story of the Past: Kuddala and his spade

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benāres, there dwelt at Benāres a certain wise man named Spade Sage, Kuddala. He became a monk of an heretical Order and dwelt for eight months in the Himalaya country. One night during the season of the rains, when the ground was wet, he thought to himself, “I have in my house half a pint-pot of seed-beans and a blunt spade; my seed-beans must not be lost.” So he returned to the world, tilled a certain plot of ground with his spade, planted that seed, and put a fence around it. When the beans were ripe, he pulled them up, and setting aside a pint-pot of beans for seed, he used the rest for food. Then he thought to himself, “Why should I live the life of a layman any longer? I will reside in the Himalaya country for eight months more as a monk.” So he departed from his house and became a monk once more. In this manner, all because of half a pint-pot of seed-beans and a blunt spade, he became a monk seven times, and seven times returned to the world.

The seventh time he thought to himself, “Seven times I have returned to the world after becoming a monk, all because of this blunt spade. I will throw it away somewhere.” So he went to the bank of the Ganges, carrying the pint-pot of seed-beans and the blunt spade with him. As he stood on the bank of the river, he thought to himself, “If I see the spot where these things fall, I may be tempted to descend into the river and fish them out. Therefore I will take care to throw them in such a way that I shall not see where they fall.” Accordingly he wrapped the pint-pot of seeds in a cloth, tied the cloth to the handle of the spade, and grasped the spade by the tip of the handle. And standing there on the bank of the Ganges, he closed his eyes, whirled the spade three times round over his head, [312] and flung it into the Ganges. Then he faced about so that he might not see where the spade fell and cried three times with a loud voice, “I have conquered! I have conquered!”

Just at that moment the king of Benāres, who had returned from suppressing disorder on his frontier and pitched camp on the bank of the river and descended into the stream to bathe, heard that cry. Now the cry, “I have conquered!” is a cry kings do not like to hear. The king of Benāres therefore went to Cittahattha and said, “I have but just put my enemy under my feet and have returned with the thought in my mind, ‘I have conquered!’ But you have just cried out, ‘I have conquered! I have conquered!’ What do you mean by this?” Said Spade Sage, “You have conquered bandits that are without. The victory you have won will have to be won again. But I have conquered an enemy that is within, the bandit of desire. He will never conquer me again. Victory over him is the only true victory,” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

That victory is no true victory which must be won again;

That victory is true victory which need not be won again.

At that moment, gazing upon the Ganges and meditating upon the element of water. Spade Sage acquired Specific Attainment, whereupon he rose from the ground and sat cross-legged in the air. The king after hearing the religious instruction of the Great Being, paid obeisance to him, requested him to receive him as a monk, and became a monk, together with his entire force; his retinue extended for a distance of a league. Another king who was his neighbor, hearing that he had become a monk, thought to himself, “I will seize his kingdom,” and went thither, intending to do so. But when he saw that prosperous city empty, he thought to himself, “A king who would give up so beautiful a city to become a monk would certainly not become a monk to his own hindrance. I also ought to become a monk.” Therefore he went to where the Great Being was, paid obeisance to him, requested him to receive him as a monk, and became a monk, together with his retinue. In like manner seven kings in all became monks; their hermitage was seven leagues long; [313] seven kings renounced their worldly possessions and became monks. Having won over all this numerous company, the Great Being lived the holy life and went to the Heaven of Brahma. End of Story of the Past.

When the Teacher had finished this lesson, he said, “Monks, at that time I was Spade Sage. Learn from this story how grievous the evil passions are.”

III. 6. MONKS AND TREE-SPIRITS

Realizing that this body is fragile as a jar. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthi with reference to some monks who attained Insight.

