Buddhist Scriptures

by Edward Conze

Contents:

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Part 1 - The Teacher

1. The Buddha's Previous Lives

2. The Legend of the Buddha Shakyamuni

Part 2 - Doctrines

1. Morality
2. Meditation
3. Wisdom
4. Doctrinal Formulas
5. Doctrinal Disputes

Part 3 - Other Worlds And Future Times

1. Other Worlds
2. Maitreya, the future Buddha

Sources
Glossary Of Technical Terms

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Inside Cover Blurb

The Penguin Classics

Founder Editor (1944-64): E.V. Rieu
Editor: Betty Radice

EDWARD CONZE was born in London in 1904 and educated in

Germany. He gained his Ph.D. degree from Cologne University in 1928,
and then studied Indian and European comparative philosophy at the
Universities of Bonn and Hamburg. From 1933 until 1960 he lectured in
psychology, philosophy and comparative religion at London and Oxford
Universities. Between 1963 and 1973 he held a number of academic
appointments in England, Germany and the U.S.A., and was also a
Visiting Professor in the Department of Religious Studies in Lancaster, as
well as Vice-President of the Buddhist Society. His books include
Buddhism (1951), Buddhist Wisdom Books (1958), Buddhist Thought in
India (1962), Thirty Years of Buddhist Studies (1967) and many
translations from the Buddhist literature on Perfect Wisdom. Edward
Conze died in 1979.

Unesco Collection Of Representative Works

The Theravada texts in this volume have been accepted in the

series of translations from the literature of Burma, Ceylon, India, the
Khmer Republic, Laos and Thailand, jointly sponsored by the United
Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO), and
the National Commissions for UNESCO in these countries.

Acknowledgements

The thanks of the Editor and the publishers are due to the
following, who have kindly granted permission for the inclusion of
copyright material:

Bruno Cassirer Ltd, for two passages from Buddhist Texts,

translated respectively by Dr D. L. Snellgrove and by the Editor of the
present book; and for a passage from The Buddha's Law Among the
Birds, also translated by the latter;

George Allen & Unwin Ltd, for a passage from the Editor's
Buddhist Meditation;

Mr Christmas Humphreys, for a passage from D.T. Suzuki's Manual

of Zen Buddhism;
 The Pali Text Society, for a passage from Mr E.M. Hare's
translation of the Sutta-Nipata (published as Woven Cadences');

Mr R. Trevor Leggett, for his kindness in permitting the use of two

of his translations from the Japanese.

Introduction

Buddhism is divided into numerous traditional schools, each with

its own set of Scriptures. Information about these schools, their
divergences and agreements, can be found in my Buddhism (3rd edition,
1957), and its sequel, Buddhist Texts, an anthology which I edited in
1954, is arranged according to schools. This selection, by contrast,
concentrates on the central tradition of Buddhism, at the expense of the
more peripheral developments, on that which is common rather than that
which separates. It contains very little that any Buddhist, of whichever
school, would be prepared to reject.

The bulk of authoritative Buddhist writings is truly enormous, and

covers tens and hundreds of thousands of pages. The Pali Canon, which is
restricted to one single sect, fills 45 huge volumes in the complete
Siamese edition, exclusive of commentaries. The Chinese and Tibetan
Canons, on the other hand, include the work of all those schools which
left their mark on China or Tibet. In its most recent Japanese edition the
Chinese Scriptures consist of 100 volumes of 1,000 closely printed pages
each, while the Tibetan extend to 325 volumes. This colossal mass cries
out for selection, and at present no less than 17 anthologies have
appeared in English alone. There is room for many more. Measured by
the total wealth of the Buddhist tradition, each anthology is woefully
inadequate and inevitably omits far more than it includes.

The available material would, of course, be very much reduced if

we could restrict ourselves to the words of the Buddha himself, leaving
aside all later accretions. Alas, this cannot be done. Buddhist tradition
differs fundamentally from that of Christianity. In Christianity we can
distinguish an 'initial tradition', embodied in the 'New Testament', from a
'continuing tradition', which consists of the Fathers and doctors of the
Church, the decisions of councils and synods, and the pronouncements of
various hierarchies. Buddhists possess nothing that corresponds to the
'New Testament'. The 'continuing tradition' is all that is clearly attested.
The bulk of the selections in this book was written down between A.D.
100 and 400, in other words about 600 to 900 years after the Buddha's
demise. For the first five hundred years the Scriptures were orally
transmitted. They were written down only at the beginning of the
Christian era, because at that time the decline in faith threatened their
continued survival in the memories of the monks. Different schools wrote
down different things. Much of it was obviously composed centuries ago,
and some of it must represent the direct and actual sayings of the
Buddha himself. At present we have, however, no objective criterion
which would allow us to isolate the original gospel. All attempts to find it
are based on mere surmise, and the discussion of the subject generally
leads to nothing but ill will and fruitless disputes. Like the Common Law
of England, the Buddhist Law continues to make itself all the time. In
some periods, of course, the creative impulse is more evident than in
others, and the years between A.D. 100 and 400 were the golden age of
Buddhist literature.

A few words must now be said about the considerations which

have governed my choice of the extracts, as well as their treatment. First
of all, everything had to be readily intelligible. Generally I have preferred
texts intended for laymen to those addressed to monks, on the
assumption that the majority of my readers live in the world, and are
denied the benefits of monastic seclusion. This selection therefore
exhibits more of the humanity than of the profundity of the Scriptures.
The 'Questions of King Milinda', for instance, explain the basic tenets of
Buddhism in terms intelligible to the Greco-Bactrian king Menandros. The
explanations are less overloaded with scholastic complications than the
monkish treatises, but they also naturally go less deep. In fact, they
pursue each subject about as far as the average reader will be willing to
pursue it.

Further, aware that this is not the first attempt at a Buddhist

anthology, I have taken some care not to duplicate the work of my
predecessors. Other things being equal, I have been guided by the desire
to break fresh ground. For instance, the Dharmapada ('Sayings on
Dharma'), one of the most celebrated collections of sayings attributed to
the Buddha, is extant both in Pali and Sanskrit. The Pali Dhammapada
has so far been translated more than a dozen times. My two extracts (n I,
43, b) are, however, from the Sanskrit version (called Udanavarga), not
because I believe it to be older, more beautiful or in any way more
authoritative than the Pali, but simply because it is so much less known.
Likewise, the Japanese Zen sect falls into two main branches, Rinzai and
Soto. Prof. D. T. Suzuki's widely read works contain much information
about Rinzai. The Soto branch has been less favoured. I have thought it
useful to redress the balance by printing, with Mr T. Leggett's permission,
two translations expounding the Soto point of view.

Buddhism is often described as a purely rational religion, which

dispenses with faith, and for that reason appeals in our modern industrial
age to men who are averse to the mythological, the miraculous and the
occult. This assumption is not borne out by the actual writings of the
Buddhists. The temptation to make Buddhism appear more attractive by
including only those teachings which would not jar on the prejudices of
the present age, has been manfully resisted, and the reader will find
much to strain his belief. Likewise I did not feel called upon to present the
authors as either more consistent or conclusive (see page 190) than they
actually are. Obvious contradictions have been faithfully reproduced. A
man who on page 203 was described as 'weak and decrepit' has on page
204 become 'strong, with powerful arms'. On page 45 the Bodhisattva
says that his mother 'bore him with many pains', whereas on page 3 5 we
learn that her pregnancy left her unaffected. Everything is there as I
found it, warts and all.
 Some decision had to be made about the length of the passages
quoted. Very short extracts would have permitted me to cover many
more sources and viewpoints than I have actually done. But to silence
them almost the moment they have opened their mouths seems to me
rather lacking in respect to these holy men. The communication of this
sacred wisdom cannot be reduced to the level of a television
performance, with each speaker allotted one or two 'holy minutes'. It
would have pleased me best to include a few books in their entirety. The
limitations of space forced me to adopt the compromise of drawing
heavily on three books, composed in the first or second century of our
era. The 'Questions of King Milinda' record a discussion with a half-
European king, whose mentality is not unakin to our own. Five extracts,
comprising one-eighth of my book, come from that source. Ashvaghosha
was a poet who presented the message of the Buddha to the educated lay
public of his time. One-fourth of my book has been given to his treatment
of two central themes - the life of the Buddha (1 2) and the methods of
Buddhist Meditation (n 2, 3).

The style of my translations will be much criticized. Buddhist texts

have a characteristic diction of their own which must, I believe, to some
extent be respected. Those who want to read about Buddhism in
idiomatic English can do so by consulting books written by Englishmen.
Here we listen to Asiatics speaking in their own idiom about sacred
things. The translator ought, I think, to preserve some of the flavour of
the original, and his language must also do justice to its sacred character,
which sets it apart from the profane world and its ways. For Buddhists the
founder of their religion is the 'Lord Buddha", a god-like being who has
transcended the conditions of ordinary life, and his words are not those of
a mere man, but a voice issuing from another world. It is therefore quite
inconceivable that the Buddha should speak as ordinary people do. In
these Scriptures the Buddha's utterances always have a numinous diction
of their own, which departs from the standards of normal Indian usage.
Galling as it may be to this democratic age, I would have regarded it as a
sacrilege to reproduce His words in idiomatic English, The parallel with
the New Testament is quite misleading. It is written in the Koine, the
simple prose of the lower classes, whereas Buddhist writings, with few
exceptions, are full of the artifices of Sanskrit rhetoric. The nearest
parallel to Ashvaghosha's poem, for instance, would be Propertius or
Lucan.

Nor must we forget that the excessive subtleties of Buddhist

thought must on occasions lead to awkward English. To take just one
example, on page 163 we are told that the Buddhas 'awake' to
enlightenment. The present tense, 'awaken', would not do, because
inapplicable to the past and future Buddhas. In addition, the word
'awaken' would give the impression that there was a time when the
Buddhas were not yet awoken, that their 'awakening' is an action which
took place at some time. Such an assumption would be in conflict with
the finer points of Buddhist metaphysics. In search for a word which is, as
it were, suspended above past, future and present, and which also
implies neither action nor non-action, I have hit on 'awake' which is
grammatically awkward, but does no violence to the sense.

Far more intractable is the difficulty presented by the technical

terms which abound everywhere. In the original they are quite
inconspicuous, but in all translations into non-Indian languages they
stand out like so many foreign bodies. The Chinese either retained them
in Sanskrit, or coined some strange neologism. I have marked them with
capitals, and they are all explained in the Glossary at the end. The
explanations there cannot, of course, go very far. The baffled reader is
advised to read on without bothering overmuch about their exact
meaning. Only years of study would, in any case, disclose that in its full
precision.

Sanskrit words like Buddha, Nirvana, Bodhisattva and Dharma

occur on every page. They cannot possibly be eliminated. The word
'Dharma', in particular, is deliberately ambiguous, with up to ten
meanings. On page 198, for instance, we find 'dharmas' first used twice
in the sense of 'properties'; at its third occurrence it means 'teachings';
two lines later the meaning has shifted to 'events', only to move on to
'true facts' a little later on. In this case it would have been simple to
replace the term by its equivalents, but elsewhere two or three meanings
are simultaneously intended (so at 11 3, 3). The reader may sigh, and
wish that Buddhists had been more unambiguous in their use of words.
They obviously were not. In this respect, as in much else, they differ
radically from contemporary 'linguistic analysts'. Buddhist thinkers had
weighty reasons for preferring ambiguous, multivalent terms, and a mere
translator must respect their preference. To rephrase their sayings would
be commentary, not translation.

The authors of the Buddhist Scriptures were in fact unwilling, or

unable, to state their message without a liberal use of technical terms.
We may regret this, but to pulp the holy scriptures and regorge them in
colloquial, strictly non-technical, English, would only turn precise spiritual
teaching into vague and insipid uplift. The Scriptures as they stand cannot
be read without some mental effort, and they demand a minimum of
intellectual agility and attainment.

Where accuracy and readability conflict, I have chosen to be

accurate. This may excuse such clumsy terms as 'conditioned co-
production', or the rendering of jnana by 'cognition'. Sanskrit has
numerous words for 'knowledge', to which nothing corresponds in our
own rather impoverished vocabulary. Jnana is a knowledge which,
motivated by the desire for emancipation, penetrates to the real nature of
things. For an equivalent we must draw on Latin for 'cognition' or Greek
for 'gnosis'. On page 206 it would have been more elegant to say of the
father that he 'saved the lives' of his sons. But the text clearly has it that
he 'presented them with life', and the spiritual message could be retained
here and elsewhere only by a certain harshness of style. These works
were intended for spiritual guidance rather than entertainment. All the
Pali, Sanskrit, and Tibetan texts have been newly translated, partly to
ensure uniformity in the rendering of the technical terms, and partly to
bring them up to the standard of our present knowledge.

Much of the best Buddhist writing is in verse. Even a great poet

would find it hard to reproduce it in English verse without considerable
distortion. Occasionally I have tried to mark verse as such by using a
rather hobbling loose rhythm. Mostly I have translated it as prose,
thereby shirking the issue. In any case rhyme, unlike the Indian shloka,
or the Greek and Latin hexameter, is not a suitable medium for didactic
poetry of high quality. Pope's Essay on Man is almost the only example
we can point to, and it is a warning example. A great deal of Indian
thought, on the contrary, is enshrined in memorial verses of almost
unbelievable precision.

The Introductory Notes to the different chapters are kept as brief

as possible. They only indicate the theme and source of the extracts.
Readers must then wrestle with them for themselves. An explanation in
modern terms of what the Sages of old have to tell us would, once begun,
soon crowd them out altogether.

As with all my books, Miss I. B. Horner, Hon. Secretary of the Pali

Text Society, has selflessly helped me with the selection and translation
of the Pali items. The kindness of Mr Trevor Leggett, of the Budokwai and
Shanti Sadan, has enabled me to present Zen Buddhism from a new
angle.

It is furthermore a pleasure to me to thank those publishers and

authors who have appreciably lightened my burden by allowing me to
reprint material which has appeared elsewhere before. Among them I
must single out Daisetz Teitaro Suzuki, because to him I owe a debt of
gratitude which can never be repaid. When, like others before me, in the
middle of my journey through life I had strayed away from the right road,
it was he who re-opened my eyes to the splendour of the Buddha's
message. Whatever is good in this book is Suzuki's. The rest is my own.

Edward Conze
London, June 1957

Part One - The Teacher

1 - The Buddha's Previous Lives

 It is easy to see that we could not have any 'Buddhism' unless a
Buddha had revealed it. We must, however, bear in mind that 'Buddha' is
not the name of a person, but designates a type. 'Buddha' is Sanskrit for
someone who is 'fully enlightened' about the nature and meaning of life.
Numerous 'Buddhas' appear successively at suitable intervals. Buddhism
sees itself not as the record of the sayings of one man who lived in
Northern India about 500 B.C. His teachings are represented as the
uniform result of an often repeated irruption of spiritual reality into this
world.

Buddhists assume that there are two kinds of time — 'historical

time' measured in years or centuries, and 'cosmic time' measured in
aeons (see page 31 for the length of an aeon). A diagram will help to
clarify the situation:

In this parabola the 'historical time', which I reckon as extending

from roughly 3000 B.C. to A.D. 3000 (a few thousand years here or there
make little difference), is shown by a thick line, not because it is the most
real, but because it appears as more real to us in our present perspective.
Buddhas are marked by stars on the line of time. About 500 B.C. we have
one 'historical Buddha', called Shakyamuni, who began to prepare himself
for his task aeons ago under Dipankara, his twenty-fourth predecessor.
He in his turn will be succeeded by Maitreya, about whom we shall hear
more in un. Under Dipankara, Shakyamuni decided to become a Buddha,
and thereby turned into what is known as a 'Bodhisattva'. The logic of the
scheme is explained in our selection No. 3, which is taken from
Nagarjuna's (c. A.D. TOO) great commentary to the 'Perfection of
Wisdom', although it does not give his own views, but those of the
Sarvastivadin school, to the adherents of which he refers as 'the disciples
of Katyayaniputra'.

Furthermore, I have illustrated the career of the Bodhisattva up to

his last birth by a few typical events, (I) If the reader wishes to begin
where the Buddha himself began, he must start with the turning point
marked by the meeting with Dipankara, of which we have many accounts.
The one presented here is from the Mahavastu, 'The Great Event', a
biography of the Buddha due to a Hinayana school (the Lokottaravadins)
which stood very near to the Mahayana. Then there are two famous
episodes, the one illustrating the Bodhisattva's boundless generosity, the
other his boundless patience. Both again have been told and re-told
through the ages. (2a) The story of the hungry tigress if from the
Suvarnaprabhasa, the 'Splendour of Gold', a Mahayana Sutra slowly
composed over many centuries. (2b) The other story, of the Preacher of
Patience, is told in the words of Aryasura, a gifted poet, who about A.D.
200 composed the Jatakamala, or 'Garland of Birth-stories'. The state of a
Buddha is one of the highest possible perfection. It seems self-evident to
Buddhists that an enormous amount of preparation over many lives is
needed to reach it, and it is therefore only natural that our first chapter
should be devoted to this period of slow gestation.

1. Shakyamunl's Meeting With Dipankara

Once upon a time there lived a certain learned man who was well
versed in brahminic lore, and who taught it to 500 young Brahmins. One
of his pupils was Megha, a young Brahmin who was learned, wise,
judicious, and of keen intelligence. Before long he had learned all the
mantras by heart. After completing his study of the Vedas, he left the
Himalayas and went down into the country below, in order to find the fee
due to his teacher. With his staff, water-pot, sunshade, sandals, and
mantle he entered many villages, cities, and towns, and the confines of
each became free of affliction and calamity through Megha's spiritual
power. On his way he begged for money, and someone gave him 500
coins.

He then decided to go to the royal city Dipavati, in order to see

the city of a universal monarch, made of the seven precious things, and
delightful to behold. When he entered the city, he saw that it was in
festive array. He wondered to himself, 'What holiday do we have here to-
day, or what dramatic performance, or what festival? Perhaps king
Arcimat has heard that the young Brahmin Megha, on completing his
study of the Vedas, has come down from the Himalayas and is on his way
to the royal city of Dipavati! Hence this gay adornment of the city!' And
as he went on he looked for someone he could question.

Just then a young Brahmin girl came along, attractive, good-

looking, reliable, gentle, and modest. She held a water jug and seven
lotus flowers in her hands. Megha asked her, 'Is there a festival in the city
to-day?' She replied with these verses:

You cannot, young man, be a native of this place.

A stranger from another city you must be.
You do not know that there is coming to this town
The Benefactor of the World, the Bringer of the Light!
Dipankara, the leader of the world, the son
Of king Arcimat, He, a greatly famous Buddha,
Is drawing near. To honour him this city
Is decked in gay and festive garb.

Megha asked her: 'How much did you pay for those seven lotus
flowers?' She replied: Tive of them I bought for 500 coins; two were
given to me by a friend.' Megha said to her: 'I will give you 500 coins.
You then give me those five lotuses, and with them I shall worship
Dipankara, the Lord. You can honour him with the remaining two.' She
replied:

'You can have those five lotuses, but only on condition that for all
future time you take me for your wife. Wherever you may be reborn,
there I shall be your wife, and you my husband.' Megha replied: 'My heart
is set on supreme enlightenment. How can I think of marriage?' She
answered: 'No need to desist from your quest 1 I shall not hinder you!'
So Megha consented, and said, 'In exchange for those lotuses, I take you
for my wife. I will be able to worship Dipankara, the Lord, and continue to
strive for supreme enlightenment.' He gave her the 500 coins, and took
the five lotus flowers. A sublime joy and exaltation had taken hold of his
body when he had heard the maiden speak of the Buddha.

Meanwhile the Lord had set out for Dipavati, accompanied by

80,000 monks, and by king Arcimat with 80,000 of his vassals and with
many thousands of noblemen, recluses and sectaries. Megha saw
Dipankara, the Lord, coming from afar. The Lord's body had the thirty-
two Marks of a superman, and was adorned with the eighty Subsidiary
characteristics. He was endowed with the eighteen Special dharmas of a
Buddha, mighty with the ten Powers of a Tathagata, and in possession of
the four Grounds of self-confidence. He was like a great Naga, and had
done all he had to do. His senses were turned inwards, and his mind did
not turn to outer things. He had won the stable assurance of Dharma, his
senses were calmed, his mind was calmed, he had reached perfect self-
control and tranquillity, like a well-guarded Naga, who has conquered his
senses, transparent as a pool, clear and unperturbed. He was beautiful
and good to look at. No one ever got tired of seeing him, and there was
nothing ungracious about him. The light which shone from his body
extended to one league.

When he had seen the Buddha, Megha identified himself with him,
and said to himself: 'I also will be a Buddha in the world.' He then recited
these verses:
 'Long is the time before this vision could arise.
Long is the time before Tathagatas appear.
Long is the time until my vow shall be fulfilled:
A Buddha I'll become, there is no doubt on that!'

Thereupon Megha, thrilled throughout his whole body, and his

mind filled with sublime joy and exaltation, threw those five lotus flowers
towards Dipankara, the Lord. The flowers remained suspended in the air,
and formed a circle round the Lord's radiant head. The young Brahmin
girl also threw her two lotuses. They also stood suspended in the air, and
so did those thrown by other people. This was one of the miracles by
which the Buddhas impress people, to make them listen to the truth. The
Buddha sustained this canopy of flowers which stood above him in the air,
so as to educate beings, and to bring joy and happiness to Megha, the
young Brahmin. And this canopy was lovely and fair to behold, with four
pillars and entrances, garlanded with strips of coloured cloth.

When Megha saw these lotus flowers standing all round the Lord's
radiant halo, and how lovely and pleasing they were, his body was
flooded with great joy and gladness, and a sublime decision arose in his
mind. He put his water-pot on one side, spread out his deer-skin cloak,
threw himself down at the feet of Dipankara, the Lord, wiped the soles of
his feet with his hair, and aroused within himself the following thought:
'Ahl May I too at some future period become a Tathagata, with all the
attributes of a perfect Buddha, as this Lord Dipankara is just now I May I
too turn the wheel of the highest Dharma, as this Lord Dipankara does
just now! Having crossed, may I lead others across; set free, may I free
others; comforted, may I comfort others - as does this Lord Dipankara!
May I become like him, for the weal and happiness of the many, out of
compassion for the world, for the sake of a great multitude of living
beings, for their weal and happiness, be they gods or men!'

Dipankara, the Lord, with a Buddha's supreme knowledge, knew

how ready Megha, the young Brahmin, was to turn towards
enlightenment. He knew that his past store of merit, as well as his recent
vow, were without fault or defect, without blemish or scar. So he now
predicted his future enlightenment, in these words: 'You shall be, young
Brahmin, in a future period, after an immeasurable and incalculable aeon,
in Kapilavastu, the city of the Shakyans, a Tathagata by the name of
Shakyamuni, an Arhat, a fully enlightened Buddha, perfect in knowledge
and conduct, well-gone, a world-knower, unsurpassed, a leader of men to
be tamed, a teacher of gods and men. Like me you will have a body
adorned with the thirty-two marks of a superman, and with the eighty
subsidiary characteristics. You will have the eighteen special dharmas of a
Buddha, be mighty with the ten powers of a Tathagata, confident with his
four grounds of self-confidence 1 Having crossed, you will lead others
across; freed, you will free others; comforted, you will comfort others;
having won final Nirvana, you will help others to win it - as I do just now
I You will turn the wheel of the highest Dharma, preside over a
harmoniously united body of Disciples, and both gods and men will listen
to you and believe. What I am now, that you will become one day - for
the weal and happiness of the many, out of compassion for the world, for
the sake of a great multitude of living beings, for their weal and
happiness, be they gods or men!'

2a. The Bodhisattva And The Hungry Tigress

The Buddha told the following story to Ananda: 'Once upon a time,
in the remote past, there lived a king, Maharatha by name. He was rich in
gold, grain, and chariots, and his power, strength, and courage were
irresistible. He had three sons who were like young gods to look at. They
were named Mahapranada, Mahadeva, and Mahasattva.

One day the king went for relaxation into a park. The princes,
delighted with the beauties of the park and the flowers which could be
seen everywhere, walked about here and there until they came to a large
thicket of bamboos. There they dismissed their servants, in order to rest
for a while. But Mahapranada said to his two brothers: 'I feel rather afraid
here. There might easily be some wild beasts about, and they might do
us harm.' Mahadeva replied: 'I also feel ill at ease.
 Though it is not my body I fear for. It is the thought of separation
from those I love which terrifies me.' Finally, Mahasattva said:

'No fear feel I, nor any sorrow either,

In this wide, lonesome wood, so dear to Sages.
My heart is filled with bursting joy,
For soon I'll win the highest boon.'

As the princes strolled about in the solitary thicket they saw a

tigress, surrounded by five cubs, seven days old. Hunger and thirst had
exhausted the tigress, and her body was quite weak. On seeing her,
Mahapranada called out: 'The poor animal suffers from having given birth
to the seven cubs only a week ago I If she finds nothing to eat, she will
either eat her own young, or die from hunger!' Mahasattva replied: 'How
can this poor exhausted creature find food?' Mahapranada said: 'Tigers
live on fresh meat and warm blood.' Mahadeva said: 'She is quite
exhausted, overcome by hunger and thirst, scarcely alive and very weak.
In this state she cannot possibly catch any prey. And who would sacrifice
himself to preserve her life?' Mahapranada said: 'Yes, self-sacrifice is so
difficult!' Mahasattva replied: 'It is difficult for people like us, who are so
fond of our lives and bodies, and who have so little intelligence. It is not
at all difficult, however, for others, who are true men, intent on benefiting
their fellow-creatures, and who long to sacrifice themselves. Holy men
are born of pity and compassion. Whatever the bodies they may get, in
heaven or on earth, a hundred times will they undo them, joyful in their
hearts, so that the lives of others may be saved.'

Greatly agitated, the three brothers carefully watched the tigress

for some time, and then went towards her. But Maha-sattva thought to
himself: 'Now the time has come for me to sacrifice myself! For a long
time I have served this putrid body and given it beds and clothes, food
and drink, and conveyances of all kinds. Yet it is doomed to perish and
fall down, and in the end it will break up and be destroyed. How much
better to leave this ungrateful body of one's own accord in good time! It
cannot subsist for ever, because it is like urine which must come out. To-
day I will use it for a sublime deed. Then it will act for me as a boat which
 helps me to cross the ocean of birth and death. When I have renounced
this futile body, a mere ulcer, tied to countless becomings, burdened with
urine and excrement, unsubstantial like foam, full of hundreds of
parasites - then I shall win the perfectly pure Dharma-body, endowed
with hundreds of virtues, full of such qualities as trance and wisdom,
immaculate, free from all Substrata, changeless and without sorrow.' So,
his heart filled with boundless compassion, Mahasattva asked his brothers
to leave him alone for a while, went to the lair of the tigress, hung his
cloak on a bamboo, and made the following vow:

'For the weal of the world I wish to win enlightenment,

incomparably wonderful. From deep compassion I now give away my
body, so hard to quit, unshaken in my mind. That enlightenment I shall
now gain, in which nothing hurts and nothing harms, and which the Jina's
sons have praised. Thus shall I cross to the Beyond of the fearful ocean of
becoming which fills the triple world!'

The friendly prince then threw himself down in front of the tigress.
But she did nothing to him. The Bodhisattva noticed that she was too
weak to move. As a merciful man he had taken no sword with him. He
therefore cut his throat with a sharp piece of bamboo, and fell down near
the tigress. She noticed the Bodhisattva's body all coveted with blood,
and in no time ate up all the flesh and blood, leaving only the bones.

'It was I, Ananda, who at that time and on that occasion was that prince
Mahasattva.'

2b. The Bodhisattva As The Preacher Of Patience

Nothing is indeed unbearable to those who have made forbearance

all their own, and who are great in the correct appreciation of the true
nature of things. This is shown by the following story: At one time the
Bodhisattva was an ascetic, eminent for his moral conduct, his learning,
his tranquillity, his self-discipline, and the control he had over his mind.
He had understood that life in the home is indeed attended by a great
many faults and calamities: that it is governed by a perpetual concern
with material gain and sensual pleasure, and in consequence is not
conducive to tranquillity; that it is constantly assailed by the dust and dirt
of passions, such as greed, hate, delusion, impatience, anger, self-
intoxication, conceit, and niggardliness; that it is apt to reduce the ability
to maintain religious standards, and that it offers a field for covetousness
and unfriendliness to others; and so, beset by opportunities for bad
actions, it offers little scope for Dharma. The homeless life, on the other
hand, he had found to be a happy one, for it is free from those faults,
having abandoned all concern with material property and sense-objects.
He had taken it upon himself to observe patience always and under all
circumstances, he often spoke in praise of patience, and this was the
virtue which he continually stressed in his expositions of Dharma. People
in consequence invented for him the name 'Kshantivadin' ('Preacher of
Patience'), and his original family name went quite out of use.

That great-souled man lived in the middle of a forest, in a place

delightful for its solitude, and beautiful like a lovely garden - with flowers
and fruits at all seasons and a pond of pure water adorned with pink and
blue lotuses. And his presence conferred on this place the auspiciousness
of a hermitage. The deities who inhabited that grove thought highly of
him, and people often visited him in quest of spiritual bliss and spiritual
virtue. And on this multitude of visitors he bestowed the supreme favour
of expounding the subject of patience in suitable sermons which
gladdened their ears as well as their hearts.

Now it so happened that the king of that part of the world,

oppressed by the summer's heat, set his mind on playing in the water, a
very pleasant thing to do at that time of the year. So with his harem he
betook himself to that forest, which had all the qualities one looks for in a
park, and amused himself to his heart's content. Then, tired from all this
sporting about, and drowsy, he went to his splendid couch, which was
luxuriously kid out, and fell asleep.

Thereupon the women, enchanted in their hearts by the beauties

of the forest and unable to fill their eyes sufficiently with them, saw in the
withdrawal of the king an opportunity to ramble about in casual groups,
the noise of their rattling ornaments blending with the buzzing sound of
their chatter. Roaming through the enchanting forest, the king's women
came to Kshantivadin's hermitage, went into it, and their eyes fell on that
most excellent sage, a sight making for peace and happiness. There he
sat cross-legged under a tree, auspicious and meritorious to behold, the
visible manifestation of Dharma. His deep profundity inspired awe, he
shone with the lustre of his austerities, and he radiated a splendid
stillness because, as a result of his diligent practice of trance, his senses
remained unmoved even in the presence of sublime objects of meditation.
The glow of his spirituality subdued the minds of the royal wives; when
they saw him they at once shed their usual boisterousness, affectation,
and frivolity, and adopted a disciplined, modest, and respectful
demeanour. He in his turn addressed them with pleasant words of
welcome, etc., and showed them the civility due to guests. Thereafter, he
extended to them the hospitality of the Dharma, and, in response to their
queries, talked to them in terms which womenfolk can easily grasp,
careful to illustrate his meaning by examples and similes.

Meanwhile the king's sleep had dispelled his fatigue, and he woke
up. With a frown on his face he asked the female attendants who guarded
his couch, 'Where are my wives?' The attendants replied: 'They are now,
your Majesty, embellishing some other part of this forest. They have gone
off to see what else it contains.' On hearing this, the king rose from his
couch, and, accompanied by his female warriors and eunuchs, marched
off into the wood. To get to the hermitage he had only to follow the path
which his wives had traced out in their juvenile wantonness, and which
was marked by bunches of flowers, piles of twigs, and the red dye of
betel leaves on the ground. But no sooner had the king seen
Kshantivadin, that great seer, surrounded by his royal wives, than he was
seized by frenzied wrath. This was due to the bias he felt against him as a
result of an enmity nursed during previous lives. In addition, drowsiness
still deranged his composure and jealousy dulled his judgement. He had
but little power to appreciate the true nature of the situation, and in
disregard of all the rules of self-control and polite behaviour, he
submitted to the evils of anger. Sweat broke out over his body, his colour
changed, he trembled all over, he frowned, and his eyes, dark red,
became dull, revolved, and stared. Gone were all his loveliness, grace,
and charm. He shook his golden bracelets, rubbed his be-ringed hands,
and scoldingly said to the best of Seers: 'Hey, you!

Who is it that scorns our Majesty,

by lifting his eyes to our harem wives?
Concealed in the garb of a Muni -
a low-class meatseller's behaviour!'

And scornfully the king continued: 'Now you will have an

opportunity to show your passion for patience!' And, as one cuts a lotus
from its stalk, so he cut off with his sharp sword the Sage's right hand,
which in a prohibitive gesture was slightly extended towards him, with its
long and delicate fingers raised aloft.

Though his hand was cut off, he yet felt no pain,

so firm his adherence to patience;
His pain lay in seeing the terrible fate this butcher,
accustomed to pleasure, would meet in the future.

But the Bodhisattva kept silent, because he regarded the king as

someone who was beyond help and who could not possibly be won over
by kindness. He sorrowed for him as for a patient whom the doctors have
given up. The king, however, spoke to him in a threatening manner:

And so your body will be carved to pieces till you die!

Stop this pose of piety! Your roguish cunning shall be stopped!

But the Bodhisattva said nothing, because he knew him for a

person who could not be won over by affection, and recognized that he
would persist anyhow. So the king in the same manner cut off the other
hand of that great-souled man, and thereafter both his arms, his ears and
nose, and his feet.

No sorrow and no anger felt the Muni, when that sharp sword his
frame demolished.
 This engine of the body must run down, he knew, and years of
practice had accustomed him to patience.

And when he saw his limbs drop off, this holy man, unbroken, firm
and patient, felt but exaltation, No pain at all.

What gave him anguish was to see the king so far estranged from
Dharma.

Those who are great in true insight, whose minds are governed by
pity, Heed not the ill that befalls them, but that which troubles their
fellows.

But the king, having done this terrible deed, forthwith succumbed
to a violent fever; He rushed from the garden, and the great earth,
opening wide, devoured him.

The best of Sages, however, who, thanks to his reliance on

forbearance, had throughout remained firm and unshaken in his fortitude,
ascended to heaven, as a temporary reward for his patience.

3. Outline Of A Bodhisattva's Progress

The disciples of Katyayaniputra in their Abhidhamma teach as

follows:

Q: What is a Bodhisattva?

A. Someone is called a Bodhisattva if he is certain to become a

Buddha, a 'Buddha' being a man who has first enlightened himself and
will thereafter enlighten others. The word 'Bodhi' refers here to that
wisdom of holy men which has reached the stage where the Outflows
have dried up. A 'Bodhi-being' is a being who is born of that wisdom, and
is protected and served by the wise.
 The question now arises from what date onward he can justifiably
be called a 'Bodhisattva'. This change from an ordinary being to a Bodhi-
being takes place when his mind has reached the stage when it can no
longer turn back on enlightenment. Also, he has by then gained five
advantages: he is no more reborn in the States of woe, but always
among gods and men; he is never again born in poor or low-class
families; he is always a male, and never a woman; he is always well-built,
and free from physical defects; he can remember his past lives, and no
more forgets them again.

Alternatively they teach that he deserves to be called a

Bodhisattva from the time that he undertakes the deeds which lead to the
production of the thirty-two marks of the superman.

Q: When do these deeds take place?

A: After the three incalculable aeons which he has to go through

first - in the aeons which follow on them.

Q: How long is an incalculable aeon?

A: 'Incalculable' is a number so high that neither human nor

heavenly mathematicians can calculate it. It is, in any case, more than 10
followed by 27 noughts. In the first incalculable aeon he does not yet
know whether he will become a Buddha, or not; in the second he knows
he will be a Buddha, but does not dare to say so openly; in the third he
knows for certain that one day he will be a Buddha, and fearlessly
proclaims that fact to the world.

As for the Buddha Shakyamuni, in his first incalculable aeon he

has honoured 75,000 Buddhas, beginning with the Buddha Maha-
Shakyamuni and ending with Ratnashikhin. At the end of it the
Bodhisattva was no more reborn as a woman. In his second incalculable
aeon he honoured 76,000 Buddhas, the last of whom was Dipankara. At
the end of it the Bodhisattva offered seven blue lotuses to the Buddha
Dipankara, and protected him from the mud with the help of his antelope
skin and his own hair. And the Buddha Dipankara on that occasion made
this prediction: 'At a future time you will be a Buddha, by the name of
Shakyamuni!' In the third incalculable aeon the Bodhisattva honoured
70,000 Buddhas, ending with Vipashyin. And after that, during the
following hundred aeons he did the deeds which were later rewarded by
the thirty-two Marks of the superman. Each one of these marks is due to
a hundred acts of merit.

Q: How great is each of these (3,200) merits?

A: Some say that it equals the merit which gives a universal

monarch his sovereignty over the four continents. Others say that it
equals the merit which gave Shakra his sovereignty over the gods. Others
say that it is as great as the merit which produces the happiness of all
beings, with the exception of that of a Bodhisattva who is near
enlightenment. Others again say that this merit is immeasurable,
incalculable, and incomparable, and that only a Buddha can know it.
Normally the Bodhisattvas take a hundred aeons to realize the thirty-two
marks. Shakyamuni, however, succeeded in doing so after ninety-one
aeons. During those ninety-one aeons, which go from the Buddha
Vipashyin to the Buddha Kashyapa, he practised the six perfections.

Q: Which are these six perfections?

A.: They are the perfections of giving, morality, patience, vigour,

meditation, and wisdom. On numerous occasions the Bodhisattva gave
away all he had, including his own body, without ever regretting it. As
king Shibi he rescued a pigeon from a hawk, and to compensate the hawk
joyfully gave him of his own flesh. He observed the moral rules, and lost
his life rather than offend against them. This happened, for instance,
when he was king Sutasoma, who kept his word to the Demon king, who
had let him out on the promise that he would return. He showed his
patience when he felt no ill-will whatsoever although men might insult,
beat, or burn him, or cut him into pieces. When he was the Preacher of
Patience, he remained inwardly unmoved when mutilated by the king's
servants (as told on pp. 26-30). He also showed indefatigable energy,
and the vigour of his mind never faltered. On one occasion, for instance,
he praised the Buddha Pushya seven days and nights, standing on one
leg and without moving his eye-lids. He became a master of all the
trances. For instance, when he was the seer Shankhacarya his trance was
so deep that his breath ceased to go in or out; his hair was then braided
up like a conch shell, a bird laid her eggs in it, and the Bodhisattva
deliberately remained immobile until the young could fly away. And finally
his great mind became proficient in wisdom and attentive analysis. When
he was the Brahmin Govinda, minister of a great king, he distributed after
the king's death the kingdom evenly among his successors.

Under the Buddha Kashyapa the Bodhisattva, then called

Jyotipala, led a religious life, strictly observed the moral rules, and as a
result of his virtues was reborn in the Tushita heaven. There he decided
on his last rebirth, and in due course descended from the Tushita heaven
into his mother's womb.

2 - The Legend Of The Buddha Shakyamuni

We now come to the life of the 'historical Buddha', who is

distinguished from other Buddhas as 'Shakya-muni', the 'Sage from the
tribe of the Shakyas'. His biography, or legend, is an important
constituent of Buddhist beliefs. It is curious that the canonical writings
nowhere recount his life from birth to death. The first, and in many ways
the finest, full-length biography is the work of the first century Indian
poet Ashvaghosha. It is called the Buddhacarita, or 'The Acts of the
Buddha'.

The first 13 cantos alone are preserved in Sanskrit; for the

remaining 75 we must rely on the Tibetan translation, which I have
consulted in Weller's edition, and the Narthang Tanjur of the India Office
'Library. The best English translation, which has superseded all the
others, is that of E. H. Johnston (1936), though the second half is hidden
away in a Danish periodical, the Acta Orientalia (xv, I937). The book's
lengthy digressions are in keeping with Sanskrit poetical conventions.
Canto v, for instance, describes in great detail the spectacle of the women
sleeping in the palace, and Canto XII gives a valuable outline of the
Samkhya system. I have condensed the whole into a manageable size,
but have nearly always kept scrupulously to the author's words, though
his way of expressing himself must strike our taste occasionally as rather
artificial. The value of Ashvaghosha's account lies in its freedom from
sectarian bias. Scholars still dispute which school he actually belonged to.
I have concentrated on those scenes of the sacred drama which have
impressed themselves most forcibly and extensively on the imagination of
the Buddhist community. and which the art of Asia has over and over
again depicted in stone, on silk and on canvas. To decide which of these
events are credible or 'historical' was none of my functions, and would
have been an unwarranted interference with the tradition.

1. The Birth Of The 'Bodhisattva

There lived once upon a time a king of the Shakyas, a scion of the
solar race, whose name was Shuddhodana. He was pure in conduct, and
beloved of the Shakyas like the autumn-moon. He had a wife, splendid,
beautiful, and steadfast, who was called the Great Maya, from her
resemblance to Maya the Goddess. These two tasted of love's delights,
and one day she conceived the fruit of her womb, but without any
defilement, in the same way in which knowledge joined to trance bears
fruit. Just before her conception she had a dream. A white king elephant
seemed to enter her body, but without causing her any pain. So Maya,
queen of that god-like king, bore in her womb the glory of his dynasty.
But she remained free from the fatigues, depressions, and fancies which
usually accompany pregnancies. Pure herself, she longed to withdraw into
the pure forest, in the loneliness of which she could practise trance. She
set her heart on going to Lumbini, a delightful grove, with trees of every
kind, like the grove of Citraratha in Indra's Paradise. She asked the king
to accompany her, and so they left the city, and went to that glorious
grove.
 When the queen noticed that the time of her delivery was
approaching, she went to a couch overspread with an awning, thousands
of waiting-women looking on with joy in their hearts. The propitious
constellation of Pushya shone brightly when a son was born to the queen,
for the weal of the world. He came out of his mother's side, without
causing her pain or injury. His birth was as miraculous as that of Aurva,
Prithu, Mandhatri, and Kakshivat, heroes of old who were born
respectively from the thigh, from the hand, the head or the armpit. So he
issued from the womb as befits a Buddha. He did not enter the world in
the usual manner, and he appeared like one descended from the sky. And
since he had for many aeons been engaged in the practice of meditation,
he now was born in full awareness, and not thoughtless and bewildered
as other people are. When born, he was so lustrous and steadfast that it
appeared as if the young sun had come down to earth. And yet, when
people gazed at his dazzling brilliance, he held their eyes like the moon.
His limbs shone with the radiant hue of precious gold, and lit up the space
all around. Instantly he walked seven steps, firmly and with long strides.
In that he was like the constellation of the Seven Seers. With the bearing
of a lion he surveyed the four quarters, and spoke these words full of
meaning for the future: Tor enlightenment I was born, for the good of all
that lives. This is the last time that I have been born into this world of
becoming.'

2. Asita's visit

Then Asita, the great seer, came to the palace of the ruler of the
Shakyas, thirsting for the true Dharma. He knew of the birth of him who
would put an end to birth, for in his trance he had perceived the
miraculous signs which had attended it. In wonderment he looked upon
the wondrous royal babe, and noticed that the soles of his feet were
marked with wheels, that his fingers and toes were joined by webs, that a
circle of soft down grew between his eyebrows, and that his testicles were
withdrawn like those of an elephant. Lying on his nurse's lap the child
seemed to Asita to be like Skanda,' son of Agni, on the lap of his divine
mother. With tears flickering on his eyelashes the seer sighed, and looked
up to the highest heaven.

He then explained his agitation to the king in these words: 'It is

not for him that I am perturbed, but I am alarmed because disappointed
for myself. For the time has come when I must pass away, just when he
is born who shall discover the extinction of birth, which is so hard to win.
Uninterested in worldly affairs he will give up his kingdom. By strenuous
efforts he will win that which is truly real. His gnosis will blaze forth like
the sun, and remove the darkness of delusion from this world. The world
is carried away in distress on the flooded river of suffering, which the
foam of disease over-sprays, which has old age for its surge and rushes
along with the violent rush of death: across this river he will ferry the
world with the mighty boat of gnosis. The stream of his most excellent
Dharma shall flow along with the current of wisdom, banked in by firm
morality, cooled by Transic concentration, and holy works shall cover it
like melodious ducks: the world of the living, tormented with the thirst of
its cravings, will drink from this stream. To those who are tormented with
pains and hemmed in by their worldly concerns, who are lost in the desert
tracks of Samsara, he shall proclaim the path which leads to salvation, as
to travellers who have lost their way. Creatures are scorched by the fire
of greed, which feeds on sense-objects as its fuel: he will refresh them
with the rain of the Dharma, which is copious like the rain from a mighty
cloud when the summer's burning heat is over. With the irresistible
hammer of the most excellent true Dharma he will break down the door
which imprisons living beings with the bolt of craving and the panels of
dark delusion, and thus he will enable them to escape. The world is
entangled in the snares of self-delusion, it is overwhelmed by suffering, it
has no refuge: after he has won full enlightenment this boy, then a king
of Dharma, will free the world from its bonds.

'You, O king, have no reason to grieve for him. In this world of

men we should grieve for those only who cannot hear this perfect
Dharma, usually either because they are too deluded, or too intoxicated
with sensuous pleasures. I myself fall short of the perfection required,
and the final goal still eludes me. Through my proficiency in the trances I
can take up my abode in the highest heaven. But even that I must regard
as a misfortune, since I shall not be able to hear this Dharma.'

3. The Bodhisattva's youth and marriage

Queen Maya could not bear the joy which she felt at the sight of
her son's majesty, which equalled that of the wisest seers. So she went to
heaven, to dwell there. Her sister, his aunt, then brought up the prince as
if he were her own son. And the prince grew up, and became more
perfect every day.

His childhood passed without serious illness, and in due course he

reached maturity. In a few days he acquired the knowledge appropriate
to his station in life, which normally it takes years to learn. Since the king
of the Shakyas had, however, heard from Asita, the great seer, that the
supreme beatitude would be the prince's future goal, he tried to tie him
down by sensual pleasures, so that he might not go away into the forest.
He selected for him from a family of long-standing unblemished
reputation a maiden, Yashodhara by name, chaste and outstanding for
her beauty, modesty, and good breeding, a true Goddess of Fortune in
the shape of a woman. And the prince, wondrous in his flashing beauty,
took his delight with the bride chosen for him by his father, as it is told of
Indra and Shaci in the Ramayana.

The monarch, however, decided that his son must never see
anything that could perturb his mind, and he arranged for him to live in
the upper storeys of the palace, without access to the ground. Thus he
passed his time in the upper part of the palace, which was as brilliantly
white as rain clouds in autumn, and which looked like a mansion of the
Gods shifted to the earth. It contained rooms suited to each season, and
the melodious music of the female attendants could be heard in them.
This palace was as brilliant as that of Shiva on Mount Kailasa. Soft music
came from the gold-edged tambourines which the women tapped with
their finger-tips, and they danced as beautifully as the choicest heavenly
nymphs. They entertained him with soft words, tremulous calls, wanton
swayings, sweet laughter, butterfly kisses, and seductive glances. Thus
he became a captive of these women who were well versed in the subject
of sensuous enjoyment and indefatigable in sexual pleasure. And it did
not occur to him to come down from the palace to the ground, just as
people who in reward for their virtues live in a palace in heaven are
content to remain there, and have no desire to descend to the earth.

In the course of time the fair-bosomed Yashodhara bore to the son

of Shuddhodana a son, who was named Rahula. It must be remembered
that all the Bodhisattvas, those beings of quite incomparable spirit, must
first of all know the taste of the pleasures which the senses can give. Only
then, after a son has been born to them, do they depart to the forest.
Through the accumulated effects of his past deeds the Bodhisattva
possessed in himself the root cause of enlightenment, but he could reach
it only after first enjoying the pleasures of the senses.

