Toh 1-1“The Chapter on Going Forth” from The Chapters on Monastic Discipline

Summary

“The Chapter on Going Forth” is the first of seventeen chapters in The Chapters on Monastic Discipline,
a four-volume work that outlines the statutes and procedures that govern life in a Buddhist monastic community. This first chapter traces
the development of the rite by which postulants were admitted into the monastic order, from the Buddha Śākyamuni’s informal invitation to
“Come, monk,” to the more elaborate “Present Day Rite.” Along the way, the posts of preceptor and instructor are introduced, their
responsibilities defined, and a dichotomy between elders and immature novices described. While the heart of the chapter is a transcript of
the “Present Day Rite,” the text is interwoven with numerous narrative asides, depicting the spiritual ferment of the north Indian region of
Magadha during the Buddha’s lifetime, the follies of untrained and unsupervised apprentices, and the need for a formal system of
tutelage.

「律本事」，又稱「律儀根本」或「毘奈耶事」，是一部關於佛教徒行儀與戒律的典籍，其中還包含了豐富的故事、寓言和歷史。

「律本事」中的「出家本事」部分，說明出家人的行儀與戒律。其中也包括了佛陀兩位重要弟子舍利弗和目犍蓮的傳記。

Acknowledgements

This translation was carried out from the Tibetan by Robert Miller with the guidance of Geshé Tséwang Nyima. Ven. Lhundup Damchö (Dr.
Diana Finnegan) provided her draft translation of the extant Sanskrit portions of this chapter. Dr. Fumi Yao and Maurice Ozaine kindly
identified numerous misspellings and mistakes in the glossaries. Both Ven. Damchö and Dr. Yao generously shared their extensive knowledge of
the Mūlasarvāstivādin Vinaya and furnished invaluable assistance in researching the translation. Matthew Wuethrich served as style
consultant and editor.

The translation was completed under the patronage and supervision of 84000: Translating the Words of the Buddha.

The generous sponsorship of Zhou Tian Yu, Chen Yi Qin, Irene Tillman, Archie Kao, and Zhou Xun, which helped make the work on this
translation possible, is most gratefully acknowledged.

Introduction

The Vinaya

According to traditional accounts, after the Buddha had entered parinirvāṇa, the elder Kāśyapa proposed that the
Blessed One’s teachings be recited for posterity. During the rains retreat at Rājagṛha that followed, Kāśyapa asked the
venerable Upāli to recall the Buddha’s pronouncements on monastic discipline and the venerable Ānanda to recite the Buddha’s discourses.
One hundred years later, a second council was convened at Vaiśālī to resolve disagreements that had arisen in relation to the code of
monastic discipline, or vinaya.

Shortly after the Second Council, the monastic community split into two factions, “the Elders” (Skt. Sthavira) and “the Majority” (Skt. Mahāsāṃghika). In time, for reasons of discipline, doctrine, or geography, the two factions branched further into
eighteen schools. Among these were the Mūlasarvāstivādins.

Although there is, as yet, no scholarly consensus on the exact origins of this school, we know the
Mūlasarvāstivādins were well established in northwest India, between Mathura, Kashmir, and Gandhāra, during the Kuṣāṇa Kingdom’s zenith
in the second and third centuries ce. We also know that they eventually compiled the longest of the six
complete codes of monastic discipline still available to us.

The Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya

The Mūlasarvāstivādins’ monastic code is comprised of several texts, which Tibetans,
the foremost inheritors of this tradition, group into the “Four Scriptural Divisions of the Vinaya”: the Vinayavastu, Vinayavibhaṅga, Kṣudrakavastu, and Uttaragrantha. The Vinayavastu details the statutes and procedures that
govern the institutions of monastic community life. The Vinayavibhaṅga narrates the circumstances that
prompted the formulation of each of the monastic vows given in the Prātimokṣasūtra. The Kṣudrakavastu discusses miscellaneous minutiae of monastic life under eight headings. The Uttaragrantha, in its complete form, contains eleven texts including Upāli’s questions to the Buddha
regarding monastic discipline, along with the Vinītaka, the Nidāna,
and the Kathāvastu.

Though similar in general outline to most of the other extant monastic codes, the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya is more eclectic in
content and character. It is no dry legal code or mere vade mecum for disciplinary measures. Instead it is a rich bricolage of stories, discourses, ritual handbooks,
community guidelines, and catalogs of monastic discipline, with passages and texts from a diverse range of genres like sūtra, avadāna, and nidāna.

The Vinayavastu

The first of the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya’s four Scriptural Divisions is the Vinayavastu. A
partial translation into Chinese, containing at least seven of the chapters, was made by the Chinese monk Yijing, in the late seventh to
early eighth centuries ce, but the only complete redaction of all seventeen chapters of the Vinayavastu is the ninth-century translation into Tibetan made by Palgyi Lhünpo under the guidance of the
Kashmiri preceptor Sarvajñādeva, the Indian preceptor Vidyākaraprabha, and the Kashmiri preceptor Dharmākara. Their work was later
proofread and finalized by Vidyākaraprabha and the translator/editor Paltsek.

For centuries the Vinayavastu, and indeed much of the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya, was known only
through these Tibetan and Chinese translations, or from thematic excerpts like the Divyāvadāna, and
all Sanskrit manuscripts of the full text appeared to have disappeared without a trace. Then, in 1931, a cowherd from a small village
near Gilgit dug up one of many mounds dotting his community’s pasturelands. He was looking for wood, which could sometimes be found at
such sites, but instead stumbled upon a large chamber littered with coin-like clay tablets. Thinking he had
disturbed a grave, he grew scared and fled. Word of his find spread quickly and before long a more intrepid local went in search of
treasure. What he found was a wooden chest of Buddhist manuscripts dating from the fifth or sixth century ce,
which wound up in the hands of the district headman in whose possession Sir Aurel Stein found them. After two
further excavations and much work by both European and South Asian scholars, Nalinaksha Dutt edited and
published the finds as The Gilgit Manuscripts. Most of the vinaya manuscripts enshrined in the
reliquary near Gilgit come from the Vinayavastu.

Although large portions of the Vinayavastu in Sanskrit were thus recovered in the Gilgit
manuscripts, the ninth-century Tibetan translation remains the only complete version known today, and it is primarily on the basis of
the Tibetan that the translations to be published here have been, and are being, made. The present translation is of the first chapter,
and subsequent chapters will appear in due course.

The Vinayavastu is similar in its themes to the Theravādin Khandhaka (Skt. Skandhaka) still extant in Pali. Both detail the communal rites, formal procedures, and disciplinary measures that give order and coherence to
the monastic community as well as the types of clothes, food, shelter, and medicine allowed community members. To appropriate Prebish’s useful
explanation of the differences between the Skandhaka and Sūtravibhaṅga and apply it
here by way of analogy, while the Vinayavibhaṅga describes the vows that govern individual behavior,
the Vinayavastu spells out the rules that govern communal behavior. This communal emphasis is
immediately apparent when one considers the contents of the Vinayavastu’s seventeen chapters:

1. The Pravrajyāvastu (The Chapter on Going Forth) details
the development of the rite by which one goes forth and becomes a Buddhist monk.

2. The Poṣadhavastu (The Chapter on the Restoration Rite)
describes the twice-monthly poṣadha ceremony.

3. The Pravāraṇavastu (The Chapter on Lifting
Restrictions) describes the pravāraṇa ceremony in which restrictions
adopted for the rains retreat are lifted, marking the end of the rains retreat.

4. The Varṣāvastu (The Chapter on the Rains) describes the
timing and procedures for the annual rains retreat.

5. The Carmavastu (The Chapter on Leather) details the
rules regarding the use of leather hides for clothing, footwear, bedding, and seating.

6. The Bhaiṣajyavastu (The Chapter on Medicines) discusses
the medicines allowed monastics, such as ghee, sesame oil, honey, and molasses; what monastics should not consume, such as human
flesh; and related subjects, such as how medicine should be stored, under what circumstances monastics are allowed to cook for
themselves, and how to respond to a hostile doctor.

7. The Cīvaravastu (The Chapter on Robes) describes the
types of material suitable to be turned into robes, such as silk, cotton, wool, linen, hemp, dugūla, koṭampa, and Aparāntin cloth, and presents specifications about the shape and form of those
robes.

8. The Kaṭhinavastu (The Chapter on Turning Cloth into
Robes) describes the rules regulating the acceptance of cloth and turning it into robes.

9. The Kauśāmbakavastu (The Chapter on the Monks of
Kauśāmbī) outlines the procedures adopted to arbitrate disputes and allows for expulsion from the saṅgha community.
These procedures were formulated in the wake of a major dispute that arose when the monks of Kauśāmbī expelled a group of monks
from Vaiśālī.

10. The Karmavastu (The Chapter on Formal Acts of the
Saṅgha) gives a short summary of the one hundred and one different official acts that require the saṅgha community’s
sanction. These acts all fall into one of three categories depending on the procedure needed for ratification: acts of motion
alone require only a motion; acts whose second member is a motion require a motion followed by the statement of the act; and
acts whose fourth member is a motion require a motion followed by the statement of the act, repeated three times.

11. The Pāṇḍulohitakavastu (The Chapter on a Group of Troublesome
Monks) details the five types of disciplinary acts that may be imposed on intransigent monastics, such as censure,
chastening, expulsion, reconciliation, and suspension. Its name derives from the site of a dispute in which quarrelsome monks
refused to admit to their guilt.

12. The Pudgalavastu (The Chapter on Types of Persons)
details appropriate and inappropriate times for the confession of breaches in discipline.

13. The Pārivāsikavastu (The Chapter on Penitents)
describes how to discipline, through the imposition of probations and penances, a monk who has incurred a saṅgha remnant
offense. This chapter also allows for such a monk’s reinstatement as a full member of the community upon successful completion
of a probation and penance.

14. The Poṣadhasthāpanavastu (The Chapter on the Suspension of the Restoration Rite) describes the circumstances in which the restoration
rite may be suspended and details the restrictions on who is allowed to participate in the restoration.

15. The Śayanāsanavastu (The Chapter on Shelter) discusses
the types of shelter suitable for monastics, such as temples, multi-story buildings, verandas, sheds, wooden huts, earthen and
rock caves, grass huts, and so on.

16. The Adhikaraṇavastu (The Chapter on Disputes)
discusses the seven means to resolve disputes that arise from disagreements over the Buddha’s teachings, reproaches regarding
another monk’s conduct, offenses, or acts of saṅgha.

17. The Saṅghabhedavastu (The Chapter on Schism in the
Saṅgha) narrates at length the Buddha’s youth, awakening, and ministry, as well as the schism prompted by Devadatta.

The above are but summaries of each chapter’s ostensible themes. In several cases, most notably the Bhaiṣajyavastu and the Saṅghabhedavastu, avadāna narratives and important events in the Buddha’s life figure far more prominently than any discussion of communal
guidelines on medicine, schisms, or the like. Those interested in detailed summaries of each chapter can find them in Csoma de Körös’s
Analysis of the Dulva, Banerjee’s Sarvāstivāda Literature, and Dutt’s
introductions to his Gilgit Manuscripts. For now, suffice it to say that the Vinayavastu has the same eclectic make-up that scholars have come to associate with the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya in general,
and that distinguishes it from the other extant monastic codes.

The Chapter on Going Forth

The first chapter of the Vinayavastu, translated here, is “The Chapter on Going Forth.” It
describes how the rite of going forth, the formal rejection of household life and entry into the Buddhist order of renunciants, went
from a simple and open invitation extended by the Buddha in person to an elaborate rite with admission criteria that could be performed
by any monk with sufficient knowledge and reliability.

The chapter can be broadly divided into thirds. The first third of the text (“Śāriputra”) tells the story of Śāriputra and
Maudgalyāyana’s spiritual search. It provides the historical background for the rise of the Buddhist order against a backdrop of other
renunciant orders active in the eastern Gangetic basin in the fifth century bce. The middle third (“Going Forth” through “Querying Upasena”) describes the three stages the admission rite underwent as
the order grew, from the earliest “Come, monk” ordinations, through the Early Rite, and on to the Present Day Rite. The last third (“Tīrthikas” through “Persons Whose Hands Have Been Cut Off”) describes the circumstances that
led to the adoption of the Present Day Rite’s admission criteria.

Throughout these three sections a number of important themes can be discerned: the opposition between śramaṇa ascetics and brāhmaṇa
householders, the existence of a fecund religious scene at the time of
the Buddha, the need for official procedures and positions as the Buddhist monastic community grew from an informal group of followers
into a spiritual corporation, the importance of a monastic apprenticeship, and the recognition that some people are not suited to life
as a Buddhist renunciant.

Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana’s Spiritual Search

“The Chapter on Going Forth” begins in earnest with the story of how Upatiṣya and Kolita came to join the Buddhist order.
These two, under the names Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, would go on to become the foremost of the Buddha’s disciples. But to begin with
they are just young brahmins, well-schooled in Vedic learning and assured of bright futures. In time Upatiṣya proves himself to be a
brilliant interpreter of the Vedas, while Kolita, a talented teacher in his own right, is expected to succeed his father as royal priest
to the King of Rājagṛha. Though each hears of the other’s reputation from their young brahmin students, they do not meet until the feast
of the nāga kings Giri and Valguka, where they recognize one another as kindred spirits. After securing their parents’ consent, they
forego their given destinies and set off in search of a renunciant order to join.

At the time, Rājagṛha and its surroundings are teeming with renunciant orders, and the two spiritual seekers quickly secure
audiences with six of the leading tīrthika teachers. The pair questions each teacher about his practice and philosophy, and
each is found to teach a ruinous path and rejected. Eventually Upatiṣya and Kolita come across the teacher Sañjayin who, they are told, has
“withdrawn into seclusion.” Duly impressed, they are won over and join his order upon hearing his philosophy—that “the Dharma is truth
and nonviolence; the peaceful, ageless, immortal, and unwaning state is Brahman.” Before long, however, Sañjayin passes away and the two
move on, bringing the first section to a conclusion.

On first encounter this section is disorienting. It begins by meandering through an account of the struggle between the
kingdoms of Aṅga and Magadha, with a brief interlude describing the Buddha’s birth, before tracing the rise of two brahmins named
Māṭhara and Tiṣya. Only after thirty pages of war and genealogy do we meet the two main protagonists. To appreciate the purpose of this
long prologue, one must step back to view the Vinayavastu as a whole and understand that interwoven
through the text’s seventeen chapters is one of the most extensive biographies of the Buddha available in any language. These first episodes,
then, are more than mere diversion; they are the first installments of an epic tale that takes shape over the Vinayavastu’s 2,500 pages.

From a literary perspective, this first chapter exemplifies the Vinayavastu’s composite
nature, where history sits embedded between parable and
technical manual. While we know almost nothing about by whom, how, or why this text was compiled in this way, this synthesis is not
likely to be ad hoc or random. Rather, diverse elements are drawn in and made to serve a range of purposes. The tale of the six tīrthika
teachers, for example, fulfills narrative, partisan, and historical ends. Narratively, it explains how Upatiṣya and Kolita eventually
came to the Buddha’s order. In its telling, it emphasizes their exacting standards so that their rejection of each teacher’s philosophy
and eventual embrace of the Buddha’s implies the superiority of the Buddhist order.

Historically speaking, it surveys the spiritual landscape of Greater Magadha at the time of the Buddha. Though the text does not
emphasize the connections, scholars have linked several of the tīrthika teachers to the major non-Vedic orders of the day: Jñātiputra is
better known as Mahāvīra, leader of the Nirgrantha Jain order and the last Jain Tīrthankara; Gośālīputra was a prominent Ājīvika
leader; Ajita may have been an important Cārvāka teacher; and Pūraṇa has been called the foremost of five hundred Ājīvikas, though the philosophy attributed to him here
resembles neither Gośālīputra’s fatalism nor that of the Digambara Jains whom Buddhists sometimes referred to as Ājīvikas.

The Rite of Admission into the Renunciant Order

The second third of the text describes the way the admission rite changed as the Buddha’s renunciant order grew. A short
interlude under the heading “Querying Upasena” then spells out the terms of a new monk’s apprenticeship to a more senior monk and
provides criteria to determine when a monk is sufficiently established in his ordination to live as a teacher and act as a preceptor or instructor himself.

Those familiar with the modern-day ordination rite may be surprised by the original rite’s simplicity. Postulants, personified
by Upatiṣya and Kolita in this chapter, would ask the Buddha for permission to join his order. With the words, “Come, monks. Live the
holy life,” the Buddha admitted them into his order and ordained them monks. This simple invitation is known as the “ordination by
saying, ‘Monk, come.’ ”

But as the Buddha’s fame grew, it became less practicable for the Buddha himself to accept and ordain every postulant. While the
rite itself was simple enough, anyone wanting to go forth had to see the Buddha in person, which for some meant a long and arduous
journey. When the Buddha heard that a postulant coming to see him had died on the way, he permitted the saṅgha to admit new members and
ordain them.

The monks, not knowing how to admit and ordain postulants, asked the Blessed One about it, and he responded by prescribing a
short but formalized rite now known as the “Early Rite.” The new rite required postulants to request the saṅgha three times, after which
an officiant monk would move that the saṅgha act on the request. By remaining silent, the saṅgha signaled its
assent, and the postulant was formally admitted to the order and ordained a monk.

Since the Early Rite permitted monks to accept new members but made no provisions for training them, the new rite solved a
logistical problem but did nothing to address an equally, if not more, pressing problem: helping new members establish themselves in a
new code of conduct and a new way of life. Consequently, some new monks had no sense of decorum and were poorly behaved. Local brahmins
and householders even complained of being harassed by them. The new monks would come to town to beg alms, disheveled and improperly
dressed, speaking shrilly in loud voices, behaving wildly, and demanding they be fed.

When a monk fell ill and died for lack of someone to nurse him, the elder monks felt obliged to take action. Such gross neglect
of one’s fellow brahmacārin was too much and the saṅgha asked the Buddha to intervene. After some consideration, the Buddha created the
positions of preceptor and instructor and charged the monks in those roles with the responsibility of ordaining and instructing new
monks.

But again the monks found themselves in a quandary, not knowing how to admit and ordain postulants, and so again they asked the
Buddha. This time, the Buddha prescribed a longer and more formal rite of admission and ordination, with stricter acceptance criteria
and a novel division of the community into lay vow holders, novices, and monks. This rite pertains to the present day and is known in
the tradition as the “Present Day Rite.”

The Present Day Rite codified a hierarchy in the Buddhist renunciant order, through which a postulant gains admission into the
order, is inducted into the novitiate, and is ordained a monk. An outline of the ritual found in the text is given in the appendix, “An
Outline of the Ordination Rite.”

Admission Criteria

The final third of the text goes back in time to examine the circumstances that prompted the introduction of a screening process
for postulants. The exclusionary criteria, deemed “impediments to ordination,” are all explained by origin stories (Tib. gleng gzhi, Skt. nidāna), as exemplified by
the chapter “Creatures.”

This chapter, by far the longest in the section, tells the story of Saṅgharakṣita, ostensibly to explain why
creatures—specifically nāgas that can assume human form—are not allowed to join the Buddhist renunciant order. Several lesser origin
stories, explaining, for instance, what a monk administrator can be expected to account for and why a monk should not teach without
first being asked to do so, are enfolded into the greater story of Saṅgharakṣita and the nāga monk.

This section also contains several avadāna, most notably in the story of how a
shape-shifting nāga gained the karma to become a monk. Avadāna are didactic stories (or
“karmic histories”) that explain a given circumstance in light of the past act that brought it about. Other examples of avadāna from this section include what happens when monks fight over food, deface saṅgha
property, and withhold food and drink from other monks.

The layering does not end there, either. A Vedic seer’s sarcastic remark about Buddhist monks’ propensity to preach at the
slightest provocation becomes the pretext for Saṅgharakṣita’s teaching the Nagaropama Sūtra, while
Saṅgharakṣita’s efforts to establish the Buddha’s teachings in the land of nāgas becomes a chance to discuss the Sūtra Piṭaka’s “Four
Divisions of the Discourses.”

The intertwining of genres seen in Saṅgharakṣita’s story is probably the best example in the present chapter of the
Mūlasarvāstivādin Vinaya’s bricolage composition and the way stories, sūtras, and catalogs of monastic discipline are woven into a
narrative meant to both instruct and inspire.

Academic Work and Prior Translations

In 1983, Helmut Eimer published a critical edition of the Tibetan, and a study in German, of “The Chapter on Going Forth” but
did not attempt a translation.

