Mahāyāna — Northern Canon · Kangyur — General Sūtras

Toh 340The Hundred Deeds

Pāli / Sanskrit:Karmaśataka

📖33,453 words · ~134 min read

Summary

Summary The sūtra The Hundred Deeds , whose title could also be translated as The Hundred Karmas , is a collection of stories known as avadāna —a narrative genre widely represented in the Sanskrit Buddhist literature and its derivatives—comprising more than 120 individual texts. It includes narratives of Buddha Śākyamuni’s notable deeds and foundational teachings, the stories of other well-known Buddhist figures, and a variety of other tales featuring people from all walks of ancient Indian life and beings from all six realms of existence. The texts sometimes include stretches of verse. In the majority of the stories the Buddha’s purpose in recounting the past lives of one or more individuals is to make definitive statements about the karmic ripening of actions across multiple lifetimes, and the sūtra is perhaps the best known of the many works in the Kangyur on this theme.

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Full translation (English)

Summary

The sūtra The Hundred Deeds, whose title
could also be translated as The Hundred Karmas, is
a collection of stories known as avadāna—a narrative genre widely represented in the Sanskrit
Buddhist literature and its derivatives—comprising more than 120 individual
texts. It includes narratives of Buddha Śākyamuni’s notable deeds and
foundational teachings, the stories of other well-known Buddhist figures, and a
variety of other tales featuring people from all walks of ancient Indian life
and beings from all six realms of existence. The texts sometimes include
stretches of verse. In the majority of the stories the Buddha’s purpose in
recounting the past lives of one or more individuals is to make definitive
statements about the karmic ripening of actions across multiple lifetimes, and
the sūtra is perhaps the best known of the many works in the Kangyur on this
theme.

《百業經》是大乘敘事文學的經典之作，也是西藏大師們註釋《丹珠爾》時經常引述的經文。包含上下兩卷的《百業經》，用寓言的敘事文體，講述佛陀重要的事蹟以及基本教法。它是從古印度各行各業的生活中，精選出豐富多彩的故事，說明生生世世的業因果報如何成熟現前。《百業經》還有一個特點，是用偈頌的方式讓人容易記憶，它還使用生動的隱喻，預言佛法消失後可怕的世界景象。

頁數: 873 頁

Acknowledgements

Translated by Dr. Lozang Jamspal (International Buddhist College,
Thailand) and Kaia Fischer of the Tibetan Classics Translators Guild of New York
(TCTGNY). Introduction by Nathan Mitchell, with additional material by the 84000
editorial team.

Warm thanks to Dr. Tom Tillemans, Dr. John Canti, Dr. James Gentry, Adam
Krug, Ven. Konchog Norbu, Janna White, and all the readers and editors at 84000,
for their wisdom; to Huang Jing Rui, Amy Ang, and the entire administration and
staff at 84000, for their compassion; to readers Dr. Irene Cannon-Geary, Dr.
Natalie M. Griffin, Tom Griffin, Norman Guberman, Margot Jarrett, Dr. David
Kittay, Dr. Susan Landesman, Megan Mook, and Dr. Toy-Fung Tung, as well as to
every member of TCTGNY, for their diligence and sincerity; to Caithlin De
Marrais, Tinka Harvard, Laren McClung, and Erin Sperry, for their adept
revisions to passages of verse; to Dr. Paul Hackett, for his linguistic and
technical expertise; to Dr. Tenzin Robert Thurman and the late Prof. Dr. Michael
Hahn, for their insight; to Dr. Lauran Hartley, for her capable assistance in
researching the introduction; to Dr. Donald J. LaRocca, for his thoughtful
clarification of terms pertaining to arms and armor; and to Jennifer E. Fischer,
for her generosity in formatting the translation.

Special thanks to Ven. Wei Wu and all of the students, faculty, and staff
of the International Buddhist College, Thailand, for their warm welcome of the
senior translator Dr. Jamspal, and to Cynthia H. Wong, for her kindheartedness
toward the junior translator Kaia Fischer.

Through the devoted attention of all may the Buddhadharma smile upon us
for countless ages, safeguarded by knowledge of the classical Tibetan
language.

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

Work on this translation was rendered possible by the generous
donations of a number of sponsors: Zhou Tian Yu, Chen Yi Qin, Irene Tillman,
Archie Kao and Zhou Xun; 恒基伟业投资发展集团有限公司，李英、李杰、李明、李一全家; Thirty, Twenty and family; and Ye
Kong, Helen Han, Karen Kong and family. Their help is most gratefully
acknowledged.

Introduction

The Hundred Deeds

is a collection of stories or avadāna, a narrative genre widely represented in the Sanskrit
Buddhist literature and its derivatives. The term avadāna can be analyzed and understood in several
ways. One common interpretation is “legend,” but that
understanding is perhaps too rigid, as well as too romantic, for what could
be described as religious or spiritual biography. The general
intention of avadāna literature is to elicit faith and devotion in the
reader through an object lesson in karmic cause and effect: how, for
example, a noble act motivated by faith and devotion toward the Three Jewels
(Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha), or toward another object of veneration, yields
a good result, while the result of an ignoble act is dreadful. Historically,
the specific functions of avadāna literature were to propagate Buddhism and
to provide inspiration and preliminary education in the Dharma, particularly
for laypersons and the recently ordained. It can
still perform these functions today.

The collection was written at the beginning of the Common Era, and
is most likely the product of the Sarvāstivādin school of Mahāyāna
Buddhism; it is thus likely to have
originated in the northwest of India in the vicinity of Kashmir. Léon Feer,
a late nineteenth century scholar of The Hundred
Deeds, suggests that the Sarvāstivādins were not responsible for
the Sanskrit text, but does not offer any indication of which school he
believes may have been responsible. Whatever the case may be, the Tibetan text closely
resembles the texts of the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya found in the Kangyur in
its wording and in its structural format—in parts, each with its list of
contents. Indeed it shares with that corpus a large number of passages, not
only stock phrases and modular passages but also whole episodes.

The Hundred Deeds survives exclusively in
Tibetan translation; the original Sanskrit version is no longer extant. The Tibetan has
no translator’s colophon, and there is no direct evidence of when, or by
whom, it was made. It may possibly have been first translated somewhat
before the major imperial translation project of the early period began;
several sources, including Butön’s History of the
Dharma, mention that it was translated by Drenka (bran ka) Mūlakośa and Nyak Jñānakumāra
during the reign of the father and immediate predecessor of King Trisong
Detsen, King Tridé Tsuktsen (khri lde gtsug
btsan, r. 705–55 ce, also known as
mes ag tshoms). In any case, the Tibetan translation is
included in the Denkarma (ldan dkar ma)
inventory compiled during the Tibetan imperial period and usually dated 812
ce, so it must have been produced no later
than that date.

There are two accounts of how the text was saved from destruction
during the period of upheaval around the reign of Langdarma (r. 836–42 ce
) by being taken to eastern Tibet. One account mentions that three
monks
from Palchubori Monastery transported The Hundred
Deeds and other texts to the Amdo region while fleeing from
persecution by King Langdarma. The other account states that Palgyi Dorje
carried the text to the Kham region after he had assassinated the king.

There is another collection of broadly similar narratives, the
Avadānaśataka, that is perhaps the closest kin
of The Hundred Deeds in terms of style and
content, and thus may serve as a primary reference point for comparison and
contrast. The temporal relationship between the two collections, as well as
the seniority of one collection over the other, is a matter for debate. The Avadānaśataka has a definite plan and a clear,
orderly structure: it has ten chapters, each containing ten stories based on
a common theme, giving a total of one hundred stories. Although The Hundred Deeds is similarly divided into ten
parts, it lacks the Avadānaśataka’s
structural adherence to round numbers and its more developed thematic
arrangement; The Hundred Deeds contains
approximately 127 stories by Feer’s count (of these, some fifteen
are also in the Avadānaśataka
), and the collection is not organized around fixed sets of
common themes.

The Hundred Deeds is not entirely lacking in
thematic structure, however. The stories in the eighth chapter share a
common theme, that of prophecy (vyākaraṇa), the same as the first chapter of the Avadānaśataka. Each prophecy is
essentially an “explanation” of a person’s future buddhahood. The primary aspect
that differentiates vyākaraṇa avadānas from the majority of other avadānas
is that they end with a prophecy rather than in fulfillment; that is, the
protagonist of each vyākaraṇa avadāna will certainly achieve enlightenment,
but not by the story’s end.

Furthermore, most of the texts in The Hundred
Deeds share a basic structure. In general, a given text will
begin with a narrative from the time of Buddha Śākyamuni, at the conclusion
of which Śākyamuni explains to his monks which of the characters’ previous
actions caused the present state of events. This explanation then leads to a
second narrative, and occasionally also a third, within the same text.
Through these interconnecting stories, the text gives practical examples of
karmic cause and effect.

The presence of the bodhisattva vow (pranidhāna) further differentiates The Hundred Deeds from the Avadānaśataka. In the present collection, the
bodhisattva vow appears some ninety times, and in the Avadānaśataka only fourteen times. The preeminence of the bodhisattva vow in The Hundred Deeds would certainly seem to place it
closer to the work of the Mahāsāṅghika school. However, some scholars
believe these are later interpolations in what was originally a
Sarvāstivādin text.

While calling attention to the relative lack of thematic structure
in The Hundred Deeds, Feer nonetheless
classifies several of the collection’s stories using the following
categories: parallel, jātaka, and historical avadānas. The parallel avadānas
are those in which both the past and present tales are essentially the same,
with the common narrative generally lacking karmic punishment or
reward. The jātaka (Buddha’s “birth story”) avadānas are further
subdivided into partial and “pure” jātakas. The avadānas not considered “pure” are those in which the
Buddha acts as protagonist for only a portion of the tale of the past. The
historical avadānas are those that feature well-known Buddhist figures as
protagonists or secondary characters as well as events from the history of
Buddhism. These categories are by no means discrete; there are several
instances in which Feer cites a single story as belonging to two categories,
if not all three.

The present English translation is based mainly on the Tibetan text
of the Degé Kangyur; other Kangyurs were consulted where the Degé reading
called for further investigation. Where one folio of the text was missing in
the Degé Kangyur (vol. 73, folio 12a, see notes), the corresponding passage
in the Stok Palace Kangyur was used to complete it.

The Translation

##
The Hundred Deeds

Prologue

I prostrate to the All-Knowing One.

Listen well, for I have heard

Of a doorway whence we may discern

The world-guru, Gone to Bliss,

Who wishes nothing but our benefit,

As he parcels out a full account

To those who wandered in, confused,

From the vast, bleak wood of wrongful views.

His sacred speech, so sound and sweet—

This sūtra—is The Hundred Deeds.

A General Outline of the Text

Part One: “The Dog,” and Other Stories

Part Two: “The Chariot,” and Other Stories

Part Three: “The Story of Kacaṅkalā,” and Other Stories

Part Four: “The Story of Maitrībala,” and Other Stories

Part Five: “The Story of Virūpa,” and Other Stories

Part Six: “The Bird,” and Other Stories

Part Seven: “The Story of Paṅgu,” and Other Stories

Part Eight: “The Story of Pūrṇa,” and Other Stories

Part Nine: “The Sons,” and Other Stories

Part Ten: “Śakra,” and Other Stories

Part One

1. The Dog

2. The Story of Little Eyes

3. The Story of Pūraṇa

4. The Person with a Curving Spine: Two Stories

5. The Story of Udayin

6. Victory Banner

7. The Story of Kṣemā

8. The Story of Maṇiprabha

9. The Story of Jasmine

10. Give It to Me!

11. The Story of She Who Gathers

12. The Tailor

The Dog

When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and they
enjoyed themselves and coupled. As they enjoyed themselves and coupled,
one day his wife conceived. After nine or ten months had passed, she
gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful, with glowing, golden skin, a well-rounded head, long
arms, a broad brow, a fine and prominent nose, and eyebrows that met. At
the elaborate feast celebrating his birth they named him according to
their clan.

They reared him on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids,
and he flourished like a lotus in a lake. Once he was able to walk, his
father brought home a little puppy for him to play with. Any time the
puppy saw philosophical extremists, she would run and bite at them,
sometimes tearing their robes. But when she saw Buddhist monastics she
would trot up, lick their feet, and circumambulate them clockwise while
wagging her tail.

The buddhas, the blessed ones, teachers of the one path to be
traversed, with mastery over wisdom and the two types of knowable
objects, in command of the three kinds of sterling equanimity, fearless
by means of the fourfold fearlessness, freed from migration through the
five destinies, keen in the six sense bases, practiced in the seven
limbs of enlightenment, focused on the eight liberations, absorbed in
the nine successive meditative absorptions, possessing all ten of the
ten powers, whose proclamations are the great roaring of a perfect lion,
by nature regard the world with their buddha eyes six times throughout
the day and night—three times by day and three times by night.

These are their thoughts as they look out in wisdom: “Who is in
decline? Who will flourish? Who is destitute? Who is in a dreadful
state? Who is being harmed? Who is destitute, in a dreadful state, and
being harmed? Who is veering toward the lower realms? Who is descending
through the lower realms? Who has descended to the lower realms? Whom
shall I pull up from the lower realms, and establish in the resultant
state of heaven and liberation? Whom, mired in misdeeds, shall I lift up
by the hand? Whom, lacking the seven jewels of the noble ones, shall I lead
to command of the seven jewels of the noble ones? Whom, not having
produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to produce them? Whom, having
already produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to ripen their roots of
virtue? Whom, having already ripened their roots of virtue, shall I
slice open with the blade of wisdom? For whom shall I cause this world,
adorned with a buddha’s presence, to be fruitful?”

The ocean, home of creatures fierce,

Could fail to send its tides on time.

But when the time has come to tame

Their offspring, buddhas never fail.

Just as the buddhas, the blessed ones, regard the world with
their buddha eyes six times throughout the day and night—three times by
day and three times by night—so too the great disciples of the buddhas
regard the world with disciples’ eyes six times throughout the day and
night—three times by day and three times by night. When Venerable
Śāriputra regarded the world with his disciple’s eyes, he knew that the
time had come to tame the householder and his retinue. In the morning he
donned his lower garment and Dharma robes, and, carrying his alms bowl,
he went for alms in Śrāvastī.

As he went for alms, Śāriputra eventually came to the home of
that householder. As soon as the dog saw him from a distance, she jumped
up and ran right up to Śāriputra, just as she had with the other monks.
She very respectfully licked his feet and circumambulated him three
times while wagging her tail.

The householder saw all this and thought, “My! This one has
fallen so low as to possess the body of a dog. If even she thinks to pay
him such esteem, then surely this monk is a great being. I should invite
this monk and offer him food.” Reflecting in this way he approached
Venerable Śāriputra, bowed down at Śāriputra’s feet, and said, “Lord
Śāriputra, whatever food you need, please take it here.” Venerable
Śāriputra assented by his silence.

Understanding that by his silence Venerable Śāriputra had given
his assent, the householder then prepared a seat for Venerable Śāriputra
and said, “Venerable Śāriputra, please sit upon the seat that I have
prepared,” whereupon Venerable Śāriputra sat on the seat prepared for
him.

Once the householder knew that Venerable Śāriputra was
comfortably seated, by his own hand he contented him with many good,
wholesome foods, proffering all that he wished. After he had contented
him with many different kinds of good, wholesome foods by his own hand,
and had proffered all that he wished, once he knew that Venerable
Śāriputra had finished eating and that his bowl had been taken away and
his hands washed, he sat before him to listen to the Dharma.

Venerable Śāriputra directly apprehended the thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperament, and nature of the householder and his retinue,
and taught them the Dharma accordingly.

When they heard it, the householder and his retinue destroyed
with the thunderbolt of wisdom the twenty high peaks of the mountain of
views concerning the transitory collection, and manifested the
resultant state of stream entry. Having seen the truths, they went for refuge and took the fundamental
precepts. After Venerable Śāriputra had instructed, encouraged,
inspired, and delighted the householder with a discourse on the Dharma,
he rose from his seat and departed.

Having seen the truths, the householder began to give gifts and
make merit such that his home became like an open well for those in
need. The householder invited Śāriputra to take food at his home again
and again. Venerable Śāriputra and the householder would give food to
the dog, and the householder would sit before Venerable Śāriputra to
listen to the Dharma. The dog too would sit down before Venerable
Śāriputra and listen to the Dharma. The householder reflected, “Such
good things I have realized, and all on account of this dog!” Realizing
this, he took very good care of her.

One day the dog fell ill, and Śāriputra said to her, “And so it
is, child: All conditioned things are impermanent. All conditioned
things are suffering. All phenomena are selfless. Nirvāṇa is peace. Let
your mind be filled with joy at the thought of me, and you may even be
released from rebirth in the animal realm.” With that, Venerable
Śāriputra departed.

Not long after he had gone, the dog died, filled with joy at the
thought of Venerable Śāriputra. After she died, she took rebirth in the
same house, in the womb of the householder’s foremost wife.

When the dog died, Venerable Śāriputra returned to the house,
where the householder informed him, “Lord Śāriputra, our dog has passed
away.”

“Keep the dog’s body in a secluded place,” Venerable Śāriputra
instructed, “for those bones will be of benefit to her later on.”

“As you wish, Lord Śāriputra,” said the householder, and the
householder put the dog’s dead body in a place where no one would see
it.

After nine or ten months had passed, the householder’s wife gave
birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and
beautiful, with glowing, golden skin and a well-rounded head, long arms,
a broad brow, a fine and prominent nose, and eyebrows that met. At the
elaborate feast celebrating her birth they named her according to their
clan. They reared her on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids,
and she flourished like a lotus in a lake.

When she had grown, Venerable Śāriputra told her, “Child, sit
and listen to the Dharma,” but she had become arrogant on account of her
well-proportioned shape and youthfulness, and was so distracted that she
was unable to listen to the Dharma. One day Venerable Śāriputra
recognized how to uncover her potential. He set the bones of the dog in
front of her, and blessed the young woman in such a way that she
remembered her former lives.

Recalling her former lives, the young woman was overcome with
grief and thought, “Look at the difficult task Noble Śāriputra has done
for me! Thanks to him I have been freed from the realms of animal
birth.” At this thought she was filled with happiness, and sat before
Venerable Śāriputra to listen to the Dharma.

Then Venerable Śāriputra, directly apprehending her thoughts,
habitual tendencies, temperament, and nature, taught her the Dharma
accordingly. Hearing it, the young woman destroyed with the thunderbolt
of wisdom the twenty high peaks of the mountain of views concerning the
transitory collection, and manifested the resultant state of stream
entry right where she sat.

Having seen the truths, she rose from her seat, drew down the
right shoulder of her upper garment, bowed to Venerable Śāriputra with
her palms together, and implored him, “Lord Śāriputra,
if permitted, I wish to go forth in the Dharma and Vinaya so well
spoken, complete my novitiate, and achieve full ordination. I too wish
to practice the holy life in the presence of the Blessed One.”

Venerable Śāriputra told her parents of her faith and then
presented her to Mahāprajāpatī, who led her to go forth as a novice,
ordained her, and gave her instruction. Casting away all afflictive
emotions through diligence, practice, and effort, she manifested
arhatship. As an arhat, free of the attachments of the three realms, her
mind regarded gold no differently than filth, and the palms of her hands
as like space itself. She became cool like wet sandalwood. Her insight
crushed ignorance like an eggshell. She achieved the insights,
superknowledges, and discriminations. She had no regard for worldly
profit, passion, or acclaim. She became an object of offering,
veneration, and respectful address by Indra, Upendra, and the other
gods.