4. The awakening

In the course of time the women told him how much they loved
the groves near the city, and how delightful they were. So, feeling like an
elephant locked up inside a house, he set his heart on making a journey
outside the palace. The king heard of the plans of his dearly beloved son,
and arranged a pleasure excursion which would be worthy of his own
affection and royal dignity, as well as of his son's youth. But he gave
orders that all the common folk with any kind of affliction should be kept
away from the royal road, because he feared that they might agitate the
prince's sensitive mind. Very gently all cripples were driven away, and all
those who were crazy, aged, ailing, and the like, and also all wretched
beggars. So the royal highway became supremely magnificent.

The citizens jubilantly acclaimed the prince. But the Gods of the
Pure Abode, when they saw that everyone was happy as if in Paradise,
conjured up the illusion of an old man, so as to induce the king's son to
leave his home. The prince's charioteer explained to him the meaning of
old age. The prince reacted to this news like a bull when a lightning-flash
crashes down near him. For his understanding was purified by the noble
intentions he had formed in his past lives and by the good deeds he had
accumulated over countless aeons. In consequence his lofty soul was
shocked to hear of old age. He sighed deeply, shook his head, fixed his
gaze on the old man, surveyed the festive multitude, and, deeply
perturbed, said to the charioteer: 'So that is how old age destroys
indiscriminately the memory, beauty, and strength of all! And yet with
such a sight before it the world goes on quite unperturbed. This being so,
my son, turn round the horses, and travel back quickly to our palace I
How can I delight to walk about in parks when my heart is full of fear of
ageing?' So at the bidding of his master's son the charioteer reversed the
chariot. And the prince went back into his palace, which now seemed
empty to him, as a result of his anxious reflections.

On a second pleasure excursion the same gods created a man with

a diseased body. When this fact was explained to him, the son of
Shuddhodana was dismayed, trembled like the reflection of the moon on
rippling water, and in his compassion he uttered these words in a low
voice: 'This then is the calamity of disease, which afflicts people! The
world sees it, and yet does not lose its confident ways. Greatly lacking in
insight it remains gay under the constant threat of disease. We will not
continue this excursion, but go straight back to the palace I Since I have
learnt of the danger of illness, my heart is repelled by pleasures and
seems to shrink into itself.'

On a third excursion the same gods displayed a corpse, which only

the prince and his charioteer could see being borne along the road. The
charioteer again explained the meaning of this sight to the prince.
Courageous though he was, the king's son, on hearing of death, was
suddenly filled with dismay. Leaning his shoulder against the top of the
chariot rail, he spoke these words in a forceful voice: 'This is the end
which has been fixed for all, and yet the world forgets its fears and takes
no heed! The hearts of men are surely hardened to fears, for they feel
quite at ease even while travelling along the road to the next life. Turn
back the chariot 1 This is no time or place for pleasure excursions. How
could an intelligent person pay no heed at a time of disaster, when he
knows of his impending destruction?'

5. Withdrawal from the women

From then onwards the prince withdrew from contact with the
women in the palace, and in answer to the reproaches of Udayin, the
king's counsellor, he explained his new attitude in the following words: 'It
is not that I despise the objects of sense, and I know full well that they
make up what we call the "world". But when I consider the impermanence
of everything in this world, then I can find no delight in it. Yes, if this
triad of old age, illness, and death did not exist, then all this loveliness
would surely give me great pleasure. If only this beauty of women were
imperishable, then my mind would certainly indulge in the passions,
though, of course, they have their faults. But since even women attach no
more value to their bodies after old age has drunk them up, to delight in
them would clearly be a sign of delusion. If people, doomed to undergo
old age, illness, and death, are carefree in their enjoyment with others
who are in the same position, they behave like birds and beasts. And
when you say that our holy books tell us of gods, sages, and heroes who,
though high-minded, were addicted to sensuous passions, then that by
itself should give rise to agitation, since they also are now extinct.
Successful high-mindedness seems to me incompatible with both
extinction and attachment to sensory concerns, and appears to require
that one is in full control of oneself. This being so, you will not prevail
upon me to devote myself to ignoble sense pleasures, for I am afflicted
by ill and it is my lot to become old and to die. How strong and powerful
must be your own mind, that in the fleeting pleasures of the senses you
find substance! You cling to sense-objects among the most frightful
dangers, even while you cannot help seeing all creation on the way to
death. By contrast I become frightened and greatly alarmed when I
reflect on the dangers of old age, death, and disease. I find neither peace
nor contentment, and enjoyment is quite out of the question, for the
world looks to me as if ablaze with an all-consuming fire. If a man has
once grasped that death is quite inevitable, and if nevertheless greed
arises in his heart, then he must surely have an iron will not to weep in
this great danger, but to enjoy it.' This discourse indicated that the prince
had come to a final decision and had combated the very foundations of
sensuous passion. And it was the time of sunset.

6. The flight

Even amidst the allure of the finest opportunities for sensuous

enjoyment the Shakya king's son felt no contentment, and he could not
regain a feeling of safety. He was, in fact, like a lion hit in the region of
the heart by an arrow smeared with a potent poison. In the hope that a
visit to the forest might bring him some peace, he left his palace with the
king's consent, accompanied by an escort of ministers' sons, who were
chosen for their reliability and their gift for telling entertaining stories.
The prince rode out on the good horse Kanthaka, which looked splendid,
for the bells of its bit were of fresh gold and its golden trappings beautiful
with waving plumes. The beauties of the landscape and his longing for the
forest carried him deep into the countryside. There he saw the soil being
ploughed, and its surface, broken with the tracks of the furrows, looked
like rippling water. The ploughs had torn up the sprouting grass,
scattering tufts of grass here and there, and the land was littered with
tiny creatures who had been killed and injured, worms, insects, and the
like. The sight of all this grieved the prince as deeply as if he had
witnessed the slaughter of his own kinsmen. He observed the ploughmen,
saw how they suffered from wind, sun, and dust, and how the oxen were
worn down by the labour of drawing. And in the supreme nobility of his
mind he performed an act of supreme pity. He then alighted from his
horse and walked gently and slowly over the ground, overcome with grief.
He reflected on the generation and the passing of all living things, and in
his distress he said to himself: 'How pitiful all this!'
 His mind longed for solitude, he withdrew from the good friends
who walked behind him, and went to a solitary spot at the foot of a rose-
apple tree. The tree's lovely leaves were in constant motion, and the
ground underneath it salubrious and green like beryl. There he sat down,
reflected on the origination and passing away of all that lives, and then he
worked on his mind in such a way that, with this theme as a basis, it
became stable and concentrated. When he had won through to mental
stability, he was suddenly freed from all desire for sense-objects and from
cares of any kind. He had reached the first stage of trance, which is calm
amidst applied and discursive thinking. In his case it had already at this
stage a supramundane purity. He had obtained that concentration of mind
which is born of detachment, and is accompanied by the highest rapture
and joy, and in this state of trance his mind considered the destiny of the
world correctly, as it is: 'Pitiful, indeed, that these people who themselves
are helpless and doomed to undergo illness, old age, and destruction,
should, in the ignorant blindness of their self-intoxication, show so little
respect for others who are likewise victims of old age, disease, and death
1 But now that I have discerned this supreme Dharma, it would be
unworthy and unbecoming if I, who am so constituted, should show no
respect for others whose constitution is essentially the same as mine.'
When he thus gained insight into the fact that the blemishes of disease,
old age, and death vitiate the very core of this world, he lost at the same
moment all self-intoxication, which normally arises from pride in one's
own strength, youth, and vitality. He now was neither glad nor grieved;
all doubt, lassitude, and sleepiness disappeared; sensuous excitements
could no longer influence him; and hatred and contempt for others were
far from his mind.

7. The apparition of a mendicant

As this understanding, pure and dustless, grew farther in his noble

soul, he saw a man glide towards him, who remained invisible to other
men, and who appeared in the guise of a religious mendicant. The king's
son asked him: 'Teil me who you are', and the answer was: 'O Bull among
men, I am a recluse who, terrified by birth and death, have adopted a
homeless life to win salvation. Since all that lives is to extinction doomed,
salvation from this world is what I wish, and so I search for that most
blessed state in which extinction is unknown. Kinsmen and strangers
mean the same to me, and greed and hate for all this world of sense have
ceased to be. Wherever I may be, that is my home - the root of a tree, a
deserted sanctuary, a hill or wood. Possessions I have none, no
expectations either. Intent on the supreme goal I wander about,
accepting any alms I may receive.' Before the prince's very eyes he then
flew up into the sky. For he was a denizen of the heavens, who had seen
other Buddhas in the past, and who had come to him in this form so as to
remind him of the task before him.

When that being had risen like a bird into the sky, the best of men
was elated and amazed. Then and there he intuitively perceived the
Dharma, and made plans to leave his palace for the homeless life. And
soon after returning to his palace he decided to escape during the night.
The gods knew of his intention, and saw to it that the palace doors were
open. He descended from the upper part of the palace, looked with
disgust upon the women lying about in all kinds of disorderly positions,
and unhesitatingly went to the stables in the outermost courtyard. He
roused Chandaka, the groom, and ordered him quickly to bring the horse
Kanthaka. 'For I want to depart from here to-day, and win the deathless
state!'

8. The dismissal of Chandaka

They rode off, till they came to a hermitage, where the prince took
off his jewels, gave them to Chandaka and dismissed him with this
message to his father, king Shuddho-dana: 'So that my father's grief may
be dispelled, tell him that I have gone to this penance grove for the
purpose of putting an end to old age and death, and by no means
because I yearn for Paradise, or because I feel no affection for him, or
from moody resentment. Since I have left for the homeless life with this
end in view, there is no reason why he should grieve for me. Some day in
any case all unions must come to an end, however long they may have
lasted. It is just because we must reckon with perpetual separation that I
am determined to win salvation, for then I shall no more be torn away
from my kindred. There is no reason to grieve for me who have left for
the homeless life so as to quit all grief. Rather should one grieve over
those who greedily cling to those sensuous passions in which all grief is
rooted. My father will perhaps say that it was too early for me to leave for
the forest. But then there is no such thing as a wrong season for Dharma,
our hold on life being so uncertain. This very day therefore I will begin to
strive for the highest good - that is my firm resolve! Death confronts me
all the time - how do I know how much of life is still at my disposal?'

The charioteer once more tried to dissuade the prince, and

received this reply: 'Chandaka, stop this grief over parting from me! All
those whom birth estranged from the oneness of Dharma must one day
go their separate ways. Even if affection should prevent me from leaving
my kinsfolk just now of my own accord, in due course death would tear
us apart, and in that we would have no say. Just think of my mother, who
bore me in her womb with great longing and with many pains. Fruitless
proves her labour now. What am I now to her, what she to me? Birds
settle on a tree for a while, and then go their separate ways again. The
meeting of all living beings must likewise inevitably end in their parting.
Clouds meet and then they fly apart again, and in the same light I see the
union of living beings and their parting. This world passes away, and
disappoints all hopes of everlasting attachment. It is therefore unwise to
have a sense of ownership for people who are united with us as in a
dream - for a short while only, and not in fact. The colouring of their
leaves is connate to trees, and yet they must let it go; how much more
must this apply to the separation of disparate things! This being so, you
had better go away now, and cease, my friend, from grieving! But if your
love for me still holds you back, go now to the king, and then return to
me. And, please, give this message to the people in Kapilavastu who keep
their eyes on me: "Cease to feel affection for him, and hear his
unshakeable resolve: 'Either he will extinguish old age and death, and
then you shall quickly see him again; or he will go to perdition, because
his strength has failed him and he could not achieve his purpose'.'"

9. The practice of austerities

From then onwards the prince led a religious life, and diligently
studied the various systems practised among ascetics and yogins. After a
time the sage, in search of a lonely retreat, went to live on the bank of
the river Nairanjana, the purity of which appealed to that of his own
valour. Five mendicants had gone there before him to lead a life of
austerity, in scrupulous observance of their religious vows, and proud of
their control over the five senses. When the monks saw him there, they
waited upon him in their desire for liberation, just as the objects of sense
wait upon a lordly man to whom the merits of his past lives have given
wealth, and the health to enjoy them. They greeted him reverently,
bowed before him, followed his instructions, and placed themselves as
pupils under his control, just as the restless senses serve the mind. He,
however, embarked on further austerities, and particularly on starvation
as the means which seemed most likely to put an end to birth and death.
In his desire for quietude he emaciated his body for six years, and carried
out a number of strict methods of fasting, very hard for men to endure.
At mealtimes he was content with a single jujube fruit, a single sesamum
seed, and a single grain of rice - so intent he was on winning the further,
the unbounded, shore of Samsara. The bulk of his body was greatly
reduced by this self-torture, but by way of compensation his psychic
power grew correspondingly more and more. Wasted away though he
was, his glory and majesty remained unimpaired, and his sight gladdened
the eyes of those who looked upon him. It was as welcome to them as
the full moon in autumn to the white lotuses that bloom at night. His fat,
flesh, and blood had all gone. Only skin and bone remained. Exhausted
though he was, his depth seemed unexhausted like that of the ocean
itself.
 After a time, however, it became clear to him that this kind of
excessive self-torture merely wore out his body without any useful result.
Impelled both by his dread of becoming and by his longing for
Buddhahood, he reasoned as follows: 'This is not the Dharma which leads
to dispassion, to enlightenment, to emancipation. That method which
some time ago I found under the rose-apple tree (see page 42), that was
more certain in its results. But those meditations cannot be carried out in
this weakened condition; therefore I must take steps to increase again
the strength of this body. When that is worn down and exhausted by
hunger and thirst, the mind in its turn must feel the strain, that mental
organ which must reap the fruit. No, inward calm is needed for success!
Inward calm cannot be maintained unless physical strength is constantly
and intelligently replenished. Only if the body is reasonably nourished can
undue strain on the mind be avoided. When the mind is free from strain
and is serene, then the faculty of Transic concentration can arise in it.
When thought is joined to Transic concentration, then it can advance
through the various stages of trance. We can then win the dharmas which
finally allow us to gain that highest state, so hard to reach, which is
tranquil, ageless, and deathless. And without proper nourishment this
procedure is quite impossible.'

10. Nandabala's gift

His courage was unbroken, but his boundless intellect led him to
the decision that from now on again he needed proper food. In
preparation for his first meal he went into the Nairanjana river to bathe.
Afterwards he slowly and painfully worked his way up the river bank, and
the trees on the slope reverently bent low their branches to give him a
helping hand. At the instigation of the deities, Nandabala, daughter of the
overseer of the cowherds, happened to pass there, her heart bursting
with joy. She looked like the foamy blue waters of the Yamuna river, with
her blue dress, and her arms covered with blazing white shells. When she
saw him, faith further increased her joy, her lotus eyes opened wide, she
prostrated herself before him, and begged him to accept milk-rice from
her. He did, and his meal marked the most fruitful moment of her life. For
himself, however, he gained the strength to win enlightenment. Now that
his body had been nourished, the Sage's bodily frame became fully
rounded again. But the five mendicants left him, because they had
formed the opinion that he had now quite turned away from the holy life -
just as in the Samkhya system the five elements leave the thinking soul
once it is liberated. Accompanied only by his resolution, he proceeded to
the root of a sacred fig-tree, where the ground was carpeted with green
grass. For he was definitely determined to win full enlightenment soon.

The incomparable sound of his footsteps woke Kala, a serpent of

high rank, who was as strong as a king elephant. Aware that the great
Sage had definitely determined on enlightenment, he uttered this eulogy:
'Your steps, O Sage, resound like thunder reverberating in the earth; the
light that issues from your body shines like the sun: No doubt that you
to-day will taste the fruit you so desire! The flocks of blue jays which are
whirling round up in the sky show their respect by keeping their right
sides towards you; the air is full of gentle breezes: It is quite certain that
to-day you will become a Buddha.'

The Sage thereupon collected fresh grass froma grass cutter, and,
on reaching the foot of the auspicious great tree, sat down and made a
vow to win enlightenment. He then adopted the cross-legged posture,
which is the best of all because so immovable, the limbs being massive
like the coils of a sleeping serpent. And he said to himself: 'I shall not
change this my position so long as I have not done what I set out to do!'
Then the denizens of the heavens felt exceedingly joyous, the herds of
beasts, as well as the birds, made no noise at all, and even the trees
ceased to rustle when struck by the wind: for the Lord had seated himself
with his spirit quite resolved.

11. The defeat of Mara

 Because the great Sage, the scion of a line of royal seers, had
made his vow to win emancipation, and had seated himself in the effort
to carry it out, the whole world rejoiced - but Mara, the inveterate foe of
the true Dharma, shook with fright. People address him gladly as the God
of Love, the one who shoots with flower-arrows, and yet they dread this
Mara as the one who rules events connected with a life of passion, as one
who hates the very thought of freedom. He had with him his three sons -
Flurry, Gaiety, and Sullen Pride - and his three daughters-Discontent,
Delight, and Thirst. These asked him why he was so disconcerted in his
mind. And he replied to them with these words: 'Look over there at that
sage, clad in the armour of determination, with truth and spiritual virtue
as his weapons, the arrows of his intellect drawn ready to shoot! He has
sat down with the firm intention of conquering my realm. No wonder that
my mind is plunged in deep despondency! If he should succeed in
overcoming me, and could proclaim to the world the way to final
beatitude, then my realm would be empty to-day, like that of the king of
Videha of whom we hear in the Epics that he lost his kingdom because he
misconducted himself by carrying off a Brahmin's daughter. But so far he
has not yet won the eye of full knowledge. He is still within my sphere of
influence. While there is time I therefore will attempt to break his solemn
purpose, and throw myself against him like the rush of a swollen river
breaking against the embankment!'

But Mara could achieve nothing against the Bodhisattva, and he

and his army were defeated, and fled in all directions -their elation gone,
their toil rendered fruitless, their rocks, logs, and trees scattered
everywhere. They behaved like a hostile army whose commander had
been slain in battle. So Mara, defeated, ran away together with his
followers. The great seer, free from the dust of passion, victorious over
darkness' gloom, had vanquished him. And the moon, like a maiden's
gentle smile, lit up the heavens, while a rain of sweet-scented flowers,
filled with moisture, fell down on the earth from above.

12. The Enlightenment

 Now that he had defeated Mara's violence by his firmness and
calm, the Bodhisattva, possessed of great skill in Transic meditation, put
himself into trance, intent on discerning both the ultimate reality of things
and the final goal of existence. After he had gained complete mastery
over all the degrees and kinds of trance:

1. In the first watch of the night he recollected the successive

series of his former births. 'There was I so and so; that was my name;
deceased from there I came here' - in this way he remembered
thousands of births, as though living them over again. When he had
recalled his own births and deaths in all these various lives of his, the
Sage, full of pity, turned his compassionate mind towards other living
beings, and he thought to himself: 'Again and again they must leave the
people they regard as their own, and must go on elsewhere, and that
without ever stopping. Surely this world is unprotected and helpless, and
like a wheel it turns round and round.' As he continued steadily to
recollect the past thus, he came to the definite conviction that this world
of Samsara is as unsubstantial as the pith of a plantain tree.

2. Second to none in valour, he then, in the second watch of the

night, acquired the supreme heavenly eye, for he himself was the best of
all those who have sight. Thereupon with the perfectly pure heavenly eye
he looked upon the entire world, which appeared to him as though
reflected in a spotless mirror. He saw that the decease and rebirth of
beings depend on whether they have done superior or inferior deeds. And
his compassionateness grew still further. It became dear to him that no
security can be found in this flood of Samsaric existence, and that the
threat of death is ever-present. Beset on all sides, creatures can find no
resting place. In this way he surveyed the five places of rebirth with his
heavenly eye. And he found nothing substantial in the world of becoming,
just as no core of heartwood is found in a plantain tree when its layers
are peeled off one by one.

3. Then, as the third watch of that night drew on, the supreme
master of trance turned his meditation to the real and essential nature of
this world: 'Alas, living beings wear themselves out in vain I Over and
over again they are born, they age, die, pass on to a new life, and are
reborn! What is more, greed and dark delusion obscure their sight, and
they are bund from birth. Greatly apprehensive, they yet do not know
how to get out of this great mass of ill.' He then surveyed the twelve links
of conditioned co-production (see p. 187), and saw that, beginning with
ignorance, they lead to old age and death, and, beginning with the
cessation of ignorance, they lead to the cessation of birth, old age, death,
and all kinds of ill.

When the great seer had comprehended that where there is no

ignorance whatever, there also the karma-formations are stopped - then
he had achieved a correct knowledge of all there is to be known, and he
stood out in the world as a Buddha. He passed through the eight stages
of Transic insight, and quickly reached their highest point. From the
summit of the world downwards he could detect no self anywhere. Like
the fire, when its fuel is burnt up, he became tranquil. He had reached
perfection, and he thought to himself: 'This is the authentic Way on which
in the past so many great seers, who also knew all higher and all lower
things, have travelled on to ultimate and real truth. And now I have
obtained it!'

4. At that moment, in the fourth match of the night, when dawn

broke and all the ghosts that move and those that move not went to rest,
the great seer took up the position which knows no more alteration, and
the leader of all reached the state of all-knowledge. When, through his
Buddhahood, he had cognized this fact, the earth swayed like a woman
drunken with wine, the sky shone bright with the Siddhas who appeared
in crowds in all the directions, and the mighty drums of thunder
resounded through the air. Pleasant breezes blew softly, rain fell from a
cloudless sky, flowers and fruits dropped from the trees out of season - in
an effort, as it were, to show reverence for him. Mandarava flowers and
lotus blossoms, and also water lilies made of gold and beryl, fell from the
sky on to the ground near the Shakya sage, so that it looked like a place
in the world of the gods. At that moment no one anywhere was angry, ill,
or sad; no one did evil, none was proud; the world became quite quiet, as
though it had reached full perfection. Joy spread through the ranks of
those gods who longed for salvation; joy also spread among those who
lived in the regions below. Everywhere the virtuous were strengthened,
the influence of Dharma increased, and the world rose from the dirt of the
passions and the darkness of ignorance. Filled with joy and wonder at the
Sage's work, the seers of the solar race who had been protectors of men,
who had been royal seers, who had been great seers, stood in their
mansions in the heavens and showed him their reverence. The great
seers among the hosts of invisible beings could be heard widely
proclaiming his fame. All living things rejoiced and sensed that things
went well. Mara alone felt deep displeasure, as though subjected to a
sudden fall.

For seven days He dwelt there - his body gave him no trouble, his
eyes never closed, and he looked into his own mind. He thought: 'Here I
have found freedom', and he knew that the longings of his heart had at
last come to fulfillment. Now that he had grasped the principle of
causation, and finally convinced himself of the lack of self in all that is, he
roused himself again from his deep trance, and in his great compassion
he surveyed the world with his Buddha-eye, intent on giving it peace.
When, however, he saw on the one side the world lost in low views and
confused efforts, thickly covered with the dirt of the passions, and saw on
the other side the exceeding subtlety of the Dharma of emancipation, he
felt inclined to take no action. But when he weighed up the significance of
the pledge to enlighten all beings he had taken in the past, he became
again more favourable to the idea of proclaiming the path to Peace.
Reflecting in his mind on this question, he also considered that, while
some people have a great deal of passion, others have but little. As soon
as Indra and Brahma, the two chiefs of those who dwell in the heavens,
had grasped the Sugata's intention to proclaim the path to Peace, they
shone brightly and came up to him, the weal of the world their concern.
He remained there on his seat, free from all evil and successful in his aim.
The most excellent Dharma which he had seen was his most excellent
companion. His two visitors gently and reverently spoke to him these
words, which were meant for the weal of the world: 'Please do not
condemn all those that live as unworthy of such treasure! Oh, please
engender pity in your heart for beings in this world! So varied is their
endowment, and while some have much passion, others have only very
little. Now that you, O Sage, have yourself crossed the ocean of the world
of becoming, please rescue also the other living beings who have sunk so
deep into suffering I As a generous lord shares his wealth, so may also
you bestow your own virtues on others I Most of those who know what for
them is good in this world and the next, act only for their own advantage.
In the world of men and in heaven it is hard to find anyone who is
impelled by concern for the weal of the world.' Having made this request
to the great seer, the two gods returned to their celestial abode by the
way they had come. And the sage pondered over their words. In
consequence he was confirmed in his decision to set the world free.

Then came the time for the alms-round, and the World-Guardians
of the four quarters presented the seer with begging-bowls. Gautama
accepted the four, but for the sake of his Dharma he turned them into
one. At that time two merchants of a passing caravan came that way.
Instigated by a friendly deity, they joyfully saluted the seer, and, elated
in their hearts, gave him alms. They were the first to do so.

After that the sage saw that Arada and Udraka Ramaputra were
the two people best equipped to grasp the Dharma. But then he saw that
both had gone to live among the gods in heaven. His mind thereupon
turned to the five mendicants. In order to proclaim the path to Peace,
thereby dispelling the darkness of ignorance, just as the rising sun
conquers the darkness of night, Gautama betook himself to the blessed
city of Kashi, to which Bhimaratha gave his love, and which is adorned
with the Varanasi river and with many splendid forests. Then, before he
carried out his wish to go into the region of Kashi, the Sage, whose eyes
were like those of a bull, and whose gait like that of an elephant in rut,
once more fixed his steady gaze on the root of the Bodhi-tree, after he
had turned his entire body like an elephant.

13. The meeting with the mendicant

 He had fulfilled his task, and now, calm and majestic, went on
alone, though it seemed that a large retinue accompanied him. A
mendicant, intent on Dharma, saw him on the road, and in wonderment
folded his hands and said to him: 'The senses of others are restless like
horses, but yours have been tamed. Other beings are passionate, but
your passions have ceased. Your form shines like the moon in the night-
sky, and you appear to be refreshed by the sweet savour of a wisdom
newly tasted. Your features shine with intellectual power, you have
become master over your senses, and you have the eyes of a mighty bull.
No doubt that you have achieved your aim. Who then is your teacher,
who has taught you this supreme felicity?' But he replied: 'No teacher
have I. None need I venerate, and none must I despise. Nirvana have I
now obtained, and I am not the same as others are. Quite by myself, you
see, have I the Dharma won. Completely have I understood what must be
understood, though others failed to understand it. That is the reason why
I am a Buddha. The hostile forces of defilement I have vanquished. That
is the reason why I should be known as one whose self is calmed. And,
having calmed myself, I now am on my way to Varanasi, to work the weal
of fellow-beings still oppressed by many ills. There shall I beat the
deathless Dharma's drum, unmoved by pride, not tempted by renown.
Having myself crossed the ocean of suffering,I must help others to cross
it. Freed myself, I must set others free. This is the vow which I made in
the past when I saw all that lives in distress.' In reply the mendicant
whispered to himself, 'Most remarkable, indeed!' and he decided that it
would be better not to stay with the Buddha. He accordingly went his
way, although repeatedly he looked back at Him with eyes full of
wonderment, and not without some degree of longing desire.

14. The meeting with the five mendicants

In due course the Sage saw the city of Kashi, which resembled the
interior of a treasury. It lies where the two rivers Bhagirathi and Varanasi
meet, and, like a mistress, they hold it in their embrace. Resplendent
with majestic power, shining like the sun, he reached the Deer Park. The
clusters of trees resounded with the calls of the cuckoos and great seers
frequented it. The five mendicants - he of the Kaundinya clan,
Mahanaman, Vashpa, Ashvajit, and Bhadrajit - saw him from afar, and
said to one another: 'There is our pleasure-loving friend, the mendicant
Gautama, who gave up his austerities I When he comes to us, we must
certainly not get up to meet him, and he is certainly not worth saluting.
People who have broken their vows do not deserve any respect. Of
course, if he should wish to talk to us, let us by all means converse with
him. For it is unworthy of saintly people to act otherwise towards visitors,
whoever they may be.' Although they had thus decided what to do, the
mendicants, when the Buddha actually moved towards them, soon went
back on their plans. The nearer he came, the weaker was their resistance.
One of them took his robe, another with folded hands reached out for his
alms-bowl, the third offered him a proper seat, and the two remaining
ones presented him with water for his feet. By these manifold tokens of
respect they all treated him as their teacher. But, as they did not cease
calling him by his family name, the Lord, in his compassion, said to them:
'To an Arhat, worthy of reverence, you should not speak, O mendicants,
in the same way as you did formerly, omitting the special veneration due
to him! As for myself, praise and contempt are surely the same. But in
your own interest you should be warned against behaving in a manner
which will bring you harm. It is for the weal of the world that a Buddha
has won enlightenment, and the welfare of all that lives has been his aim.
But the Dharma is cut off for those who slight their teacher by addressing
him with his family name, for that is like showing disrespect for one's
parents.' So spoke the great seer, the best of all speakers, filled with
compassion. But, led astray by delusion and a deficiency in spiritual
solidity, they answered him with a slight smile on their faces: 'Gautama,
so far the supreme and most excellent austerities have not led you to an
understanding of true reality! Only by them can the goal be achieved, but
you dwell in sensuous comfort! What is your ground for saying to us that
you have seen the truth?'

15. Turning the wheel of Dharma

 Since the mendicants thus refused to believe in the truth found by
the Tathagata, He, who knew the path to enlightenment to be different
from the practice of austerities, expounded to them the path from his
direct knowledge of it: 'Those foolish people who torment themselves, as
well as those who have become attached to the domains of the senses,
both these should be viewed as faulty in their method, because they are
not on the way to deathlessness. These so-called austerities but confuse
the mind which is overpowered by the body's exhaustion. In the resulting
stupor one can no longer understand the ordinary things of life, how
much less the way to the Truth which lies beyond the senses. The minds
of those, on the other hand, who are attached to the worthless sense-
objects, are overwhelmed by passion and darkening delusion. They lose
even the ability to understand the doctrinal treatises, still less can they
succeed with the method which by suppressing the passions leads to
dispassion. So I have given up both these extremes, and have found
another path, a middle way. It leads to the appeasing of all ill, and yet it
is free from happiness and joy.'

The Buddha then expounded to the five mendicants the holy

eightfold path, and the four holy truths (see pp. 186-7).

'And so I came to the conviction that suffering must be

comprehended, its cause given up, its stopping mastered, and this path
developed. Now that I have comprehended suffering, have given up its
cause, have realized its stopping, and have developed this path - now I
can say that my organ of spiritual vision has been opened. As long as I
had not seen these four divisions of the holy real truth, so long did I not
claim to be emancipated, so long did I not believe I had done what was to
be done. But when I had penetrated the holy truths, and had thereby
done all that had to be done: then I did claim to be emancipated, then I
did see that I had reached my goal.' And when the great seer, full of
compassion, had thus proclaimed the Dharma, he of the Kaundinya clan,
and hundreds of gods with him, obtained the insight which is pure and
free from dust.
 16. The meeting of father and son

In due course the Buddha went to Kapilavastu, and preached the

Dharma to his father. He also displayed to him his proficiency in
wonderworking power, thereby making him more ready to receive his
Dharma. His father was overjoyed by what he heard, folded his hands,
and said to him: 'Wise and fruitful are your deeds, and you have released
me from great suffering. Instead of rejoicing at the gift of the earth,
which brings nothing but sorrow, I will now rejoice at having so fruitful a
son. You were right to go away and give up your prosperous home. It was
right of you to have toiled with such great labours. And now it is right of
you that you should have compassion on us, your dear relations, who
loved you so dearly, and whom you did leave. For the sake of the world in
distress you have trodden the path to supreme reality, which could not be
found even by those seers of olden times who were gods or kings. If you
had chosen to become a universal monarch, that could have given me no
more joy than I have now felt at the sight of your miraculous powers and
of your holy Dharma. If you had chosen to remain bound up with the
things of this world, you could as a universal monarch have protected
mankind. Instead, having conquered the great ills of the Samsaric world,
you have become a Sage who proclaims the Dharma for the weal of all.
Your miraculous powers, your mature intellect, your definite escape from
the countless perils of the Samsaric world - these have made you into the
sovereign master of the world, even without the insignia of royalty. That
you could not have done if you had remained among the things of this
world, and you would have been truly powerless, how ever much you had
thrived as a king.'

17. further conversions

After that the Buddha visited Shravasti, accepted the gift of the
Jetavana Grove, admonished king Prasenajit, and exhibited his
miraculous powers to confute the disputants of other schools. His
miracles caused the people of Shravasti greatly to honour and revere
him. He,however, departed from them, and rose in glorious majesty
miraculously above the Triple world, reached the heaven of the Thirty-
three where his mother dwelt, and there preached the Dharma for her
benefit. His cognition enabled the Sage to educate his mother. He passed
the rainy season in that heaven, and accepted alms in due form from the
king of the gods who inhabit the ether. Then, descending from the world
of the Gods, he came down in the region of Samkashya. The Gods, who
by his presence had gained spiritual calm, stood in their mansions and
followed him with their eyes. And the kings on earth raised their faces to
the sky, bowed low, and received him respectfully.

After in heaven he had instructed his mother and those gods who
desired to be saved, the Sage travelled over the earth, converting those
who were ripe for conversion.

18. Devadatta

Devadatta, his cousin, and a member of the order of monks, saw

His greatness and success, and was offended in his pride. His mind, so
proficient in the trances, whirled round in a kind of delirium, he became
quite frenzied and did many despicable things. He created a schism in the
Sage's community, and the resulting separation further increased his ill-
will. It was through him that on Vulture Peak a huge rock rolled down on
the Sage with great force, but, though aimed at Him, it did not hit Him,
but broke into two pieces before it could reach Him. On the royal highway
he let loose a king elephant who rushed towards the Tathagata, with a
noise like the thundering of the black clouds at the end of the world, and
with the force of the wind in the sky on a dark moonless night. So the
elephant rushed towards the Lord, murder in his heart, and the people
wept and held up their arms. But without hesitating the Lord went on,
collected and unmoved, and without any feeling of ill-will. His friendliness
made him compassionate towards all that lives, and in addition he was
protected by the gods who with devoted love followed close behind him.
So even that great elephant could not touch the Sage, who calmly
advanced on his way. The monks who followed the Buddha fled in haste
even while the elephant was a long way off. Ananda alone stayed with the
Buddha. But when the elephant had come quite near, the Sage's spiritual
power soon brought him to his senses, inducing him to lower his body
and place his head on the ground, like a mountain, the sides of which
have been shattered by a thunderbolt. With the well-formed webbed
fingers of his hand, beautiful and soft as a lotus, the Sage stroked the
elephant's head, as the moon touches a cloud with its rays. But
Devadatta, after he had in his malice done many wicked and evil deeds,
fell to the regions below, detested by all alike, whether they were kings or
citizens, Brahmins or sages.

19. The desire for death

Years later, the Lord was at Vaisali, on the bank of Markata's pool.
He sat there under a tree, in shining majesty. Mara appeared in the
grove, and said to him: 'Formerly, on the bank of the Nairanjana river,
when I spoke to you immediately after your enlightenment, I said to you,
O Sage: "You have done what there was to be done. Now enter the final
Nirvana!" But you replied: "I shall not enter the final Nirvana until I have
given security to the afflicted and made them get rid of their
defilements." Now, however, many have been saved, others desire to be
saved, others again will be saved. It is right therefore that now you
should enter the final Nirvana.' On hearing these words, the supreme
Arhat replied: 'In three months' time I shall enter the final Nirvana. Do
not be impatient, and wait a while!' This promise convinced Mara that his
heart's desire would soon be fulfilled. Jubilant and exulting, he
disappeared.

Tathagatas have the power to live on to the end of the aeon. But
the great Seer now entered into a trance with such a force of Yoga, that
he gave up the physical life which was still due to him, and after that he
continued to live on in a unique way for a while by the might of his
miraculous psychic power. And at the moment that he gave up his claim
to live to the end of the aeon, the earth staggered like a drunken woman,
and in all directions great firebrands fell from the sky. Indra's
thunderbolts flashed unceasingly on all sides, pregnant with fire and
accompanied by lightning. Everywhere flames blazed up, as if the end of
the world with its universal conflagration had come. Mountain tops
toppled down and shed heaps of broken trees. There was the terrible
sound of the heavenly drums thundering in the sky, like that of a cavern
filled to the brim with wind. During this commotion which affected alike
the world of men, the heavens and the sky, the great Sage emerged from
his deep trance, and uttered these words: 'Now that I have given up my
claim to live up to the end of the aeon, my body must drag itself along by
its own power, like a chariot when the axle has been taken out. Together
with my future years I have been set free from the bonds of becoming, as
a bird which, hatching, has broken through its shell.'

When Ananda saw the commotion in the world, his hair stood on
end, he wondered what it might be, trembled and lost his habitual
serenity. He asked the omniscient one, who is experienced in finding
causes, for the cause of this event. The Sage replied: 'This earthquake
indicates that I have given up the remaining years of life still due to me.
For three months only, reckoned from to-day, will I sustain my life.' On
hearing this Ananda was deeply moved, and his tears flowed, as gum
flows from a sandal tree when a mighty elephant breaks it down.

20. The leave-taking from Vaisali, the final couch,

instructions to the Mallas

Three months later the great Sage turned his entire body round
like an elephant, looked at the town of Vaisali, and uttered these words:
'O Vaisali, this is the last time that I see you. For I am now departing for
Nirvana!' He then went to Kusinagara, bathed in the river, and gave this
order to Ananda: 'Arrange a couch for me between those twin Sal trees I
In the course of this night the Tathagata will enter Nirvana!' When
Ananda had heard these words, a film of tears spread over his eyes. He
arranged the Sage's last resting place, and then amid laments informed
him that he had done so. In measured steps the Best of Men walked to
his final resting place - no more return in store for him, no further
suffering. In full sight of his disciples he lay down on his right side, rested
his head on his hand, and put one leg over the other. At that moment the
birds uttered no sound, and, as if in trance, they sat with their bodies all
relaxed. The winds ceased to move the leaves of the trees, and the trees
shed wilted flowers, which came down like tears.

In his compassion the All-knowing, when he lay on his last resting

place, said to Ananda, who was deeply disturbed and in tears: 'The time
has come for me to enter Nirvana. Go, and tell the Mallas about it. For
they will regret it later on if they do not now witness the Nirvana.' Nearly
fainting with grief, Ananda obeyed the order, and told the Mallas that the
Sage was lying on his final bed.

The Mallas, their faces covered with tears, came along to see the
Sage. They paid homage to Him, and then, anguish in their minds, stood
around Him. And the Sage spoke to them as follows: 'In the hour of joy it
is not proper to grieve. Your despair is quite inappropriate, and you
should regain your composure 1 The goal, so hard to win, which for many
aeons I have wished for, now at last it is no longer far away. When that is
won - no earth, or water, fire, wind or ether present; unchanging bliss,
beyond all objects of the senses, a peace which none can take away, the
highest thing there is; and when you hear of that, and know that no
becoming mars it, and nothing ever there can pass away - how is there
room for grief then in your minds? At Gaya, at the time when I won
enlightenment, I got rid of the causes of becoming, which are nothing but
a gang of harmful vipers; now the hour comes near when I get rid also of
this body, the dwelling place of the acts accumulated in the past. Now
that at last this body, which harbours so much ill, is on its way out; now
that at last the frightful dangers of becoming are about to be extinct; now
that at last I emerge from the vast and endless suffering - is that the
time for you to grieve?'
 So spoke the Sage of the Shakya tribe, and the thunder of his
voice contrasted strangely with the deep calm with which He faced his
departure. All the Mallas felt the urge to reply, but it was left to the oldest
among them to raise his voice, and to say: 'You all weep, but is there any
real cause for grief? We should look upon the Sage as a man who has
escaped from a house on fire! Even the gods on high see it like that, how
much more so we men! But that this mighty man,that the Tathagata,
once He has won Nirvana, will pass beyond our ken - that is what causes
us grief! When those who travel in a dreadful wilderness lose their skilful
guide, will they not be deeply disturbed? People look ridiculous when they
come away poor from a goldmine; likewise those who have seen the
great Teacher and Sage, the All-seeing himself, in his actual person,
ought to have some distinctive spiritual achievement to carry away with
them!' Folding their hands like sons in the presence of their father, the
Mallas thus spoke much that was to the point. And the Best of Men,
aiming at their welfare and tranquillity, addressed to them these
meaningful words: 'It is indeed a fact that salvation cannot come from
the mere sight of Me. It demands strenuous efforts in the practice of
Yoga. But if someone has thoroughly understood this my Dharma, then
he is released from the net of suffering, even though he never cast his
eyes on Me. A man must take medicine to be cured; the mere sight of the
physician is not enough. Likewise the mere sight of Me enables no one to
conquer suffering; he will have to meditate for himself about the gnosis I
have communicated. If self-controlled, a man may live away from Me as
far as can be; but if he only sees my Dharma then indeed he sees Me
also. But if he should neglect to strive in concentrated calm for higher
things, then, though he live quite near Me, he is far away from Me.
Therefore be energetic, persevere, and try to control your minds 1 Do
good deeds, and try to win mindfulness 1 For life is continually shaken by
many kinds of suffering, as the flame of a lamp by the wind.' In this way
the Sage, the Best of All those who live, fortified their minds. But still the
tears continued to pour from their eyes, and perturbed in their minds
they went back to Kusinagara. Each one felt helpless and unprotected, as
if crossing the middle of a river all on his own.
 21. Parinirvana

Thereupon the Buddha turned to his Disciples, and said to them:

'Everything comes to an end, though it may last for an aeon. The hour of
parting is bound to come in the end. Now I have done what I could do,
both for myself and for others. To stay here would from now on be
without any purpose. I have disciplined, in heaven and on earth, all those
whom I could discipline, and I have set them in the stream. Hereafter this
my Dharma, O monks, shall abide for generations and generations among
living beings. Therefore, recognize the true nature of the living world, and
do not be anxious; for separation cannot possibly be avoided. Recognize
that all that lives is subject to this law; and strive from to-day onwards
that it shall be thus no more! When the light of gnosis has dispelled the
darkness of ignorance, when all existence has been seen as without
substance, peace ensues when life draws to an end, which seems to cure
a long sickness at last. Everything, whether stationary or movable, is
bound to perish in the end. Be ye therefore mindful and vigilant! The time
for my entry into Nirvana has now arrived! These are my last words!'

Thereupon, supreme in his mastery of the trances, He at that

moment entered into the first trance, emerged from it and went on to the
second, and so in due order he entered all of them without omitting one.
And then, when he had ascended through all the nine stages of
meditational attainment, the great Seer reversed the process, and
returned again to the first trance. Again he emerged from that, and once
more he ascended step by step to the fourth trance. When he emerged
from the practice of that, he came face to face with everlasting Peace.

And when the Sage entered Nirvana, the earth quivered like a ship
struck by a squall, and firebrands fell from the sky. The heavens were lit
up by a preternatural fire, which burned without fuel, without smoke,
without being fanned by the wind. Fearsome thunderbolts crashed down
on the earth, and violent winds raged in the sky. The moon's light waned,
and, in spite of a cloudless sky, an uncanny darkness spread everywhere.
The rivers, as if overcome with grief, were filled with boiling water.
Beautiful flowers grew out of season on the Sal trees above the Buddha's
couch, and the trees bent down over him and showered his golden body
with their flowers. Like as many gods the five-headed Nagas stood
motionless in the sky, their eyes reddened with grief, their hoods closed
and their bodies kept in restraint, and with deep devotion they gazed
upon the body of the Sage. But, well-established in the practice of the
supreme Dharma, the gathering of the gods round king Vaishravana was
not grieved and shed no tears, so great was their attachment to the
Dharma. The Gods of the Pure Abode, though they had great reverence
for the Great Seer, remained composed, and their minds were
unaffected; for they hold the things of this world in the utmost contempt.
The kings of the Gandharvas and Nagas, as well as the Yakshas and the
Devas who rejoice in the true Dharma - they all stood in the sky,
mourning and absorbed in the utmost grief. But Mara's hosts felt that
they had obtained their heart's desire. Overjoyed they uttered loud
laughs, danced about, hissed like snakes, and triumphantly made a
frightful din by beating drums, gongs and tom-toms. And the world, when
the Prince of Seers had passed beyond, became like a mountain whose
peak has been shattered by a thunderbolt; it became like the sky without
the moon, like a pond whose lotuses the frost has withered, or like
learning rendered ineffective by lack of wealth.

22. The Relics

Those who had not yet got rid of their passions shed tears. Most of
the monks lost their composure and felt grief. Those only who had
completed the cycle were not shaken out of their composure, for they
knew well that it is the nature of things to pass away. In due course the
Mallas heard the news. Like cranes pursued by a hawk they quickly
streamed forth under the impact of this calamity, and cried in their
distress, 'Alas, the Saviour!' In due course the weeping Mallas, with their
powerful arms, placed the Seer on a priceless bier of ivory inlaid with
gold. They then performed the ceremonies which befitted the occasion,
and honoured Him with many kinds of charming garlands and with the
finest perfumes. After that, with zeal and devotion they all took hold of
the bier. Slender maidens, with tinkling anklets and copper-stained
finger-nails, held a priceless canopy over it, which was like a cloud white
with flashes of lightning. Some of the men held up parasols with white
garlands, while others waved white yaks' tails set in gold. To the
accompaniment of music the Mallas slowly bore along the bier, their eyes
reddened like those of bulls. They left the city through the Naga Gate,
crossed the Hiranyavati river, and then moved on to the Mukuta shrine,
at the foot of which they raised a pyre. Sweet-scented barks and leaves,
aloewood, sandalwood, and cassia they heaped on the pyre, sighing with
grief all the time. Finally they placed the Sage's body on it. Three times
they tried to light the pyre with a torch, but it refused to burn. This was
due to Kashyapa the Great coming along the road, Kashyapa whose mind
was meditating pure thoughts. He longed to see the remains of the holy
body of the departed Hero, and it was his magical power which prevented
the fire from flaring up. But now the monk approached with rapid steps,
eager to see his Teacher once more, and immediately he had paid his
homage to the Best of Sages the fire blazed up of its own. Soon it had
burnt up the Sage's skin, flesh, hair and limbs. But although there was
plenty of ghee, fuel, and wind, it could not consume His bones. These
were in due time purified with the finest water, and placed in golden
pitchers in the city of the Mallas. And the Mallas chanted hymns of praise
over them: 'These jars now hold the relics great in virtue, as mountains
hold their jewelled ore. No fire harms these relics great in virtue; like
Brahma's realm when all else is burned up. These bones, His friendliness
pervades their tissue; the fire of passion has no strength to burn them;
the power of devotion has preserved them; cold though they are, how
much they warm our hearts!'

For some days they worshipped the relics in due form and with the
utmost devotion. Then, however, one by one, ambassadors from the
seven neighbouring kings arrived in the town, asking for a share of the
relics. But the Mallas, a proud people and also motivated by their esteem
for the relics, refused to surrender any of them. Instead, they were
willing to fight. The seven kings, like the seven winds, then came up with
great violence against Kusinagara, and their forces were like the current
of the flooded Ganges.
 Wiser counsels prevailed, and the Mallas devotedly divided into
eight parts the relics of Him who had understood Life. One part they kept
for themselves. The seven others were handed over to the seven kings,
one to each. And these rulers, thus honoured by the Mallas, returned to
their own kingdoms, joyful at having achieved their purpose. There, with
the appropriate ceremonies, they erected in their capital cities Stupas for
the relics of the Seer.

23. The Scriptures

In due course the five hundred Arhats assembled in Rajagriha, on

the slope of one of its five mountains, and there and then they collected
the sayings of the great Sage, so that his Dharma might abide. Since it
was Ananda who had heard Him speak more often than anyone else, they
decided, with the agreement of the wider Buddhist community, to ask him
to recite His utterances. The sage from Vaideha then sat down in their
midst, and repeated the sermons as they had been spoken by the Best of
All speakers. And each one he began with, 'Thus have I heard', and with a
statement of the time, the place, the occasion, and the person addressed.
It is in this way that he established in conjunction with the Arhats the.
Scriptures which contain the Dharma of the great Sage. They have in the
past led to Nirvana those who have made the effort fully to master them.
They still to-day help them to Nirvana, and they will continue to do so in
the future.