Soon afterwards, in a series of four articles, Claus Vogel and Klaus Wille published a carefully revised edition of the Sanskrit
fragments of the Pravrajyāvastu recovered in Gilgit. They scrupulously annotated the editorial process to produce an edition that, in contrast to earlier Sanskrit
editions, is free of reconstructions and indicates clearly the uncertainties created by damage to, or missing portions of, the original
manuscripts. They also incorporated further fragments of the manuscript that had not been definitively identified at the time previous
Sanskrit editions were prepared. The fragments fall into two groups: those from the beginning of the chapter (Sanskrit folios 2–12), and
those toward the end (folios 43–53). Together these Sanskrit fragments correspond to about one hundred of the 261 pages of the chapter
in the Degé Kangyur. To place the fragments in their proper context, Vogel also translated relevant sections of the text, from the
Tibetan for the portions corresponding to folios 2–12, and from the Sanskrit for the portions corresponding to folios 43–53.

In the present translation, the exact correlations between the Sanskrit and the Tibetan are noted in the form of folio
references to Vogel and Wille’s edition (folio numbers preceded by S) as well as the usual folio references to the Tibetan of the Degé
(preceded by F).

Andy Rotman has translated from Sanskrit many of the avadāna narratives to be
found in the Divyāvadāna, a collection of such stories compiled in Nepal and dating probably to the
seventeenth century. The individual stories in the Divyāvadāna very closely match equivalent passages
in the Vinayavastu or, in some cases, other sections of the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya. In the present
first chapter, the only parallels to the Divyāvadāna are the narratives of Saṅgharakṣita and the
shape-shifting nāga, which can be found translated in Rotman’s second volume. There are several other translations of the same passage from the Divyāvadāna.

The Language of Renunciation

One of the difficulties in translating vinaya texts lies in finding appropriate English equivalents for the language of Buddhist
monasticism. In several instances we have borrowed terms from Christianity such as “ordination” and “monk,” even though they may only
bear a superficial similarity to their Buddhist analogs. Another difficulty lies in the historical fact that the language of Buddhist renunciation was adapted
from a body of terms and ideas common among Greater Magadhan ascetic communities in the sixth and fifth centuries bce. As is to be expected when different religious communities employ the same words,
they come to have unique connotations, the most relevant of which we might now consider.

First and foremost is the term pravrajyā, which in its widest application
referred to the act of “going forth,” that is, renouncing the settled life of a householder to live as a
wandering ascetic. In pre-Buddhist India, the act of going forth often took a ritual form and was made
dramatically visible “by shaving off the hair and beard and laying aside the layman’s dress, to cover oneself with rags, with bark or
hemp, or to wander in the nude.” In the present
translation, we render pravrajyā (Tib. rab tu
’byung ba) as “to go forth” (or, in a small number of cases, “to join the renunciant order”) while one who goes forth
(Tib. rab byung) is a “renunciant.”

In the Pravrajyāvastu, we meet several Vedic and non-Vedic ascetics who have undertaken
pravrajyā. Some, such as Gośālīputra and the Lokāyata ascetic Dīrghanakha, are
described as “wandering mendicants” or parivrājaka, but those who join the Buddha’s order are
described as śramaṇa, translated here as “ascetic.” The term śramaṇa,
from the verbal root śram meaning “to toil,” was used to describe non-Vedic ascetics,
especially Buddhist and Jain ones. In our text, it is
applied repeatedly to both the Buddha and his followers, as when an older man posing as a monk challenges the authenticity of the
Buddha’s ordained status by asking, “Who is the śramaṇa Gautama’s preceptor?” and in
the phrase “the śramaṇa sons of the Śākya.”

The Buddha’s followers accepted this as an appropriate designation, as when Śāriputra says to Buddharakṣita, “It is those who
issue from people like you that become my śramaṇa attendants.” As the Buddha himself
also frequently referred to his community as śramaṇa, it is not surprising that the
term chosen to describe “novice” śramaṇa was śrāmaṇera , the diminutive form of śramaṇa.

Ascetic sons of the Śākya who ordained were called bhikṣu. This term, too, was
used outside the Buddhist tradition. Gautama, the brahmin author of the Gautama Dharmasūtra, gives
bhikṣu, meaning “mendicant,” as the third of four lifestyles open to followers of
the Vedas. In this context, a mendicant was either an ascetic
who relied on alms (partly or fully provided by relatives) or a hermit who had severed all ties with his former worldly life.

Another phrase that points to a shared language among ascetics is the term brahmacaryā, rendered here as “to live the holy life.” This phrase appears repeatedly in this chapter in stock passages,
most significantly in the Buddha’s invitation, “Come, monk. Live the holy life,” and in the remark made by those who have attained
arhatship: “My births have come to an end, I have lived the holy life, I have done what needed doing, I will know no lives after this
one.”

The phrase also figures prominently in Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana’s questions for the six tīrthika teachers: “What is the
result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?” Although the exact meaning of the phrase is never spelled out, the commentator
Kalyāṇamitra glosses it as a life of “hardships” or “austerities.” Kalyāṇamitra’s interpretation is probably best understood as an explanation of Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana’s
assumptions about what it meant to “live the holy life.” For, as a Jain, Jñātiputra would certainly have equated “the holy life” with
austerities, but it is not certain whether any of the other five would have. It does, however, seem
likely that many of these teachers would have understood “the holy life” to entail celibacy; and that is how the term is now understood
in the Buddhist tradition, where a lay vow holder who takes a vow of celibacy is described as a brahmacārin upāsaka (Tib. tshangs spyod dge bsnyen).

Among followers of the Vedas during the Buddha’s lifetime, brahmacaryā referred
to a student’s apprenticeship to a teacher. It was expected that a student live “a holy life,” which implied celibacy.

The Translation

The present translation is based on the Tibetan text in the Degé Kangyur, with reference to the text in other Kangyurs as
detailed in the endnotes. Ven. Lhundup Damchö’s draft translation of the extant Sanskrit found in Nalinaksha Dutt’s Gilgit Manuscripts, together with Claus Vogel and Klaus Wille’s revised Sanskrit edition and translation, were used as
guides to check for variations between the Tibetan and Sanskrit. Although there are numerous differences between the Tibetan and
Sanskrit manuscripts, very few of them bear significantly on the overall understanding of the text. We have chosen to note only the most
important divergences and, for the rest, would refer readers to Vogel and Wille’s works.

A great many of our translation choices are based on glosses given by the late eighth-century master Kalyāṇamitra in his Extensive Commentary on The Chapters of Discipline. On the whole, Kalyāṇamitra’s citations mirror the relevant passages from the root text. However, there is enough
variation between the root text and his commentary—direct quotations purportedly from the root text which have no correlate in any of
the Tibetan redactions, important passages of the root text not glossed in the commentary, differences in key terms—to suggest
Kalyāṇamitra may have been working from a different edition of the Vinayavastu than that which was
available to the Tibetan translators and their Indian informants. And although it does not bear directly on the present work, it should also be noted that the Tibetan translation of
Kalyāṇamitra’s commentary appears to be incomplete. Presumably, Kalyāṇamitra commented on all seventeen chapters of the Vinayavastu, but the Degé, Coné, and Narthang editions of his commentary all end abruptly after the
thirteenth fascicle, four pages into his comments on the Vinayavastu’s third chapter, the Pravāraṇāvastu.

The Vinayavastu contains a great deal of repetition. Such repetition ranges in length from
short, stock phrases to an entire chapter in which the only change is in the gender of a single character (see “Matricide” and
“Patricide”). Aiming to retain the original work’s style and flavor, which may point to its oral origins, in accordance with 84000’s
editorial policies we have avoided the temptation to elide these repetitive passages. On the other hand, we have tried in places to help
the reader by inserting proper names in places where the original provides only pronouns.

Though technically the present work is the first of the Vinayavastu’s seventeen chapters, we
have chosen to break the “chapter” into parts based on the list of contents found in the prologue and those parts into chapters based on
the indices found at the start of each section.

In the chapter on the ordination rite itself, the Tibetan text gives a short heading for each part of the ritual at the
end of the relevant section. To assist the reader and conform to English typographical norms, we have placed the heading at
the start of the relevant section.

In closing, we ask forbearance for whatever mistakes and omissions the translation contains.

The Translation

The Chapters on Monastic Discipline

Prologue to The Chapters on Monastic Discipline

Homage to the Three Jewels.

Homage to him who severed the bonds,

Destroyed the whole host of tīrthikas,

Vanquished the armies of Māra,

And thus discovered this awakening.

To begin with, it is hard to renounce a householder’s concerns and go forth.

Having gone forth, it is hard to find happiness in wandering.

It is hard to do well what one pledged to with delight.

It is hard for a skilled wearer of the ochre robes to fail.

The Chapters on Monastic Discipline includes chapters on:

Going forth, restoration,

Lifting restrictions, the rains, leather,

Medicine, robes, turning cloth into robes,

The monks of Kauśāmbī, formal acts of saṅgha,

A group of troublesome monks, types of persons,

Probations, suspension of the restoration,

Housing, disputes, and schisms in the saṅgha.

The Chapter on Going Forth

Prologue to The Chapter on Going Forth

The whole of The Chapter on Going Forth

Is told in sections on:

Śāriputra,

tīrthikas,

The

two novices,

scaring a crow,

Killing an arhat, and

missing hands.

Śāriputra

The Śāriputra section is told over five chapters:

Śāriputra,

going forth,

refuge,

a summary of Upasena’s collection, and

a summary of the fives.

Śāriputra

While the Bodhisattva was dwelling in the Abode of Tuṣita, the King of Aṅga ruled over the lands of Aṅga.
Under his rule, the kingdom prospered and thrived, crops were bountiful and the land teemed with animals and
people. Meanwhile, King Mahāpadma ruled over the lands of Magadha. Under his rule, the
kingdom prospered and thrived, crops were bountiful and the land teemed with animals and people. At times, the
King of Aṅga and his armies were dominant. At other times, King Mahāpadma and his armies were dominant.

At a time when the King of Aṅga and his armies were dominant, he called up the four branches of his
armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the charioteer corps, and the infantry—and laid waste to all of
Magadha, save Rājagṛha, before returning.

At a time when King Mahāpadma and his armies were dominant, he too called up the four branches of his
armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the charioteer corps, and the infantry—and laid waste to all of Aṅga, save Campā, before returning.

At yet another time when the King of Aṅga and his armies were dominant, he again called up the four
branches of his armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the charioteer corps, and the infantry—and began again to lay waste to
the land of Magadha, prompting the people of Magadha to send a message to King Mahāpadma, saying, “Your Majesty,
the King of Aṅga has called up the four branches of his armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the charioteer corps, and the
infantry—and is laying waste to the lands of Magadha.”

When King Mahāpadma heard this, he too called up the four branches of his armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the
charioteer corps, and the infantry—and rode out to meet the King of Aṅga in battle.

The King of Aṅga captured King Mahāpadma’s entire elephant corps and proceeded to capture the whole of his cavalry,
charioteer corps, and infantry. Defeated and frightened, destroyed and conquered, King Mahāpadma retreated. Entering Rājagṛha, he
closed the gates and shut himself up within the walls of his fortress.

The King of Aṅga sent an envoy to King Mahāpadma with the message, “It would be good were you to come out. If you do not
surrender, and instead take flight into the sky above, I will fell you with a volley of arrows. Tunnel beneath the earth and I will
yank you up as if with a hook. Flee to the mountaintops, and even there you shall find no escape.”

King Mahāpadma was unsettled by the message he heard. Head in hands, he sat and sat, absorbed in thought. Then he said to his ministers, “Gentlemen, this King of Aṅga is belligerent, ruthless, and his military might is great. If he
gives an order, how can we not obey?”

They spoke in verse:

“When land and life are threatened,

Seek always to protect life.

When the wise look at both, they see

Land, but not life, can be found again.”

They then implored him, “Your Majesty, any way you look at it, you must go out!”

King Mahāpadma hung his sword from his neck in surrender and went out, where the King of Aṅga imposed an annual tribute and
tax upon him.

While the blessed Bodhisattva was dwelling in the Abode of Tuṣita, he saw five sights and thrice gave notice
to the six classes of gods who revel in the desire realm. Assuming an elephant’s appearance, he entered his mother’s womb as the
earth shook and this world and all others too were bathed in a vast light more luminous than the glow of the
gods of the Thirty-Three. So great was this miraculous manifestation, it was as if the sun and moon shone in the gulf between
worlds. So great was its strength that darkness
everywhere, even the pitch-black darkness of dark places dark from never knowing the light of the sun and moon, was filled with a
vast light. Beings born in those places had never even seen so far as their outstretched hands, yet by this light these beings saw
one another and exclaimed, “You there! There are others who have been born here! There are others who have been born here!”

At the same time as the blessed Bodhisattva was born, sons were also born to four great kings in four great city-states. In
Rājagṛha the son of King Mahāpadma was born. In Śrāvastī the son of King Arāḍa Brahmadatta was born. In Ujjayinī the son of King Anantanemi was born. In Kauśāmbī the son of King Śatānīka was
born.

When the blessed Bodhisattva was born, the entire universe was bathed in a vast light more luminous
than the glow of the gods of the Thirty-Three. So great was this miraculous manifestation, it was as if the sun and moon shone in
the gulf between worlds. So great was its strength that darkness everywhere, even the pitch-black darkness of dark places dark from
never knowing the light of the sun and moon, was filled with a vast light. Beings born in those places had never even seen so far as
their outstretched hands, yet by this light these beings saw one another and exclaimed, “You there! There are others who have been
born here! There are others who have been born here!”

King Mahāpadma thought, “When my son was born, the world was lit as if by the gold of the rising sun. And as he is the son
of Queen Bimbī (Goldie), I shall name this prince Bimbisāra (Essence of Gold).” And so the boy was named Bimbisāra.

King Arāḍa Brahmadatta thought, “When my son was born, the world was lit as if by the light of lights, so I shall name this
prince Prasenajit (Supreme Light).” And so the boy was named Prasenajit.

King Śatānīka thought, “When my son was born, the world was lit as if by the rising sun, so I shall name this prince Udayana
(Rising).” And so the boy was named Udayana.

King Anantanemi thought, “When my son was born, the world was lit by a brilliant light, so I shall name this prince Pradyota
(Brilliant Light).” And so the boy was named Pradyota.

And so each king attributed the light to the birth of his own son. Though each attributed it to his own son, it was not so. For all that occurred, occurred
because of the Bodhisattva.

On the very same day that Prince Bimbisāra was born, five hundred sons of five hundred ministers were also born and were
given names appropriate to their patrilineage.

Prince Bimbisāra was entrusted to eight nursemaids: two to
cuddle him, two to breastfeed him, two to change his diapers, and two to play with him. Fortified with milk, curd, butter, ghee, cream, and other nourishing foods, he
grew quickly, shooting up like a lotus in a pond. When he was old enough, he was introduced to letters, number
names, calculation, counting by hand, expenditures, revenues, and deposits. After he finished letters, he became skilled in exegesis, recitation, knowledge, proper conduct, and the
way to assess gems, sites, fabrics, woods, elephants, horses, women, and men.

He trained in and mastered the different fields of arts and skills of anointed kṣatriya kings, or a
ruler of the realm endowed with the might and vigor to conquer the wide face of the earth, such as riding on the neck of an
elephant, riding horseback, charioteering, swordsmanship, archery, advancing, yielding, wielding a hook, throwing a lasso, casting a
spear, and how to hold a weapon, march, tie a topknot,
slash, quarter, pierce, and strike in five ways—striking from a
distance, striking a target using acoustic location, striking a fatal blow, striking without hesitation, and striking forcefully.

These arts and skills were also mastered by the five hundred sons of the five hundred ministers.

Bimbisāra’s father enrolled him in the eighteen guilds, due to which he was named and became known as Bimbisāra of the
Guilds.

Later Prince Bimbisāra set out astride an elephant where he saw the King of Aṅga’s officers collecting tributes and taxes,
prompting him to inquire of his men, “Gentlemen, for whom are these tributes and taxes being collected?”

“Your Majesty! For the King of Aṅga.”

“What? Will we be offered tribute?”

“No, Your Majesty, we are the ones to offer the tribute.”

“Gentlemen, summon those officers.”

When the officers were summoned, he said, “Gentlemen, the King of Aṅga is crowned and an anointed
kṣatriya king. If I too am crowned and an anointed a kṣatriya king, why is it you are collecting tributes and taxes
here? I forbid you to collect tributes and taxes from this day forth.”

“The prince fails to appreciate the situation,” they thought. “Let us go submit the matter to King Mahāpadma.”

They went to King Mahāpadma and said, “Your Majesty, when we officers of the King of Aṅga were collecting tributes and
taxes, Prince Bimbisāra stopped us from doing so. Shall we collect them or not?”

“Gentlemen, the prince doesn’t understand the situation. Continue to collect tributes and taxes as you have
done before.”

They had begun their collection again when Prince Bimbisāra
spotted them on their way back and said, “Gentlemen, have I not already prohibited you from collecting tributes and
taxes? Why are you collecting them again? You are to desist. Fail to desist and I shall close the borders.”

Frightened, they thought, “The prince is dangerous and ruthless. In time he may pose a serious risk to us. We must go warn
the King of Aṅga.”

They went before the King of Aṅga and said, “Your Majesty, as officers of the court, we were collecting tributes and taxes
on your behalf when King Mahāpadma’s son, Prince Bimbisāra, stopped us. If Your Majesty ignores
the prince’s actions, he may, in time, pose a serious risk to us.”

Then they spoke in verse:

“When a tree is small,

Fingernails may fell it.

Yet when the tree is large,

Even a hundred axes may fail.”

The King of Aṅga sent a letter to King Mahāpadma: “Send Prince Bimbisāra with his sword hung from his neck—or prepare your
pyre and shroud, for I myself will come!”

King Mahāpadma heard this letter read and was troubled. Head in hands, he sat and sat, absorbed in
thought. Then he summoned Prince Bimbisāra and said, “Son, why did you stop the King of Aṅga’s officers from
collecting tributes and taxes? They have sent me a letter expressing their anger.”

“Your Majesty, why do we pay tribute and taxes to him?”

“Son, we are tributaries.”

“If the King of Aṅga is an anointed a kṣatriya king and we too are anointed kṣatriya kings, why do we offer tribute and taxes to him? Give me an army of just
four divisions, Your Majesty, and I will meet the King of Aṅga in battle.”

King Mahāpadma then sent a message to the King of Aṅga, saying, “You had best hope all the power, forces, will, and
authority you possess do not fail you!”

The King of Aṅga found this message intolerable and commanded his ministers, “Gentlemen, lay waste to those
lands! Call up the four branches of the armed forces.”

Having called up the four branches of the armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the charioteer corps, and the
infantry—they began to lay waste to the land of Magadha. The people of Magadha sent a message to King Mahāpadma, saying, “Your
Majesty, the King of Aṅga has called up the four branches of his armed forces—the elephant corps, the cavalry, the charioteer corps,
and the infantry—and is laying waste to the lands of Magadha.”

King Mahāpadma was troubled by this news and, head in hands, sat and sat, absorbed in thought. He summoned Prince Bimbisāra
and gave him charge over the four branches of the armed forces. Prince Bimbisāra gathered the five hundred ministers’ sons and said,
“Gentlemen, what if I were to meet the King of Aṅga in battle? What would you do?”

“Prince, your struggle shall be our struggle!” they responded.

Then they said in verse:

“In whose house dwells glory,

It is he we should protect.

If he falls, then all fall,

As spokes at a hub’s collapse.”

Prince Bimbisāra said, “Now you must do all you can to
protect me.”

“Whatever Your Majesty’s plight may be, that too shall be ours. Wherever Your Majesty’s foot may fall, there shall we bow
our heads.”

The four branches of the armed forces were then called up and they set out from Rājagṛha. When King Mahāpadma, who sat shut
up in his upper citadel surrounded by his council, saw them depart, he asked his ministers, “Gentlemen, whose army
is this?”

“Your Majesty, it is Prince Bimbisāra’s.”

“Gentlemen! It is awesome to behold!”

Hence, the prince was named and became known as Bimbisāra of the Army. Some knew him as Bimbisāra of the Guilds while some
knew him as Bimbisāra of the Army.

Prince Bimbisāra said to the five hundred sons of the ministers, “Gentlemen, this King of Aṅga is
belligerent, ruthless, and his military might is great so we cannot meet him in battle. Therefore, we will sneak in, overrun his
exposed camp, and kill him while their guard is down and their armor off.”

They overran the King of Aṅga’s exposed camp while their guard was down and their armor off, sneaking up and killing him.
The four branches of the King of Aṅga’s armed forces scattered to the four directions. Prince Bimbisāra sent mounted emissaries in
the four directions with the message, “Gentlemen, you are anointed kṣatriya
kings, and I too am an anointed kṣatriya king, so return! Gentlemen, I will support you!”

He whom the King of Aṅga left to defend the city of Campā
heard how the King of Aṅga had been killed, prompting him to close the gates and take cover within the walls of the fortress. When
at last Prince Bimbisāra reached Campā, the prince fixed the King of Aṅga’s head onto a long pole and displayed it, saying, “It is I
who has brought your lord to this state. Come out immediately and I shall look favorably upon you. Fail to appear and you too will
soon find yourself in this state.”