Now an arhat, she remembered Venerable Śāriputra’s previous
kindness and approached him again and again, prostrating herself at his
feet and saying, “Thanks to Noble Śāriputra, I was freed from the realms
of animal birth and achieved great virtues. It is all due to the
difficult task the noble one has done for me.”

Many monks overheard her saying this over and over again, and
immediately asked Venerable Śāriputra, “Venerable Śāriputra, what is
this nun thinking, saying this over and over again?”

“Did you see the puppy at the householder’s home?” Venerable
Śāriputra asked.

“Yes, Lord Śāriputra, we did,” they replied.

“The very same one died filled with joy at the thought of me and
was reborn in the home of that householder. Now that she remembers
her former lives, she speaks these words to me to acknowledge that
previous kindness.”

The monks inquired of the Blessed One, “Lord, what was the
action this nun performed that ripened into her birth as a dog? What did
she do after she died and took rebirth as a human being that she pleased
and did not displease the Blessed One, went forth in the Blessed One’s
doctrine, cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifested arhatship?”

The Blessed One replied, “Monks, it was partly her past actions,
and it is partly her present actions as well.”

“Lord, what action did she take in the past?”

“Monks, in times past, in this fortunate eon, when people lived
as long as twenty thousand years and the tathāgata, the arhat, the
totally and completely awakened buddha possessed of insight and perfect
conduct, the sugata, the knower of the world, the tamer of persons, the
charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the teacher of humans and gods, the
blessed buddha known as Kāśyapa was in the world, there lived a certain
householder in the city of Vārāṇasī.

“One day a child was born to him who was well proportioned,
pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. As she grew up she gained faith in
the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa and
asked her parents if she could go forth. Once she had gone forth, she
studied the Tripiṭaka and became a proponent of the Dharma with all the
eloquence of her wisdom and freedom.

“Having acquired provisions of clothing, food, bedding, a seat,
and medicines for the sick, she thought, ‘How wonderful! With all the
profit and acclaim I’ve gained, I can see to the welfare of fellow
practitioners of the holy life.’ And she served the twofold saṅgha in accordance with the
Dharma.

“One day when she was busy, she asked for help from a group of nuns
who were on the paths of learning and no more to learn.
They replied, ‘We cannot abandon our virtuous works to accomplish your
task.’

“When she heard this she bristled with fury. Seething, the nun
shouted at them, ‘You’re like dogs! All I do is look after you and fill
your stomachs—can you not help me for even a moment?’

“Thereupon the nuns thought, ‘It’s not right for this
emotionally afflicted person, so abased, to circle in saṃsāra and meet
with great suffering.’ Reflecting in this way, they thought, ‘We have to
help her,’ and asked, ‘Do you know who we are? And do you know who you
yourself are?’

“ ‘I know,’ she replied, ‘that you have gone forth, as have I.’

“The nuns responded, ‘Though as your elder sisters we have gone
forth as you have, you are an ordinary person, bound by every fetter,
whereas we have accomplished our task. So acknowledge your mistake as
such. Otherwise you are certain to roam in saṃsāra and meet with great
suffering.’

“Hearing their words, the nun was flooded with regret, and with
renewed vigor she offered her respectful service to the twofold saṅgha
and practiced pure conduct all her life.

“At the time of her death, she prayed, ‘Oh, but by the root of
virtue of my having gone forth in the doctrine of the totally and
completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, my lifetime of practicing pure
conduct, and the service I rendered in accord with the Dharma, wherever
I am born, may it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and
wealth. May I be well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful.
May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by
the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next
blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone,
may I cast away all afflictive emotions and manifest arhatship. May I
not meet with the results of the act of speaking harshly to those fellow
practitioners of the holy life.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was that nun then is
now this nun. The ripening of the act of speaking harshly to those
fellow practitioners of the holy life caused her to be reborn as a dog
for five hundred lifetimes. At the time of her death she prayed,
‘Wherever I am born, may it be into a family of great means, prosperity,
and wealth. May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin
prophesied by the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be
the next blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone, may I cast
away all afflictive emotions and manifest arhatship.’ And that action
ripened such that she was born into a family of great means, prosperity,
and wealth.

“You may ask, ‘What are her present actions?’ Born as a dog, she
was filled with joy at the thought of Śāriputra. Because of this she
took birth among humans. These are her present actions.”

The Story of Little Eyes

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī there lived a certain
householder, prosperous and wealthy, a person of vast and magnificent
means,
endowed with the wealth of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.
When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and as they enjoyed
themselves and coupled, one day his wife conceived. After nine or ten
months had passed, she gave birth to a child who was well proportioned,
pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. At the elaborate feast celebrating
his birth they named him according to their clan.

They reared him on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids,
and once he was able to walk, his father brought home a puppy and gave
it to the child to play with. The child taught the puppy how to eat, and
when the puppy had grown, he went out to the road and many others fed
him as well.

These are their thoughts as they look out in wisdom: “Who is in
decline? Who will flourish? Who is destitute? Who is in a dreadful
state? Who is being harmed? Who is destitute, in a dreadful state, and
being harmed? Who is veering toward the lower realms? Who is descending
through the lower realms? Who has descended to the lower realms? Whom
shall I pull up from the lower realms, and establish in the resultant
state of heaven and liberation? Whom, mired in misdeeds, shall I lift up
by the hand? Whom, lacking the seven jewels of the noble ones, shall I
lead to command of the seven jewels of the noble ones? Whom, not having
produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to produce them? Whom, having
already produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to ripen their roots of
virtue? Whom, having already ripened their roots of virtue, shall I
slice open with the blade of wisdom? For whom shall I cause this world,
adorned with a buddha’s presence, to be fruitful?”

The ocean, home of creatures fierce,

Could fail to send its tides on time.

But when the time has come to tame

Their offspring, buddhas never fail.

Just as the blessed buddhas regard the world with their buddha
eyes six times throughout the day and night—three times by day and three
times by night—so too the great listeners regard the world with their
listener’s eyes six times throughout the day and night—three times by
day and three times by night. When Venerable Śāriputra regarded the
world with his listener’s eyes, he knew that the time had come to tame
the householder and his retinue.

In the morning he donned his lower garment and Dharma robes,
and, carrying his alms bowl, he went for alms in Śrāvastī. As he went
for alms, Venerable Śāriputra eventually came to the home of that
householder. The dog caught sight of Venerable Śāriputra, ran with all
his might, bit him, and tore his Dharma robes. The householder saw this
and immediately stopped the dog. When he had washed Venerable
Śāriputra’s wounds and wrapped them with cloth, he bowed down at his
feet and implored him, “Lord Śāriputra, please take your food here.”
Venerable Śāriputra assented to the householder by his silence.

Understanding that by his silence Venerable Śāriputra had given
his assent, the householder then prepared a seat for him and said,
“Venerable Śāriputra, please sit upon the seat that I have prepared,”
and Venerable Śāriputra sat on the seat prepared for him.
Once the householder knew that Venerable Śāriputra was comfortably
seated, by his own hand he contented him with many good, wholesome
foods, proffering all that he wished.

After the householder had contented him with many different
kinds of good, wholesome foods by his own hand, and had proffered all
that he wished, Venerable Śāriputra partook of the day’s meal and gave
his remaining food to the dog. When he had finished eating it, the dog
looked up at Venerable Śāriputra’s face. Once the householder knew that
Venerable Śāriputra had finished eating and that his bowl had been taken
away and his hands washed, he sat before him to listen to the Dharma.

Venerable Śāriputra directly apprehended the thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperament, and nature of the householder and his retinue,
and taught them the Dharma accordingly. After hearing it, the
householder and his retinue destroyed with the thunderbolt of wisdom the
twenty high peaks of the mountain of views concerning the transitory
collection, and manifested the resultant state of stream entry right
where they sat. Having seen the truths, they went for refuge and took
the fundamental precepts.

“Lord Śāriputra,” said the householder, “for as long as I live,
please accept from me your provisions of clothing, food, bedding, seat,
and medicines to cure the sick.”

Śāriputra replied, “There are other householders I must help as
well. Please allow me to go.” At this, he rose from his seat and
departed.

After the householder had seen the truths, gone for refuge, and
taken the fundamental precepts, he began to give gifts and make merit.
From time to time he would also extend an invitation to Venerable
Śāriputra and make food for him. After eating, Venerable Śāriputra would
give the remaining food to the dog.

The dog was very happy with Venerable Śāriputra. He was so
happy that whenever Venerable Śāriputra came to the house, he
greeted him, licked his feet, and circumambulated him three times while
wagging his tail. Whenever Venerable Śāriputra came to give a Dharma
talk and the time came for him to leave, the dog escorted him a little
distance, then circumambulated him three times before he went away.

One day Venerable Śāriputra came to the house again, took his
food, and gave a Dharma talk to the householder. As he was departing,
the dog followed him outside onto the main road, licked his feet, and
circumambulated him three times while wagging his tail. As the dog was
returning to the house, some other dogs tore him apart, killing him. He
died filled with joy at the thought of the elder monk Śāriputra,
transmigrated, and took rebirth in the same house, in the womb of the
householder’s wife.

Venerable Śāriputra knew just how the dog had been killed by
the other dogs after they had parted. He contemplated where the dog
would take rebirth, and saw that it would be in the same house, in the
womb of the householder’s wife. Upon seeing this, out of love for the
dog he went to the householder’s home alone, without attendants.

The householder saw that Venerable Śāriputra was alone, without
companions or attendants, and he inquired, “Noble one, why have you come
here alone, without companions or attendants? Noble one, is there no one
at all who could attend you?”

“Where shall we find attendants, if one such as yourself does
not grant them to us?” replied Venerable Śāriputra.

The householder said to him, “Lord Śāriputra, my wife has
conceived, so if we have a son, noble one, I shall offer him to you as
an attendant.”

“The virtuous keep their promises,” said Venerable
Śāriputra. Having spoken thus, Venerable Śāriputra departed.

After nine or ten months had passed, the householder’s wife
gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful, though his eyes were small. At the elaborate feast
celebrating his birth they asked, “What name should we give this child?”
And they named him, saying, “Since the child’s eyes are small, his name
will be Little Eyes.”

They reared young Little Eyes on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee,
and milk solids, and he flourished like a lotus in a lake. As he grew up
he studied letters, tallying, and arithmetic; the study of seals,
lending, deposits, and commerce;
and the examination of cloth, jewels, gems, incense, medicine,
elephants, horses, and arms and armor. He became skilled in writing,
skilled at reading, learned, decisive, industrious, a master of the
eight types of examination.

One day Venerable Śāriputra saw that the time had come for
Little Eyes to go forth. In the morning he donned his lower garment and
Dharma robes, and, carrying his alms bowl, he went for alms in Śrāvastī.
As he went for alms, he eventually came to the householder’s home, and
there sat on the seat prepared for him.

After he had taken his seat, Venerable Śāriputra reminded the
householder, “Householder, before this child was born you granted him to
me as an attendant. The virtuous keep their promises, do they not?
Didn’t you yourself make such a promise?”

“Yes, noble one, I did make just such a promise,” the
householder replied, and he took the child by his two hands, offered him
to Venerable Śāriputra, and told him, “Child, before you were born, I
offered you to the noble one. Therefore go, and be an attendant of
the noble one.”

The child said, “This will be of benefit to me,” and with those
words he followed Venerable Śāriputra away.

Venerable Śāriputra brought the child to the monastery, where
he led him to go forth as a novice and instructed him. Still in his
novitiate, the child cast away all afflictive emotions through
diligence, practice, and effort, and manifested arhatship. As an arhat,
free from the attachments of the three realms, his mind regarded gold no
differently than filth, and the palms of his hands as like space itself.
He became cool like wet sandalwood. His insight crushed ignorance like
an eggshell. He achieved the insights, superknowledges, and
discriminations. He had no regard for worldly profit, passion, or
acclaim. He became an object of offering, veneration, and respectful
address by Indra, Upendra, and the other gods.

One time after he had attained arhatship, he saw scars on
Venerable Śāriputra’s feet as he was anointing them and asked,
“Preceptor, how did you get these scars?”

“Child,” Venerable Śāriputra told him, “think on how I got
these scars.”

“I see it was I who bit him in a previous life as a dog,”
thought the novice. “And I see the life from which I died,
transmigrated, and took rebirth as a dog.” He saw that he had died and
taken rebirth as that dog, and he also saw that for five hundred
lifetimes he had died as a dog, transmigrated, and taken rebirth only as
a dog.

He thought, “Had my preceptor not thought of me, where would I
have taken rebirth in the future when I died there and transmigrated?”
Reflecting in this way, he saw himself taking birth again as that very
dog. In the same way he saw himself for five hundred future lives dying,
transmigrating, and taking birth over and over only as a dog.

“It was he who saved me from falling so low!” he thought
further. “By establishing me in the unsurpassed, supreme welfare of
nirvāṇa, my
preceptor undertook a difficult task for me, over and over again. What
method is there to repay the kindness of one’s preceptor, other than
service and respect? When I take full ordination I won’t be able to
offer such service—but oh! By remaining a novice for as long as I live I
can continue to serve him respectfully.”

With this in mind, he said to Venerable Śāriputra, “Preceptor,
for as long as I live I shall serve my preceptor with respect,” and
Śāriputra replied, “Do as you wish, my child.”

One day the monks asked him, “Little Eyes, why don’t you take
full ordination?”

“I must repay the kindness of my preceptor,” he told them. “By
remaining a novice for as long as I live, I shall be able to serve him
respectfully.”

“What particular kindness did your preceptor do for you?” they
asked.

He told the monks the story in detail, whereupon the monks
inquired of the Blessed Buddha, “Lord, what action did Little Eyes take
that ripened into his birth as a dog, such that, if Venerable Śāriputra
had not thought of him, he would have taken rebirth only as a dog for
five hundred lifetimes, and what action did he take that once he had
died as a dog he transmigrated and took birth once again as a human into
a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth? What action did he take
that he pleased the Blessed One, did not displease him, went forth in
the doctrine of the Blessed One, cast away all afflictive emotions, and
manifested arhatship? What action did he take that ripened into his
having small eyes?”

“Monks,” explained the Blessed One, “Little Eyes
committed and accumulated the actions himself at a previous time. Monks,
the actions that he committed and accumulated did not ripen into the
external element of earth. They did not ripen into the element of water,
nor the element of fire, nor the element of wind. The actions he
committed and accumulated, both virtuous and nonvirtuous, ripened into
nothing but his own aggregates, sense bases, and constituent
elements.

“When the time arrives—even if

A hundred eons pass—

Fruit is born of every act

That sentient beings amass.

“Monks, in times past, in this fortunate eon, when people lived
as long as twenty thousand years and the tathāgata, the arhat, the
totally and completely awakened buddha possessed of insight and perfect
conduct, the sugata, the knower of the world, the tamer of persons, the
charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the teacher of humans and gods, the
blessed buddha known as Kāśyapa was in the world, there lived in the
city of Vārāṇasī a certain householder, prosperous and wealthy, a person
of vast and magnificent means, endowed with the wealth of
Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.

“Once he had gone forth, he studied the Tripiṭaka and became a
proponent of the Dharma with all the eloquence of his wisdom and
freedom. Having acquired provisions of clothing, food, bedding, a seat,
and medicines for the sick, he thought to himself, ‘How wonderful! With
all the profit and acclaim I’ve gained, I can see to the welfare of
fellow practitioners of the holy life.’ And he served the twofold saṅgha in
accordance with the Dharma.

“One evening, one of his duties, that of serving the evening
drink, fell instead to an arhat monk. After distributing the evening
drink to the saṅgha, the arhat was weary, so he went to his quarters,
crossed his legs, and sat down.

“The evening drink still needed to be served to the
benefactors, who began to ask the other monks, ‘Whose turn is it today
to serve the evening drink?’

“They replied that today it was the monk so-and-so’s turn. The
one who was normally appointed to serve them, seething, closed his eyes
as if asleep and said, ‘It’s the one whose eyes are like this—I’ll find
him!’

“Having said this, he went to the arhat and said, ‘Lord, for
your sake I’ve pleased all our benefactors and patrons, and respectfully
served your every need. Now that you’ve enjoyed all I’ve given you in
faith, do you come home to sit and sleep like a dog?’

“Thereupon the arhat thought, ‘It’s not right for this
emotionally afflicted person, who has become so abased, to circle in
saṃsāra and meet with great suffering.’ Reflecting in this way, he
thought, ‘I have to help him.’

“With this thought he said to the monk, ‘Lord, do you know who
I am? And do you know who you yourself are?’

“ ‘I know that you have gone forth,’ he replied, ‘as have I.’

“ ‘Though we two are like brothers in having gone forth,’ the
arhat said, ‘you are an ordinary person, bound by every fetter, whereas
I am an arhat, liberated from every fetter. You’ve spoken harshly to me.
You must acknowledge your mistake. Otherwise you are certain to roam in
saṃsāra and meet with great suffering.’

“Hearing his words, the monk was flooded with great regret.
He
bowed down at the monk’s feet, asked his forgiveness, and with renewed
vigor offered his respectful service to the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha.
All his life, he practiced pure conduct and served the saṅgha in accord
with the Dharma.

“At the time of his death, he prayed, ‘Oh, but by the root of
virtue of my having gone forth in the doctrine of the totally and
completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, my practice of pure conduct all my
life, and the service I rendered in accord with the Dharma, wherever I
am born, may it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth!
May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by
the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next
blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone, may I cast away all
afflictive emotions and manifest arhatship. May I not meet with the
results of the wrongful act of speaking harshly to fellow practitioners
of the holy life.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was of service then is
now the novice Little Eyes. The act of speaking harshly to the arhat
ripened such that for five hundred lifetimes he took rebirth as a dog,
and had the monk Śāriputra not thought of him, he would have taken
rebirth only as a dog for five hundred more lifetimes.

“The act of becoming angry, closing his eyes in imitation of
the arhat, and saying, ‘It’s the one whose eyes are like this—I’ll find
him!’ ripened into his birth as a human being whose eyes were just like
that. The act of praying at that time, ‘By this root of virtue, wherever
I am born, may it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and
wealth. May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin
prophesied by the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the
next blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone, may I cast away
all afflictive emotions and manifest arhatship,’ ripened such that he
was born into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth.

The Story of Pūraṇa

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī, there lived a certain
householder, prosperous and wealthy, a person of vast and magnificent
means, endowed with the wealth of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth to rival
Vaiśravaṇa’s. When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and
they enjoyed themselves and coupled. But even though they enjoyed
themselves and coupled, they had no children.

They desired a son, so the householder supplicated the gods. He
prayed to Paśupati, Varuṇa, Kubera, Śakra, Brahmā, and the rest, and to
the deities of the pleasure groves, the forest deities, the deities of
the crossroads, the deities of forks in the road, the deities who
receive strewn oblations, the deities of his inherited tradition, and
the deities who are in constant attendance of righteous persons.

While it is often said that praying to deities can cause a boy
or a girl to be born, this is not true. If children could be made just
by praying, every family would have them a thousand times over, like a
universal monarch.
In
fact, there are three circumstances that allow for the birth of a child:
a child is born when (1) lust arises in the parents and they have
intercourse, (2) the mother still has her menstrual cycle and is
approached by a gandharva, and (3) the gandharva’s mind is either
attached or angry.

Still, the householder remained intent on his prayers, and a
great being took birth in his wife’s womb who was well renowned and had
gained his final birth, had the good fortune to soon be liberated due to
gathering the accumulations, had his sights set on nirvāṇa and had
turned away from saṃsāra, had no desire for the states of rebirth in
cyclic existence, and who had now assumed his final body.