Part Two - Doctrines

1 - Morality

The spiritual training of a Buddhist is divided into three parts,

known respectively as morality, meditation, and wisdom. A morally
blameless or virtuous life is the basis of all other achievements.
 (1) The minimum moral obligations of laymen and monks are
summed up in the Five Precepts, which I have given here together with
the explanation of one of the Pali commentaries, which reached their
present shape in Ceylon at the time of Buddhaghosa, about A.D. 400. (2)
The monks, in their turn, were subject to some 250 rules of monastic
restraint, known as the Pratimoksha rules, of which we possess about a
dozen different recensions. My selection is taken from the Book of
Discipline of the Sarvastivadins, who were the most influential and
widespread of the Indian schools. In any case, the different recensions
agree on all essentials. (3) A more poetical description of the conditions
of the monk's life has been added from the Sutta Nipata, a Pali work of
great antiquity. Here I have been content to print E.M. Hare's translation
from his Woven Cadences of Early Buddhists (1944). This is one of the
finest pieces of Buddhist translation in English, and I cannot hope to
improve on it.

(4) Behind the respect for the moral rules lies the awareness of
the inexorable law of Karma, which rewards good deeds and punishes
evil-doing. Enlightened self-interest should therefore prompt us to lead
good lives. I have illustrated this side of the Buddhist respect for morality
by two chapters, comprising thirty-nine verses, from the Dharmapada,
one of the most revered collections of sacred verses. My translation
follows the recension of the Sarvastivadins which was found some forty
years ago in the sands of Turkestan. Fourteen of the verses occur also in
the Pali Dhammapada, in practically identical words. Twenty-five are not
found in the much better known Pali work. (5) In a still more popular
form, these same principles were re-stated for Tibetans by an unknown
lama of the Kahgyutpa sect, who wrote, perhaps in the eighteenth
century, a poem on 'The Buddha's 'Law among the Birds', which is a fine
example of popular moral Buddhism. His book relates how the
'Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, who represents the principle of compassion,
expounded in the form of a cuckoo the doctrine of the "Buddha to the
assembled birds of Tibet, who in their turn gave expression to as much of
the teaching as thy were able to grasp.
 (6) Finally, the fundamental division of the community into lay-
men and monks, according to their respective attainments and tasks, can
be clarified from the 'Questions of King Milinda'. From the second of these
extracts it becomes clear that faith and devotion, in addition to morality,
are the layman's special province. Generally speaking, the monks alone
can hope to advance from morality to higher things, first to meditation,
and then to wisdom.

1. The Five Precepts

'I undertake to observe the rule

to abstain from taking life;
to abstain from taking what is not given;
to abstain from sensuous misconduct;
to abstain from false speech;
to abstain from intoxicants as tending to cloud the mind.'

The first four precepts are explained by Buddhaghosa as follows:

(1) 'Taking life' means to murder anything that lives. It refers to

the striking and killing of living beings. 'Anything that lives' - ordinary
people speak here of a 'living being', but more philosophically we speak of
'anything that has the lifeforce'. 'Taking life' is then the will to kill
anything that one perceives as having life, to act so as to terminate the
life-force in it, in so far as the will finds expression in bodily action or in
speech. With regard to animals it is worse to kill large ones than small.
Because a more extensive effort is involved. Even where the effort is the
same, the difference in substance must be considered. In the case of
humans the killing is the more blameworthy the more virtuous they are.
Apart from that, the extent of the offence is proportionate to the intensity
of the wish to kill. Five factors are involved: a living being, the perception
of a living being, a thought of murder, the action of carrying it out, and
death as a result of it. And six are the ways in which the offence may be
carried out: with one's own hand, by instigation, by missiles, by slow
poisoning, by sorcery, by psychic power.
 (2) 'To take what is not given' means the appropriation of what is
not given. It refers to the removing of someone else's property, to the
stealing of it, to theft. 'What is not given' means that which belongs to
someone else. 'Taking what is not given' is then the will to steal anything
that one perceives as belonging to someone else, and to act so as to
appropriate it. Its blameworthiness depends partly on the value of the
property stolen, partly on the worth of its owner. Five factors are
involved: someone else's belongings, the awareness that they are
someone else's, the thought of theft, the action of carrying it out, the
taking away as a result of it. This sin, too, may be carried out in six ways.
One may also distinguish unlawful acquisition by way of theft, robbery,
underhand dealings, stratagems, and the casting of lots.

(3) 'Sensuous misconduct' - here 'sensuous' means 'sexual', and

'misconduct' is extremely blameworthy bad behaviour. 'Sensuous
misconduct' is the will to transgress against those whom one should not
go into, and the carrying out of this intention by unlawful physical action.
By 'those one should not go into', first of all men are meant. And then
also twenty kinds of women. Ten of them are under some form of
protection, by their mother, father, parents, brother, sister, family, clan,
co-religionists, by having been claimed from birth onwards, or by the
king's law. The other ten kinds are: women bought with money,
concubines for the fun of it, kept women, women bought by the gift of a
garment, concubines who have been acquired by the ceremony which
consists in dipping their hands into water, concubines who once carried
burdens on their heads, slave girls who are also concubines, servants who
are also concubines, girls captured in war, temporary wives. The offence
is the more serious, the more moral and virtuous the person transgressed
against.

Four factors are involved: someone who should not be gone into,
the thought of cohabiting with that one, the actions which lead to such
cohabitation, and its actual performance. There is only one way of
carrying it out: with one's own body.
 (4) 'False' - this refers to actions of the voice, or actions of the
body, which aim at deceiving others by obscuring the actual facts. 'False
speech' is the will to deceive others by words or deeds. One can also
explain: 'False' means something which is not real, not true. 'Speech' is
the intimation that that is real or true. 'False speech' is then the volition
which leads to the deliberate intimation to someone else that something
is so when it is not so. The seriousness of the offence depends on the
circumstances. If a householder, unwilling to give something, says that he
has not got it, that is a small offence; but to represent something one has
seen with one's own eyes as other than one has seen it, that is a serious
offence. If a mendicant has on his rounds got very little oil or ghee, and if
he then exclaims, 'What a magnificent river flows along here, my
friends!', that is only a rather stale joke, and the offence is small; but to
say that one has seen what one has not seen, that is a serious offence.
Four factors are involved: something which is not so, the thought of
deception, an effort to carry it out, the communication of the falsehood to
someone else. There is only one way of doing it: with one's own body.

'To abstain from' - one crushes or forsakes sin. It means an

abstention which is associated with wholesome thoughts. And it is
threefold: (1) one feels obliged to abstain, (2) one formally undertakes to
do so, (3) one has lost all temptation not to do so.

(1) Even those who have not formally undertaken to observe the
precepts may have the conviction that it is not right to offend against
them. So it was with Cakkana, a Ceylonese boy. His mother was ill, and
the doctor prescribed fresh rabbit meat for her. His brother sent him into
the field to catch a rabbit, and he went as he was bidden. Now a rabbit
had run into a field to eat of the corn, but in its eagerness to get there
had got entangled in a snare, and gave forth cries of distress. Cakkana
followed the sound, and thought: 'This rabbit has got caught there, and it
will make a fine medicine for my mother!' But then he thought again: 'It
is not suitable for me that, in order to preserve my mother's life, I should
deprive someone else of his life.' And so he released the rabbit, and said
to it: 'Run off, play with the other rabbits in the wood, eat grass and drink
water!' On his return he told the story to his brother, who scolded him.
He then went to his mother, and said to her: 'Even without having been
told, I know quite clearly that I should not deliberately deprive any living
being of life.' He then fervently resolved that these truthful words of his
might make his mother well again, and so it actually happened.

(2) The second kind of abstention refers to those who not only
have formally undertaken not to offend against the precepts, but who in
addition are willing to sacrifice their lives for that. This can be illustrated
by a layman who lived near Uttaravarddhamana. He had received the
precepts from Buddharakkhita, the Elder. He then went to plough his
field, but found that his ox had got lost. In his search for the ox he
climbed up the mountain, where a huge snake took hold of him. He
thought of cutting off the snake's head with his sharp knife, but on
further reflection he thought to himself: 'It is not suitable that I, who
have received the Precepts from the venerable Guru, should break them
again.' Three times he thought, 'My life I will give up, but not the
precepts!' and then he threw his knife away. Thereafter the huge viper let
him go, and went somewhere else.

(3) The last kind of abstention is associated with the holy Path. It
does not even occur to the Holy Persons to kill any living being.

2. Rules Of Monastic Restraint

'Here, Venerable Gentlemen, are the four rules about the offences
which deserve expulsion. They should be recited every fortnight in the
Pratimokshasutra:

1. If a monk should have sexual intercourse with anyone, down to

an animal, this monk has fallen into an offence which deserves expulsion,
and he should no longer live in the community. This holds good for any
monk who has entered on a life based on a monk's training, unless he has
thereafter repudiated the training, and declared his weakness.
 2. If a monk, whether he dwells in a village or in solitude, should
take anything not given, he should no longer live in the community. This,
however, only applies to thefts for which a king or his police would seize a
thief, and kill, imprison, banish, fine, or reprove him.

3. If a monk should intentionally take the life of a human being or

of one like a human being, with his own hand, or with a knife, or by
having him assassinated, then he has fallen into an offence which
deserves expulsion. And this applies also to a monk who incites others to
self-destruction, and who speaks to them in praise of death, with such
words as, 'O man, what is the use to you of this miserable life? It is better
for you to die than be alive!'

4. Unless a monk be actuated by excessive self-conceit, he

commits an offence which deserves expulsion if, vainly and without basis
in fact, he falsely claims to have realized and perceived superhuman
states or the fullness of the insight of the Saints; and if later on, whether
questioned or not, in his desire to get rid of his fault and regain his purity,
he admits that he had claimed to have realized, without having done so,
that he had claimed to have perceived, without having done so, and that
he had told a falsehood and lie.

Venerable Gentlemen, the four offences leading to expulsion have

been recited. A monk who has committed any of them should no longer
live in the community. - Now, I ask you, Venerable Ones, 'Are you quite
pure in this matter?' A second and a third time I ask, 'Are you quite pure
in this matter?' The Venerable Ones keep silence. They are therefore
quite pure in this matter. So I do take it to be.

Here, Venerable Gentlemen, are the thirteen offences which

deserve suspension, and which should every fortnight be recited in the
Pratimokshasutra. These forbid a monk:

1. Intentionally to emit his semen, except in a dream.

 2. With a mind excited and perverted by passion to come into
bodily contact with a woman; he must not hold her hand or arm, touch
her hair or any other part of her body, above or below, or rub or caress it.

3. With a mind excited and perverted by passion to persuade a

woman to sexual intercourse, speaking wicked, evil, and vulgar words, as
young men use to their girls.

4. With a mind excited and perverted by passion, in the presence

of a woman to speak highly of the merit of the gift of her own body,
saying: 'That is the supreme service or gift, dear sister, to offer
intercourse to monks like us, who have been observing strict morality,
have abstained from intercourse and lived lovely lives!'

5. To act as a go-between between women and men, arranging

marriage, adultery, or even a brief meeting.

6. To build for himself, without the help of a layman, a temporary

hut on a site which involves the destruction of living beings and has no
open space round it, and that without showing the site to other monks,
and without limiting its size to the prescribed measurements.

7. To build for himself, with the help of a layman, a more

permanent living place on a dangerous and inaccessible site, which
involves the destruction of living beings and has no open space round it,
and that without showing the site to other monks.

8. From anger, malice, and dislike to accuse falsely a pure and

faultless monk of an offence which deserves expulsion, intent on driving
him out of the religious life. That becomes an offence which deserves
suspension if on a later occasion he withdraws his accusation, and admits
to having spoken from hatred; and likewise if—

9. He tries to base his false accusation on some trifling matter or

other which is really quite irrelevant.
 10. To persist, in spite of repeated admonitions, in trying to cause
divisions in a community which lives in harmony, and in emphasizing
those points which are calculated to cause division.

11. To side with a monk who strives to split the community.

12. To refuse to move into another district when reproved by the

other monks for habitually doing evil deeds in a city or village where he
resides, deeds which are seen, heard, and known, and which harm the
families of the faithful. This becomes an offence deserving suspension
when the erring monk persistently answers back, and says: 'You,
Venerable Monks, are capricious, spiteful, deluded, and over-anxious. For
you now want to send me away, though you did not send away other
monks who have committed exactly the same offence.'

13. To refuse to be admonished by others about the non-

observance of the Pratimoksha rules.

These, Venerable Gentlemen, are the thirteen offences which

deserve suspension. The first nine become offences at once, the
remaining four only after the third admonition. The offending monk will
first be put on probation, then for six days and nights he must do
penance, and thereafter he must undergo a special ceremony before he
can be rehabilitated. But he can be reinstated only by a community which
numbers at least twenty monks, not one less.

'Now, three times I ask the Venerable Ones, "Are you quite pure in
this matter?" The Venerable Ones keep silent. They are therefore quite
pure in this matter. And so I take it to be.'

The recitation then continues to enumerate two sexual offences

which are 'punishable according to the circumstances', and then thirty
offences which 'involve forfeiture' of the right to share in garments
belonging to the Order, and which expose one to an unfavourable rebirth.
I am content to give four of these:
 'It is an offence of this kind for a monk: (18) to accept gold or
silver with his own hand, or get someone else to accept or hold it in
deposit for him; (19) to buy various articles with gold and silver; (20) to
engage in any kind of buying or selling; (29) to divert to himself goods
which he knows that the donor had intended for the community.'

Next we come to the ninety offences which, unless repented of

and expiated, will be punished by an unfavourable rebirth. I give eighteen
of these:

'It is an offence of this kind for a monk: (1) knowingly to tell a lie;
(2) to belittle other monks; (3) to slander them; (4) to reopen a dispute
which he knows has already been settled by the community in accordance
with the monastic rules; (5) to preach Dharma in more than five or six
words to a woman, except in the presence of an intelligent man; (6) to
teach Dharma word by word to an unordained person; (7) to announce
his superhuman qualities to an unordained person, even though he may
actually possess them; (8) to inform, except by permission of the
community, an unordained person of a fellow-monk's grave offence; (11)
to destroy any kind of vegetation; (29) to sit alone with a woman in the
open; (40) to ask, when in good health, householders for delicacies like
milk, curds, butter, ghee, oil, fish, cooked or dried meat; (45) to go to
look at an army drawn up in battle-array, except for a valid reason; (54)
to lie down with an unordained person for more than two nights in the
same room; (59) to omit discolouring his new robe with either dark-blue,
dirt-coloured, or black paint; (61) deliberately to deprive an animal of
life; (73) to dig the earth with his own hands, or have it dug, or hint at
the desirability of it being dug; (79) to drink alcoholic beverages; (85) to
have a chair or bed made with legs higher than eight inches.'

The Pratimoksha then gives four offences requiring confession,

113 rules of decorum, 7 rules for the settling of disputes, and it concludes
with a few verses claiming the authority of the Buddhas for this text.
3. The Monk's Life

3a. The Buddha's advice to Sariputra

The monk alert, rapt farer on the edge,

Should have no fear of these five fears:
Gadflies and stinging bees and things that creep,
Attacks of men and of four-footed beasts.
Nor should he be afraid of others' views,
When the great perils of them he hath seen;
So should the expert seeker overcome
All other troubles that may here befall.
When stricken by disease or hunger's pangs,
Cold and excessive heat should he endure;
When stricken sore by them, that homeless man
Must stir up energy and strive with strength.
Let him not steal nor let him tell a lie,
Let him show amity to weak and strong;
And when he knows disquiet of the mind,
Let him expel that as dark Mara's gloom.
Nor must he fall a prey to wrath and pride,
But digging up their roots, let him stay poised;
And, as he wrestles, let him overcome
All that is dear to him, all that repels.
With joy in what is lovely, wisdom-led,
Let him then put to flight these troubles here,
Conquer dislike for his lone lodging place,
Conquer the four that cause him discontent:
'Alack! what shall I eat, and where indeed?
How ill I've slept! Where shall I sleep to-day?'
Whosoe'er trains and leads the homeless life
Must oust these thoughts that lead to discontent.
With food and clothing timely gotten, he
Must therein measure know for his content;
He, faring thus, restrained and curbed, would speak
In village no harsh words, tho' vexed indeed.
 Then let him loiter not, but eyes downcast,
Be ever bent on musing, much awake;
Then let him strive for poise, intent-of-self
Cut doubt and hankering and fretful ways.
Alert, let him rejoice, when urged by words,
Break fallowness in fellow-wayfarers,
Utter in season due the expert word,
Not ponder on the views and talk of folk.
Alert, then let him train to discipline
Those things which are the five dusts in the world:
To conquer lust for forms and sounds and tastes,
To conquer lust for scents and things of touch.
When he hath disciplined desire for these,
Alert, with mind released in full, that monk
As studies he the thing aright, in time
Alone, uplifted, may the darkness rend.

Thus spake the Master.

3b. The Rhinoceros

Put by the rod for all that lives,

Nor harm thou any one thereof;
Long not for son - how then for friend?
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Love cometh from companionship;
In wake of love upsurges ill;
Seeing the bane that comes of love,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
In ruth for all his bosom-friends,
A man, heart-chained, neglects the goal:
Seeing this fear in fellowship,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Tangled as crowding bamboo boughs
Is fond regard for sons and wife:
 As the tall tops are tangle-free,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
The deer untethered roams the wild
Whithersoe'er it lists for food:
Seeing the liberty, wise man,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Free everywhere, at odds with none,
And well content with this and that:
Enduring dangers undismayed,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
If one find friend with whom to fare,
Rapt in the well-abiding, apt,
Surmounting dangers one and all,
With joy fare with him mindfully.
Finding none apt with whom to fare,
None in the well-abiding rapt,
As rajah quits the conquered realm,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Gay pleasures, honeyed, rapturous,
In divers forms churn up the mind:
Seeing the bane of pleasure's brood,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
'They are a plague, a blain, a sore,
A barb, a fear, disease for me!'
Seeing this fear in pleasure's brood,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
The heat and cold, and hunger, thirst,
Wind, sun-beat, string of gadfly, snake:
Surmounting one and all of these,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
As large and full-grown elephant,
Shapely as lotus, leaves the herd
When as he lists for forest haunts,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
 'Tis not for him who loves the crowd
To reach to temporal release:
Word of Sun's kinsman heeding right,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Leaving the vanities of view,
Right method won, the way obtained:
'I know! No other is my guide!'
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Gone greed, gone guile, gone thirst, gone grudge,
And winnowed all delusions, faults,
Wantless in all the world become.
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Play, pleasures, mirth and worldly joys,
Be done with these and heed them not;
Aloof from pomp and speaking truth,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Son, wife and father, mother, wealth,
The things wealth brings, the ties of kin:
Leaving these pleasures one and all,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
They are but bonds, and brief their joys,
And few their sweets, and more their ills,
Hooks in the throat! - this knowing, sure,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
With downcast eyes, not loitering,
With guarded senses, warded thoughts,
With mind that festers not, nor burns,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Shed thou householders' finery,
As coral tree its leaves in fall:
And going forth in yellow clad,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Crave not for tastes, but free of greed,
Moving with measured step from house
To house, support of none, none's thrall,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Rid of the mind's five obstacles,
Void of all stains whate'er, thy trust
In none, with love and hate cut out,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
And turn thy back on joys and pains,
Delights and sorrows known of old;
And gaining poise and calm, and cleansed,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Astir to win the yondmost goal,
Not lax in thought, no sloth in ways,
Strong in the onset, steadfast, firm.
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Neglect thou not to muse apart,
'Mid things by Dharma faring aye,
Alive to all becomings' bane,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Earnest, resolved for craving's end,
Listener, alert, not hesitant,
Striver, assured, with Dharma summed,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Like lion fearful not of sounds,
Like wind not caught within a net,
Like lotus not by water soiled,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
As lion, mighty-jawed and king
Of beasts, fares conquering, so thou;
Taking thy bed and seat remote,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Poise, amity, ruth, and release
Pursue, and timely sympathy;
At odds with none in all the world,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
 And rid of passion, error, hate,
The fetters having snapped in twain,
Fearless whenas life ebbs away,
Fare lonely as rhinoceros.
Folk serve and follow with an aim;
Friends who seek naught are scarce to-day:
Men, wise in selfish aims, are foul:
Fare lonely as rhinoceros!

4. Verses From The Sanskrit Dharmapada

4a. The chapter on Karma

1. A single rule you set aside, or lying words you speak,

The world beyond you ridicule - no evil you won't do!
2. Better for you to swallow a ball of iron red-hot and flaming with fire,
Than on the alms of the people to live, while immoral, indulgent, intemperate.
3. If it's suffering you fear, if it's suffering you dislike,
Just do no evil deeds at all - for all to see or secretly.
4. Even a flight in the air cannot free you from suffering,
After the deed which is evil has once been committed.
5. Not in the sky nor in the ocean's middle,
Nor if you were to hide in cracks in mountains,
Can there be found on this wide earth a corner
Where karma does not catch up with the culprit.
6. But if you see the evil others do, and if you feel you disapprove,
Be careful not to do likewise, for people's deeds remain with them.
7. Those who cheat in business deals, those who act against the Dharma,
Those who swindle, those who trick - not only harm their fellow-men,
They hurl themselves into a gorge, for people's deeds remain with them.
8. Whatever deeds a man may do, be they delightful, be they bad,
They make a heritage for him; deeds do not vanish without trace.
9. A man will steal while profit seems to lie that way.
Then others steal from him, and so the thief by thieving is undone,
 10. The fool, while sinning, thinks and hopes, 'This never will catch up with
me'.
Wait till you're in the other world, and there the fate of sinners learn!
11. The fool, while sinning, thinks and hopes, 'This never will catch up with
me'.
But later on there's bitterness, when punishment must be endured.
12. The fool does evil deeds while unaware of what they lead to.
By his own deeds the stupid man is burnt, as though burnt up by fire.
13. The fools, unwise, behave as though they were their own worst enemies,
Committing many evil deeds which issue then in bitter fruits.
14. Not is an action called 'well done', which makes us suffer afterwards,
Of which we reap the fruit in tears, with weeping, wailing and lament.
15. That action only is 'well done', which brings no suffering in its train,
Of which we reap the fruit quite glad, in happiness, with joyous heart.
16. In hot pursuit of their own joys they laugh when they do evil deeds.
They'll weep with pain and misery, when they receive their punishment.
17. An evil deed need not at once cause trouble to the man who did it.
It keeps up with the careless fool, just as a fire, smouldering under ashes.
18. Just like a new-forged blade the evil deed need not at once cause any
wounds.
Wait till you're in the other world, and there the fate of sinners learn!
For later on there's bitterness, when punishment must be endured.
19. The iron itself createth the rust,
Which slowly is bound to consume it.
The evil-doer by his own deeds
Is led to a life full of suffering.

4b. The chapter on Morality

1. If you want honour, wealth, or, after death, a blissful life among the gods,
Then take good care that you observe the precepts of a moral life!
2. 3. The prudent man will lead a moral life
When he considers it has four rewards:
A sense of virtue gives him peace,
His body is not over-taxed,
At night he sleeps a happy sleep,
 And when he wakes, he wakes with joy.
A holy man, endowed with vision,
He thrives and prospers in this world.
4. How excellent a moral life pursued till death!
How excellent a well-established faith!
And wisdom is for men a treasure which brings merit,
And which the thieves find very hard to steal.
5. The man of wisdom who did good,
The man of morals who gave gifts,
In this world and the next one too,
They will advance to happiness.
6. 7. His moral habits planted firm, his senses well protected,
In eating temperate, and to vigilance inclined,
The monk who feels no weariness, and struggles day and night,
His progress is assured, and he shall win Nirvana soon.
8. 9. His moral habits planted firm, his trance and wisdom first-rate,
Unwearied, zealous, he shall gain, the end of ill for ever.
Let him thus always moral be, preserve his meditation,
And train his insight constantly, a man of thoughtful habits
10. The wise, his fetters burst, the urge for further life exhausted,
No more the prospect of rebirth for him at death, but full release.
11. The man whose moral habits, trances, wise reflections are full-grown,
Secure for ever, pure and happy, he is then exempt from ever coming back again.
12. Free from his fetters, unattached, with perfect knowledge, without will to
live,
Raised high above the range of Mara's realms, he blazes radiant as the sun.
13. When a monk is full of himself, is heedless and given to things that are
outside,
He can never make progress in moral perfection, in trance or in wisdom.
14. Rain presses down on what is covered, but what is open lets it through;
Uncover therefore what is covered, and So the rain will do no harm.
15. The wise will always carefully observe the moral rules,
Thus clearing rapidly the path that to Nirvana leads them.
16. The scent of flowers travels with the wind,
The scent of jasmine travels not against it.
 The odour of the good pervades in all directions,
Their fragrance spreads, whatever be the wind.
17. Sandalwood or tagara scent, lotus flower or jasmine spray,
Nobler than the perfume of all is the fragrance of virtuous lives.
18. Sandalwood or tagara shrubs, trifling the scent which they emit,
Virtuous lives send their fragrance up high to the gods that are above.
19. If your morality is pure, if you are always wakeful and attentive,
If you are freed by knowledge of the truth, then Mara cannot find you when you die.
20. This is the path which to safety leads,
This is the path which brings purity.
If you but tread it, and meditate,
Then you'll escape from Mara's bonds!

5. Popular Moral Buddhism

The Lord Buddha has said:

In The Language Of Angels,

Of Serpents, Of Fairies,
In The Speech Of The Demons,
The Talk Of The Humans,
In Them All I've Expounded
The Dharma's Deep Teachings,
And In Any Tongue
That A Being May Grasp Them.

In order to teach the Dharma unto the feathered folk, the holy
Lord Avalokita, who had transformed himself into a Cuckoo, the great
king of the birds, sat for many years day and night under a large
Sandalwood tree, immobile and in perfect trance.

One day Master Parrot came before the Great Bird, and addressed
him, saying:

Greetings, O great and noble bird!

For one whole year, until to-day,
You've sat there crouching, motionless,
 In the cool shade of a Santal tree.
So silent, dumb and speechless;
Does something anger or disturb your heart?
When, O Great Bird, your trance has ended,
Will you accept these seeds, the fine quintessence of all food?

And thus replied the Great Bird:

Listen then, O parrot skilled in speech!

I have surveyed this ocean of Samsara,
And I have found nothing substantial in it.
Down to the very last, I saw the generations die,
They killed for food and drink - how pitiful!
I saw the strongholds fall, even the newest,
The work of earth and stones consumed - how pitiful!
Foes will take away the hoarded spoils down to the very last,
Oh to have avidly gathered this wealth, and hidden it - how pitiful!
Closest friends will be parted, down to the very last,
Oh, to have formed those living thoughts of affection — how pitiful!
Sons will side with the enemy - even to the youngest,
Oh to have given that care to those who were born of one's body - how pitiful!
Relatives united and intimate friends,
Children reared, and riches stored,
All are impermanent, like an illusion,
And nothing substantial is found in them.
My mind has now forsaken all activity.
So that I may keep constant to my vows.
Here, in the cool shade of a santal tree
I dwell in solitude and silence,
In trance I meditate, from all distractions far removed.
Go thou - repeat this speech of mine
To all large birds, and to all feathered creatures!

The Parrot, skilled in speech, then rose from the middle of the
ranks, and, swaying like a bamboo hurdle, saluted three times and spoke
as follows:
 Greetings, you great and noble bird!
Though you are weary and disgusted with Samsara,
We beg you, give a little thought to us!
Ignorant and deluded creatures that we are;
The effects of many misdeeds in our past
Have tied us to this suffering, bound us, chained us.
We beg of you the good Dharma freeing us from suffering,
We beg the light dispelling all our ignorance,
We beg from you the Dharma - the cure of all defilements,
Birds of every kind assembled here,
We beg of you the good Dharma that we may ponder on it.

The Great Bird then spoke again as follows:

Smoke a sign of fire is,

The Southern cloud a sign of rain.
The little child will be a man,
The foal a stallion one day.

Deep thinking about death will lead to the unique and worthy
Dharma. The rejection of attachment to the wheel of Samsara, the belief
in the retribution of all deeds, mindfulness of the impermanence and
mortality of this life - these are signs that we approach the unique,
worthy Dharma. O Birds assembled here, is there anything of this nature
in your minds? Tell me then your thoughts!

Thereupon the Golden Goose rose, shook his wings three times,
and said: nan stud nan stud, which means, that prolongs the bondage,
that prolongs the bondage.

To remain from birth to death without the Good Law - that prolongs the
bondage.
To desire emancipation, and still deserve a state of woe - that prolongs the bondage.
To hope for miraculous blessings, and still have wrong opinions - that prolongs the
bondage.
To neglect those things which turn the mind towards salvation - that prolongs the
bondage.
 To strive for purity of vision, and yet be blinded by a faulty judgement - that
prolongs the bondage.
To give and yet be checked by meanness - that prolongs the bondage.
To aim at lasting achievements while still exposed to this world's distractions - that
prolongs the bondage.
To try to understand one's inner mind while still chained to hopes and fears - that
prolongs the bondage.
All you who thus prolong your bondage within this ocean of suffering,
Try to grasp the meaning of my words, for they will shorten your bondage.

Thereupon the Raven with his great wings rose, made a few
sideways steps, and said: grogs yon grogs yon, which means, help will
come, help will come.

When you have been true to your vows, help will come in the form of a happy
life among men.
When you have given gifts, help will come in the form of future wealth.
When you have performed the acts of worship, help will come from the guardian
angels.
When your solemn promises are made in all good faith, help will come from the love
of the fairies.
When you are alert at the sacrificial festivals, help will come from the Guardians of
the Dharma.
When in this life you learn to enter into higher meditation, help will come from the
future Buddha.
Learn therefore to gain these virtues, for help comes through them.

Thereupon the Cock, the domestic bird, rose, flapped his wings
three times, and said: e go e go, which means, do you understand that?
Do you understand that?

Whilst you live in this samsaric world, no lasting happiness can be yours
- do you understand that?
To the performance of worldly actions there is no end
- do you understand that?
In flesh and blood there is no permanence
- do you understand that?
 The presence, at all times, of Mara, the Lord of Death
- do you understand that?
Even the rich man, when he is laid low, departs alone
- do you understand that?
He has no strength to take the wealth he gathered
- do you understand that?
Our bodies, so dear to us, will feed the birds and dogs
- do you understand that?
Wherever the mind may go, it cannot control its fate
- do you understand that?
We are bound to lose those we love and trust
- do you understand that?
Punishment follows the evil we do
- do you understand that?
Wherever one looks, nothing is there substantial
- do you understand that?

Then from the centre of the ranks rose the Parrot, skilled in
speech, and said:

Listen, you beings of this samsaric world:

What you desire is happiness, what you find is grief.
While you inhabit a state of woe, salvation is not yet at hand.
Thinking on this must make me sad.
I now recall the good, the unique Law;
Hear it, you denizens of this samsaric world,
Perennial for time without beginning.
Because its benefits are so immense,
Let us here recall that unique Dharma:
'These ills in our state of woe are but the fruits of evil deeds,
The karmic outcome of your own accumulated acts;
For you and only you could make them.'
So now strip off the veil that clouds your thoughts:
This life, like dew on grass, is but impermanent,
And your remaining here for ever out of question.
So here and now, think on these things, and make your effort!
 'The pain from heat and cold in hell,
The hunger and the thirst which Pretas feel,
All are the fruits of evil deeds.' So has the Muni spoken.
Here, from within my heart, I make the vow
To shun all evil - to achieve the good.
From deep within my heart I seek my refuge
In the Three Treasures ever changeless,
Never failing, never fading,
Our precious ally through the whole of time.
In my mind, now free from doubt, is faith established.
Resolved to know the holy Dharma,
I now reject all things in this samsaric world.
And so, you great and noble bird,
We, this assembly, beg you grant us
Your esteemed instruction, teach us to understand the nature of all life!

So he spoke, and made three salutations.

Thereupon the Cuckoo, the Great Bird, spoke as follows:

Birds, large and small assembled here, well have you understood.
In all the speeches you have made not one has denied the truth. Well
have you spoken, well indeed! With undistracted mind keep well these
words within your hearts. And so, O birds assembled here, the large birds
and also the little youngsters lucky to be here, hear me with reverence
and attention!

The things of this samsaric world are all illusion, like a dream.
Where'er one looks, where is their substance?
Palaces built of earth and stone and wood,
Wealthy men endowed with food and dress and finery,
Legions of retainers who throng round the mighty -
These are like castles in the air, like rainbows in the sky.
And how deluded those who think of this as truth!
When uncles — nephews — brothers — sisters gather as kindred do,
When couples and children gather as families do,
When friends and neighbours gather in good fellowship —
These are like meetings of dream friends, like travellers sharing food with strangers.
And how deluded those who think of this as truth!
This phantom body grown in uterine water from a union of seed and blood -
Our habitual passions springing from the bad deeds of our past,
Our thoughts provoked by divers apparitions -
All are like flowers in autumn, clouds across the sky.
How deluded, O assembled birds, if you have thought of them as permanent.
The splendid plumage of the peacock with its many hues,
Our melodious words in which notes high and low are mingled,
The link of causes and effects which now have brought us here together -
They are like the sound of echoes, the sport of a game of illusion.
Meditate on this illusion, do not seize on them as truth!
Mists on a lake, clouds across a southern sky,
Spray blown by wind above the sea,
Lush fruits ripened by the summer sun -
In permanence they cannot last; in a trice they separate and fall away.
Meditate on their illusion, do not think of them as permanent!

When he finished speaking, the birds all rose with joy, danced a
while through the air, and sang their songs.

'Happiness be yours and gladness too - may you prosper!' said the
Great Bird, happy that he had come there. 'Cuckoo, cuckoo,' he sang,
'the light shed by the Dharma of the Birds brings me happiness. In joy
and gladness leap and sway together in this graceful dance sing your
songs and may you thrive!'

'May you prosper, may you prosper,' he said, happy to be in that

plentiful land. 'Cuckoo, cuckoo,' he sang, 'I am happy because the
essence of the Dharma of the Birds has enriched you. In joy and gladness
leap and sway together in this graceful dance! Sing your songs, and may
you thrive!'

'Cu cu, ci ci,' he said, glad that all these hosts of birds had come
together. 'Cuckoo, cuckoo,' he sang, 'I am happy because I could give
you the Dharma of the Birds. In joy and gladness leap and sway together
in this graceful dance! Sing your songs, and may you thrive! Sing your
happy songs which carry far! Dance your greatly joyful dance! Now you
have won your hearts' desire.'

All the birds sang happy songs, leapt up and danced with
gladness, and wished each other good fortune and abounding joy. They
then accompanied the Great Bird for one whole day, and the Great Bird
without mishap returned to India. On their way back, the birds of Tibet
slept all together under a tree. The next day, when the sun of
Jambudvipa rose, thrice they circled the tree where they had met,
exchanged their hopes for another such joyful meeting, and each one,
satisfied, returned on wings to his dwelling place.

6. Laymen And Monks

6a. Their respective attainments

King Milinda said: 'Venerable Nagasena, the Lord has said: "Right
spiritual progress is praiseworthy for householders and homeless
wanderers alike. Both householders and homeless wanderers, when
progressing rightly, can accomplish, because of their right progress, the
right method, the Dharma, that which is wholesome." If, Nagasena, a
householder, dressed in white, enjoying the pleasures of the senses,
inhabiting a house overcrowded with wife and family, using the
sandalwood of Benares, as well as garlands, perfumes and unguents,
owning gold and silver, wearing a turban ornamented with gold and
jewels, can, if he progresses rightly, accomplish the right method, the
Dharma, the wholesome; and if a homeless wanderer, bald-headed, clad
in the saffron robe, dependent on begging for his livelihood, careful to
fulfill correctly the four Sections of monastic morality, submitting to the
150 Patimokkha rules, and observing all the thirteen Austere Practices,
without omitting any one, can also, if he progresses rightly, accomplish
the right method, the Dharma, the wholesome; then, Venerable Sir, what
is the difference between the householder and the homeless wanderer?
Fruitless is your austerity, useless is the homeless life, barren is the
observation of the Patimokkha rules, in vain do you observe the austere
practices! What is the use of your inflicting pain upon yourself if you can
thus while remaining at ease win the ease of Nirvana?'

Nagasena replied: 'You have quoted the Lord's words correctly,

your majesty. To make right progress is indeed the most excellent thing
of all. And if the homeless wanderer, in the consciousness of being a
homeless wanderer, should fail to progress rightly, then he would be far
from the state of an ascetic, far from a holy life; and still more so would
that apply to a householder dressed in white. But both the householder
and the homeless wanderer are alike in that, when they progress rightly,
they accomplish the right method, the Dharma, the wholesome. And
nevertheless, your majesty, it is the homeless wanderer who is the lord
and master of the ascetic life, and to be a homeless wanderer has many,
has numerous, has infinite virtues. To measure the virtues of being a
homeless wanderer is not at all possible. It is as with a jewel that fulfils
all one's wishes; one cannot measure its value in terms of money, and
say that it is worth so much. Or it is as with the waves in the great ocean,
which one cannot measure and say that there are so many. All that the
homeless wanderer still has to do, he succeeds in doing rapidly and
without taking a long time over it. And why is that so? Because the
homeless wanderer, your majesty, is content with little, easily pleased,
secluded from the world, not addicted to society, energetic, independent,
solitary, perfect in his conduct, austere in his practice, skilled in all that
concerns purification and spiritual progress. He is like your javelin, your
majesty. Because that is smooth, even, well polished, straight and
shining clean, therefore, when well thrown, it will fly exactly as you want
it to. In the same way, whatever the homeless wanderer still has to do,
he succeeds in doing it all rapidly and without taking a long time over it.'

'Well spoken, Nagasena. So it is, and so I accept it.'

And Nagasena continued: 'But, in any case, your majesty, all

those who as householders, living in a home and in the enjoyment of
sensuous pleasures, realize the peace of Nirvana, the highest good, they
have all been trained in their former lives in the thirteen Austere Practices
peculiar to monks, and through them they have laid the foundations for
their present sanctity. It is because then they had purified their conduct
and behaviour by means of them, that now even as householders, living
in a home and in the enjoyment of sense-pleasures, they can realize the
peace of Nirvana, the highest good.

'But whosoever enters the Order of monks from bad motives, from
covetousness, deceitfully, out of greed and gluttony, desirous of gain,
fame, or reputation, unsuitably, unqualified, unfit, unworthy, unseemingly
- he shall incur a twofold punishment, which will prove ruinous to all his
good qualities: in this very life he shall be scorned, derided, reproached,
ridiculed and mocked; he shall be shunned, expelled, ejected, removed,
and banished. And in his next life, like foam which is tossed about, up
and down and across, he shall cook for many hundreds of thousands of
kotis of years in the great Avici hell, which is a hundred leagues big, and
all ablaze with hot, scorching, fierce, and fiery flames. And when he has
been released thence, his entire body will become emaciated, rough, and
black, his head swollen, bloated and full of holes; hungry and thirsty,
disagreeable and dreadful to look at, his ears all torn, his eyes constantly
blinking, his whole body one putrid mass of sores and dense with
maggots, his bowels all afire and blazing like a mass of fire fanned by a
breeze, helpless and unprotected, weeping, crying, wailing, and
lamenting, consumed by unsatisfied longings, he that once was a
religious wanderer shall then, now a large Preta, roam about on the earth
bewailing his fate.

'But if, on the other hand, a monk enters the Order suitably,
qualified, fit, worthy and seemingly, content with little, easily pleased,
secluded from the world, not addicted to society, energetic and resolute,
without fraudulence and deceit, not gluttonous, not desirous of gain,
fame, or reputation, devout and from faith, from a desire to free himself
from old age and death and to uphold the Buddha's religion, then he
deserves to be honoured in two ways by both gods and men. He is dear
and pleasing to them, they love him and seek after him. He is to them as
fine jasmine flowers are to a man bathed and anointed, or good food to
the hungry, or a cool, clear, and fragrant drink to the thirsty, or an
effective medicine to those who are poisoned, or a superb chariot drawn
by thoroughbreds to those who want to travel fast, or a wishing jewel to
those who want to enrich themselves, or a brilliantly white parasol, the
emblem of royalty, to those who like to be kings, or as the supreme
attainment of the fruit of Arhatship to those who wish for Dharma. In him
the four applications of mindfulness reach their full development, the four
right efforts, the four roads to psychic power, the five cardinal virtues,
the five powers, the seven limbs of enlightenment, and the holy eightfold
path; he attains to calm and insight, his progressive attainments continue
to mature, and he becomes a repository of the four Fruits of the religious
life, of the four Analytical knowledges, the three kinds of Knowledge, and
the six Super-knowledges, in short, of the whole Dharma of the religious
life, and he is consecrated with the brilliantly white parasol of
emancipation.'

6b. Their respective tasks, and the question of the

adoration of relics

King Milinda asked: 'The Tathagata has said: "Do not occupy
yourselves, Ananda, with worshipping the bodily remains of the
Tathagata!" And, on the other hand, we have been told:

Worship the relics of Him who is worthy of worship!

By doing so you'll go from here to paradise.

'Now if the first injunction were right, the second must be wrong,
and if the second be right the first must be wrong. This is another
dilemma, which I now put to you, and which you must solve.' Nagasena
replied: 'The sentence, "Do not occupy yourselves, Ananda, with
worshipping the bodily remains of the Tathagata!" was not addressed to
everyone, but only to the Jina's sons, the monks. For worship is not their
work. But the thorough understanding of all conditioned things, wise
attention, the consideration of the applications of mindfulness, the seizing
of the real essence of all objects of thought, the battle with the passions,
and the pursuit of the highest good - that is what the Jina's sons have to
do. Worship, however, is the task of the other gods and men. So, your
majesty, it is the business of the princes of this earth to know all about
elephants, horses, chariots, bows, swords, edicts, and seals, to be well
versed in the textbooks of statecraft, in its tradition and customs, and to
lead people into battle, whereas agriculture, trade, and the care of cattle
are the tasks of other people, of ordinary traders, cultivators, and
servants. The Tathagata therefore urged the monks to devote themselves
to their own work, and not to that of others, when he said, "Do not
occupy yourselves, Ananda, with worshipping the bodily remains of the
Tathagata!" If the Tathagata had not said this, the monks might have
taken his bowl and robe, and made it their business to worship the
Buddha through them.' 'Very good, Nagasena. So it is, and so I accept it.'

2 - Meditation

In its insistence on morality, Buddhism is very much like most

other religions. With Hindus, Taoists, Sufis, and Christian contemplatives
the Buddhists share the belief that the higher spiritual life can be lived
only in and through meditation.

(1) First of all I have given the twenty-eight advantages of

meditation, which Nagasena enumerates for King Menandros, so that the
reader may get some idea of the benefits expected from this practice of
quiet and abstracted musing, at first sight so barren and unprofitable. (2)
Meditation differs from ordinary behaviour in that it implies a withdrawal
from all outward activities and objects, an extreme introversion, which is
held to open up a new world of reality beyond the ken of ordinary men.
This attitude has been beautifully described by Shantideva, a Mahayana
author of the seventh century, in his poem on the 'Practices of a
Bodhisattva'. (3) The technical details of meditation do not fall within the
scope of this book. The best textbook is Buddhaghosa's Path of
Purification, of which a reliable translation by the Bhikkhu Nyanamoli has
recently been published in Ceylon. On the other hand, it would be quite
unthinkable to withhold all information about the practice of meditation,
and I have again had recourse to a source intended for laymen. In
Asvaghosha's poem on 'Nanda the Fair' the Buddha explains to Nanda the
more elementary stages of meditation in clear and easy terms. For the
more advanced practices I must refer to Buddhaghosa, or to my own
book on Buddhist Meditation (1956). (4) Not all kinds of meditation are
equally salutary for everyone, and the psychological constitution of the
disciple is important in his choice of a suitable subject. Recently there
have been many attempts to divide people into types. It may be of
interest to compare them with the division into six types which Buddhist
tradition has adopted. I have followed here the 'Path to Purity' of
Buddhaghosa, which has been my source also in the following extract (5),
about the five miraculous powers. It is indeed a cherished belief among
Buddhists that meditation not only widens the range of our spiritual
awareness, but also adds one dimension or more to our actual existence,
by awakening our psychic and supernatural gifts. These occult powers of
the more advanced saints are a stock item of all Buddhist writing. In
deference to the scepticism of the present age I have chosen a
particularly sober and restrained account. Tibetan sources are more
exuberant.

Finally, there is one development of meditation which has received

so much attention in Europe that I cannot altogether pass it by. (6) It is
the Zen, or Meditation, School. For the word 'Zen' (Chinese: Ch'an)
comes from Sanskrit Dhyana, and simply means 'Meditation'. The two
extracts I have given are Mr T. Leggett's translations of two essays by
modern Japanese monks, the second being the Primate of the Soto sect.
For Japanese Zen is divided into two main sects -Kinvat, which stresses
the importance of wrestling with certain riddles, technically called koans,
and Soto which does not. Soto, was introduced into Japan in 1127 by the
Dogen mentioned on p. 138. The sentence on page 144, 'the practice is
enlightenment' is one of the key phrases of the sect. The Buddha-nature
is ever-present, not something to be attained or awaited, but only to be
realised. The translations appeared first in Self-knowledge, the quarterly
journal of the ShantiSadan, in 1957 (VIII, I) and 1934 (v, 3). We will
meet the Zen school twice again later on, once (n, 3, 5) in its formulation
of wisdom, and then (II, 5, 4) in debate with other forms of wisdom-
Buddhism.

1. The Advantages Of Meditation

SECLUDED meditation has many virtues. All the Tathagatas have

won their all-knowledge in a state of secluded meditation, and, even after
their enlightenment, they have continued to cultivate meditation in the
recollection of the benefits it brought to them in the past. It is just as a
man who has received some boon from a king, and who would, in
recollection of the benefits he has had, remain also in the future in
attendance on that king.

There are, in fact, twenty-eight advantages to be gained from

secluded meditation, and they are the reason why the Tathagatas have
devoted themselves to it. They are as follows: secluded meditation
guards him who meditates, lengthens his life, gives him strength, and
shuts out faults; it removes ill-fame, and leads to good repute; it drives
out discontent, and makes for contentment; it removes fear, and gives
confidence; it removes sloth and generates vigour; it removes greed,
hate, and delusion; it slays pride, breaks up preoccupations, makes
thought one-pointed, softens the mind, generates gladness, makes one
venerable, gives rise to much profit, makes one worthy of homage, brings
exuberant joy, causes delight, shows the own-being of all conditioned
things, abolishes rebirth in the world of becoming, and it bestows all the
benefits of an ascetic life. These are the twenty-eight advantages of
meditation which induce the Tathagatas to practise it.

And it is because the Tathagatas wish to experience the calm and

easeful delight of meditational attainments that they practise meditation
with this end in view. Four are the reasons why the Tathagatas tend
meditation: so that they may dwell at ease; on account of the
manifoldness of its faultless virtues; because it is the road to all holy
 states without exception; and because it has been praised, lauded,
exalted, and commended by all the Buddhas.