It distressed the steward of Campā to hear this, and he thought of this verse:

“When land and life are threatened,

Seek always to protect life.

When the wise look at both, they see

Land, but not life, can be found again.”

With that thought he hung his sword from his neck in surrender and came out.

With the King of Aṅga slain, Campā fell into Prince Bimbisāra’s hands, at which point he sent a message to King Mahāpadma,
saying, “Your Majesty, I have slain the King of Aṅga and Campā is now in my hands. Your Majesty, tell me what else needs to be done
and I shall see to it.”

Pleased, King Mahāpadma sent Prince Bimbisāra a parasol, a turban, and a coronet with the message, “Son, you must take the
reins of power there. I, for my part, will assume the reins of power here.”

And so Prince Bimbisāra assumed the reins of power. Under him, the kingdom prospered and thrived, crops were bountiful and
the land teemed with animals and people.

Once King Mahāpadma’s time had come, the ministers of Rājagṛha sent a message to King Bimbisāra, saying, “Your Majesty,
your father’s time has come.” In a great coronation ceremony, the ministers of Rājagṛha and Magadha granted him sovereignty over the
lands of Aṅga and Magadha.

Under King Bimbisāra’s rule, the kingdoms of Aṅga and Magadha prospered and thrived, crops were bountiful and the land
teemed with animals and people. He completely pacified conflict,
aggressors, and enemies from without as well as disturbances from within. He rid the land of brigands, thieves, famine, and illness,
and brought a wealth of rice, sugar cane, cattle, and buffalo; thus the just Dharma king established a just kingdom.

There was a young brahmin who, desiring and in search of esoteric instruction, left the Middle Country and went to the
South, where there was a brahmin to whom the Vedas and the limbs of the Vedas had been entrusted, who had been a teacher to brahmins
living in a country to the south.

The young brahmin went to see this teacher of brahmins. Serene, the young brahmin bowed his head calmly and sat off to one
side. The brahmin teacher warmly greeted him with words of welcome, and asked, “Young brahmin, where have you come from and what do
you desire?”

“I hail from the Middle Country and I seek to serve at the feet of a preceptor.”

“Why?”

“So that I may study the Vedas.”

“Excellent, my son. You should do just that, for that is a brahmin’s duty.”

And so, the young brahmin began to study the Vedas with the teacher of brahmins.

The brahmins’ students were in the habit, when not occupied with their studies, of going to the
riverbank to bathe, visiting the city, or collecting wood for use in fire pūjas.

Once, when not occupied with their studies, they went to collect wood for fire pūjas. On the way they had the following
conversation. “Sons of Kutsa, sons of Vātsa, sons of Śāṇḍili, sons of Bhāradvāja, sons of the Five, sons of the Further Five. To begin with, let us share where
we come from, from which land we hail.”

“I am from the East,” one young brahmin responded.

“I am from the South,” said another.

“I am from the West.”

“I am from the North.”

The young brahmin then said, “I am from the Middle Country.”

To him they said, “Sir! We have seen and heard of all those other
countries, but have neither seen nor heard of the Middle Country.”

And then they added this verse:

“In the East they are wise,

In the South they are cunning,

In the West they stir division,

In the North they speak roughly.”

“Young brahmin,” they asked, “what is the Middle Country like?”

“Gentlemen, the Middle Country is the best of all lands, abounding in rice, sugar cane, cattle, and
buffalo, thronging with hundreds of honest women and filled with upstanding men, devoid of foreign savages, and guided by learned
men. The river Gaṅgā, bountiful, meritorious, auspicious, and clean, flows through this famed land, irrigating both shores. At one
point, where sages are known to gather, the river flows through eighteen bends. There, sages seek to bodily rise to the heavens
through their practice of austerities.”

“Young brahmin, having met you, we have another question. Do you have men counted as learned in the Middle Country?”

“Gentlemen, from the first did I not say, ‘Gentlemen, the Middle Country is filled with
upstanding men, devoid of foreign savages, and guided by learned men’?”

“Young brahmin, you did say that. Young brahmin, are there any in the Middle Country like our preceptor, a bull among
teachers?”

“Gentlemen, in the Middle Country, the teachers are such that our teacher could not even look them in the
face, so eloquently do they speak, so wise are they.”

On hearing the young brahmin speak so highly of the Middle Country, they were moved by the desire to visit it. The young brahmins then went off to collect wood for
use in fire pūjas. Bearing their loads of wood, they came to the house in which the teacher of brahmins lived. On arriving, they set
their loads of wood off to one side, went to him, and said, “Preceptor, please listen. The young brahmin from the Middle Country
speaks so highly of it that we are moved by the desire to visit.”

The brahmin said, “Boys, would you visit every place of which you hear? Since you seem to derive so much pleasure from
hearing of other countries, I would suggest you not visit those places you hear about.”

“Preceptor, according to this young brahmin, in the Middle Country the teachers are such that you, our teacher, could not
even look them in the face, so eloquently do they speak, so wise are they.”

“My sons, do I say I am the one and only teacher on this earth, that there are no other teachers? After all, since the
earth contains many gems, its surface is covered with one beauty after another.”

“We will see that country yet, Preceptor, if only for a short while. We will bathe on the banks of the river, we will
serve the bull among teachers, we will defeat opponents, we will make a name for ourselves and find our fortune, too. We will go to
the Middle Country.”

As the brahmin was attached to his students and his circle of students was small, he said to the young brahmins, “In that
case, my sons, let us gather our hides, bast robes, staffs, water jugs, ladles, and bowls and go to the Middle Country.”

Having collected their things, the brahmin set off with the young brahmins for the Middle Country. Along the way, he defeated an opponent in debate, and then bound him to his
chariot. He poured ashes from a pot on another’s head. Another steered clear of him like a crow does an archery range. Another
received him with parasols, victory banners, and standards. Another made a pledge to become his student. As he went, he vanquished
one opponent after another in villages, cities, towns, marketplaces, and hamlets until he reached Rājagṛha.

The brahmin thought, “Why bother pulling off the branches, petals, and leaves while leaving the root? Since all worthy
opponents and anyone counted as learned will be close to the king, it is the king I shall see.”

With that, the brahmin went to see King Bimbisāra. On arriving, he wished King Bimbisāra success and long life, took a
place off to one side, and addressed him: “Your Majesty, from my guru I have received a few teachings. And so I seek to settle a
matter in debate with an opponent in Your Majesty’s presence.”

The king asked his ministers, “Gentlemen, are there any opponents in my kingdom capable of settling a
matter in debate with this brahmin?”

“Your Majesty, in the village of Nālada there is a brahmin known as Māṭhara who has been entrusted with the Vedas and the
limbs of the Vedas. With blazing intelligence, this capable man illuminates his own assertions and smashes those of others. He has
put together a work known as Māṭhara’s Treatise.”

“Summon Master Māṭhara.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Māṭhara received the summons and went to see King Bimbisāra. On arrival, he wished King Bimbisāra success and long life then took a place off to one side.

The ministers said, “This is the preceptor, Your Majesty.”

The king greeted him with words of welcome and asked, “Preceptor, can you settle a matter in debate in
my presence with this brahmin?”

“I, as a capable man, shall do as the king pleases,” replied Māṭhara.

The king ordered the ministers, “Gentlemen, prepare the debate arena and assign the disputants their
roles.”

The ministers prepared the debate arena and assigned the disputants their roles. The ministers then prostrated at the
king’s feet and asked, “Your Majesty, who would you have defend a position first?”

“This brahmin is a visitor so have him defend a position first.”

Having been assigned to defend a position first, the brahmin proceeded to recite five hundred lines. Māṭhara repeated them
and then said, “This position of yours is devoid of logic. It is inconsistent and incoherent.” The brahmin remained silent as
Māṭhara pointed out the position’s flaws.

That the brahmin had no confidence to respond was damning and among the reasons he was vanquished. The king asked the
ministers, “Gentlemen, who won?”

“Māṭhara, Your Majesty.”

This pleased the king, who straightened up, extended his right arm, and declared, “It is a fine discovery for me to find
this bull among teachers in my kingdom!”

He saluted Māṭhara and asked, “Preceptor, where do you live?”

“Your Majesty, in Nālada.”

“Go, and let that village be your victor’s prize.”

Māṭhara was thrilled, delighted, and overjoyed. Surrounded by learned men, he returned to his village. And since the world
desires success and distrusts failure, several brahmins pressed
their daughters on him in marriage. Māṭhara then took a wife of equal caste and together they played with, took
pleasure in, and amused one another. The wife with whom he had played, taken pleasure, and amused himself gave
birth to a son with an extraordinarily long torso. Three weeks or twenty-one days after the birth, relatives came and gathered to
celebrate his birth in grand style, during which time they chose a name for the boy. The relatives said, “Since this boy has an
extraordinarily long torso, he should be named Koṣṭhila (Long Torso).”

The young brahmin was entrusted to eight nursemaids: two to cuddle him, two to breastfeed him, two to
change his diapers, and two to play with him. Fortified with milk, curd, butter, ghee, cream, and other nourishing foods, he grew quickly, shooting up
like a lotus in a pond. When he was old enough, he was introduced to letters, number names, calculation, counting
by hand, how to exclude, to add, and to leave, and to parse until he had mastered reciting. Then, he was
instructed in the ways of brahmins: their conduct, ritual purity, and observances; the handling of ashes, the handling of ritual
vases, and the handling of sites; hand gestures, turbans, offering praise, and salutations; the Ṛgveda, the Yajurveda, the Sāmaveda, and the Atharvaveda; and a brahmin’s six duties—making fire sacrifices, officiating over fire sacrifices,
studying, teaching, giving, and receiving. The Vedas the limbs of the Vedas were entrusted to him, and with his blazing intelligence
he could illuminate his own assertions and vanquish those of
others.

The wife with whom Māṭhara had played, taken pleasure, and amused himself again gave birth, this time to a girl with eyes
like a śārī bird. Three weeks or twenty-one days after the birth, relatives came and gathered to celebrate her birth in grand style,
during which time they chose a name for the girl. The relatives said, “Since this girl has eyes like a śārī, this girl should be
given the name Śārikā.” The girl Śārikā was nurtured and grew. Her father taught her how to
combine letters into words so she became proficient in reciting.

Later, when the young brahmin Koṣṭhila was debating Śārikā, Śārikā vanquished him and their father said to Koṣṭhila, “Son,
if you are a male, how has a female vanquished you? Once I’m gone, the spoils I’ve won in debate will be taken away.”

At that the young brahmin Koṣṭhila, desiring and in search of esoteric instruction, set off from the Middle Country for the
South.

There, in a country not his own, lived a brahmin named Tiṣya who was learned in Lokāyata philosophy, a teacher of brahmins to whom the Vedas and the limbs of the Vedas were entrusted.

Koṣṭhila went to see the brahmin Tiṣya. Serene, the young brahmin Koṣṭhila bowed at Tiṣya’s feet and sat off to one side.

Tiṣya warmly greeted Koṣṭhila with words of welcome, asking, “Young brahmin, where have you come from and what do you
desire?”

“I hail from the Middle Country and I seek to serve at the feet of the preceptor.”

“Why?”

“So that I may uphold the Lokāyata philosophy.”

“Excellent, my son. You should do just that, for that is a brahmin’s duty.”

And so, the young brahmin Koṣṭhila began to study Lokāyata philosophy in the presence of the brahmin Tiṣya. The brahmins’ students were in the habit, when
not occupied with their studies, of going to the riverbank to bathe, visiting the city, or collecting wood for use in fire
pūjas.

Once, when not occupied with their studies, they went to collect wood for fire pūjas. On the way they had the following
conversation. “Sons of Kutsa, sons of Vātsa, sons of Śāṇḍili, sons of Bhāradvāja, sons of the Five, sons of the Further Five. To begin with, let us share where we
come from, from which land we hail.”

“I am from the East,” one young brahmin responded.

“I am from the South,” said another.

“I am from the West.”

“I am from the North.”

The young brahmin then said, “I am from the Middle Country.”

To him they said, “Sir! We have seen and heard of all those other countries, but have neither seen nor
heard of the Middle Country.”

And then they added this verse:

“In the East they are wise,

In the South they are cunning,

In the West they stir division,

In the North they speak roughly.”

“Young brahmin,” they asked, “what is the Middle Country like?”

“Gentlemen, the Middle Country is the best of all lands, abounding in rice, sugar cane, cattle, and
buffalo, thronging with hundreds of honest women and filled with upstanding men, devoid of foreign savages, and guided by learned
men. The river Gaṅgā, bountiful, meritorious, auspicious, and clean, flows through this famed land, irrigating both shores. At one
point, where sages are known to gather, the river flows through eighteen bends. There, sages seek to bodily rise to the heavens
through their practice of austerities.”

“Young brahmin, having met you, we have another question.
Do you have men counted as learned in the Middle Country?”

“Gentlemen, from the first did I not say, ‘Gentlemen, the Middle Country is filled with
upstanding men, devoid of foreign savages, and guided by learned men’?”

“Young brahmin, you did say that. Young brahmin, are there any in the Middle Country like our preceptor, a bull among
teachers?”

“Gentlemen, in the Middle Country, the teachers are such that our teacher could not even look them in the
face, so eloquently do they speak, so wise are they.”

On hearing the young brahmin speak so highly of the Middle Country, they were moved by the desire to visit it. The young
brahmins then went off to collect wood for use in fire pūjas. Bearing their loads of wood, they came to the house in which the
teacher of brahmins lived. On arriving, they set their loads of wood off to one side, went to him, and said, “Preceptor, please
listen. The young brahmin from the Middle Country speaks so highly of it that we are moved by the desire to visit.”

The brahmin Tiṣya said, “Boys, would you visit every place of which you hear? Since you seem to derive so much pleasure
from hearing of other countries, I would suggest you not visit those places you hear about.”

“Preceptor, according to this young brahmin, in the Middle Country the teachers are such that you, our teacher, could not
even look them in the face, so eloquently do they speak, so wise are they.”

“My sons, do I say I am the one and only teacher on this earth, that there are no other teachers? After all, since the
earth contains many gems, its surface is covered with one beauty after another.”

“We will see that country yet, Preceptor, if only for a short while. We will bathe on the banks of the river, we will
serve the bull among teachers, we will defeat opponents, and we will make a name for ourselves and find our fortune, too. We will go
to the Middle Country.”

As the brahmin was attached to his students and his circle of students was small, he said to the young brahmins, “In that
case, my sons, let us gather our hides, bast robes, staffs, water jugs, ladles, and bowls and go to the Middle Country.”

Having collected their things, the brahmin set off with the young brahmins for the Middle Country. Along the way, he
defeated an opponent in debate, and then bound him to his chariot. He poured ashes from a pot on another’s head. Another steered
clear of him like a crow does an archery range. Another received him with parasols, victory banners, and standards. Another made a
pledge to become his student. As he went, he vanquished one opponent after another in villages, cities, towns, marketplaces, and
hamlets until he reached Rājagṛha.

The brahmin Tiṣya thought, “Why bother pulling off the branches, petals, and leaves while leaving the root? Since all
worthy opponents and anyone counted as learned will be close to the king, it is the king I shall see.”

In time the brahmin Tiṣya went to see King Bimbisāra. On arriving, he wished the king success and long life, took a place
off to one side, and addressed him: “Your Majesty, from my guru I have received a few teachings. And so I seek to settle a matter in debate with an opponent in Your Majesty’s
presence.”

The king asked the ministers, “Gentlemen, where is Preceptor Māṭhara?”

“In Nālada, Your Majesty.”

“Summon Preceptor Māṭhara.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

On receiving the summons, Māṭhara went to see King Bimbisāra. On arrival, he wished the king success and long life then
took a place off to one side.

The ministers said, “This is the preceptor, Your Majesty.”

The king greeted him with words of welcome and asked, “Preceptor, can you settle a matter in debate in my presence with
this brahmin Tiṣya?”

“I, as a capable man, shall do as the king pleases,” replied Māṭhara.

The king ordered the ministers, “Gentlemen, prepare the debate arena and assign the disputants their
roles.”

The ministers prepared the debate arena and assigned the disputants their roles. The ministers then prostrated at the
king’s feet and asked, “Your Majesty, who would you have defend a position first?”

“The brahmin Tiṣya is a visitor so have him defend a position first.”

“Your Majesty,” said he brahmin Tiṣya, “as the brahmin Māṭhara is the elder, I ask that you have
him defend a position first.”

The brahmin Māṭhara thought, “This brahmin Tiṣya is clearly acquainted with new treatises so I cannot debate him on them. I
shall focus on an old text.” And with that he recited five hundred lines.

The brahmin Tiṣya repeated them and then declared, “This position of yours is devoid of
logic. It is inconsistent and incoherent.” The other brahmin remained silent as Tiṣya pointed out the text’s flaws.

That Māṭhara had no confidence to respond was damning and among the reasons he was vanquished. The king
asked the ministers, “Gentlemen, who won?”

“The brahmin Tiṣya, Your Majesty.”

“Gentlemen, give the brahmin Tiṣya a victor’s prize.”

“Your Majesty,” they replied, “if you give a prize to everyone who wins a debate, before long your lands of Aṅga and
Magadha will themselves be victors’ prizes. Therefore make the village of Nālada the standard victor’s prize. Take it from the
brahmin Māṭhara and give it to this brahmin. And if any other should best Tiṣya, then award it to the victor.”

“Gentlemen,” said the king, “that is what I shall do.”

The village was then taken from the brahmin Māṭhara and given to the brahmin Tiṣya. The brahmin Māṭhara thought, “Though I
have done much for this king, he has not taken care of me. I shall go elsewhere.”

He said to his wife, “Noble lady, though I have done much for this king, he has not taken care of me. I shall go elsewhere.
So pack up our household.”

With that they began packing up their household. When their relatives heard that the master Preceptor was leaving, they
went to see him and asked, “Preceptor, why are you packing up your household?”

“Gentlemen, though I have done much for this king, he has not taken care of me. Therefore, I shall go
elsewhere.”

“Preceptor, do not leave for other parts. Remain for a while, at your leisure, in the home of your relatives.”

Māṭhara replied in verse:

“Better to live in another’s land

Than to be oppressed in one’s own.

There where a man lives free

Is the place he finds his home and friends.”

When the brahmin Tiṣya heard that the preceptor Māṭhara was to leave, he went to him and said, “I have come only for a
short time and before long am certain to go. Let this remain your victor’s prize. Do not leave, you must
stay.”

Māṭhara replied, “I intend to leave, young brahmin.”

“Preceptor, if that is how you feel, you should keep half of this village and I shall keep claim to the other half.”

Māṭhara thought, “Though I have done much for this king, he has not taken care of me. Yet out of consideration for me, this
brahmin Tiṣya has offered to share our prize—a most beneficial arrangement. I will give Śārikā to him as a wife.”

Māṭhara then said to his wife, “Noble lady, though I have done much for this king, he has not taken care of me. Yet out of
consideration for me, this brahmin Tiṣya has offered to share our prize—a most beneficial arrangement. I shall give Śārikā to him as
a wife. Call our son, Koṣṭhila.”

His parents summoned Koṣṭhila and said, “Son, though we have done much for this king, he has not taken care of us. Yet, out
of consideration for me, this brahmin Tiṣya has offered to share our prize—a most beneficial arrangement. I shall give Śārikā to him
as a wife.”

Koṣṭhila replied, “Father! Mother! How could I accept this enemy into our family? Hasn’t he robbed us of our livelihood? Anyone else in our position would try to
take his life. If he has robbed us so, why would you give Śārikā to him in marriage?”

His parents said, “Fool! What do you know?” Ignoring what
he said, they gave Śārikā to the brahmin Tiṣya as a wife. In a lavish ceremony, Tiṣya took Śārikā as his bride.

The young brahmin Koṣṭhila thought, “This insult is all due to my lack of learning.” He thought, “What does the brahmin
Tiṣya know? He knows Lokāyata philosophy.”

He asked around, “Gentlemen, where is the Lokāyata philosophy known?”

“In the South,” he was told.

He set out into the realm, for the South,to learn Lokāyata philosophy. On arrival, he inquired, “Gentlemen,
who knows the Lokāyata philosophy?”

“The wandering mendicants.”

He went to them and said, “I seek to serve you, gentlemen.”

“Why?”

“So that I may grasp the Lokāyata philosophy.”

“We do not teach Lokāyata philosophy to householders.”

“In that case, I shall go forth.”

After they allowed his going forth, he said, “So long as I uphold the Lokāyata
philosophy, I will not cut my fingernails.” So he let his fingernails grow extraordinarily long and for this he became known as the
wandering mendicant Dīrghanakha (He Who Has Long Fingernails).