A woman wise in nature possesses five extraordinary abilities.
She knows (1) whether a man is attracted to her, (2) the time of her
menstrual cycle, (3) that she has conceived, (4) from whom she has
conceived, and (5) whether the child is a boy or a girl, for if it is a
baby boy it will stay on the right side of the womb, and if it is a girl
it will stay on the left side of the womb.

When the householder’s wife conceived a child, she was
overjoyed and told her husband, “My lord, I
have conceived a boy. He is staying on the right side of my womb, so
rejoice, for it is sure to be a boy!”

At this the householder too was very happy. He puffed out his
chest, put his right hand in the air, and expressed his joy, saying, “I
shall see the face of the son for whom I have prayed for so long! May
everything be right with my son, may nothing go wrong with him, and may
he carry on my work! As I care for him, may he care for me in return!
May he enjoy my inheritance! May my lineage endure for a long time!
And after our passing, when we die, may he give
gifts, be they great or small, and make merit! When he does, may he
dedicate the merit thus: ‘Wherever these two are born, may this go to
them!’ ”

Now that he knew his wife was pregnant, he ensconced her on the
upper levels of their house in order to care for the baby. He provided
her with what she needed for winter in the winter, what she needed for
summer in the summer, with food that was not too bitter, too sour, too
salty, too sweet, too spicy, or too astringent as instructed by the
healer, and he served her food that was not bitter, sour, salty, spicy,
sweet, or astringent. He draped her body with garlands and strings of
precious stones, and he moved her from divan to divan and seat to seat
like a goddess through a joyous garden, never letting her descend to the
ground, and never letting her hear an unpleasant word even for a moment.

The blessed buddhas, teachers of the one path to be traversed,
with mastery over wisdom and the two types of knowable objects, in
command of the three kinds of sterling equanimity, fearless by means of
the fourfold fearlessness, freed from migration through the five
destinies, keen in the six sense bases, practiced in the seven limbs of
enlightenment, focused on the eight liberations, absorbed in the nine
successive meditative absorptions, possessing all ten of the ten powers,
whose proclamations are the great roaring of a perfect lion, by nature
regard the world with their buddha eyes six times throughout the day and
night—three times by day and three times by night.

These are their thoughts as they look out in wisdom: “Who is in
decline? Who will flourish? Who is destitute? Who is in a dreadful
state? Who is being harmed? Who is destitute, in a dreadful state, and
being harmed? Who is veering toward the lower realms? Who is descending
through the lower realms? Who has descended to the lower realms? Whom
shall I pull up from the lower realms, and establish in the resultant
state of heaven and liberation? Whom, mired in misdeeds, shall I lift up
by the hand? Whom, lacking the seven jewels of the noble ones, shall I
lead to command of the seven jewels of the noble ones? Whom, not having
produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to produce them? Whom, having
already produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to ripen their roots of
virtue? Whom, having already ripened their roots of virtue, shall I
slice open with the blade of wisdom? For whom shall I cause this world,
adorned with a buddha’s presence, to be fruitful?”

The ocean, home of creatures fierce,

Could fail to send its tides on time.

But when the time has come to tame

Their offspring, buddhas never fail.

When Venerable Aniruddha regarded the world with his listener’s
eyes, he saw a being who was in his final birth taking birth in the home
of that householder, and he thought, “Who will tame this being? Will he
be tamed by the Buddha, or will he be tamed instead by the listeners?”
Then he saw that it was he himself who would tame him and went to the
house.

He gave Dharma teachings to the householder from time to time,
and that led the householder to remain steadfast in perfect faith, to
take refuge, and to maintain the fundamental precepts. He inspired him
to give gifts and to share what they had, and in no time at all his home
became
like an open well for those in need.

To strengthen the parents’ resolve, one day Venerable Aniruddha
went to the house alone, without companions or attendants. The
householder saw that Venerable Aniruddha was alone, without companions
or attendants, and asked, “Noble one, why have you come here alone,
without companions or attendants? Noble one, is there no one at all who
could attend you?”

“Where shall we find attendants, if one such as yourself does
not grant them to us?” replied Venerable Aniruddha.

The householder said to him, “Lord Aniruddha, my wife has
conceived, so if we have a son, noble one, I shall offer him to you as
an attendant.”

“The virtuous keep their promises,” said Venerable Aniruddha.
Having spoken thus, Venerable Aniruddha departed.

After nine or ten months had passed, the householder’s wife
gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful, with glowing, golden skin and a well-rounded head, long
arms, a broad brow, a fine and prominent nose, and eyebrows that met. At
the elaborate feast celebrating his birth they asked, “What name should
we give this child?” And the householder named him, saying, “For so long
I wondered when I would have a child, and for so long I prayed and
prayed. Since this child has fulfilled my wish, his name will be
Pūraṇa.”

Baby Pūraṇa had eight nurses—two nurses to hold
him in their laps, two wet nurses, two nurses to bathe him, and two
nurses to play with him. They raised him with a protection
cord, and the eye of a peacock feather from the hand of Nārāyaṇa. They
reared him on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids, and he
flourished like a lotus in a lake.

As he grew up he studied letters, tallying, and arithmetic; the
study of seals, lending, deposits, and commerce; and the examination of
cloth, jewels, gems, incense, medicine, elephants, horses, and arms and
armor. He became skilled in writing, skilled at reading, learned,
decisive, industrious, a master of the eight types of examination.

One day Venerable Aniruddha saw that the time had come for the
child to go forth. In the morning he donned his lower garment and Dharma
robes, and, carrying his alms bowl, he went for alms in Śrāvastī. As he
went for alms, eventually he came to the householder’s home, and there
sat on the seat prepared for him.

After he had taken his seat, Venerable Aniruddha reminded the
householder, “Householder, before this child was born you granted him to
me as an attendant. The virtuous keep their promises, do they not?
Didn’t you yourself make such a promise?”

“Yes, noble one, I did make just such a promise,” the
householder replied. Having said this, he took the child by his two
hands, offered him to Venerable Aniruddha, and told him, “Child, before
you were born I offered you to the noble one. Therefore go, and be the
noble one’s attendant.”

The child said, “This will be of benefit to me.” With those
words the child followed Venerable Aniruddha away.

Venerable Aniruddha brought the child to the monastery, where
he led him to go forth as a novice, fully ordained him, and
instructed him. But despite his commitment to practice earnestly,
foregoing sleep from dusk to dawn, the child did not achieve anything of
significance. Then he fell ill.

His parents heard that their child had taken ill, and as soon
as they heard this they brought a healer to visit him, and went to the
monastery carrying everything he needed. They provided for all his
needs, but they could not cure him. They thought, “If we remain here at
the monastery we will fall behind on all our work at home. We should
bring the child home and care for him there.”

They bowed down at Venerable Aniruddha’s feet and said, “Noble
one, please know that if we stay here, we will fall behind on all our
duties at home. We request your permission to bring our child back home,
so we can tend to him there.”

Venerable Aniruddha thought, “His parents and the people of
their house will soon be established in the truths, for this monk will
manifest arhatship there in the house.” With this in mind, Venerable
Aniruddha said, “Do as you wish.”

As soon as they heard this, the householders brought the monk
back to their house and provided for all his needs according to the
healer’s instructions. Right there in the house, disillusioned by his
illness, the monk cast away all afflictive emotions through diligence,
practice, and effort, and manifested arhatship.

As an arhat he directly apprehended the thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperament, and nature of his two parents and the people of
their house, and taught them the Dharma accordingly. Hearing it, the
householders and their retinue destroyed with the thunderbolt of
wisdom the twenty high peaks of the mountain of views concerning the
transitory collection, and manifested the resultant state of stream
entry right where they sat.

After establishing his parents in the truth, he thought, “I
have recollection of my former states—whence I died and transmigrated,
and where I have taken rebirth. I see that from life to life I have died
as a human being and taken rebirth as a human being, but I am always
very ill, and my lifespan very short.

“I have been an ordinary person,” he thought. “That’s why I’m
undergoing such agonies. But now that I have done what was before me,
what need do I have for such suffering? Let me enter the sphere of
peace!”

After reflecting in this way, he made a miraculous display of
fire and light, rain and lightning, and passed beyond all sorrow into
the realm of nirvāṇa without any remainder of the aggregates.

After he passed into parinirvāṇa, his parents laid his body on
a palanquin festooned with blue, yellow, red, and white cloth, but they
were unable to lift it. They went and told this to Venerable Aniruddha,
who reflected on this, and, knowing that the monk had prayed it would be
so, went and informed the Blessed One.

The Blessed One said, “Monks, don your Dharma robes, for we
shall go and venerate that monk,” and set out for the householder’s home
surrounded and escorted by an assembly of monks.

Mahāprajāpatī Gautamī also heard that such-and-such a
householder’s child had go forth and passed into parinirvāṇa, and that
even the Blessed One had gone to venerate and pay homage to him. Knowing
this, and remembering the child’s previous states, she also went to the
householder’s home with five hundred attendants.

The householder Anāthapiṇḍada and the queen’s attendants, the
sages Datta and Purāṇa, also heard this. The lay vow holder Vaiśākhā and
the lay vow holder Sujātā also heard that the child of such-and-such a
one had go forth and passed into parinirvāṇa, and that even the Blessed
One had gone to venerate and pay homage to him. Hearing this, they too
went there with their attendants, bowed down at the feet of the Blessed
One, and said, “We shall build the monk’s funeral pyre. The Blessed One
need not trouble himself.” The Blessed One assented by his silence.

Then householder Anāthapiṇḍada and the other lay vow holders,
carrying the monk upon the palanquin, walked to the charnel grounds. The
Blessed One and the other monks followed them, along with the many lay
vow holders performing ritual veneration and eulogy. They bore the
palanquin into the charnel ground, heaped together various types of
incense, and lit the fire. They later extinguished the fire with milk,
gathered up his bones, placed them in vessels, and built a reliquary
stūpa there in the same place. They performed a great offering ritual at
the stūpa and then sat before the Buddha to listen to the Dharma. The
Blessed One gave a discourse on impermanence to all four retinues, then
returned to the monastery.

Then the monks inquired of the Blessed One, “What action did
the monk Pūraṇa take that ripened into his birth into a
family of great means, prosperity, and wealth, and such
that he became very ill?”

“Monks,” explained the Blessed One, “Pūraṇa
committed and accumulated the actions himself at a previous time. Monks,
the actions that Pūraṇa committed and accumulated did not
ripen into the external element of earth, the element of water, the
element of fire, or the element of wind. The actions he committed and
accumulated, both virtuous and nonvirtuous, ripened into nothing but his
own aggregates, sense bases, and constituent elements.

“When the time arrives—and even if

A hundred eons pass—

Fruit is born of every act

That sentient beings amass.

“Monks, in times past, in this fortunate eon, when people lived
as long as forty thousand years, in the royal palace Śobhāvatī there was
a brahmin named Agnidatta who was King Śobha’s minister. Agnidatta had
two sons, one of whom, upon witnessing old age, sickness, and death, had
gone to live in the forest. There, contemplating the thirty-seven wings
of enlightenment, he attained unexcelled, total, and complete
enlightenment, and as the totally and completely awakened Buddha
Krakucchanda, he acted for the benefit of beings by thrice turning the
wheel of the Dharma in its twelve aspects. The other son indulged his
desires. He became heedless, committed adultery with the wives of others, and killed beings. He
would go hunting and kill many thousands of beings.

“One day the totally and completely awakened Buddha
Krakucchanda traveled to Śobhāvatī, and father and son were reunited.
During his stay in Śobhāvatī he acted for the benefit of beings. He
turned his younger brother away from sin and established him in
refuge and the fundamental precepts.

“The brother went on to build a monastery that was complete in
every respect. He offered it to Buddha Krakucchanda and the rest of the
saṅgha of monks, provided for all their needs, and at the time of his
death prayed, ‘By this root of virtue, wherever I am born, may it be
into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth. May I please and
not displease a great teacher such as this one. Going forth in his
doctrine alone, may I cast away all afflictive emotions and manifest
arhatship.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was that young brahmin
then is this very Pūraṇa. The act of massacring thousands
of beings ripened such that wherever he was born, he was very ill and
his life was very short. The act of building a monastery that was
complete in every respect, offering it to Buddha Krakucchanda and the
rest of the saṅgha of monks, providing for all their needs, and praying
at the time of his death, ‘Wherever I am born, may it be into a family
of great means, prosperity, and wealth. May I please and not displease a
teacher such as this one. May I achieve such great virtues as his!’
ripened such that wherever he was born, it was into a family of great
means, prosperity, and wealth, and such that he was well proportioned,
pleasing to the eye, and beautiful.

“So it is, monks, now that I myself have become the very equal
of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Krakucchanda—equal in
strength, equal in deeds, and equal in skillful means—that he has
pleased me, not displeased me, gone forth in my
very doctrine, cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifested
arhatship.”

“What action ripened into his passing into nirvāṇa, and caused
him to be venerated by the four retinues?”

“It came about by the power of his prayers,” replied the
Blessed One.

“When did he make these prayers?”

“One day his wife conceived, and after nine or ten months had
passed, she gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to
the eye, and beautiful. When he grew up he found faith in the doctrine
of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, and, having made
the request to his parents, went forth in the totally and completely
awakened Buddha Kāśyapa’s doctrine. He cast away all afflictive emotions
through diligence, practice, and effort, and manifested arhatship.

“After he attained arhatship, he thought, ‘I have done what was
before me with this saṃsāric body. Let me enter the sphere of peace!’
Reflecting in this way, he made a miraculous display of fire and light,
rain and lightning, and passed beyond all sorrow into the realm of
nirvāṇa without any remainder of the aggregates.

“His preceptor informed his parents, and his parents and the
preceptor performed an elaborate ritual veneration of his remains. His
preceptor prayed, ‘By this root of virtue, wherever I am born, may it be
into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth. May I please and
not displease Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by the totally and
completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next blessed buddha. May I
achieve such great virtues. When I pass into nirvāṇa, may the Blessed
One and all the four retinues venerate me.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was that monk then is
none other than this very Pūraṇa. The act of performing an
elaborate ritual veneration of that arhat and praying ripened such that
wherever he was born, it was into a family of great means, prosperity,
and wealth.

The Person with a Curving Spine: Two

Stories

The First Story about “The Person with a

Curving Spine”

When the Blessed One was in in Śrāvastī there lived a
certain householder, prosperous and wealthy, a person of vast and
magnificent means, endowed with the wealth of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth
to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.

When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and
they enjoyed themselves and coupled. As they enjoyed themselves and
coupled, one day his wife conceived, and after nine or ten months
had passed, she gave birth to a child who was well proportioned,
pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. At the elaborate feast
celebrating his birth they named him according to their clan.

They reared him on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk
solids, and as he grew up he studied letters, tallying, and
arithmetic; the study of seals, lending, deposits, and commerce; and
the examination of cloth, jewels, gems, incense, medicine,
elephants, horses, and arms and armor. He became skilled in writing,
skilled at reading, learned, decisive, and industrious, a master of
the eight types of examination.

One day the child fell ill and his spine was made to curve
by a disorder of his vital energies. As soon as they saw this
condition his parents became very upset and though they brought
healers and provided for all his needs, he could not be healed.

The thought came to the householder, “No healer has been
able to heal this child. But the objects of my veneration are so
miraculous and powerful that if I pray to them now, they might be
able to make my child’s back straight like before.” With this in
mind he invited six teachers—Pūraṇa
Kāśyapa and the rest—and by his own hand he contented
them with many different kinds of good, wholesome food. Then he
bowed down at their feet and beseeched them, “What could there be,
past, present, or future, that does not come under your purview? My
child’s spine has been made to curve by a disorder of his vital
energies. I ask you, please heal my child.” But though they gave him
mantras and medicines, they were not able to heal him.

The householder had a close friend, a Buddhist lay vow
holder, who advised him, “My friend, why do you seek refuge in those
who are not a refuge? Take refuge in the Blessed Buddha, and he will
do all manner of good things for you.”

“What does he know?” the householder asked.

“He is omniscient. He knows everything,” replied the lay
vow holder.

When he heard this, the householder felt immense joy and
approached the Blessed Buddha. When he arrived, he touched his head
to the Blessed One’s feet and sat before him to listen to the
Dharma. The Blessed One taught him the Dharma particularly suited to
him, then sat in silence.

Once the Blessed One had completed his teaching, the
householder rose from his seat, drew down the right shoulder of his
upper garment, and implored the Blessed One, “Please permit me to
request that the Blessed One and the saṅgha of monks take your meal
at my house tomorrow.” The Blessed One assented to the householder
by his silence.

Understanding that by his silence the Blessed One had given
his assent, the householder then praised this assurance from the
Blessed One, rejoiced, bowed down at his feet, and departed.

After preparing many good, wholesome foods that night, in
the morning the householder rose, prepared seats, filled the water
pots, and set them out. Then he reminded the Blessed One that it was
time for the midday meal by sending a message that said, “My lord,
the midday meal is upon us. Know that the time has come, Blessed
One, and your presence is requested.”

That morning the Blessed One donned his lower garment and
Dharma robes, and, carrying his alms bowl, he
set out surrounded and escorted by an assembly of monks.

As they arrived at the householder’s reception room, the
householder’s son saw the Blessed Buddha from a distance. The body
of the Blessed Buddha, graced and resplendent with the thirty-two
signs of a great person, looked like it was on fire, like a tongue of fire stoked with ghee, like a
lamp set in a golden vessel, and like a pillar adorned with all
manner of jewels. He was immaculate, clear-minded, and pure of
heart.

Upon seeing the Blessed Buddha, the householder’s son was
filled with supreme joy, for beings who have gathered the roots of
virtue to see a buddha for the first time experience such rapture as
is not to be had even by those who practice calm abiding meditation for twelve years. Filled with
such supreme joy at the sight of him, the child respectfully and
deliberately stood up from his seat.

No sooner had he risen from his seat than his curving spine
became straight as before, and he was filled with even more joy
toward the Blessed One. Full of joy, he approached him, touched his
head to the Blessed One’s feet, kissed them, and said, “Blessed One,
what a difficult task you have done for me! Sugata, what a difficult
task you have done for me!”

Then the Blessed One took his place on the seat prepared
for him amid the saṅgha of monks. Once the householder knew that the
Buddha and the rest of the saṅgha of monks were comfortably seated,
by his own hand he contented them with many good, wholesome foods,

proffering all that they wished. Having by his own hand contented
them with many different kinds of good, wholesome food, proffering
all that they wished, once he knew that the Blessed One had finished
eating and that his bowl had been taken away and his hands washed,
he sat before the Blessed One to listen to the Dharma.

The Blessed One directly apprehended the thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperament, and nature of the householder and his
retinue, and taught them the Dharma accordingly. Hearing it, the
householder, his retinue, and the child destroyed with the
thunderbolt of wisdom the twenty high peaks of the mountain of views
concerning the transitory collection, and manifested the resultant
state of stream entry. After the Blessed One had established them in
the truths and instructed, encouraged, inspired, and delighted the
householder with a discourse on the Dharma, he rose from his seat
and departed.

One day the young man thought, “The Blessed One has
dispelled so many kinds of suffering and anguish, brought me so much
happiness and bliss, cleared away so many of my sins and nonvirtues,
and secured for me such virtues. Let me give up living at home and,
in the presence of the Blessed One, go forth to practice the holy
life.”