2. The Practice Of Introversion

With his vigour grown strong, his mind should be placed in samadhi;
For if thought be distracted we lie in the fangs of the passions.
No distractions can touch the man who's alone both in his body and mind.
Therefore renounce you the world, give up all thinking discursive!
Thirsting for gain, and loving the world, the people fail to renounce it.
But the wise can discard this love, reflecting as follows:
Through stillness joined to insight true,
His passions are annihilated.
Stillness must first of all be found.
That springs from disregarding worldly satisfactions.
Shortlived yourself, how can you think that others, quite as fleeting, are
worthy of your love?
Thousands of births will pass without a sight of him you cherish so.
When unable to see your beloved, discontent disturbs your samadhi;
When you have seen, your longing, unsated as ever, returns as before.
Then you forfeit the truth of the Real; your fallen condition shocks you no
longer;
Burning with grief you yearn for re-union with him whom you cherish.
Worries like these consume a brief life - over and over again to no purpose;
You stray from the Dharma eternal, for the sake of a transient friend.
To share in the life of the foolish will lead to the states of woe;
You share not, and they will hate you; what good comes from contact with fools?
Good friends at one time, of a sudden they dislike you,
You try to please them, quite in vain - the worldly are not easily contented!
Advice on their duties stirs anger; your own good deeds they impede;
When you ignore what they say they are angry, and head for a state of woe.
Of his betters he is envious, with his equals there is strife;
To inferiors he is haughty, mad for praise and wroth at blame;
Is there ever any goodness in these foolish common men?
 Self-applause, belittling others, or encouragement to sin,
Some such evil's sure to happen where one fool another meets.
Two evils meet when fools consort together.
Alone I'll live, in peace and with unblemished mind.
Far should one flee from fools. When met, they should be won by kindness,
Not in the hope of intimacy, but so as to preserve an even, holy, mind.
Enough for Dharma's work I'll take from him, just as a bee takes honey from
a flower.
Hidden and unknown, like the new moon, I will live my life.
The fools are no one's friends, so have the Buddhas taught us;
They cannot love unless their interest in themselves impels them.
Trees do not show disdain, and they demand no toilsome wooing;
Fain would I now consort with them as my companions.
Fain would I dwell in a deserted sanctuary, beneath a tree, or in a cave,
In noble disregard for all, and never looking back on what I left.
Fain would I dwell in spacious regions owned by no one,
And there, a homeless wanderer, follow my own mind,
A clay bowl as my only wealth, a robe that does not tempt the robbers,
Dwelling exempt from fear, and careless of my body.
Alone a man is born, and quite alone he also meets his death;
This private anguish no one shares; and friends can only bar true welfare.
Those who travel through Becoming should regard each incarnation
As no more than a passing station on their journey through Samsara.
So will I ever tend delightful and untroubled solitude,
Bestowing bliss, and stilling all distractions.
And from all other cares released, the mind set on collecting my own spirit,
To unify and discipline my spirit I will strive.

3. The Progressive Steps Of Meditation

The restraint of the senses

By taking your stand on mindfulness you must hold back from the
sense-objects your senses, unsteady by nature. Fire, snakes, and
lightning are less inimical to us than our own senses, so much more
dangerous. For they assail us all the time. Even the most vicious enemies
can attack only some people at some times, and not at others, but
everybody is always and everywhere weighed down by his senses. And
people do not go to hell because some enemy has knocked them down
and cast them into it; it is because they have been knocked down by their
unsteady senses that they are helplessly dragged there. Those attacked
by external enemies may, or may not, suffer injury to their souls; but
those who are weighed down by the senses suffer in body and soul alike.
For the five senses are rather like arrows which have been smeared with
the poison of fancies, have cares for their feathers and happiness for their
points, and fly about in the space provided by the range of the sense-
objects; shot off by Kama, the God of Love, they hit men in their very
hearts as a hunter hits a deer, and if men do not know how to ward off
these arrows they will be their undoing; when they come near us we
should stand firm in self-control, be agile and steadfast, and ward them
off with the great armour of mindfulness. As a man who has subdued his
enemies can everywhere live and sleep at ease and free from care, so can
he who has pacified his senses. For the senses constantly ask for more by
way of worldly objects, and normally behave like voracious dogs who can
never have enough. This disorderly mob of the senses can never reach
satiety, not by any amount of sense-objects; they are rather like the sea,
which one can go on indefinitely replenishing with water.

In this world the senses cannot be prevented from being active,

each in its own sphere. But they should not be allowed to grasp either the
general features of an object, or its particularities. When you have beheld
a sight-object with your eyes, you must merely determine the basic
element (which it represents, e.g. it is a 'sight-object') and should not
under any circumstances fancy it as, say, a woman or a man. But if now
and then you have inadvertently grasped something as a 'woman' or a
'man', you should not follow that up by determining the hairs, teeth, etc.,
as lovely. Nothing should be subtracted from the datum, nothing added to
it; it should be seen as it really is, as what it is like in real truth.
 If you thus try to look continually for the true reality in that which
the senses present to you, covetousness and aversion will soon be left
without a foothold. Coveting ruins those living beings who are bent on
sensuous enjoyment by means of pleasing forms, like an enemy with a
friendly face who speaks loving words, but plans dark deeds. But what is
called 'aversion' is a kind of anger directed towards certain objects, and
anyone who is deluded enough to pursue it is bound to suffer for it either
in this or a future life. Afflicted by their likes and dislikes, as by excessive
heat or cold, men will never find either happiness or the highest good as
long as they put their trust in the unsteady senses.

How the senses cause bondage

A sense-organ, although it may have begun to react to a sense-

object, does not get caught up in it unless the mind conceives imaginary
ideas about the object. Both fuel and air must be present for a fire to
blaze up; so the fire of the passions is born from a combination of a
sense-object with imaginations. For people are tied down by a sense-
object when they cover it with unreal imaginations; likewise they are
liberated from it when they see it as it really is. The sight of one and the
same object may attract one person, repel another, and leave a third
indifferent; a fourth may be moved to withdraw gently from it. Hence the
sense-object itself is not the decisive cause of either bondage or
emancipation. It is the presence or absence of imaginations which
determines whether attachment takes place or not. Supreme exertions
should therefore be made to bring about a restraint of the senses; for
unguarded senses lead to suffering and continued becomings. In all
circumstances you should therefore watch out for these enemies which
cause so much evil, and you should always control them, i.e. your seeing,
hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching. Do not be negligent in this
matter even for a moment. The onrush of sense-experiences must be
shut out with the sluicegate of mindfulness.
 Moderation in eating

Moreover you must learn to be moderate in eating, and eat only

enough to remain healthy, and fit for trance. For excessive food obstructs
the flow of the breath as it goes in and out, induces lassitude and
sleepiness, and kills all valour. And as too much food has unfortunate
consequences, so also starvation does not lead to efficiency. For
starvation drains away the body's volume, lustre, firmness, performance,
and strength. You should take food in accordance with your individual
capacity, neither too much, nor, from pride, too little. As somebody with
a running sore puts healing ointment on it, so the man who seeks
liberation should use food only to remove his hunger. As the axle of a
chariot must be lubricated so that it may work properly, so the wise man
employs food only to maintain his life. He takes care of his body, and
carries it along with him, not because he has any affection for it, but
simply because it enables him to cross the flood of suffering. The spiritual
man offers food to his body merely to dispel hunger, and not from greed,
or from any love for it.

The avoidance of sleep

After he has passed his day in keeping his mind collected, the self-
possessed man should shake off his sleepiness and spend also the night
in the practice of Yoga. When threatened with sleepiness you should
constantly mobilize in your mind the factors of exertion and fortitude, of
stamina and courage. You should repeat long passages from the
Scriptures which you know by heart, expound them to others and reflect
on them yourself. In order to keep awake all the time, wet your face with
water, look round in all directions and fix your eyes on the stars. With
your senses turned inwards, unmoved and well-controlled, with your mind
undistracted, you should walk about or sit down at night. Fear, zest, and
grief keep sleepiness away; therefore cultivate these three when you feel
drowsy. Fear is best fostered by the thought of death coming upon you,
zest by thinking of the blessings of the Dharma, grief by dwelling on the
boundless ills which result from birth. These, and similar steps, my friend,
you should take to keep awake. For what wise man would not regret
sleeping away his life uselessly? In fact a wise man, who wants to be
saved from the great danger, would not want to go to sleep while
ignoring his faults, which are like vicious snakes that have crept into a
house. Who would think of lying down to sleep undisturbed when the
whole living world is like a house on fire, blazing with the flames of death,
disease, and old age? Therefore you should recognize sleep as a
darkening of your mind, and it would be unworthy of you to become
absorbed in it while your faults are still with you and threaten you like
enemies with their swords. The first three of the nine hours of the night
you should spend in strenuous activity; then only should you rest your
body, and lie down to sleep, but without relaxing your self-control. With a
tranquil mind you should lie on your right side, you should look forward to
the time when you will wake up and when the sun will shine again. In the
third watch you should get up, and, either walking or sitting, with a pure
mind and well-guarded senses, continue your practice of Yoga.

Full awareness of the postures, etc.

You are further asked to apply mindfulness to your sitting,

walking, standing, looking, speaking, and so on, and to remain fully
conscious in all your activities. The man who has imposed strict
mindfulness on all he does, and remains as watchful as a gatekeeper at a
city-gate, is safe from injury by the passions, just as a well-guarded town
is safe from its foes. No defilement can arise in him whose mindfulness is
directed on all that concerns his body. On all occasions he guards his
thought, as a nurse guards a child. Without the armour of mindfulness a
man is an easy target for the defilements, just as on a battlefield
someone who has lost his armour is easily shot by his enemies. A mind
which is not protected by mindfulness is as helpless as a sightless man
walking over uneven ground without a guide. Loss of mindfulness is the
reason why people engage in useless pursuits, do not care for their own
true interests, and remain unalarmed in the presence of things which
actually menace their welfare. And, as a herdsman runs after his
scattered cows, so mindfulness runs after all the virtues, such as
morality, etc., wherever they can be found. The Deathless is beyond the
reach of those who disperse their attention, but it is within the grasp of
those who direct their mindfulness on all that concerns the body. Without
mindfulness no one can have the correct holy method; and in the absence
of the holy method he has lost the true Path. By losing the true Path he
has lost the road to the Deathless; the Deathless being outside his reach,
he cannot win freedom from suffering. Therefore you should superintend
your walking by thinking 'I am walking', your standing by thinking 'I am
standing', and so on; that is how you are asked to apply mindfulness to
all such activities.

The advantages of solitary meditation

Then, my friend, you should find yourself a living-place which, to

be suitable for Yoga, must be without noise and without people. First the
body must be placed in seclusion; then detachment of the mind is easy to
attain. But those who do not like to live in solitude, because their hearts
are not at peace and because they are full of greed, they will hurt
themselves there, like someone who walks on very thorny ground
because he cannot find the proper road. It is no easier to deny the urges
of a man who has not seen the real truth, and who finds himself standing
in the fairground of the sensory world, fascinated by its brightness, than
it is to deny those of a bull who is eating corn in the middle of a cornfield.
A brightly shining fire, when not stirred by the wind, is soon appeased; so
the unstimulated heart of those who live in seclusion wins peace without
much effort. One who delights in solitude is content with his own
company, eats wherever he may be, lodges anywhere, and wears just
anything. To shun familiarity with others, as if they were a thorn in the
flesh, shows a sound judgement, and helps to accomplish a useful
purpose and to know the taste of a happy tranquillity. In a world which
takes pleasure in worldly conditions and which is made unrestful by the
sense-objects, he dwells in solitude indifferent to worldly conditions, as
one who has attained his object, who is tranquil in his heart. The solitary
man then drinks the nectar of the Deathless, he becomes content in his
heart, and he grieves for the world made wretched by its attachment to
sense-objects. If he is satisfied with living alone for a long time in an
empty place, if he refrains from dallying with the agents of defilement,
regarding them as bitter enemies, and if, content with his own company,
he drinks the nectar of spiritual exultation, then he enjoys a happiness
greater than that of paradise.

Concentration, and the forsaking of idle thoughts

Sitting cross-legged in some solitary spot, hold your body straight,

and for a time keep your attention in front of you, either on the tip of the
nose or the space on your forehead between the eyebrows. Then force
your wandering mind to become wholly occupied with one object. If that
mental fever, the preoccupation with sensuous desires, should dare to
attack you, do not give your consent, but shake it off, as if it were dust
on your clothes. Although, out of wise consideration, you may habitually
eschew sense-desires, you can definitely rid yourself of them only
through an antidote which acts on them like sunshine on darkness. There
remains a latent tendency towards them, like a fire hidden under the
ashes; this, like fire by water, must be put out by systematic meditation.
As plants sprout forth from a seed, so sense-desires continue to come
forth from that latent tendency; they will cease only when that seed is
destroyed. When you consider what sufferings these sense-pleasures
entail, by way of their acquisition, and so on, you will be prepared to cut
them off at the root, for they are false friends. Sense-pleasures are
impermanent, deceptive, trivial, ruinous, and largely in the power of
others; avoid them as if they were poisonous vipers! The search for them
involves suffering and they are enjoyed in constant Disquiet; their loss
leads to much grief, and their gain can never result in lasting satisfaction.
A man is lost if he expect contentment from great possessions, the
fulfillment of all his wishes from entry into heaven, or happiness from the
sense-pleasures. These sense-pleasures are not worth paying any
attention to, for they are unstable, unreal, hollow, and uncertain, and the
happiness they can give is merely imaginary.

But if ill-will or the desire to hurt others should stir your mind,
purify it again with its opposite, which will act on it like a wishing jewel on
muddied water. Friendliness and compassionateness are, you should
know, their antidotes; for they are forever as opposed to hatred as light
is to darkness. A man who, although he has learned to abstain from overt
immoral acts, still persists in nursing ill-will, harms himself by throwing
dirt over himself, like an elephant after his bath. For a holy man forms a
tender estimate of the true condition of mortal beings, and how should he
want to inflict further suffering on them when they are already suffering
enough from disease, death, old age, and so on? With his malevolent
mind a man may cause damage to others, or he may not; in any case his
own malevolent mind will be forthwith burned up. Therefore you should
strive to think of all that lives with friendliness and compassion, and not
with ill-will and a desire to hurt. For whatever a man thinks about
continually, to that his mind becomes inclined by the force of habit.
Abandoning what is unwholesome, you therefore ought to ponder what is
wholesome; for that will bring you advantages in this world and help you
to win the highest goal. For unwholesome thoughts will grow when nursed
in the heart, and breed misfortunes for yourself and others alike. They
not only bring calamities to oneself by obstructing the way to supreme
beatitude, but they also ruin the affection of others, because one ceases
to be worthy of it.

You must also learn to avoid confusion in your mental actions, and
you should, my friend, never think even one single unwholesome
thought. All the ideas in your mind which are tainted by greed, hate, and
delusion deprive you of virtue and fashion your bondage. Delusion injures
others, brings hardship to oneself, soils the mind, and may well lead to
hell. It is better for you not to hurt yourself with such unwholesome
thoughts 1 Just as an unintelligent person might burn precious aloe wood
as if it were a piece of ordinary timber, so by not observing the correct
method which leads to emancipation you would waste the rare
opportunities offered by a human birth. To neglect the most excellent
Dharma, and instead to think demeritorious thoughts, is like neglecting
the jewels on a jewel-island and collecting lumps of earth instead. A
person who has won existence as a human being, and who would pursue
evil rather than good, is like a traveller to the Himalayas who would feed
on deadly rather than on health-giving herbs. Having understood this, try
to drive out disturbing thoughts by means of their appropriate antidotes,
just as one pushes a wedge out of a cleft in a log with the help of a
slender counter-wedge.

How to deal with thoughts concerning family and homeland

But if you start worrying about the prosperity or difficulties of your

relatives, you should investigate the true nature of the world of the living,
and these ideas will disappear again. Among beings whom their Karma
drags along in the cycle of Samsara, who is a stranger, who a relation?
Delusion alone ties one person to another. For in the past the person who
is now one of your own people happened to be a stranger to you; in the
future the stranger of to-day will be one of your own people. Over a
number of lives a person is no more firmly associated with his own people
than birds who flock together at the close of day, some here, some there.
Relatives are no more closely united than travellers who for a while meet
at an inn, and then part again, losing sight of each other. This world is by
nature split up into disjointed parts; no one really belongs to anyone else;
it is held together by cause and effect, as loose sand by a clenched fist.
And yet, a mother will cherish her son because she expects that he will
support her, and a son loves his mother because she bore him in her
womb. As long as relatives agree with each other, they display affection;
but disagreements turn them into enemies. We see relatives behave
unkindly, while non-relatives may show us kindness. Men, indeed, make
and break affections according to their interests. As an artist becomes
enamoured of a woman he has himself painted, so the affection, which a
person has for another with whom he feels at one, is entirely of his own
making. As for him who in another life was bound to you by ties of
kinship, and who was so dear to you then, what is he to you now or you
to him? Therefore it is unworthy of you to allow your mind to become
preoccupied with thoughts of your relatives. In the Samsaric world there
is no fixed division between your own people and other people.

And if you should hit on the idea that this or that country is safe,
prosperous, or fortunate, give it up, my friend, and do not entertain it in
any way; for you ought to know that the world everywhere is ablaze with
the fires of some faults or others. There is certain to be some suffering,
either from the cycle of the seasons, or from hunger, thirst, or
exhaustion, and a wholly fortunate country does not exist anywhere.
Whether it be excessive cold or heat, sickness or danger, something
always afflicts people everywhere; no safe refuge can thus be found in
the world. And in all countries of the world people are greatly afraid of old
age, disease, and death, and there is none where these fears do not
arise. Wherever this body may go, there suffering must follow; there is no
place in the world where it is not accompanied by afflictions. However
delightful, prosperous, and safe a country may appear to be, it should be
recognized as a bad country if consumed by the defilements. This world is
smitten with countless ills, which affect both body and mind, and we
cannot go to any country which is safe from them and where we can
expect to live at ease.

Suffering is the lot of everyone, everywhere and all the time;

therefore, my friend, do not hanker after the glittering objects of this
world! And, once this hankering is extinct in you, then you will dearly see
that this entire world of the living can be said to be on fire.

How to be mindful of death

But if you should make any plans that do not reckon with the
inevitability of death, you must make an effort to lay them down again,
as if they were an illness which attacks your own self. Not even for a
moment should you rely on life going on, for Time, like a hidden tiger, lies
in wait to slay the unsuspecting. There is no point in your feeling too
strong or too young to die, for death strikes down people whatever their
circumstances, and is no respecter of youthful vitality. The body we drag
along with us is a fertile soil for all sorts of mishaps, and no sensible
person would entertain any firm expectation of well-being or of life. Who
could ever be free from cares as long as he has to bear with this body
which, as a receptacle of the four great elements, resembles a pot full of
snakes at war with each other? Consider how strange and wonderful it is
that this man, on drawing in his breath, can immediately afterwards
breathe out again; so little can life be trusted 1 And this is another
strange and wonderful thing that, having slept, he wakes up again, and
that, having got up, he goes to sleep again; for many are the adversities
of those who have a body. How can we ever feel secure from death, when
from the womb onwards it follows us like a murderer with his sword
raised to kill us? No man born into this world, however pious or strong he
be, ever gets the better of the King of Death, either now, or in the past or
the future. For when Death in all its ferocity has arrived on the scene, no
bargaining can ward him off, no gifts, no attempt at sowing dissension,
no force of arms and no restraint. Our hold on life is so uncertain that it is
not worth relying on. All the time Death constantly carries people away,
and does not wait for them to reach the age of seventy! Who, unless he
be quite mad, would make plans which do not reckon with death, when
he sees the world so unsubstantial and frail, like a water bubble?

The four holy truths

Investigating the true nature of reality and directing his mind

towards the complete destruction of the Outflows, the Yogin learns to
understand correctly the four statements which express the four Truths,
i.e. suffering, and the rest, first there is the ubiquitous fact of suffering,
which can be defined as oppression; then the cause of suffering, which is
the same as its origination; the extinction of suffering, which consists
essentially in the definite escape from it; and finally the path which leads
to tranquillity, and which has the essential function of saving. And those
whose intellect has awakened to these four holy truths, and who have
correctly penetrated to their meaning, their meditations shall overcome
all the Outflows, they will gain the blessed calm, and no more will they be
reborn. It is, on the other hand, through its failure to awaken to these
four facts which summarize the essential nature of true reality, and
through its inability to penetrate to their meaning, that the Samsaric
world whirls round and round, that it goes from one becoming to another,
and that it cannot win the blessed calm.

You should therefore, to explain it briefly, know with regard to the

fact of ill, that birth is the basis of all the other misfortunes, like old age,
and so on; for as all plants grow on the earth, so all calamities grow on
the soil of birth. For the birth of a body endowed with sense-organs leads
of necessity to manifold ills, and the production of a person's physical
existence automatically implies that of death and sickness. As food,
whether good or bad, far from sustaining us becomes merely destructive
when mixed with poison, so all birth into this world, whether among
animals, or above or below them, tends to ill and not to ease. The
numerous afflictions of living beings, such as old age and so on, are
unavoidably produced wherever there is Worldly Activity; but even the
most frightful gales could not possibly shake trees that have never been
planted. Where there is a body, there must also be such sufferings as
disease, old age, and so on, and likewise hunger, thirst, wetness, heat,
cold, etc. And the mind which is dependent on the body involves us in
such ills as grief, discontent, anger, fear, etc. Wherever there is a psycho-
physical organism, suffering is bound to take place; but for him who is
liberated from it there can be no suffering, either now, or in the past, or
the future.

And that suffering which we find bound up with Worldly Activity in

this world is caused by the multitude of the defile, ments, such as
craving, and the rest; but it is not due to a Creator, or Primordial Matter,
or Time, or the Nature of things, or Fate, or Chance. And for that reason,
i.e. because all Worldly Activity is a result of the defilements, we can be
sure that the passionate and the dull will die, whereas those who are
without passion and dullness will not be born again.
 Therefore, once you have seen, my friend, that craving, etc., are
the causes of the manifold ills which follow on birth, remove those causes
if you want to be free from suffering; for an effect ceases when its cause
has been stopped, and so also suffering becomes extinct when its cause
has been quite exhausted. You must therefore come face to face with the
holy, calm, and fortunate Dharma, which through dispassion has turned
away from craving, which is the supreme place of rest, wherein all
Worldly Activity is stopped, a shelter which abides eternally and which
nothing can ever take away; that secure place which is final and
imperishable, and where there is no birth, old age, death, or disease, no
conjunction with unpleasant things, no disappointment over one's wishes,
nor separation from what is dear. When the flame of a lamp comes to an
end, it does not go anywhere down in the earth or up in the sky, nor into
any of the directions of space, but because its oil is exhausted it simply
ceases to burn. So, when an accomplished saint comes to the end, he
does not go anywhere down in the earth or up in the sky, nor into any of
the directions of space, but because his defilements have become extinct
he simply ceases to be disturbed.

The wise man who wishes to carry out the sacred precepts of
tradition should, as a means for the attainment of this Dharma, develop
the eightfold Path - three of its steps, i.e. right speech, right bodily
action, and right livelihood concern morality; three, i.e. right views, right
intentions, and right effort concern wisdom; two again, i.e. right
mindfulness and right concentration promote tranquillizing concentration.
As a result of morality the defilements no longer proliferate, as seeds no
longer germinate after the right season for them has passed; for when a
man's morality is pure, the vices attack his mind but half-heartedly, as if
they had become ashamed. Concentration, in its turn, blocks the
defilements, as a rock blocks the torrent of a mighty river; for the faults
are unable to attack a man who is absorbed in trance, as if they were
spell-bound snakes immobilized by mantras.

Wisdom, finally, completely destroys the defilements, as a river,

which in the rainy season overflows its banks, sweeps away the trees that
grow on them; consumed by wisdom, the faults cease to thrive and grow,
like a tree burnt up by the fire which flares up after it has been struck by
a thunderbolt. By entering on this eightfold path, which has morality,
concentration, and wisdom for its three divisions, and which is holy,
incorruptible, and straight, one forsakes those faults which are the causes
of suffering, and one attains the state of absolute peace. Ten qualities are
required of those who proceed along it: steadfastness, sincerity, self-
respect, vigilance, seclusion from the world, contentment with little,
simplicity of tastes, non-attachment, aversion to Worldly Activity, and
patience. For he who discovers the true nature of ill, its origin and its
cessation, can advance on the holy path, in the company of spiritual
friends, towards Peace. It is like someone who correctly diagnoses a
disease as a disease, and who correctly determines its cause and its cure;
when treated by skilful friends he will soon be healthy again. You should
therefore regard ill as a disease, the defilements as its cause, their
cessation as the state of health, and the path as the remedy.

What you must furthermore understand is that suffering is the

same as Worldly Activity, and that it is kept going by the defilements;
that their stopping is the same as inactivity, and that it is the path which
leads to that. As though your turban or your clothes were on fire, so with
a sense of urgency should you apply your intellect to the comprehension
of the truths. It is because it fails to perceive the guidance given by these
truths that the world of the living is being burnt alive. When therefore
someone sees that his psycho-physical organism is something that ought
to be extinguished, then he has the correct vision; in consequence of his
correct insight he becomes disgusted with the things of the world; and as
he is no longer drawn to them, his greed gradually exhausts itself.
Solemnly I assure you that his mind is definitely liberated when passion
and the hope of pleasure have become extinct; and that, once his mind is
well freed of those two, there is nothing further that he has to do. For I
proclaim it as a fact that the effective extinction of all the Outflows lies in
seeing and discerning the own-being of the psycho-physical personality,
its cause and its disappearance.
 4. The Six Types Of Persons

Meditations should be appropriate to the character and

temperament of those who undertake them. And six types of
characteristic behaviour are here distinguished, due to:

Greed Hate Delusion

Faith Intelligence Discursiveness

Accordingly there are six kinds of persons: some dominated by

greed, others by hate or delusion, others by faith, intelligence, or
discursiveness.

Those who act from faith are akin to those who act from greed: for
in people who are dominated by greed faith is bound to be strong at the
time when they act in a wholesome way, because its qualities are similar
to those of greed; as on the unwholesome plane greed clings, and takes
no offence, so does faith on the wholesome plane. As greed seeks out the
objects of sense-desire, so faith the virtues of morality, and so on. As
greed does not let go that which is harmful, so faith that which is
beneficial.

Those who act from intelligence are akin to those who act from
hate: for in people who are dominated by hate wisdom is bound to be
strong at the time when they act in wholesome ways, because its
qualities are similar to those of hate; as on the unwholesome plane
hatred does not cling, does not stick to its object, so wisdom on the
wholesome plane. As hate seeks for faults, even though they do not exist,
so wisdom seeks for the faults that do exist. As hate leads to the rejection
of beings, so wisdom to that of all conditioned things.

Those who act from discursiveness are akin to those who act from
delusion: for in people who are dominated by delusion, a great many
obstructive thoughts usually arise whenever they strive to produce new
wholesome states; this is because the characteristics of wholesome
states, which have not yet arisen, are akin to delusion. As delusion is
unsettled because of its complete confusion, so is reflection that is
preoccupied with manifold topics. And as delusion is vacillating because
unable to go deeply into anything, so is reflection that is due to facile
surmise.

But how can it be known whether a given person is dominated by

greed, or by hate, etc.? Here we have the rule that a person's disposition
can be determined by (1) his postures; (2) his approach to what he has
to do; (3) his attitude to food; (4) the way he looks at things; and (5) the
kind of mental dharmas which are found in him.

I. As for the (four) postures: (a) The natural gait of someone who
is dominated by greed is graceful; gently and evenly he puts down his
foot, evenly he lifts it, and his step is springy. The hate-type walks as
though digging up the ground with his toes; abruptly he puts down his
foot, abruptly he lifts it up, and his step drags along. The delusion-type
walks with a troubled gait; hesitantly he puts down his foot, hesitantly he
lifts it, and the feet are pressed down rather hastily, (b) Now as to the
way in which they stand-the greed-type looks pleasant and amiable, the
hate-type stiff, the delusion-type bewildered, (c) The same applies to
their sitting down, (d) The greed-type prepares his bed neatly and
without haste, gently he lies down on it, curls himself up into a ball, and
sleeps peacefully; when roused from his sleep he does not get up at once,
and responds slowly, as though unwilling. The hate-type prepares his bed
anyhow in great haste; he flings his body down on it to go to sleep with a
furrowed brow; when roused from sleep he jumps up at once, and
answers as though offended. The delusion-type spreads a badly shaped
bed, and sleeps most of the time face downwards with his body
sprawling; when roused he makes a grunting noise, and rises sluggishly.

2. As for their approach to what they have to do: when sweeping,

the greed-type holds the broom just right, and makes a clean and even
sweep, without hurrying or without strewing the sand all over the place;
he behaves as if he were spreading out beautiful flowers from the Indus
river. The hate-type energetically takes hold of the broom, and in great
haste sweeps uncleanly and unevenly, making a harsh noise and piling up
the sand on both sides. The delusion-type holds the broom loosely and
sweeps uncleanly and unevenly, jumbling up the sand as it is turned over.
As in sweeping, so in all his activities, such as washing and dyeing his
robe, and so on, the greed-type is an elegant, graceful, even, and careful
worker; the hate-type works roughly, stiffly, and unevenly; the delusion-
type is a clumsy, confused, uneven, and inaccurate worker. They also
differ in the manner in which they wear their robes: the greed-type wears
it neither too tight nor too loose, he looks graceful in it, and covers the
body all round; the hate-type wears it too tight, and without covering the
body all round; the delusion-type wears it loosely and untidily.

3. Now about their attitude to food: the greed-type likes food fatty
and sweet; when eating he rolls his food into lumps which are round and
not too big, he eats slowly and pays attention to the taste of the food,
and he is glad when he finds anything nice in his bowl. The hate-type
likes rough and sour food; he eats hastily, stuffing his mouth full, and
pays no attention to the taste of the food; when he finds anything
unpleasant in his bowl, he feels annoyed. The delusion-type has no clear
preference for any kind of food; when eating he rolls his food into small
lumps which are not at all round, drops bits into his dish, and smears his
mouth all over, his mind distractedly thinking of this and that.

4. Now about the way they look at things: when he sees

something even moderately attractive, the greed-type looks at it for a
long time, like one enchanted; he fastens on to its good points, however
small they may be, and does not seize upon its faults, however real they
may be; when walking on he casts one last affectionate look upon it, as
though he were loath to part from it. The hate-type, when he sees
something even moderately unattractive, does not look at it for long,
because of his general attitude of weariness; its faults, even though
slight, strike him most forcibly, and he does not seize upon its good
points, however real; when he walks on, he gives it no further
consideration, as though glad to get away from it. In whatever the
delusion-type sees, his reactions entirely depend on others: he finds fault
when he hears them finding fault, he praises when he hears them praise;
for he himself looks on with indifference, being deficient in intellectual
power.
 5. Finally, as to the kinds of mental states found in the various
types. They are as follows:

The suitability of the forty Subjects of Meditation for these six

types can be seen from the following table:
 We must bear in mind, however, that this arrangement refers only
to those exercises which directly counteract some given fault, or which
are particularly beneficial to some given type. No meditational
development of any kind can fail to impede the faults of those who are
ruled by greed, hate, or delusion, nor can it fail to promote the faith,
wisdom, or discursiveness of those who are ruled by them. And it has
been said in the Meghiyasutta: 'Four dharmas should be further
developed: the contemplation of the repulsiveness of decaying corpses so
as to forsake greed, friendliness so as to forsake ill-will; mindful
respiration so as to cut off discursive thoughts; attention to
impermanence so as to uproot the pride that says: "I am".' Furthermore,
in the Rahulasutta seven subjects of meditation are given to one single
person, i.e. friendliness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and
evenmindedness; meditation on the corrupt nature of the body and on
the fleeting nature of things; and finally, mindfulness which comes from
ordered breathing. One should therefore not rely on mere words, but
everywhere search for the intention behind them.

5. The Five Miraculous Powers

The Lord also wants to show to those sons of good family, who
have achieved concentration on the fourth stage of trance, both the
advantages and the increasingly sublime dharmas which flow from
meditational development. With this in mind he has described the five
Mundane Superknowledges, which are (i) the various magical powers; (2)
the cognition by the heavenly ear; (3) the knowledge of others' thoughts;
(4) the recollection of previous lives; and (5) the knowledge of the
decease and rebirth of other beings.

I. Various Magical Powers

'With his mind collected, perfectly pure and perfectly cleansed,

unblemished and undefiled, quite supple and workable, firm and
imperturbable, be directs and turns his thought to the various magical
powers. And he experiences the various kinds of magical power as
follows: (1) (The magical power of sustained resolution), (1a) having
been one, he becomes many; having been many, he becomes one.

As it has been said in the Patisambhida: 'One by nature, he turns

his mind towards multiplication, hundredfold, thousandfold, or hundred-
thousandfold; he then sustains this act of attention with his cognition,
and resolves to become manifold. And thereupon he becomes manifold.
Like the Venerable Panthaka, the Younger.' The last sentence refers to an
actual instance of multiplication. And this is the story: There were two
brothers, named Panthaka ('Way-man'), because they were born by the
wayside. The elder brother went out into the homeless life, and won
Arhatship together with the four kinds of Analytical Knowledge. He then
received his brother into the Order, and gave him the following verse to
learn:

Lo! like a fragrant lotus at the dawn

Of day, full blown, with virgin wealth of scent,
Behold the Buddha's glory shining forth,
As in the vaulted heaven beams the sun!

But even after four months the younger brother had not yet
succeeded in learning this verse by heart. Thereupon the Elder expelled
him from the monastery as unfit for the religious Life.

At that time Panthaka the Elder was the superintendent of meals,

and one day the layman Jivaka came to him and invited the Lord together
with 500 monks for the following day to his house. The Elder agreed, but
stipulated that his younger brother should be excluded from the
invitation. And Panthaka the Younger stood weeping at the gate. The Lord
saw him with his heavenly eye, went to him, asked him why he wept, and
listened to his story.

The Lord then said to him: 'No one is unfit for the religious life in
my Order just because he cannot learn by heart. Do not worry, my
monk!' - took him by the arm and led him into the monastery. There he
magically conjured up a piece of white cloth, and gave it to him with the
words: 'Here, monk, rub that between your hands and repeat, "Dirt be
removed! dirt be removed!" over and over again.' After Panthaka had
done this for some time, the piece of cloth looked quite dark. And he
thought to himself: 'This cloth was by itself quite clean; in it the fault
does not lie, but surely it lies in my own body!' His cognition then plunged
into the five Skandhas, and his insight grew so rapidly that he soon
became ripe for Arhatship. To enlighten him still further, the Lord spoke
to him these verses:

Greed is the real dirt, not dust;

Greed is the term for real dirt.
The wise have shaken off this dirt;
And in the dirt-free man's religion live.
 And so with 'hate' and 'delusion' in place of 'greed'. By the time
the Lord had spoken these verses, Panthaka the Younger had passed
through the eight stages of the Supra-mundane Path, and had won
Nirvana together with the four Analytical knowledges and the six
Superknowledges.

On the following day the Teacher went to Jivaka's house

accompanied by his monks. When they had washed their hands, the time
came round for dishing out the rice-gruel. But the Lord covered his bowl
with his hand. Jivaka asked why he did so. He answered: 'One monk has
been left behind at the monastery!' So Jivaka sent a man to fetch him.
But when the Lord had left the monastery,

'a thousand doubles of himself young Panthaka had conjured up,

while waiting in the pleasant Mango grove to be invited'.

So when the man came to the monastery, he found the ground

one blaze of light from all the yellow robes. He went back, and said to the
Lord: 'The monastery, O Lord, is crammed full of monks! I do not know
which one the gentleman is.' But the Lord replied: 'Just go, and the first
one you see you hold by the hem of his robe, tell him that the Teacher
calls him, and bring him here!' So he went back, and caught hold of the
hem of the Elder's robe. All these magical creations thereupon vanished
at once. The Elder sent the man off, prepared himself for a meal by
washing his mouth, and so on, arrived at Jivaka's house even before the
man had got there, and sat down on the seat prepared for him.

(1b) He becomes visible or invisible. This means that he causes

visibility or invisibility. As it has been said in the Patisambhida: ' "To be
visible" means not to be covered or hidden by anything, it means to be
open to view and manifest. "To be invisible" means to be covered up or
hidden by something, it means to be concealed and enclosed.'

Someone proficient in magical power, who wants to produce

visibility, will therefore have to light up that which is dark, to uncover that
which is covered up, to bring within the range of vision that which was
outside it. And how does he manage to do that? Suppose he wants to
make a person, either himself or someone else, visible to those who could
not normally see him, either because of their distance or because of an
obstruction in the field of vision - emerging from the basic fourth Dhyana,
he should prepare the miracle by intently thinking: 'May this dark place
be lit up!' or 'May this object, now covered up, be uncovered!' or 'May this
object, now outside the field of vision, get inside it!' And he should
sustain this thought with a firm resolution. As soon as he has formed his
resolution, it is realized: others can see the object even from a remote
distance, and he himself also can see it if he wants to. There are many
instances of this. For example, in Ceylon, in Talangara, the Elder
Dhammadinna used this power when he recited a Sutra from the
Anguttara Nikaya in the open space round the shrine of the Great Tissa
Monastery. He pointed his fan downwards, and all the way down to the
Avici Hell there was nothing but open space; he pointed it upwards, and
all the way to the Brahma-world there was nothing but open space. So
the Elder backed up his explanation of the Dharma, for he could
convincingly threaten his audience with the terrors of hell and entice
them with the bliss of heaven. Some in consequence became
Streamwinners, others Once-returners, others Never-returners, others
Arhats.

When he wants to produce invisibility, he must use the reverse

procedure to that employed for producing visibility. And who then has
ever accomplished this miracle? The Lord. For the Lord brought it about
that Yasa's father could not see his son, although he sat beside him.
Likewise, the Lord once went for 120 miles to meet king Maha-Kappina.
He established him in the fruit of a Never-returner, and his thousand
ministers in the fruit of a Streamwinner. When queen Anoja, with her
retinue of a thousand women, arrived on the scene and sat down quite
close to the king, the Lord brought it about that she could see neither the
king nor his retinue. When she asked the Lord whether he had seen the
king, he replied: 'What then is better, to seek your king or to seek your
own self?" 'To seek one's self' was her answer. And as she sat there he
explained to her the Dharma in such a manner that she, with her
thousand women, was established in the fruit of a Streamwinner, whereas
the ministers advanced to that of a Never-returner, and the king himself
to Arhatship.

(1c) Right through a wall, a rampart, or a bill be glides

unimpeded, as though through empty space. If he wants to move along
in this manner, he should enter into the concentration on the space-
device, which begins with a contemplation of a hole in a wall, or a key-
hole, or an open window. On emerging from this, he should turn his mind
on any wall, rampart or mountain, and then prepare the miracle by the
sustained resolve, 'may there be empty space!'; and there is only empty
space! Whether he wants to go down or up, there are everywhere holes
for him to go through. And if he wants to penetrate through a solid body,
he will find an aperture through which to move. It is in this way that he
glides unimpeded.

(1d) He dives into the earth and out of it. In order to achieve this,
he should enter into concentration on the water-device, which begins with
a contemplation of water in a bowl. On emerging from this he should
mark off as much of the ground as he wishes to turn into water, and then
prepare the miracle by the sustained resolve that this transformation
should take place. Immediately the ground which he has marked off
becomes water. And he can dive into it and out of it.

(1e) He walks on water without sinking into it. This is done with
the help of the earth-device, which begins with a contemplation of a disk
of clay, and which allows him to transform into hard earth as much of the
water as he has marked off.

(1f) Cross-legged he floats along like a bird on the wing. In order

to do that, he must first concentrate on the earth-device, and then
emerge from his concentration. If he wishes to travel seated, he should
mark off a place in the air which is big enough for him to sit on; if he
wishes to travel lying down, he should mark off a place the size of a bed,
and if he wants to walk, he should mark off as much space as is
necessary for a path. In each case he should make the sustained resolve
that so and so much of the air should change into earth; and immediately
the air turns into earth. But the monk who wishes to float through the air
should possess the heavenly eye. What for? So as to enable him to see
the mountains, trees, and so on, which he meets on his way, and which
are due either to physical causes, or to the magic of dragons, fairy-birds
and other creatures who are envious of him. And what should he do when
he sees them? He should enter into the basic fourth Jhana, emerge from
it, and by his sustained resolve he can then change those mountains,
etc., into empty space.

(1g) 'Even the sun and the moon, powerful and mighty though
they be, he touches and strokes with his hands. If he wants to go to them
and touch them, he can do so. But if he wants to touch them while sitting
or lying down here on earth, he resolves that they should come to the
palms of his hands. And in virtue of his sustained resolve they come
along, like palm-fruits severed from their stalks, and when they have got
to the palms of his hands he can touch them. Alternatively he can also
make his hand grow, until it reaches up to the sun and the moon.

(1h) Even as far as the world of Brahma he has power over his
body. The explanation of this can be found in the Patisambhida: 'If
someone, mighty in his psychic power and in full control over his will,
wishes to go to the Brahma-world, he resolves that the distant may
become near, and it becomes near; he resolves that what is near should
become distant, and it becomes distant; he resolves that what is much
should become little, and it becomes little; he resolves that what is little
should become much, and it becomes much. With his heavenly eye he
sees the shape of Brahma, with his heavenly ear he hears his voice, with
his cognition of the thoughts of others he reads that Brahma's mind. If
that man, mighty in his psychic power and in full control over his will,
wishes to go to Brahma's world with a visible body, then he alters his
mind to accord with his body, determines his mind to accord with his
body. A sensation of ease and lightness then comes over him, and he can
travel with his visible body to Brahma's world. But if he wants to go there
with an invisible body, he alters his body to accord with his mind,
resolves his body to accord with his mind, with the result that a sensation
of ease and lightness comes over him, and he can travel with an invisible
body to Brahma's world.

In front of that Brahma he conjures up a mind-made body,

complete with all its limbs, in full possession of all its organs. If the
magician walks up and down, his magical creation likewise walks up and
down. If the magician stands, or sits down, or lies down, his magical
creation always does likewise. If the magician emits smoke or fire; or if
he demonstrates the Dharma, asks questions or answers them, his
magical creation always does likewise. And if the magician stays for a
while with that Brahma, talks and converses with him, then his magical
creation will do likewise. For whatever that magician may do, that his
magical creation will also do.'

The Lord once made 'what is little into much', as we know from
the story of Kakavaliya. We are told there that Mahakassapa, the Elder,
after spending seven days absorbed in trance, decided to do a favour to
Kakavaliya, a poor man, by waiting for alms at the door of his house.
When Kakavaliya's wife saw the Elder, she poured into his bowl the
saltless, sour gruel she had cooked for her husband. The Elder took it and
handed it to the Lord, who resolved that it should suffice for the large
assembly of monks. And that which had been brought in one single bowl
proved sufficientforall. Kakavaliya, however, seven days later became a
rich merchant.

And psychic power enables people not only to change what is little
into what is much, but also to make sweet things not sweet, or unsweet
things sweet, and whatever else they may wish to accomplish. One day
Maha-Anula, the Elder, saw numerous monks sitting down on the banks
of the Ganges, and eating their meal, just dry rice, which was all they had
received on their alms-rounds. He thereupon resolved that the water of
the Ganges should be turned into butter-cream. He gave a sign to the
novices, and they fetched the butter-cream in small cups and brought it
to the monks. And they all ate of the sweet butter-cream.
 'A sensation of ease and lightness comes over him': the 'sensation
of ease' is the sensation connected with evenmindedness; for
evenmindedness has been called the 'calm ease'. And the sensation
should be regarded as one of 'lightness', because it is free from the (five)
Hindrances, and from other states hostile to trance, such as discursive
thinking, and so on. As soon as this sensation has come over the monk,
his physical body becomes as light as a tuft of cotton wool. And so he
goes to the Brahma-world with his visible body as light as a tuft of
cotton-down blown along by the wind. If he wishes to, he can conjure up
in space with the help of the earth-device a firm road, and along it he can
walk on foot. Or, if he prefers, he can by his magical resolution raise a
wind, and like cotton-down he then drifts along with it. But the desire to
move along is the decisive factor. For where that exists, as soon as he
has made a sustained resolve in his mind, he visibly hurries along, driven
by the impact of his resolve, like an arrow shot by an archer.

'A mind-made body' - because it has been conjured up by a mind

filled with sustained resolve. 'In full possession of all its organs' — this
refers to the presence of organs in the shape of eyes, ears, and so on;
but in magically created bodies these have no sensitivity. 'If the magician
walks up and down, his magical creation likewise walks up and down',
etc.: all this only refers to the magical creations conjured up by Disciples.
The Buddha's magical creations also do whatever the Lord does, but they
can also do something else, if the Lord so desires.

(2) The power of miraculous transformation. Here 'he first gives

up his normal appearance, and then shows himself in the guise of a boy,
or a dragon, a fairy-bird, or Asura, of Indra, a god, or Brahma; or in the
form of the sea or a rock, of a lion, tiger, or leopard, of an elephant,
horse, chariot, or foot-soldier; or of various army-formations'. He should,
however, never resolve, 'May I become an elephant!', etc., but always,
'Let there be an elephant!', etc.

(3) The power of producing mind-made bodies. In order to achieve

this, one must emerge from the basic fourth Jhana, turn one's attention
to one's body, and resolve that there should be a hollow space there. In
consequence there is a hollow space there. He then thinks attentively of a
second body in the hollow space within his own body, makes the
necessary preparations, produces a sustained resolve, and in
consequence there is now within his own body still another body. That
second he then pulls out, as one pulls a reed from its sheath, a sword
from its scabbard, a snake from its slough. Hence it was said: 'Here the
monk conjures up from his body another body, which has form, is mind-
made, complete with all its limbs, in full possession of its organs. Just as
if a man were to pull out a reed from its sheath, and say to himself: "This
is the sheath, this the reed; the sheath is one thing, the reed another.
But it is from the sheath that the reed has been pulled out."' And just as
the reed is similar in shape to the sheath, and the sword to the scabbard,
so also is the mind-made body similar to that of the body of the magician.

II. The Heavenly Ear

He further directs his mind to the heavenly ear. With the heavenly
ear, perfectly pure and surpassing that of men, he hears sounds, celestial
as well as human, far as well as near.

The capacity for hearing in this way is called 'heavenly' because it

resembles that of the gods. For the gods have a heavenly organ of
hearing, which can perceive objects even from a long distance, because it
results from the good deeds they have done, suffers no obstruction from
bile, phlegm, blood, etc., and is free from all imperfections. Similar to
that is the hearing capacity which this cognition confers on a monk, and
which results from the might which he has gained by the prolonged
development of his vigour.

III. The Knowledge of Others' Thoughts

With his own mind he encompasses the minds of other beings,

other persons, and he wisely knows the greedy mind as greedy, the
greedless as greedless; he knows the hating mind as with hate, the
hateness mind as without hate; he knows the deluded mind as deluded,
the undeluded as undeluded. He knows the mind which is contracted (by
sloth and torpor) as contracted, and the mind which is distracted (by
excitedness) as distracted. The lofty mind (which reaches up to the
worlds revealed by the trances) he knows as lofty, the unlofty as unlofty.
He knows the surpassable mind as surpassable, the unsurpassable (or
supramundane) as unsurpassable. The collected mind he knows as
collected, the uncollected as uncollected. He finally knows the
emancipated mind as emancipated, the unemancipated as
unemancipated.

And how should this cognition be produced? Success here depends

on the preliminary development of the heavenly eye. A monk should
therefore spread the supernatural light which enables the heavenly eye to
function (see page 133), look with his heavenly eyesight at the colour of
another person's blood, which is conditioned by the state of his heart, and
infer his thoughts from that. For when a person has glad thoughts, his
heart-blood is red like a ripe banyan fruit, when sad thoughts, it is black
like a ripe rose-apple, when neutral thoughts, it is like clear sesamum oil.
A monk should therefore build up his capacity for encompassing the
thoughts of others by repeatedly looking at the colour of their heart-
blood, and inferring their thoughts from it. First of all the feeling tone of
their thoughts should be inferred, i.e. whether they are glad, sad, or
neutral, and beginning with that he will gradually come to know all their
thoughts, whichever realm they may belong to. After a time he will no
longer have to begin with a survey of the heart-blood, but will be able
directly to pass over from his own thoughts to those of others.