At Sāvatthi, we are told, five hundred monks obtained from the Teacher a Subject of Meditation leading to Arahatship, and with the intention of devoting themselves to the practice of meditation, went a hundred leagues to a large village. When the inhabitants of the village saw them, they provided them with seats, served them with choice rice-porridge and other kinds of food, and asked them, “Reverend Sirs, where are you going?” The monks replied, “To some pleasant place.” Then said the inhabitants of the village, “Reverend Sirs,

1 For a similar story, see Khuddaka Pdtha Cmnrnentary, 232.7-235.23, 251.25-252.20. Kh. cm. is much longer and more detailed. The author of Kh. cm., after giving his own version of the Buddha’s final instructions to the monks, says Apare pan’ ahu, and then proceeds to give an entirely different account. Text: N i. 313-318.

reside right here during these three months. Under your direction we will abide steadfast in the Refuges and will keep the Precepts.” The villagers, having obtained the consent of the monks, said, “Reverend Sirs, there is a large forest-grove not far from this place. Take up your residence there.” So saying, the villagers dismissed the monks, and the monks entered the forest.

Thereupon virtuous spirits dwelling in that forest-grove thought, “A company of monks [314] have come to this forest-grove. If, however, these monks dwell in this forest-grove, it will be improper for us longer to take son and wife, climb the trees, and live here.” Accordingly they came down from the trees, seated themselves on the ground, and reflected, “If the monks remain in this place to-night, they will surely leave to-morrow morning.” But on the following day also the monks, after making their rounds for alms in the village, returned again to that same forest-grove. Thereupon the spirits thought to themselves, “Someone must have invited the company of monks for to-morrow, and for this reason they have returned. To-day they will not depart, but to-morrow they will surely depart.” Reasoning in this way, they sat for a fortnight on the ground.

Then they thought to themselves, “It is doubtless the intention of the monks to remain right here during these three months. But if they do remain here, it will be improper for us to take son and wife, climb the trees, and live here for three months. Moreover, it will greatly weary us to sit here on the ground. By what means can we best drive these monks away?” Accordingly in the night-quarters, in the day-quarters, and at the ends of the cloisters the spirits caused the monks to see bodiless heads and headless trunks and to hear the voices of demons. At the same time the monks were afflicted with sneezing and coughing and suffered from many other ailments besides. They said to each other, “Brother, what ails you?” “I am afflicted with sneezing. I am afflicted with coughing.” “Brethren, to-day, at the end of the cloister, I saw a bodiless head. Brethren, in the night-quarters I saw a headless trunk. [315] Brethren, in the day-quarters I heard a demon’s voice. We ought by all means to leave this place; this is an unpleasant place for us. Let us go to the Teacher.”

Accordingly they departed from the forest-grove, went in due course to the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, and sat down respectfully on one side. Said the Teacher to them, “Monks, were you unable to dwell in that place?” “Even so, Reverend Sir. While we dwelt there, such fearful objects as these presented themselves to our sight. The place was so unpleasant for us that we decided we must leave it. Therefore we have abandoned it and have returned to you.” “Monks, to that very place you ought to return.” “We cannot do so, Reverend Sir.” “Monks, when you went there the first time, you went without a weapon. Now you must take a weapon with you when you go.” “What kind of weapon, Reverend Sir?” Said the Teacher, “I will give you a weapon, and the weapon which I give you you are to take with you when you go.” Then he recited the entire Metta Sutta, beginning as follows, “This must he do who is skilled to seek his own spiritual good, once he has attained the Region of Tranquillity: he must be honest and upright and meek and mild and free from vaingloriousness.” Having recited this Sutta, he said, “Monks, recite this Sutta from the forest-grove, without the hermitage, and then you may enter within the hermitage.” With these instructions he dismissed them.

They paid obeisance to the Teacher, started out, and in due course arrived at that forest-grove. Reciting the Sutta in unison without the hermitage, they entered the forest-grove. Thereupon the spirits residing throughout the forest-grove conceived friendly feelings in their hearts for the monks, came forth to meet them, asked the monks to let them take their bowls and robes, [316] offered to rub their hands and feet, posted strong guards on all sides, and sat down together with them. Not a demon’s voice was heard. The hearts of those monks became tranquil. Sitting in their night-quarters and day-quarters they strove to attain Insight. Fixing in their minds the thought of the decay and death inherent in their bodies and reflecting upon the thought, “By reason of its fragile and unstable nature this body is like a potter’s vessel,” they developed Spiritual Insight.