Reflecting in this way, he asked for his parents’
permission and approached the Blessed One. He touched his head to
the Blessed One’s feet, drew down the right shoulder of his upper
garment, bowed toward the Blessed One with palms pressed together,
and made this request of him:

“Lord, if appropriate, I wish to go forth in the Dharma and
Vinaya so well spoken and achieve full ordination as a monk. In the
presence of the Blessed One, I too wish to practice the holy life.”

“Come, join me, monk!” replied the Blessed One. “Practice
the holy life.” As soon as the Blessed One had finished speaking
there they stood, alms bowl and water pitcher in hand, with but a
week’s worth of hair and beard, and with the deportment of a monk
who had been ordained for one hundred years. As it is said:

Garbed in robes, with shaven heads,

And senses stilled by Buddha’s will—

From the very moment the One Thus Gone

Spoke to them, saying, “Come, join me.”

Thereupon the Blessed One instructed him, and, casting away
all afflictive emotions through diligence, practice, and effort, he
manifested arhatship. As an arhat, free from the attachments of the
three realms, his mind regarded gold no differently than filth, and
the palms of his hands as like space itself. He became cool like wet
sandalwood. His insight crushed ignorance like an eggshell. He
achieved the insights, superknowledges, and discriminations. He had
no regard for worldly profit, passion, or acclaim. He became an
object of offering, veneration, and respectful address by Indra,
Upendra, and the other gods.

The monks inquired of the Blessed One, “Lord, what action
did he take that ripened into his birth into a family of great
means, prosperity, and wealth? What action did he take that ripened
into his spine becoming curved, that after he entrusted himself to
the Blessed One his spine became straight like before, and that he
pleased the Blessed One, did not displease him, went forth in the
doctrine of the Blessed One, cast away all afflictive emotions, and
manifested arhatship?”

“Monks,” the Blessed One recounted, “such are the actions
that this monk committed and accumulated:

“Monks, in times past, in this fortunate eon, when people
lived as long as twenty thousand years and the totally and
completely awakened buddha endowed with perfect knowledge and
perfect conduct, the sugata, the knower of the world, the tamer of
persons, the charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the teacher of humans
and gods, the blessed buddha known as Kāśyapa was in the world,
there lived a certain householder in the city of Vārāṇasī.

“When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and
they enjoyed themselves and coupled. One day his wife conceived, and
after nine or ten months had passed, she gave birth to twins. At the
elaborate feast celebrating their birth they named them according to
their clan. They reared them on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk
solids, and when the twins grew up, having found faith in the
doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, they
asked for their parents’ permission and went forth as novices in the
Buddha Kāśyapa’s doctrine.

“When he conferred full ordination on them, their preceptor
asked, ‘Children, the doctrine of the Blessed One is carried upon
two wheels. These two wheels are the wheel of meditation and the
wheel of recitation. Which will the two of you undertake?’

“ ‘For the time being we will put our efforts into
recitation. Later we will meditate,’ they replied.

“Their preceptor responded, ‘Do as you please,’ and, for
the time being, he had them recite.

“The younger of the two was very wild inside, whereas the
other was stable. One day after their recitation, as the stable,
older one was sleeping, the wild one dropped heavy objects on him
over and over again, until he said, ‘Venerable one, please stop
hurting me again and again!’ But the wild one did not heed his
words. Instead he got angry. To hurt his brother he hefted a nearby
brick and let it fall. Then the wild one, who had already attacked
and bashed his brother with heavy objects, threw a brick at his back
and broke the base of his spine, causing him tremendous pain.

“Suddenly the younger one saw his brother’s body in
tremendous pain, and it caused him great distress. He thought, ‘It
was a mistake for me to do such a senseless thing.’ Feeling remorse,
he brought healers, provided for all his needs, and tended to his
elder brother’s condition. Before long his back had healed.

“By the time the elder brother had healed, he had become
disillusioned with saṃsāra. He thought, ‘What is the use of this
body—it’s rotten to the core!’ Casting away all afflictive emotions
through diligence, practice, and effort, he manifested arhatship.

“The younger brother realized what his brother had
accomplished, felt tremendous joy for him, and served him with
respect. He likewise served the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha,
practiced pure conduct all his life, and at the time of his death
prayed, ‘While I may not have attained any great virtues, because I
have offered such service to the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha, and
practiced pure conduct all my life, by this root of virtue, wherever
I am born, may it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and
wealth. May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin
prophesied by the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to
be the next blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine
alone, may I cast away all afflictive emotions and manifest
arhatship. And may the act of harming such a pure being not return
to me. Should the results of that action ripen for me, may the
Blessed One cure my injured body and mind.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who went forth in the
teaching of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa then
is none other than this monk. The act of breaking the base of his
elder brother’s spine in anger ripened such that wherever he was
born, his spine was broken. After that he prayed, ‘Should the
results of that action ripen to me, may the Blessed One cure my
injured body and mind.’ And so it is that I have now protected him
from both of these injuries. The act of praying, ‘Wherever I am
born, may it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and
wealth. May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin
prophesied by the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to
be the next blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone, may I
cast away all afflictive emotions and manifest arhatship,’ ripened
such that wherever he was born, it was into a family of great means,
prosperity, and wealth.

The Second Story About “The Person with a

Curving Spine”

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī there was a nun named
Sthūlanandā who lived at a nunnery called The Royal Garden.

One day she thought, “All of the elder sisters who are
śrāvakās that have achieved miraculous powers use their powers to
travel east to Videha, north to Kurava, west to Godānīya, and to the
celestial realm of the Heaven of the Thirty-Three. They travel to
valleys that are prosperous, flourishing, happy, and well populated,
where the harvest is good, and they return with many good, wholesome
foods to eat.

“If I attain such magical powers, I too will go from here
east to Videha, north to Kurava, west to Godānīya, and to the
celestial realm of the Heaven of the Thirty-Three. And I will also
travel to valleys that are prosperous, flourishing, happy, and well
populated, where the harvest is good, and will return with many
good, wholesome foods to eat. Let me too develop magical powers!”

She continued, thinking, “Who is there that can show me how
to perform miracles? I could pay a visit to the nuns, but they are
very jealous, so they will not show me the path of miracles. It is
difficult for our requests to reach the ears of the monks. If I
can’t so much as speak to those staying at the monastery, how can I
ask them to show me the path of miracles?

“Ah! But if I go see the Band of Six—they are my relatives,
and they always wish me well and pray that my aims will be
fulfilled—they can show me the path of
miracles. What should I do? First I shall treat them well, and ply
them with material things. After that I can make my request to
them.”

With this in mind, she extended an invitation to them, and
by her own hand contented them with many good, wholesome foods,
proffering all that they wished. Then she bowed down at their feet
and said, “Noble ones, I wish to perform miracles, and you are
accomplished in showing others the path of miracles. I request your
instruction in the path of miracles. Through your power I shall
begin to perform miracles.”

The Band of Six asked her, “Sthūlanandā, have you not heard
this verse?

‘Secret lore should not be shared;

Rather, take it to your grave.

Only barter lore for lore,

Great wealth, or reverent service.’

“Nevertheless, if you wish to learn the practice of
miracles from us, first you must host us for three months. Then to
each of us you must give six different kinds of goods.”

She bowed down at their feet and said, “Please, instruct me
in the path of miracles, and I will do this.”

“Elder sister,” said the Band of Six, “first take care to
make your body light. Then, with practice, one day you will have no
difficulty with miracles.”

“What should I do to make my body light?” she asked.

“For a while you have to eat very little,” they told her.
“After that, on the first day, climb onto a small chair and jump
down from it. The next day, stack two chairs and climb up on them
and jump down. In the same way, from the third day on up to the
seventh day, stack one chair upon another, then climb up and jump
down. Then, in the same way, leap from the second story of a
building. At that time, due to your practice, your body will have
become light, and after that, due to your practice, you will
accomplish miracles.”

As soon as she heard this, Sthūlanandā began to follow
their instructions just as they had said. But on the seventh day,
she climbed up on the stack of seven chairs, jumped down, and broke
her hip.

She said to the Band of Six, “Noble ones, look what
happened to me. Now what should I do?”

“We showed you what we know,” replied the Band of Six. Once
this method has made your body light, one day you will perform
miracles without difficulty. The rest is up to you.”

When she heard this she was consumed with fury, and she
lashed out at all those who came to the nunnery. Brimming with
malice, she drove them away from the nunnery with her insults.

Those to whom she told her story scolded and blamed her.
The monks heard it, and they inquired of the Blessed One, “Lord,
tell us why Bhikṣuṇī Sthūlanandā abased herself for the sake of
miraculous powers, acting as host for the three months of winter,
even portioning out much of her alms and Dharma robes, but did not
attain miraculous powers.”

“Not only now,” the Blessed One explained, “but in times
past as well, and in the same way, the Band of Six deceived the nun
Sthūlanandā and she did not attain her goal. Listen well!

“Monks, in times gone by, during King Brahmadatta’s reign
in the city of Vārāṇasī, there were certain carpenters at work
building for the king a palatial home on the grounds of the royal
palace. They would mark the crooked beams with a
carpenter’s cord, then plane them down until they were straight.

“One of the king’s treasurers was a woman with a crooked
spine. As she was watching the carpenters mark and straighten all
the crooked beams she thought, ‘These carpenters are highly skilled.
If they can straighten such rough, crooked beams, they will surely
be able to straighten my smooth body as well! How could they not?’

“She went to them and asked, ‘Can you straighten my curving
spine?’

“ ‘We can,’ they replied, ‘but you have to pay us in
advance. Be host to us for three months. Then give us gifts of
clothing and jewelry. After that we will straighten your curving
spine.’

“ ‘As you wish,’ she said.

“For three months she served them good, wholesome meals. On
the last day, she gave them clothing and jewelry and said, ‘There, I
have given you gifts. Now you must straighten my curving spine.’

“ ‘Elder sister,’ they replied, ‘after we mark our crooked
beams with a cord, we plane them down to straighten them. We can
mark your back with a cord and pare it straight with an axe, if you
can bear the pain.’

“ ‘That technique will kill me. I won’t survive!’ she
cried.

“ ‘That’s all we know,’ the carpenters replied. ‘The rest
is up to you.’ She fell silent in embarrassment and dismay. To speak
to anyone was more than she could bear.

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was the old woman
then is none other than Sthūlanandā. Those who were the carpenters
then are none other than the Band of Six. They deceived her then,
and she did not accomplish her aims. Now they have deceived her once
again, and she has not performed any miracles.”

The Story of Udayin

When the Blessed One was in Rājagṛha, Venerable
Piṇḍolabhāradvāja,
who had cast away all afflictions and manifested arhatship, thought,
“The Blessed One has dispelled so many kinds of suffering and anguish,
brought me many kinds of happiness and bliss, cleared away so many of my
sins and nonvirtues, and secured for me such virtues. How could I repay
the Blessed One’s kindness?”

Then it occurred to him, “Anytime a buddha arises in the world,
it is only to benefit beings. There’s no doubt that I too should act for
the benefit of beings!” With this in mind, he wondered, “Whom might I
tame?”

He saw that he could tame many in Kauśāmbī, so after staying in
Rājagṛha for as long as he liked, he donned his lower garment and Dharma
robes, and, carrying his alms bowl, went to Kauśāmbī for alms. He
eventually arrived at Kauśāmbī, where he stayed in the garden of the
householder Ghoṣila.

Now this monk was also a person of great merit, and was widely
known for having gone from being a son of the royal family priest to
being a monk. Many people in Kauśāmbī had heard that Noble
Piṇḍolabhāradvāja was traveling through the countryside and had now
come to the city of Kauśāmbī, where he was staying in the garden of the
householder Ghoṣila. Upon hearing this they gathered—group after group
and elder after elder—and convened in Kauśāmbī.

They approached Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, and upon their
arrival
they gathered together, bowed down at Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja’s
feet, and sat before him to listen to the Dharma. Then Venerable
Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, directly apprehending their thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperaments, and natures, taught them the Dharma
accordingly.

As soon as they heard it, some of the inhabitants of Kauśāmbī
who had gathered there generated heat. Some generated the peak, or
generated the patience in accord with the truths, or generated the
highest worldly dharma, or generated the attainment of seeing, right
where they sat.

Some manifested the resultant state of stream entry. Some
manifested the resultant state of once-return. Some manifested the
resultant state of non-return. Some went forth and manifested arhatship.
Some sowed the seeds to become universal monarchs, some to become great
universal monarchs, some to become Indra, some to become Brahmā, some
for the enlightenment of the listeners, some for the enlightenment of
the solitary buddhas, and some for unexcelled, total, and complete
enlightenment. Among the assembled, most found themselves drawn to the
Buddha, intent on the Dharma, and favoring the Saṅgha.

Having seen the truths, they rose from their seats, drew down
the right shoulder of their upper garments, bowed toward Venerable
Piṇḍolabhāradvāja with palms pressed together, and beseeched him,
“After we entrusted ourselves to you, noble one, you lifted us up from
among the hell beings, animals, and anguished spirits. Leading us to
live among the gods and humans, you dried up the ocean of blood and
tears and led us over the mountain pass of bones to cast away all the
afflictive emotions to which we have been accustomed since beginningless
time.
Noble one, for as long as we live, please accept from us your provisions
of clothing, food, bedding, a seat, and medicines for the sick.”

“Friends,” replied Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, “there are
other householders I must help as well. Please allow me to go.” The
inhabitants of Kauśāmbī who had gathered there rejoiced at what
Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja had said to them, touched their heads to
Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja’s feet, and departed.

From time to time those who had seen the truths would visit
Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja and listen to the Dharma. One day, as those
living in Kauśāmbī were gathering together—group after group and elder
after elder—King Udayin of Vatsa arrayed the four divisions of his
army
and set out to hunt deer.

When King Udayin of Vatsa saw the assembly of those living in
Kauśāmbī going to the garden of the householder Ghoṣila, he immediately
asked his ministers, “Where are these country folk going?”

“Deva,” the ministers replied, “the child of your family
priest, the one called Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, has cast aside the royal
concerns of home and crown and gone forth. He has now made his way
through the countryside to Kauśāmbī, where he is staying in the garden
of the householder Ghoṣila. It is him they are traveling to see.”

As soon as he heard this, the king declared, “For a long time
he has pleased me and been dear to my heart, and it is my duty to pay
tribute to a preceptor. I will also go to see him and pay him respect.”

They went to the householder Ghoṣila’s garden, but the elder
monk did not receive the king, nor did he so much as stand. When the
king saw this, he was instantly consumed with fury.
Seething with anger, he paid respect to the elder monk and then
departed.

He said to his ministers, “Behold the renunciant
Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, the child of the country’s royal family priest! He
saw me, but he would not receive me—he wouldn’t so much as stand!”

To this his hateful ministers replied, “Deva, even though he
saw you, he did not receive you, nor did he so much as stand! Such
behavior is inappropriate.”

The king was heartbroken about this, and it made him extremely
unhappy. After hunting deer with his army, he returned to the area of
the monastery in anger, thinking, “Now I am going to go see that monk
again. When he sees me, if he does not receive me properly—if he does
not so much as stand—I shall lop off his head and throw it away!” With
this in mind, he entered the householder Ghoṣila’s garden.

Now Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja heard that King Udayin of
Vatsa was on the way to see him, and as soon as he did, he thought, “Why
is King Udayin coming to see me again?” And he saw that the king was
thinking, “If that monk fails to receive me properly upon sight—if he
refuses even to stand—I shall lop off his head and toss it to the
ground!”

Knowing the king’s thoughts, he rose from meditation and took
six steps to receive him. As soon as he did so, the king’s air of
splendor disappeared and a fissure appeared in the earth. The king saw
this and was immediately afraid.

“This monk is a person of great miracles and great power,” he
thought. “As I was approaching him with spiteful thoughts, through his
power my splendor disappeared and the earth split open.”

Sure of this, he approached Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, bowed
down at his feet, and said, “Noble one, please forgive
my childish, deluded, uncouth blunder.”

“Great King, I forgive you, but you must ask forgiveness of
your own mind,” the elder monk replied.

“Lord, won’t my kingdom fall now? Won’t I lose my life?” asked
the king.

“Never fear, Great King, never fear!” replied the elder monk.
“Your kingdom will not fall, nor will you lose your life. However, Great
King, my taking six steps to receive you will cause you to lose your
kingdom for six months. Then, after six months have passed, you will
regain your kingdom. Furthermore, Great King, you must feel joy toward
me. For as soon as you feel joy toward me, you will prevent your fall
into the earth, and your air of splendor will return.”

As soon as he heard this, the king felt joy toward the elder
monk, and as soon as he felt this joy, his air of splendor returned and
the fissure in the earth closed up. At that moment the king again felt a
surge of joy toward the elder monk. Filled with such joy, he touched his
head to the elder monk’s feet and departed.

One day King Udayin of Vatsa again arrayed the four divisions
of his army and set out to hunt deer. They saw a deer and approached it,
with the army on one side and the king on the other. But on his way
through the wilderness the king was separated from his army and became
disoriented.

He wandered into a cattle pen and, not recognizing anyone or
being recognized by anyone, he went mad, and remained there in the
cattle pen for six months. His children, ministers, and attendants all
went looking for him, but were unable to find him. They returned to the
royal palace wondering, “What shall we do now if we don’t find him?
Where will we go?” And they sat in silence.

Six months later someone recognized the king and asked, “Deva,
what are you doing here?”

Coming to his senses, the king related to the cowherds all that
had taken place. “Take heart, Deva,” the cowherds told him. “We shall
bring you to the royal palace.” The cowherds set out for Kauśāmbī with
the king traveling separately behind them.

After six months had passed, a minister named The Son of
Enveloped in the Darkness of Logic remembered which direction the king
had gone, and thought, “We must search for him. If we find him alive, he
will carry on his reign. If not—if something went wrong—then we shall
put his child on the throne.”

With this in mind, they organized the four divisions of the
army. As they searched the villages, towns, cities, kingdom, and royal
palaces, The Son of Enveloped in the Darkness of Logic saw King Udayin
of Vatsa from a distance. Delighted to see him, he approached the king,
inquired after his health, and asked him, “Deva, where did you go?”
whereupon King Udayin of Vatsa related the story in detail.

“Deva,” said The Son of Enveloped in the Darkness of Logic, “it
is all just as Noble Piṇḍolabhāradvāja prophesied.”

Hearing this, the king felt a surge of joy toward the elder
monk and thought, “For now let me put off returning to the city. I will
go and pay respect to Noble Piṇḍolabhāradvāja.”

With this in mind he bypassed Kauśāmbī and went to the
householder Ghoṣila’s garden. He traveled as far as he could by vehicle,
then descended from his vehicle and continued to the garden on foot.
There he approached Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja, bowed down at his feet,
and sat before him to listen to the Dharma. The elder monk taught him a
Dharma particularly suited to him.

When Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja had completed his discourse,
King Udayin of Vatsa rose from his seat, drew down the right shoulder of
his upper garment, bowed toward Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja with his
palms together, and implored him, “Noble one, please permit me to
request you and the saṅgha of monks to take your food at my house for
seven days.”

Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja assented by his silence.
Understanding that by his silence Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja had given
his assent, King Udayin of Vatsa rose from his seat, bowed down at
Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja’s feet, and departed.

Once he had contented Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja and his
retinue with many good, wholesome foods for seven days, at the end of
the last day he offered each of them a set of robes fashioned from
cotton and then sat before them to listen to the Dharma. Venerable
Piṇḍolabhāradvāja instructed, encouraged, inspired, and delighted them
with a discourse on the Dharma particularly suited to them. After he had
instructed, encouraged, inspired, and delighted them, he rose from his
seat and departed.