IV. The Recollection of former Lives

He recalls his manifold former lives - one birth, or two births, or

up to 100,000 births or more, and many world cycles and aeons: 'There I
was, that was my name, that was my family, that was my caste, such
was my food, this was the happiness, this the suffering which I
experienced, this was the duration of my life-span. Deceased there I was
reborn elsewhere, and there had this name, etc. It is thus that he recalls
his manifold previous lives, with all their modes, in all their details.

Six kinds of people can remember their former lives: Non-

Buddhists, ordinary disciples, great disciples, chief disciples,
Pratyekabuddhas, and Buddhas. The non-Buddhists can remember up to
forty aeons, but no more, because they are weak in wisdom, being
unacquainted with the correct classification of mental and physical
phenomena. The ordinary disciples can recall up to a hundred or a
thousand aeons, because their wisdom is strong. The eighty great
disciples can remember 100,000 aeons, the two chief disciples one
incalculable aeon plus 100,000 aeons, and the Pratyekabuddhas two
incalculable aeons plus 100,000 aeons. For they aspire no further than
that. As for the Buddhas, there is no limit to their memory.

A monk who is still a beginner, and who wants to learn how to

remember his previous lives, should in the afternoon, after he has
finished his meal, go to a solitary and secluded spot, and enter
successively into the four trances. He should then emerge from the fourth
trance, which is the basis of the Superknowledges, and think of the last
thing he did before his meditation, which was the act of sitting down.
After that he should, in reverse order, think of everything he did during
the day and night, i.e. how he spread the seat on which he sat down, how
he entered his lodging, got ready his robe and alms bowl, the time when
he ate, when he came back from the village, when he went to the village
for his alms, when he entered the village for his alms round, when he
departed from the monastery, when he saluted the shrine, the time when
he washed his alms bowl, when he took hold of his alms bowl, and from
there whatever he did after the washing of the mouth, everything he did
early in the day, everything he did in the last and everything he did in the
first watch of the night.

All this becomes manifest to the ordinary mind already, but to the
mind which is prepared by trance it stands out most distinctly. But if
anything should not be obvious to him, he should once more enter into
the basic fourth trance, and, on emerging from it, should direct his mind
unto it. In that way these things become as clear to him as if lit up by a
lamp. He should furthermore think back in reverse order on what he did
two days ago, three, four, and five days ago, ten days ago, half a month
ago, one month ago, up to one year ago. In this manner he goes on for
ten years, twenty years, and so on, until he comes to the time of his birth
in this becoming, and then he should also direct his mind on the mental
and physical processes which took place at the moment of his decease in
his immediately preceding existence.

A clever monk can manage already on his first attempt to

penetrate beyond the moment of rebirth to a perception of the mental
and physical processes at the time of his decease. But for those who are
not very wise the passage from one existence to another is hard to see,
and must seem impassable and very obscure, for the reason that the
psycho-physical organism of the previous existence has wholly ceased
and another one has arisen in its stead.

V. The Knowledge of the Decease and Rebirth of Beings

He directs his mind to the knowledge of the decease and rebirth of

beings. With the heavenly eye, perfectly pure and surpassing that of men,
he sees beings, as they are about to die or find a new rebirth - the low
and the high, the beautiful and the ugly, the privileged and the
unprivileged - and he sees that whatever happens to them happens in
accordance with their deeds.

The 'heavenly eye' is called 'heavenly' for the same reason as the
'heavenly ear'. In addition it is considered as 'heavenly' because it
spreads a brilliant supernatural light, and also because it has a great
power of penetration and can discern objects which are hidden behind
walls or other obstructions.
 The monk who spreads this light downwards, in the direction of
the hells, sees with the heavenly eye the beings in the hells suffering
much pain. He then asks himself what deeds these beings must have
done to suffer so much. And when he understands that it is because they
have done this or that, then there arises in him the cognition which has
their deeds for its object. Moreover, when he spreads the light upwards,
to the world of the gods, he sees with the heavenly eye the beings in the
celestial regions enjoying great bliss. He then asks himself what deeds
these beings must have done to have so much bliss. And when he
understands that it is because they have done this or that, then there
arises in him the cognition which has their deeds for its object.

But the practice of the heavenly eye is not without its dangers for
the ordinary person who has not yet won the Path. Light appears
wherever he resolves it to appear, and so he may find himself surrounded
by one huge blaze of light which pervades earth, sea, and mountains. And
he will then see the terrifying shapes of ogres and demons, and fear will
rise up in him, so that he will fall into mental confusion, and stray away
from his trance. It is therefore better not to be over-ambitious in this
matter of seeing shapes.

6. Zen

6a. Sessan Amakuki. Zen Meditation

Those who perform meditation for even one session

Destroy innumerable accumulated sins;
How should there be wrong paths for them?
The Paradise of Amida Buddha is not far.

A verse from Hakuni's The Song of Meditation

These four lines speak of the effects of sitting in meditation (Za-

zen) especially in regard to repentance and destruction of sins. The Sixth
Patriarch, defining the word Zazen, says: 'Outwardly to be in the world of
good and evil yet with no thought arising in the heart, this is Sitting (Za):
inwardly to see one's own nature and not move from it, this is Meditation
(Zen).' The 'wrong paths' of the verse are those which lead ultimately to
reincarnation as a dweller in hell, as a ghost, or as an animal. If the
meditation practice is really done, then the merits are as great as
declared in the song. The important thing in practising Zen, rather than
the question of the length or shortness of the time, is that the mind
should be in a state where the meditation is steady and continuous. When
the song teaches us that those who perform meditation for even one
session destroy innumerable accumulated sins, it means that if this
meditation goes into the real Samadhi, then even the one session has this
great power. One session means a single sitting, as when we set up a
stick of incense and do not leave our meditation till after it has burnt
down.

Directions are given for our practice. In a place, which must be

quiet, spread a thick cushion and sit yourself on it in an upright posture.
Now first swell out the abdomen and put your strength there. Let the
shoulders be in a straight line below the ears, and navel below the nose.
Make the spine straight. The mouth should be shut, but you may have the
eyes slightly opened. Making the breath flow gently will help to secure a
correct posture. Then meditate on the text you have been given, or in the
case of beginners there is a method in which they count their breaths and
so remove dull and distracted thoughts. So entering the Samadhi of
undisturbed purity, remain in the meditation. Those who are really
determined to enter upon meditation should read some small classic on
the subject.

Of course it may be that there are those whose insight and whose
inner nature are so advanced that they would not necessarily require to
practise in the way given. But I believe there are many advantages in
beginning in the prescribed manner. If the practice is truly carried out,
then one session of meditation is one session of being Buddha, a day of
meditation is a day of being Buddha. Or as an Ancient has said: 'One inch
of meditation, one inch of Buddha; so inch by inch, make the six-foot
form of Buddha.'
 If we do our meditation practice properly, then the thoughts which
arise, though they be due to the sins and impediments accumulated for
aeons past, will be extinguished of themselves, and then where should
the wrong paths be? 'The Paradise of Amida is not far.' We shall enter the
state where this very body is the Buddha. The thing to be kept in mind in
meditation is to have the great conviction that this is the path that can
save me, and it is only this path that can save me. The attitude of trying
just to see what it is like, or as an experiment, is not appropriate in such
a serious business. Underneath the great Faith you will come upon the
great Inquiry, and then if you whip up your efforts with great
determination and rush on ahead, below the great Inquiry there is the
great Enlightenment, and without any doubt know that you will have it.

Without claiming that the practice of meditation will always lead at

once to the removal of ignorance and the opening of enlightenment, yet
to be able to sit quiet for a time and turn one's attention within oneself is
a great advantage in ordinary life, and this is the beginning of meditation.
People these days have their heads boiling with thought and are ever
turned outwards as if searching for something. They have forgotten how
to still the heart and turn within for the inward vision. In fact they know
the way of going forward, but not how to withdraw. In controlling the
traffic at cross-roads, we have the traffic lights, Go! and Stop 1 If there
were only the Go I and not the Stop! accidents would be inevitable. The
Stop I is essential. Modern people only strive to rush on, as if they were
all in a horse-race, and they have lost the power of withdrawing and
reflecting. They go ahead and go ahead, but in the end there is a
deadlock, a jam, and they finish up pathetic victims of a spiritual disaster.
By paying attention to how to withdraw, by turning within and reflecting,
one can reach the in- ' exhaustible treasure there, can experience directly
the spiritual Paradise of Amida.

One has sometimes heard that to practise meditation it is

necessary to retire to a mountain away from society, or perhaps to bury
oneself in some old temple, to discard humanity and become a so-called
hermit. Of course, it may be that for the final training in seeing one's own
nature and attaining enlightenment it would in some cases be necessary
for a time, but this is not one's objective. Zen must be to use that power
which grips the Zen meditation and to bring it directly to bear upon and
vivify our present daily life. Withdrawing into meditation, and then
advancing and handling affairs — this advancing and withdrawing,
movement and rest, together, must be Zen.

The Taoist book Saikondan says: 'The rest in rest is not the real
rest; there can be rest even in movement.' An ancient worthy says:
'Meditation in movement is a hundred, a thousand, a million times
superior to meditation at rest.' In this way he teaches the importance of
meditation in activity.

The Sutra teaches that by the practice of meditation the lake of

the heart becomes pure and calm, and when the lake of the ordinary
man's heart becomes pure, it is the reflection of a Bodhisattva which
appears within it. When the wellspring of the heart is purified, the wrong
paths which otherwise appear as a result of his wrong actions, to that
man become as if nonexistent. How should there be wrong paths for him?
'The Paradise of Amida Buddha is not far.' As the phrase goes: 'This heart
becomes one's meditation room.' The world of light, of virtue, appears,
and now our daily life has a changed meaning. In fact, for the first time
our ordinary life becomes radiant with real meaning.

Many people have heard of the great painter Tanyu, whose work
exists even to-day at the Myoshin Temple. This is the story of the time
when he painted the great dragon on the ceiling of the main hall of the
Temple, the dragon which was his masterpiece and to-day is one of the
art treasures of the world. At that time the Master at the Myoshin Temple
was the celebrated Zen Master Gudo, famous as the teacher of the
Emperor. He had heard that the dragons painted by Tanyo were so
realistic that when a ceiling on which one had been painted fell down by
chance, some said it had been caused by the movement of the dragon's
tail. When the painting of the dragon at Myoshin was mooted, Gudo went
to the painter's house and told him: 'For this special occasion I particukrly
want to have the painting of a living dragon.' Naturally the painter was
taken aback, and saying: 'This is most unexpected. As a matter of fact, I
am ashamed to say that I have never seen a living dragon' - would have
refused the commission. The Zen teacher, however, agreed that it would
be unreasonable to expect a painting of a living dragon from one who had
never seen one, but told him to try to have a look at one as soon as he
could. The painter asked wonderingly: 'Where can one see a living
dragon? Where do they dwell?' 'Oh, that's nothing. At my place there are
any number - come and see them and paint one.' Tanyu joyfully went
with the teacher, and when they arrived at once asked: 'Well, here I am
to see the dragons. Where are they?' The Teacher, letting his gaze go
round the room, replied: 'Plenty of them here; can't you see them? What
a pity P The painter, too, felt overcome with a feeling of regret, and in the
event spent the next two years with Gudo, practising Zen assiduously.

One day something happened, and he rushed excitedly to the

Teacher saying: 'Thanks to you I have to-day seen the form of a live
dragon!' 'Oh, have you? Good. But tell me, what did his roar sound like?'
At this query again the painter was at a loss, and for one further year
laboured on at his spiritual practices. What he painted at the end of that
year was the dragon of the Myoshin Temple, a supreme masterpiece in
the history of art, remarkable for its technique but far more for the life
which the artist has infused into it. It seems as if it contains the great Life
which embraces heaven and earth, the universe and man also. It was to
pierce through to this reality that the master-painter Tanyo poured out
his heart's blood for three years. But when he had one experience of
reality, he had no need to seek any farther.

When one hears a story like this it is indeed wonderful. But it is no

easy thing, and we must not allow ourselves to be discouraged. It takes
time before we can have a taste of the experience of Reality. The Sutra
says: 'Heroes become Buddhas with one thought, but the lazy people are
given the three collections of scriptures to traverse.'

6b. Rosen Takasbina. Controlling the Mind

 What was it that Buddha wished to teach? Was it sagacity, was it
brilliant academic understanding? Was his aim to encourage the reading
of the scriptures, or asceticism, or austerities? In reality it was none of
these. He simply wished to show all living beings how to set in order body
and mind. The method of doing this is given in the classic on meditation
called Zazengi: 'Think of not thinking of anything at all. How is one to
think of not thinking of anything at all? Be without thoughts - this is the
secret of meditation.' Being without thoughts is the object of Zen
meditation; the control of body and mind is only a method of reaching it.
When body and mind have been controlled, then from the ensuing
absence of thoughts are born naturally and rightly brilliant understanding,
perfect Buddha-wisdom, reading of the scriptures and devotion,
asceticism, and austerities. There are some who have too hastily
assumed that holy reading, devotion, or austerities have a value in
themselves, but this is not the traditional Zen, as handed down through
the great master Do-gen.

What is meant by absence of thoughts?

The living Samadhi of all the Buddhas is no other than that state
of absolute absence of thoughts. Taking the words literally, one might
think it meant to be like a tree or a stone, but it is not that at all. It
cannot be understood by our ordinary consciousness, but neither shall we
get it by unconsciousness, we can only grasp it by experiencing it in
ourselves.

Beginners, when they first hear that the secret of Zen is to be

without thoughts but that it cannot be got by consciousness or by
unconsciousness, cannot understand at all what it can be and are
bewildered. Now instead of wondering how to get it, or trying to
understand it or to analyse it, the essential thing is resolutely to take a
leap into death, to give up one's body and life itself. It means to cut off at
the root and source, all our discriminating fancies. If we really cut them
off at the root, then of itself the freedom from thought will come, which
means that our own true nature appears, and this is called
enlightenment. An ancient says: 'In Zen the important thing is to stop the
course of the heart.' It means to stop the workings of our empirical
consciousness, the mass of thoughts, ideas, and perceptions. A great
master said: 'Try to cut off thought. By this alone eight or nine out of ten
people will attain the Way.' Attaining the Way is realizing the Buddha
heart which is our own true nature. The radiance of the Buddha heart
breaks forth from ourselves, the compassion of the Buddha flows out of
the Buddha heart within us. We come to know that the majesty of
Buddha is our own majesty also.

The doctrine of Karma is one aspect of Buddhism. In this doctrine,

the whole phenomenal universe as perceived by us is understood to be an
effect, corresponding to previous thoughts, speech, and physical actions
of the individual and of all living beings, which are the cause. In fact the
whole phenomenal universe is experienced according to our Karma. The
three forms of Karma, namely action of body, speech, and thought, can
all be embraced under the heading of actions of the mind or heart.
Whether this heart is the Buddha heart or not is the cause which
determines good or evil for us. And if we only stress our ego and do not
cut off the thoughts, the Buddha heart does not appear.

The real difficulty of Zen meditation is how to stop the course of

the mind, how to cut off thought. Some two and a half thousand years
ago at Kusinara in India, the World-honoured One, Shakyamuni Buddha,
was about to die. In the final teachings to his disciples, the last phrase of
the warnings about mind and senses is: 'You must subjugate the mind.'
This does not mean the Buddha mind or Buddha heart, but it means the
egoistic heart of the ordinary man who employs his mind actively all the
time. Was there ever any chameleon comparable to the human heart?
Just now it was happy and laughing, but all at once it is sad, then in a
rage about something or other; or it wants to eat, or to sleep, to praise or
to slander. In so-called women's gossip the confusions of the mind
become noisily apparent as speech. And so far it may be all right, but
then there also spring up terrible things, robbery and murder - all
transformations of the egoistic heart. This is why in the Consciousness
Only school of Buddhism, all changes are called transformations of
consciousness.

As to whether the heart in itself is good or bad, some say good

and some say bad, and there was also a view among the ancients that it
is neither. However that may be, what is clear is that our hearts from
morning to evening in their ceaseless activity undergo thousands and
millions of changes and transformations, good or bad. Reason and
morality tell us to take every possible care that we do not slip into a
wrong path, but instead strive to pull the carriage of our life on the right
road. An old poet sings: 'When you feel it pulling, do not loose the reins
of the colt of the heart, which would enter the evil paths' — and again -
'In the cooking-pot of the world, cook well and not badly; the human
heart is the free-moving ladle'. According to how much the free ladle is
lifted and lowered, the things are cooked well or badly. The human heart
is likewise fundamentally free. Some say that it is important all the time
to give attention to doing the right thing. But Zen does not speak in this
way. It is just a question of the Buddha heart which tells us to take a step
beyond, to end the coursing of the heart, to cut off the thought. Once and
for all we have to cut off the working of the mind, which is the inner ego
from which evil emerges. Buddhism teaches that the human heart has
two aspects. They are, the pure heart and the impure heart. But. the
heart in itself is not two; it is only classified in these two ways according
to its workings. The pure heart is the pure heart of our own nature, our
natural heart which is not a whit different from the Buddha heart.

Opposed to this is the impure heart which gives us no peace from

morning till night, the egoistic heart of illusions, the passion-ridden heart.
Because the selfish passionate heart is not natural, we are always
afflicted with sufferings; endlessly this heart, absolutely careless, leads
men astray.

Fundamentally our true heart, our true nature, is pure and infinite,
like the moon clear in the blue sky. At some distant time past our
knowing, it was tainted by passion and became the impure heart,
something not our real selves but which came afterwards. But this which
came afterwards becomes predominant and sets at naught the true heart,
just as the concubine sets at naught the real wife. How often one has
read in the papers that the steward of some large estate, or the manager
of a great firm perhaps, has set at naught his masters and using the
money for himself has brought ruin all round. Just in this way we entrust
ourselves to the operations of the deluded and passion-ridden heart, so
that the real master, the Buddha heart, cannot even show its face.

The thoughts of the impure heart are topsy-turvy, for it sees

reality as upside-down. The villains who act as chief contributors to the
delusion are what the World-honoured One called 'the brigands of the five
senses'. These five-eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body - receive all the
tempting objects and convey them to the impure heart in order to satisfy
it. For this reason they are technically called 'roots', because just so the
roots of a tree convey the sap to the branches and leaves to satisfy them.
Of course the mischievous operation of the senses is not natural; their
true working is not wrong. But the impure heart misuses them, and only
lets them work in wrong directions. As it is said in the Buddha's last
teachings: 'These five take the heart as their master.' So the wicked
nature of the impure heart is compared to a venomous serpent or a wild
beast. It bears off the life which should develop into the Buddha who is
our true nature. In our breast is coiled the poisonous serpent which is
always breathing out the fire of the three poisons, bringing on us agonies
and sufferings.

To drive out the devilish impure heart and to enable the pure
radiance to shine from the pure heart within us, the five senses have to
be cut off. And hence it is said that we should cut off thought. How are
we to do it? There are several methods, but the Zen method is to sit in
the meditation posture and swell with our breath and vitality the
abdomen below the navel. In this way the whole frame is invigorated.
Then we meditate, discarding body and mind. Now the delusions which
are the impure heart come up without ceasing. We should make these
fancies, coming one after another, the Koan (theme) of our meditation.
What, after all, is this thought? Where did it come from? We penetrate
with the spear-point of our meditation to the source of the successive
fancies.

When we practise sitting in this way repeatedly and make

progress in meditation, then of itself the meditation becomes deeper and
fuller until there is no room for the fancies to show their heads. The
practice is quite unrestricted, and the entry into the experience of truth is
also unrestricted; in the end the wonderful vision appears of one's true
nature, the experience of the absolute. This is called seeing one's real
face, and it is said that eight or nine out of ten people can achieve it (in
this very life). The practice as described has nothing artificial about it, but
though it seems easy it is not easy, and the old masters all had a hard
time with it. There are many famous sayings about this, such as: 'After
winning a hundred battles, now I grow old in great peace', or 'How many
times for your sake do I enter the green dragon's cave where the jewel is
hidden!'

There is another method. First in the same way filling the whole
body with vigour, we wrestle with a Koan which the teacher gives us. The
'not' of Master Jo-Shu, the 'tree in the fore-court', the 'true face', the
'sound of one hand' - any of them will do. It is a question of using the
Koan to practise our meditation with all the force of our will, one-
pointedly and without distraction. If there is the least little bit of
discriminating in this meditation, it will fail completely. Suppose for
instance we are meditating on the 'Sound of One Hand', though we try to
understand this with the discriminating intellect, it will never be
understood. We may think that we have understood it, but this is no
more than the understanding of the discriminating impure heart, which
thinks 'I' and 'my' and 'I do it'. Zen meditation means to cut off at the
root the mind which thinks 'I understand it', and to enter the state where
there is no impure discrimination, and that one who tests satisfied at the
stage of intellectual understanding is far from the goal of Zen. We are
told to hear the sound of one hand, which alone cannot make a sound,
and discrimination or analysis obviously cannot understand it. The
essential thing is that the whole body and mind should be taken up with
the Koan and no other thought should be able to arise, so that not only at
the time of meditation but standing and walking and sitting and lying the
meditation must continue without a break. Then all unknown the power of
the meditation becomes ripe. Abbot Rei-Un, seeing the peach flowers,
became enlightened, and Zen Master Kyo-Gen at hearing the crack of a
bamboo. It happens at the moment our Karma may direct. Heaven and
earth are split apart in an instant; as if a sluice had been opened,
suddenly we attain bliss and life infinite.

Such was the enlightenment of the old masters, and of this the
Zazengi classic says: 'Loosing and dropping off body and mind, see before
you your true nature.' But there must not be any relaxation of attention;
if there is even a slight wavering, then the karma does not ripen into the
psychological moment, any more than in the case of a dead man.

Once one has penetrated completely into one of the Koans, it is

sufficient. The great Enlightenment is once for all; if there had to be a
repetition, it would not have been complete Enlightenment. Of course
there is nothing against a man examining all the seventeen hundred
Koans which exist in order to try the power of his vision of the true self,
but it does not mean that one has to solve several of them in order to be
enlightened. If in the way described one presses on with burning faith,
throwing one's whole power into the meditation, then it is absolutely
certain that the time will come when he enters the living Samadhi of all
the Buddhas. To adopt the method of Koan is called the Zen of 'Awaiting
Enlightenment*. But in Soto Zen the practice if enlightenment. It is just
meditating earnestly in the realization of the Absolute, as the Buddha
himself did, and it is not a question of wrestling with the Koan and
waiting for Enlightenment. We should be grateful for this practice of
earnest sitting in meditation which is the most important thing in the
mental training leading to our real good, the bringing out of the Buddha
light from our humanity. If it is done, then naturally through the Buddha
heart our human nature is elevated. There is no distinction here of sharp
or dull or clever or stupid. It is a fact that any one, if he devotes himself
wholeheartedly to spiritual meditation without wavering, reaches the
supreme state.
 3 - Wisdom

Now to wisdom (prajna), the crown of all Buddhist endeavour. It is

an attempt to penetrate to the actual reality of things as they are in
themselves. (l) For a non-technical introduction to this vast subject I have
once more relied on the Questions of King Milinda. In the course of his
discussions with the monk Nagasena all the basic problems of Buddhist
wisdom are touched upon, as the reader can see for himself.

In the Mahayana, wisdom then developed into 'Perfect Wisdom'

(Prajna-paramita), the 'wisdom which has gone beyond', or
'transcendental wisdom'. From the enormous literature devoted to this
topic I have chosen three fairly short texts. (2) The Heart Sutra (c. 550)
is an epitome of the whole doctrine, which is so condensed that I have
added seven headings in order at least slightly to clarify the progress of
the argument. (3) Equally famous is the Diamond Sutra (c. 350), from
which I have selected some of the more intelligible passages. They have
here been arranged first in the order of the stages which a Bodhisattva
has to go through, and then of the attributes of a Buddha which are
considered in the Sutra. Again the headings are my own. (4) Finally there
is Rahulabhadra's (c. 750) Hymn to Perfect Wisdom, a veil-known poem
often copied out at the beginning of manuscripts containing texts on the
Perfection of Wisdom.

(5) The teaching on Perfect Wisdom determined the further course

of Mahayana thought. In China, in the so-called Ch'an school, it
underwent a fusion with Taoist ideas. In Chapter 2 we illustrated the
meditation-aspect of Zen. Now we show its wisdom-aspect by D. T.
Suzuki's translation of Seng-ts'an's (c. 600) poem on 'Believing in Mind'.
Arthur Waley, who has translated it under the title 'On Trusting in the
Heart' in my 'Buddhist Texts' (No. 211) testifies to 'its extreme celebrity
in China and Japan'. He adds that 'it would be possible, of course, to
furnish it with an enormous commentary', but that he feels 'that it gains,
for the ordinary reader, by remaining slightly mysterious'. This is indeed
the long and the short of it.

(6) Finally, from the fifth century onwards, the thinking on 'Perfect
Wisdom' combined in Northern India with age-old magical practices to
form the Tantra. As just one document from the vast literature of the
Buddhist Tantra I give an extract from the full translation of Saraha's (c.
850) Poems, which Dr Snellgrove has contributed to my 'Buddhist Texts'
(No. 188). This must suffice here, because the bulk of this literature is
couched in a deliberately mysterious language which would convey
nothing to the average reader.

1. The Questions Of King Milinda

1. Introduction

In the land of the Bactrian Greeks there was a city called Sagala, a
great centre of trade. Rivers and hills beautified it, delightful landscapes
surrounded it, and it possessed many parks, gardens, woods, lakes and
lotus-ponds. Its king was Milinda, a man who was learned, experienced,
intelligent and competent, and who at the proper times carefully observed
all the appropriate Brahminic rites, with regard to things past, future and
present. As a disputant he was hard to assail, hard to overcome, and he
was recognized as a prominent sectarian teacher.

One day a numerous company of Arhats, who lived in a well-

protected spot in the Himalayas, sent a messenger to the Venerable
Nagasena, then at the Asoka Park in Patna, asking him to come, as they
wished to see him. Nagasena immediately complied by vanishing from
where he was and miraculously appearing before them. And the Arhats
said to him: 'That king Milinda, Nagasena, constantly harasses the order
of monks with questions and counter-questions, with arguments and
counter-arguments. Please go, Nagasena, and subdue him!' But
Nagasena replied: 'Never mind just this one king Milinda! If all the kings
of India would come to me with their questions, I could well dispose of
them, and they would give no more trouble after that I You may go to
Sagala without any fear whatever!' And the Elders went to Sagala,
lighting up the city with their yellow robes which shone like lamps, and
bringing with them the fresh breeze of the holy mountains.

The Venerable Nagasena stayed at the Sankheyya hermitage

together with 80,000 monks. King Milinda, accompanied by a retinue of
500 Greeks, went up to where he was, gave him a friendly and courteous
greeting, and sat on one side. Nagasena returned his greetings, and his
courtesy pleased the king's heart.

2. The Doctrine Of Not-Self

2a. The chariot

And King Milinda asked him: 'How is your Reverence known, and
what is your name, Sir?' 'As Nagasena I am known, O great king, and as
Nagasena do my fellow religious habitually address me. But although
parents give such names as Nagasena, or Surasena, or Virasena, or
Sihasena, nevertheless this word "Nagasena" is just a denomination, a
designation, a conceptual term, a current appellation, a mere name. For
no real person can here be apprehended.'

But King Milinda explained: 'Now listen, you 500 Greeks and
80,000 monks, this Nagasena tells me that he is not a real person! How
can I be expected to agree with that!' And to Nagasena he said: 'If, most
reverend Nagasena, no person can be apprehended in reality, who then, I
ask you, gives you what you require by way of robes, food, lodging, and
medicines? Who is it that consumes them? Who is it that guards morality,
practises meditation, and realizes the [four] Paths and their Fruits, and
thereafter Nirvana? Who is it that kills living beings, takes what is not
given, commits sexual misconduct, tells lies, drinks intoxicants? Who is it
that commits the five Deadly Sins? For, if there were no person, there
could be no merit and no demerit; no doer of meritorious or
demeritorious deeds, and no agent behind them; no fruit of good and evil
deeds, and no reward or punishment for them. If someone should kill
you, O Venerable Nagasena, he would not commit any murder. And you
yourself, Venerable Nagasena, would not be a real teacher, or instructor,
or ordained monk! You just told me that your fellow religious habitually
address you as "Nagasena". What then is this "Nagasena"? Are perhaps
the hairs of the head "Nagasena"? '-'No, great king!' 'Or perhaps the hairs
of the body?' - 'No, great king!' 'Or perhaps the nails, teeth, skin,
muscles, sinews, bones, marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, serous
membranes, spleen, lungs, intestines, mesentery, stomach, excrement,
the bile, phlegm, pus, blood, grease, fat, tears, sweat, spittle, snot, fluid
of the joints, urine, or the brain in the skull - are they this "Nagasena"?' -
'No, great king!' 'Or is form this "Nagasena", or feeling, or perceptions, or
impulses, or consciousness?' - 'No, great king!' Then is it the combination
of form, feelings, perceptions, impulses, and consciousness? - 'No, great
king!' 'Then is it outside the combination of form, feelings, perceptions,
impulses, and consciousness?' - 'No, great king!'

Then, ask as I may, I can discover no Nagasena at all. Just a mere

sound is this "Nagasena", but who is the real Nagasena? Your Reverence
has told a lie, has spoken a falsehood! There really is no Nagasena!'

Thereupon the Venerable Nagasena said to King Milinda: 'As a

king you have been brought up in great refinement and you avoid
roughness of any kind. If you would walk at midday on this hot, burning,
and sandy ground, then your feet would have to tread on the rough and
gritty gravel and pebbles, and they would hurt you, your body would get
tired, your mind impaired, and your awareness of your body would be
associated with pain. How then did you come - on foot, or on a mount?'

'I did not come, Sir, on foot, but on a chariot.' - 'If you have come
on a chariot, then please explain to me what a chariot is. Is the pole the
chariot?' 'No, reverend Sir!' - 'Is then the axle the chariot?' 'No, reverend
Sir!' - 'Is it then the wheels, or the framework, or the flag-staff, or the
yoke, or the reins, or the goad-stick?' 'No, reverend Sir!' - 'Then is it the
combination of pole, axle, wheels, framework, flagstaff, yoke, reins, and
goad which is the "chariot"?' - 'No, reverend Sir' - 'Then is this "chariot"
outside the combination of pole, axle, wheels, framework, flag-staff,
yoke, reins, and goad?' 'No, reverend Sir!'

- 'Then, ask as I may, I can discover no chariot at all. Just a mere

sound is this "chariot". But what is the real chariot? Your Majesty has told
a lie, has spoken a falsehood! There really is no chariot! Your Majesty is
the greatest king in the whole of India. Of whom then are you afraid, that
you do not speak the truth?' And he exclaimed: 'Now listen, you 500
Greeks and 80,000 monks, this king Milinda tells me that he has come on
a chariot. But when asked to explain to me what a chariot is, he cannot
establish its existence. How can one possibly approve of that?'

The five hundred Greeks thereupon applauded the Venerable

Nagasena and said to king Milinda: 'Now let your Majesty get out of that if
you can!'

But king Milinda said to Nagasena: 'I have not, Nagasena, spoken
a falsehood. For it is in dependence on the pole, the axle, the wheels, the
framework, the flagstaff, etc., that there takes place this denomination
"chariot", this designation, this conceptual term, a current appellation and
a mere name'.

— 'Your Majesty has spoken well about the chariot. It is just so

with me. In dependence on the thirty-two parts of the body and the five
Skandhas there takes place this denomination "Nagasena", this
designation, this conceptual term, a current appellation and a mere
name. In ultimate reality, however, this person cannot be apprehended.
And this has been said by our Sister Vajira when she was face to face
with the Lord:

"Where all constituent parts are present,

The word 'a chariot' is applied.
So likewise where the skandhas are,
The term a 'being' commonly is used."'

'It is wonderful, Nagasena, it is astonishing, Nagasena! Most

brilliantly have these questions been answered! Were the Buddha himself
here, he would approve what you have said. Well spoken, Nagasena, well
spoken!'

2b. Personal identity and rebirth

The king asked: 'When someone is reborn, Venerable Nagasena, is

he the same as the one who just died, or is he another?'

The Elder replied: 'He is neither the same nor another'.

- 'Give me an illustration!' - 'What do you think, great king: when

you were a tiny infant, newly born and quite soft, were you then the
same as the one who is now grown up?' - 'No, that infant was one, I, now
grown up, am another'. - 'If that is so, then, great king, you have had no
mother, no father, no teaching, and no schooling I Do we then take it that
there is one mother for the embryo in the first stage, another for the
second stage, another for the third, another for the fourth, another for
the baby, another for the grown-up man? Is the schoolboy one person,
and the one who has finished school another? Does one commit a crime,
but the hands and feet of another are cut off?' - 'Certainly not! But what
would you say, Reverend Sir, to all that?'

- The Elder replied: 'I was neither the tiny infant, newly born and
quite soft, nor am I now the grown-up man; but all these are comprised
in one unit depending on this very body.' — 'Give me a simile!' - 'If a man
were to light a lamp, could it give light throughout the whole night?' -
'Yes, it could.' - 'Is now the flame which burns in the first watch of the
night the same as the one which burns in the second?' - 'It is not the
same.' - 'Or is the flame which burns in the second watch the same as the
one which burns in the last one?' - 'It is not the same.' - 'Do we then take
it that there is one lamp in the first watch of the night, another in the
second, and another again in the third?' - 'No, it is because of just that
one lamp that the light shines throughout the night.' - 'Even so must we
understand the collocation of a series of successive dharmas. At rebirth
one dharma arises, while another stops; but the two processes take place
 almost simultaneously (i.e. they are continuous). Therefore the first act of
consciousness in the new existence is neither the same as the last act of
consciousness in the previous existence, nor is it another.'

• 'Give me another simile!' - 'Milk, once the milking is done, turns after
some time into curds; from curds it turns into fresh butter, and from
fresh butter into ghee. Would it now be correct to say that the milk is
the same thing as the curds, or the fresh butter, or the ghee?' - 'No, it
would not. But they have been produced because of it.' - 'Just so must
be understood the collocation of a series of successive dharmas.'

2c. Personal identity and Karma

The king asked: 'Is there, Nagasena, any being which passes on
from this body to another body?' - 'No, your majesty!' - 'if there were no
passing on from this body to another, would not one then in one's next
life be freed from the evil deeds committed in the past?' - 'Yes, that
would be so if one were not linked once again with a new organism. But
since, your majesty, one is linked once again with a new organism,
therefore one is not freed from one's evil deeds.' - 'Give me a simile!' - 'If
a man should steal another man's mangoes, would he deserve a
thrashing for that?' - 'Yes, of course!' -'But he would not have stolen the
very same mangoes as the other one had planted. Why then should he
deserve a thrashing?' - 'For the reason that the stolen mangoes had
grown because of those that were planted.' - 'Just so, your majesty, it is
because of the deeds one does, whether pure or impure, by means of this
psycho-physical organism, that one is once again linked with another
psycho-physical organism, and is not freed from one's evil deeds.' - "Very
good, Nagasena!'

3. The Five Cardinal Virtues

 The king said: 'Is it through wise attention that people become
exempt from further rebirth?' - 'Yes, that is due to wise attention, and
also to wisdom, and the other wholesome dharmas.'

- 'But is not wise attention the same as wisdom?'

- 'No, your majesty! Attention is one thing, and wisdom another.

Sheep and goats, oxen and buffaloes, camels and asses have attention,
but wisdom they have not.'

- 'Well put, Nagasena!'

The king said: 'What is the mark of attention, and what is the
mark of wisdom?' - 'Consideration is the mark of attention, cutting off
that of wisdom.' - 'How is that? Give me a simile!' - 'You know barley-
reapers, I suppose?' - 'Yes, I do.' - 'How then do they reap the barley?' -
'With the left hand they seize a bunch of barley, in the right hand they
hold a sickle, and they cut the barley off with that sickle.' - 'Just so, your
majesty, the Yogin seizes his mental processes with his attention, and by
his wisdom he cuts off the defilements.' -'Well put, Venerable Nagasena! '

The king said: 'When you just spoke of "the other wholesome
dharmas", which ones did you mean?' - 'I meant morality, faith, vigour,
mindfulness, and concentration.' -'And what is the mark of morality?' -
'Morality has the mark of providing a basis for all wholesome dharmas,
whatever they may be. When based on morality, all the wholesome
dharmas will not dwindle away.' - 'Give me an illustration!' -'As all plants
and animals which increase, grow, and prosper, do so with the earth as
their support, with the earth as their basis, just so the Yogin, with
morality as his support, with morality as his basis, develops the five
cardinal virtues, i.e. the cardinal virtues of faith, vigour, mindfulness,
concentration, and wisdom."

'Give me a further illustration!'

'As the builder of a city when constructing a town first of all clears
the site, removes all stumps and thorns, and levels it; and only after that
he lays out and marks off the roads and cross-roads, and so builds the
city. Even so the Yogin develops the five cardinal virtues with morality as
his support, with morality as his basis.'

The king said: 'What is the mark of faith?' - 'Faith makes serene,
and it leaps forward.' - 'And how does faith make serene?' - 'When faith
arises it arrests the [five] Hindrances, and the heart becomes free from
them, clear, serene and undisturbed.' — 'Give me an illustration!' — 'A
universal monarch might on his way, together with his fourfold army,
cross over a small stream. Stirred up by the elephants and horses, by the
chariots and infantry, the water would become disturbed, agitated and
muddy. Having crossed over, the universal monarch would order his men
to bring some water for him to drink. But the king would possess a
miraculous water-clearing gem, and his men, in obedience to his
command, would throw it into the stream. Then at once all fragments of
vegetation would float away, the mud would settle at the bottom, the
stream would become clear, serene and undisturbed, and fit to be drunk
by the universal monarch. Here the stream corresponds to the heart, the
monarch's men to the Yogin, the fragments of vegetation and the mud to
the defilements, and the miraculous water-clearing gem to faith.'

'And how does faith leap forward?'-'When the Yogin sees that the
hearts of others have been set free, he leaps forward, by way of
aspiration, to the various Fruits of a holy life, and he makes efforts to
attain the yet unattained, to find the yet unfound, to realize the yet
unrealized.' - 'Give me an illustration!' - 'Suppose that a great cloud were
to burst over a hill-slope. The water then would flow down the slope,
would first fill all the hill's clefts, fissures, and gullies, and would then run
into the river below, making its banks overflow on both sides. Now
suppose further that a great crowd of people had come along, and unable
to size up either the width or the depth of the river, should stand
frightened and hesitating on the bank. But then some man would come
along, who, conscious of his own strength and power, would firmly tie on
his loin-cloth and jump across the river. And the great crowd of people,
seeing him on the other side, would cross likewise. Even so the Yogin,
when he has seen that the hearts of others have been set free, leaps
forward, by aspiration, to the various Fruits of the holy life, and he makes
efforts to attain the yet unattained, to find the yet unfound, to realize the
yet unrealized. And this is what the Lord has said in the Samyutta Nikaja:

"By faith the flood is crossed,

By wakefulness the sea;
By vigour ill is passed;
By wisdom cleansed is he."'

'Well put, Nagasena!'

The king asked: 'And what is the mark of vigour?'Vigour props up,
and, when propped up by vigour, all the wholesome dharmas do not
dwindle away.' - 'Give me a simile!' - If a man's house were falling down,
he would prop it up with a new piece of wood, and, so supported, that
house would not collapse.'

The king asked: 'And what is the mark of mindfulness? -'Calling to

mind and taking up.'

'How is calling to mind a mark of mindfulness?' - 'When

mindfulness arises, one calls to mind the dharmas which participate in
what is wholesome and unwholesome, blameable and blameless, inferior
and sublime, dark and light, i.e. these are the four applications of
mindfulness, these the four right efforts, these the four roads to psychic
power, these the five cardinal virtues, these the five powers, these the
seven limbs of enlightenment, this is the holy eightfold path; this is calm,
this insight, this knowledge and this emancipation. Thereafter the Yogin
tends those dharmas which should be tended, and he does not tend those
which should not be tended; he partakes of those dharmas which should
be followed, and he does not partake of those which should not be
followed. It is in this sense that calling to mind is a mark of mindfulness.'
-'Give me a simile!'-'It is like the treasurer of a universal monarch, who
each morning and evening reminds his royal master of his magnificent
assets: "S o many elephants you have, so many horses, so many
chariots, so much infantry, so many gold coins, so much bullion, so much
property; may your majesty bear this in mind!" In this way he calls to
mind his master's wealth.'

'And how does mindfulness take up?' - 'When mindfulness arises,

the outcome of beneficial and harmful dharmas is examined in this way:
"These dharmas are beneficial, these harmful; these dharmas are helpful,
these unhelpful." Thereafter the Yogin removes the harmful dharmas, and
takes up the beneficial ones; he removes the unhelpful dharmas, and
takes up the helpful ones. It is in this sense that mindfulness takes up.' -
'Give me a comparison!' - 'It is like the invaluable adviser of a universal
monarch who knows what is beneficial and what harmful to his royal
master, what is helpful and what unhelpful. Thereafter what is harmful
and unhelpful can be removed, what is beneficial and helpful can be taken
up.'

The king asked: 'And what is the mark of concentration?' -'It

stands at the head. Whatever wholesome dharmas there may be, they all
are headed by concentration, they bend towards concentration, lead to
concentration, incline to concentration.' - 'Give me a comparison!' - 'It is
as with a building with a pointed roof: whatever rafters there are, they all
converge on the top, bend towards the top, meet at the top, and the top
occupies the most prominent place. So with concentration in relation to
the other wholesome dharmas.' -'Give me a further comparison!' - 'If a
king were to enter battle with his fourfold army, then all his troops - the
elephants, cavalry, chariots, and infantry-would be headed by him, and
would be ranged around him. Such is the position of concentration in
relation to the other wholesome dharmas.'

The king then asked: 'What then is the mark of wisdom? -'Cutting
off is, as I said before, one mark of wisdom. In addition it illuminates.' -
'And how does wisdom illuminate?' -'When wisdom arises, it dispels the
darkness of ignorance, generates the illumination of knowledge, sheds
the light of cognition, and makes the holy truths stand out clearly.
Thereafter the Yogin, with his correct wisdom, can see impermanence, ill,
and not-self.'-'Give me a comparison!'-'It is like a lamp which a man
would take into a dark house. It would dispel the darkness, would
illuminate, shed light, and make the forms in the house stand out clearly.'
- 'Well put, Nagasena!'

4. Emancipation And Nirvana

4a. Problems of Nirvana

The king asked: 'Is cessation Nirvana?' - 'Yes, your majesty!' -

'How is that, Nagasena?' - 'All the foolish common people take delight in
the senses and their objects, are impressed by them, are attached to
them. In that way they are carried away by the flood, and are not set free
from birth, old age, and death, from grief, lamentation, pain, sadness,
and despair-they are, I say, not set free from suffering. But the well-
informed holy disciples do not take delight in the senses and their
objects, are not impressed by them, are not attached to them, and in
consequence their craving ceases; the cessation of craving leads
successively to that of grasping, of becoming, of birth, of old age and
death, of grief, lamentation, pain, sadness, and despair - that is to say to
the cessation of all this mass of ill. It is thus that cessation is Nirvana.' -
"Very good, Nagasena!'

The king asked: 'Do all win Nirvana?' - 'No, they do not. Only
those win Nirvana who, progressing correctly, know by their
superknowledge those dharmas which should be known by
superknowledge, comprehend those dharmas which should be
comprehended, forsake those dharmas which should be forsaken, develop
those dharmas which should be developed, and reali2e those dharmas
which should be realized.' - 'Very good, Nagasena!'

The king asked: 'Do those who have not won Nirvana know how
happy a state it is?' - 'Yes, they do.' - 'But how can one know this about
Nirvana without having attained it?' - 'Now what do you think, your
majesty? Do those who have not had their hands and feet cut off know
how bad it is to have them cut off?' - 'Yes, they do.'- 'And how do they
know it?' - 'From hearing the sound of the lamentations of those whose
hands and feet have been cut off.' - 'So it is by hearing the words of
those who have seen Nirvana that one knows it to be a happy state.' -
'Very good, Nagasena!'

4b. The nature of Nirvana

King Milinda said: 'I will grant you, Nagasena, that Nirvana is
absolute Ease, and that nevertheless one cannot point to its form or
shape, its duration or size, either by simile or explanation, by reason or
by argument. But is there perhaps some quality of Nirvana which it
shares with other things, and which lends itself to a metaphorical
explanation?' - 'Its form, O king, cannot be elucidated by similes, but its
qualities can.' -'How good to hear that, Nagasena! Speak then, quickly, so
that I may have an explanation of even one of the aspects of Nirvana!
Appease the fever of my heart! Allay it with the cool sweet breezes of
your words!'

'Nirvana shares one quality with the lotus, two with water, three
with medicine, ten with space, three with the wishing jewel, and five with
a mountain peak. As the lotus is unstained by water, so is Nirvana
unstained by all the defilements. - As cool water allays feverish heat, so
also Nirvana is cool and allays the fever of all the passions. Moreover, as
water removes the thirst of men and beasts who are exhausted, parched,
thirsty, and overpowered by heat, so also Nirvana removes the craving
for sensuous enjoyments, the craving for further becoming, the craving
for the cessation of becoming. -As medicine protects from the torments of
poison, so Nirvana from the torments of the poisonous passions.
Moreover, as medicine puts an end to sickness, so Nirvana to all
sufferings. Finally, Nirvana and medicine both give security. - And these
are the ten qualities which Nirvana shares with space. Neither is born,
grows old, dies, passes away, or is reborn; both are unconquerable,
cannot be stolen, are unsupported, are roads respectively for birds and
Arhats to journey on, are unobstructed and infinite. - Like the wishing
jewel, Nirvana grants all one can desire, brings joy, and sheds light.-As a
mountain peak is lofty and exalted, so is Nirvana. As a mountain peak is
unshakeable, so is Nirvana. As a mountain peak is inaccessible, so is
Nirvana inaccessible to all the passions. As no seeds can grow on a
mountain peak, so the seeds of all the passions cannot grow in Nirvana.
And finally, as a mountain peak is free from all desire to please or
displease, so is Nirvana.' - 'Well said, Nagasena! So it is, and as such I
accept it.'

4c. The realisation of Nirvana

King Milinda said: 'In the world one can see things produced of
karma, things produced from a cause, things produced by nature. Tell
me, what in the world is not born of karma, or a cause, or of nature?' -
"There are two such things, space and Nirvana.' - 'Do not, Nagasena,
corrupt the Jina's words, do not answer the question ignorantly!' - 'What
did I say, your majesty, that you speak thus to me?' - 'What you said
about space not being born of karma, or from a cause, or from nature,
that was correct. But with many hundreds of arguments has the Lord
proclaimed to his disciples the way to the realization of Nirvana - and
then you say that Nirvana is not born of a cause!' - 'It is true that the
Lord has with many hundreds of arguments proclaimed to his disciples
the way to the realization of Nirvana; but that does not mean that he has
spoken of a cause for the production of Nirvana.'

'Here, Nagasena, we do indeed enter from darkness into greater

darkness, from a jungle into a deeper jungle, from a thicket into a denser
thicket, inasmuch as we are given a cause for the realization of Nirvana,
but no cause for the production of that same dharma (i.e. Nirvana). If
there is a cause for the realization of Nirvana, we would also expect one
for its production. If there is a son's father, one would for that reason also
expect the father to have had a father; if there is a pupil's teacher, one
would for that reason also expect the teacher to have had a teacher; if
there is a seed for a sprout, one would for that reason also expect the
seed to have had a seed. Just so, if there is cause for the realization of
Nirvana, one would for that reason also expect a cause- for its
production. If a tree or creeper has a top, then for that reason it must
also have a middle and a root. Just so, if there is a cause for the
realization of Nirvana, one would for that reason also expect a cause for
its production.' - 'Nirvana, O king, is not something that should be
produced. That is why no cause for its production has been proclaimed.' -
'Please, Nagasena, give me a reason, convince me by an argument, so
that I can understand this point!'