When Śārikā challenged her husband Tiṣya, he vanquished her. Later, as Tiṣya and Śārikā played with, took pleasure in, and
amused one another, a sentient being in search of his final rebirth, who had grasped the essence of liberation,
who had turned to nirvāṇa and away from saṃsāra, who had seen that all births end in death, who did not seek to be reborn, and who
was to take his last body, died and passed from the lofty heights of a god and entered Śārikā’s womb.

Śārikā dreamed that a man carrying a torch rent and
entered her belly. She climbed to a mountain peak. She moved through the sky above. An assembly of great men prostrated to her. She
then told Tiṣya about her dream. Though Tiṣya was expert at interpreting dreams and omens, he consulted other brahmins who
interpreted them. “What does it portend,” he asked, “if my brahmin wife has had such a dream?”

They replied, “Preceptor, that is an excellent portent. Her statement, ‘A man carrying a torch rent and entered my belly,’
indicates a son will be born. It portends that, after twice eight years, he will have studied the Aindra school of grammar and will vanquish all opponents. She said, ‘I climbed to a mountain peak. I moved through the sky
above. An assembly of great men prostrated to me.’ These statements indicate her son will go forth and become a great saint who
perfects his vow.”

The next time Tiṣya and Śārikā engaged in debate, Śārikā vanquished him, making him wonder, “If I have vanquished her in
the past, what now has allowed her to vanquish me?”

He thought, “It is because of the being who has entered her womb.”

After eight or nine months, a boy was born, well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, handsome, radiant,
with a golden complexion, a head shaped well like a parasol, long arms, a broad forehead, eyebrows that
met, and a prominent nose.

After his birth, Śārikā said to Tiṣya, “If we present this brahmin boy to his grandfather, he will give him a name.”

They took him to his grandfather Māṭhara, who thought
about what he should name the baby boy. “This brahmin boy is the son of the brahmin Tiṣya so I shall name this brahmin boy
Upatiṣya.” And with that he named him Upatiṣya (Tiṣya’s Heir).

Tiṣya said, “His grandfather thought of a name for this brahmin boy and chose Upatiṣya.”

He thought, “His grandfather has named this brahmin boy after his father so I shall name him after his mother. Since this
brahmin boy is the son of his mother Śārikā, I shall name him Śāriputra.” And with that he was named Śāriputra (Śārikā’s Son).

It was thus that the young brahmin was known to some as Śāriputra, while to others he was known as Upatiṣya.

Upatiṣya was entrusted to eight nursemaids: two to cuddle him, two to breastfeed him, two to change
his diapers, and two to play with him. Fortified with milk, curd,
butter, ghee, cream, and other nourishing foods, he grew quickly, shooting up like a lotus in a
pond. When he was old enough, he was introduced to letters, number names, calculation, counting by hand, and how
to exclude, to add, to leave, and to parse until he had mastered reciting. He was then instructed in the ways
of brahmins: their conduct, ritual purity, and observances; the handling of ashes, the handling of ritual vases, and the handling of
sites; hand gestures, turbans, offering praise, and salutations; the Ṛgveda, the Yajurveda, the Sāmaveda, and the Atharvaveda; and a brahmin’s six duties—making fire sacrifices, officiating over fire sacrifices, studying, teaching,
giving, and receiving. The Vedas and the limbs of the Vedas
were entrusted to him, and with his blazing intelligence he could illuminate his own assertions and vanquish those of others.

His father made him study all fields of knowledge, and thus by the age of sixteen he had studied the Aindra school of
grammar and could vanquish all opponents.

At another time when he was reciting the Vedas with his father, he asked, “Father, what is the meaning of this
statement?”

“Son, even I do not know the meaning of this statement. But these sacred mantra
have been recited with praise, sung, and furnished by past sages. Nowadays brahmins simply recite and repeat them.”

“Father, do you think there is no meaning to these sacred mantra, which have been recited with praise, sung, and furnished
by past sages, but nowadays are simply recited and repeated by brahmins? This is what such statements mean,” and he proceeded to
explain.

Tiṣya was delighted and in his delight thought, “This is what a son should do: he should carry on his
father’s tradition or develop his insight even further. Were he to accomplish only this, this brahmin boy’s insight would surpass my
own.”

He shared this insight with the five hundred young brahmins he was teaching to recite brahmanic mantras and they too were
delighted and happily turned to Upatiṣya. When the young brahmin Upatiṣya taught the five hundred young brahmins to recite brahmanic
mantras, he summarized the longer Vedas, abridging their words and phrases, and expanded on the shorter Vedas, explaining their
meaning and etymologies.

In the village of Kāṣṭhavāṭa, there lived a royal priest
named Potalaka who was wealthy with many riches and goods, with holdings both vast and extensive, with riches to rival Vaiśravaṇa.
He took a wife of equal caste and with her played, took pleasure, and amused himself. After their play, lovemaking, and the
indulgence of all their desires resulted in no child, male or female, the childless couple, badly wanting a child, propitiated Śiva,
Varuṇa, Kubera, Śakra, Brahmā, and others. Among the different gods were gods of park shrines, gods of the forest, gods of
crossroads, gods of intersections, gods who take votive offerings, birth totem gods, gods who adhere to the Dharma, and gods who
always shadow you.

There is a saying, “Boys and girls are born in the world because they are prayed for.” But that is not
so, for if it were, then each and every man would have a thousand sons, as do the kings of the world. Rather, boys and girls are
born when three circumstances are present. What are those three? The mother and father feel desire and couple; it is the right time
and the mother is ovulating; and a gandharva is near and wants to be reborn. And so it is that boys and girls are born
when those three circumstances are present.

As Potalaka sat engrossed in prayer, a being in search of his final rebirth, who had grasped the essence of liberation, who
had turned to nirvāṇa and away from saṃsāra, who had seen that all births end in death, who did not seek to be reborn, and who was
to take his last body, died and passed from the lofty heights of a god and entered his wife’s womb.

Certain women, endowed with natural intelligence, have five unique qualities. What are the five? They know when a man feels desire and when he does not; they know when the time
comes and when they are ovulating; they know when they have conceived; they know whence the conceived child came; and they know
whether it is a boy or a girl. If it is a boy, he lies with his head to the right side of the womb. If it is a girl, she lies with
her head to the left side of the womb.

Delighted, Potalaka’s wife joyfully told her husband, “Son of a lord! I am with child! And as it lies with its head to the
right side of my womb, it is sure to be a boy, so pray be happy!”

Potalaka too was delighted. He sat straight up, raised his right hand, and exclaimed with great joy, “At last, I shall look
on the face of the son I have wanted for so long! May we get along and not disagree. May he carry on my work and, having been
nurtured, nurture in return. May he enjoy his inheritance and ensure that my line lasts long. When our time comes and we die, may he
make the appropriate offerings, neither too few nor too many. And may he dedicate the merit he thus accrues to us by name, saying,
‘May this merit follow the two of them wherever they be born, wherever they go.’ ”

Knowing she was with child, to ensure she carried the child to term he installed his wife on the top story of their mansion
where he saw that she was tended to and did not come to harm. When it was cold, she was given what she needed for the cold. When it
was hot, she was given what she needed for the heat. On the doctor’s advice, her food was not to be too bitter, too sour, too salty,
too sweet, too spicy, or too astringent; and so she was given food that was not bitter, sour, salty, sweet, spicy, or astringent.
Her body was festooned in garlands, necklaces, and jewelry, like a goddess at play in a garden. She moved from bed to throne, from pedestal to pedestal, the soles of her feet never touching
the floor, and she never heard anything even slightly unpleasant.

After eight or nine months had passed, a boy was born, well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, handsome, radiant, with a
golden complexion, a head shaped well like a parasol, long arms, a broad forehead, eyebrows that met, and a prominent nose. Three
weeks or twenty-one days after the birth, relatives came and gathered to celebrate his birth in grand style, during which time they
chose a name for the boy. As this boy had come to them from the lap of the gods, they thought the young brahmin should be named
Kolita (Born from the Lap), and so he was named Kolita.

Also, because he was a descendent of Mudgala, they thought the young brahmin should be named Maudgalyāyana (Son of
Mudgala’s descendants), and so he was named Maudgalyāyana.

Thus it was that some knew the young brahmin as Maudgalyāyana while others knew him as Kolita.

The young brahmin Kolita was entrusted to eight nursemaids: two to cuddle him, two to breastfeed him,
two to change his diapers, and two to play with him. Fortified with milk, curd, butter, ghee, cream, and
other nourishing foods, he grew quickly, shooting up like a lotus in a pond. When he was old
enough, he was introduced to letters, number names, calculation, counting by hand, and how to exclude, to add, to leave, and to
parse. Once he had finished letters, he was instructed in the ways of brahmins: their
conduct, ritual purity, and observances; the handling of ashes, the
handling of ritual vases, and the handling of sites; hand gestures, turbans, offering praise, and salutations; the Ṛgveda, the Yajurveda, the Sāmaveda,
and the Atharvaveda; and a brahmin’s six duties—making fire sacrifices, officiating over fire
sacrifices, studying, teaching, giving, and receiving. He mastered and became learned in the Vedas and all branches of Vedic
knowledge. The Vedas and the limbs of the Vedas were entrusted to him, and with his blazing intelligence, he could illuminate his
own assertions and vanquish those of others.

His father made him study all fields of knowledge. Once, when he was reciting the Vedas with his father, he asked, “Father,
what does this statement mean?”

“Son, even I don’t know the meaning of this statement. Sages of the past recited with praise, sung, and furnished these
sacred mantra, but nowadays brahmins simply recite and repeat them.”

“Father, do you think there is no meaning to these sacred mantra, which have been recited with praise, sung, and furnished
by past sages, but nowadays are simply recited and repeated by brahmins? This is what such statements mean,” and he proceeded to
explain.

Potalaka was delighted and in his delight thought, “This is what a son should do: he should carry on his father’s tradition
or develop his insight even further. Were he to accomplish only that, this brahmin boy’s insight would surpass my own.”

Potalaka shared this insight with the five hundred young brahmins he was teaching to recite brahmanic mantras and they too
were delighted and happily turned to Maudgalyāyana. The young brahmin Maudgalyāyana then taught the five hundred young brahmins to
recite the brahmanic mantras.

The five hundred young brahmins were in the habit, when
not occupied with their studies, of going to the riverbank to bathe, visiting the city, or collecting wood for use in fire pūjas.

Once, when not occupied with their studies, the students of the young brahmin Upatiṣya walked, reciting mantras on their
way to the city. Meanwhile, trailing behind, the students of the young brahmin Maudgalyāyana walked, reciting mantras on their way
to the city. When the students of the young brahmin Maudgalyāyana heard the students of the young brahmin Upatiṣya reciting the
sacred mantra, they asked, “Why do you recite the sacred mantra in such a debased way?”

“How should they be recited?”

“The sacred mantra should be recited as we do.”

“From whom did you learn these sacred mantra?”

“Not to know him is not to know the sun or the moon. In the village of Nālada lives the brahmin Tiṣya. We have learned them
from his son, the young brahmin Upatiṣya. And from whom did you learn these sacred mantra?”

“Not to know him is not to know the sun or the moon. In the village of Kāṣṭhavāṭa, there lives a royal priest named
Potalaka. We have learned them from his son, the young brahmin Kolita.”

With that, the young brahmin students of Upatiṣya became dispirited, upset, and daunted. They went to Upatiṣya, who saw
them off in the distance and asked, “What troubles you, young brahmins? Your preceptor is never wrong.”

Then he spoke in verse:

“Those things you feel from within

Are clearly seen from without.

You cannot mask your voice,

Your complexion, or your mien.

“Young brahmins, clearly something troubles you.”

After they explained the situation at length, Upatiṣya said, “Young brahmins, allow me to explain. Although the sacred
mantra should be recited in the manner those young brahmins recite them, I have summarized the longer Vedas, abridging their words
and phrases, and expanded on the shorter Vedas, explaining their meaning and etymologies.”

The students of Kolita had also become dispirited, upset, and daunted. They went to Kolita, who too, on seeing them off in
the distance, asked, “What troubles you, young brahmins? Your preceptor is never wrong.”

He too then spoke the verse:

“Those things you feel from within

Are clearly seen from without.

You cannot mask your voice,

Your complexion, or your mien.

“Young brahmins, clearly something troubles you.”

After they explained the situation at length, he said, “Young brahmins, allow me to explain. Although the sacred mantra
should be recited in the manner we have recited them, that young brahmin Upatiṣya is wise for he has he summarized the longer Vedas,
abridging their words and phrases, and expanded on the shorter Vedas, explaining their meaning and etymologies.”

On hearing of the other, both Kolita and Upatiṣya formed a singular desire to meet the other. Upatiṣya went to his father
and said, “Father, I wish to visit the village of Kāṣṭhavāṭa, for
there lives a royal priest named Potalaka whose son is called Kolita. I shall go to see him.”

“Son, is he wiser than you?”

“Father, he is not wiser than I. It is rather that he is wealthier.”

His father replied:

“Some are greater due to pedigree,

Others because of age or riches.

But they all seek to sit

At the doorstep of the learned.

“Son, if he should come here you should share your learning but you mustn’t go to him.”

Kolita also went to his father and said, “Father, I wish to visit the village of Nālada, for there lives a brahmin Tiṣya
whose son is called Upatiṣya. I shall go to see him.”

“Son, is he wealthier than you?”

“Father, he is not wealthier than I. It is rather that he is wiser.”

His father replied:

“Some are greater due to pedigree,

Others because of age or learning.

But they all sit subservient

At the doorstep of the rich.

“Son, if he should come here you should share your riches but you mustn’t go to him.”

Some time later, in Rājagṛha, the feast day of the nāga kings Giri and Valguka approached. As the day neared, King
Bimbisāra wondered whether he should join in the festivities himself, as was his wont, or send Prince Ajātaśatru in his stead.

A short time later, a small task came up, prompting King Bimbisāra to say to Prince Ajātaśatru, “Son, go and join in the
festivities for the nāga kings Giri and Valguka.”

When the brahmin Potalaka heard that King Bimbisāra had
sent Prince Ajātaśatru to join in the festivities for the nāga kings Giri and Valguka, he thought, “Prince Ajātaśatru will become
king once his father dies and Kolita will become royal priest when I die. Thus their acquaintance will in time bear fruit.”

He said to Kolita, “Son, go join the festivities for the nāga kings Giri and Valguka. There, they will have arranged four
seats, one for the king, one for the royal priest, one for the challenger, and one for the reigning champion. Leave the king’s seat
be, and take your place in the royal priest’s seat.”

On arriving, he left the king’s seat be and sat on the royal priest’s seat.

When the brahmin Tiṣya heard that King Bimbisāra had sent Prince Ajātaśatru to join in the festivities for the nāga kings
Giri and Valguka, he too said to Upatiṣya, “Son, go join the festivities for the nāga kings Giri and Valguka. There, they will have
arranged four seats, one for the king, one for the royal priest, one for the challenger, and one for the reigning champion. Leave
the king’s seat and the royal priest’s seat be, but place a small stick and vase on the reigning champion’s seat before sitting down
on the challenger’s seat. From the time the sun rises to the time it sets, there shall be no challenger to equal you.”

When Upatiṣya arrived, he passed the king’s and the royal priest’s seats, placed a small stick and vase on the seat for the
reigning champion, and sat down on the challenger’s seat. When the music began, the dancers sang in Toṭaka meter. The people began to dance and sing, while the two young brahmins sat in repose. When the great
crowd of people saw this, they exclaimed, “Either those two young brahmins are fools or they’re unflappable!”

As the music wound down and the people went off dancing and singing, Kolita asked Upatiṣya, “Did it seem to you that the
dances were well danced, the songs well sung, and the music well played?”

Upatiṣya replied, “It seemed so to those who saw and heard them.”

“If it is true that those who withdraw into repose do not see, how then do they not hear?” asked Kolita.

Upatiṣya replied in verse:

“In a crowd of people destined for death,

Who laugh and flirt

Though their dead skin and dead flesh will die,

What wise man would not be vigilant?”

Kolita asked, “Are you Upatiṣya?”

“People know me thus.”

“And you?” Upatiṣya asked Kolita. “Did it seem to you that the dances were well danced, the songs well sung, and the music
well played?”

“It seemed so to those who saw and heard them.”

“If it is true that those who withdraw into repose do not see, how then do they not hear?”

Kolita replied in verse:

“All adornment is a weight,

All dance a competition.

All songs nonsense,

And all bodies but impermanent.”

Upatiṣya asked, “Are you Kolita?”

“People know me thus.”

Upatiṣya said to Kolita, “Come. Let us go forth from home into homelessness so that we may rely solely
on what is correct.”

“Young brahmin,” replied Kolita, “the royal priesthood,
for which I have made offerings to the gods, performed fire pūja, and suffered through austerities, is within reach. Having been
born into a caste borne about by elephants, why would I renounce it?”

Upatiṣya recited a verse:

“When a tree rots,

What use has it for blossoms and boughs?

When a person dies,

What use has he for possessions?”

He enjoined Kolita again, “Come. Let us go forth from home into homelessness so that we may rely solely on what is
correct.”

“I must first consult my parents,” replied Kolita.

The young brahmin Kolita went to his parents and said, “Father, Mother, please listen. As I have faith in only what is
perfect, I shall go forth from home into homelessness.”

“Son, the royal priesthood, for which you have made offerings to the gods, performed fire pūja, and suffered through
austerities, is within reach. Having been born into a caste borne about by elephants, why would you renounce it?”

Kolita spoke in verse:

“To live in the forest,

Clad in bark or grass,

Eating roots and fruit

Among beasts, is best.

Fearing the future,

The wise refuse

To kill, imprison, or torture

For temporal power.”

His parents replied, “Son, you are our only boy, beloved, handsome, patient, and agreeable to the eye. Even if you were to
die, we would fight to keep you with us. Why, then, do you think we’d let you go while you’re
still alive?”

“Father, Mother, it is best you let me go. For if you do not, from this day forth, I shall neither eat your food nor honor
you.”

“Dear boy, we will not let you leave. So long as we live, you will remain within sight. Do not think of disobeying!”

Kolita refused food for one day, then for a second, and for a third until the sixth day. At that point Kolita’s parents
went to him and said, “Dear boy, please listen. You are very young and have lived a life of leisure, and you do not know what it is
to suffer. It is hard to live the holy life. It is hard to live in solitude. It is hard to be happy all on your own. It is hard to
make your bed in distant forests, at the foot of mountains, and in remote places. Living alone in the wilderness is very trying. You
will have to spend the rest of your life living among wild animals. You will have to spend the rest of your life living on others’
handouts. You will have to spend the rest of your life away from human pleasures. You will have to spend the rest of your life away
from the fun and games of ordinary people. Dear boy! Kolita! Come home. There is pleasure to be had while living here, too. Here,
too, you may give generously. Here, too, you may act meritoriously.”

Despite their pleading, Kolita remained silent. Kolita’s parents again entreated him, a second and a third time, saying
each time, “Dear boy, please listen. You are very young and have lived a life of leisure, and you do not know what it is to suffer.
It is hard to live the holy life. It is hard to live in solitude. It is hard to be happy all on your own. It is hard to make your
bed in distant forests, at the foot of mountains, and in remote places. Living alone in the wilderness is very trying. You will have to spend the rest of your life living among wild
animals. You will have to spend the rest of your life living on others’ handouts. You will have to spend the rest of your life away
from human pleasures. You will have to spend the rest of your life away from the fun and games of ordinary people. Dear boy! Kolita!
Come home. There is pleasure to be had while living here, too. Here, too, you may give generously. Here, too, you may act meritoriously.”

Yet though they thus entreated him a second and a third time, Kolita remained silent.

Kolita’s parents then enjoined his relatives, “Family! Come! Talk sense into our dear boy Kolita.”

At this, Kolita’s relatives went to him and said, “Dear boy, please listen. You are very young and have lived a life of
leisure and don’t know what it is to suffer. It is hard to live the holy life. It is hard to live in solitude. It is hard to be
happy all on your own. It is hard to make your bed in distant forests, at the foot of mountains, and in remote places. Living alone
in the wilderness is very trying. You will have to spend the rest of your life living among wild animals. You will have to spend the
rest of your life living on others’ handouts. You will have to spend the rest of your life away from human pleasures. You will have
to spend the rest of your life away from the fun and games of ordinary people. Dear boy, Kolita, come home! Among your relatives,
there is pleasure to be had while living there too. There too
you may give generously. There too you may act meritoriously.”

Despite their pleading, Kolita did not say a thing. Kolita’s relatives again entreated him, a second and a third time,
saying each time, “Dear boy, please listen. You are very young and have lived a life of leisure, and you do not know what it is to
suffer. It is hard to live the holy life. It is hard to live in solitude. It is hard to be happy all on your own. It is hard to make
your bed in distant forests, at the foot of mountains, and in remote places. Living alone in the wilderness is very trying. You will
have to spend the rest of your life living among wild animals. You will have to spend the rest of your life living on others’
handouts. You will have to spend the rest of your life away from human pleasures. You will have to spend the rest of your life away
from the fun and games of ordinary people. Dear boy! Kolita! Come home. Among your relatives, there is pleasure to be had while
living there, too. There, too, you may give generously. There, too, you may act meritoriously.”