One day the Blessed One, having stayed in Rājagṛha for as long
as he liked, donned his Dharma robes, and, carrying his alms bowl, set
out for Kauśāmbī, surrounded and escorted by an assembly of monks. He
made his way through the countryside until he arrived in Kauśāmbī, where
he stayed in the householder Ghoṣila’s garden.

King Udayin of Vatsa heard that the Blessed One was traveling
through the country of Vatsa and had arrived in Kauśāmbī,
where he was staying in the householder Ghoṣila’s garden. Hearing this,
he approached the Blessed One, touched his head to the Blessed One’s
feet, and took a seat at one side.

Once King Udayin of Vatsa had taken a seat at one side, the
Blessed One instructed, encouraged, inspired, and delighted him with a
discourse on the Dharma. After he had instructed, encouraged, inspired,
and delighted him with a discourse on the Dharma, he sat without
speaking.

Knowing that the Blessed One had completed his discourse, King
Udayin of Vatsa then rose from his seat, drew down the right shoulder of
his upper garment, bowed toward the Blessed One with palms pressed
together, and said, “Please permit me to provide the Blessed One and the
rest of the saṅgha of monks with provisions of clothing, food, bedding,
seats, and medicines for the sick for the three months of winter.” The
Blessed One assented by his silence.

Understanding that by his silence the Blessed One had given his
assent, King Udayin of Vatsa then provided for all their needs there in
the householder Ghoṣila’s garden. After respectfully providing for all
the needs of the Buddha and the rest of the saṅgha of monks for three
months, he offered the Blessed One very
costly
food on the last day. Then he offered each of the other monks a set of
cotton robes, and they departed.

From time to time he approached the Blessed One to listen to
the Dharma. After hearing the Dharma from the
Blessed One, he always made a point of going to offer his respectful
service to Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja. When the monks saw him, they
became suspicious.

“Why should this king make a point of going to offer such
respectful service to Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja?” they wondered.

Then they heard the story in detail. After they heard it, they
asked the Blessed One, “Lord, tell us why King Udayin of Vatsa
approached Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja with spiteful thoughts, which
caused his air of splendor to disappear, and just as he was about to
fall into a narrow fissure, his mind again became filled with joy and
his splendor returned, and the narrow fissure closed up as well.”

“Not only now, monks,” the Blessed One explained, “but this
happened in times past as well, and in the same way, during King Meru’s
reign in the city called Flourishing Rice. The kingdom was prosperous,
flourishing, happy, and well populated. The harvest was good. Quarreling
and arguments had ceased, there was no fighting or infighting, and there
were no robbers, thieves, illness, or famine. Rice, sugarcane, cattle,
and buffalo were plentiful. His was a reign in accord with the Dharma,
and he treated the kingdom like a beloved only child.

“When the time came for the king’s family priest to marry, he
took a wife, and they enjoyed themselves and coupled. As they enjoyed
themselves and coupled, one day his wife conceived, and after nine or
ten months had passed, she gave birth to a child who was well
proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. At the elaborate feast
celebrating his birth they named him according to their clan.

“They reared him on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk
solids, and as he grew up he studied letters, brahminical customs and
conduct, the syllables oṁ and bho, ritual purity, ritual actions, the collection of ashes, the holding
of the ritual vase, the Ṛg Veda, the
Yajur Veda, the Sāma Veda, the Atharva Veda, how to perform sacrificial rites, how to lead
others in performing sacrificial rites, how to give and receive
offerings, recitation, and recitation instruction. Trained in these
procedures, he became a master of the six types of brahminical
activities, and in time he mastered the eighteen sciences.

“He came to see that his father administrated the affairs of
the kingdom both righteously and unrighteously. Recognizing this he
thought, ‘After my father dies, I shall rule the kingdom without a
crown. Let me then give up living at home and go to live in the forest.’
Reflecting in this way, he asked for his parents’ permission and went to
live in the forest. There he generated the four meditative states and
the five superknowledges.

“One day he went to the royal palace in the city of Flourishing
Rice. Upon his arrival in the park his father fashioned him a hut of
branches and leaves, and began to provide for all his needs. Many people
would come from time to time to see him and to listen to the Dharma.

“Then one day King Meru arrayed the four divisions of the army
and set out to hunt deer. The king saw many people entering the park,
and he asked, ‘Where are all these people going?’

“ ‘Deva,’ his ministers replied, ‘the child of the royal family
priest not only has gone forth, but is a person of great miracles and
great power as well. They are all going to see him.’

“Thereupon the king thought, ‘He pleases me and is dear to my
heart, and it is my duty to pay tribute to a preceptor. I will also go
and see him.’ The king went to see the sage. But upon seeing the king,
the sage did not receive him, nor did he so much as stand.

“When the king saw this, he was suddenly consumed with fury.
‘This is the child of my family priest! When I arrive, he does not
receive me—he does not so much as stand! I shall have his head!’ he
thought, and no sooner had he thought this than the air of splendor
surrounding the king’s body disappeared, and a fissure appeared in the
earth and he began to sink into it.

“Seeing this, the king was suddenly afraid. ‘This sage is a
person of great miracles and great power,’ he thought. Reflecting on
this, he was filled with great joy, and he bowed down at the sage’s feet
and asked his forgiveness.

“ ‘Great King,’ replied the sage, ‘though I forgive you, you
must ask forgiveness of your own mind.’

“In fear the king asked the sage, ‘But, sage, won’t my kingdom
fall now? Won’t I lose my life?’

“ ‘Never fear, Great King, never fear!’ said the sage. ‘Your
kingdom will not fall, and you will not lose your life. However, Great
King, it is because of your spiteful thoughts toward me that your air of
splendor disappeared and the earth cracked open. Great King, as soon as
you again feel joy toward me, your air of splendor will return.’ As soon
as he heard this, the king felt joy toward the sage, and as soon as he
felt this joy, his air of splendor returned and the crack in the earth
closed up.

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was the sage then is
none other than Venerable Piṇḍolabhāradvāja. The one who was King Meru
then is none other than King Udayin of Vatsa. At that time, as soon as
he had spiteful thoughts toward the elder monk, his air of splendor
disappeared and the earth cracked open, and as soon as he felt joy
toward him, his aura of splendor returned and the fissure in the earth
closed up. And again, recently he had spiteful thoughts toward him, his
splendor disappeared, and the earth cracked open. But no
sooner did he feel joy toward him then his aura of splendor returned,
and the crack in the earth closed up.”

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī there was a king named
Brahmadatta who reigned in the city of Vārāṇasī. His
kingdom was prosperous, flourishing, happy, and well populated. The
harvest was good. Quarreling and arguments had ceased, there was no
fighting or infighting, and there were no robbers, thieves, illness, or
famine. Rice, sugarcane, cattle, and buffalo were plentiful. His was a
reign in accord with the Dharma, and he treated the kingdom like a
beloved only child.

One day the queen conceived, and after nine or ten months had
passed, she gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to
the eye, and beautiful. At the elaborate feast celebrating her birth
they asked, “What name should we give this child?” And they named her,
saying, “Since she is both the child of the king of Kāśi and very
beautiful, her name will be Kāśisundarī (Beauty of Kāśi).”

Kāśisundarī had eight nurses—two nurses to hold her in their
laps, two wet nurses, two nurses to bathe her, and two nurses to play
with her. These eight nurses reared her on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee,
and milk solids, and she flourished like a lotus in a lake. As she grew
up she became versed in the arts. She found faith in the doctrine of the
Blessed One, and having asked for her parents’ permission, she offered
her service to the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha.

When she had grown people said, “This daughter of the king of
Kāśi is well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful—in all the
world there’s none like her,” and her fame spread far and wide.

Now there were six neighboring kings who were shot with arrows
of lust upon hearing this, and they all sent envoys to
Brahmadatta, the king of Kāśi, bearing the message,
“Please give your daughter to me.”

When he heard this, King Brahmadatta immediately
sat and reflected. “If I give my daughter to one of them,” he thought,
“the others will become my enemies. To whom then should I give her?” In
light of this he did not want to give her to anyone.

One day the six neighboring kings thought, “He will not give
his daughter to any of us of his own free will. Therefore we must go and
take her away by force.” With this in mind, on the same day they all
armored the four divisions of their armies and went to Vārāṇasī, where
they surrounded the entire perimeter of the city.

Then King Brahmadatta, realizing that the enemy
armies were a threat to him, climbed to the roof of the palace. There he
sat and brooded with his cheek resting on his palm, wondering, “What
shall I do now?” Kāśisundarī came to the roof of the palace, where she
found her father sitting with his cheek resting on his palm, and asked
him, “Father, why have you come to the roof of the palace to brood with
your cheek resting on your palm?”

“It is because of you, my child,” said the king.

“Is my appearance so poor, father?” the young woman asked. “Why
should my father sit and brood because of me?”

“My child,” replied the king, “it is because your every limb is
endowed with beauty that I sit and brood, and it is because of you that
the six quarreling neighboring kings have arrayed the four divisions of
their armies and advanced on Vārāṇasī, surrounding the city in siege.”

“Can a daughter not choose a spouse for herself, father?”
Kāśisundarī wondered.

“A daughter may choose,” said the king.

“Father,” the young woman said, “please permit me to choose my own
spouse.”

“Oh child,” he replied, “please wait for me to inform the
neighboring kings.”

King Brahmadatta told the neighboring kings,“Kāśisundarī shall make her own choice regarding a spouse. Therefore Iask that you accept her decision.”

At this they all thought, “Kāśisundarī will not forsake one
such as me to choose another,” and replied, “She will not err—let her
choose her husband!”

The envoys went and relayed this to King
Brahmadatta, and he was very pleased to hear it. After
he had replied to each in turn, they cut their thumbs and swore an oath.
Then on a wide and suitable place, they all built multistory structures
in a long row, in which each of them sat, surrounded by their retinues,
on highly ornamented lion thrones.

Kāśisundarī—astride a fine mount, attended by a band of young
women, and hoisting a victory banner of colored cloth—emerged from
Vārāṇasī into their midst. Then she faced Ṛṣivadana, cast her bridal
bouquet in the direction of the Blessed One, and crying out, “I take
refuge in the Blessed Buddha!” she oriented her chariot toward
Ṛṣivadana.

The kings and everyone in the great crowd realized to their
astonishment that they had never seen so desirable a form as the fine
one before them, and they trailed behind her, saying, “Let’s see what
she does!”

Kāśisundarī rode as far toward Ṛṣivadana as she could by
vehicle, then descended from her vehicle and continued to the garden on
foot. There she approached the Blessed One, touched her head to the feet
of the Blessed One, drew down the right shoulder of her
upper garment, bowed toward the Blessed One with palms pressed together,
and requested, “Lord, if permitted I wish to go forth in the Dharma and
Vinaya so well spoken, complete my novitiate, and achieve full
ordination. In the presence of the Blessed One, I too wish to practice
the holy life.” The Blessed One called Mahāprajāpatī Gautamī, and
Mahāprajāpatī Gautamī led her to go forth as a novice, conferred on her
full ordination, and instructed her.

Casting away all afflictive emotions through diligence,
practice, and effort, she manifested arhatship. As an arhat, free from
the attachments of the three realms, her mind regarded gold no
differently than filth, and the palms of her hands as like space itself.
She became cool like wet sandalwood. Her insight crushed ignorance like
an eggshell. She achieved the insights, superknowledges, and
discriminations. She had no regard for worldly profit, passion, or
acclaim. She became an object of offering, veneration, and respectful
address by Indra, Upendra, and the other gods.

The entire crowd of people was astonished, and all of them
approached the Blessed One, touched their heads to the Blessed One’s
feet, and sat before him to listen to the Dharma. The Blessed One taught
them the Dharma particularly suited to them, and after they heard the
Dharma from the Blessed One, each of them returned home.

“Blessed One,” the monks asked, “what action did Kāśisundarī
take that ripened into her birth into a family of great means,
prosperity, and wealth; that she was well proportioned, pleasing to the
eye, and beautiful—an unmatched figure; and that she pleased and did not
displease the Blessed One, went forth in the doctrine of the Blessed
One, cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifested arhatship?”

“It came about by the power of her prayers,” the Blessed One
replied.

“Lord, where did she make these prayers?”

“Monks,” explained the Blessed One, “in times past, in this
fortunate eon, when people lived as long as twenty thousand years and
the tathāgata, the arhat, the totally and completely awakened buddha
possessed of insight and perfect conduct, the sugata, the knower of the
world, the tamer of persons, the charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the
teacher of humans and gods, the blessed buddha Kāśyapa was in the world,
there lived in the city of Vārāṇasī a certain householder, prosperous
and wealthy, a person of vast and magnificent means, endowed with the
wealth of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.

“When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and they
enjoyed themselves and coupled. As they enjoyed themselves and coupled,
one day his wife conceived, and after nine or ten months had passed, she
gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful. At the elaborate feast celebrating her birth they named
her according to their clan. They reared her on milk, yogurt, butter,
ghee, and milk solids, and she flourished like a lotus in a lake.

“When she grew up, she found faith in the doctrine of the
totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa. She asked for her
parents’ permission, built a monastery that was complete in every
respect, offered it to Buddha Kāśyapa and the rest of the saṅgha of
monks, and provided for all their needs. Then she made another request
of her parents and went forth as a novice in the doctrine of the totally
and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa. Once she had gone forth, she
studied the Tripiṭaka and became a proponent of the Dharma
with all the eloquence of her wisdom and freedom.

“Thereupon she thought, ‘I have completed my studies. Now I
will put my effort into meditation.’ She received instructions for
contemplation, and through her earnest practice, foregoing sleep from
dusk to dawn, she developed meditative stabilization on
love and there practiced pure conduct all her life.

“At the time of her death she prayed, ‘I have given gifts, made
merit, gone forth in the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened
Buddha Kāśyapa, and practiced pure conduct all my life. By this root of
virtue, wherever I am born, may it be into a family of great means,
prosperity, and wealth. May I be well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful—an unmatched figure. May I please and not displease
Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by the totally and completely
awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next blessed buddha. Going forth in
his doctrine alone may I cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifest
arhatship.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who went forth as a nun in
the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa then
is now Kāśisundarī. At that time she gave gifts, made merit, went forth
in the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa,
and practiced pure conduct all her life.

“At the time of her death she prayed, ‘Wherever I am born, may
it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth. May I be
well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful—an unmatched
figure. May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin
prophesied by the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be
the next blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone may I cast
away all afflictive emotions and manifest arhatship.’ Those acts
ripened such that she was born into a family of great means, prosperity,
and wealth and was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and
beautiful—an unmatched figure.

“So it is, monks, now that I myself have become the very equal
of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa—equal in strength,
equal in deeds, and equal in skillful means—that she has pleased me, not
displeased me, gone forth in my very doctrine, cast away all afflictive
emotions, and manifested arhatship. And her development of
meditative stabilization on love ripened such that
wherever she was born, her beauty was unmatched.”

The Story of Kṣemā

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī, King Prasenajit reigned
in the city of Śrāvastī and King Brahmadatta reigned in
Vārāṇasī. The two did not agree with one another, and from time to time
a great many people were killed. One day King Brahmadatta
arrayed the four divisions of his army and advanced on the kingdom of
Kośala, where they made camp and stayed on the banks of the Ajiravatī
River.

King Prasenajit heard that King Brahmadatta had
arrayed the four divisions of his army and come to the city gates to
wage war, so he arrayed the four divisions of his army too and set out
to wage war against Brahmadatta, King of Kāśi. They too
made camp and hunkered down on the banks of the Ajiravatī River. Many on
each side were slaughtered while the two armies were stationed there.
Both sides were formidable and resistant to assault, and so it
continued, with neither side able to defeat the other.

One day as they were hunkered down there, a daughter was born to
King Prasenajit who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and
beautiful. A son who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and
beautiful had also been born to King Brahmadatta of Kāśi,
so celebratory music resounded from both of their camps.

Hearing the music coming from both sides, the kings asked,
“What is all this celebratory music?”

King Brahmadatta’s ministers replied, “It is for
the birth of King Prasenajit’s daughter, and for you, Deva, upon the
arrival of your son,” and King Prasenajit’s ministers replied, “It is
for you, Deva, upon the arrival of your daughter, and for the birth of
King Brahmadatta’s son.”

When they heard this, both were in good spirits, and thought,
“We should not treat each other as enemies now that we have the means to
become kin!”

King Brahmadatta sent an envoy to King Prasenajit
with the message, “Please give your newborn daughter to my son in
marriage.”

King Prasenajit thought, “This will be a way to make friends
with King Brahmadatta for the rest of my life,” and sent an
envoy to King Brahmadatta with the response, “I shall
comply with your wish.” The two asked forgiveness of one another and
made friends. One sent a great wealth of clothing and finery for the
girl, and the other sent much clothing and finery for the boy. As
friends, the two now departed the region with their arms around each
other’s shoulders.

King Prasenajit thought, “Since the birth of my daughter, I am
happy with King Brahmadatta,” so he named her Kṣemā (She
Who Brings Happiness) at the elaborate feast celebrating her birth. They
reared her on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids, and she
flourished like a lotus in a lake. When she grew up she found faith in
the doctrine of the Blessed Buddha, went for refuge and took the
fundamental precepts, made merit, and went continually to
the nunnery to listen to the Dharma.

So it was that one day she manifested the resultant state of
non-return and attained miraculous powers. Endowed with great power and
magical abilities, she achieved concentration on the eight liberations.
She demonstrated the miracle of her magical abilities for her parents,
and said, “Mother, Father, now that I have achieved these things, I
cannot engage in sexual relations, so I am asking for your kind
permission to go forth in the doctrine of the Blessed One.”

“My child, we cannot allow this,” her parents said, “for we
betrothed you as soon as you were born. We have already sent our word
and set aside our dispute, but still—when the wedding party comes for
you, you can make your request to the groom and go forth, should he
agree.”

Then King Prasenajit sent an envoy to King
Brahmadatta with the message, “Our daughter Kṣemā
wishes to go forth. We cannot stop her. Do not delay in making her a
bride.”

King Brahmadatta likewise sent an envoy with the
response, “I shall come on such-and-such a date. Start making
preparations for her to be sent away as a bride.”

When King Prasenajit heard this, he began making preparations
to send her away as a bride. King Brahmadatta then sent his
son with great riches and a great show of force, whereupon King
Prasenajit respectfully led the delegation into Śrāvastī.

Once the wedding delegation had been led in, an altar was
erected and decorated with ornaments, and many people gathered there.
They clad the young woman in every type of adornment and led her to her
place at the decorated altar. Then the young man too was led to the
decorated altar, and he turned and beckoned to young Kṣemā. Suddenly she
rose up into the sky and gave a miraculous display of
fire and light, rain and lightning.

When the young man and the many others saw this they
experienced a surge of tremendous joy toward Kṣemā, and the young man
thought, “How could she engage in sexual relations with me, now that she
has attained such great virtues?”

He called out to her, “Fine woman, come down! I’ll let you
decide as you please!”

Kṣemā told him, “Lord, I cannotengage in sexual relations with you—please give your consent to my goingforth in the doctrine of the Blessed One.”

“Given,” the young man replied. Young Kṣemā immediately
descended and gave a Dharma teaching to the people. Then she asked for
her parents’ permission, went to the garden of Prince Jeta, approached
the Blessed One, touched her head to the Blessed One’s feet, and
requested, “Lord, if permitted I wish to go forth in the Dharma and
Vinaya so well spoken, complete my novitiate, and achieve full
ordination. In the presence of the Blessed One, I too wish to practice
the holy life.” Thereupon the Blessed One presented her to
Mahāprajāpatī.