'Well then, O king, attend carefully, listen closely, and I will tell
you the reason for this. Could a man with his natural strength go up from
here to the Himalaya mountains?' - 'Yes, he could.' - 'But could that man
with his natural strength bring the Himalaya mountains here?' - 'No, he
could not.' -'Just so it is possible to point out the way to the realization of
Nirvana, but impossible to show a cause for its production. Could a man,
who with his natural strength has crossed in a boat over the great ocean,
get to the farther shore?' - 'Yes, he could.' - 'But could that man with his
natural strength bring the farther shore of the great ocean here?' - "No,
he could not.' - 'Just so one can point out the way to the realization of
Nirvana, but one cannot show a cause for its production. And what is the
reason for that? Because that dharma, Nirvana, is unconditioned.' - 'Is
then, Nagasena, Nirvana unconditioned?' - 'So it is, O king, unconditioned
is Nirvana, not made by anything. Of Nirvana one cannot say that it is
produced, or unproduced, or that it should be produced; that it is past, or
future, or present; or that one can become aware of it by the eye, or the
ear, or the nose, or the tongue, or the body.' - In that case, Nagasena,
you indicate Nirvana as a dharma which is not, and Nirvana does not
exist.' - 'Nirvana is something which is. It is cognizable by the mind. A
holy disciple, who has followed the right road, sees Nirvana with a mind
which is pure, sublime, straight, unimpeded and disinterested.' - 'But
what then is that Nirvana like? Give me a simile, and convince me by
arguments. For a dharma which exists can surely be illustrated by a
simile!"

'Is there, great king, something called "wind"?'-'Yes, there is such

a thing.' - 'Please, will your majesty show me the wind, its colour and
shape, and whether it is thin or thick, long or short.' - 'One cannot point
to the wind like that. For the wind does not lend itself to being grasped
with the hands, or to being touched. But nevertheless there is such a
thing as "wind".' - 'If one cannot point to the wind, one might conclude
that there is no wind at all.' - 'But I know, Nagasena, that there is wind, I
am quite convinced of it, in spite of the fact that I cannot point it out.' -
'Just so, your majesty, there is Nirvana, but one cannot point to Nirvana,
either by its colour or its shape.' - 'Very good, Nagasena. Gear is the
simile, convincing is the argument. So it is, and so I accept it: there is a
Nirvana.'

4d. The saints and their bodies

The king asked: 'Does someone who is no more reborn feel any
unpleasant feelings?' - The Elder replied: 'Some he feels, and others not.'
- 'Which ones does he feel, and which ones not?' - 'He feels physical, but
not mental pain.' - How is that?' - "The causes and conditions which
produce feelings of physical pain have not ceased to operate, whereas
those which produce feelings of mental pain have. And so it has been said
by the Lord: "Only one kind of feelings he feels, physical, and not
mental."' - 'And when he feels a physical pain, why does he not escape
into final Nirvana, by dying quickly?' - 'An Arhat has no more likes or
dislikes. Arhats do not shake down the unripe fruit, the wise wait for it to
mature. And so it has been said by the Elder Sariputra, the Dharma's
general:

"It is not death, it is not life I cherish.

I bide my time, a servant waiting for his wage.
It is not death, it is not life I cherish.
I bide my time, in mindfulness and wisdom steeped."'

'Well put, Nagasenal'

The king asked: 'Is the body dear to you recluses?' - 'No, it is not.'
- 'But why then do you look after it, and cherish it so?' - 'Has your
majesty somewhere and at some time in the course of a battle been
wounded by an arrow?' - 'Yes, that has happened.' - 'In such cases, is not
the wound anointed with salve, smeared with oil, and bandaged with fine
linen?' -'Yes, so it is.' - 'Is then this treatment a sign that the wound is
dear to your majesty?' - 'No, it is not dear to me, but all this is done to it
so that the flesh may grow again.' - 'Just so the body is not dear to the
recluses. Without being attached to the body they take care of it for the
purpose of making a holy life possible. The Lord has compared the body
to a wound, and so the recluses take care for the body as for a wound,
without being attached to it. For the Lord has said:

"A damp skin hides it, but it is a wound, large, with nine openings,
All around it oozes impure and evil-smelling matter."'

'Well answered, Nagasenal'

The king asked: 'What is the difference between someone with

greed and someone without greed?' - "The one is attached, the other
unattached.'-'What does that mean?''The one covets, the other does not.'
- 'As I see it, the greedy person and the one who is free from greed both
wish for agreeable food, and neither of them wishes for bad food.' -'But
the one who is not free from greed eats his food while experiencing both
its taste and some greed for tastes; the one who is free from greed eats
his food while experiencing its taste, but without having any greed for it.'
- 'Very good, Nagasena!'

The king asked: 'For what reason does the common worldling
suffer both physical and mental pain?' - 'Because his thought is so
undeveloped. He is like a hungry and excited ox, who has been tied up
with a weak, fragile and short piece of straw or creeper, and who, when
agitated, rushes off, taking his tether with him. So, someone whose
thought is undeveloped, gets agitated in his mind when a pain arises in
him, and his agitated mind bends and contorts his body, and makes it
writhe. Undeveloped in his mind he trembles, shrieks, and cries with
terror. This is the reason why the common worldling suffers both physical
and mental pain.' - 'And what is the reason why Arhats feel only one kind
of feelings, physical and not mental?' - 'The thought of the Arhats is
developed, well developed, it is tamed, well tamed, it is obedient and
disciplined. When invaded by a painful feeling, the Arhat firmly grasps at
the idea of its impermanence, and ties his thought to the post of
contemplation. And his thought, tied to the post of contemplation, does
not tremble or shake, remains steadfast and undisturbed. But the
disturbing influence of the pain, nevertheless, makes his body bend,
contorts it, makes it writhe.

'That, Nagasena, is indeed a most wonderful thing in this world,

that someone's mind should remain unshaken when his body is shaken.
Tell me the reason for that!' - 'Suppose, your majesty, that there is a
gigantic tree, with trunk, branches, and leaves. If it were hit by the force
of the wind, its branches would shake, but would the trunk also shake?' -
'No, Venerable Sir!' - 'Just so the thought of the Arhat does not tremble
or shake, like the trunk of the gigantic tree.' - 'Wonderful, Nagasena,
most admirable, Nagasena!'

5. Conclusion

The king, as a result of his discussions with the Venerable

Nagasena, was overjoyed and humbled; he saw the value in the Buddha's
religion, gained confidence in the Triple Jewel, lost his spikiness and
obstinacy, gained faith in the qualities of the Elder - in his observation of
the monastic rules, his spiritual progress and his general demeanour -
became trusting and resigned, free from conceit and arrogance. Like a
cobra whose fangs have been drawn, he said: 'Well said, well said,
Nagasena! You have answered my questions, which would have given
scope to a Buddha, you have answered them well! Apart from the Elder
Sariputra, the supreme general of the Dharma, there is no one in this
religion of the Buddha who can deal with questions as well as you do.
Forgive my transgressions, Nagasena! May the Venerable Nagasena
accept me as a lay-follower, as one who takes his refuge with the Triple
Jewel, from to-day onwards, as long as I shall live!'
 2. The Heart Sutra

I. The invocation

Homage to the Perfection of Wisdom, the lovely, the holy!

II. The prologue

Avalokita, the holy Lord and Bodhisattva, was moving in the deep
course of the wisdom which has gone beyond. He looked down from on
high, he beheld but five heaps, and he saw that in their own-being they
were empty.

III. The dialectics of emptiness. First stage

Here, O Sariputra, form is emptiness, and the very emptiness is

form; emptiness does not differ from form, form does not differ from
emptiness; whatever is form, that is emptiness, whatever is emptiness,
that is form. The same is true of feelings, perceptions, impulses, and
consciousness.

IV. The dialectics of emptiness. Second stage

Here, O Sariputra, all dharmas are marked with emptiness; they

are not produced or stopped, not defiled ot immaculate, not deficient or
complete.

V. The dialectics of emptiness. Third stage

 Therefore, O Sariputra, in emptiness there is no form, nor feeling,
nor perception, nor impulse, nor consciousness; no eye, ear, nose,
tongue, body, mind; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, touchables or
objects of mind; no sight-organ-element, and so forth, until we come to:
no mind-consciousness-element; there is no ignorance, no extinction of
ignorance, and so forth, until we come to: there is no decay and death,
no extinction of decay and death; there is no suffering, no origination, no
stopping, no path; there is no cognition, no attainment, and no non-
attainment.

VI. The concrete embodiment and practical basis of

emptiness

Therefore, O Sariputra, it is because of his indifference to any kind

of personal attainment.that a Bodhisattva, through having relied on the
perfection of wisdom, dwells without thought-coverings. In the absence of
thought-coverings he has not been made to tremble, he has overcome
what can upset, and in the end he attains to Nirvana.

VII. Full emptiness is the basis also of Buddhahood

All those who appear as Buddhas in the three periods of time fully
awake to the utmost, right and perfect enlightenment because they have
relied on the perfection of wisdom.

VIII. The teaching brought within reach of the

comparatively unenlightened

Therefore one should know the Prajnaparamita as the great spell,

the spell of great knowledge, the utmost spell, the unequalled spell,
allayer of all suffering, in truth - for what could go wrong? By the
Prajnaparamita has this spell been delivered. It runs like this: Gone,
Gone, Gone beyond, Gone altogether beyond, O what an awakening, All
Hail! This completes the Heart of Perfect Wisdom.

3. From The 'Diamond Sutra'

The Bodhisattva and Dipankara

The Lord asked Subhuti: What do you think, was there any
dharma which awoke the Tathagata, when he was with the Tathagata
Dipankara (see page 20) to the utmost, right, and perfect enlightenment?
- Subhuti replied: As I understand the meaning of the Lord's teaching,
this was not due to any dharma. - The Lord said: So it is, Subhuti, so it
is. If again, Subhuti, the Tathagata had fully known any dharma, then the
Tathagata would not have predicted of me: 'You, young Brahmin, will in a
future period be a Tathagata, Arhat, Fully Enlightened, by the name of
Shakyamuni!' But he made this prediction because it is not through any
dharma that the Tathagata, the Arhat, the Fully Enlightened One has fully
known the utmost, tight, and perfect enlightenment.

The initial vow of a Bodhisattva

The Lord said: Here, Subhuti, someone who has set out in the
vehicle of a Bodhisattva should think in this manner: 'As many beings as
there are in the universe of beings, comprehended under the term
"beings"-egg-born, born from a womb, moisture-born, or miraculously
born; with or without form; with perception, without perception, or with
neither perception nor no-perception - as far as any conceivable form of
beings is conceived: all these I must lead to Nirvana, into that Realm of
Nirvana which leaves nothing behind. And yet, although innumerable
beings have thus been led to Nirvana, in fact no being at all has been led
to Nirvana.' And why? If in a Bodhisattva the notion of a 'being' should
take place, he could not be called a 'Bodhi-being'. And why? He is not to
be called a Bodhi-being, in whom the notion of a self or of a being should
take place, or the notion of a living soul or a person.

The practice of perfect giving

Moreover, Subhuti, a Bodhisattva who gives gifts should not lean

on anything, or anywhere. When he gives gifts he should not be
supported by sight-objects, sounds, smells, tastes, touchables, or mind-
objects. For, Subhuti, the Bodhisattva, the great being should give gifts in
such a way that he is not supported by the notion of a sign. And why?
Because the heap of merit of that Bodhi-being, who unsupported gives a
gift, is not easy to measure.

The practice of perfect patience

Moreover, Subhuti, the Tathagata's perfection of patience is really

a non-perfection. And why? Because, Subhuti, when the king of Kali cut
my flesh from every limb, at that time I had no notion of a self, a being, a
soul, or a person. In fact I had no notion or non-notion at all. And why?
If, Subhuti, at that time I had had a notion of self, I would also have
conceived ill-will at that time. And likewise if I had had a notion of a
being, a soul, or a person. And why? By my supernatural knowledge I
know the past, and that five hundred births ago I was the Rishi 'Preacher
of Patience', and furthermore that then also I had no notion of a self, a
being, a soul, or a person.

The Bodhisattva's final Nirvana

Therefore then, Subhuti, the Bodhisattva should produce an

unsupported thought, i.e. a thought which is nowhere supported, a
thought unsupported by sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touchables, or
mind-objects.

The Bodhisattva as a fully enlightened Buddha

The Lord asked: What do you think, Subhuti, is there any dharma
which the Tathagata has fully known as the utmost, right, and perfect
enlightenment, or is there any dharma which the Tathagata has
demonstrated?-Subhuti replied; No, not as I understand what the Lord
has said. And why? This dharma which the Tathagata has fully known or
demonstrated - it cannot be grasped, it cannot be talked about, it is
neither a dharma nor a non-dharma. And why? Because an Absolute
exalts the Holy Persons.

The Buddha's physical body

The Lord asked: What do you think, Subhuti, can the Tathagata be
seen by means of his possession of marks? -Subhuti replied: No indeed,
O Lord, not as I understand what the Lord has taught. - The Lord said:
Well said, well said, Subhuti. So it is, Subhuti, so it is, as you say. For if
the Tathagata were one who could be seen by his possession of the
thirty-two Marks, then also the universal monarch would be a Tathagata.
Therefore the Tathagata is not to be seen by means of his possession of
Marks. - And further the Lord taught on that occasion the following
stanza:

Those who by my form did see me, And those who followed me by
voice, Wrong the efforts they engaged in, Me those people will not see.

The Buddha as the Tathagata

Whosoever says that the Tathagata goes or comes, stands, sits, or

lies down, he does not understand the meaning of my teaching. And why?
'Tathagata' is called one who has not gone to anywhere, and who has not
come from anywhere. Therefore is he called 'the Tathagata, the Arhat,
the Fully Enlightened One'.

The Buddha as a teacher

The Lord asked: What do you think, Subhuti, does it occur to the
Tathagata that he has demonstrated dharma? - Subhuti replied: No
indeed, O Lord, it does not. - The Lord said: Whosoever should say that
'the Tathagata has demonstrated dharma', he would speak falsely, he
would misrepresent me by seizing on what is not there. And why? One
speaks of 'demonstration of dharma', Subhuti, but there is not any
dharma which could be apprehended as demonstration of dharma.

The Buddha as a saviour

What do you think, Subhuti, does it occur to a Tathagata that he

has set beings free? Not so should one see it, Subhuti. And why? There is
not any being whom the Tathagata has set free. For if there had been any
being to be set free by the Tathagata, then surely there would have been
on the part of the Tathagata a seizing on a self, a being, a soul, a person.
One speaks of 'seizing on a self', but as a no-seizing, Subhuti, has that
been taught by the Tathagata. And yet it has been seized upon by foolish
common people. One speaks of 'foolish common people', but as really no
people have they been taught by the Tathagata. Therefore are they called
'foolish common people'.

The application to the present day

Subhuti asked: Will there be any beings in the future period, in

the last time, in the last epoch, in the last five hundred years, at the time
of the collapse of the good doctrine, who, when these words of the Sutra
are being taught, will understand their truth?-The Lord replied: Do not
speak thus, Subhuti! Yes, even then there will be such beings. For even
at that time, Subhuti, there will be Bodhisattvas who are gifted with good
conduct, gifted with virtuous qualities, gifted with wisdom, and who,
when these words of the Sutra are being taught, will understand their
truth. And these Bodhisattvas, Subhuti, will not be such as have
honoured only one single Buddha, nor such as have planted their roots of
merit under one single Buddha only. On the contrary, Subhuti, those
Bodhisattvas who, when these words of the Sutra are being taught, will
find even one single thought of serene faith, they will be such as have
honoured many hundreds of thousands of Buddhas, such as have planted
their roots of merit under many hundreds of thousands of Buddhas.
Known they are, Subhuti, to the Tathagata through his Buddha-cognition,
seen they are, Subhuti, by the Tathagata with his Buddha-eye, fully
known they are, Subhuti, to the Tathagata. And they all, Subhuti, will
beget and acquire an immeasurable and incalculable heap of merit. And
why? Because, Subhuti, in these Bodhisattvas no perception of a self
takes place, no perception of a being, of a soul, of a person. Nor do they
have a perception of a dharma, or a no-dharma. No perception or non-
perception takes place in them. And why? If, Subhuti, these Bodhisattvas
should have a perception of either a dharma or a no-dharma, they would
thereby seize on a self, a being, a soul, or a person. And why? Because a
Bodhisattva should not seize on either a dharma or a no-dharma.
Therefore this saying has been taught by the Tathagata with a hidden
meaning: 'Those who know the discourse on dharma as like unto a raft,
should forsake dharmas, still more so no-dharmas'.

4. Rahulabhadra. 'Hymn To Perfect Wisdom'

1. Homage to Thee, Perfect Wisdom,

Boundless, and transcending thought!
All Thy limbs are without blemish,
Faultless those who Thee discern.
2. Spotless, unobstructed, silent,
Like the vast expanse of space;
 Who in truth does really see Thee
The Tathagata perceives.
3. As the moonlight does not differ
From the moon, so also Thou
Who abound'st in holy virtues,
And the Teacher of the world.
4. Those, all pity, who came to Thee,
Buddhadharmas heralding,
They will win with ease, O Gracious!
Majesty beyond compare.
5. Pure in heart, when once they duly
Look upon Thee, surely then
Their complete success is certain —
O, Thou fruitful to behold!
6. To all heroes who of others
Have the welfare close at heart,
Thou a mother, who doest nourish,
Givest birth, and givest love.
7. Teachers of the world, the Buddhas,
Are Thine own compassionate sons;
Then art Thou, O Blessed Lady,
Grandam thus of beings all.
8. All th' immaculate perfections
At all times encircle Thee,
As the stars surround the crescent,
O Thou blameless holy one!
9. Those in need of light considering,
The Tathagatas extol
Thee, the Single One, as many,
Multiformed and many-named.
10. As the drops of dew in contact
With the sun's rays disappear,
So all theorizings vanish,
Once one has obtained Thee.
 11. When as fearful Thou appearest
Thou engender'st fear in fools;
When benignly Thou appearest
Comes assurance to the wise.
12. How will one who no affection
Has for Thee, though yet you saved him,
Have, O Mother, greed and loathing
For the many other things?
13. Not from anywhere Thou comest,
And to nowhere dost Thou go;
In no dwelling place have sages
Ever apprehended Thee.
14. Not to see Thee in this manner
Is to have attained to Thee,
Gaining thus the final freedom -
O how wonderful is this!
15. One indeed is bound who sees Thee;
One who sees not is bound too.
One again is freed who sees Thee;
One who sees not freed is too.
16. Wonderful, profound, illustrious,
Hard Thou art to recognize.
Like a mock show Thou art seen, and
Yet Thou art not seen at all.
17. By all Buddhas, Single Buddhas,
By Disciples courted, too,
Thou the one path to salvation,
There's no other verily.
18. Saviours of the world, from pity,
So that men might understand,
Speak of Thee, observing custom,
Yet of Thee they do not speak.
19. Who is able here to praise Thee,
Lacking signs and featureless?
 Thou the range of speech transcending,
Not supported anywhere.
20. In such words of current language
Constantly we laud Thee, whom
None of our acclaim concerneth;
So we reach beatitude.
21. By my praise of Perfect Wisdom
All the merit I may rear,
Let that make the world devoted
To this wisdom without peer.

5. Seng-Ts'an, 'On Believing In Mind'

1. The perfect way knows no difficulties

Except that it refuses to make preferences;
Only when freed from hate and love
It reveals itself fully and without disguise;
A tenth of an inch's difference,
And heaven and earth are set apart.
If you wish to see it before your own eyes
Have no fixed thoughts either for or against it.
2. To set up what you like against what you dislike -
That is the disease of the mind:
When the deep meaning (of the Way) is not understood,
Peace of mind is disturbed to no purpose.
3. (The Way) is perfect like unto vast space,
With nothing wanting, nothing superfluous.
It is indeed due to making choice
That its Suchness is lost sight of.
4. Pursue not the outer entanglements,
Dwell not in the inner Void;
Be serene in the oneness of things,
And dualism vanishes by itself.
 5. When you strive to gain quiescence by stopping motion,
The quiescence thus gained is ever in motion;
As long as you tarry in the dualism,
How can you realize oneness?
6. And when oneness is not thoroughly understood,
In two ways loss is sustained:
The denying of reality is the asserting of it,
And the asserting of emptiness is the denying of it.
7. Wordiness and intellection -
The more with them, the further astray we go;
Away therefore with wordiness and intellection,
And there is no place where we cannot pass freely.
8. When we return to the root, we gain the meaning;
When we pursue external objects we lose the reason.
The moment we are enlightened within,
We go beyond the voidness of a world confronting us.
9. Transformations going on in an empty world which confronts us
Appear real all because of ignorance:
Try not to seek after the true,
Only cease to cherish opinions.
10. Abide not with dualism,
Carefully avoid pursuing it;
As soon as you have right and wrong,
Confusion ensues, and Mind is lost.
11. The two exist because of the One,
But hold not even to this One;
When a mind is not disturbed,
The ten thousand things offer no offence.
12. No offence offered, and no ten thousand things;
No disturbance going, and no mind set up to work;
The subject is quieted when the object ceases,
The object ceases when the subject is quieted.
13. The object is an object for the subject,
The subject is a subject for the object;
 Know that the relativity of the two
Rests ultimately on one emptiness.
14. In one emptiness the two are not distinguished,
And each contains in itself all the ten thousand things;
When no discrimination is made between this and that,
How can a one-sided and prejudiced view arise?
15. The Great Way is calm and large-hearted,
For it nothing is easy, nothing hard;
Small views are irresolute, the more in haste, the tardier they go.
16. Clinging is never kept within bounds,
It is sure to go the wrong way;
Quit it, and things follow their own courses,
While the essence neither departs nor abides.
17. Obey the nature of things, and you are in concord with
The Way, calm, and easy, and free from annoyance;
But when your thoughts are tied, you turn away from the truth,
They grow heavier and duller, and are not at all sound.
18. When they are not sound, the spirit is troubled;
What is the use of being partial and one-sided then?
If you want to walk the course of the One Vehicle,
Be not prejudiced against the six sense objects.
19. When you are not prejudiced against the six sense objects,
You are then one with the enlightenment.
The wise are non-active,
While the ignorant bind themselves up;
While in the Dharma itself there is no individuation.
They ignorantly attach themselves to particular objects.
It is their own mind that creates illusions,
Is this not the greatest of all self-contradictions?
20. The ignorant cherish the idea of rest and unrest,
The enlightened have no likes and dislikes;
All forms of dualism
Are contrived by the ignorant themselves.
They are like unto visions and flowers in the air:
Why should we trouble ourselves to take hold of them?
 Gain and loss, right and wrong —
Away with them once for all!
21. If an eye never falls asleep,
All dreams will by themselves cease;
If the Mind retains its absoluteness,
The ten thousand things are of one Suchness.
22. When the deep mystery of one Suchness is fathomed,
All of a sudden we forget the external entanglements;
When the ten thousand things are viewed in their oneness,
We return to the origin and remain where we ever have been.
23. Forget the wherefore of things,
And we attain to a state beyond analogy;
Movement stopped and there is no movement,
Rest set in motion and there is no rest;
When dualism does no more obtain, Oneness itself abides not.
24. The ultimate end of things where they cannot go any further,
Is not bound by rules and measures;
In the Mind harmonious (with the Way) we have the principle
Of identity, in which we find all strivings quieted;
Doubts and irresolutions are completely done away with,
And the right faith is straightened;
There is nothing left behind,
There is nothing retained,
All is void, lucid, and self-illuminating,
There is no exertion, no waste of energy -
This is where thinking never attains,
This is where the imagination fails to measure.
25. In the higher realm of true Suchness
There is neither 'self nor 'other':
When direct identification is sought,
We can only say 'not two'.
26. In being 'not two", all is the same,
All that is is comprehended in it;
The wise in the ten quarters,
They all enter into this Absolute Reason.
27. This Absolute Reason is beyond quickening (time) and extending (space),
For it one instant is ten thousand years;
Whether we see it or not,
It is manifest everywhere in all the ten quarters.
28. Infinitely small things are as large as large things can be,
For here no external conditions obtain;
Infinitely large things are as small as small things can be,
For objective limits are here of no consideration.
29. What is is the same as what is not,
What is not is the same as what is:
Where this state of things fails to obtain,
Indeed, no tarrying there.
30. One in All,
All in One -
If only this is realized,
No more worry about your not being perfect.
31. When Mind and each believing mind are not divided,
And undivided are each believing mind and Mind,
This is where words fail;
For it is not of the past, present, and future.

6. From Saraha's 'Treasury Of Songs'

He who does not enjoy the senses purified,

And practises only the Void,
Is like a bird that flies up from a ship
And then wheels round and lands back there again.
But do not be caught by attachment to the senses, Saraha says.
Consider the fish, the butterfly, the elephant, the bee, and the deer.
Whatever pours forth from the mind,
Possesses the nature of the owner.
Are waves different from the water?
Their nature like that of space is one and the same.
Who speaks, who listens, and what is confided?
Like the dust in a dusty tunnel,
That which arises in the heart goes to rest in the heart.
 Even as water entering water
Has an identical savour,
So faults and virtues are accounted the same
As there's no opposition between them.
Do not cling to the notion of voidness,
But consider all things alike.
Indeed even the husk of a sesame-seed
Causes pain like that of an arrow.
One thing is so, another is not so.
The action is like that of a wish-granting gem.
Strange how these pandits go to grief through their own errors,
For in self-experience consists this great bliss.
In it all forms are endowed with the sameness of space,
And the mind is held steady with the nature of this same sameness.
When the mind ceases thus to be mind,
The true nature of the Innate shines forth.
In this house and that the matter is discussed,
But the basis of the great bliss is unknown.
The world is enslaved by thought, Saraha says,
And no one has known this non-thought.
There is one Lord revealed in many scriptures,
Who becomes clearly manifest at your wish.
Oneself is the Lord, and another is the enemy.
This is the notion they have in their houses.
In eating the one, he consumes all the other,
But she goes outside and looks for her master.
He is not seen to come,
Nor known to stay or go;
As signless and motionless the supreme Lord is known.
If you do not abandon coming and going,
How may you gain this rare one, this splendour?
Thought is pure when consigned to the forehead.
Do not then conceive differences in yourself.
When there is no distinction between Body, Speech, and Mind,
Then the true nature of the Innate shines forth.
 There how should another arise,
Where the wife without hesitation consumes the householder?
This yogini's action is peerless.
She consumes the householder and the Innate shines forth.
There is neither passion nor absence of passion.
Seated beside her own, her mind destroyed, thus I have seen the yogini.
One eats and drinks and thinks what occurs to the thought.
It is beyond the mind and inconceivable, this wonder of the yogini.
Here Sun and Moon lose their distinction,
In her the triple world is formed.
O know this yogini, perfecter of thought and unity of the Innate.
The whole world is tormented by words
And there is no one who does without words.
But in so far as one is free from words
Does one really understand words.
The same without as within,
Firmly established at the fourteenth stage,
The bodiless form is concealed in the body.
He who knows this is therein released.
I used to recite (the text-book, which begins with the words),
'Let there be success'.
But I drank the elixir and forgot it.
There is but one word that I know now,
And of that, my friend, I know not the name.

At the moment of the embrace does he then win the great bliss,
Who does not comprehend that everything is of his own nature? He is like
a thirsty deer that runs for water which is but a mirage. It dies of thirst,
and how should be obtain the divine waters?

The five skandhas, the five material elements, the twelve sense-
fields, the six faculties of sense and their spheres, these with their various
modifications are the water. In these doha-verses which are altogether
new nothing is anywhere concealed.
 So pandits, please have patience with me,
For here there is no hesitating.
That which I have heard by the word of my master,
Why should I speak of it secretly?
That blissful delight that consists between lotus and vajra,
Who does not rejoice there?
In the triple world whose hopes does it fail to fulfill?

This moment may be the bliss of Means or of both (Wisdom and

Means),
And by the favour of their master and by merit it is known by a few.

It is profound, it is vast.
It is neither self nor other.
O know this self-experience
Of the Innate in the Fourth Moment!

Even as the moon makes light in black darkness,

So in one moment the supreme bliss removes all defilement.

When the sun of suffering has set,

Then arises this bliss, this lord of the stars.
It creates with continuous creativity,
And of this comes the mandala-circle.
See thought as thought, O fool, and leave all false views,
Gain purification in bliss supreme,
For here lies final perfection.
Question not with hesitation.
Release this elephant which is your mind,
That he may drink the river-waters
And stay on the bank at his pleasure.
Held in the trunk of the elephant that now represents the senses,
One may appear as lifeless,
But the yogin like a nimble rider slips away and goes.
As is Nirvana, so is Samsara.
Do not think there is any distinction.
 Yet it possesses no single nature,
For I know it as quite pure.
Do not sit at home, do not go to the forest,
But recognize mind wherever you are.
When one abides in complete and perfect enlightenment,
Where is Samsara and where is Nirvana?
O know this truth,
That neither at home nor in the forest does enlightenment dwell.
Be free from prevarication
In the self-nature of immaculate thought!
'This is myself and this is another.'
Be free of this bond which encompasses you about,
And your own self is thereby released.
Do not err in this matter of self and other.
Everything is Buddha without exception.
Here is that immaculate and final stage,
Where thought is pure in its true nature.
The fair tree of thought that knows no duality,
Spreads through the triple world.
It bears the flower and fruit of compassion,
And its name is service of others.
The fair tree of the Void abounds with flowers,
Acts of compassion of many kinds,
And fruit for others appearing spontaneously,
For this joy has no actual thought of another.
So the fair tree of the Void also lacks compassion,
Without shoots or flowers or foliage,
And whoever imagines them there, falls down,
For branches there are none.
The two trees spring from one seed,
And for that reason there is but one fruit.
He who thinks of them thus indistinguishable,
Is released from Nirvana and Samsara.
 If a man in need approaches and goes away hopes unfulfilled,
It is better he should abandon that house
Than take the bowl that has been thrown from the door.
Not to be helpful to others,
Not to give to those in need,
This is the fruit of Samsara.
Better than this is to renounce the idea of a self.
He who clings to the Void
And neglects Compassion,
Does not reach the highest stage.
But he who practises only Compassion
Does not gain release from toils of existence.
He, however, who is strong in practice of both,
Remains neither in Samsara nor in Nirvana.

4 - Doctrinal Formulas

An Anthology of Christian thought would have to pay special

attention to the numerous creeds in which the doctrine from time to time
found dogmatic formulation. So essential indeed is creed-making to
Christians that, as I see from my copy of Denzinger's Enchiridion, these
statements of dogma go back to the Apostles themselves. For various
reasons Buddhists never felt the need to define their doctrinal position
briefly and precisely. We had to wait 2,500 years for Mr Christmas
Humphreys, an English lawyer, to bestow his 'Twelve Points' upon us.

The Buddhists have doctrinal formulations of their own, which do

not, however, aim at terminating controversy but are designed to act as a
rallying point for meditation. The Scriptures contain a number of
stereotyped formulas which are repeated over and over again with
obvious relish. Their function is not so much to be read and listened to,
but to be learnt by heart and meditated upon. They form a kind of bony
structure within the system which gives it some firmness and consistency.
Their letter is accepted as holy writ by all Buddhist schools, though there
is some disagreement on their interpretation. It would be unreasonable to
expect their full import to be understood at the first reading, but they
cannot possibly be omitted, especially because they provide the
indispensable definitions of many terms used elsewhere. They have been
arranged under the five cardinal virtues -faith, vigour, mindfulness,
concentration, and wisdom - which, in that order, make up the spiritual
life. For reasons of space I have had to cut down on 'Mindfulness', as
experts in these things will easily perceive. By way of compensation for
this omission I have interspersed the dry formulas here and there with an
edifying sentence, on the principle that

Better than one thousand verses

Where no profit wings the word,
Is one solitary stanza
Bringing peace of mind when heard.

1. Faith

The Triple Refuge

To the Buddha for refuge I go; to the Dharma for refuge I go; to
the Samgha for refuge I go.

For the second time to the Buddha for refuge I go; for the second
time to the Dharma for refuge I go; for the second time to the Samgha
for refuge I go.

For the third time to the Buddha for refuge I go; for the third time
to the Dharma for refuge I go; for the third time to the Samgha for
refuge I go.

The Buddha
 This Lord is truly the Arhat, fully enlightened, perfect in his
knowledge and conduct, well-gone, world-knower, unsurpassed, leader of
men to be tamed, teacher of gods and men, the Buddha, the Lord.

What had to be fully known, that I have fully known;

What had to be developed, that I have developed;
What was to be forsaken, that I have forsaken.
Therefore, O Brahmin, I am the Buddha.

The Dharma

Well taught has the Lord the Dharma, it is verifiable, not a matter
of time, inviting all to come and see, leading to Nirvana, to be known by
the wise, each one for himself.

Enough, Vakkali, what is there to be seen in this putrid body of

mine? Who sees Dharma, he sees me. Who sees me, he sees Dharma.
Because it is by seeing Dharma that he sees me, it is by seeing me that
he sees Dharma.

The Dharma, incomparably profound and exquisite,

Is rarely met with, even in hundreds of thousands of millions of kalpas.
We are now permitted to see it, to listen to it, to accept and to hold it.
May we truly understand the meaning of the Tathagata's words!

The Samgha

Well-behaved is the Community of the Lord's disciples, straight in

their behaviour, upright and correct. The four pairs of men, the eight
persons - these are the Community of the Lord's disciples. Worthy they
are of offerings, worthy of hospitality, worthy of gifts, worthy of respectful
salutation, they, the world's peerless field of merit.

And for a disciple, rightly delivered, whose thought is calm, there

is nothing to be added to what has been done, and naught more remains
for him to do. Just as a rock of one solid mass remains unshaken by the
wind, even so, neither forms, nor sounds, nor smells, nor tastes, nor
contacts of any kind, neither desired nor undesired dharmas, can agitate
such a one. Steadfast is his thought, gained is deliverance.

Who understand the skandhas five,

In the good doctrine live their life,
Worthy of praises, righteous men,
These are the Buddha's genuine sons.

2. Vigour

The four right efforts

Here a disciple rouses his will, makes an effort, puts forth vigour,
makes his thoughts tense, exerts himself (I) to bring about the (future)
non-arising of evil and unwholesome dharmas, which have not (yet)
arisen, (II) to effect the forsaking of evil and unwholesome dharmas
which have arisen, (III) to effect the arising of wholesome dharmas which
have not yet arisen, and (IV) to effect the stability, the non-
disappearance, the increase, the extension, the development of the
wholesome dharmas which have arisen.

The Bodhisattva's Vow

However innumerable sentient beings are, I vow to save them.

However inexhaustible the defilements are, I vow to extinguish them.
However immeasurable the dharmas are, I vow to master them.
However incomparable enlightenment is, I vow to attain it.

3. Mindfulness

On guarding the senses

 Here someone (I), having seen a form with his eye, does not seize
on its general appearance, or the (accessory) details of it. That which
might, so long as he dwells unrestrained as to the (controlling) force of
his eyes, give occasion for covetous, sad, evil, and unwholesome
dharmas to flood him, that he sets himself to restrain; he guards the
controlling force of his eye, and brings about its restraint. And likewise
(2) when he has heard sounds with the ear, (3) smelled smells with the
nose, (4) tasted tastes with the tongue, (5) touched touchables with the
body, (6) cognized mind-objects with the mind. That is the guarding,
defence, protection and restraint of these six dominants.

4. Concentration

The four trances

Detached from sense-desires, detached also from other

unwholesome states, he dwells in the attainment of the first Dhyana,
which is accompanied by applied and discursive thinking, born of
detachment, rapturous and joyful. From the appeasing of applied and
discursive thinking, he dwells in the attainment of the second Dhyana,
where the inward heart is serene and uniquely exalted, and which is
devoid of applied and discursive thinking, born of concentration,
rapturous and joyful. Through distaste for rapture, he dwells
evenmindedly, mindful and clearly conscious; he experiences with his
body that joy of which the Aryans declare, 'Joyful lives he who is
evenminded and mindful'. It is thus that he dwells in the attainment of
the third Dhyana. From the forsaking of joy, from the forsaking of pain,
from the going to rest of his former gladness and sadness, he dwells in
the attainment of the fourth Dhyana, which is neither painful nor
pleasurable - in utter purity of evenmindedness and mindfulness.

The four formless trances

 By passing quite beyond all perceptions of form, by the going to
rest of the perceptions of impact, by not attending to the perception of
manifoldness, on thinking 'Endless Space', he dwells in the attainment of
the station of endless space. By passing quite beyond the station of
endless space, on thinking 'endless consciousness', he dwells in the
attainment of the station of unlimited consciousness. By passing quite
beyond the station of unlimited consciousness, on thinking 'There is not
anything', he dwells in the attainment of the station of nothing whatever.
By passing quite beyond the field of nothing whatever, he dwells in the
attainment of the station of neither perception nor non-perception.

The four Unlimited

Here the disciple dwells suffusing one direction of space with a

heart linked to friendliness, then a second, then a third, then a fourth,
then above, below, around, and everywhere. And so he dwells,
recognizing himself in all, suffusing the entire world with a heart linked to
friendliness, far-reaching, wide-spread, unlimited, free from enmity and
malice.

And as for friendliness, so with compassion, sympathetic joy, and

even mindedness.

Unlimited Friendliness

This is what should be done by the man who is wise, who seeks
the good, and who knows the meaning of the place of peace.

Let him be strenuous, upright, and truly straight, without conceit

of self, easily contented and joyous, free of cares; let him not be
submerged by the things of the world; let him not take upon himself the
burden of worldly goods; let his senses be controlled; let him be wise but
not puffed up, and let him not desire great possessions even for his
family. Let him do nothing that is mean or that the wise would reprove.

May all beings be happy and at their easel May they be joyous and
live in safety!

All beings, whether weak or strong - omitting none - in high,

middle, or low realms of existence, small or great, visible or invisible,
near or far away, born or to be born - may all beings be happy and at
their ease I

Let none deceive another, or despise any being in any state! Let
none by anger or ill-will wish harm to another I

Even as a mother watches over and protects her child, her only
child, so with a boundless mind should one cherish all living beings,
radiating friendliness over the entire world, above, below, and all around
without limit. So let him cultivate a boundless good will towards the entire
world, uncramped, free from ill-will or enmity.

Standing or walking, sitting or lying down, during all his waking

hours, let him establish this mindfulness of good will, which men call the
highest state!

Abandoning vain discussions, having a clear vision, free from

sense appetites, he who is made perfect will never again know rebirth.

5. Wisdom

The four Holy Truths

What then is the Holy Truth of 111? Birth is ill, decay is ill,
sickness is ill, death is ill. To be conjoined with what one dislikes means
suffering. To be disjoined from what one likes means suffering. Not to get
what one wants, also that means suffering. In short, all grasping at any
of the five Skandhas involves suffering.
 What then is the Holy Truth of the Origination of 111? It is that
craving which leads to rebirth, accompanied by delight and greed,
seeking its delight now here, now there, i.e. craving for sensuous
experience, craving to perpetuate oneself, craving for extinction.

What then is the Holy Truth of the Stopping of Ill? It is the

complete stopping of that craving, the withdrawal from it, the renouncing
of it, throwing it back, liberation from it, non-attachment to it.

What then is the Holy Truth of the steps which lead to the
stopping of Ill? It is this holy eightfold Path, which consists of right views,
right intentions, right speech, right conduct, right livelihood, right effort,
right mindfulness, right concentration.

Conditioned co-production

Conditioned by Ignorance are the Karma-formations; conditioned

by the karma-formations is Consciousness; conditioned by consciousness
is Name and Form; conditioned by name and form are the Six Sense-
fields; conditioned by the six sense-fields is Contact; conditioned by
contact are Feelings; conditioned by feelings is Craving; conditioned by
craving is Grasping; conditioned by grasping is Becoming; conditioned by
becoming is Birth; conditioned by birth are Decay and Death, sorrow,
lamentation, pain, sadness, and despair. Thus is the origination of all this
mass of suffering.

But from the utter fading out and stopping of Ignorance comes
also the stopping of the Karma-formations; from the stopping of the
karma-formations the stopping of Consciousness ; from the stopping of
consciousness that of Name and Form; from the stopping of name and
form that of the Six Sense-fields; from the stopping of the six sense-fields
that of Contact; from the stopping of contact that of Feeling; from the
stopping of feeling that of Craving; from the stopping of craving that of
Grasping; from the stopping of grasping that of Becoming; from the
stopping of becoming that of Birth; from the stopping of birth comes the
stopping of Decay and Death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and
despair. Such is the stopping of all this mass of Ill.

The view of self

What is the 'view of self? Here the untaught common man, who
does not see the holy men, is unacquainted with the holy Dharma or
misinformed about it, who does not see pious men, is unacquainted with
the Dharma of the pious or misinformed about it, regards (1) the self as
form, or (2) the self as having form, or (3) form as in the self, or (4) the
self as in form. And so with feelings, perceptions, impulses, and
consciousness in place of 'form'.

The absence of self in everything

'Form, brethren, is not the self. If this form, brethren, were the
self, it could not turn oppressive, and one could achieve one's intention,
"Let my body be thus, let my body not be thus!" It is because the body is
not the self, brethren, that it turns oppressive, and that one cannot
achieve the intention, "let my body be thus, let my body not be thus!"
And so with feelings, perceptions, impulses, and consciousness.

'Now, what do you think, brethren, is form, or any other

constituent of the "personality", permanent or impermanent?' -
'Impermanent, O Lord!'-'Does then impermanence conduce to suffering,
or to ease?' - 'To suffering, O Lord!' -'But is it fitting to consider that
which is impermanent, linked to suffering, and doomed to reversal, as
"This is mine, I am this, this is myself"?' - 'No, indeed not, O Lord!' -
'Therefore, brethren, whatever form, or other Skandha, there may be-
past, future, or present, inward or outward, gross or subtle, low or
exalted, near or far away - all that should be seen by right wisdom as it
really is, i.e. that "All this is not mine, I am not this, this is not myself".
The learned holy disciple who perceives this becomes disgusted with
form, and everything else, up to consciousness. Disgusted, he sheds his
greed for these things. His dispassion sets him free, and he then also
knows that he is liberated. "Birth is extinct, the holy life completed; what
had to be done has been done, there is nothing further to do" - so he
wisely knows.'

The illusory nature of the world

Form should be seen as a mass of foam, because easily crushed;

feeling as a water bubble, because pleasurable only for a moment;
perception as a mirage, because delusive; volitions as like the trunk of
the plantain tree, because without substance; consciousness as a mock
show, because deceptive.

An artist once a picture painted

Of such a monster that he fainted.
So endlessly worlds transmigrate
By false ideas infatuate.
As stars, a fault of vision, as a lamp,
A mock show, dew-drops, or a bubble,
A dream, a lightning flash, or cloud,
So should we view what is conditioned.

5 - Doctrinal Disputes

Although generally peaceful towards their fellow-men, the

Buddhists took great pleasure in religious controversy. In India the
rigidities of the caste system and the Brahmins' excessive claims to
superiority were favourite targets for their invective, and also rival
philosophical schools were not neglected. In this Anthology there is room
only for some of the discussions which took place within the Buddhist
community itself. That tolerant body had never had any central authority
or well-defined creed, and so there was plenty of scope for debate. I have
singled out four topics which seemed to me particularly important.

(1) The first is the Personalist Controversy. It concerns the

fundamental dogma of Buddhism, the assertion that there is no 'self.

This is the cornerstone of all Buddhist thinking. Nevertheless,

among the eighteen traditional sects of the Hinayana there was one,
called the 'Personalists', who dated back to about 500 B.C. and who,
motivated by commonsense, maintained that in addition to impersonal
events there is still a 'person' to be reckoned with. Numerically they were
not at all negligible. In the seventh century Yuan Tsang counts 60,000
Personalist monks out of a total of 200,000 in the whole of India. They
may well have been the weaker brethren, but apparently there were
many of them. They were a constant thorn in the flesh of the other sects,
and the object of ceaseless polemics on the part of the orthodox. Here I
have given an abstract of the debate as it appears in Chapter 9 of the
Abhidharmakosha, a famous fourth-century work of Vasubandhu, a
leading Sarvastivadin author. Some of the arguments used must appear
rather inconclusive - not necessarily from ineptitude. Opponents ought to
be given some latitude, and politeness may be considered as more
important than a rival's conclusive annihilation.

(2) The second piece refers to the great division between

Mahayana and Hinayana. Hinajanists generally react to the Mahayana by
silence, and their writings practically never mention it. The Mahayanists,
on the other hand, were under the charge of innovation, and so they
wrote much to justify their position. One of the holiest books of the
Mahayana is the Lotus of the Good Law, composed'at'various times during
the first Christian centuries. It has many themes. Here we consider its
discussion of the validity of the methods open to Buddhists at that time.
For reasons which will become apparent from a perusal of the 'parable of
the burning house', these methods are referred to as 'vehicles'. The
Hinajanists here go by the name of'The Disciples and Pratyekabuddhas',
and the reader is left in no doubt about the inferiority of their teachings
and the provisional nature of their attainments.
 (3) The 'Lotus' teaches that a Buddhist should aim at becoming a
'Buddha'. On this question of 'Buddhas', Mahayanists and Hinajanists also
debated the question of how many of them there can be at a given time,
Mahayana religiosity having moved away more and more from the
'historical Buddha' Shakyamuni to 'mythical' Buddhas, such as Amitabha
in the West, Akshobhya in the East, and so on. In (30) the Hinayana
position is stated by a Theravadin in the 'Milinda Questions'; in (3b) it is
stated by a Sarvastivadin, and refuted from a Mahayana point of view by
Nagarjuna (c. 100) in his commentary on 'The Perfection of Wisdom'. On
consideration, this difference seems minor and by no means
irreconcilable.

(4) This cannot be said of our final controversy which, though it

took place within the Mahayana, shows a cleavage of opinion so deep as
to exclude even mutual understanding. About A.D. 800 monks from India
and monks from China met in "Lhasa, and competed for the favour of its
rulers.

Both based their beliefs on the Sutras on 'Perfect Wisdom', but

their interpretations of these holy texts were diametrically opposed. The
Indians, headed by Kamalashila, viewed the progress to enlightenment as
a slow and gradual process, which had to traverse a large number of
precisely defined stages. It seemed to them self-evident that this should
be so, and the contrary opinion of the 'Ho-shan ('religious teacher')
Mahayana' appeared to them not only heretical but fundamentally
unintelligible. The Ho-shan was a follower of the Southern Zen school,
which about 650 had been founded by Hui-neng. They taught a 'sudden'
enlightenment, and were 'Quietists' in the sense that they regarded non-
action and no-thought as the sum total of the spiritual life. At Lhasa
neither side 'understood what the other was after, but Zen was defeated,
and the Indian form of the Mahayana has remained dominant in Tibet
until the present day. In 800 both sides 'memorialised' the king, and few
episodes of Buddhist history are better documented than this one.
Although I personally am on the side of the Indians in this dispute, I
have, with commendable self-effacement, chosen my material from the
Chinese dossier, which Prof. Demieville in his Le Concile de Lhasa (1952)
has most admirably edited, translated and explained.

1. The Personalist Controversy

Is final deliverance then possible outside this Dharma, and can it

be won on the basis of non-Buddhist doctrines? - No, it cannot, for all
other teachings are corrupted by false ideas about a 'self'. Instead of
taking it as a mere conventional term applied to a series of impersonal
processes, they believe in a self which is a substance independent of the
Skandhas. But the mere belief in such a self must of necessity generate
defilements. Those who hold it will be forced to pursue life in the
Samsaric world, and will be unable to free themselves completely from it.