Yet though they thus pleaded with him a second time and a third time, Kolita still remained silent.

Kolita’s parents then enjoined his childhood friends, “You must come! Talk sense into our dear boy Kolita.”

At this, the young brahmin Kolita’s childhood friends went to him and said, “Dear boy, listen. You are very young and have
lived a life of leisure and do not know what it is to suffer. It is
hard to live the holy life. It is hard to live in solitude. It is hard to be happy all on your own. It is hard to make your bed in
distant forests, at the foot of mountains, and in remote places. Living alone in the wilderness is very trying. You will have to
spend the rest of your life living among wild animals. You will have to spend the rest of your life living on others’ handouts. You
will have to spend the rest of your life away from human pleasures. You will have to spend the rest of your life away from the fun
and games of ordinary people. Dear boy! Kolita! Come home. There is also pleasure to be had while living among your relatives. There
too you may give generously. There too you may act meritoriously.”

Yet though they thus entreated him, Kolita remained silent. His childhood friends again entreated Kolita a second and a
third time, saying each time, “Dear boy, please listen. You are very young and have lived a life of leisure, and you do not know
what it is to suffer. It is hard to live the holy life. It is hard to live in solitude. It is hard to be happy all on your own. It
is hard to make your bed in distant forests, at the foot of mountains, and in remote places. Living alone in the wilderness is very
trying. You will have to spend the rest of your life living among wild animals. You will have to spend the rest of your life living
on others’ handouts. You will have to spend the rest of your life away from human pleasures. You will have to spend the rest of your
life away from the fun and games of ordinary people. Dear boy!
Kolita! Come home. Among your relatives, there is pleasure to be had while living there, too. There, too, you may give generously.
There, too, you may act meritoriously.”

Yet though they thus entreated him a second and a third time, Kolita still remained silent. Kolita’s childhood friends then
went to his parents and said, “Father, Mother, please listen. What good can come from the death of the serene youth Kolita? The wise
have praised going forth, so if going forth makes him happy, then at least you will see him alive. If he isn’t happy, he can always
give up the life of a sage. And since he will have no home but yours, it is better that you let him go forth.”

Kolita’s parents then asked Kolita, “Dear boy, Kolita, do you think it better to go
forth than to remain at home?”

“Father, Mother, it is not good for me to live at home. It is good for me to go forth.”

“Well then, dear boy, Kolita, know that the time for such a change has come.”

Having obtained his parents’ consent, the young brahmin Kolita slowly regained his strength, vigor, and determination by
drinking rice gruel. He left the village of Kāṣṭhavāṭa and set out for the village of Nālada.

As the young brahmin Upatiṣya enjoyed solitude, he had gone to live in the forest, where he gave instruction to five
hundred young brahmins in the reciting of mantras. In time, the young brahmin Kolita reached the village of Nālada and asked
Upatiṣya’s parents, “Father, Mother, where is Upatiṣya?”

They replied, “Upatiṣya enjoys solitude so he has gone to live in the forest, where he instructs five hundred young
brahmins in the reciting of mantras.”

Kolita went to Upatiṣya and said, “Come, Upatiṣya. We shall go forth from home into the homelessness so that we may rely
solely on what is correct.”

“Did your parents give their consent?”

“They did.”

“Young brahmin, please stay until I have asked my parents.”

“Upatiṣya, it took a long time for my parents to give their consent. How long will it be until you have consent?”

“Young brahmin, I will see that they give their consent right away and return.”

Upatiṣya went to his parents and said, “Father, Mother, please listen. I shall go forth from home into homelessness so that
I may rely solely on what is correct.”

“Son, is it good for you to go forth?”

“Father, Mother, it is good for me to go forth.”

“Then go forth, son.”

Upatiṣya went to Kolita and said, “Come, Kolita. We shall go forth from home into homelessness so that we may rely solely
on what is correct.”

“Did your parents give their consent?”

“They did.”

“Upatiṣya, it took a long time for my parents to give their consent. How did you get the consent of yours so quickly?”

“Allow me to explain. You were hindered by heavy bindings, tight, secure, and imperishable, while I was hindered by light
bindings, powerless, weak, and perishable.”

The venerable Śāriputra had gone forth in five hundred previous lives because he had made this prayer:

“May I be born, not in a wealthy house

Nor in one that is poor;

Let it be rather in a house of moderate means

And always among many renunciants.”

Kolita said to Upatiṣya, “Young brahmin, as we are well-known brahmins, we cannot join just any renunciant order. We must
properly scrutinize the different renunciant orders and only then join one.”

With that they made their way to Rājagṛha.

Meanwhile there were six tīrthika teachers living in Rājagṛha who entertained the conceit of omniscience although they were
not omniscient: Pūraṇa Kāśyapa; Gośālīputra, the wandering mendicant; Sañjayin, son of Vairaṭṭī;
Ajita of the hair shawl; Kakuda, a descendant of Kātyāyana; and Jñātiputra, the Nirgrantha.

The young brahmins Upatiṣya and Kolita went to Pūraṇa Kāśyapa and asked him, “Sir, what is your approach to
the Dharma? What instructions do you give to your students? What is the result of living a holy life? What are its benefits?”

“Young brahmins,” replied Pūraṇa, “this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: There is nothing to alms, oblations,
fire sacrifices, good deeds, or bad deeds. There are no results or fruitions from performing good deeds or bad deeds. There is no
present life. There is no afterlife. There is no mother. There is no father. Sentient beings are not born miraculously. In the world there are no arhats who have reached perfection, who have entered perfection, who can knowingly
say that through their heightened insight they have seen this and future lives, and proclaim, ‘We have overcome
birth. We have lived the holy life. We have done what needed to be done. We will know no life other than this.’
One’s life-force persists for the duration of this life but is annihilated after that. It will perish and after death will not arise
again. A person’s body is forged from the four great elements, for once its time is up, the body’s solid structures recede
into earth, the body’s fluids recede into water, the body’s heat recedes into fire, and the body’s vital energies recede into wind.
The senses fade into space. A person’s corpse is borne on a bier carried by four men and taken to the charnel ground where it is
burned, never to be seen again. What burns turns to ash. The bones turn a pigeon-like grey. Those who are confused about these
things counsel giving alms, while the wise counsel receiving them. Those who argue that such things exist are all vainly debating
what is empty and hollow. Both the childish and the wise will cease to be. They will perish and after death will not live
again.”

The young brahmins Upatiṣya and Kolita thought, “This noble teacher has strayed onto a spurious path. He
pursues fully a ruinous path. This is exactly the kind of dangerous path the wise say must be rejected.”

Knowing this, they spoke in verse:

“He who teaches a wrong and ruinous path

Is known to be an inferior teacher.

If this is his Dharma,

What, for him, is antithetical to Dharma?”

Pūraṇa’s teaching heard, they cast it aside like an empty bottle and moved on.

Upatiṣya and Kolita then went to Gośālīputra the wandering mendicant and asked, “Sir, what is your approach to the Dharma? What instructions do you
give to your students? What is the result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?”

“Young brahmins,” replied the wandering mendicant, “this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: That sentient beings
are afflicted has nothing to do with causes and conditions. The affliction of sentient beings has nothing to do with causes and conditions. That sentient beings
are purified has nothing to do with causes and conditions. The purification of sentient beings occurs
randomly and by chance. That sentient beings lack understanding and insight has nothing to do with causes and conditions. Their lack
of understanding and insight occurs randomly and by chance. That sentient beings acquire understanding and insight has nothing to do
with causes and conditions. Their acquisition of understanding and insight occurs randomly and by chance. It is not due to vigor. It
is not due to determination. It is not due to a combination of vigor and determination. It is not due to a person’s skill. It is not
due to his overpowering ability. It is not due to a combination of a person’s skill and overpowering ability. It is not due to one’s
own skill. It is not due to another’s skill. It is not due to a combination of one’s own skill and another’s skill. All beings, all
living things, and all elements are powerless. They lack strength, influence, determination, and the ability to overcome. A being’s life is predetermined. That is why we experience the unique pleasures and pains of
each of the six realms.”

Upatiṣya and Kolita thought, “This noble teacher too has strayed onto a spurious path. He pursues fully a ruinous path.
This is exactly the kind of dangerous path the wise say must be
rejected.”

Knowing this, they spoke in verse:

“He who teaches a wrong and ruinous path

Is known to be an inferior teacher.

If this is his Dharma,

What, for him, is antithetical to Dharma?”

Gośālīputra’s teaching heard, they cast it aside like an empty bottle and moved on.

Upatiṣya and Kolita then went to Sañjayin, son of Vairaṭṭī, and asked, “Sir, what is your approach to the
Dharma? What instructions do you give to your students? What is the result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?”

“Young brahmins,” replied Sañjayin, “this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: A person may act or make another person act, maim or make another person maim, burn or make another person
burn, flog or make another person flog, endanger life, take what has not been given, engage wrongfully in acts of desire, knowingly speak falsehoods, imbibe intoxicating drinks, break into a house, pick a lock, rob at knifepoint, block a road and lie in wait, sack a town, sack a city, sack a region, or slaughter,
dismember, flog, and tear apart every last being on this earth with the edge of a cakra blade, and then, having cut up, dismembered, flogged, and torn apart all beings, lay all the flesh out on a
single plane, in a single mound, in a single pile, or a single heap. In having laid all the flesh out on a single plane, in a single mound, in a single pile, or a single heap, and having
done all those things, there would be no sin in that nor would any sin come from it. One could walk along the south bank of the river Gaṅgā and slaughter, dismember, flog, and tear apart everything, or walk along the north bank of
the river Gaṅgā and give alms and oblations, and there would be no sin or merit in either, nor would sin or merit come from either.
Even if one practices generosity, discipline, perfect restraint, and acts with purpose and integrity, one
still does not gain merit.”

Upatiṣya and Kolita thought, “This noble teacher too has strayed onto a spurious path. He pursues fully a
ruinous path. This is exactly the kind of dangerous path the wise say must be rejected.”

Knowing this, they spoke in verse:

“He who teaches a wrong and ruinous path

Is known to be an inferior teacher.

If this is his Dharma,

What, for him, is antithetical to Dharma?”

Sañjayin’s teaching heard, they cast it aside like an empty bottle and moved on.

Upatiṣya and Kolita then went to Ajita of the hair shawl and asked, “Sir, what is your approach to the
Dharma? What instructions do you give to your students? What is the result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?”

“Young brahmins,” replied Ajita, “this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: Seven bodies are not products, they are
not by-products, they are not apparitions, they are not by-products of apparitions, they are not subject to harm, they are
everlasting, and they are still and solid like a pillar. What are
the seven? The seven are thus: the body of earth, the body of water, the body of fire, the body of wind, pleasure, pain, and the
vitality of life. Those seven bodies are not products, are not by-products, are not apparitions, are not by-products of apparitions,
are not subject to harm, are everlasting, and are still and solid like a pillar. Those seven are such that they do not waver, they
do not change, nor do they harm one another, nor do they become merit, nor do they become sin, nor do they become both merit and
sin, nor do they become pleasure, nor do they become pain, nor do they become both pleasure and pain. Were one person to cut off the head of another person, even that would not influence the world nor would it
cause the slightest harm to that which is still and solid, for the weapon would pass straight through the unbroken spaces in those
seven bodies, leaving the life within them unharmed. There is absolutely no killing them, no making to kill them, no rousing them,
no making to rouse them, no awareness of them, no making to be aware of them, no knowing them, and no making them known. Whether you
be childish or wise, you are liberated from suffering after 8,400,000 eons; in the meantime, you are reborn in and cycle through
14,000 principal places of rebirth, 60,600 great eons, five types of actions, three types of actions, two types of actions, action,
half-actions, sixty-two paths, sixty-two intermediate eons, thirty-six hells, one hundred and twenty senses, sixty-two constituent
particles, 49,000 classes of nāga families, 49,000 classes of garuḍa, 49,000 classes of wandering mendicants, 49,000 classes of ājivika, 49,000 classes of nirgrantha, seven realms with
discerning awareness, seven realms lacking discerning awareness, seven nirgrantha realms, seven demi-god realms, seven demonic
realms, seven godly realms, seven human realms, seven great oceans, seven hundred lakes, seven great dreams, seven hundred dreams,
seven states of great diminishment, seven hundred states of diminishment, seven states of great increase, seven hundred states of
increase, seven states of great depletion, seven hundred states of depletion, seven great abysses, seven hundred abysses, six noble
clans, ten high-status rebirths, and the eight grounds of a great person. Thus, just as a ball of thread thrown in the air unravels
into a long thread as it falls, everyone, be they childish or wise, is liberated from suffering after having been through the cycle
of rebirth for 8,400,000 eons. No ascetic or brahmin can say, ‘By observing ethics, a vow, asceticism, or celibacy, I shall bring to
fruition those acts that have not borne fruit, and in facing those acts that
have borne fruit, purify them.’ Our pleasures and pains are predestined. It is impossible to extend or reduce them. As this is how
things are and not otherwise, the rounds of existence are thus to be counted.”

Upatiṣya and Kolita thought, “This noble teacher too has strayed onto a spurious path. He pursues fully a
ruinous path. This is exactly the kind of dangerous path the wise
say must be rejected.”

Knowing this, they spoke in verse:

“He who teaches a wrong and ruinous path

Is known to be an inferior teacher.

If this is his Dharma,

What, for him, is antithetical to Dharma?”

Ajita’s teaching heard, they cast it aside like an empty bottle and moved on.

Upatiṣya and Kolita then went to Kakuda Kātyāyana and asked, “Sir, what is your approach to the Dharma?
What instructions do you give to your students? What is the result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?”

“Young brahmins,” replied Kakuda Kātyāyana, “this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: If someone comes to me and
asks, ‘Is there an afterlife?’ I answer him by saying, ‘There is an afterlife.’ If he should ask, ‘Is there not an afterlife?’ I
answer him by saying, ‘There is no afterlife.’ If he should ask, ‘Is there or is there not an afterlife?’ I answer him by saying,
‘There is and is not an afterlife.’ If he should ask, ‘Does an afterlife neither exist nor not exist?’ I answer him by saying, ‘An
afterlife neither exists nor does it not exist.’ Likewise, if someone comes to me and asks, ‘Is the afterlife like or unlike this
world?’ I answer him by saying, “The afterlife is like and unlike this world.’ If he should ask, ‘Is the afterlife different or not
different?’ I answer by saying, ‘The afterlife is different and not different.’ If he should ask, ‘Is the afterlife not different or not not different?’ I answer him by
saying, ‘The afterlife is not different and not not different.’ If he should ask, ‘Is the afterlife like that or not like that?’ I
answer him by saying, ‘The afterlife is like that and not like that.’ ”

Upatiṣya and Kolita thought, “This noble teacher too has strayed onto a spurious path. He pursues fully a
ruinous path. This is exactly the kind of dangerous path the wise say must be rejected.”

Knowing this, they spoke in verse:

“He who teaches a wrong and ruinous path

Is known to be an inferior teacher.

If this is his Dharma,

What, for him, is antithetical to Dharma?”

Kakuda Kātyāyana’s teaching heard, they cast it aside like an empty bottle and moved on.

Upatiṣya and Kolita then went to Jñātiputra, the Nirgrantha, and asked, “Sir, what is your approach to the
Dharma? What instructions do you give to your students? What is the result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?”

“Young brahmins,” replied the Nirgrantha, “this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: No matter what a person
individually experiences, it all comes from causes sown in the past. Old actions are purified through austerities, while new actions
are averted by the dam of inactivity. In this way one avoids future defilement. In the absence of defilement, actions are exhausted.
When actions are exhausted, suffering is exhausted. When suffering is exhausted, one is freed from suffering.”

Knowing this, they spoke in verse:

“He who teaches a wrong and ruinous path

Is known to be an inferior teacher.

If this is his Dharma,

What, for him, is antithetical to Dharma?”

The Nirgrantha’s teaching heard, they cast it aside like an empty bottle and moved on.

Not long before, word had spread about a tīrthika named Sañjayin. The young brahmins Upatiṣya and Kolita went to where the
teacher Sañjayin lived and asked, “Gentlemen, where is the teacher Sañjayin?”

“He has withdrawn into seclusion.”

“Oh! This is the first time we’ve heard the phrase ‘withdrawn into seclusion’ in such a long time!”

They thought, “It would not be right to disturb the teacher’s withdrawal into seclusion. We will approach him once he has
risen from this state.” And with that they sat off to one side.

The teacher Sañjayin emerged from seclusion. The states of absorption he had experienced had invigorated his senses.
Upatiṣya and Kolita thought, “Whoever has such a face must have qualities to match.” They approached him and asked,
“Sir Sañjayin, what is your approach to the Dharma? What instructions do you give to your students? What is the
result of living the holy life? What are its benefits?”

Sañjayin replied, “Young brahmins, this is how I see it and this is my philosophy: The Dharma is truth and nonviolence. The
peaceful, ageless, immortal, and unwaning state is Brahman.”

The two replied, “Preceptor, what is the meaning of what you have said?”

“As for truth, renunciation is born of true thoughts. As for nonviolence, all dharmas spring from the ground of
nonviolence. The peaceful, ageless, immortal, and unwaning state are other names by which nirvāṇa may be known. That state is called
Brahmā, for if some were to achieve nirvāṇa in this very life, all would be well. But even if they did not achieve it, they would
still draw near to the world of Brahmā. Even so, brahmins will be reborn in the world of Brahmā, will alight into the world of
Brahmā, will have alighted into the world of Brahmā. And how is the world of Brahmā? Gaining the fortune for the world of Brahmā is
akin to entering nirvāṇa.”

“Preceptor, allow us to go forth. We pledge to live the holy life under your guidance.” And with that the two became
renunciants in Sañjayin’s order.

After the teacher Sañjayin allowed Upatiṣya and Kolita’s going forth, the news of their acceptance spread everywhere and
Sañjayin was lauded with many accolades and much praise. He thought, “If I was a member of the
Śāṇḍilya clan before and am still a member now, what has caused such abundant accolades and praise to come to me
now?”

Sañjayin thought, “It is not due to my own sway. Rather, it is the sway of these two young brahmins.”

Thus when he accepted five hundred young brahmins for instruction in how to recite brahmanic mantras, he assigned two
hundred and fifty to Upatiṣya and two hundred and fifty to Kolita.

At one point, after the teacher Sañjayin had fallen ill, Upatiṣya asked Kolita, “Kolita, will you attend the preceptor or
will you seek out medicine for him?”

Kolita thought, “Upatiṣya is intelligent. I would have him attend the preceptor while I go in search of medicine,” and
said, “Please attend the preceptor and I will seek medicine.”

Upatiṣya began to attend the preceptor and Kolita went off in search of medicine. Though Upatiṣya ministered to the
preceptor with medicinal roots, stalks, leaves, flowers, and fruit, the illness would not subside. Though weak, the preceptor
smiled, prompting Upatiṣya to ask, “Preceptor, given that great people like you do not smile for no reason, what causes you to
smile? What prompts it?”

“Upatiṣya,” replied Sañjayin, “allow me to explain. Great beings like me do not smile without cause or condition. I was
thinking about the wife of King Suvarṇapati of Suvarṇadvīpa. When her husband’s time had come, she leapt onto his funeral pyre. I
was thinking how the impulse to desire, the very things desired, and the pursuit of desire are what cause these sentient beings to
suffer.”

“When was this, preceptor?”

“At such and such a time, a long time ago.”

“In what month?”

“In such and such a month long ago.”

“On what day?”

“On such and such a day long ago.”

Sañjayin recorded this conversation on a board and set it down.

“Preceptor,” Upatiṣya urged, “if the whole of what little renunciation we have is for ambrosia and the search for ambrosia,
and if you, preceptor, have found some small measure of that ambrosia then please share it with us!”

“Son, the whole of what little renunciation I have is for
ambrosia and the search for ambrosia but neither have I discovered even a small measure of that ambrosia. Allow me to explain. On
the fifteenth, a day of fast, I heard the gods, who were passing through the heavens above, say, ‘At the foot of the snow mountains,
on the banks of the river Bhāgīrathī, not far from the sage Kapila’s hermitage, a youth from the Śākya clan has appeared. Brahmins
skilled in interpreting omens and signs made this prophecy: ‘The youth installed in the palace will either become king of the world,
with his reign extending over the four directions, or he will become a king of Dharma. He will be endowed with the Dharma or the
seven precious emblems. The seven precious emblems he will possess are as follows: a precious wheel, a precious elephant, a precious
horse, a precious jewel, a precious woman, a precious steward, and a precious general. He will have a full one thousand sons,
heroic, brave, and of ideal build who will destroy enemy forces. Under him, the whole earth, from sea to sea, will be free from the
threat of harm and violence, and will be a realm without punishment or armed expulsion, where rule is
impartial and in harmony with the Dharma. But if he, with perfect faith, should cut his hair, shave his beard, don the saffron
robes, and go forth from home into homelessness, then he shall become a tathāgata, an arhat, a perfectly awakened buddha, famed all
over the world.’