Mahāprajāpatī led her to go forth as a novice, conferred on
her full ordination, and instructed her. Casting away all afflictive
emotions through diligence, practice, and effort, she manifested
arhatship. As an arhat, free from the attachments of the three realms,
her mind regarded gold no differently than filth, and the palms of her
hands as like space itself. She became cool like wet sandalwood. Her
insight crushed ignorance like an eggshell. She achieved the insights,
superknowledges, and discriminations. She had no regard for worldly
profit, passion, or acclaim. Her state was such that Indra, Upendra,
and the other gods worshiped and venerated her and addressed her with
respect, and the Blessed One commended her as foremost among the wise.

After Kṣemā had gone forth in this way, the king’s son thought,
“If even a woman can have such realizations of the Dharma, surely I can
go forth in the Blessed One’s doctrine as well.” With this thought, he
likewise asked for his parents’ permission, and, casting away all
afflictive emotions through diligence, practice, and effort, he
manifested arhatship.

The monks asked the Blessed One, “Lord, what actions did young
Kṣemā and the king’s son take that ripened into their births into
families of great means, prosperity, and wealth; that they pleased and
did not displease the Blessed One; and that they went forth in the
doctrine of the Blessed One, cast away all afflictive emotions, and
manifested arhatship?”

“This happened due to the power of their prayers,” the Blessed
One replied.

“Lord, where did they make these prayers?”

“Monks,” explained the Blessed One, “in times past, in this
fortunate eon, when people lived as long as twenty thousand years and
the tathāgata, the arhat, the totally and completely awakened buddha
possessed of insight and perfect conduct, the sugata, the knower of the
world, the tamer of persons, the charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the
teacher of humans and gods, the blessed buddha known as Kāśyapa was in
the world, there lived in the city of Vārāṇasī a certain householder,
prosperous and wealthy, a person of vast and magnificent means, endowed
with the wealth of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.

“When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and they
enjoyed themselves and coupled. Then one day they both found faith in
the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa and
said
to one another, ‘Good spouse, seeing as we have neither sons nor
daughters, after we die all that we have will become property of the
king. So while we yet live, let us carry only that which we can take
with us into the next life.’

“The two spouses built a monastery that was complete in every
respect, offered it to the totally and completely awakened Buddha
Kāśyapa and the rest of the saṅgha of monks, provided for all their
needs, and served them with respect.

“One day they had an idea and said, ‘Let us give up living at
home to go forth in the teaching of the totally and completely awakened
Buddha Kāśyapa.’ Casting away household affairs, they gave gifts and
made merit, went forth as novices in the doctrine of the totally and
completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, and received full ordination.

“They practiced pure conduct all their lives, and while they
may not have attained any great virtues, at the time of their deaths
they prayed, ‘While we may not have attained any great virtues, still we
have gone forth in the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened
Buddha Kāśyapa, given gifts, made merit, and practiced pure conduct all
our lives. By this root of virtue, wherever we are born, may it be into
families of great means, prosperity, and wealth, and may we be well
proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. May we please and not
displease Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by the totally and
completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next blessed buddha. May we
go forth in his doctrine, cast away all afflictive emotions, and
manifest arhatship.’

“O monks, what do you think? The two who were married then are none
other than Kṣemā and the king’s son. The acts of giving gifts, making
merit, practicing pure conduct all their lives, and praying at the time
of their deaths ripened such that wherever they were born, it was into
families of great means, prosperity, and wealth, and they were well
proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful.

The Story of Maṇiprabha

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī there was a young god
named Maṇiprabha, who had hoops in his ears and necklaces around his
neck, and whose body was graced with strings of precious stones. He had
a luminous celestial mansion of exquisite, divine jewels. This exalted
being of light filled the front of his long shirt with divine
flowers—lotus, blue lotus, white water lily, and white lotus flowers—and
when night had fallen he went to the garden of Prince Jeta in Śrāvastī
to see the Blessed One. Upon his arrival, he scattered the divine blue
lotus, lotus, white water lily, white lotus, and mandārava flowers over
the Blessed One, touched his head to the Blessed One’s feet, and sat
before him to listen to the Dharma.

The Blessed One directly apprehended his thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperament, and nature, and taught him the Dharma
accordingly. Hearing it, the young god destroyed the twenty high peaks
of the mountain of views concerning the transitory collection with the
thunderbolt of wisdom, and manifested the resultant state of stream
entry right where he sat. Having seen the truths, he touched his head to
the Blessed One’s feet, circumambulated him three times, and disappeared
on the spot.

When that happened, the monks, who were making continued,
earnest, and sleepless efforts at dusk and dawn, noticed that the garden
of Prince Jeta was suffused with a great light and wondered, “What was
this? Last night, did Sahāṃpati Brahmā, or Śakra, King of the Gods—or
perhaps the four great kings—come to offer respect to the Blessed One?”

Thinking this, they asked the Blessed One, “Lord, last night,
did Sahāṃpati Brahmā, or Śakra, King of the Gods—or perhaps the four
great kings—come to see the Blessed One?”

“Monks,” the Blessed One replied, “last night it was neither
Sahāṃpati Brahmā, nor Śakra, King of the Gods, nor the four great kings
who came to see me, but rather a young god named Maṇiprabha, a very
exalted being of light with a luminous celestial mansion of exquisite,
divine jewels, who came to see me and to offer his respect. I taught him
the Dharma, and after he heard the Dharma from me he manifested the
resultant state of stream entry. Having seen the truths, he went back to
where he belongs.”

“Lord, what action did Maṇiprabha take that ripened into his
birth as a god, that he attained a luminous celestial mansion of
exquisite, divine jewels, and that he pleased the Blessed One, and did
not displease him?”

“Monks,” explained the Blessed One, “Maṇiprabha committed and
accumulated the actions himself at a previous time. The actions he
committed and accumulated did not ripen into the external element of
earth. They did not ripen into the element of water, nor the element of
fire, nor the element of wind. The actions he committed and accumulated,
both virtuous and nonvirtuous, ripened into nothing but his own
aggregates, sense bases, and constituent elements.

“When the time arrives—and even if

A hundred eons pass—

Fruit is born of every act

That sentient beings amass.

“Monks, in times past, in this fortunate age when people lived
as long as twenty thousand years and the tathāgata, the arhat, the
totally and completely awakened buddha possessed of insight and perfect
conduct, the sugata, the knower of the world, the tamer of persons, the
charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the teacher of humans and gods, the
blessed buddha known as Kāśyapa was in the world, there lived in
Vārāṇasī a certain householder, prosperous and wealthy, a person of vast
and magnificent means, endowed with the wealth of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth
to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.

“That householder constructed a stūpa enshrining the hair and
nail relics of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, and a
monastery that was complete in every respect, and he provided for all
the monastery’s needs. Even the rain gutters of the stūpa dangled with
jewels, such that the monastery associated with it shone night and day.
He offered the monastery to the Blessed Buddha Kāśyapa and the rest of
the saṅgha of monks. He also offered his respectful service to the
monks, and provided for all their needs. After going for refuge and
maintaining the fundamental precepts all his life, he took birth among
the gods, where he obtained a celestial mansion of exquisite jewels.

“O monks, what do you think? The householder who at that time
built the reliquary stūpa enshrining the totally and completely awakened
Buddha Kāśyapa and his teachings, and the monastery associated with it,
and who hung jewels on the stūpa, is none other than the young god
Maṇiprabha. The acts of building the reliquary stūpa and the associated
monastery, complete in every respect, offering them to the Blessed Buddha
Kāśyapa and the rest of the saṅgha of monks, and hanging jewels on the
stūpa ripened into his taking birth among the gods.

The Story of Jasmine

The householder had no heir and desired a son, so he
supplicated the gods. He prayed to Paśupati, Varuṇa, Kubera, Śakra,
Brahmā, and the rest, and to the deities of the pleasure groves, the
forest deities, the deities of the crossroads, the deities of forks in
the road, the deities who receive strewn oblations, the deities of his
inherited tradition, and the deities who are in constant attendance of
righteous persons.

While it is often said that praying to deities can cause a boy
or girl to be born, this is not true. If children could be made just by
praying, every family would have them a thousand times over, like a
universal monarch. In fact, there are three circumstances that allow for
the birth of a child: a child is born when (1) lust arises in the
parents and they have intercourse, (2) the mother still has her
menstrual cycle and is approached by a gandharva, and (3) the
gandharva’s mind is either attached or angry.

Nevertheless, he remained intent on his prayers, and a great
being
took birth in his wife’s womb who was well renowned and had gained his
final birth, had the good fortune to soon be liberated due to gathering
the accumulations, had his sights set on nirvāṇa and had turned away
from saṃsāra, had no desire for the states of rebirth in cyclic
existence, and who had now assumed his final body.

A woman wise in nature possesses five extraordinary qualities.
She knows (1) whether a man is attracted to her, (2) the time of her
menstrual cycle, (3) that she has conceived, (4) from whom she has
conceived, and (5) whether the child is a boy or a girl, for if it is a
baby boy it will stay on the right side of the womb, and if it is a girl
it will stay on the left side of the womb.

When the householder’s wife conceived a child, she was
overjoyed and told her husband, “My Lord, I
have conceived a boy. He is staying on the right side of my womb, so
rejoice, for it is sure to be a boy!”

At this the householder too was very happy. He puffed out his
chest, put his right hand in the air, and expressed his joy, saying, “I
shall see the face of the son for whom I have prayed for so long! May
everything be right with my son, may nothing go wrong with him, and may
he carry on my work! As I care for him, may he care for me in return!
May he enjoy my inheritance! May my lineage endure for a long time! And
after our passing, when we die, may he give gifts, be they great or
small, and make merit! When he does, may he dedicate the merit thus:
‘Wherever these two are born, may this go to them!’

Now that he knew his wife was pregnant, he ensconced her on the
upper levels of their house in order to care for the baby. He provided
her with what she needed for winter in the winter, what she needed for
summer in the summer, with food that was not too bitter, too sour, too salty,
too sweet, too spicy, or too astringent as instructed by the healer, and
he served her food that was not bitter, sour, salty, sweet, spicy, or
astringent. He draped her body with garlands and strings of precious
stones, and he moved her from divan to divan and seat to seat like a
goddess through a joyous garden, never letting her descend to the
ground, never letting her hear an unpleasant word even for a moment.

These are their thoughts as they look out in wisdom: “Who is in
decline? Who will flourish? Who is destitute? Who is in a dreadful
state? Who is being harmed? Who is destitute, in a dreadful state, and
being harmed? Who is veering toward the lower realms? Who is descending
through the lower realms? Who has descended to the lower realms? Whom
shall I pull up from the lower realms, and establish in the resultant
state of heaven and liberation? Whom, mired in misdeeds, shall I lift up
by the hand? Whom, lacking the seven jewels of the noble ones, shall I
lead to command of the seven jewels of the noble ones? Whom, not having
produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to produce them? Whom, having
already produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to ripen their roots of
virtue?
Whom, having already ripened their roots of virtue, shall I slice open
with the blade of wisdom? For whom shall I cause this world, adorned
with a buddha’s presence, to be fruitful?”

The ocean, home of creatures fierce,

Could fail to send its tides on time.

But when the time has come to tame

Their offspring, buddhas never fail.

When Venerable Aniruddha regarded the world with his listener’s
eyes, he saw a being who was in his final birth taking birth in the home
of that householder, and thought, “Who will tame this being? Will he be
tamed by the Buddha, or will he be tamed instead by the listeners?” Then
he saw that it was he himself who would tame him, and since he was
already a spiritual friend of
the house, to strengthen the householder’s resolve, he went to the
householder’s home alone, without companions or attendants.

The householder saw that Venerable Aniruddha was alone, without
companions or attendants, and he asked, “Noble one, why have you come
here alone, without companions or attendants? Noble one, is there no one
at all who could attend you?”

“Where shall we find attendants, if one such as yourself does
not grant them to us?” replied Venerable Aniruddha.

“Noble one,” said the householder, “my wife has conceived, so
if we have a son, I shall offer him to you as an
attendant.” Venerable Aniruddha said, “The virtuous keep their
promises,” and having spoken thus, he departed.

After nine or ten months had passed, the householder’s wife
gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful, and from all over whose body the fragrance of jasmine
flowers arose, suffusing the entire house with the scent of jasmine. A
rain of jasmine flowers fell all about the house as the child entered
his mother’s womb and again at the time of his birth.

At the elaborate feast celebrating his birth, when they were
asked, “What name should we give this child?” they named him, saying,
“Since a rain of jasmine flowers fell all about the house as the child
entered his mother’s womb and again at the time of his birth, his name
will be Jasmine.” They reared young Jasmine on
milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids, and he flourished like a
lotus in a lake.

As he grew up he studied letters, tallying, and arithmetic; the
study of seals, lending, deposits, and commerce; and the examination of
cloth, jewels, gems, incense, medicine, elephants, horses, and arms and
armor. He became skilled in writing, skilled at reading, learned,
decisive, and industrious, a master of the eight types of
examination.

One day Venerable Aniruddha saw that the time had come for the
child to go forth. He went to the householder’s home and reminded him by
saying, “Householder, before this child was born you granted him to me
as an attendant. The virtuous keep their promises, do they not? Didn’t
you yourself make such a promise?”

“Yes, noble one,” the householder replied, “I did make just
such a promise.” After he said this, he took the child by his hands,

offered him to Venerable Aniruddha, and told him, “My child, before you
were born, I offered you to the noble one. Therefore go, and be an
attendant of the noble one.”

The child said, “This will be of benefit to me,” and with those
words he followed Venerable Aniruddha away. After Venerable Aniruddha
had instructed, encouraged, inspired, and delighted the householder with
a discourse on the Dharma, he rose from his seat and departed.

Having brought the child to the monastery, Venerable Aniruddha
led him to go forth as a novice, conferred on him full ordination, and
instructed him. Casting away all afflictive emotions through diligence,
practice, and effort, he manifested arhatship. As an arhat, free from
the attachments of the three realms, his mind regarded gold no
differently than filth, and the palms of his hands as like space itself.
He became cool like wet sandalwood. His insight crushed ignorance like
an eggshell. He achieved the insights, superknowledges, and
discriminations. He had no regard for worldly profit, passion, or
acclaim. He became an object of offering, veneration, and respectful
address by Indra, Upendra, and the other gods.

He also achieved miraculous abilities and great power, such
that he reached the concentrations, liberations, meditative
stabilizations, and attainments. He could enter and emerge from
equipoise quickly, passing from one meditation to the next in the time
it takes to thread a needle, and re-emerging just as quickly.

One day Venerable Jasmine thought, “The Blessed
One has dispelled so many kinds of suffering and anguish, brought me
many kinds of happiness and bliss, cleared away so many of my sins and
nonvirtues, and secured for me such virtues. How could I repay the
Blessed One’s kindness? Anytime a buddha arises in the world, it is only
to benefit beings, so surely I too should act for the benefit of
beings!”

Reflecting in this way, he wondered, “Whom might I tame?” He
looked out, and right away he saw his two parents. Upon seeing them he
thought, “But by what method can I tame them?” and he realized he could
tame them with a display of miracles. So he disappeared from the garden
of Prince Jeta and reappeared at his parents’ house, floating in midair
before them. He made a miraculous display of fire and light, rain and
lightning, then descended and took a seat.

He taught his parents the Dharma particularly suited to them.
Hearing it, the householders and their retinue destroyed with the
thunderbolt of wisdom the twenty high peaks of the mountain of views
concerning the transitory collection, and manifested the resultant state
of stream entry right where they sat. He led them to go for refuge and
maintain the fundamental precepts. Having seen the truths, they gave
gifts and made merit.

The monks inquired of the Blessed One, “Lord, what action did
Venerable Jasmine take that ripened into his birth into a
family of great means, prosperity, and wealth; that he was well
proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful; that at his birth, the
scent of jasmine flowers arose from all over his body; that as he
entered the womb, a rain of jasmine flowers fell all about the house;
and that he pleased the Blessed One, did not displease him, went forth
in the doctrine of the Blessed One, cast away all afflictive emotions,
and manifested arhatship? And his parents—what action did they
take that, entrusting themselves to him completely, they pleased the
Blessed One, and did not displease him?”

“It came about by the power of their prayers,” replied the
Blessed One.

“Lord, where did they make these prayers?”

“Monks,” the Blessed One explained, “in times past, in this
fortunate eon, when people lived as long as twenty thousand years and
the tathāgata, the arhat, the totally and completely awakened buddha
possessed of insight and perfect conduct, the sugata, the knower of the
world, the tamer of persons, the charioteer, the unsurpassed one, the
teacher of humans and gods, the blessed buddha known as Kāśyapa was in
the world, there lived in Vārāṇasī a certain householder, prosperous and
wealthy, a person of vast and magnificent means, endowed with the wealth
of Vaiśravaṇa—with wealth to rival Vaiśravaṇa’s.

“When the time came for him to marry he took a wife, and as
they enjoyed themselves and coupled, one day his wife conceived. After
nine or ten months had passed, she gave birth to a child who was well
proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful.

“As he grew up he found faith in the doctrine of the totally
and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa. He asked for his parents’
permission and went forth. After going forth, he studied the Tripiṭaka
and became a proponent of the Dharma with all the eloquence of his
wisdom and freedom. He led his parents to live a life of perfect faith,
and to go for refuge and maintain the fundamental precepts, and he
inspired them to give gifts and to share what they had.

“One day he thought, ‘I have completed whatever educational
duties were before me. Now let me serve the saṅgha!’ With this thought
he called upon his parents, the brahmins, and others of faith, and they
offered the saṅgha cooked rice, soup, drink, porridge, and
provisions such as clothing, food, bedding, seats, and medicines for the
sick, and they offered them residences as well.

“He anointed all the stūpas containing hair and nail relics
with an unguent of sesame oil and fragrant ointments; offered rows of
butter lamps, garlands of jasmine flowers, and parasols; and scattered
loose jasmine petals over them.

“Then he prayed, ‘By this root of virtue, wherever I am born,
may it be into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth. May I be
well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. From all over my
body may the fragrance of jasmine flowers arise. As I enter my mother’s
womb, may a rain of jasmine flowers also fall all about the house. May I
please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by the
totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next blessed
buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone may I cast away all afflictive
emotions and manifest arhatship.

“ ‘May I have a sharp intellect. May I attain the
concentrations, liberations, meditative stabilization, and
attainments. May I enter and emerge from equipoise quickly, passing from
one meditation to the next in the time it takes to thread a needle, and
re-emerging just as quickly.’

As they saw him sitting there praying his parents asked,
‘Child, what prayers are you making?’

“ ‘I prayed like this…’ he told them, and related it all in
detail.

His parents said, ‘May you alone again become our son. May the
two of us again become your parents. Entrusting ourselves to you
completely, may we please and not displease the Blessed Buddha.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who was that monk then
is none other than Jasmine now. At that time he went forth
in the doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa
and rendered service in accord with the Dharma. He served the Buddha,
Dharma, and Saṅgha with respect, and the act of praying ripened such
that wherever he was born it was into a family of great means,
prosperity, and wealth; he was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful; from all over his body the fragrance of jasmine flowers
arose; and a rain of flowers fell all about the house as he entered his
mother’s womb, and again at the time of his birth.