The Personalist thesis, first part: But is it not true that a Buddhist
school, the Personalists, speak of a Person who is neither identical with
the Skandhas, nor different from them? And is not this Person a kind of
self? And yet, as Buddhists they should be able to win deliverance! - We
must ask ourselves whether this Person exists as a real entity, i.e. as one
of the separate elements of existence, like the elementary sight-objects,
sounds, and so on, which careful analysis reveals; or whether it has a
merely nominal existence, which denotes a combination of simple
elements, as 'milk' is a combination of sights, smells, tastes and
touchables.

The Personalist: Why should not either assumption be true? -

Vasubandbu: If the Person is a real entity with a nature of its own, it
must be different from the elementary data, just as these are different
from one another. It must then be either produced by causes, or
unconditioned. In the first case it is not eternal, as you maintain, and you
must be able to state its conditions in detail. In the second case you
adopt a clearly non-Buddhistic doctrine, and, in addition, your Person
could not do anything, and would be a rather useless hypothesis. The
Person is therefore unlikely to be a real entity. But if you regard it as a
mere designation, then your view does not differ in the least from ours. -
The Personalist: We claim that there is a Person; but we do not say that
he is an entity. Nor do we believe that he exists merely as a designation
for the Skandhas. What we say is that the word 'Person' denotes a kind of
structural unity which is found in correlation with the Skandhas of one
individual, i.e. with those elements which are actually present, internal to
him, and appropriated by him.

The Personalist thesis, second part: The Personalist also teaches

that the Person is 'ineffable', that his rektion to the elements cannot be
defined, that he is neither identical nor non-identical with them. He
distinguishes five kinds of cognizable things -the first three are the
conditioned dharmas, i.e. those past, future and present; the fourth is the
Unconditioned; and the fifth is the 'ineffable', and refers to the Person. -
But if the Person were quite ineffable, if nothing at all could be stated
about it, then one could also not say of it either that it is the fifth
category or that it is not!

The Personalist: It is perfectly true that the Person is not an object

of consciousness. - Vasubandhu: Very well, but then one can never be
aware of it; if unaware of it, one cannot cognize it; if it cannot be an
object of cognition, how can its existence ever be established? And if one
cannot do that, your system falls to pieces. - Vasubandhu then quotes a
number of canonical texts, of which I give three here: The Bimbisarasutra
says: 'The foolish ignorant common people, putting their trust in words,
imagine that there is such a thing as a self. But there is neither "I" nor
"mine". There are only dharmas, ill at ease, future, present and past.' In
the Kshudragama the Buddha says to the Brahmin Badari: 'Badari, one
who has heard the four holy truths, he can free himself from all bonds:
thought alone defiles, thought alone purifies. The self has, in fact, not the
nature of a self. To think that there is a self is a perverted view. There is
nowhere here a living being, there is no self; dharmas alone together with
their causes do exist.

No person can be found in all the Skandhas when examined. And,

having seen that a person is inwardly empty, you must also see the
outside world as empty. Even those who meditate on emptiness cannot
be said to exist.' And another Sutra says: 'Five calamities result from a
belief in a self: wrong opinions about the actual status of a self, an
individual, a soul; non-distinction from non-Buddhists; one goes astray on
a wrong road; thought does not leap forward into emptiness, finds no
serenity in it, does not abide in it, does not resolve upon it; one will never
be sufficiently purified to win the qualities of a saint.'

The Personalist: These texts have no authority for us. They do not
form part of our Scriptures. - Vasubandhu: What then is the authority
behind your system - your sect or the word of the Buddha? How can you
claim the Buddha as your Teacher, how can you be Shakyamuni's sons, if
you do not accept all the Buddha's words as binding on you? - The
Personalist: The texts you have just quoted are not the Buddha's own
words, and they are not in the Scriptures of our school. -Vasubandhu:
That is not very convincing. For all the other schools accept these texts,
and they are not in conflict either with other Sutras, or with the Dharma.
This is therefore sheer effrontery on your part. And how then,
incidentally, do you explain the Sutra which says: 'To mistake for a self
that which is not a self, that is a perverted notion, a perverted idea, a
perverted opinion.' - The Personalist: The Sutra only says that it is a
perversion to mistake a not-self for a self; but it does not say that it is a
perversion to recognize a self as a self. And also: According to your
doctrines the Lord could not possibly be omniscient. You say that all
thoughts and mental activities change incessantly, and that each mental
act lasts only for one moment. How then can it know all the dharmas?
Only an abiding Person can be omniscient. - Vasubandhu: May I point out
that then your Person would be eternal, and that contradicts your
statements that we cannot say whether he is eternal or not. And this is
how we account for the Buddha's omniscience: For us the word 'Buddha'
is a term denoting a series of momentary events. We do not believe that
in one single moment he just knows all the dharmas simultaneously. The
unique feature of his series of momentary mental actions lies in the fact
that, by the mere act of turning his mind on anything, there arises
immediately a correct and unperverted knowledge of any object
whatever, if there should be at the same time the desire to know it. That
is the sense in which we speak of 'omniscience'.

The Personalist: Why then, if the word 'person' means nothing but
the five Skandhas which form the range of grasping, did the Lord teach
the 'Burden Sutra', which says: 'I will teach you the burden, its taking up,
its laying down, and the bearer of the burden. The five Skandhas, which
are the range of grasping, are the burden. Craving takes up the burden.
The renunciation of craving lays it down. The bearer of the burden is the
person: this venerable man, with such and such a name, born so and so,
of such and such a clan, who sustains himself on this or that food,
experiences these pleasures and pains, lives for just so long, stays here
for just so long, terminates his life-span in just this way.' For, if 'person'
were only another name for the Skandhas, if 'person' and Skandhas were
actually identical, then the burden would carry itself, and that is absurd. -
Vasubandhu: You have misunderstood the message of this Sutra. The
Lord speaks of a 'person' here only in order to conform to the usage of
the world. In fact this so-called 'personality' is nothing but a series of
consecutive impersonal momentary events, all of them linked to
suffering. But the processes which have taken place in the past cause
suffering in those which succeed them. The preceding Skandhas are
therefore called the 'burden', the subsequent ones its 'bearer'.

The Personalist: Moreover, another Sutra says: 'One person, when

he arises, when he is born in the world, is born for the weal of the many.
Who is that one person? It is the Tathagata.' - Vasubandhu: Here again
the Lord just conforms to the usage of the world. For that reason he
treats here as a unit that which is in fact a complex; it is quite usual for
people to speak of a 'word', although it is in fact a compound of syllables,
or of a heap of rice, although it obviously comprises a multiplicity of
grains. In addition, this Sutra says of the person that 'he arises', and
that, contrary to your teaching, makes him into something conditioned. -
The Personalist: The term 'arises' has one meaning when applied to the
dharmas, another when applied to the Person. A dharma is said to 'arise'
because it exists now after not having existed before. A person, however,
is said to 'arise', or to 'be born' when, on rebirth in a certain form, he
takes up, or acquires, certain constituents, which make him into 'this
man', 'this animal', 'this ghost', and so on. It is quite usual to say of a
man who has acquired a knowledge of grammar that 'a grammarian is
born', or 'a grammarian has arisen', but that does not mean that he has
come from nothing. The person 'arises' in the sense that he acquires at a
certain time a certain series of attributes, in the above quotation those of
a Buddha. - Vasubandhu: This explanation has been expressly
condemned by the Lord. For He has said: 'There is action, and there is
the retribution of action. But apart from the causally linked sequence of
impersonal dharmas there is no one who acts, there is no one who gives
up one set of Skandhas, and takes up others instead." In consequence
there is no person who gives up his Skandhas at death and takes up
others at rebirth.

The Personalist: Nevertheless, the Person is real, for it has been

said: 'To say that the self does not exist, in truth and in reality, is a
wrong view.' - Vasubandhu: This is no proof, for it has also been said that
to affirm the existence of a self is a wrong view. We Abhidharmists
believe that both the general affirmation and the general negation of a
self are extremist views, in accordance with the well-known saying of the
Vatsagotra-sutra: 'Those, Ananda, who affirm a self fall into the extreme
of the belief in its eternal continuation; those who deny it fall into the
extreme of the belief in its eventual annihilation.'

The Personalist; If the Person does not exist, who then is it that
wanders about in Samsara? It is difficult to see how the Samsara itself
can wander about. - Vasubandhu: The correct explanation is, however,
quite simple: When a flame burns a piece of wood, one says that it
wanders along it; nevertheless there is nothing but a series of flame-
moments. Likewise there is a continuous series of processes which
incessantly renews itself, and which is falsely called a living being.
Impelled by craving, this series is said to 'wander' in Samsara.

The Personalist: If the momentary processes alone exist, how can

you explain these words of the Lord, when he said, on recalling one of his
former lives: 'This sage Sunetra, who existed in the past, that Sunetra
was I.' All the psycho-physical elements have changed, and it can
therefore only be the 'person' that makes the Buddha and Sunetra
identical. -Vasubandhu: What in fact is it that the Lord thinks of when he
speaks here of I? If, as you say, he means the 'person', then the past 'I'
is identical with the present I, and your 'person' will be permanent, as
against your intentions. For us, however, the Lord only meant to say that
his actually present dharmas are parts of the same continuous series of
dharmas as those of Sunetra. As one says: 'This fire has burned its way
to here.' - In any case, you assert the existence of a real self, which is of
a nature so subtle and elusive, that the Tathagatas alone can see it. In
that case, the Buddhas would become believers in I and 'mine', with all its
pernicious consequences for the spiritual life. They will form an
attachment to that part of the universe which they come to consider as
their own, and in that way they will be far removed from deliverance! -
The Personalist: It is only when, as is the habit of non-Buddhists,
something which is not the true Self is mistaken for the true Self, that
one will feel affection for that pretended self. If, however, one sees, as
the Buddhas do, the Ineffable Person as the true self, then, because that
actually is the true self, no affection for it is thereby engendered.

2. Mahayana Polemics Against The Hinayana

The Lord thereupon emerged mindful and self-possessed from his

trance, and he addressed the Venerable Sariputra as follows: 'Profound,
hard to see, hard to understand is the Buddha-cognition to which the
Tathagatas have awoken. All Disciples and Pratyekabuddhas must find it
hard to discern. And why? Because the Tathagatas in the course of their
career have honoured countless Buddhas, and from innumerable Buddhas
have they learned how to course towards the supreme enlightenment.
They have arrived from afar, they have shown immense vigour, they are
endowed with wonderful and astonishing dharmas, with dharmas that are
hard to discern, and they also enjoin dharmas which are hard to discern.
 'Hard to discern, Sariputra, is the hidden teaching of the
Tathagatas. And why? Because they reveal dharmas and their causes by
employing various skilful means, based on their cognition and vision.
They show up causes, adduce reasons, give explanations, point to
objective facts, define their terms, and use various concepts. These are
the kind of skilful means which they employ to release beings who have
got stuck here or there. The Tathagatas have reached the highest
perfection in vision, cognition, and skill in means. They are endowed with
such wonderful dharmas as the unfettered and unobstructed cognition
and vision, the ten Powers, the four Grounds of Self-confidence, the
eighteen special Buddhadharmas, and they possess all the cardinal
virtues, even to the highest degree, all the limbs of enlightenment, the
trances, the deliverances, the concentrations and Transic attainments.
And manifold are the dharmas which they reveal. Greatly wonderful, truly
astonishing are the Tathagatas. Enough, Sariputra let us be content with
saying that the Tathagatas are supremely wonderful! And a Tathagata will
naturally demonstrate a Tathagata's dharmas, those dharmas which a
Tathagata cognizes. In fact, a Tathagata will demonstrate all dharmas, for
he cognizes them all. What these dharmas are, how they are, of what
kind they are, what mark they have, what own-being they have - all that
the Tathagata alone sees before his own eyes and it is manifest to him.'

Thereupon it occurred to the great Disciples in that assembly, to

Ajnatakaundinya and the others, to the 1,200 Arhats who were freed
from the outflows and in full control of themselves, and to the others who
belonged to the vehicle of the Disciples, whether they were monks, nuns,
laymen, or laywomen, and also to those who had set out in the vehicle of
the Pratyekabuddhas: 'What may be the cause, what the reason, why the
Lord so excessively extols the skill in means of the Tathagatas? Why
should he tell us that the dharma to which he has awoken is profound,
and that for all Disciples and Pratyekabuddhas it is hard to discern? So far
the Lord has proclaimed only one kind of emancipation. Should we then
also acquire the Buddhadharmas, even after we have won Nirvana? We
just do not understand the meaning of what the Lord has said.'
 The Venerable Sariputra, reading the mind of the assembly, knew
of the doubts and uncertainties present in it; he himself also had become
perplexed about the Dharma, and so he said to the Lord: 'What, O Lord,
is the cause, what the reason why the Lord repeatedly so greatly extols
the demonstration of Dharma by the Tathagatas, their vision, cognition,
and skill in means? Why does he say so emphatically that "this Dharma
which I have known is very profound", that "my hidden teaching is hard
to discern"? Never before have I heard such a discourse on Dharma from
the Lord. Many in this assembly have their doubts and uncertainties. It
were good if the Lord were to explain what the Tathagata has in mind
when he so emphatically extols the profundity of the Tathagata's
Dharma.' Three times the Venerable Sariputra asked the Lord. Then the
Lord replied: 'Listen well, Sariputra, and be attentive I I will explain it to
you!'

Scarcely had the Lord spoken when in that assembly five thousand
conceited monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen rose from their seats,
saluted the Lord's feet with their heads, and left the assembly. It was the
bad trait of conceit which made them believe that they had already
attained what in fact they had not yet attained, that they had already
achieved what in fact they had not yet achieved. At heart, however, they
knew their shortcomings, and so they decided to leave the assembly. And
the Lord said to the Venerable Sariputra: 'My congregation is now free of
chaff. Freed from the rotten wood, its core now stands firmly established
in unwavering faith. It is good Sariputra, that those conceited people
have left. Now I will explain my meaning.' 'Well said, O Lord,' said the
Venerable Sariputra, and listened to the Lord in silence.

'Hear from me, son of Sari, how this Dharma has been fully known
by the best of men, and how the enlightened leaders teach it through
many hundreds of skilful means. Of innumerable living beings, so varied
in their inclinations, I know the dispositions and conduct, for I have a
knowledge of the various deeds they have done in the past, and of the
merit they then acquired. With manifold explanations and reasonings I
cause these beings to reach a greater spirituality; with hundreds of
arguments and illustrations I gratify all beings, some in this way, some in
that. At one time I have taught them the nine-fold Scripture, which is
composed of the "Sutras", the "Verses", the section called "Thus was it
said", the "Birth-stories", the "Marvels", the "Origins", the sections
consisting of mingled prose and verse, the "Expositions", and hundreds of
Similes in addition. Therein I exhibit Nirvana to those kinds of people who
are content with inferior things, who are relatively ignorant, who have not
for very long practised under the Buddhas of the past, and who have got
stuck in the Samsaric world and suffer greatly from it. This is really only a
skilful device by which the Self-Existent wishes to prepare them for the
day when he can awake them to the cognition of a Buddha. But
nevertheless, in these Scriptures he never tells them directly that they
also ought to become Buddhas in this world. And why did he not do so?
Because the Saviour speaks only after he has paid attention to the proper
time for doing so, and when he has perceived that the right moment has
come. To-day for some reason the moment has arrived when I can teach
the real final truth. The nine-fold Scripture adjusted the teachings to
those who are none too strong; I revealed them as a device by which I
hoped to lead people on to the cognition of a Boon-giver, of a fully
enlightened Buddha.

'But there are now here before me sons of the Buddha, who are
pure in all ways, wise, virtuous, and gentle, and who have done their
duties under many millions of Buddhas. To them I now teach Sutras more
advanced than the nine-fold Scripture. For they have become so perfect
in their resolution and so pure in their whole being that I can announce to
them that in a future period they shall become Buddhas, for the benefit
and out of compassion for the world. On hearing that they shall become
Buddhas who will work the weal of the world they are filled with radiant
joy. When I perceive their reaction to my announcement, I am further
encouraged in revealing to them new, more advanced, Sutras. Those are
the true disciples of the Great Leaders who have learnt this highest
Scripture of mine. One single stanza of it, learnt and borne in mind,
suffices to lead them all to enlightenment. That permits of no doubt.

'There is only one single vehicle. A second does not exist, and
there is no third anywhere in the world. It is only through a device of the
Supreme Persons that a multiplicity of vehicles has been exhibited. It is
for the purpose of revealing the cognition of a Buddha that the Saviour of
the World has arisen in the world. This is his one and only task, and he
has no other. The Buddhas never guide anyone to an inferior vehicle.
Wherein the Self-Existent himself is established, in that very position he
also establishes other beings - so that they may cognize that which he
cognized, and just as he cognized it, so that they may have his powers,
his trances, his deliverances, and his faculties. I would be guilty of the
vice of niggardliness if, after winning the spotless supreme
enlightenment, I established even one single being in an inferior vehicle.
That would not be the proper thing for me to do. No niggardliness
whatsoever can be found in me, no envy either, and the urge of greed
has ceased in me. All evil dharmas have in me been cut out. Therefore I
am a Buddha, and I have comprehended the world. When I illuminate this
entire world with the splendour of my thirty-two Marks, attended by
many hundreds of living beings, then I show, by what I am, the true
stamp of the own-being of dharmas. And, Sariputra, I think to myself,
"How can all beings be made to become bearers of the thirty-two Marks,
self-luminous, knowers of the world, self-existent?" And as I look around,
and reflect about this intention of mine, then, after my vow has been
accomplished and I have won enlightenment, I nevertheless do not
proclaim the supreme enlightenment as the aim others should strive for.
Because, if I would urge beings to strive for supreme enlightenment, they
would all in their ignorance become quite perplexed about my advice, and
they would never grasp what I had said, however well said it might be. I
must always consider what kind of people I know them to be: they have
not practised for long in their past lives, they are perpetually bent on
sense-pleasures and attached to sense-objects, and their minds are full of
craving and stupefied by delusion. As a result of their sensuous
enjoyments they tumble into the States of woe; in all the six States of
existence they are perpetually harassed; again and again they augment
the cemeteries; they are oppressed by ill, and their merit is but small.

They are invariably entangled in the thickets of false views, and

believe of something that "it is" or "is not", that "it is so" or that "it is not
so". Relying on the sixty-two Heretical Views, they accept falsehood as
true reality, and persist in their convictions. They are nearly incorrigible,
conceited, deceitful, crooked, dishonest, badly informed, and foolish.
Even in the course of countless births they could never hear and
appreciate the call to Buddhahood. To them, Sariputra, I say by way of a
skilful device, "Make an end of ill 1" It was because I saw beings
oppressed by ill, that I held out Nirvana to them, the state where ill has
ceased.

'But now I teach you the real truth which is that all these dharmas
have been quite calm from the very beginning, that they are at peace at
all times I And the son of the Buddha who completes his practice, in a
future period he shall become a Jina! It is only my skill in means which
made me exhibit three vehicles. In fact, there is only one single vehicle,
only one single method, and there is only one single instruction by the
Leaders. Leave all doubts and uncertainties behind! And if any of you
should still feel doubts, remember that the Guides of the World unfailingly
speak the truth: There is only one single vehicle, and a second there is
not.'

The Buddha now predicts Sariputra's future Buddhahood (see

Buddhist Texts, 122). The Venerable Sariputra then says:

'Free from doubt I am now, O Lord, free from perplexity, now that
I have heard from the Lord himself that I also am destined for the
supreme enlightenment of a Buddha. But there are these 2,000 self-
controlled disciples, whom the Lord has in days gone by placed on the
stage of those who are in training, and they were then instructed and
admonished that "this My Dharma and Discipline terminates in the
meeting with a Nirvana which has utterly transcended all birth, ageing,
sickness and death". And all these two thousand monks, whether they are
still in training or whether they are already adepts, are the Lord's
disciples, who have all of them abandoned all kinds of false views, have
abandoned the view of a self, the view of becoming, the view which looks
forward to the cessation of becoming. They had formed the idea that they
themselves had stood on the level of Nirvana. Now they have heard from
the Lord this new Dharma, which they had not heard before, and in
consequence they have been assailed by doubts. Do, O Lord, please
speak to these monks, so as to dispel their regrets about having
misunderstood you. In that way these four classes of the assembly will
become free from hesitations, free from doubts.'

The Lord replied to the Venerable Sariputra: 'Have I not explained

to you before, Sariputra, that the Tathagata demonstrates Dharma in
such a way that he first notes the capacities and intentions of beings, who
differ so greatly in their dispositions and inclinations. Then he employs,
by way of his skill in means, various methods for demonstrating his
meaning, and uses many arguments, reasons, definitions, and
explanations. But it is precisely the supreme enlightenment that all his
demonstrations of Dharma are concerned with, and he instigates all
people to use the vehicle of the Bodhisattvas. It will be best for me to tell
you a parable, so that this matter might become clearer. For comparisons
often help discerning people to understand the meaning of what is being
taught.

In some village, city, market town, country district, province,

kingdom, or capital there lived a householder, old, advanced in years,
decrepit, weak in health and strength, but rich, wealthy, and well-to-do.
His house was a large one, both extensive and high, and it was old,
having been built a long time ago. It was inhabited by many living beings,
some two, three, four, or five hundred. It had one single door only. It was
thatched with straw, its terraces had fallen down, its foundations were
rotten, its walls, matting-screens, and plaster were in an advanced state
of decay. Suddenly a great blaze of fire broke out, and the house started
burning on all sides. And that man had many young sons, five, or ten, or
twenty, and he himself got out of the house.

'When that man saw his own house ablaze all around with that
great mass of fire, he became afraid and trembled, his mind became
agitated, and he thought to himself: "I, it is true, have been competent
enough to run out of the door, and to escape from my burning house,
quickly and safely, without being touched or scorched by that great mass
of fire. But what about my sons, my young boys, my little sons? There, in
this burning house, they play, sport, and amuse themselves with all sorts
of games. They do not know that this dwelling is afire, they do not
understand it, do not perceive it, pay no attention to it, and so they feel
no agitation. Though threatened by this great mass of are, though in such
close contact with so much ill, they pay no attention to their danger, and
make no efforts to get out."

'And this man, being strong, with powerful arms, further thinks to
himself: "With my strong arms I can easily carry all these little sons of
mine in one bunch against my chest out of that house." But then he had
second thoughts: "This house has only one single door, and that is a
narrow one; these boys, thoughtless, fickle, and childlike as they are, are
sure to flutter about all over the place, and that way they may well come
to misfortune and disaster in this great mass of fire." So he decided to
warn them, and called out: "Come here, my boys, come out of the house!
It is burning fiercely. If you do not come soon, you will all be burned in
that great mass of fire, and come to misfortune and disaster!" But the
young boys paid no heed to the words of that man who had only their
welfare at heart. They did not become agitated, frightened, alarmed, or
terrified; they did not think about their lot, they did not try to run out.
They could not even appreciate or understand what the word "burning"
meant. Instead, they just ran here and there, and in their foolishness
repeatedly looked out at their father.

'Then this man thinks again: "This house is all ablaze, the great
mass of fire is burning it down. How can I prevent further disaster for
myself and my boys? Perhaps with my skill in means I can drive these
boys out of the house." And that man knows the dispositions of his boys,
and is aware of their interests. Now these boys have many toys to play
with -beautiful, attractive, lovely, pleasing, delightful, and costly toys.
And, knowing the disposition of his boys, the man said to them: "Listen,
my boys! Think of your beautiful and wonderful toys, without which you
would be very unhappy I Think of all the various things you have got,
your bullock-carts, goat-carts, and deer-carts, which you love so much,
which are so dear, pleasing, and precious to you 1 All of them I have put
outside the door of the house, so that you can play with them. Come
here, run out of the house! To each one of you I will give whatever he
wants and asks for. Come out quickly, run out so that you can get them!"
Thereupon those boys, when they heard their father speak of those
attractive, lovely, pleasing, and delightful playthings which they delighted
in, and which were what they wished for and fancied, quickly ran out of
that burning house with a determined effort and in one great rush, and
they pushed each other out of the way and showed little consideration for
one another, because each one wanted to get there first.

'When that man saw that his boys had escaped, and were safe and
sound, and knew that there was nothing to fear for them any more, he
took a walk to the village square, and sat down there, jubilant and
rejoicing, freed from his sorrows, worries, and fears. But the boys ran up
to their father, and said: "Daddy, give us those various beautiful things to
play with, those bullock-carts, goat-carts, and deer-carts!" Thereupon,
Sariputra, that man gives to all his sons, in his love for his own children,
the very finest of all carts, that is to say, ox-carts, swift as the wind, built
of the most precious substances, with railings all round, hung with a net-
work of small bells, lofty and high, adorned with rare and wonderful
gems, embellished with jewel wreaths, decorated with garlands of
flowers, carpeted with cotton mattresses and woollen coverlets spread
over with fine cloth, both sides padded with red pillows, yoked to white
oxen, snow-white and fleet of foot, which were driven along by a
multitude of servants. To all his boys he gives ox-carts with fluttering
banners, swift as the wind, all of the same kind, all of the same sort. And
why? Because that man is wealthy and very rich, with an abundance of
gold, silver, and treasures stored away, and he would not think it right to
give second-rate carts to these boys. "For they all are my own sons, they
are all dear and precious to me. And since I own all these fine carts, I
should treat all the boys equally, and not prefer one to the other. I have
so great wealth and such vast possessions that I could well give such fine
carts to all beings, how much more so to my own sons!"

'Meanwhile the boys, amazed and astonished, have climbed on

their fine carts. What do you think, Sariputra; could one say of that man
that he spoke falsely when he first held out three kinds of carts to these
boys, and later on gave all of them the finest kind of vehicle only, the
most magnificent kind of vehicle?'

Sariputra replied: 'Not so, O Lord! Not so, O Well-Gone! That man
cannot be charged with speaking falsely, since it was only a skilful device
by which he managed to get his sons out of that burning building, and to
present them with life. And it was only because their own bodies were
first rescued that they could later on receive all those toys to play with.
Even if the man had not given any carts at all to the boys, even then, O
Lord, he could not be charged with falsehood. It was because he had
merely considered how to save the boys by some skilful device from that
great mass of fire that he was not guilty of falsehood. And in addition he
has drawn on his abundant wealth and possessions, and in his fondness
for his sons and in celebration of their release he has given them all
vehicles of one kind, that is to say, the finest kind of vehicles. That man,
O Lord, is certainly not guilty of falsehood!'

The Lord thereupon said to the Venerable Sariputra: 'Well said,

Sariputra, well said, so it is, Sariputra, so it is as you say I And this is the
meaning of the parable I have just told you: The Tathagata has himself
escaped from all dangers, he is entirely and in all ways set free from all
that smothers other people, from the darkening and obscuring membrane
of ignorance which blinds others, and from all misfortunes, perturbations,
calamities, pain, and sadness. The Tathagata is endowed with gnosis,
with the ten Powers, the four Grounds of self-confidence, and the
eighteen Special dharmas of a Buddha. As a result of his miraculous
powers he is the world's exceedingly powerful father, great in his skill in
means, and he has reached the greatest possible perfection in his
cognition and vision; he is greatly compassionate, and his mind never
wearies of bestowing benefits, so great is his pity. He appears in the
Triple world, which is like a generally decayed old house with an old
thatched roof, and aflame with the fire of a vast mass of physical and
mental suffering.

His purpose is to set free from greed, hate, and delusion the
beings in the world who are blinded by the darkening and obscuring
membrane of ignorance, and who are smothered by birth, old age,
sickness, death, grief, lamentation, pain, sadness, and despair; and
furthermore it is his purpose to rouse them to the highest enlightenment.
When he has appeared in the world, he sees beings inflamed by the fire
of birth, and so on, and cooked, scorched, and tormented by it; and he
sees how they have to endure many kinds of suffering, from their efforts
to acquire property as well as from the promptings of their sensuous
desires. As a result of what they have sought and acquired in this life
they experience manifold ills in a future life - in the hells, in the animal
world, in the world of Yama; they suffer such ills as poverty among gods
and men, association with undesirable things, deprivation of what they
wish for. And yet, in spite of the fact that they revolve in this mass of ill,
they play, sport, and amuse themselves, they are not frightened,
alarmed, or terrified, they do not understand their situation, they do not
think about it, they are not agitated, they do not try to escape, but are
quite contented with this Triple world, which is like a house on fire, and
they run about in it here and there. Although hemmed in on all sides by
this vast mass of ill they do not pay any attention to the fact of ill.

'Seeing all this, the Tathagata thinks to himself: "I am indeed the
father of these beings. It is I who must set them free from this vast mass
of ills, it is I who must give to them the infinite and inconceivable
happiness of the Buddha-cognition, which shall be their play, sport and
amusement." And he further reflects that "If I, strong in cognition and
magical power, but without skill in means, should promise to these beings
the cognition and vision of a Tathagata, his ten Powers and his four
Grounds of self-confidence, they will never set out for the sake of these
dharmas. For they are bent on the five kinds of sense-objects, they are
not yet freed of their fondness for the Triple world, and they will continue
to be burned, boiled, scorched, and tormented by the fires of birth, and
so on. Before they have run out of the Triple world, which is like a badly
decayed house all in flames, they cannot possibly understand what this
Buddha-cognition means."

As that man in the parable, without using the strength of his arms,
induces by his skill in means these boys to get out of the burning house,
and thereafter gives them the finest, gives them truly magnificent
vehicles; just so the Tathagata, without using a Tathagata's Grounds of
self-confidence, Powers and cognition, employs his skill in means coupled
with deep insight to drive beings out of the Triple world, which is like a
burning house, and he holds out three vehicles to them, i.e. the vehicle of
the Disciples, the vehicle of the Pratyekabuddhas, and the vehicle of the
Bodhisattvas. And with the help of these three vehicles he entices beings
away from the world, and he says to them: "Do not, Venerable Sirs! be
satisfied in this Triple world, which is like a house on fire, with those
ignoble, low and contemptible sight-objects, sounds, smells, tastes and
contacts! For as long as you delight in this Triple world, for so long you
burn with the thirst which accompanies the five sense-objects, you are
scorched and tormented by it. Flee from this Triple world, reach out for
the three vehicles, i.e. the vehicle of the Disciples, the vehicle of the
Pratyekabuddhas, the vehicle of the Bodhisattvas. I give you my word on
this point, I shall give you these three vehicles; climb on them so that
you may escape from the Triple world 1" And so as to entice them
further, he adds: "These vehicles, my friends, are noble, lauded by noble
men, and very lovely: play, sport and amuse yourselves with them,
Venerable Sirs! and that will be a high-class form of amusement for you I
You will then experience the great delight of the cardinal virtues, the
powers, the limbs of enlightenment, the trances, emancipations and
Transic attainments, and you shall find much happiness and joy!"

'And the more intelligent people have faith in the words of the
Tathagata, who is the world's father. In their faith they apply themselves
to the Tathagata's religion, and make efforts to carry out his advice.
Some of them prefer to hearken (srava) to the authoritative voice of a
teacher, and by a thorough understanding of the four holy Truths, hope
to win final Nirvana for themselves. They are the ones who escape from
the Triple world in the expectation of the vehicle of the Disciples
(sravaka), and they correspond to the boys who ran out of the burning
building in the hope of getting the smallest of all carts, those drawn by
deer. Others again prefer to strive for a cognition which brings self-
discipline and calm, owes nothing to a teacher, and by a thorough
understanding of causes and conditions (pratyaya) they hope to win final
Nirvana for themselves. They are the ones who escape from the Triple
world in the expectation of the vehicle of the Pratyekabuddhas, and they
correspond to the boys who longed for the medium kind of carts, those
drawn by goats. Others again prefer to strive for the cognition of the all-
knowing, the cognition of a Buddha, the cognition of the Self-Existent, a
cognition which also dispenses with a teacher, and by a thorough
understanding of a Tathagata's cognition, Powers and Grounds of self-
confidence they hope to win final Nirvana for all beings -for the sake of
the many, for their welfare and happiness, out of pity for the world, for
the weal, welfare and happiness of a great mass of people, be they gods
or men. They are those who escape from the Triple world in the
expectation of the great vehicle, and for that reason they are called
"Bodhisattvas, great beings". And they correspond to the boys who
longed for the finest carts, for bullock-carts.

'Just as, Sariputra, that man, when he saw that his sons had
escaped from the burning house, when he knew that they were safe and
sound, that they were set free and that there was nothing to fear for
them any more, and when he considered his own great wealth, gave
them all just one kind of vehicle, the best kind; just so, Sariputra, the
Tathagata sees many millions of beings set free from the Triple world,
freed from pain, fear, terror, and calamities. It is because they escaped
by the door provided by the Tathagata's religion that they were freed
from all pain, danger, calamity, and vexation, and that they have won the
happiness of a Nirvana, which is, however, only provisional. In addition
the Tathagata thinks of his vast and abundant store of cognitions,
Powers, and Grounds of self-confidence, and he recollects that all these
beings are his own sons, and so further leads them on to final Nirvana by
the Buddha-vehicle. But he does not urge anyone to win a private Nirvana
just for himself; on the contrary, he leads all those beings to a final
Nirvana which is all-embracing, which is the Tathagata's own Nirvana.
And, Sariputra, to all the beings who have been set free from the Triple
world the Tathagata gives lovely toys of the same kind, he gives them the
trances, emancipations and Transic attainments to play with, which are
noble and conducive to the highest happiness. And, Sariputra, just as that
man told no falsehood when, after holding out three kinds of vehicles, he
gave all his boys just one kind of vehicle, a great vehicle, built of the
most precious substances, adorned with all kinds of ornaments, just the
best and finest vehicle of all - just so the Tathagata also has spoken no
falsehood when, after first, in his skill in means, holding out the three
kinds of vehicles, afterwards he leads beings to final Nirvana by the great
vehicle alone. For the Tathagata, endowed with an abundant store of
cognitions, Powers and Grounds of self-confidence, has the capacity to
exhibit to all beings the Dharma which is connected with the cognition of
the all-knowing. It is in this manner that we should understand how the
Tathagata, with his consummate skill in means, demonstrates one vehicle
only, i.e. the great vehicle.'

3. Can There Be More Than One Buddha At A Time?

30. The Hinayana position

King Milinda said: 'The Lord, Nagasena, has said: "That is

impossible, O monks, that cannot be, that in one single world system two
fully enlightened Buddhas should simultaneously appear-that is quite
impossible." But, Nagasena, all the Tathagatas always teach the same
thirty-seven dharmas which act as Wings to enlightenment, they explain
the same four holy Truths, they train in the same three kinds of training
(in morality, trance, and wisdom), and they all admonish us to practise
vigilance. If all Tathagatas have one and the same teaching, doctrine,
training and instruction, for what reason should two Tathagatas not
appear at the same moment? The appearance of even one Buddha
already lights up this world. If there were still a second one, the
splendour emanating from the two would light up the world still more.
And also two Tathagatas could instruct with much more ease, could
admonish with much more ease! Tell me therefore the reason for this
saying of the Lord, so that my doubts may be dispelled!'

'This world system of ten thousand worlds can bear just one single
Buddha, can bear the virtue of just one single Tathagata. If a second
Buddha were to arise, this world system of ten thousand worlds could not
bear him. It would shake and tremble, bend, twist, and disintegrate, be
shattered, ruined, and destroyed. It is just as with a boat which can carry
one man only. When one man has got into it, it remains steady above the
water. But if a second man should come along, as large and weighty as
the first one, and also get into it, would then that boat be able to carry
both of them?' - 'Certainly not. But it would shake and tremble, bend,
twist, and disintegrate, be shattered, ruined, and destroyed, and it would
sink down into the water.' - 'Just the same would happen with this world
system if a second Tathagata were to appear. There are three further
reasons why it would be unsuitable for two fully enlightened Buddhas to
appear at the same moment: (i) For if they did, disputes might arise
between their respective followers, and arguments about "our Buddha"
and "your Buddha" would lead to the formation of two rival factions, just
as it happens with the followers of two powerful ministers. (2) Moreover,
the simultaneous appearance of two fully enlightened Buddhas would
falsify the well-known Scripture passage which describes the Buddha as
the foremost, supreme, the best, the most eminent, the utmost, the most
excellent, unequalled, without an equal, matchless, without a counterpart
or rival. (3) And finally, this is a natural attribute of Buddhas that only
one Buddha at a time appears in the world. For what reason? Because of
the greatness of the qualities of the all-knowing Buddhas. Of other things
also which are great in the world, there is in each case one only to be
found. There is one great earth only, one great ocean, one great world-
mountain Sumeru, one great space, one great Shakra, one great Mara,
one great Mahabrahma. A Tathagata, Arhat, fully enlightened Buddha is
great, and so there is only one in the world. Wherever any of these arise,
there is no room for a second. And so also with the Tathagata.' - And king
Milinda replied: 'Well said, Nagasena. So it is, and so I accept it.'

3b. The Mahayana position

The Sarvastivadin: The Buddha has said: 'Two Buddhas cannot

simultaneously arise in one and the same world system, no more than
two universal monarchs can co-exist at the same time'. It is therefore
untrue to say that at present there are other Buddhas apart from
Shakyamuni.

The Mahayanist: These are certainly the Buddha's words, but you
do not understand their meaning. The Buddha wants to say that two
Buddhas cannot appear simultaneously in one and the same great Tri-
chiliocosm. But he does not exclude this possibility for the whole universe
extending in all the ten directions. Two universal monarchs cannot appear
together in the same Four-Continent world system, because each would
brook no rival. And so in one Four-Continent world system there is only
one single universal monarch. Just so with a Buddha and a great Tri-
chiliocosm. The Sutra here draws an analogy between Buddhas and
universal monarchs. If you believe, as you do, that in other Four-
Continent world systems there are other universal monarchs, why do you
not believe in the existence of other Buddhas in other great Tri-
chiliocosms?

Moreover, one Buddha alone cannot possibly save all beings.

There must therefore also be others. In fact, beings are countless and
their sufferings are measureless. Countless Buddhas are therefore
necessary to lead them to salvation.

The Sarvastivadin: The Sutra says that Buddhas appear as rarely

as a flower on the Udumbara tree, one only from age to age, with
immense intervals between. If the ten directions were full of Buddhas,
then the occurrence of a Buddha would not be a rare event, one could
find one easily, and could not say that Buddhas are exceedingly difficult
to meet.

The Mahayanist: It is true that in one great Tri-chiliocosm the

Buddhas follow each other in great intervals. But there is nothing here
about the whole universe. The Buddhas are so difficult to meet because
imperfect people do not know how to honour them and are lax in
searching for the Path. Many of them in addition fall into the States of
woe as a result of their evil deeds, and there, for aeons on end, they
never see a Buddha, or hear one mentioned. It is because of the
imperfection of men's hearts that the appearance of Buddhas is said to be
rare.

The Sarvastivadin: If there actually were in the ten directions

countless Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, why do they not come and save
beings from sin and suffering?

The Mahayanist: For countless aeons these beings have heaped up

sins and faults. It may be that they have also gained some merit, but that
is often not sufficient for them to see a Buddha. That is why they cannot
see them. As it has been said in these verses:

When the reward of merit is still far away,

When the after-effects of the sins are still felt,
One cannot possibly see before one's eyes,
The Lord, The Buddha, how ever great his might.
The minds of the Buddhas, the Lords do not vary
In their fixed intention to save all the beings.
For all they feel love and compassion abundant,
Desirous at all times to rescue the sufferers.
But those to be saved must be ripened in merit,
Their wisdom be keen, their virtue established.
These are the conditions salvation requires,
They must be present for freedom to burst through.

4. The Quietist Controversy

From the Preface to the Chinese Memorial to the Tibetan king:

In the year 792, our great teacher received a message from the
king which said: 'The Indian monks have claimed that the Zen system,
teaching a sudden enlightenment, which the Chinese monks are
expounding, is not at all the Lord Buddha's teaching, and they ask for it
to be suppressed.' Our teacher, on hearing this, laughed softly, and said:
'Those Indian people cannot be rooted very deeply in the Great Vehicle,
that they allow Mara's army to molest them! Do they not risk their own
salvation by claiming that the doctrine I teach is contrary to the Buddha's
Law?' And he asked the king to arrange a debate, and the Indian monks
to formulate their questions and objections, so that he could reply to
them. Worsted in the debate, the Indian monks thereupon attempted to
get their own way by means of intrigues with certain Tibetan noblemen.
In protest, two Tibetan followers of the Zen school sacrificed their bodies
for Dharma's sake - one burnt himself alive, the other stabbed himself
with a knife. And thirty more Tibetan monks threatened to lay down their
yellow robes and to retire into the wilderness.

From the Ho-shan's Memorial to the Tibetan king:

Question (by Kamalashila): One might say that someone can

become a Buddha only after having acquired for countless aeons an
enormous amount of merit and knowledge, and that one cannot become a
Buddha simply by the suppression of false ideas. For in that case, there
would have been no point in speaking about the six Perfections, or the
twelvefold Scripture. It would have been quite sufficient just to talk about
the suppression of false ideas. Your views are therefore unreasonable.

Answer: It is because for countless aeons they have been unable

to escape from false ideas that all living beings are since beginningless
time impregnated with the triple poison of greed, hate, and delusion, are
tied to the flood of Samsaric existence, and cannot free themselves from
it. But any being who can get rid of these false ideas will win
emancipation and become a Buddha.

Objection: Many aeons are needed to acquire the knowledge of all

dharmas, as well as the vast mass of merit which is the result of
practising all virtues. These are the prerequisites of the highest forms of
meditation. The Buddhas have taught a gradual, not a sudden, method.

Answer: From a dharmic point of view, to practise and not to

practise are both false ideas. As soon as false ideas are got rid of, the
great knowledge is automatically realized. 'Gradual' and 'sudden' are
likewise false ideas, a mere reflection of wrong and unfounded opinions.

Question: What do you mean by 'looking into your own mind'?

Answer: To turn one's vision unto the source of the mind, and
completely abstain from all reflection and discursive thinking.

Question: It is said in the 'Sutra on the Ten Stages' that only on

the eighth stage of their career can the Bodhisattvas have an objectless
thought. How then could ordinary people, who have not even reached the
first stage, obtain a thought so pure?

Answer: Why then should the Buddhas have left behind for future
generations a doctrine which teaches us to abandon all discursive ideas, if
ordinary people are incapable of studying and practising that doctrine?

Question: Are then the six Perfections, and all the other moral and
meditational practices which the Scriptures enjoin necessary, or are they
not?

Answer: When we look at them from a vulgar and conventional

point of view, the six Perfections and the other practices are useful
expedients which reveal the ultimate truth. In that sense they are
necessary. But from the point of view of the ultimate truth, which cannot
be expressed in words, one cannot speak here of either necessity or non-
necessity.

Question: Are conventional and ultimate truth the same, or

different?

Answer: They are neither the same nor different. In what way are
they not the same? As long as false ideas are not abandoned, one has a
belief in the existence of a conventional truth different from ultimate
truth. In what way are they not different? If all false ideas have been
removed without residue, the identity and difference of the two kinds of
truth can no longer be distinguished.
 Question: If one has no thoughts, no ideas, no reflections, no
mental processes - how can one have a Buddha's knowledge of
everything in all its aspects?

Answer: Once the false ideas no longer arise, as soon as one

abstains from all of them, the true nature which exists within the core of
our own being reveals itself and omniscience together with it.

Question: If we have no other duties apart from quiet

contemplation, how can we be useful to other beings?

Answer: Even without thought-processes one can be useful to

other beings. For one can be like the sun or moon whose rays light up all
things, like the wishing jewel which can create anything, like the great
earth which has the power to produce all things.

Question: You say that beings from the very beginning have the
Buddha-nature within them. How can that be proved? Also, this doctrine
rather resembles that of the outsiders who believe in a self. How does
your doctrine differ from theirs?

Answer: The Buddha-nature which is ours from the very beginning

is like the sun which emerges from the clouds, or like a mirror which,
when rubbed, regains its original purity and clarity. From the outsiders we
differ in that they do not admit that the Triple world is nothing but the
manifestation of Mind itself.

Question: The Scriptures teach a great number of antidotes for the

removal of the poisons of greed, hate, and delusion. Why should they
have been distinctly explained, if the mere withdrawal from false ideas is
sufficient in itself? For specific mental illnesses specific treatments have in
fact been prescribed.

Answer: The Nirvanasutra speaks of a medicine called Agada, a

panacea which heals all sicknesses whatever they may be. Likewise with
non-thought and non-reflection.
 Question: Are then the various spiritual practices necessary?

Answer: A Sutra tells us that all we have to do is to abandon all

discursive thinking and discrimination, and that thereby we are
automatically endowed with all the spiritual practices. If one has taken
hold of Suchness - and Suchness allows of no thought or discrimination -
then thereby one becomes automatically possessed of all dharmas, and
one may then either engage in spiritual practices or one may not. But, as
long as one has missed Suchness, it is indeed necessary to practise the
six Perfections and the other methods of salvation. But 'Such-ness
contains all the dharmas', and from its point of view no practice exists
and no non-practice either.

Part Three - Other Worlds And Future Times

1 - Other Worlds

The horizon of Buddhists is not bounded by the limits of the

sensory world, and their true interests lie beyond it. Not all forms of life
fall within the range of the five senses. There are in addition the heavens
and hells, in which people are rewarded and punished for their deeds, the
'intermediary state' in which they pass the interval between death and
rebirth, and the 'Pure Lands' of the cosmic buddhas.

(1) The 'gods' are in a way really 'angels', and their 'heavens'
might also be called 'paradises'. Buddhist theology knows of about thirty
kinds of gods, but the higher grades have a constitution so refined and a
mode of life so unfamiliar that we could not easily form a concrete idea of
their mode of existence. Detailed information is confined to the lowest
heavens. One of these is the Paradise of Indra, also known as the heaven
of the 'Thirty-three', a mythological concept borrowed from the Hindus.
Its description here is taken from Ashvaghosha's poem on 'Nanda the
Fair'. It tells the story of Nanda, a relative of the Buddha, who was
converted and became a monk. When, longing to be back with his wife,
Nanda was on the point of leaving the Order, the Buddha engendered in
him distaste for his wife by showing him the celestial nymphs in Indra's
heaven.

(2) The 'hells' do not imply eternal damnation, and correspond

perhaps more to the 'purgatory' of the Catholics. Descriptions and
pictorial representations of the hells were regarded as salutary warnings
to sinners, and there are many to choose from. The one selected from the
'Middling Collection' of the Pali Canon recommended itself by its brevity.
If it is to be trusted, the fate of sinners is indeed gruesome to
contemplate. Some Buddhists claim that these accounts of hell should be
interpreted not literally but symbolically. We must hope so.

(3) Many Buddhists further believe they possess definite

knowledge of life after death, but there is no agreement here among the
schools. Some assume rebirth to be instantaneous - i.e. the last act of
'death-consciousness' in the old organism is followed immediately by a
new act of 'rebirth-consciousness' in the new one. Others hold that
between death and rebirth we spend forty-nine days in an 'intermediary
state' (Bardo in Tibetan), which is most graphically described in the
Tibetan Book of the Dead. This important book is far too long to be
included in full. For my summary I have relied on Evans- Wentez's English
translation (3rd ed., 1957), Alexandra David-Neel's French version of a
much shorter manual, and a Tibetan manuscript in the India Office
Library. This work represents Stone Age knowledge of life after death,
and many other traditions, preserved in Egyptian, Persian, and Christian
writings, corroborate its revelations. It will seem pure nonsense to most
of those who have undergone modern compulsory education. Professor
Jung, however, priced it sufficiently to say that 'from the year of its
appearance onwards the Bardo has been my constant companion'. It is in
any case a religious commonplace that no life is well lived unless it
prepares for death.
 (4) The list of 'other worlds' envisaged by the Buddhists is not yet
exhausted. The Mahayana, as we saw in II 5, 3, taught that innumerable
Buddhas exist at the same time, and it assigned them a place in the stars
outside the galactic system, where they reside in what is known as 'Pure
Lands'. The most famous of these 'Kingdoms of the Buddhas' is that of
Amitabha in the West, and many Japanese hope to be reborn there. Our
passage concerning it is taken from the 'Description of the Happy Land', a
Sanskrit work of the first century A.D.