The Supremely Enlightened, even as he sat in the Perfumed Chamber, knowing that those monks had begun to develop Spiritual Insight, addressed them, “It is even so, monks. This body, by reason of its fragile and unstable nature, is precisely like a potter’s vessel.” So saying, he sent forth a luminous image of himself, and although a hundred leagues away, appearing to be seated face to face with them, present in visible form, diffusing six-colored rays of light, pronounced the following Stanza,

40. Realizing that this body is fragile as a jar, establishing these thoughts as firm as a city,

One should attack Māra with the weapon of wisdom; one should stand guard over Māra when he is defeated; one should never rest.

III. 7. CRUELTY A CAUSE OF BOILS

In no long time this body. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthi with reference to Elder Putigatta Tissa. [319]

A certain youth of station who lived at Sāvatthi heard the Teacher preach the Law, yielded the breast to religion, retired from the world, and after admission as a full member of the Order became known as Elder Tissa. As time went on, an eruption broke out on his body. At first appeared pustules no bigger than mustard-seeds, but as the disease progressed, they assumed successively the size of kidney-beans, chick-peas, jujube seeds, emblic myrobalans, and vilva fruits. Finally they burst open, and his whole body became covered with open sores. In this way he came to be called Elder Putigatta Tissa. After a time his bones began to disintegrate, and no one was willing to take care of him. His under and upper garments, which were stained with dried blood, looked like net-cakes. His fellow-residents, unable to care for him, cast him out, and he lay down on the ground without a protector.

Now the Buddhas never fail to survey the world twice a day. At dawn they survey the world, looking from the rim of the world towards the Perfumed Chamber, taking cognizance of all they see. In the evening they survey the world, looking from the Perfumed Chamber and taking cognizance of all that is without. Now at this time the Elder Putigatta Tissa appeared within the net of the Exalted One’s knowledge. The Teacher, knowing that the monk Tissa was ripe for Arahatship, thought to himself, “This monk has been abandoned by his associates; at the present time he has no other refuge than me.” Accordingly the Teacher departed from the Perfumed Chamber, and pretending to be making the rounds of the monastery, went to the hall where the fire was kept. He washed the boiler, placed it on the brazier, waited in the fire-room for the water to boil, and when he knew it was hot, went [320] and took hold of the end of the bed where that monk was lying.

At that time the monks said to the Teacher, “Pray depart, Reverend Sir; we will carry him in for you.” So saying, they took up the bed and carried Tissa into the fire-room. The Teacher caused a

1 Text: N i. 319-322.

measure to be brought and sprinkled hot water. He then caused the monks to take Tissa’s upper garment, wash it thoroughly in hot water, and lay it in the sunshine to dry. Then he went, and taking his stand near Tissa, moistened his body with hot water and rubbed and bathed him. At the end of his bath his upper garment was dry. The Teacher caused him to be clothed in his upper garment and caused his under garment to be washed thoroughly in hot water and laid in the sun to dry. As soon as the water had evaporated from his body, his under garment was dry. Thereupon Tissa put on one of the yellow robes as an under garment and the other as an upper garment, and with body refreshed and mind tranquil lay down on the bed. The Teacher took his stand at Tissa’s pillow and said to him, “Monk, consciousness will depart from you, your body will become useless and, like a log, will lie on the ground.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

41. In no long time this body will lie on the ground.

Despised, with consciousness departed, like a useless log. [321]

At the conclusion of the lesson Elder Putigatta Tissa attained Arahatship and passed into Nibbāna. The Teacher performed the funeral rites over his body, and taking the relics, caused a shrine to be erected.