“So it is, monks, now that I myself have become the very equal
of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa—equal in strength,
equal in deeds, and equal in skillful means—that he has pleased me, not
displeased me, gone forth in my very doctrine, cast away all afflictive
emotions, and manifested arhatship; that his intellect became sharp;
that that he reached the concentrations, liberations, meditative
stabilizations, and attainments; and that he can enter and emerge from
equipoise quickly, passing from one meditation to the next in the time
it takes to thread a needle, and re-emerging just as quickly.

“The ones who were his parents then are none other than his
parents now. At that time they prayed, ‘Entrusting ourselves to you
completely, may we please and not displease the king of the Śākyas,’ and
now, entrusting themselves to him completely, they have pleased me, and
not displeased me.”

Give It to Me!

One morning when the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī he donned his
lower garment and Dharma robes, and, carrying his alms bowl, went for
alms. A
little brahmin child stood not far from the Blessed One and watched as a
householder offered a laḍḍū treat of a hundred flavors, big enough to fill his
stomach.

When the brahmin child saw the laḍḍū treat, great craving arose
in him for it, and he approached the Blessed One and said, “Hey Gautama,
gimme that laḍḍū!”

The Blessed One answered the brahmin child, “Child, if you say,
‘I don’t need that laḍḍū treat,’ I’ll hand it over.”

So he said to Gautama, “Hey Gautama, I don’t need that laḍḍū
treat,” and the Blessed One handed the laḍḍū treat to him.

At that time, not far from the Blessed One was sitting the
householder Anāthapiṇḍada, who thought, “It won’t be possible for the
Blessed One to take alms again today. There’s nowhere else, no other
opportunity.”

Realizing that there was no other place and no other
opportunity for the Blessed One to take alms, he pulled the brahmin
child aside and said, “Little brahmin, give that laḍḍū treat back to the
Blessed One and I’ll give you five hundred gold coins.”

“As you wish, householder,” the brahmin child said, and he put
the laḍḍū treat back into the Blessed One’s alms bowl. The Blessed One
finished his alms round and returned to the monastery. Meanwhile, the
householder Anāthapiṇḍada brought the brahmin child home, gave him
something to eat, and handed him the five hundred gold coins.

The monks inquired of the Blessed One, “Lord, tell us why the
Blessed One would not give the brahmin child the laḍḍū treat when he
begged the Blessed One for it, but the Blessed One gave the laḍḍū treat
to him after the child said, ‘Hey Gautama, I don’t need that laḍḍū
treat,’
.”

“Monks,” explained the Blessed One, “for many thousands of
lifetimes, that brahmin child frequently indulged, became addicted, and
ended up wanting more. Thus I’ve lured him with a laḍḍū treat to turn
him away from his preoccupation with acquiring things; that will be the
sole cause of his going forth and giving up his aggregates.”

“Lord, when will this brahmin child give up his aggregates?”

“Monks, in the future a totally and completely awakened Buddha
named Mountain, who will far surpass the listeners and
solitary buddhas, will emerge in the world. It is in his doctrine alone
that, having obtained a human birth, he will go forth, cast away the
afflictive emotions, and manifest arhatship.”

The Story of She Who Gathers

When the Blessed One was in Rājagṛha, there was a king named
Padmagarbha who reigned in Takṣaśīla. His kingdom was prosperous,
flourishing, happy, and well populated. The harvest was good. Quarreling
and arguments had ceased, there was no fighting or infighting, and there
were no robbers, thieves, illness, or famine. Rice, sugarcane, cattle,
and buffalo were plentiful. His was a reign in accord with the Dharma,
and he treated the kingdom like a beloved only child.

As he and the queen enjoyed themselves and coupled, the queen
conceived, and her mind became filled with thoughts like, “If only I
could debate the scriptural exegetes!” and other fervent wishes of that
sort. When the king heard of this, he took her to the soothsayers.

“Deva,” the soothsayers said, “she has such fervent wishes in
her mind because the being in her womb will understand all the treatises
and defeat all scriptural exegetes.”

“Wise ones, what will happen if we can’t get this wish out of
her mind?” asked the king.

“The heir born to you will have missing limbs,” the soothsayers
replied.

The king thought, “I can’t bear for my child to be born with
missing limbs!” So he sat the queen behind a curtain, assembled all the
scriptural exegetes, and, after appointing impartial observers, had them
debate the scriptures with her.

Once she had defeated all of the scriptural exegetes, her
fervent desire subsided. After nine or ten months had passed, she gave
birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and
beautiful. At the elaborate feast celebrating her birth they asked,
“What name should we give this child?” And they named her, saying,
“Since her mother defeated all the other scriptural exegetes before a
great gathering of people, the child’s name will be She Who
Gathers.”

Young She Who Gathers was raised by eight nurses—two nurses to
hold her in their laps, two wet nurses, two nurses to bathe her, and two
nurses to play with her. They raised her with a protection cord, and the
eye of a peacock feather from the hand of Nārāyaṇa. They reared her on
milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk solids, and she flourished like a
lotus in a lake.

As she grew up, she sat behind a curtain in the royal palace
and studied letters on her own. She perfected her reading skills,
studied all the treatises on her own, and defeated all the scriptural
exegetes in Takṣaśīla from behind the curtain.

One day the king asked the young woman, “To whom should I give
you in marriage?”

“Award me to any with the skill to defeat me in scriptural
debate,” the young woman replied.

When the king heard this he thought, “She has such an ability
to speak. I must not give her to one who is merely good looking, or of
high caste, or great influence, but to one who can defeat her in debate,
and none other.” After that, word spread quickly. As soon as they heard,
all the scriptural exegetes from neighboring lands began to arrive, and
the young woman defeated them all.

In the south there lived a scriptural exegete named Riu who
feared no text. He was well educated and knowledgeable, well
proportioned, pleasing to the eye, beautiful, and had an excellent
complexion. He heard that in Takṣaśīla, King Padmagarbha’s daughter had
defeated all the scriptural exegetes, and he heard as well about the
promise her father had made to them.

Astounded to hear all this, he thought, “Let me go there and
see for myself.” So with a retinue of five hundred he made his way
through the villages, towns, forest settlements, and cities small and
large, defeating all the other scriptural exegetes as he went, until
eventually he arrived in Takṣaśīla.

There he approached King Padmagarbha and said, “I heard that
you, Deva, have a daughter who has defeated all the scriptural exegetes.
As I have studied treatises under great masters myself, I too would like
to converse with her.”

“As you wish,” the king replied.

The king called together the scriptural exegetes, placed each
of their philosophical texts before them, and the young woman took her
place behind the curtain. But as soon as the young woman saw the
scriptural exegete Riu—who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
beautiful, and excellently complected—an arrow of lust shot through her,
and she thought, “I won’t find a spouse like this anywhere. He alone
should be my spouse. I want no one else,” and she
allowed him to defeat her.

Thereupon the king thought, “I promised that I would give my
daughter to a capable debater—not to one who is merely good looking, of
high caste, or of great influence, but to one who can defeat her in
debate, and none other. This man is not only capable in debate, but he
is also well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful. I shall
not find one better than him, nor will I find a more excellent
scriptural exegete. I will not give her to anyone but him!” With this
thought, he undertook all that custom required of him. The king gave the
young woman to the man and appointed him to a great lordship.

She Who Gathers and Riu enjoyed themselves and coupled. One day
the young woman conceived, and after nine or ten months had passed, she
gave birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful. At the elaborate feast celebrating his birth they asked,
“What name should we give this child?” And they named him, saying,
“Since the name of his clan is Kātyāyana, and he is the child of She Who
Gathers, his name will be Kātyāyana Who Gathers.”

They reared young Kātyāyana on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and
milk solids, and he flourished like a lotus in a lake. As he grew up he
studied letters, brahminical customs and conduct, the syllables oṃ and bho, ritual purity,
ritual actions, the collection of ashes,
holding the ritual vase, the Ṛg Veda,
the Yajur Veda, the Sāma Veda, the Atharva Veda, how to perform sacrificial rites, how to lead
others in performing sacrificial rites, how to give and receive
offerings, recitation, and recitation instruction.

Trained in these procedures, he became a master of the six
types of brahminical activities, and in time he mastered the eighteen
sciences. At age sixteen he understood all the treatises and defeated
all the scriptural exegetes. He started to feel arrogant and thought
that in all Jambudvīpa not even one person was his equal, much less his
superior, and this made him despise everyone.

One day a lay vow holder said to him, “Child, don’t be haughty,
arrogantly thinking that not even one person is your equal, much less
your superior. Child, there was a young Śākya born in Magadha, about
whom the brahmin soothsayers and augurs made this prediction:

“ ‘If he remains here at home, he will become a universal
monarch, but if he shaves his head and face and dons the colorful
religious robes, and if he goes forth from home to live as a mendicant
with nothing short of perfect faith, he will be renowned throughout the
world as a tathāgata, an arhat, a totally and completely awakened
buddha.’

“Compared to the one who, as prophesied, shaved his head and
face, donned the colorful religious robes, and with nothing short of
perfect faith went forth from home to live as a mendicant—the Buddha,
who has fully and completely awakened unto unexcelled, total, and
complete enlightenment—your form and wisdom are not even a thousandth,
not even a hundred thousandth, not even a millionth or a billionth, not
even an incalculably small fraction of his.”

When the young man heard the name Buddha, a sound unlike any he
had heard before, it gave him goosebumps, and he was eager to see him.
So he asked for his parents’ permission, saying, “Mother, Father, I ask
for your kind permission to travel to Magadha and practice the holy life
in the presence of the Blessed One.”

His parents thought, “We will not be able to stop him,” and
knowing this to be the case, they said, “Join us. We both want to give
up our householder duties and go with you to practice the holy life in
the presence of the Blessed One.” Having said this, they gave up their
householder duties, gave gifts, made merit, and set out for Magadha.

When they finally arrived in Rājagṛha and went to see the
Blessed One, the young man and his parents saw him from a distance. His
body, graced and resplendent with the thirty-two signs of a great
person, looked like it was on fire, like flames stoked with ghee, like a
lamp set in a golden vessel, and like a pillar adorned with all manner
of jewels. He was immaculate, clear-minded, and pure of heart.

The sight of the Blessed One filled them with supreme joy, for
beings who have gathered the roots of virtue to see a buddha for the
first time experience such rapture as is not to be had even by those who
practice calm abiding meditation for twelve
years. Seeing the Blessed Buddha in this way, they were filled with
supreme joy, and they approached the Blessed One, touched their heads to
his feet, and sat before him to listen to the Dharma.

The Blessed One directly apprehended their thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperaments, and natures, and taught them the Dharma
accordingly. Hearing it, they destroyed with the thunderbolt of wisdom
the twenty high peaks of the mountain of views concerning the transitory
collection, and manifested the resultant state of stream entry right
where they sat.

Having seen the truths, they rose from their seats, drew down
the right shoulder of their upper garments, bowed toward the Blessed One
with palms pressed together, and made this request: “Lord, if permitted
we wish to go forth in the Dharma and Vinaya so well spoken, complete
our novitiates, and achieve full ordination. In the presence of the
Blessed One, we too wish to practice the holy
life.”

The Blessed One led the father and son to go forth by saying
“Come, monks!” and, conferring on them full ordination, instructed them.
Casting away all afflictive emotions through diligence, practice, and
effort, they manifested arhatship. As arhats, free from the attachments
of the three realms, their minds regarded gold no differently than
filth, and the palms of their hands as like space itself. They became
cool like wet sandalwood. Their insight crushed ignorance like an
eggshell. They achieved the insights, superknowledges, and
discriminations. They had no regard for worldly profit, passion, or
acclaim. They became objects of offering, veneration, and respectful
address by Indra, Upendra, and the other gods.

After that the Blessed One called Mahāprajāpatī Gautamī. She
led She Who Gathers to go forth as a novice, conferred on her full
ordination and instructed her. Casting away all afflictive emotions
through diligence, practice, and effort, she manifested arhatship.

The monks asked the Blessed One, “Lord, what action did
Kātyāyana Who Gathers take that ripened into his birth into a family of
great means, prosperity, and wealth; that he was well proportioned,
pleasing to the eye, and beautiful; that he understood all the
treatises, and defeated all the other scriptural exegetes; that he
pleased the Blessed One and did not displease him; that he went forth in
the doctrine of the Blessed One, cast away the afflictive emotions, and
manifested arhatship; that his parents also became superior scriptural
exegetes; and that, entrusting themselves to him, they pleased the
Blessed One and did not displease him, went forth in the doctrine of the
Blessed One, cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifested
arhatship?”

“It came about by the power of their prayers,” replied the
Blessed One.

“Lord, where did they make these prayers?”

“When the time came for him to marry he took a wife. One day
his wife conceived, and after nine or ten months had passed, she gave
birth to a child who was well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and
beautiful. They reared him on milk, yogurt, butter, ghee, and milk
solids, and he flourished like a lotus in a lake.

“When he grew up he found faith in the doctrine of the totally
and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa and asked for his parents’
permission, saying ‘Mother, Father, I ask for your kind permission to go
forth in the doctrine of the Blessed One.’

“His parents replied, ‘Son, you are the only child we
have—beloved, delightful, dear, and agreeable—so there is no way we can
allow this.’ But since they had no way to stop him, his parents
consented, and he went forth as a novice in the teaching of the totally
and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, and then received full
ordination.

“He studied the Tripiṭaka and became a proponent of the Dharma
with all the eloquence of his wisdom and freedom. He acquired provisions
of clothing, food, bedding, a seat, and medicines for the sick. He led
his parents to live a life of perfect faith, as well as to go for refuge
and
maintain the fundamental precepts, and he inspired them to give gifts
and to share what they had.

“One day he thought, ‘I have completed whatever duties were
before me in terms of my education. Now I will serve the saṅgha in
accord with the Dharma!’ With this thought he called together his
parents and patrons and other donors, and after offering food to the
Blessed Kāśyapa and the rest of the saṅgha of monks, he venerated a
stūpa containing hair and nail relics, and prayed, ‘By this root of
virtue, wherever I am born, may it be into a family of great means,
prosperity, and wealth. May I be well proportioned, pleasing to the eye,
and beautiful.’

“Since the preceptor who had led him to go forth had himself
understood all the treatises at sixteen years of age and defeated all
the other scriptural exegetes, and since both his parents had likewise
been supreme scriptural exegetes and defeated all the other scriptural
exegetes, he also prayed, ‘Just as my preceptor understood all the
treatises at sixteen years of age and defeated all the other scriptural
exegetes, and just as both my parents were likewise supreme scriptural
exegetes and defeated all the other scriptural exegetes, may I too
understand all the treatises at sixteen years of age and defeat all the
other scriptural exegetes, and may both my parents likewise become
supreme scriptural exegetes.

“ ‘May I please and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin
prophesied by the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be
the next blessed buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone may I cast
away all afflictive emotions, and manifest arhatship.’

“When his parents saw him sitting there praying, they asked,
‘Child,
what prayers are you making?’ and he told them what kind of prayers he
was making, relating all in detail.

“His parents said, ‘May you alone be our son. May the two of us
be your parents. Entrusting ourselves to you completely, may we please
and not displease the Blessed Buddha. May we go forth in his doctrine,
cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifest arhatship.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who went forth in the
doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa then is
none other than Kātyāyana Who Gathers. Those who were his parents then
are none other than his parents now. The act of giving gifts, making
merit, and praying at that time ripened such that wherever he was born,
it was into a family of great means, prosperity, and wealth; that he was
well proportioned, pleasing to the eye, and beautiful; and that he
understood all the treatises and defeated all the other scriptural
exegetes.

“At that time his parents prayed, ‘As your parents, may the two
of us become supreme scriptural exegetes. Entrusting ourselves to you,
may we please and not displease the Blessed Buddha,’ and so it is that
those two have now become supreme scriptural exegetes, and entrusting
themselves to him, they have pleased me and not displeased me, gone
forth in my very doctrine, cast away all afflictive emotions, and
manifested arhatship.”

The Tailor

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī, there lived a certain
householder. One day the householder’s wife conceived, and after nine or
ten months had passed, she gave birth to a child who was paraplegic and
unable to walk. At the elaborate feast celebrating his birth they asked,
“What name should we give this child?” And they named him, saying,
“Since the child is one who moves about by crawling, his name will be
Paṅgu.”

They reared young Paṅgu on milk, yogurt, butter,
ghee, and milk solids, and when he had grown, his father thought, “What
kind of work could my child perform while seated? Let me train him as a
craftsman so he can earn his livelihood.” Then he thought, “Aha! My son
should train as a tailor. Then he can earn his livelihood.” With this in
mind he had his child learn tailoring, and indeed the young man became a
great master of the trade.

Meanwhile, another householder borrowed clothing and jewelry
from another house for his wife to wear to a festival. When he brought
them home, his wife put them on, got herself ready for the festival, and
departed. Out of carelessness, she tore the fabric at its hem. She was
afraid of her husband, so she didn’t let anyone see what she had done.
By the time she returned home from the festival her husband had gone to
another village and while he was gone, she brought the tailor to their
house, latched the door so that no one would see him, and had him mend
the torn hem.

While the tailor was still in the house, her husband came home
and began to call out and knock on the door. His wife recognized his
voice and was scared stiff—not only because she had brought the tailor
inside their house, but also on account of the torn hem. Terrified, she
explained everything to the tailor, stuck him in a basket, sealed it,
and left him there. She opened the door and the householder entered. She
fawned over him, brought him things, and then lay down with him.

As they lay there, thieves broke into the house. Upon entering
the upper level of the house, the first thing they picked up was the
basket, and they thought, “This basket is sealed so tightly and is so
heavy—it must be full of precious jewels! This will last us for seven
generations. This alone will suffice; we won’t need anything else.”

With this thought, they took only the basket and carried it off
deep into the forest. As they were traveling, the moon rose and the man
sitting inside the basket started to urinate. The urine seeped through
the basket and began to leak out. The thieves thought, “As the moon
rises, water drips from within—there must be a magic water crystal
inside! We’re sure of it!” They were ecstatic.

Supporting the basket with the last of their strength, they
arrived at their destination deep in the forest, where the leader of the
bandits and others among them asked, “What have you brought here in that
basket?”

“Be glad, boss,” they replied, “for today we bring an end to
our poverty! Be glad, for today we have come upon a basket full of
jewels!” The leader and the rest of the bandits likewise grew ecstatic
and said, “Open the basket—let’s see what kinds of jewels are in there!”
Unlatching the lid of the basket, they opened it and looked inside.

There sat Paṅgu in the basket, just as he had been
left. At the sight of him they thought, “We walked and walked, lugging
this basket—this
paṅgu
made the whole night miserable.”
They were anguished. Those who had stayed behind broke into hysterics,
laughing at the bandits who had traveled through the night and saying,
“Oh,
such misery! How miserable!”

At about this time the householder’s wife awoke. When she got
up, she walked through the house and saw that it had been broken into
and the basket stolen. But the sight also gladdened her, and she spoke
in verse, saying,

“My house was broken into, my basket is gone,

I’m half delighted, half morose.

The thieves who bore it off into the trees

Are surely laughing, even as they weep.”

The thieves who had stolen the basket grumbled angrily, saying,
“So what if the paraplegic made us unhappy? Since we have to make a
sacrifice to the yakṣa at any rate, we’ll just have to sacrifice him!”
They spread a circle of cow dung before the yakṣa and set forth pots
brimming with burning incense, flowers, and ritual offerings. Then they
took up long, sharp knives, and set the man before the yakṣa to begin
the ritual.