1. The Bliss Of The Heavens

The Lord soon discovered that it was because of thoughts about

his wife that Nanda had strayed away into darkness. He accordingly took
him by the hand, and flew with him to heaven, as a cormorant comes up
to the surface of the water with a fish he has caught. Their yellow robes
shone like bright gold in the clear blue sky, and they were like a pair of
sheldrakes who suddenly, with wings outstretched, rise out of a lake in
unison. And so the Lord took Nanda to the paradise of king Indra, the
bearer of the thunderbolt. There some trees change their appearance
with the six seasons, while others display the splendid glory of all seasons
all at once.

Some bear manifold garlands and wreaths, fragrant, beautiful and

already tied together, and also posies which fit the ear so perfectly that
they seem superior to ear-rings. Some trees flower with red lotuses in full
bloom, and look as if covered with lamps; on others again grow blue
lotuses in full bloom, and they appear to have wide-open eyes. The
surface of the ponds is there always unruffled, and they abound in golden
water lilies, with stalks of lapis-lazuli, and with shoots and stamens of
diamond, well-scented and delightful to the hands. Musical instruments of
many kinds grow there, like so many fruits, on trees which are brilliant
with gems and gold, handy for those dwellers in the heaven of the Thirty-
three who wish to use them. And, most excellent of all, the celestial coral
tree there rises up in unrivalled majesty. There are birds with deep-red
beaks, crystal eyes, tawny wings tipped with scarlet, and feet half
crimson and half white. Other gaily adorned feathered creatures also
flutter around, flame-coloured, with faces that seem all afire. Their
beauty catches the eyes of the celestial nymphs, and their songs charm
them with their sweetness. There those who have done meritorious deeds
live happily, they do as they like, are always joyous and untroubled, for
ever young and free from grief, and they shine with their own light, each
in his own station which is determined by his past deeds.

There celestial nymphs with their playfulness captivate the

wearied minds of those ascetics who had, in their life on earth, decided to
purchase Paradise by first paying the price in austerities. They are always
in the prime of their youth, and libidinous enjoyment is their only
concern. They can be used by anyone who has done the required
meritorious deeds; and for celestial beings no fault is attached to
possessing them. They are in fact the choicest of all the rewards of
austerities.

And Nanda looked at Indra's grove, in all directions, with eyes

wide open and astonished. But the celestial nymphs exuberantly came
round him, and eyed each other in high spirits. When he saw that world
to be one long round of merry-making, and that no tiredness, sleepiness,
discontent, sorrow, and disease existed anywhere, the world of men
seemed to him no better than a cemetery, as being under the sway of old
age and death, and as being always in distress. Just as the sun, when it
rises, eclipses the light of a lamp lit when it was dark, so the glory of the
celestial nymphs nullifies the lustre of all merely human women.

And so Nanda forgot about his wife, and wanted to have the
celestial nymphs instead. In order that he might win them one day, he
resumed his meditations. Ananda, however, warned him that the sojourn
in Paradise is only temporary, and that the day must come when the
deities fall to earth, and wail in deep distress: 'Oh, the grove of
Citraratha! Oh, no more the heavenly lake! Oh, the river of heaven, no
longer! Oh, how dear they were to me!'
 And Ananda added: 'Just think how bitter is the pain here of
people when they are about to die; how much greater must be that of
those pleasure-loving beings when in the end they fall from heaven!
Among mortals death is heralded by ominous symptoms; so likewise
there are signs which show that a deity is about to fall; for instance, his
clothes now catch the dust, his magnificent garlands wither, sweat bursts
out on his limbs, and he feels no more delight in being where he is. If you
compare the happiness which they have had from tasting sensuous
pleasures in heaven with the suffering which their fall from it brings, then
the suffering is by far the greater of the two. Recognize that Paradise is
only temporary, that it gives no real freedom, holds out no security,
cannot be trusted and gives no lasting satisfaction! It is better therefore
to strive for final release. Even the dwellers in heaven, with all their
might, come to an end. No intelligent man would set his heart on winning
the right to a brief stay among them!'

2. The Torments Of The Hells

To begin with, the wardens of hell subject the sinner to the

fivefold trussing. They drive red-hot iron stakes first through one hand,
then through the other, and then through his two feet and his chest. After
that they carry him along to be trimmed with hatchets. Then, head
downwards, they trim him with razors. Then they harness him to a
chariot, and make him pull it to and fro across a fiery expanse blazing
with fire. Then those wardens make him climb up and down a huge
mountain of red-hot embers, all afire, aflame, and ablaze. Next they take
hold of him by his feet, and hurl him into a cauldron full of melted copper,
all afire, aflame, and ablaze. In that seething foam he is thoroughly
boiled, and whirled now up, now down, now to this side, now to that.
With each punishment he feels sharp and bitter pains, and death does not
release him until he has got rid of the after-effects of his evil deeds.

After that the wardens of hell hurl him into the Great Hell, which
is:
 Foursquare, four doored, a realm quadrangular,
Fenced all around and roofed with iron,
Its floor one incandescent mass of molten steel,
A hundred leagues this way and that its range extends.

The flames leap and surge right across, and fill it throughout, from
right to left, and from top to bottom. And a time will come, some time,
after a very long stretch of time has elapsed, when one of the four doors
of the Great Hell opens up. Swiftly and nimbly he runs towards it — his
skin all ablaze, his hide all ablaze, his flesh all ablaze, his sinews all
ablaze, with thick smoke belching from his bones. And just when he has
nearly reached the door it will close in front of him. And then, after a very
long time, the Eastern door of the Great Hell will open once more, and
through that door he will get out.

But next to the Great Hell there is a Hell full of Filth, and into that
he falls now. Therein needle-mouthed creatures successively rip away his
skin, hide, flesh, and sinews, and break open his bones, so that they can
munch his marrow. Right alongside that Hell full of Filth is the Hell full of
Hot Ashes, and into that he falls now and suffers dreadfully there. Next to
it there is the great Forest of Sword-Trees, all afire, aflame, and ablaze.
The trees tower one league high, their spikes are half a yard long, and he
is made to climb up and down these trees. Right alongside is the large
Sword-leaf-wood, and he is next pushed into that. Moved by the wind,
the leaves cut off his hands and feet, as well as his ears and nose. Right
alongside is the great Caustic River, and into that he is plunged next. And
he is carried up the stream, down the stream, to and fro, again and
again.

With a fish-hook the wardens after a time pull him out, put him on
dry land, and ask him: 'What then, my friend, do you want now?' And he
answers: 'I am hungry, Sir!' On hearing this, they prize open his mouth
with a red-hot iron crowbar, and push into his mouth a red-hot ball of
copper, all afire, aflame, and ablaze. And that burns his lips, mouth,
throat, and chest, and passes out below, taking with it the bowels and
intestines Once more the wardens ask him what he wants, and he says
that he is thirsty. Again they prize open his mouth with a red-hot iron
crowbar, and pour into his mouth molten lead, all afire, aflame, and
ablaze. And that burns his lips, mouth, throat and chest, and passes out
below, taking with it the bowels, and the intestines.

After that the wardens again push him back into the Great Hell.

For a long time now king Yama has been thinking to himself:
'Those who do evil deeds in the world, they must undergo these kinds of
punishment. How much I wished that I could become a human being, at a
time when a Tathagata arises in the world, an Arhat, a fully enlightened
Buddha. Then I could pay homage to the Lord, and the Lord would teach
me the Dharma, and I could thoroughly comprehend the Lord's Dharma!'

And, monks, I tell you all this not because I have heard it from
someone else, be he a recluse or Brahmin. But only that which I myself
have known, I myself have seen, I myself have discerned - only that I tell
you.

Thus spoke the Lord.

3. Life After Death, And 'The Book Of The Dead'

This is what the Lama reads to the dying person:

Preamble

I now transmit to you the profound teachings which I have myself

received from my Teacher, and, through him, from the long line of
initiated Gurus. Pay attention to it now, and do not allow yourself to be
distracted by other thoughts! Remain lucid and calm, and bear in mind
what you hear! If you suffer, do not give in to the pain I If restful
numbness overtakes you, if you swoon away into a peaceful forgetting -
do not surrender yourself to that! Remain watchful and alert!
 The factors which made up the person known as E.C. are about to
disperse. Your mental activities are separating themselves from your
body, and they are about to enter the intermediary state. Rouse your
energy, so that you may enter this state self-possessed and in full
consciousness!

I. The moment of death, and the clear light of Pure Reality

First of all there will appear to you, swifter than lightning, the
luminous splendour of the colourless light of Emptiness, and that will
surround you on all sides. Terrified, you will want to flee from the
radiance, and you may well lose consciousness. Try to submerge yourself
in that light, giving up all belief in a separate self, all attachment to your
illusory ego. Recognize that the boundless Light of this true Reality is
your own true self, and you shall be saved!

Few, however, are those who, having missed salvation during their
life on earth, can attain it during this brief instant which passes so
quickly. The overwhelming majority are shocked into unconsciousness by
the terror they feel.

The emergence of a subtle body

If you miss salvation at that moment, you will be forced to have a

number of further dreams, both pleasant and unpleasant. Even they offer
you a chance to gain understanding, as long as you remain vigilant and
alert. A few days after death there suddenly emerges a subtle illusory
dream-body, also known as the 'mental body'. It is impregnated with the
after-effects of your past desires, endowed with all sense-faculties, and
has the power of unimpeded motion. It can go right through rocks, hills,
boulders, and walls, and in an instant it can traverse any distance. Even
after the physical sense-organs are dissolved, sights, sounds, smells,
tastes, and touches will be perceived, and ideas will be formed. These are
the result of the energy still residing in the six kinds of consciousness, the
after-effects of what you did with your body and mind in the past. But
you must know that all you perceive is a mere vision, a mere illusion, and
does not reflect any really existing objects. Have no fear, and form no
attachment! View it all even mindedly, without like or dislike!

II. The experience of the spiritual realities

Three and a half days after your death, Buddhas and Bodhisattvas
will for seven days appear to you in their benign and peaceful aspect.
Their light will shine upon you, but it will be so radiant that you will
scarcely be able to look at it. Wonderful and delightful though they are,
the Buddhas may nevertheless frighten you. Do not give in to your fright!
Do not run away! Serenely contemplate the spectacle before you!
Overcome your fear, and feel no desire! Realize that these are the rays of
the grace of the Buddhas, who come to receive you into their Buddha-
realms. Pray to them with intense faith and humility, and, in a halo of
rainbow light, you will merge into the heart of the divine Father-Mother,
and take up your abode in one of the realms of the Buddhas. Thereby you
may still at this moment win your salvation.

But if you miss it, you will next, for another seven days, be
confronted with the angry deities, and the Guardians of the Faith,
surrounded by their followers in tumultuous array, many of them in the
form of animals which you have never seen in the life you left. Bathed in
multicoloured light they stand before you, threatening you and barring
your passage. Loud are their voices, with which they shout, 'Hit him! Hit
him! Kill him! Kill him!' This is what you have to hear, because you turned
a deaf ear to the saving truths of religion! All these forms are strange to
you, you do not recognize them for what they are. They terrify you
beyond words, and yet it is you who have created them. Do not give in to
your fright, resist your mental confusion! All this is unreal, and what you
see are the contents of your own mind in conflict with itself. All these
terrifying deities, witches, and demons around you -fear them not, flee
them not! They are but the benevolent Buddhas and Bodhisattvas,
changed in their outward aspect. In you alone are the five wisdoms, the
source of the benign spirits! In you alone are the five poisons, the source
of the angry spirits 1 It is from your own mind therefore that all this has
sprung. What you see here is but the reflection of the contents of your
own mind in the mirror of the Void. If at this point you should manage to
understand that, the shock of this insight will stun you, your subtle body
will disperse into a rainbow, and you will find yourself in paradise among
the angels.

III. Seeking rebirth

But if you fail to grasp the meaning of what you were taught, if
you still continue to feel a desire to exist as an individual, then you are
now doomed to again re-enter the wheel of becoming.

The Judgement

You are now before Yama, King of the Dead. In vain will you try to
lie, and to deny or conceal the evil deeds you have done. The Judge holds
up before you the shining mirror of Karma, wherein all your deeds are
reflected. But again you have to deal with dream images, which you
yourself have made, and which you project outside, without recognizing
them as your own work. The mirror in which Yama seems to read your
past is your own memory, and also his judgement is your own. It is you
yourself who pronounce your own judgement, which in its turn
determines your next rebirth. No terrible God pushes you into it; you go
there quite on your own. The shapes of the frightening monsters who
take hold of you, place a rope round your neck and drag you along, are
just an illusion which you create from the forces within you. Know that
apart from these karmic forces there is no Judge of the Dead, no gods,
and no demons. Knowing that, you will be free!

The desire for rebirth

At this juncture you will realize that you are dead. You will think, 1
am dead I What shall I do?' and you will feel as miserable as a fish out of
water on red-hot embers. Your consciousness, having no object on which
to rest, will be like a feather tossed about by the wind, riding on the
horse of breath. At about that time the fierce wind of karma, terrific and
hard to bear, will drive you onwards, from behind, in dreadful gusts. And
after a while the thought will occur to you, 'O what would I not give to
possess a body!' But because you can at first find no place for you to
enter into, you will be disatisfied and have the sensation of being
squeezed into cracks and crevices amidst rocks and boulders.

The dawning of the lights of the six places of rebirth

Then there will shine upon you the lights of the six places of
rebirth. The light of the place in which you will be reborn will shine most
prominently, but it is your own karmic disposition which decides about
your choice. The rays of lights which will guide you to the various worlds
will seem to you restful and friendly compared with the blinding flash of
light which met you at first.

If you have deserved it by your good deeds, a white light will

guide you into one of the heavens, and for a while you will have some
happiness among the gods. Habits of envy and ambition will attract you
to the red light, which leads to rebirth among the warlike Asuras, forever
agitated by anger and envy. If you feel drawn to a blue light, you will find
yourself again a human being, and well you remember how little
happiness that brought you! If you had a heavy and dull mind, you will
choose the green light, which leads you to the world of animals, unhappy
because insecure and excluded from the knowledge which brings
salvation. A ray of dull yellow will lead you to the world of the ghosts,
and, finally, a ray of the colour of darkish smoke into the hells. Try to
desist, if you can! Think of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas! Recall that all
these visions are unreal, control your mind, feel amity towards all that
lives! And do not be afraid! You alone are the source of all these different
rays. In you alone they exist, and so do the worlds to which they lead.
Feel not attracted or repelled, but remain even minded and calm!

Reincarnation
 If so far you have been deaf to the teaching, listen to it now! An
overpowering craving will come over you for the sense-experiences which
you remember having had in the past, and which through your lack of
sense-organs you cannot now have. Your desire for rebirth becomes more
and more urgent; it becomes a real torment to you. This desire now racks
you; you do not, however, experience it for what it is, but feel it as a
deep thirst which parches you as you wander along, harassed, among
deserts of burning sands. Whenever you try to take some rest, monstrous
forms rise up before you. Some have animal heads on human bodies,
others are gigantic birds with huge wings and claws. Their howlings and
their whips drive you on, and then a hurricane carries you along, with
those demonic beings in hot pursuit. Greatly anxious, you will look for a
safe place of refuge.

Everywhere around you, you will see animals and humans in the
act of sexual intercourse. You envy them, and the sight attracts you. If
your karmic coefficients destine you to become a male, you feel attracted
to the females and you hate the males you see. If you are destined to
become a female, you will feel love for the males and hatred for the
females you see. Do not go near the couples you see, do not try to
interpose yourself between them, do not try to take the place of one of
them! The feeling which you would then experience would make you faint
away, just at the moment when egg and sperm are about to unite. And
afterwards you will find that you have been conceived as a human being
or as an animal.

4. Celestial Paradises: The Pure Land Of Amitabha

This world Sukhavati, Ananda, which is the world system of the

Lord Amitabha, is rich and prosperous, comfortable, fertile, delightful and
crowded with many Gods and men. And in this world system, Ananda,
there are no hells, no animals, no ghosts, no Asuras and none of the
inauspicious places of rebirth. And in this our world no jewels make their
appearance like those which exist in the world system Sukhavati.
 And that world system Sukhavati, Ananda, emits many fragrant
odours, it is rich in a great variety of flowers and fruits, adorned with
jewel trees, which are frequented by flocks of various birds with sweet
voices, which the Tathagata's miraculous power has conjured up. And
these jewel trees, Ananda, have various colours, many colours, many
hundreds of thousands of colours. They are variously composed of the
seven precious things, in varying combinations, i.e. of gold, silver, beryl,
crystal, coral, red pearls, or emerald. Such jewel trees, and clusters of
banana trees and rows of palm trees, all made of precious things, grow
everywhere in this Buddha-field. On all sides it is surrounded with golden
nets, and all round covered with lotus flowers made of all the precious
things. Some of the lotus flowers are half a mile in circumference, others
up to ten miles. And from each jewel lotus issue thirty-six hundred
thousand kotis of rays. And at the end of each ray there issue thirty-six
hundred thousand kotis of Buddhas, with golden-coloured bodies, who
bear the thirty-two marks of the superman, and who, in all the ten
directions, go into countless world systems, and there demonstrate
Dharma.

And further, Ananda, in this Buddha-field there are nowhere any

mountains - black mountains, jewel mountains, Sumerus, kings of
mountains, circular mountains and great circular mountains. But the
Buddha-field is everywhere even, delightful like the palm of the hand, and
in all its parts the ground contains a great variety of jewels and gems.

And many kinds of rivers flow along in this world system

Sukhavati. There are great rivers there, one mile broad, and up to fifty
miles broad and twelve miles deep. And all these rivers flow along calmly,
their water is fragrant with manifold agreeable odours, in them there are
bunches of flowers to which various jewels adhere, and they resound with
various sweet sounds. And the sound which issues from these great rivers
is as pleasant as that of a musical instrument, which consists of hundreds
of thousands of kotis of parts, and which, skilfully played, emits a
heavenly music. It is deep, commanding, distinct, clear, pleasant to the
ear, touching the heart, delightful, sweet, pleasant, and one never tires of
hearing it, it always agrees with one and one likes to hear it, like the
words 'Impermanent, peaceful, calm, and not-self'. Such is the sound
that reaches the ears of those beings.

And, Ananda, both the banks of those great rivers are lined with
variously scented jewel trees, and from them bunches of flowers, leaves,
and branches of all kinds hang down. And if those beings wish to indulge
in sports full of heavenly delights on those river-banks, then, after they
have stepped into the water, the water in each case rises as high as they
wish it to - up to the ankles, or the knees, or the hips, or their sides, or
their ears. And heavenly delights arise. Again, if beings wish the water to
be cold, for them it becomes cold; if they wish it to be hot, for them it
becomes hot; if they wish it to be hot and cold, for them it becomes hot
and cold, to suit their pleasure. And those rivers flow along, full of water
scented with the finest odours, and covered with beautiful flowers,
resounding with the sounds of many birds, easy to ford, free from mud,
and with golden sand at the bottom. And all the wishes those beings may
think of, they all will be fulfilled, as long as they are rightful.

And as to the pleasant sound which issues from the water (of
these rivers), that reaches all the parts of this Buddha-field. And
everyone hears the pleasant sound he wishes to hear, i.e. he hears of the
Buddha, the Dharma, the Samgha, of the (six) perfections, the (ten)
stages, the powers, the grounds of self-confidence, of the special
dharmas of a Buddha, of the analytical knowledges, of emptiness, the
signless, and the wishless, of the uneffected, the unborn, of non-
production, non-existence, non-cessation, of calm, quietude, and peace,
of the great friendliness, the great compassion, the great sympathetic
joy, the great evenmindedness, of the patient acceptance of things which
fail to be produced, and of the acquisition of the stage where one is
consecrated (as a Tathagata). And, hearing this, one gains the exalted
zest and joyfulness, which is associated with detachment, dispassion,
calm, cessation, Dharma, and brings about the state of mind which leads
to the accomplishment of enlightenment. And nowhere in this world-
system Sukhavati does one hear of anything unwholesome, nowhere of
the hindrances, nowhere of the states of punishment, the states of woe
and the bad destinies, nowhere of suffering. Even of feelings which are
neither pleasant nor unpleasant one does not hear there, how much less
of suffering I And that, Ananda, is the reason why this world-system is
called the 'Happy Land' (Sukhavati). But all this describes it only in brief,
not in detail. One aeon might well reach its end while one proclaims the
reasons for happiness in the world-system Sukhavati, and still one could
not come to the end of (the enumeration of) the reasons for happiness.

Moreover, Ananda, all the beings who have been reborn in this
world-system Sukhavati, who are reborn in it, or who will be reborn in it,
they will be exactly like the Paranirmitavasavartin Gods; of the same
colour, strength, vigour, height and breadth, dominion, store of merit,
and keenness of super-knowledges; they enjoy the same dresses,
ornaments, parks, palaces, and pointed towers, the same kind of forms,
sounds, smells, tastes, and touchables, just the same kinds of
enjoyments. And the beings in the world-system Sukhavati do not eat
gross food, like soup or raw sugar; but whatever food they may wish for,
that they perceive as eaten, and they become gratified in body and mind,
without there being any further need to throw the food into the body. And
if, after their bodies are gratified, they wish for certain perfumes, then
the whole of that Buddha-field becomes scented with just that kind of
heavenly perfumes. But if someone does not wish to smell that perfume,
then the perception of it does not reach him. In the same way, whatever
they may wish for comes to them, be it musical instruments, banners,
flags, etc.; or cloaks of different colours, or ornaments of various kinds. If
they wish for a palace of a certain colour, distinguishing marks,
construction, height, and width, made of various precious things, adorned
with hundreds of thousands of pinnacles, while inside it various heavenly
woven materials are spread out, and it is full of couches strewn with
beautiful cushions - then just such a palace appears before them. In
those delightful palaces, surrounded and honoured by seven times seven
thousand Apsarases, they dwell, play, enjoy, and disport themselves.

And the beings who are touched by the winds, which are pervaded
with various perfumes, are filled with a happiness as great as that of a
monk who has achieved the cessation of suffering.
 And in this Buddha-field one has no conception at all of fire, sun,
moon, planets, constellations, stars, or blinding darkness, and no
conception even of day and night, except (where they are mentioned) in
the sayings of the Tathagata. There is nowhere a notion of monks
possessing private parks for retreats.

And all the beings who have been born, who are born, who will be
born in this Buddha-field, they all are fixed on the right method of
salvation, until they have won Nirvana. And why? Because there is here
no place for and no conception of the two other groups, i.e. of those who
are not fixed at all, and those who are fixed on wrong ways. For this
reason also that world-system is called the 'Happy Land'.

And further again, Ananda, in the ten directions, in each single

direction, in Buddha-fields countless like the sands of the river Ganges,
Buddhas and Lords countless like the sands of the river Ganges glorify the
name of the Lord Amitabha, the Tathagata, praise him, proclaim his
fame, extol his virtue. And why? Because all beings are irreversible from
the supreme enlightenment if they hear the name of the Lord Amitabha,
and, on hearing it, with one single thought only raise their hearts to him
with a resolve connected with serene faith.

And if any beings, Ananda, again and again reverently attend to

this Tathagata, if they will plant a large and immeasurable root of good,
having raised their hearts to enlightenment, and if they vow to be reborn
in that world system, then, when the hour of their death approaches, that
Tathagata Amitabha, the Arhat, the fully Enlightened One, will stand
before them, surrounded by hosts of monks. Then, having seen that Lord,
and having died with hearts serene, they will be reborn in just that world-
system Sukhavati. And if there are sons or daughters of good family, who
may desire to see that Tathagata Amitabha in this very life, they should
raise their hearts to the supreme enlightenment, they should direct their
thought with extreme resoluteness and perseverance unto this Buddha-
field and they should dedicate their store of merit to being reborn therein.
 2 - Maitreya, The Future Buddha

As the years pass, the impulse of the teaching of the Buddha

Shakyamuni gradually exhausts itself, and attention shifts to Maitreya,
the coming Buddha, who will appear in the future, after about 30,000
years or so. At present Maitreya is believed to reside in the Tushita
heaven, awaiting his last rebirth when the time is ripe. His name is
derived from mitra, 'friend', 'friendliness' being a basic Buddhist virtue,
akin to Christian 'love'. For centuries Iran exerted a strong influence in
the North-west of India, and in the beginning Maitreya bad strong
affinities with Mithras. At present, many Buddhists look forward to bis
coming. In South Asia these eschatological hopes are little stressed,
whereas in Central Asia they are a source of great religious fervour. To be
reborn in Maitreya's presence is the greatest wish of many Tibetans and
Mongols, and the inscription 'Come, Maitreya, cornel' on the rocks of
numerous mountains testifies to their longing.

Maitreya's life is described in many documents, in Pali, Sanskrit,

Chinese, and Tibetan. I have translated a typical Sanskrit version of
uncertain date, which is comparatively easy to understand. It is in verse,
in a rhythm similar to:

Jerusalem, my happy home,

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys when shall I see?
O happy harbour of the saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
No grief, no care, no toil.
There lust and lucre cannot dwell,
There envy bears no sway;
There is no hunger, heat, nor cold,
But pleasure every way.
Thy walls are made of precious stones;
Thy bulwarks diamonds square;
 Thy gates are of right orient pearl,
Exceeding rich and rare.
Thy houses are of ivory;
Thy windows crystal clear;
Thy tiles are made of beaten gold;
O God that I were there!

'The Prophecy Concerning Maitreya'

Sariputra, the great general of the doctrine, most wise and

resplendent, from compassion for the world asked the Lord: 'Some time
ago you have spoken to us of the future Buddha, who will lead the world
at a future period, and who will bear the name of Maitreya. I would now
wish to hear more about his powers and miraculous gifts. Tell me, O best
of men, about them!'

The Lord replied: 'At that time, the ocean will lose much of its
water, and there will be much less of it than now. In consequence a
world-ruler will have no difficulties in passing across it. India, this island
of Jambu, will be quite flat everywhere, it will measure ten thousand
leagues, and all men will have the privilege of living on it. It will have
innumerable inhabitants, who will commit no crimes or evil deeds, but will
take pleasure in doing good. The soil will then be free from thorns, even,
and covered with a fresh green growth of grass; when one jumps on it, it
gives way, and becomes soft like the leaves of the cotton tree. It has a
delicious scent, and tasty rice grows on it, without any work. Rich silken,
and other, fabrics of various colours shoot forth from the trees. The trees
will bear leaves, flowers, and fruits simultaneously; they are as high as
the voice can reach and they last for eight myriads of years. Human
beings are then without any blemishes, moral offences are unknown
among them, and they are full of zest and joy. Their bodies are very large
and their skin has a fine hue. Their strength is quite extraordinary. Three
kinds of illness only are known - people must relieve their bowels, they
must eat, they must get old. Only when five hundred years old do the
women marry.

'The city of Ketumati will at that time be the capital. In it will

reside the world-ruler, Shankha by name, who will rule over the earth up
to the confines of the ocean; and he will make the Dharma prevail. He will
be a great hero, raised to his station by the force of hundreds of
meritorious deeds. His spiritual adviser will be a Brahmin, Subrahmana by
name, a very learned man, well versed in the four Vedas, and steeped in
all the lore of the Brahmins. And that Brahmin will have a wife, called
Brahmavati, beautiful, attractive, handsome, and renowned.

'Maitreya, the best of men, will then leave the Tushita heavens,
and go for his last rebirth into the womb of that woman. For ten whole
months she will carry about his radiant body. Then she will go to a grove
full of beautiful flowers, and there, neither seated nor lying down, but
standing up, holding on to the branch of a tree, she will give birth to
Maitreya. He, supreme among men, will emerge from her right side, as
the sun shines forth when it has prevailed over a bank of clouds. No more
polluted by the impurities of the womb than a lotus by drops of water, he
will fill this entire Triple world with his splendour. As soon as he is born he
will walk seven steps forward, and where he puts down his feet a jewel or
a lotus will spring up. He will raise his eyes to the ten directions, and will
speak these words: "This is my last birth. There will be no rebirth after
this one. Never will I come back here, but, all pure, I shall win Nirvana I"

'And when his father sees that his son has the thirty-two Marks of
a superman, and considers their implications in the light of the holy
mantras, he will be filled with joy, for he will know that, as the mantras
show, two ways are open to his son: he will either be a universal
monarch, or a supreme Buddha. But as Maitreya grows up, the Dharma
will increasingly take possession of him, and he will reflect that all that
lives is bound to suffer. He will have a heavenly voice which reaches far;
his skin will have a golden hue, a great splendour will radiate from his
body, his chest will be broad, his limbs well developed, and his eyes will
be like lotus petals. His body is eighty cubits high, and twenty cubits
broad. He will have a retinue of 84,000 persons, whom he will instruct in
the mantras. With this retinue he will one day go forth into the homeless
life. A Dragon tree will then be the tree under which he will win
enlightenment; its branches rise up to fifty leagues, and its foliage
spreads far and wide over six Kos. Underneath it Maitreya, the best of
men, will attain supreme enlightenment - there can be no doubt on that.
And he will win his enlightenment the very same day that he has gone
forth into the homeless life.

'And then, a supreme sage, he will with a perfect voice preach the
true dharma, which is auspicious and removes all ill, i.e. the fact of ill, the
origination of ill, the transcending of ill, and the holy eightfold path which
brings security and leads to Nirvana. He will explain the four Truths,
because he has seen that generation, in faith, ready for them, and those
who have listened to his Dharma will thereupon make progress in the
religion. They will be assembled in a park full of beautiful flowers, and his
assembly will extend over a hundred leagues. Under Maitreya's guidance,
hundreds of thousands of living beings shall enter upon a religious life.

'And thereupon Maitreya, the compassionate teacher, surveys

those who have gathered around him, and speaks to them as follows:
"Shakyamuni has seen all of you, he, the best of sages, the saviour, the
world's true protector, the repository of the true Dharma. It was he who
has set you on the path to deliverance, but before you could finally win it
you have had to wait for my teaching. It is because you have worshipped
Shakyamuni with parasols, banners, flags, perfumes, garlands, and
unguents that you have arrived here to hear my teaching. It is because
you have offered to the shrines of Shakyamuni unguents of sandalwood,
or powdered saffron, that you have arrived here to hear my teaching. It is
because you have always gone for refuge to the Buddha, the Dharma,
and the Samgha, that you have arrived here to hear my teaching. It is
because, in Shakyamuni's dispensation, you have undertaken to observe
the moral precepts, and have actually done so, that you have arrived
here to hear my teaching. It is because you have given gifts to the monks
- robes, drink, food, and many kinds of medicines - that you have arrived
here to hear my teaching. It is because you have always observed the
sabbath days that you have arrived here to hear my teaching."

'And Shakra, the thousand-eyed, the resplendent king of the gods,

rejoiced greatly, saluted the leader of the world, and praised him as
follows: "Homage to you, O noblest of men! Homage to you, to the best
of all men! Have pity on the multitude, O Lord!" And also Mara, the
greatly powerful, will be there, and he also will salute the leader of the
world, and praise him. And, surrounded by his retinue of gods, Brahma
also will proclaim the true Dharma with his heavenly voice. And the entire
earth shall be crowded with Arhats, whose outflows have dried up, who
have got rid of their faults, who have shaken off all the bonds which tie
them to becoming. Joyously the gods, men, Gandharvas, Yakshas, and
Rakshasas worship the teacher, and so do the mighty Dragons. They also
will lose their doubts, and the torrent of their cravings will be cut off: free
from all misery they will manage to cross the ocean of becoming; and, as
a result of Maitreya's teaching, they will lead a holy life. No longer will
they regard anything as their own, they will have no possessions, no gold
or silver, no home, no relatives! But they will lead a holy life of chastity
under Maitreya's guidance. They will have torn the net of the passions,
they will manage to enter into the trances, and theirs will be an
abundance of joy and happiness; for they will lead a holy life under
Maitreya's guidance.

'For 60,000 years Maitreya, the best of men, will preach the true
Dharma, which is compassionate towards all living beings. And when he
has disciplined in his true Dharma hundreds and hundreds of millions of
living beings, then that leader will at last enter Nirvana. And after the
great sage has entered Nirvana, his true Dharma still endures for another
ten thousand years.

'Raise therefore your thoughts in faith to Shakyamuni, the

Conqueror! For then you shall see Maitreya, the perfect Buddha, the best
of men! Whose soul could be so dark that it would not be lit up with a
serene faith when he hears these wonderful things, so potent of future
good! Those therefore who long for spiritual greatness, let them show
respect to the true Dharma, let them be mindful of the religion of the
Buddhas!'

Sources

I I I. Mahavastui. 231—9

2a. Suvarnaprabhasa 206—14, 224

2b. Jatakamala xxviii

p. 181, 17-p. 182, 2
p. 182, 9-11, 14-19
p. 183, 9-14, 21-2
p. 184, 1-9
p. 185, 18-p. 186, 10
p. 191, 20-1

3. Nagarjuna, Maha-prajnaparamitashastra
86c-89c

I 2 Ashvaghosha, Buddhacarita

1. I. 1-15
2. I. 49, 60-1, 68-77
3. II. 18-20, 24-32, 46, 56
4. III. 2-5,26,34-8,40, 45-7, 54, 60-2
5. IV. 85-91, 96-100
6. v. 1-15
7. v. 16-21, 66-8
8. vi. 14-8, 21-2, 43-52
9. xii. 90-106
10. xii. 107-21
11. xiii. 1-6, 71-2
12. XIV. 1-9,47-51, 83-108
13. xv. 1-7, 13
14. xv. 14-25
15. xv. 26-8, 31, 34, 47-51
16. xix. 29-36
17. xx. 56-8; xxi. I
18. xxi. 37-40, 49-53, 65
19. xxiii. 64-75; xxiv. 1-4
20. xxv. 33-4, 54-60, 62-4, 67-81
21. XXVI. 83-6, 88-106
22. XXVII. 52-3, 60-4, 70-9; xxviii. 1-3, 53-4

23. xxviii. 59-62

II I I. Buddhaghosa, Papancasudani Sutta 9, Nos. 7-10. 20-3; p.

198 ff.

2. Sarvastivada Pratimokshasutra: T 1436. i. ii. iv. 18-20, 29; v.

1-8, ii, 29, 40, 45, 54. 59. 61, 73,79, 85

3a. Sutta Nipata 964-75

3b. Sutta Nipata 35-9, 42, 45-6, 50-6, 59-61, 63-75

4. Udanavarga (a) VI Karmavarga (b) ix Shilavarga.

5. Bya chos (The Bud-da's Law among the Birds), pp. 13,17-23,
28-9, 33-6, 46-7

6a. Milindapanha 242-4, 352, 357-9

6b. Milindapanha 177-9

II 2

1. Milindapanha 139-40
2. Shantideva, Bodhicaryavatara: Viii. 1-16, 24, 26-9, 33-4, 38-9
 II 2

3. Ashvaghosha, Saundaranandakaiya xiii. 30-56; xiv. 1-4, 6, 11-

2, 17, 19-20, 22-52; xv. 1-25b,26-63; xvi. 3-10, 13, 16-8, 25-30. 34-46
4. Buddhaghosa, Visuddhimagga in. 74-7, 87-95, 121-2
5. Buddhaghosa, Visuddhimagga Xii. 2, 49, 59-66, 69-70, 80, 82, 87-8,
92, 95, 98, l00, 102, 104, 119, 127-8, 131-3. 135, 137-9; XIII. 2, 9-10,
15-6, 22-5. 73. 79. 100
6a. Sessan Amakuki, On Hokum's Zazen Wasan, 1934. PP. 141-54
6b. Rosen Takashina, Zetto Zemmi, 1953, pp. 23-8

II 3

1. Milindapanha 1. pp. 2, 6, 37
2a. 40-5
2b. 63-5
2c. 112
3. 51-62
4a. 68-70
4b. 317-23 (in part)
4c. 268-71
4d. 44-5, 73-4.76-7, 253-4
5. 420

2. Uridayasutra
3. Vajracchedika 17b, 3, 4, 14e, l0c, 7, 26a, 29, 21a, 25, 6
4. Rahulabhadra, Prajnaparamitastotra
5. Seng-ts'an, Sin sin ming
6. Saraha, Dohakosha vv. 70-112

II 5

1. Vasubandhu, Abhidharmakosha ix. 230, 232-4, 237, 241-2,

249-52, 254-7, 259-61, 270-3
2. Saddharmapundarika ii. 28-9, 32, 36, vv. 42-70; III. 68-76
3a. Milindapanha 236 ff. (abbr.)
3b. Nagarjuna, Mahaprajnaparamitashastra 93b-c
 II 5

4. The Ho-shan's Memorial 127, 129, 130, 132-3, 135-6, 140,

142, 145-5, 154

III I

1. Ashvaghosha, Saundaranandakavya'x. 3—4, 18-21, 24-8, 31-6,

44; xi. 50-8
2. Majjhima Nikaya 130, pp. 182-7
3. Bar-do thos-grol (Summary)
4. Sukhavativyuba 15-9, 21-2, 24, 26-7

III 2

Maitreyavyakarana 1-3, 5-12, 2i-3, 26-7, 29-34, 37-8, 45-50, 56-

62, 68-76, 88-102

This brief list intends merely to help readers to identify the

passages quoted. Those who want to locate their relative position within
the framework of the vast canonical literature of Buddhism are referred to
the lucid survey of the Scriptures, both Hinayana and Mahayana, which is
contained in A Buddhist Student's Manual, edited by Christmas
Humphreys, 1956, pp. 191-260.

Glossary Of Technical Terms

Abhidharmist: A monk who specializes in the 'higher doctrine',

which consists in the analysis of the data of experience in accordance with
a number of traditional categories.
 Analytical Knowledges (four): Four kinds of knowledge of a very
advanced kind which are needed for success in preaching and for
removing the doubts of others.

Ananda: One of Shakyamuni's foremost disciples, distinguished by

his devotion to the person of the Buddha.

Apsarases: Celestial nymphs.

Arhat: The highest kind of Saint, who is exempt from further

rebirth.

Arhatship: The state of an Arhat.

Aryas: Sanskrit for 'Saints' or 'Holy Persons'.

Asuras: Titanic beings, for ever at war with the Gods.

Austere Practices (thirteen): Ascetic practices of special severity,

by which the more zealous monks purify themselves, e.g. they sleep in a
sitting position, live in cemeteries, do not eat after midday, and so on.

Avalokita: The personification of compassion in the Mahayana.

Literally: 'He who looks down from on high'. Avalokiteshvara = the Lord
Avalokita.

Avici Hell: One of the hot hells.

Bodhisattva: A person who wishes to win full enlightenment, or to

become a Buddha. See page 20.

Brahma: A god.

Brahma-world: The heaven of Brahma.

Buddhadharmas: The attributes peculiar to Buddhas. They are

usually given as eighteen (see 'Buddhist Texts', No. 140).
 Deadly Sins (five): Killing (1) mother, (2) father, (3) an Arhat; (4)
causing dissension in the Order; (5) deliberately causing the Tathagata's
blood to flow.

Dharmas, dharmas: (1) The one ultimate Reality; (2) an

ultimately real event; (3) as reflected in life: righteousness, virtue; (4) as
interpreted in the Buddha's teaching: doctrine, Scripture, Truth; (5)
object of the sixth sense-organ, i.e. of mind; (6) property; (7) mental
state; (8) thing; (9) quality. See also page 14.

Dharmas of a Buddha, eighteen Special: See Buddhadharmas.

Dhyana: The state of Transic concentration, of which four stages

are usually distinguished.

Disciple: In Mahayana texts a technical term for the followers of

the Hinayana. See page 209 for its derivation.

Dragons: Nagas.

Ease: Sukha: Not so much positive happiness, as absence of

suffering, annoyance and friction.

Four-Continent: Hindu geography assumes the earth to have four

Continents, of which India is one.

Fruits (four): The four Saints considered at the moment when

their specific achievements have come to fruition.

Gandharva: (1) a heavenly musician; (2) a being about to enter a

womb.

Gnosis: Sanskrit Jnana (see page 15).

Grounds of self-confidence (four): A Buddha's self-confidence is

based on his infallible knowledge that (i) he knows all that is; (2) has
extinguished all Outflows; (3) is acquainted with all hindrances to
emancipation; and (4) all the means for attaining the extinction of
suffering.

Guru: Spiritual preceptor.

Heretical Views (sixty-two): A standard list of false views, or

groundless opinions, e.g. that the world is eternal, that the self comes to
an end, that the Buddha exists after death, etc. (See Digha Nikaya I, 12-
39.)

Hindrances (five): Obstacles to the attainment of trance. They

are: (i) sense-desire; (2) ill-will; (3) sloth and torpor; (4) excitedness and
worry; (5) doubt.

Holy: There is no real equivalent to arya in English. 'Noble' is

perhaps better.

Holy Persons: There are eight, i.e. the four Saints considered (1—
4) at the moment when they enter their Paths, and (5-8) when they reap
their fruit.

Indra: Name of a Hindu God.

Jhana: Pali for Dhyana.

Jina: 'Conqueror', an epithet of the Buddha.

Karma: A volitional action which is either wholesome or

unwholesome, and in consequence either rewarded or punished.

Kasina: A meditational device.

Knowledge, three kinds of: (1) the recollection of former lives; (2)
the knowledge of the rise and fall of beings; (3) the knowledge that the
Outflows are extinct.

Koan: A riddle the solution of which the Rinzai branch of the Zen
sect regards as a road to enlightenment.
 Kos: A distance of about 2 1/2 miles.

Koti: A huge number.

Mahabrahma: Name of a God. Literally: 'Great Brahma".

Mantras: Words of power which work wonders.

Mara: The personification of evil. The Buddhist 'Tempter' whose

baits are the sensory pleasures. Death. Sometimes identified with the five
Skandhas.

Marks of a superman (thirty-two): Physical peculiarities found in a

Buddha's body, as well as that of a Universal Monarch.

Mundane: Belonging to this world, and out of contact with true

reality.

Muni: 'Sage'.

Naga: A serpent or dragon; a bull-elephant.

Never-returner: The third stage of the Path. He no more returns to

this world, and attains Nirvana in one of the heavens.

Nirvana: The ultimate goal of all Buddhist endeavour, the

extinction of craving and separate selfhood, a life which has gone beyond
death.

Once-returner: The second stage of the Path. He will return to this

world no more than seven times.

Outflows (four): (1) sense-desire; (2) desire for becoming; (3)

wrong views; (4) ignorance. Extinction of the outflows constitutes
Arhatship.

Paradise: Heaven.
 Path: The straight and direct road to Nirvana. People can 'tread
the Path' after they have undergone a conversion or spiritual rebirth
which leads to an indifference to worldly things. Only then can the
unconditioned Nirvana become an object of their thoughts and strivings.

Paths (four): Progress along the Path is divided into four stages,
and one speaks of the Path of Streamwinners, Once-returners, Never-
returners and Arhats respectively.

Patimokkha: Pali for Pratimoksha (see page 169).

Perfections (six): The perfection of (1) giving; (2) morality; (3)

patience; (4) vigour; (5) meditation; (6) wisdom.

Person: Sanskrit pudgala.

Places of rebirth (five or six): Among Gods, Asuras, men, animals,

ghosts, or hellish beings.

Powers (ten): This refers to a Buddha's unique intellectual powers,

by which he comprehends what others cannot comprehend. For the list,
see 'Buddhist Texts', No. 116.

Pratyekabuddha: A Buddha who has won enlightenment by

himself, but is unable or unwilling to teach others.

Preta: A hungry ghost.

Raksbasa: A kind of demon.

Saints: Those who have won the Path. The opposite are the
'foolish common people'.

Sainthood: Arhatship.

Samadhi: Sanskrit for 'Transic concentration'.

Samsara: The world of birth and death.

 Samsaric world: Samsara.

Sariputra: One of Shakyamuni's foremost disciples, distinguished

by his wisdom.

Scripture, Ninefold(p. 200), or Twelvefold(p. 215).' An archaic

division of the Scriptures which antecedes their present form.

Sections of monastic morality (four): (1) Restraint by the

Patimokka rules; (2) guarding the senses; (3) purity of livelihood; (4)
circumspect use of all requisites.

Self-existent: An attribute of the Buddha.

Shakyamuni: The 'Sage of the tribe of the Shakyas'. Epithet of the

'historical Buddha'.

Shakra: A name for Indra, 'Chief of Gods'.

Siddhas: Accomplished semi-divine magicians, borrowed from

Hindu mythology.

Sineru: The Pali name for the central world mountain, Sumeru in
Sanskrit.

Skandhas (five): The constituents of the personality: (1) form =

body; (2) feelings; (3) perceptions; (4) volitional impulses; (5)
consciousness.

Special dharmas of a Buddha (eighteen): See Buddhadharmas.

States of existence: Places of rebirth.

States of woe: Rebirth in hell, as an animal, as a ghost, as an

Asura. These rebirths are not only particularly painful, but also futile
because excluding from the study of the Dharma.
 Streamwinner: The first kind of Saint. He has just won the Path,
thereby detaching himself from mundane existence.

Subjects of meditation (forty): A standard list from Buddhaghosa's

'Path to Purity'. See my 'Buddhist Meditation', page 14.

Subsidiary characteristics (eighty): A further list of a Buddha's

physical attributes, added at a later date to the list of the thirty-two
Marks.

Substrata: A technical term occasionally used for the Skandhas,

which are a basis for further becoming.

Suchness: It is reached when things are seen such as they are, in

their bare being, without any distortion.

Sugata: 'Well-Gone', an epithet of the Buddha.

Superknowledges (five or six): (i) wonderworking powers; (2)

heavenly ear; (3) knowledge of the thoughts of others; (4) ability to
recollect one's own previous births; (5) knowledge of the rebirths of other
beings; (6) knowledge that the Outflows are extinct. Supramundane:
Detached from this world, moving towards contact with true reality.

Supramundane Path: The movement towards true reality takes

place on the Path which can be reached only by those who have
transcended the world.

Sutra: A text which claims to have been spoken by the Buddha.

Tathagata: A title of the Buddha. 'He who has thus come', i.e. as
the other Buddhas have come.

Thirty-three, heaven of the: A mythological realm borrowed from

Hinduism. The paradise of Indra.
 Transic concentration: An attitude based on withdrawal from sense
- objects, and concentration on spiritual reality. See my 'Buddhist
meditation pp. 17-21.

Tri-chiliocosm: A cosmic unit, roughly corresponding to what we

call a 'galactic system'.

Triple world: (1) the world of sense-desire; (2) the world of form,
or fine matter; (3) the formless world.

Truths (four): See pages 186-7.

Tushita heaven: The third-lowest heaven in which Bodhisattvas

await their last rebirth.

Vinaya: Discipline, or the 'Book of Discipline'.

Wings to enlightenment (thirty-seven): A list of practices which

carry us to salvation.

Worldly Activity: A term of Indian philosophy, which opposes

Pravritti, the wish to act, to Nivritti, inactivity, the first being pernicious,
the second desirable.

Yaksha: A kind of spirit.

Yama, world of: The Underworld.

The definitions of technical terms in this Glossary are necessarily

very brief, and they may fail to satisfy some readers. More information
about them can be found in the Mahathera Nyanatiloka's Buddhist
Dictionary, or in Har Dayal's The Bodhisattva Doctrine in Buddhist
Literature, 1952.

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