“ ‘You two should go forth into his teachings. Having gone forth, you should not proclaim your caste, you should not
proclaim your clan, you should not proclaim your being a young brahmin. Once you have overcome
conceit and pride, you should live the holy life under his guidance and then you will receive a great ambrosia.”

Then he said,

“All accumulation ends in depletion;

The lofty in the end will fall;

All meetings end in separation;

All life ends in death.”

On saying that, he went the way of all temporal phenomena. After decorating the sides of his bier with blue, yellow, red,
and white cloth, they carried his corpse to the charnel ground and cremated him. In time, their grief subsided.

In time, a young brahmin named Suvarṇajaṭa from Suvarṇadvīpa arrived in Rājagṛha. When he entered their dwelling, Upatiṣya
asked, “Young brahmin, where have you come from?”

“From Suvarṇadvīpa,” he replied.

“Young brahmin, did you see anything at all amazing or remarkable in Suvarṇadvīpa?”

“I didn’t see anything truly amazing or remarkable,” he replied, “but I did see something somewhat amazing and remarkable
so listen as you please. The wife of King Suvarṇapati of Suvarṇadvīpa leapt onto his funeral pyre when her husband’s time had
come.”

“When was this?”

“At such and such a time, a long time ago.”

“In what month?”

“In such and such a month long ago.”

“On what day?”

“On such and such a day long ago.”

When Upatiṣya looked at the conversation recorded on the board, he saw that everything was exactly as Sañjayin had said, at
which point he said to Kolita, “Our preceptor Sañjayin concealed his learning from us. If he had found such rare ambrosia, he did
not share it with us. For if he himself saw forms in other lands with the divine eye and heard pleasant sounds with the divine ear, then his claim to have found no ambrosia is not true.”

Kolita thought, “Upatiṣya is intelligent. Were he to find such ambrosia he may not tell me and a situation such as this
might happen again.”

Then he said, “Upatiṣya, join me in a pledge. Whoever finds such ambrosia first, he shall share it with the other.”

They made the pledge and set out into the realm.

Going Forth

When the blessed Bodhisattva reached the age of twenty-nine, he ceased to revel in desires, for the sight of the elderly,
the sick, and the dead had moved him deeply. He stole out in the middle of the night and fled into the forest, where he spent six
years practicing austerities. But he came to see that those austerities would amount to nothing. He then breathed freely, in and
out, and partook again of solid foods such as rice and porridge. He rubbed ghee and oil into his skin and took refreshing baths in
warm water. When he came to the village of Senānī, the village headman’s daughters, Nandā and
Nandabalā, gave him milk that had been churned sixteen times and mixed with honey to drink. He was lauded by the nāga king Kālika,
and he accepted a bundle of auspicious golden-colored kūśa grass from a grassmonger. From there he went to what would be the site of
his awakening. He arrived and settled cross-legged into an unshakable absorption on an unshakable bed of kuśa grass. Sitting
straight and erect, he settled his mind and said:

“I shall not uncross my legs

Until I have achieved the undefiled state.”

His intention pledged, he said:

“So long as I have not found an undefiled state,

I shall not uncross my legs.”

During the midnight hours, through the power of his loving kindness the Blessed One subdued Māra and his retinue of 360
million demonic spirits, and unsurpassed wisdom arose within him. At Brahmā’s request, he went to Vārāṇasī and turned the wheel of
Dharma, revealing in three phases a teaching with twelve aspects. During that time, he converted the group of five, the
five friends, and fifty high-born village brahmin youths, who then went forth
and received full ordination.

While passing through the Karpāsī forest, he convinced a noble band of sixty youths of the truths. While passing through
the village of Senānī, he convinced the village headman’s daughters, Nandā and Nandabalā, of the truths. While passing through
Uruvilvā, he inspired a group of one thousand dreadlocked ascetics to go forth, and ordained them. While passing by the Gayāśīrṣa
stūpa, he instructed those one thousand monks by displaying three miracles, thereby freeing them from the wilds of saṃsāra and
establishing them in the utterly final state of perfection and the unsurpassably blissful state of nirvāṇa. While passing through
the Yaṣtī forest, he brought the King of Magadha, Bimbisāra of the Guilds, to the truths along with 80,000 gods and many hundreds of
thousands of Magadhan brahmins and householders. While passing through Rājagṛha, he accepted the offering of a bamboo park. It was then that the Blessed Buddha took up residence at the Kalandakanivāpa in Rājagṛha’s Bamboo Park.

Having set out into the realm, Upatiṣya and Kolita also arrived in Rājagṛha. They saw that Rājagṛha was utterly still and
thought, “One of only two things could have brought utter quiet to this town: either fear of neighboring armies, or the presence of
several ascetics and brahmins famed for their merit and majesty.”

As they began to examine the stars, they acknowledged, “As neighboring armies present no imminent danger, tomorrow we shall
know more.”

The two were in the habit of daubing three lines of ash across their foreheads and going out on their daily rounds. When
they did so, many hundreds of thousands of creatures would always follow after them.

The next day they daubed three lines of ash across their foreheads and went out on their daily rounds. However, on that day
not a single being followed after them. On returning they
considered the matter. They saw that not a single being had followed after them and wondered, “In the past when we have gone out on
rounds, many hundreds of thousands of creatures would follow after us. Why then has not a single being followed after us today?”

There is nothing, even in the slightest, the blessed buddhas do not know, do not see, are not aware of,
or do not notice. Thus the Blessed Buddha subsists, alive and well, endowed with great compassion, engaged in actions to help the world; is its sole protector, its lone champion, one of a kind; does not speak duplicitously; is
sustained by calm abiding and insight; illuminates the three types of knowledge; is well-trained in the three trainings; is skilled
in the three approaches to discipline; has crossed the four rivers; is well-grounded in his use of the four foundations of
miraculous conduct, and is one who long ago perfected the four means of attraction; who teaches the four noble truths; who, being
fearless in four ways, is never frightened; who has abandoned the five branches, has transcended the five rebirths, teaches the five
aggregates to be selfless, is in possession of the six branches, and has perfected the six perfections; who always abides by the six
spheres, who binds the six sense gates; who accustoms himself to the six dharmas that elicit perfect joy; who is rich with the
flower of awakening’s seven branches; who displays the seven treasures of a noble being; who is unstained by the eight mundane
concerns; who knows the nine things that inspire aggression; who teaches the eight branches of the path; who is skilled in the nine
stages of meditative absorption;
who possesses the strength of the ten strengths; whose good name
has spread in the ten directions; and who surpasses those who rule over the thousandfold universe.

As it is in the nature of such beings to watch over the world with their buddha eye during the three
times of the day and night, they know and see who has fallen, who has flourished, who hurts, who wants, who is unhappy, who hurts,
who wants, who is unhappy, who is headed for a miserable rebirth, who will fall into a
miserable rebirth; who will decide to rise from his path towards a miserable rebirth and land in a high-status rebirth, liberation,
or the fruition; who will reach out his hand to those sinking in the mud of desire; who lacks the riches of a noble being’s
treasures; who will come to the magnificent wealth of a noble being’s treasures; whose buddhahood, with its attendant fruits, will
ornament the world; whose latent roots of virtue will bud; whose budding roots of virtue will blossom; and who, having blossomed,
will be freed.

It has been said:

The home of noxious water beasts

May in time evaporate,

But the love of buddhas

For their disciples shall not.

As a mother holds dear

And protects her only child,

Tathāgatas too hold dear

And protect their disciples.

An omniscient mind’s compassion never wanes

In its quest for the young calves it nurses,

So its love for those who fall to the miserable realms and saṃsāra

Is like the cow’s love for its fallen calf.

Thus the Blessed One watches over the world with his buddha eye. With this eye, the Blessed One saw that the minds of the
wandering mendicants Upatiṣya and Kolita had been ripened through their service to past buddhas and the stores of virtue they had
amassed, and thus he understood that the two wandering mendicants
were like fruit ripe for the plucking. The time to train them had come. The Blessed One thought, “Will these two be captivated by
the Teacher or by his disciples?” and saw they would be captivated by disciples.

He thought, “What will be their way into the renunciant order? Will they be drawn by miracles or by conduct?” Thinking
that, he saw they would be drawn by conduct. The Blessed One summoned the venerable Aśvajit, whose conduct he saw would captivate
them, for conduct like his captivated gods and men. Then the Blessed One instructed the venerable Aśvajit, “Aśvajit, consider the
wandering mendicants Upatiṣya and Kolita.”

Aśvajit’s silence indicated his assent to the Blessed One’s instruction. As Aśvajit was fully committed to acting on the
Blessed One’s instruction, he praised and welcomed the Blessed One’s instruction. Bowing his head at the Blessed One’s feet, he
said, “I go with the Blessed One’s guidance.”

Early the next morning, after the night had passed, the venerable Aśvajit put on his under robe and took up his begging
bowl and robes. Clad in robes and bearing a begging bowl, he entered Rājagṛha to beg alms, radiant in his coming and going, his
gazing ahead and his gazing to the side, the withdrawing and extending of his limbs.

Meanwhile the wandering mendicant Upatiṣya was out and about in Rājagṛha on some errand when he saw from afar the venerable
Aśvajit, clad in robes and bearing a begging bowl, he entered Rājagṛha to beg alms, radiant in his coming and going, his gazing ahead and his gazing to the side, the withdrawing
and extending of his limbs. On seeing him he thought, “So this is what the renunciants who come to live here in Rājagṛha are like.
Never in my life have I seen anyone carry himself like this renunciant. I must approach him and ask, ‘Monk, who is your teacher? Why
have you gone forth? Whose Dharma do you favor?’ ”

Knowing the monk was likely to pass by one of the main crossroads, Upatiṣya went there to wait. When the venerable Aśvajit
reached the spot where Upatiṣya was, Upatiṣya asked this of Aśvajit: “Monk, who is your teacher? Why have you gone forth? Whose
Dharma do you favor?”

“Gautama, the venerable monk and prince of the Śākyas, left the Śākya clan, shaved his head and beard, donned the saffron
robes and, with perfect faith, went forth from home into homelessness. In his unsurpassed, perfect awakening, he has become a
perfect buddha. My teacher is the Blessed One. It is because of him that I have gone forth. It is his Dharma that I favor.”

“Monk, then you must share one of his teachings!”

“Venerable, I am but young and a new renunciant so it would not be easy for me to fully and perfectly explain the teachings
of the Blessed One, who is a tathāgata, an arhat, a perfect buddha. Thus I will share with you their import.”

“Monk, the import is what I need. What good is a lengthy explanation? Please teach me the import, whatever its length.”

The venerable Aśvajit spoke this verse:

“Those phenomena that arise from causes,

The Tathāgata himself has taught

That they have a cause and also a cessation.

The Great Śramaṇa is the one who thus proclaims.”

Once he had explained this aspect of the Dharma, Upatiṣya came to see phenomena through the unclouded and pristine eyes of
Dharma. Upatiṣya saw the Dharma, heard the Dharma, knew the Dharma, plumbed the depths of the Dharma, overcame his skepticism,
transcended doubt, could not be swayed by others, and was not reliant on others. With his newfound fearless confidence in the Dharma
taught by the Teacher, he stood up from his seat, pulled his shawl from one shoulder, bowed to the venerable Aśvajit with his palms
pressed together, and spoke in verse:

“This is the Dharma of saviors.

For millions upon billions of eons

I have neither seen it nor heard it.

May I come to realize

This immortal and peaceful state.”

“Venerable, where is the Blessed One now?”

“Venerable, at the Kalandakanivāpa, in the Bamboo Park outside Rājagṛha.”

Upatiṣya then praised and welcomed what Aśvajit had said. After prostrating at Aśvajit’s feet, he circumambulated him three
times and went to see Kolita.

From a long way off, Kolita saw Upatiṣya approaching. On meeting him, he said to Upatiṣya, “Venerable, your faculties are
clear and your complexion lustrous. If your skin is so radiant, does that mean you have found ambrosia?”

“I have found someone worth venerating.”

“Share this venerable one’s teaching.”

Upatiṣya then spoke in verse:

“Those phenomena that arise from causes,

The Tathāgata himself has taught

That they have a cause and also a cessation.

The Great Śramaṇa is the one who thus proclaims.”

“Venerable, please repeat it one more time. Venerable, say it again.”

“Those phenomena that arise from causes,

The Tathāgata himself has taught

That they have a cause and also a cessation.

The Great Śramaṇa is the one who thus proclaims.”

Once Upatiṣya had explained this aspect of the Dharma, Kolita too came to see phenomena through the unclouded and pristine
eyes of Dharma. Kolita saw the Dharma, heard the Dharma, knew the Dharma, plumbed the depths of the Dharma, overcame his skepticism,
transcended doubt, could not be swayed by others, and could not be led astray by others. Having gained a fearless confidence in the
Dharma taught by the Teacher, he stood up from his seat, pulled his shawl from one shoulder, bowed to Upatiṣya with his palms
pressed together, and spoke in verse:

“This is the Dharma of saviors.

For millions upon billions of eons

I have neither seen it nor heard it.

May I come to realize

This immortal and peaceful state.”

“Venerable, where is the Blessed One now?”

“At the Kalandakanivāpa, in the Bamboo Park outside Rājagṛha.”

“Come. We must live the holy life under the guidance of the Blessed One.”

“But venerable, we must first see our followers; for it is only proper that knowledgeable and prominent people like us
visit our followers.”

So the wandering mendicants Upatiṣya and Kolita went to the young brahmins and said, “Young brahmins, listen. What will you
do if we two go to live the holy life under the guidance of the Blessed One?”

“Preceptors, the little we seek, we seek because of you;
so if you two preceptors go to live the holy life under the guidance of the Blessed One and go forth, we too will go forth.”

“Young brahmins, then know that the time has come.”

Upatiṣya and Kolita and their students, 250 apiece, then went to the Kalandakanivāpa in the Bamboo Park.

At the time, the venerable Aśvajit was seated, taking shelter from the sun at the foot of a tree. The wandering mendicants
Upatiṣya and Kolita saw the venerable Aśvajit from a long way off. On seeing him, Upatiṣya asked Kolita, “Kolita, do we first pay
our respects to the Blessed One, or to the one from whom we have heard of his Dharma?”

“To the one from whom we have heard of his Dharma.”

The two of them went to the venerable Aśvajit. Reaching him, they prostrated at his feet, before taking a seat off to one
side.

At that point, a brahmin who loved fire paid respect and homage. He then spoke a verse of the Blessed One’s:

“Like a pure brahmin does to fire,

Bow with respect to the one,

Whether he be young or old,

Who tells you of the Dharma.”

When Upatiṣya and Kolita had prostrated at the feet of Aśvajit, they left and went to where the Blessed One was.

At the time, the Blessed One was seated, teaching Dharma amidst many hundreds of monk followers. The Blessed One saw
Upatiṣya and Kolita from a long way off. When he saw them, he said to the monks, “Monks, embrace your friends, bring them to the
head of the assembly, let them come before you. Do you see Upatiṣya and Kolita, or do you see venerable ones? These two will become
my disciples, my foremost and noblest pair, for one shall become the greatest of miracle workers, and the other shall become the
wisest of the wise.”

A monk then spoke a verse:

“To what the Teacher knows there is no end,

His mind the perfection of human capacity.

The Blessed One has reached saṃsāra’s end,

So before our friends Upatiṣya and Kolita

Arrived in the Bamboo Park

He foresaw their coming

And said with certainty among this gathering:

‘These two will become

The foremost among all my disciples.

One will be the greatest

Of miracle workers;

The other will be

The wisest of the wise.’ ”

Upatiṣya and Kolita then approached the Blessed One, prostrated at his feet, and made the following request: “If we are
permitted, reverend, we would receive the going forth, ordination, and monkhood in the well-proclaimed Dharma and Vinaya. We would
live the holy life in the Blessed One’s presence.”

The Blessed One allowed goings forth by saying the phrase, “Come, monk,” and so as soon as he said, “Come, monks, live the
holy life,” their hair fell out and they were clad in robes, with
but a week’s growth of hair and beard, begging bowls and water jars in hand, settled, with the composure of monks who had been
ordained for one hundred years.

Again it is said:

Hair tonsured and body clad in robes

By the Tathāgata’s call to come forth,

That moment, their senses were perfectly stilled

For then will your body be swathed in the Buddha’s mind.

Early the next morning, a great many monks put on their under robes, took up their begging bowls and robes and entered
Rājagṛha to beg for alms. When the people of Rājagṛha saw that members of Sañjayin’s tīrthika community had renounced it and joined
the Buddha’s renunciant order, they quickly became disappointed and visibly upset. Vilifying the monks, they
spoke in verse:

“The Buddha has come to Rājagṛha,

Magadha’s premier city,

And led away all Sañjayin’s students

Only when there was naught else to lead away.”

The monks were crestfallen, upset, and lost their fearlessness.

Having gone to collect alms in Rājagṛha, the great many monks ate what they had been given and, as alms are not sought
after noon, packed their begging bowls and robes, washed their feet, and went, hurting and upset, to see the Blessed One. As they
arrived, the great many monks prostrated at the Blessed One’s feet, sat off to one side, and told the Blessed One, “Reverend, early
this morning a great many of us monks put on our robes, picked up our begging bowls and robes, and went to Rājagṛha to collect alms.
There, when the people of Rājagṛha saw that members of Sañjayin’s tīrthika community had renounced it and joined the Buddha’s
renunciant order, they quickly became disappointed and visibly upset. Vilifying us, they spoke in verse:

“The Buddha has come to Rājagṛha,

Magadha’s premier city, and

And led away all Sañjayin’s students

Only when there was naught else to lead away.”

“With this, we became crestfallen, upset, and lost our fearlessness.”

“Monks,” instructed the Blessed One, “say this to the people of Rājagṛha who say such things:

“ ‘Here the mighty sugatas

Lead with the sublime Dharma.

What wise man could reject

Such noble leadership?’

“That will dispel all the vanity and self-assurance of the people of Rājagṛha who speak like that.”

Early the next morning, a great many monks put on their robes, took up their begging bowls and robes, and entered Rājagṛha
to beg for alms. When the people of Rājagṛha saw that members of Sañjayin’s tīrthika community had renounced it and joined the
Buddha’s renunciant order, they soon become disappointed and visibly upset. Vilifying the monks, they again spoke the same verse:

“The Buddha has come to Rājagṛha,

Magadha’s premier city,

And led away all Sañjayin’s students

Only when there was naught else to lead away.”

One monk then replied:

“Here the mighty sugatas

Lead with the sublime Dharma.

What wise man could reject

Such noble leadership?”

With that statement he dispelled all the vanity and self-assurance of the people of Rājagṛha who spoke like that.

Some time later, the brahmin Māṭhara’s time came, as did his wife’s. The brahmin Tiṣya’s time came, as did Śārikā’s.
Tiṣya’s son, Koṣṭhila, returned to the village of Nālada from the South where he had taken up with the Lokāyata ascetics. The village gatekeeper recognized him and asked,
“Sir, are you Koṣṭhila?”

“People know me thus. What has become of the brahmin Māṭhara?”

“His time came.”

“What has become of his wife?”

“Her time came.”

“What has become of the brahmin Tiṣya?”

“His time came too.”

“What has become of Śārikā?”

“Her time came too.”

“What has become of Śāriputra?”

“Shortly after a teacher named Sañjayin appeared in Rājagṛha, he went forth and joined his renunciant order. Lately it has
become common for brahmins to go forth.”

Koṣṭhila then made his way to Rājagṛha, and when he arrived there he asked, “What has become of the teacher Sañjayin?”

“His time came.”

“What has become of his tīrthika community?”

“They have all gone forth and joined the renunciant order around the ascetic Gautama.”

“It would have been good had the ascetic Gautama, who was prophesied to become king of the world, become royal priest.”

Koṣṭhila, who had taken the name Dīrghanakha when he became a wandering mendicant, went to see the Blessed One. When he arrived, he
and the Blessed One were clearly overjoyed to see one another and exchanged warm words of goodwill before Dīrghanakha sat off to one
side. As he sat there off to one side, Dīrghanakha said to the Blessed One, “O Gautama, no self endures.”

“Son of a self-immolator, even that
view you hold, which views all forms of self as unable to endure, does not itself endure.”

“Agreed, O Gautama,” replied Dīrghanakha, “even that view which views all forms of self as unable to endure does not itself
endure.”