The monks asked the Teacher, “Reverend Sir, where was Elder Putigatta Tissa reborn?” “He has passed into Nibbāna, monks.” “Reverend Sir, how did it happen that such a monk, predestined to attain Arahatship, came to have a diseased body? Why did his bones disintegrate? Through what deed in a former birth did he obtain the dispositions requisite for the attainment of Arahatship?” “Monks, all these things happened solely because of deeds he committed in a previous existence.” “But, Reverend Sir, what did he do?” “Well then, monks, listen.” [322]

7 a. Story of the Past: The cruel fowler

In the dispensation of the Buddha Kassapa, Tissa was a fowler. He used to catch birds in large numbers, and most of these he served to royalty. Most of those he did not give to royalty he used to sell. Fearing that if he killed and kept the birds he did not sell, they would rot, and desiring to prevent his captive birds from taking flight, he used to break their leg-bones and wing-bones and lay them aside, piling them in a heap. On the following day he would sell them. When he had too many, he would have some cooked also for himself.

One day, when well-flavored food had been cooked for him, a monk who was an Arahat stopped at the door of his house on his round for alms. When Tissa saw the Elder, he made his mind serene, and thought, “I have killed and eaten many living creatures. A noble Elder stands at my door, and an abundance of well-flavored food is in my house. I will therefore give him alms.” So he took the monk’s bowl and filled it, and having given him well-flavored food, saluted the monk with the Five Rests and said, “Reverend Sir, may I obtain the highest fruit of the Law you have seen.” Said the Elder, returning thanks, “So be it.” Monks, it was through the meritorious deed Tissa then did that this fruit accrued to him. It was because he broke the bones of birds that his members became diseased and his bones disintegrated. It was because he gave well-flavored food to the Arahat that he attained Arahatship.

III. 8. NANDA THE HERDSMAN

Whatever a hater may do to a hater. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence in the Kosala country with reference to Nanda the herdsman.

At Sāvatthi, we are told, the householder Anāthapiṇḍika had a herdsman named Nanda [323] who tended his herd of cattle. Nanda was rich, possessed of abundant wealth, possessed of ample means of enjoyment. We are told that, as did Keniya the ascetic of the matted locks 2 by retiring from the world, so did Nanda by tending herds and by managing the king’s revenue preserve his own wealth. Again and again Nanda, taking the five products of the cow, went to the house of Anāthapiṇḍika, beheld the Teacher, listened to the Law, and invited the Teacher to come to his own residence. For some time the Teacher waited for Nanda’s wisdom to ripen, and therefore refrained from going. But one day, making his round for alms, accompanied by a large company of monks, perceiving that his wisdom had ripened, he withdrew from the road and sat down under a certain tree near Nanda’s place of abode.

Nanda went to the Teacher, paid obeisance to him, greeted him in

1 Uddrm, iv. 3: 38-39. Text: N i. 322-325. 2 See Digha Commentary, i. 270.

a friendly manner, invited the Teacher to accept his hospitality, and for seven days gave the Congregation of Monks the choicest of the five products of the cow. On the seventh day the Teacher, returning thanks, delivered in orderly sequence the discourse on almsgiving and other discourses. At the conclusion of the discourse Nanda the herdsman was established in the Fruit of Conversion. Thereupon he took the bowl of the Teacher and accompanied him on his way for a considerable distance. Then said the Teacher, “Halt, disciple.” Straightway Nanda obeyed the Teacher’s command, paid obeisance to him, and turned back.

At that moment a hunter shot an arrow and killed Nanda. The monks saw this as they were returning, and went and said to the Teacher, “Reverend Sir, because of your coming here, Nanda the herdsman gave abundant gifts, accompanied you on your journey, and was killed as he returned. Had you not come, his death would not have occurred.” [324] The Teacher replied, “Monks, whether I had gone or not, whether Nanda had gone to the four cardinal points or to the four intermediate points, he could not possibly have escaped from death. For what neither thieves nor enemies do, this a corrupt mind attached to falsehood does to living creatures here in the world.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

42. Whatever a hater may do to a hater, or an enemy to an enemy,

Thoughts attached to falsehood will do a man yet more harm. [325]

The monks, however, did not ask the Teacher what the disciple had done in a former birth, and therefore the Teacher said nothing about it.