The tailor realized that he was about to be sacrificed to a
yakṣa. Terrified at the thought, he wondered, “To whom could I go for
refuge, other than the Blessed One? Who else could save my precious
life?” Thinking this, he made a silent prayer to the Blessed One: “Lord,
Blessed One, if there is nothing past, present, or future that you do
not see, know, or directly perceive, then heed me now, Blessed One, for
I am in distress, desolate, and bereft. Protect me! Please save my
precious life!”

These are their thoughts as they look out in wisdom: “Who is in
decline? Who will flourish? Who is destitute? Who is in a dreadful
state? Who is being harmed? Who is destitute, in a dreadful state, and
being harmed? Who is veering toward the lower realms? Who is descending
through the lower realms? Who has descended to the lower realms? Whom
shall I pull up from the lower realms, and establish in the resultant
state of heaven and liberation? Whom, mired in misdeeds, shall I lift up
by the hand? Whom, lacking the seven jewels of the noble ones, shall I
lead to command of the seven jewels of the noble ones? Whom, not having
produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to produce them? Whom, having
already produced roots of virtue, shall I lead to ripen their roots of
virtue? Whom, having already ripened their roots of virtue, shall I
slice open with the blade of wisdom? For whom shall I cause this world,
adorned with a buddha’s presence, to be fruitful?”

The ocean, home of creatures fierce,

Could fail to send its tides on time.

But when the time has come to tame

Their offspring, buddhas never fail.

When the Blessed One looked, he directly apprehended that the
time had come to tame the paraplegic and the five hundred bandits, so he
appeared there in divine dress in the form of the very deity they were
propitiating.

The five hundred bandits marveled, “Our god has appeared to us
in bodily form!” Their hair stood on end, and with their palms pressed
together they hunkered down around him, saying, “Blessed One, what
advice can you grant us?”

The Blessed One replied, “I do not require human sacrifice,
therefore give it up. If you wish for Dharma, give up your sacrifices
and supplications, gather round, and I shall teach you the Dharma.”

“We will do as you wish,” they said, and they and abandoned
their sacrifice, touched their heads to the Blessed One’s feet, and sat
before him to listen to the Dharma.

The Blessed One directly apprehended the thoughts, habitual
tendencies, temperament, and nature of Paṅgu and the
bandits, and taught them the Dharma accordingly. Hearing it, the five
hundred bandits destroyed with the thunderbolt of wisdom the twenty high
peaks of the mountain of views concerning the transitory collection, and
manifested the resultant state of stream entry right where they sat.
Paṅgu also manifested the resultant state of
non-return.

Once they had seen the truths, the Blessed One made his divine
dress disappear, and sat before them in his own natural body. They
beheld the Blessed One and were ecstatic. Full of joy, they rose from
their seats, drew down the right shoulder of their upper garments, bowed
toward the Blessed One with palms pressed together, and made this
request: “Lord, if permitted we wish to go forth in the Dharma and
Vinaya so well spoken, complete our novitiates, and achieve full
ordination. In the presence of the Blessed One, we too wish to practice
the holy life.”

The Blessed One replied to the bandits, saying, “Come, join me,
monks! Practice the holy life.” As soon as the Blessed One had finished
speaking there they stood, alms bowl and water pitcher in hand, with a
week’s worth of hair and beard, and with the deportment of a monk who
had been ordained for one hundred years. As it is stated,

Garbed in robes, with shaven heads,

And senses stilled by Buddha’s will—

From the very moment the One Thus Gone

Spoke to them, saying, “Come, join me.”

Then the Blessed One instructed them, and casting away all
afflictive emotions through diligence, practice, and effort, they
manifested arhatship. As arhats, free from the attachments
of the three realms, their minds regarded gold no differently than
filth, and the palms of their hands as like space itself. They became
cool like wet sandalwood. Their insight crushed ignorance like an
eggshell. They achieved the insights, superknowledges, and
discriminations. They had no regard for worldly profit, passion, or
acclaim. They became objects of offering, veneration, and respectful
address by Indra, Upendra, and the other gods.

Paṅgu thought, “If my body weren’t like this, I too would go forth in the doctrine of
the Blessed One, in order to ford the floodwaters and escape my
fetters with diligence, practice, and effort.” No sooner had he thought
this than every facet of his body was completely whole and
manifest, and he was
especially filled with joy toward the Blessed One.

Joyfully, he rose from his seat, drew down the right shoulder
of his upper garment, and made this request of the Blessed One: “Lord,
if permitted I wish to go forth in the Dharma and Vinaya so well spoken,
complete my novitiate, and achieve full ordination. In the presence of
the Blessed One, I too wish to practice the holy life.”

The Blessed One led him to go forth as a novice by saying,
“Come, monk! Practice the holy life,” then conferred on him full
ordination and instructed him. Casting away all afflictive emotions
through diligence, practice, and effort, he manifested arhatship.

The monks asked the Blessed One, “Lord, what action did
Paṅgu take that ripened into his becoming paraplegic?
What action did he take that he pleased the Blessed One, did not
displease him, went forth in the doctrine of the Blessed One, cast away
all afflictive emotions, and manifested arhatship?”

“Monks,” the Blessed One explained, “such are the actions
that he committed and accumulated:

“Monks, in times past, in this fortunate eon, when people lived
as long as twenty thousand years, and the totally and completely
awakened Buddha endowed with perfect knowledge and perfect conduct, the
sugata, the knower of the world, the tamer of persons, the charioteer,
the unsurpassed one, the teacher of humans and gods, the blessed buddha
known as Kāśyapa was in the world, there lived a certain two
householders in Vārāṇasī who were brothers.

“One of them, upon hearing the Dharma from the totally and
completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa, manifested the resultant state of
non-return, gave up his unwholesome ways, and devoted himself
single-mindedly to wholesome activities.

“His younger brother worked in the fields, and thought, ‘I have
to deal with cold in winter and heat all
summer, while he’s snug at home, enjoying his bliss.’ Irate, he spoke
harshly to the non-returner: ‘While I have to deal with cold in winter
and heat all summer and handle all the work,
you spend your time at home like some paraplegic! Don’t you want to do
anything at all?’

“Then the non-returner thought, ‘My little brother is speaking
so harshly to me. Let me be of help to him so that it doesn’t ruin him
for good.’ With this thought, he made a display of miracles before him
and said, ‘You must confess the mistake you’ve made by speaking harshly
to me. Otherwise you are certain to roam in saṃsāra and meet with great
suffering.’

“As soon as he heard this, the younger brother was seized with
regret. He bowed down at his brother’s feet, asked his forgiveness, and
said, ‘I will give up living at home to go forth in the doctrine of the
totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa.’

“The non-returner told him, ‘Give up household affairs, and
both of us will go forth.’

“ ‘Let’s do that,’ the brother replied. They gave up their
household affairs and both of them went forth in the
doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa.

“After the non-returner went forth, he cast away all afflictive
emotions and manifested arhatship. The other brother went forth, and
after practicing pure conduct all his life, at the time of his death, he
prayed, ‘May I not meet with the results of the act of speaking harshly
to such a pure being. Should it happen that the results of that action
ripen to me, may I then feel a sense of renunciation, may that
misfortune vanish, and may I be fortunate instead. While I may not have
attained any great virtues, still I have gone forth and practiced pure
conduct all my life. Therefore, may I please and not displease Uttara,
the young brahmin prophesied by the totally and completely awakened
Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next blessed buddha. Going forth in his
doctrine alone may I cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifest
arhatship.’

“O monks, what do you think? The one who went forth in the
doctrine of the totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa and
became a monk then is none other than Paṅgu. At that time
he spoke harshly to his elder brother, and wherever he was born, he was
paraplegic. He felt regret, went forth, and after practicing the conduct
leading to liberation all his life, at the time of his death prayed,
‘May I not meet with the results of the act of speaking harshly to such
a pure being. Should that action ripen to me, then as soon as I feel a
sense of renunciation, may that misfortune immediately vanish and may I
be fortunate instead.’

“Now he has felt a sense of renunciation, and immediately all
his limbs have become complete. At that time he prayed, ‘May I please
and not displease Uttara, the young brahmin prophesied by the
totally and completely awakened Buddha Kāśyapa to be the next blessed
buddha. Going forth in his doctrine alone may I cast away all afflictive
emotions, and manifest arhatship.’

The monks requested the Blessed One, “Lord, tell us why, after
the five hundred bandits met the paraplegic tailor, they went forth,
cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifested arhatship.”

“Not only now, monks” the Blessed One explained, “but in times
past as well, and in the same way, these five hundred bandits met this
selfsame paraplegic tailor, went forth, and generated the four
meditative states and the five superknowledges. Listen well!

“Monks, in times past there were five hundred bandits who lived
deep in the forest. They ransacked the mountain villages, carrying off
much of their food and wealth. There was also a man who lived and
dwelled deep in that forest, and the bandits captured him to sacrifice
him to their yakṣa. There in the forest they spread a circle of cow dung
before the yakṣa, and set forth offering pots and the man himself. Then
they took up long, sharp knives and seated themselves before the yakṣa
to begin the ritual.

“Thereupon the man thought, ‘After they kill me, they are going
to offer me as a sacrifice to the yakṣa.’ Terrified at the thought, he
wondered, ‘To whom can I go for refuge? Who can save my precious
life?’

“Not far from there, on the mountain in an ascetic hermitage

there lived a certain sage. At that very moment the man thought of the
sage, and with a faithful mind began praying to him: ‘Blessed One, if
there is nothing past, present, or future that you do not see, know, or
directly perceive, then heed me now, Blessed One, for I am in distress,
desolate, and bereft. Protect me! Please save my precious life! Please,
lift this burden from me!’ A god who was fond of the sage heard those
thoughts and alerted him. As soon as he heard, the sage disappeared from
his hermitage and arrived before the bandits.

“When they saw the sage, the bandits were overcome with joy.
Full of joy they said, ‘Sage, what advice can you grant us?’

“ ‘Release the man and sit before me, and I shall teach you the
Dharma,’ said the sage.

“ ‘We will do as the sage wishes,’ the bandits replied, and
they released the man, bowed down at the sage’s feet, and sat before him
to listen to the Dharma. After the sage taught the Dharma to them, both
the man and the five hundred bandits went forth in his very presence,
and generated the four meditative states and the five
superknowledges.

“O monks, what do you think? I myself was that sage then, and
lived the life of a bodhisattva. The one who was that man then is this
paraplegic tailor now. Those who were those five hundred bandits then
are none other than these five hundred bandits. At that time, because of
that man, they went forth and generated the four meditative states and
the five superknowledges, and now too, because of this paraplegic tailor
they have gone forth, cast away all afflictive emotions, and manifested
arhatship.”

This concludes Part One of “The Hundred Deeds.”

Part Two

1. The Chariot: Four Stories

2. The Story of Earnest

3. The Story of Gopā

4. The Story of Keśinī

5. The Story of Lotus Color

6. The Butcher

7. The Story of Golden Color

8. The Cowherds

9. A Band of Friends

10. The Story of Abhaya

11. The Story of Lake of Jewels

12. The Story of Wealth’s Delight

13. The Bear: Two Stories

14. The Story of Small Person with a Curving Spine

15. The Rākṣasa

The Chariot: Four Stories

The First “Chariot” Story

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī, there lived a certain
brahmin who wished to perform a ritual offering, so he climbed onto
his chariot and rode into Śrāvastī. That morning, when the Blessed
One donned his lower garment and Dharma robes, and, carrying his
alms bowl, went for alms in Śrāvastī, the brahmin was filled with
joy, circumambulated the Blessed One, and departed. At that moment,
the Blessed One smiled.

Now it is the nature of the blessed buddhas’ smiles that
when they smile, colorful beams of blue, yellow, red, and white
light radiate from their mouths, with some traveling up and others
traveling down.

Those that travel down go to the beings in the Reviving
Hell, the Black Thread Hell,
the Crushing Hell, the Shrieking Hell, the Screaming Hell, the Hot
Hell, the Hell of Extreme Heat, the Hell of Ceaseless Agony, the
Blistering Hell, the Bursting Blister Hell, the Hell of Chattering
Teeth, the Hell of Lamentation, the Cold Whimpering Hell, the
Splitting Open Like a Blue Lotus Hell, the Splitting Open Like a
Lotus Hell, and the Splitting Open Like a Great Lotus Hell, and as
they descend they cool the beings in the hot
hells, and warm the beings in the cold hells.

In this way they soothe the particular injuries of those
beings, who wonder, “Have we died and been reborn somewhere other
than this place?” Then, to engender faith in them, the blessed ones
radiate an emanation, and when the beings see it, they think, “Alas,
it is neither that we have died and left this place, nor that we
have been born elsewhere. Rather it is because of the unprecedented
appearance of this emanation that our particular injuries have been
soothed.” They feel real joy toward the
emanation, exhausting the deeds that brought them to experience the
hells. Now, as fit vessels of the truths, they take rebirth among
the gods and humans.

The rays of light that travel up go to the following gods:
those of the Abodes of the Four Great Kings, the Heaven of the
Thirty-Three, the Strifeless Heaven, Tuṣita Heaven, the Delighting
in Creation Heaven, the Heaven of the Masters of Others’ Creations,
and the Heaven of Brahmā’s Assembly; those of the realms called
Brahmin Priests, Great Brahmā, Limited Splendor, Immeasurable
Splendor, Radiant Heaven, Lesser Virtue, Immeasurable Virtue,
Extensive Virtue, and the Cloudless Heaven; and those of the realms
called Increasing Merit, Great Result, None Greater,
Sorrowless, Sublime Vision, Great Vision, and Supreme.
There they sound a cry of impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and
selflessness, and they echo the following two verses:

Cultivate renunciation,

Practice the Buddha’s teaching—

Trample the lord of death’s army

Like an elephant in a house of reeds!

Those who mind their way along the path

Of this Dharma and Vinaya

Will abandon the round of rebirth

And put an end to suffering.

Then the rays of light circle through the trichiliocosm and
come back to the blessed ones. Should the blessed one wish to make a
revelation about past deeds, they will disappear into the blessed
one’s back. Should he wish to foretell the future, they will
disappear into the chest. Should he wish to prophesy about a hell
birth, they will disappear into the soles of the feet. Should he
wish to prophesy about an animal birth, they will disappear into the
heels. Should he wish to prophesy about birth as an anguished spirit,
they will disappear into the big toe. Should he wish to prophesy
about a human birth, they will disappear into the knees.

Should he wish to prophesy about someone’s becoming a great
universal monarch, they will disappear into the palm of the left
hand. Should he wish to prophesy about someone’s becoming a
universal monarch, they will disappear into the palm of the right
hand. Should he wish to prophesy about a god birth, they will
disappear into the navel. Should he wish to prophesy about the
enlightenment of the listeners, they will disappear into the mouth.
Should he wish to prophesy about the enlightenment of the solitary
buddhas, they will disappear into the hair between the eyebrows.
Should he wish to prophesy about an unexcelled, total, and complete
enlightenment, they will disappear into the crown of the head.

After these particular rays of light had circled the
Blessed One three times, they disappeared into the hair between the
Blessed One’s eyebrows. Then Venerable Ānanda joined his palms in
reverence and praised the Blessed One with the following verse:

“From your mouth’s great gate spill forth

Scores of thousand-colored spectra.

Like the shining of the sun,

They illumine everything.”

He then supplicated him with the following verses:

“The lords of beings, the buddhas who
cast off disconsolation,

Are rid of savagery and pride, and are themselves the cause of
all that’s good.

These victors over every rival, in the absence of cause and
condition

Do not display their smiles, which are the color of conch and
lotus root.

“So if you know it’s time, for your mind never falters,

Then come—ascetic, victor—quell your disciples’ hesitation.

O sage, greatest of
the herd, with speech unrivaled, sure, and good,

Reassure those prone to doubt.

“Mountain still, and vast as oceans,

Buddha, fully awakened lord,

Your smile is no mundane event.

Hero, make it manifest so that many might pay heed.

“With speech like a clap of thunder,

Graceful like a royal bull,

Oh tell the fruits awaiting those,

The peerless ones, who praise you!

“Lord, if in the absence of the right causes and conditions
the tathāgatas, the arhats, the totally and completely awakened
buddhas do not smile, what are the causes and conditions that make
them smile?”

“Ānanda, so it is,” replied the Blessed One. “It is just as
you say, Ānanda. Without the right causes and conditions the
tathāgatas, the arhats, the totally and completely awakened buddhas
do not smile. Ānanda, did you see the brahmin who circumambulated
the Tathāgata and departed?”

“Yes, Lord, I saw him,” Ānanda said.

“Ānanda, because of the root of virtue of this brahmin’s
action, he will not fall to the lower realms for thirteen eons. For
thirteen eons he will take rebirth among gods and humans. After
circling in saṃsāra, in his final rebirth, his final dwelling place,
he will take birth as a human being. Then he will go forth and
manifest the thirty-seven wings of enlightenment without a teacher
or any instruction. He will manifest the enlightenment of a solitary
buddha and become the solitary buddha known as Circumambulating.
That is what shall come of his act of generosity.”

The Second “Chariot” Story

When the Blessed One was in Śrāvastī there lived a certain
young brahmin who performed his sacrifice, climbed onto his chariot,
and, attended by his host of servants, rode into Śrāvastī. As the
Blessed One returned from Śrāvastī where he had gone for alms, the
young man gazed at the Blessed One joyfully, and at that moment the
Blessed One smiled.

Those that travel down go to the beings in the Reviving
Hell, the Black Thread Hell,

the Crushing Hell, the Shrieking Hell, the Screaming Hell, the Hot
Hell, the Hell of Extreme Heat, the Hell of Ceaseless Agony, the
Blistering Hell, the Bursting Blister Hell, the Hell of Chattering
Teeth, the Hell of Lamentation, the Cold Whimpering Hell, the
Splitting Open Like a Blue Lotus Hell, the Splitting Open Like a
Lotus Hell, and the Splitting Open Like a Great Lotus Hell, and as
they descend they cool the beings in the hot
hells, and warm the beings in the cold hells.

In this way they soothe the particular injuries of those
beings, who wonder, “Have we died and been reborn somewhere other
than this place?” Then, to engender faith in them, the blessed ones
radiate an emanation, and when the beings see it, they think, “Alas,
it is neither that we have died and left this place, nor that we
have been born elsewhere. Rather it is because of the unprecedented
appearance of this emanation that our particular injuries have been
soothed.” They feel real joy toward the emanation, exhausting the
deeds that brought them to experience the hells. Now, as fit vessels
of the truths, they take rebirth among the gods and humans.

The rays of light that travel up go to the following gods:
those of the Abodes of the Four Great Kings, the Heaven of the
Thirty-Three, the Strifeless Heaven, Tuṣita Heaven, the Delighting
in Creation Heaven, the Heaven of the Masters of Others’ Creations,
and the Heaven of Brahmā’s Assembly; those of the realms called
Brahmin Priests, Great Brahmā, Limited Splendor, Immeasurable
Splendor, Radiant Heaven, Lesser Virtue, Immeasurable Virtue,
Extensive Virtue, and the Cloudless Heaven; and those of the realms
called Increasing Merit, Great Result, None Greater,
Sorrowless, Sublime Vision, Great Vision, and
Supreme. There they sound a cry of impermanence,
suffering, emptiness, and selflessness, and they echo the following
two verses:

Cultivate renunciation,

Practice the Buddha’s teaching—

Translation source: Interpreted by AILicense: CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 (84000.co) · VI: bản dịch AI nâng cấp từ tóm lược, chờ đối chiếu · VI removed 2026-08-27 to honour the ND (no-derivatives) term

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