“Son of a self-immolator, then know this: if you see it like that, that view too will be abandoned, discarded, and cease to
be. Other views too will not be entertained, embraced, or arise.”

“O Gautama, I know this, that if it is seen like that, that view too will be abandoned, discarded, and cease to be. Other
views too will not be entertained, embraced, or arise.”

The Blessed One replied at length, “Son of a self-immolator, you are like and akin to most people, for most people also view things thus and say such things, and in that you are
just like them. Son of a self-immolator, in this world those ascetics and brahmins who discard this view, and those ascetics and
brahmins who do not embrace other views, are said to be the fewest of the few.

“Son of a self-immolator, there are three positions regarding the view. What are those three positions? Son of a
self-immolator, regarding this point, some hold the view and argue that all selves endure. Others hold the view and argue that no
self endures, while still others hold the view and argue that some selves endure and other selves do not endure.

“Son of a self-immolator, in holding that all selves endure, attachment will arise and attachment will not disappear;
aversion will arise and aversion will not disappear; confusion will arise and confusion will not disappear; accumulation will occur
and accumulation will not disappear; fetters will occur and fetters will not disappear; and defilement will arise and purification will not occur. With this view that holds that all selves endure, eager anticipation, pursuit,
and excessive attachment will arise.

“Son of a self-immolator, in holding that no self endures, attachment will disappear and attachment will not arise;
aversion will disappear and aversion will not arise; confusion will disappear and confusion will not arise; accumulation will
disappear and accumulation will not occur; one will be free of fetters and fetters will not occur; and purification will occur and defilement will disappear.
With this view that holds that no self endures, there will be no eager anticipation, no pursuit, and excessive attachment will
disappear.

“Son of a self-immolator, regarding the view that some selves endure and other selves do not endure, in holding that some
selves do endure, attachment will arise and attachment will not disappear; aversion will arise and aversion will not disappear;
confusion will arise and confusion will not disappear; accumulation will occur and accumulation will not disappear; fetters will
occur and fetters will not disappear; and defilement will arise and purification will not occur. With
this view that holds that some selves endure, eager anticipation, pursuit, and excessive attachment will arise. At the same time, in
holding that some selves do not endure, attachment will disappear and attachment will not arise; aversion will disappear and
aversion will not arise; confusion will disappear and confusion will not arise; accumulation will disappear and accumulation will
not occur; one will be free of fetters and fetters will not occur; and purification will occur and
defilement will disappear. With this view that holds that some selves do not endure, there will be no eager anticipation, no
pursuit, and excessive attachment will disappear.

“Learned noble disciples scrutinize the first position in this way: if one holds the view and argues that all selves
endure, then the view and argument that no self endures and the
view and argument that some selves endure while other selves do not endure would counter and undermine the self; if it counters, it
would undermine, and if it undermines, it would debunk the self.

“In correctly seeing the countering, the undermining, and the debunking thus done, that view too would be abandoned and
other views would not be embraced. Thus that view of self too would be abandoned, discarded, and cease to be, while other views too
would not be entertained, embraced, or arise.

“Learned noble disciples scrutinize the second position in this way: if one holds the view and argues that no self endures,
then the view and argument that all selves endure and the view and argument that some selves endure while other selves do not endure
would counter and undermine the self; if it counters, it would undermine, and if it undermines, it would debunk the self.

“In correctly seeing the countering, the undermining, and the debunking thus done, that view too would be abandoned and
other views would not be embraced. Thus that view of self too would be abandoned, discarded, and cease to be, while other views too
would not be entertained, embraced, or arise.

“Learned noble disciples scrutinize the third position in this way: if one holds the view and argues that some selves
endure while other selves do not endure, the view and argument that all selves endure and the view and argument that no selves
endure would counter and undermine the self; if it counters, it would undermine, and if
it undermines, it would debunk the self.

“In correctly seeing the countering, the undermining, and the debunking thus done, that view too would be abandoned and
other views would not be embraced. Thus that view of self too would be abandoned, discarded, and cease to be, while other views too would not be entertained, embraced, or arise.

“Son of a self-immolator, as this body is composed of gross form and arises from the four great elements, noble disciples
observe and dwell on its repeated arising and destruction. If noble disciples observe and dwell on its repeated arising and
destruction, whatever aspirations, attachment, craving, obsessions, preoccupations, or excessive attachment may arise towards the
body will be confronted and will not remain.

“Son of a self-immolator, there are three feelings. What are these three? Pleasure, pain, and that which is neither
pleasant nor painful. Son of a self-immolator, when noble disciples experience feelings of pleasure, then feelings of pain and
feelings which are neither pleasant nor painful come to a halt. At that time noble disciples experience only feelings of pleasure
yet feelings of pleasure too are subject to impermanence, suffering, and cessation.

“When noble disciples experience feelings of pain, then feelings of pleasure and feelings which are neither pleasant nor
painful come to a halt. At that time, noble disciples experience only feelings of pain yet feelings of pain too are subject to
impermanence, suffering, and cessation.

“When noble disciples experience feelings which are neither pleasant nor painful, then feelings of pleasure and pain come
to a halt. At that time, noble disciples experience only feelings that are neither pleasant nor painful yet feelings that are neither pleasant nor painful too are subject to
impermanence, suffering, and cessation.

“Thus they think, ‘What is the basis for these feelings? What are their origins? What types of things are compatible with
them? What has produced their arising?’ On reflection, the basis for these feelings is contact, their origins lie in contact, they
are compatible with contact, what has produced them is contact. Thus contact of different types occurs, prompting feelings of
different types to arise. Contact of different types cease, prompting feelings of different types to cease, to calm, to cool off, to
fade away. Thus when they experience feelings that are pleasant, painful or neither pleasant nor painful, they thoroughly and
precisely understand their origins, their fading, their flavor, their shortcomings, and their perfect renunciation.

“When they thoroughly and precisely understand their origins, their fading, their flavor, their shortcomings, and their
perfect renunciation, they view and rest in the impermanence of any feeling that arises, they view its dwindling, they view its
disintegration, they view it free of desirous attachment, they view its cessation, and view and rest
in its utter abandonment.

“When they view and rest in the impermanence of any feeling that arises while viewing its dwindling, viewing its disintegration, viewing it free of desirous attachment, viewing its cessation, and viewing and resting in
its utter abandonment, they are not taken in, even in the slightest, by the world. If they are not taken in, there will be no
torment. If there is no torment, they will understand that their births have come to an end, that they have
lived the holy life, that they have done what needed doing, and that they will know no lives after this one.
Thus they themselves will altogether transcend misery. When they
experience the body’s most basic feelings, they thoroughly and
precisely understand them with the thought, ‘I am experiencing the body’s most basic feelings.’ When they experience the
life-force’s most basic feeling, they thoroughly and precisely
understand it with the thought, ‘I am experiencing the life-force’s most basic feeling.’

“Since the life-force comes to an end after the body has perished, all of that life’s feelings, every last one of them,
come to a halt, every last one of them fades away, every last one of them dwindles away, and every last one of them comes to an end.
Thus they think, ‘When I experience feelings of pleasure, if the body should perish, that will be the end of suffering. When I
experience feelings of pain and feelings that are neither pleasant nor painful, if the body should perish, that will be the end of
suffering.’

“Thus when they experience the feeling of pleasure, it is unaccompanied, it is not accompanied by experiences. When they
experience the feeling of pain or a feeling that is neither pleasant nor painful, it is unaccompanied, it is not accompanied by
experiences.

“What does not accompany their death? It is not accompanied by desire, aversion, or confusion. It is not accompanied by
birth, aging, illness, death, mourning, cries of misery, pain, unease, or disturbance. It is not, I argue, accompanied by
suffering.”

During this talk, the venerable Śāriputra, who had been ordained two weeks earlier, sat, fanning the Blessed One. Śāriputra
then had this thought: “The Blessed One has praised the abandonment of such phenomena along with the freedom from, the cessation of,
and the utter abandonment of desire. I, too, should observe and abide by the abandonment of such phenomena, and should observe
freedom from desire. I, too, should observe and abide by the
abandonment of such phenomena, and its cessation. I, too, should observe and abide by its utter abandonment.”

Śāriputra then observed and abided by the abandonment of such phenomena. He proceeded to observe freedom from desire,
observe its cessation, and observe and abide by its utter abandonment. As he observed and abided by the abandonment of such
phenomena and proceeded to observe freedom from desire, observe its cessation, and observe and abide by its utter abandonment, his
mind, in the absence of grasping, was freed from defilements.

The wandering mendicant Dīrghanakha, too, came to see phenomena through the unclouded and pristine eyes of Dharma.
Dīrghanakha saw the Dharma, heard the Dharma, knew the Dharma, plumbed the depths of the Dharma, overcame his skepticism,
transcended doubt, could not be swayed by others, and could not be led astray by others.

With his new-found fearless confidence in the Dharma taught by the Teacher, he stood up from his seat, pulled his shawl
from one shoulder, bowed to the Blessed One with his palms pressed together, and made the following request to the Blessed One: “If
it is permitted, reverend, I would receive the going forth, ordination, and monkhood in the well-proclaimed Dharma and Vinaya. I
would live the holy life in the Blessed One’s presence.”

The Blessed One allowed goings forth by saying the phrase, “Come, monk,” and so as soon as he said, “Come, monks, live the
holy life,” his hair fell out and he was clad in robes. With but a week’s growth of hair and beard, begging bowls and water jars in
hand, having completed his approach to monkhood, he stood with the deportment of a monk who had been ordained for one hundred
years.

Again it is stated:

“Hair tonsured and body clad in robes

By the Tathāgata’s call to come forth,

That moment, his senses were perfectly stilled

And body swathed in the Buddha’s mind.”

With this going forth, Dīrghanakha went to live alone in solitude, diligent and persevering, devoted to his resolve. While
living alone in solitude, diligent and persevering, devoted to his resolve, he perceived that he had, in that
very life, actualized the unsurpassed aim of the holy life for which the sons of noble families, with perfect faith, cut their hair,
shave their beards, don the saffron robes, and go forth from home into homelessness. With his achievement, he understood, “My births
have come to an end, I have lived the holy life, I have done what needed doing, I will know no lives after this one.” Thus the
venerable one achieved the all-knowing state of an arhat whose mind had been utterly freed.

An intervening summary:

“All selves do not endure”;

“You who view things thus,

You are just like them”;

Worldly persons, ascetics, and brahmins,

And their three positions on the view;

Learned noble disciples;

Body, feelings, and the cessation of the basis for feelings;

Understanding their origin and the like;

Transcending misery, the most basic of body and life-force;

Life ends unaccompanied,

With the perishing of the body,

And the end of suffering;

And, lastly, Śāriputra.

The Blessed One said to the monks, “Monks, among my monk disciples who have gained the knowledge of perfect discernment,
the monk Koṣṭhila is supreme.”

In doubt, the monks went to him who severs all doubts, the Blessed Buddha, and asked, “Reverend, what is it that the
venerable Śāriputra has done, that the ripened fruit of that action has made his intellect sharper, finer, and more incisive?”

“Monks,” replied the Blessed One, “Śāriputra himself discovered the store of action, mastered
conditions, tended to them as one does an irrigation channel, and emerged without indecision. As he himself acted and accumulated
thus, no one else experiences the results of actions and accumulations as Śāriputra has done. Monks, actions committed and accumulated do not ripen in the external element of earth. Neither do they ripen in the element of water, nor the element of fire, nor the element of wind. Actions committed and accumulated, whether virtuous or non-virtuous, ripen only into the appropriated aggregates, constituent elements, and seats of the senses.

“Actions never waste away,

Not even after one hundred eons.

When the time and the conditions

Are right, they alight upon embodied beings.

“Monks, long ago a brahmin who lived in a remote mountain range took a wife of equal caste and together they played with,
took pleasure in, and amused one another. From their play, pleasure, and amusement, there came a boy whom they named Śūrpī. Again,
they played with, took pleasure in, and amused one another, producing a girl, whom they named Sūkṣmā. After a while, their brahmin
father’s time came, as did his wife’s. The young brahmin Śūrpī, because he loved solitude, took his sister to live in a remote
forest.

“At a certain point, his sister Sūkṣmā grew into a woman and at the time, beset by disturbing emotions, said, ‘Brother, I
cannot be sustained by the medicinal plants in this forest. Let us go to the outskirts of town.’

“So Śūrpī took his sister to the outskirts of town, and as they approached a house to beg alms, a brahmin sitting in his
home heard the voice of a man speaking to a woman. On hearing this, the brahmin came out and asked, ‘What is a sage doing traveling
with a wife?’

“ ‘This is not my wife. This is my younger sister. Would you give us a little something to eat?’

“ ‘I will not. And if I refuse, would you give me your sister?’

“ ‘That would be a sin and I reject such ignoble principles.’

“Sūkṣmā said, ‘Brother, the medicinal plants in this
forest do not sustain me, so it was I who suggested we go to the edge of town. Why did I suggest it? Incapacitated as I am by
emotions, I trusted you would know what to do.’

“ ‘I will give a large dowry and take her as my bride,’ said the brahmin.

“ ‘Brother, let us leave,’ said Sūkṣmā, and together they stepped away.

“Śūrpī said, ‘It is because I do not pursue desires that I have gone to remote places.’

“ ‘Then, brother, should you attain even the slightest store of qualities, you must come share them with me.’

“Śūrpī went off into the wilds and, without a preceptor or instructor, gave rise to the thirty-seven qualities conducive to
awakening and actualized his own awakening. He then thought, ‘I promised to share any such attainment with my
sister, so I must do so.’

“Great persons teach the Dharma through their actions and not their words. So, out of the great love
and compassion Śūrpī felt, like a swan spreading its wings, he flew up into the sky above and began to miraculously invoke flashes
and bursts of light, clouds and lightning. Now, because ordinary beings are swift to pay heed to miracles, Sūkṣmā dropped like a
felled tree at the pratyekabuddha’s feet and said, ‘Noble one! Have you found such a store of qualities?’

“ ‘I have.’

“ ‘Noble one, accept these alms. I seek merit, so please stay here and let me provide you all the provisions you need.’

“ ‘Sister, first ask your husband.’

“She went to the brahmin, her husband, and said, ‘Son of a lord, my brother has gone forth, accomplished his vow, and
become a great being. Please allow him to stay and I will offer him all the provisions he needs.’

“Her husband replied, ‘If I give to laymen without being asked, why would I not give to a renunciant who has lived up to his vows and become a saint? Go, do as you please and offer
him all the provisions he needs.’

“After three months, during which she offered the pratyekabuddha all the provisions he needed, she offered him a piece of
cotton cloth large enough to be worn as a robe, a needle, a razor, and thread. He accepted the cotton cloth, needle, razor, and
thread, and began to cut the cloth in front of her. As he sharpened the razor’s blade, Sūkṣmā prostrated at his feet and said this
prayer: ‘Just as this razor’s blade becomes sharper and sharper, may these roots of virtue sharpen my intellect.’

“The pratyekabuddha began to poke holes with the needle and as the needle made finer and finer holes, Sūkṣmā prostrated at
his feet and said this prayer: ‘Just as this needle pokes finer and finer holes, may these roots of virtue refine my intellect.’

“The pratyekabuddha began to sew with the thread and as the thread passed through the cloth unhindered, Sūkṣmā prostrated
at his feet and said this prayer: ‘Just as this thread passes unhindered through cloth, may these roots of virtue help me develop an
incisive intellect.’

“Monks, at that time the monk Śāriputra was the brahmin’s daughter Sūkṣmā. That action of making offerings and prayers to
the pratyekabuddha ripened so that now his intellect is sharp, fine, and incisive.

“Monks, the ripened fruits of wholly negative actions are wholly negative, and the ripened fruits of mixed actions are
mixed, but the ripened fruits of wholly positive actions are wholly positive.

“Monks, therefore abandon wholly negative and mixed actions and seek wholly positive actions. Monks, this is how you should train.”

Still in doubt, the monks questioned him who severs all doubts, the Blessed Buddha, “Reverend, what has the venerable
Śāriputra done that the ripened fruit of his action has led to his birth into a family that is neither extremely rich nor extremely
poor, but into a family of moderate means with many renunciants?”

The Blessed One replied, “Monks, Śāriputra himself discovered the store of action, mastered conditions, tended to them as
one does an irrigation channel, and emerged without indecision. He himself acted and accumulated this store, and so no one else
experiences Śāriputra’s actions and accumulations for themselves. Monks, actions and accumulations do not ripen upon the external
elements. They do not ripen upon the element of water, upon the element of fire, nor upon the element of wind. Virtuous and
nonvirtuous actions performed and accumulated come to ripen upon the aggregates, elements, and seats of the senses of the one who
performed them:

“Actions never waste away,

Not even after one hundred eons.

When the time and the conditions

Are right, they alight upon embodied beings.

“Monks, long ago a king who lived in a remote mountain range took a wife of equal caste and together they played with, took
pleasure in, and amused one another. From their play, pleasure, and amusement, there came a boy, whom they nurtured and raised until
he grew into a man. Seeing that his father ruled in ways compatible with the principles of justice, the boy thought, ‘When my father
passes, I will become king. If I exercise my royal authority in ways compatible with the principles of justice, in a later life I
will go to hell.’

“He went to the king and said, ‘Father, grant me leave. I wish to go forth in the well-proclaimed Dharma and Vinaya.’

“The king replied, ‘Son, the royal authority, for which
you have made offerings to the gods, performed fire pūja, and suffered through austerities, is within reach. Having been born into a
caste borne about by elephants, why would you renounce it?’

“And with that his father refused to let him go forth.

“Some time later, the boy set out, riding astride the neck of an elephant, when he saw a poor man on his begging rounds
holding a staff and a broken beggar’s bowl. The prince went to him and said, ‘Householder, because I was born into a wealthy family,
I could not get consent to go forth. You are poor, so why have you not joined such an order?’

“ ‘Prince,’ he replied, ‘how could I go forth if I don’t have a begging bowl or robes?’

“ ‘Good man, come,’ said the prince. ‘I will give you a begging bowl and robes.’

“The prince then took him to the sanctuary of a sage endowed with the five types of heightened awareness. The prince got down from his perch atop the
elephant’s neck and said calmly, ‘Sir, this noble son wishes to go forth. Allow him to do so, and I shall provide
his begging bowl and robes.’

“So the sage allowed the beggar to go forth. The prince then washed a begging bowl and had robes cut, sewn, and dyed. He
handed them over to the former beggar and said, ‘Noble one, should you attain even the slightest store of qualities, you must tell
me.’

“He promised the prince he would do so and went off into the wilds. Without a preceptor or instructor, he gave rise to the
thirty-seven qualities conducive to awakening and actualized his own awakening. He then thought, ‘This small store of qualities I have attained, I have
attained with the help of the prince. I promised to share any such attainment with him, so I must do so.’

“Great persons teach the Dharma through their actions and
not their words. So out of the great love and compassion he felt, like a swan spreading its wings, he flew up into the sky above and
miraculously invoked flashes and bursts of light, clouds and lightning. Now, because ordinary beings are swift to pay heed to
miracles, the prince dropped like a felled tree at the pratyekabuddha’s feet and said, ‘Noble one! Have you found such a store of
qualities?’

‘I have.’

“The prince thought, ‘If the small store of qualities this noble being has attained, he has attained with my help, then
this noble being’s failure to get consent to go forth was due to his birth into a lowly family like his. My own failure to get
consent to go forth was due to my birth into a high family such as mine.’

“With that thought, he prostrated at the pratyekabuddha’s feet and made this prayer:

“ ‘By these roots of virtue,

May I be born, not in a wealthy house

Nor in one that is poor;

Let it be rather in a house of moderate means

And always among many renunciants.’

“Monks, the monk Śāriputra was at that time the prince. That action of making offerings and prayers to the pratyekabuddha
ripened so that now he was not born into too rich a family, nor into too poor a family, but rather into a family of moderate means
in which there were many renunciants.

“Monks, thus the ripened fruits of wholly negative actions are wholly negative while the ripened fruits of wholly positive
actions are wholly positive and the ripened fruits of mixed actions are mixed.

“Monks, therefore abandon wholly negative and mixed actions and seek wholly positive actions. Monks, this is how you should train.”

Still in doubt, the monks questioned him who severs all doubts, the Blessed Buddha, “Reverend, what has the venerable
Śāriputra done that the ripened fruit of his action has led him to be singled out by the Blessed One as the foremost of those with
great wisdom and the foremost of those with great confident eloquence?”

The Blessed One replied, “It is the prayers he made. What did he pray for? Monks, long ago during this fortunate eon, when
the lifespan of beings was twenty thousand years, the blessed Buddha Kāśyapa appeared in the world, a teacher, a tathāgata, an
arhat, a perfectly awakened buddha, a knowledgeable and venerable one, a sugata, one who knew the world, an unsurpassed guide who
tamed beings, a teacher to gods and men, who lived and dwelt in the Ṛṣipatana Deer Park near Vārāṇasī.

“A monk, he who would later become Śāriputra, went forth into Kāśyapa’s teachings and was singled out by the tathāgata, the
arhat, the perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa as the foremost of those with great wisdom and the foremost of those with great
confident eloquence.

“He lived the holy life for the rest of his days, but he did not attain any store of qualities. Later, as he was dying, he
made this prayer: ‘Although I have spent my entire life living the holy life under Kāśyapa, an arhat, a blessed tathāgata, a
perfectly awakened buddha and unsurpassed object of veneration, I have not attained any store of qualities. May the roots of virtue,
accumulated through living the holy life for my entire lifetime, ensure that I may go forth into the teachings of Buddha Śākyamuni,
about whom the arhat and blessed tathāgata and perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa has prophesied to the young brahmin Uttara, saying,
‘Young brahmin, in the future, when the lifespan of beings is one hundred years, you will become the tathāgata, the arhat, the
perfectly awakened Buddha, the knowledgeable and venerable one, the
sugata, the one who knows the world, the unsurpassed guide who tames beings, the teacher to gods and men known as the Blessed Buddha
Śākyamuni,’ and that I may go on to abandon all disturbing emotions and actualize arhatship. And just as I, this preceptor, was
singled out by the tathāgata, the arhat, and perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa as the wisest of the wise and the most confident of
the confident, may I too be singled out by the blessed sage of the Śākyas, lion of the Śākyas, king of the Śākyas, as the foremost
of those with great wisdom and the foremost of those with great confident eloquence.’

“Because of that prayer, Śāriputra has now been singled out by the Tathāgata as the foremost of those with great wisdom and
the foremost of those with great confident eloquence.”

“Reverend, what has the venerable, the great Maudgalyāyana done that the ripened fruit of his action has led to him being
the most powerful and the greatest miracle worker?”

The Blessed One replied, “Monks, Maudgalyāyana himself discovered the store of action, mastered conditions, tended to them
as one does an irrigation channel, and emerged without indecision. He himself acted and accumulated thus, so no one else experiences
Maudgalyāyana’s actions and accumulations for themselves. Monks, actions and accumulations do not ripen upon the external elements,
the element of water, the element of fire, nor upon the element of wind. The virtuous and nonvirtuous actions performed and
accumulated come to ripen upon the aggregates, elements and seats of the senses of the one who performed them:

“Actions never waste away,

Not even after one hundred eons.

When the time and the conditions

Are right, they alight upon embodied beings.

“Monks, long ago, in a sanctuary not very far from the city of Vārāṇasī, there lived a sage who personified loving
kindness. Endowed with compassion, he was kind to all sentient beings. One day, a poor man arrived at the sanctuary carrying a
bundle of wood. The sage saw him put down his bundle of wood before sitting down to rest. Feeling compassion for him, he thought,
‘He has been born a human, but because of faults committed in the past, this afflicted man must struggle very hard to make a living.
I shall allow his going forth.’

“The sage called out, ‘Son, who are you?’

“ ‘Noble one, I am a poor man who makes his living from wood.’

“ ‘Well then, why do you not go forth?’

“ ‘Noble one, if I am a poor man who must work very hard to forge a living by selling wood, who would allow me to go
forth?’

“Because the sage was the very personification of loving kindness, he felt tremendous compassion for the man and asked,
‘Son, do you wish to go forth?’

“ ‘Noble one, I want to go forth, so I ask that you, out of compassion, allow me.’

“The sage allowed him to go forth, then washed a begging bowl and dyed robes and gave them to him, saying, ‘Good
man, should you attain even the slightest store of qualities, you must tell me.’

“The man promised to do so and he went off into the wilds. Without a preceptor or instructor, he gave rise to the
thirty-seven qualities conducive to awakening and actualized his own awakening. Then he thought, ‘I promised to share any such
attainment with that sage, so I must do so.’

“Great persons teach the Dharma through their actions and not their words. So out of the great love and compassion he
felt, like a swan spreading its wings, he flew up into the sky
above and miraculously invoked flashes and bursts of light, clouds and lightning. As ordinary beings are swift to pay heed to
miracles, the sage dropped like a felled tree at the pratyekabuddha’s feet and said, ‘Noble one! Have you found such a store of
qualities?’

“ ‘I have.’

“The sage thought, ‘The small store of qualities this noble being has attained, he has attained with my help,’ and with
that he prostrated at the pratyekabuddha’s feet and made this prayer, ‘Just as this noble being is powerful and a great miracle
worker, through these roots of virtue may I too become powerful and a great miracle worker.’

“The ripened fruits of wholly negative actions are wholly negative, while the ripened fruits of wholly positive actions are
wholly positive, and the ripened fruits of mixed actions are mixed.

“Monks, therefore abandon wholly negative and mixed actions and seek wholly positive actions. Monks, this is how you should
train.”

In doubt, the monks questioned him who severs all doubts, the Blessed Buddha, “Reverend, what is it that the venerable, the
great Maudgalyāyana has done, that the ripened fruit of his action has led the Blessed One to declare him to be the foremost of
great miracle workers and of those with great power?”

The Blessed One replied, “It is the prayers he made. What did he pray for? Monks, long ago during this fortunate eon, when
the lifespan of beings was twenty thousand years, the blessed Buddha Kāśyapa appeared in the world, a teacher, a tathāgata, an
arhat, a perfectly awakened buddha, a knowledgeable and venerable one, a sugata, one who knew the world, an unsurpassed guide who
tamed beings, a teacher to gods and men, who lived and dwelt in the Ṛṣipatana Deer Park near Vārāṇasī.

“A monk, he who would later become Maudgalyāyana, went forth into Buddha Kāśyapa’s teachings and was singled out by the
tathāgata, the arhat, the perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa as the foremost of great miracle workers and of those with great
power.

“He lived the holy life for the rest of his days, but he did not attain any store of qualities. Later, as he was dying, he
made this prayer: ‘I have spent my entire life living the holy life under Kāśyapa, the blessed tathāgata, the arhat, and perfectly
awakened Buddha and unsurpassed object of veneration, but I have not attained any store of qualities. May the roots of virtue
accumulated through living the holy life for my entire lifetime ensure that I may go forth into the teachings of Buddha Śākyamuni,
about whom the blessed tathāgata and perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa has prophesied to the young brahmin Uttara, saying ‘Young
brahmin, in the future, when the lifespan of beings is one hundred years, you will become the tathāgata, the arhat, the perfectly
awakened buddha, the knowledgeable and venerable one, the sugata, the one who knows the world, the unsurpassed guide who tames
beings, the teacher to gods and men known as the Blessed Buddha Śākyamuni,’ and that I may go on to abandon all disturbing emotions
and actualize arhatship. And just as I, this preceptor, was singled
out by the tathāgata, the arhat, and perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa as the most powerful of the powerful and the greatest of
miracle workers, may I too be singled out by the blessed sage of the Śākyas, lion of the Śākyas, king of the Śākyas, as the foremost
of great miracle workers and the foremost of those with great power.’

“Because of that prayer, Maudgalyāyana has now been singled out by the Tathāgata as the foremost of foremost of great
miracle workers and the foremost of those with great power.”

Still in doubt, the monks questioned him who severs all doubts, the Blessed Buddha, “Reverend, what is it that the
venerable Koṣṭhila has done, that the ripened fruit of his action has led him to be singled out by the Blessed One as the foremost
among those who have attained discerning wisdom?”

The Blessed One replied, “It is the prayers he made. What did he pray for? Monks, long ago during this fortunate eon, when
the lifespan of beings was twenty thousand years, the blessed Buddha Kāśyapa appeared in the world, a teacher, a tathāgata, an
arhat, a perfectly awakened buddha, a knowledgeable and venerable one, a sugata, one who knew the world, an unsurpassed guide who
tamed beings, a teacher to gods and men, who lived and dwelt in the Ṛṣipatana Deer Park near Vārāṇasī.

“A monk, he who would later become Koṣṭhila, went forth into Buddha Kāśyapa’s teachings and was singled out by the
tathāgata, the arhat, the perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa as foremost among those who have attained discerning wisdom.

“He lived the holy life for the rest of his days, but he did not attain any store of qualities. Later, as he was dying, he
made this prayer: ‘I have spent my entire life living the holy life under Kāśyapa, the blessed tathāgata, the arhat, and perfectly
awakened Buddha, and unsurpassed object of veneration, but I have
not attained any store of qualities. May the roots of virtue accumulated through living the holy life for my entire lifetime ensure
that I may go forth into the teachings of Buddha Śākyamuni, about whom the blessed tathāgata, the arhat, and perfectly awakened
Buddha Kāśyapa has prophesied to the young brahmin Uttara, saying, ‘Young brahmin, in the future, when the lifespan of beings is one
hundred years, you will become the tathāgata, the arhat, the perfectly awakened Buddha, the knowledgeable and venerable one, the
sugata, the one who knows the world, the unsurpassed guide who tames beings, the teacher to gods and men known as the blessed Buddha
Śākyamuni,’ and that I may go on to abandon all disturbing emotions and actualize arhatship. And just as this preceptor was singled
out by the tathāgata and perfectly awakened Buddha Kāśyapa as foremost among those who have attained discerning wisdom, may I too be
singled out by the blessed sage of the Śākyas, lion of the Śākyas, king of the Śākyas, as foremost among those who have attained
discerning wisdom.’

“Because of that prayer, he has now been singled out by the Tathāgata as foremost among those who have attained discerning
wisdom.”

Granting Ordination

In the time of the Blessed Buddha, one received the going forth, ordination, and monkhood in the well-proclaimed Dharma and
Vinaya in the following way: the Blessed Buddha allowed the postulants’ going forth and ordained them with the words, “Come, monk.”
Thus when a person approached a monk with the wish to go forth, the postulant was led before the Blessed One, knowing that when the
Blessed One said, “Come, monk,” he received the going forth, ordination, and monkhood in the well-proclaimed Dharma and Vinaya.

However, there came a case in which one postulant, while coming to see the Blessed One, died on the way and thus was
prevented from receiving the going forth, ordination, and monkhood in the well-proclaimed Dharma and Vinaya.
When the monks asked the Blessed One about it, he thought, “Alas! For those disciples who live a great distance
away, the journey can be arduous.” He then said, “In light of what has happened, from this day forward, I permit the saṅgha to allow
going forth and grant ordination.”

The Early Rite

Although the Blessed One had decreed, “The saṅgha should allow going forth and grant ordination,” they did not know how
to do that. So the monks asked the Blessed One about it, and he said, “If a person approaches a monk wishing to go forth, the
monk should accept him. Once this is done and the entire saṅgha has assembled, the postulant should don the robes and prostrate
to his seniors. The postulant should then kneel with palms joined and ask the saṅgha three times, after which the monk
petitioner makes a motion to ratify the motion. The postulant’s going forth is allowed and he is ordained the moment this very
act whose fourth member is a motion is accepted.”

The postulant’s request

The postulant would make the following request:

“Revered saṅgha, please listen. I, [postulant’s name], ask the saṅgha to allow my going forth and grant ordination
into the monkhood. I ask that the compassionate and
reverend saṅgha, out of compassion, allow my going forth and confer ordination on me.”

This would be repeated a second and a third time.

The monk’s request

After that, one monk would act on the request. While seated he would say the following:

“Revered saṅgha, please listen. [Postulant’s name] has asked the saṅgha to allow his going forth and grant
ordination into the monkhood. If the time is right and the saṅgha can accept it, I ask that the saṅgha grant their consent.
I ask that the saṅgha allow [postulant’s name] to go forth and grant him ordination.”

Acting on the motion

The request would be acted on in the following way:

“Revered saṅgha, please listen. [Postulant’s name] has asked the saṅgha to allow his going forth and grant
ordination into the monkhood. If the saṅgha allows his going forth and grants ordination, then I ask that any who can allow
the going forth of the venerable [postulant’s name] and his ordination remain silent. I ask that any who cannot accept it
speak up.”

After the first motion to act, the motion would be repeated a second and a third time. The saṅgha would
acknowledge its acceptance and give its consent that the going forth of such and such a monk be allowed and that he be
granted ordination by remaining silent.

Thus went the Early Rite.

Preceptors and Instructors

Because those whose going forth was allowed and who were ordained under the Early Rite had no preceptor or instructor,
they would go to the homes of brahmins and householders without being well washed or well dressed, while speaking shrilly and in
loud voices, and behaving wildly. While there, they would beg for food, implore others to beg for food, grovel for soup, implore
others to grovel for soup, and do still more that went against the teachings.

This prompted tīrthikas, knowledgeable men, and others to criticize, disparage, and slander them. They
would say, “Since these ascetic sons of the Śākya have no preceptor and no instructor, they go to the houses of brahmins and
householders without being well washed or well dressed, while speaking shrilly and in loud voices, and behaving wildly. While
there, they beg for food, implore others to beg for food, grovel for soup, and implore others to grovel for soup. Who would give
these shaven-headed ascetics alms or think to help them?”

One sick monk even died for lack of someone to nurse him. When that occurred, the monks asked the Blessed One about it,
and the Blessed One thought, “I should permit my disciples to act as preceptors and instructors, so
that they may allow others to go forth and care for the sick among them.”

The Blessed One proclaimed, “After considering the matter, I permit preceptors and instructors to allow going forth and
grant ordination.”

When the Blessed One had permitted preceptors and instructors to allow going forth and grant ordination, the monks
found themselves in a quandary, for they did not know what serving as a preceptor or instructor entailed.

So the Blessed One proclaimed, “There are five types of instructors and two types of preceptors. What are these five
types of instructors? They are instructors of novices, privy advisors, officiants, givers of instruction, and recitation
instructors. What is an instructor of novices? He is one who grants refuge and the foundations of the training. What is a privy advisor? He is one who inquires
into private matters. What is an officiant? He is one who moves to act upon an act whose fourth member is a motion. What is a
giver of refuge? He is one in whose presence you stay even for a single day. What is a recitation instructor? He is one who recites even a single verse of four lines
three times, which you then repeat. What are the two types of preceptor? They are those who allow going forth and those who
grant ordination.”

The Present Day Ordination Rite

When the Blessed One permitted preceptors and instructors to allow going forth and grant ordination, the monks found
themselves in a quandary, for they did not know how to do that. So the Blessed One proclaimed, “If someone approaches you with
the wish to go forth, you should ascertain whether he has any impediments by questioning him. Having ascertained this, he should
be given the layperson’s vows by having him go for refuge to the Three Jewels and promise to live as a lay brother.”

Giving the layperson’s vows and refuge precepts

How to give the layperson’s vows

This is how to give the layperson’s vows. First, the postulant should prostrate to the Teacher. Then, once he has been made
to prostrate, have him kneel before the instructor, join his palms together, and say:

“Reverend, heed me. I, [postulant’s name], will henceforth, for as long as I live, seek refuge in the Buddha,
supreme among men; I will seek refuge in the Dharma, supreme among all that is free from attachment; I will seek refuge
in the Saṅgha, supreme among communities. For as long as I live, I ask that you, reverend, accept me as a lay
brother.”

“This is the method.”

At which point the lay vow holder says:

“It is excellent.”

That is the giving of the layperson’s vows.

Pledging to keep the precepts

The postulant then expresses his commitment to the precepts with the following words:

“Instructor, heed me. Just as noble arhats renounced killing and swore to refrain from killing for as long as
they lived, so do I, [postulant’s name], henceforth,
for as long as I live, renounce killing and swear to refrain from killing. With this first branch, I pledge to train in,
practice, and act upon the precepts of those noble arhats. Furthermore, noble arhats
renounced and swore to refrain from stealing, sexual misconduct, lying, and intoxicating substances like grain alcohol
and its by-products, which leave one uninhibited. Just so do I, [postulant’s name], too, for as long as I live, renounce
and swear to refrain from stealing, sexual misconduct, lying, and intoxicating substances like grain alcohol and its
by-products, which leave one uninhibited. With this, the fifth branch, I pledge to train in, practice, and act upon the precepts of those noble arhats.”

The instructor then says:

“This is the method.”

At which point the lay vow holder says:

“It is excellent.”

This completes the layperson’s induction rite.

Going forth

Informing the saṅgha of the wish to go forth

The postulant should then be directed to the monk petitioner. The monk petitioner asks the preceptor:

“Have you inquired into the private matters?”

A breach occurs if he makes a petition without inquiring.

The monk petitioner then petitions the saṅgha in the following way. Having laid out sitting mats, he strikes
the gaṇḍī beam. Once he has informed the monks with a response to their queries, the entire saṅgha sits; either together
in consensus or each in his own dwelling. The postulant is then made to prostrate to the seniormost in the saṅgha before
taking his place in a kneeling position, with palms
pressed together. The monk petitioner then addresses the saṅgha with these words:

“I ask you, reverend saṅgha, to listen. The postulant [postulant’s name] has asked the preceptor [preceptor’s
name] to allow his going forth. He wants to leave the householder’s life, with its white clothes and unshaven head and
face, and go forth in the well-proclaimed Dharma and Vinaya. [Postulant’s name] wants to go forth and, having shaven
head and face, to don the saffron robes. He wants to go forth from home into homelessness under the guidance of this
preceptor [preceptor’s name] so that he may rely solely on what is right. And if indeed he too is without impediments,
should he be allowed to go forth?”

The whole saṅgha should reply:

“If he is without impediment, he should be allowed.”

If they say that, then all is well. A breach occurs if they do not.

That is how one informs the saṅgha of the wish to go forth.

Requesting the preceptor

Next, a request is made to the preceptor. The request should be made in the following way. The postulant is
made to prostrate to and then kneel before the preceptor. With palms pressed together, he should say:

“Instructor, heed me. I, [postulant’s name], ask you, instructor, to serve as preceptor. Instructor, please
act as my preceptor. Instructor, as preceptor, please allow my going forth.”

He repeats this a second and a third time, but the third time he should say “preceptor” in place of
“instructor.” The preceptor then says:

“This is the method.”

To which the person wishing to go forth says:

“It is excellent.”

That is the request to the preceptor.

The postulant should then be entrusted to a monk who will shave the postulant’s hair and beard. The Blessed One
decreed, “Do not shave off all of his hair but rather leave a tuft of hair at his crown.” So, after shaving off nearly
all the postulant’s hair, the monk should ask the postulant:

“Shall I cut this tuft?”

If he answers “No, do not cut it,” then tell him to go.

But if he answers “Yes, I am happy for you to do so,” then cut it.

The postulant is then made to bathe. If the weather is cold, he may bathe with warm water. If the weather is
warm, he should bathe with cold water.

The preceptor should then give him a begging bowl and saffron robes, which he accepts after bowing at the
preceptor’s feet. The preceptor should then dress the postulant, checking to ensure he is not a person without
genitalia, a person with two sets of genitalia, or a person with a fistula.

The Blessed One decreed that postulants should be examined, but the embarrassment that the monks’ examination
caused to the naked and exposed postulants prompted the Blessed One to decree, “Do not examine him while naked. Examine
him without his knowing, while he is putting on the under robe.”

That is how the first part of the ceremony should be performed.

Allowing the postulant’s going forth

Then the postulant should be inducted as a renunciant by first going for refuge. This is how he should be
inducted.

The postulant is first made to prostrate to the Teacher. Then he is made to prostrate to the preceptor and
kneel before him. Having pressed his palms together, he should say:

“Preceptor, heed me. I, [postulant’s name], will henceforth, for as long as I live, seek refuge in the Buddha,
supreme among men; I will seek refuge in the Dharma, supreme among all that is free from attachment; I will seek refuge
in the Saṅgha, supreme among communities. Following the example of going forth set by the Blessed One, the tathāgata,
the arhat, the perfectly complete Buddha Śākyamuni, the lion of the Śākyas, the king of the Śākyas, I, in going forth,
renounce the tokens of the householder life and embrace the tokens of the renunciant life.”

He repeats this a second and a third time. The preceptor then says:

“This is the method.”

At which point the renunciant says:

“It is excellent.”

That is the induction as a renunciant.

Becoming a novice

Inducting the postulant into the novitiate

The postulant is then directed to the monk who will induct him into the novitiate. He again asks the preceptor
whether the postulant is without impediments, and if, upon asking, he is, he should be inducted into the novitiate by
going for refuge and promising to live as a novice.

The postulant should be inducted into the novitiate in the following way. The postulant is first made to
prostrate to the Teacher. Then he is made to prostrate to and kneel before the instructor. Then, with his palms pressed
together, he should say :

“Reverend, heed me. I, [postulant’s name], will henceforth, for as long as I live, seek refuge in the Buddha,
supreme among men; I will seek refuge in the Dharma, supreme among pure doctrines; I will seek refuge in the Saṅgha,
supreme among communities. I ask that you, reverend, accept me as a novice for as long as I live.”

The postulant repeats this a second and a third time, but the third time he says “instructor” in place of
“reverend.” The instructor then says: