眾許摩訶帝經

Volume 10

Uruvilvā Kāśyapa had two younger brothers, Nadī Kāśyapa and Gayā Kāśyapa, each of whom had two hundred and fifty disciples, and all of them dwelt along the lower reaches of the Nairañjanā River. Their disciples all diligently practiced according to the methods of their teachers.

One day, these two Kāśyapas suddenly saw their elder brother's fire-worship implements, his deerskin garments, his bark-cloth robes, his water-vessel, his staff, and his sandals of animal hide floating down the Nairañjanā River. Greatly astonished, they thought: "Has our elder brother offended the king, or has he met with calamity by robbers, by water, or by fire? Only if he had suffered such misfortunes would he be unable to continue his practice. Otherwise, why would his fire-worship implements be cast adrift upon the river like this?"

At that time the two of them pondered and discussed at length this strange affair, and they resolved to go together in search of their brother. They came to their elder brother's dwelling, but found neither Uruvilvā Kāśyapa nor his disciples there. They saw only the rooms, empty and bare. The two grew all the more bewildered and sorrowful, so they went to make inquiries. The neighbors told them that Uruvilvā Kāśyapa had abandoned the ascetic's path and led his disciples to take refuge with a certain Śramaṇa, but as to anything further they were not certain, and so the brothers went there in person to find out what had happened.

When the two Kāśyapa brothers received this news, they said to one another:

"We have heard that there is a Śramaṇa who has come to dwell nearby, possessing many marvelous powers, and that his every action and bearing differs from those of ordinary men. Perhaps our elder brother and his disciples have gone there already. If it is truly so, then this is indeed a most extraordinary thing. Let us now go there to see whether it is true or false."

The two went together to the place where the Buddha was, and at once they saw their elder brother Uruvilvā Kāśyapa together with his disciples, all wearing the kāṣāya in the form of Śramaṇas, seated before the Buddha, attentively listening to the Dharma. Seeing this, the two were struck with alarm, their hair stood on end, and their legs seemed unable to move.

The Buddha, seeing that Nadī and Gayā had come in search of their brother, yet stood stunned and unable to move, then bade Uruvilvā go to welcome his two younger brothers. When the two saw their brother approaching, they hurried forward, prostrated themselves, and asked:

"Elder brother, you are advanced in years, lofty in virtue, long in practice, broad in learning and deep in knowledge—none in the world is your equal. The king of the land of Magadha, the great ministers, and all the people regard you as having attained the fruit of Arhatship, and constantly bring food, incense and flowers, garments, and many precious things to make offerings to you. Whatever you teach, they obey.

Why is it that today you have suddenly abandoned your own path and followed the path of another? From of old we have practiced according to your teaching and instruction, and even our disciples have not turned aside to any other way. Now that you yourself have forsaken your own path of practice, how shall we maintain our discipline?

We are deeply bewildered and full of doubt; we beg you, elder brother, to instruct us."

Having spoken, the two younger brothers stood to one side. Uruvilvā said to his two younger brothers Nadī and Gayā:

"Before the coming of the Buddha, the world was like the dark of night, and human beings, lacking the eye of wisdom, could not see the way and easily fell into pits and chasms. Formerly I practiced austerities and worshiped fire, seeking to realize the holy fruit, and I taught this path to you, my brothers, holding that no path could surpass it; and I deemed myself to have attained the fruit of Arhatship. Fortunately there appeared a great Śramaṇa, namely the Buddha, the World-Honored One, his body sixteen feet tall, of dazzling golden hue, complete in the auspicious marks, of boundless majesty and virtue.

Because he had compassion for me, he came to dwell nearby, and his every movement and stillness was known to the devas; even the Four Heavenly Kings, Brahmā, and Śakra came to listen to his Dharma. Moreover he possessed the supernatural power of spiritual feet, so that in but a moment he traveled throughout the four continents of the world, and ascended even to the heavenly palaces to receive food and bring it back—all of which was done to enlighten me, for he knew that I had not yet attained the fruit of Arhatship.

Through all this I saw that my own virtue was not its equal, and so I awakened beforehand, that I might escape regret hereafter. Thus I and my disciples requested to go forth into homelessness, and out of compassion for us he consented to let us wear the Dharma robes and become members of the Saṅgha. I did not inform you, my brothers, beforehand—truly I am at fault."

At that time, the spiritual capacities of Nadī and Gayā being already ripe, when they had heard this they at once gave rise to faith in the Buddha, and with hearts mingled with sorrow and joy, they said to their elder brother:

"We practiced because of your teaching, elder brother. Now that you have gone forth, we too wish to follow. If a Buddha had not appeared in the world, how could we ever have heard the True Dharma? Though we are old in years, still we hope to attain liberation."

Uruvilvā said:

"Excellent! Now is indeed the proper time."

Nadī and Gayā came and paid homage to the Buddha, then stood to one side and said:

"World-Honored One, our elder brother Uruvilvā was formerly our teacher, and now he has gone forth as a Śramaṇa. Therefore we too wish to go forth into homelessness; we beg the Buddha out of compassion to deliver us."

The Buddha consented, but wishing also to deliver the disciples of the two, he said:

"Do your disciples yet know of this?"

The two replied:

"They do not yet know."

The Buddha said:

"Go and explain it clearly to them, and then come here, and I shall accept them into homelessness."

The two obeyed the Buddha's words, and each returned to gather his own disciples together, and said to them:

"Do you know that there is a great Śramaṇa called the Buddha who has come to dwell where our elder brother was? He manifested many supernatural powers and strange marks to enlighten him, and used his majestic power to subdue him, causing him to awaken and to realize that his own teaching was not the Buddha's equal. Therefore he led all his disciples to request to go forth into homelessness under the Buddha.

Because we saw the fire-worship implements floating upon the river, we went to inquire and came to the place of the Buddha. When we arrived, we saw him and his disciples wearing the kāṣāya as Śramaṇas, seated and listening attentively to the preaching of the Dharma. When we saw this, at first we were utterly terrified and stunned.

He came out to welcome us and explained to us all that had happened, and so we have requested to go forth; but thinking of you, we have come back to tell you. Whatever you think, tell us truly."

The disciples then said:

"We have studied with you, our teacher, and whatever you teach we obey. Now that you, our teacher, have gone forth and followed the Buddha, how should we dare cling stubbornly to our own path? We too vow to follow."

At that time Nadī Kāśyapa and Gayā Kāśyapa led all their disciples to bow in homage to the Buddha, then rose and waited to hear the Buddha's teaching. The Buddha asked the two:

"Have you then come?"

The two replied:

"We and our disciples have come together to pay homage to the Buddha and to beg to go forth into homelessness, to follow the True Dharma, to receive and keep the precepts, and to cultivate the holy life. We beg the Buddha in his compassion to consent."

The Buddha accepted them as Śramaṇas. He taught:

"Today you have truly gone forth into homelessness; today you truly possess the holy life."

Hearing this, those venerable ones rejoiced beyond measure, and each one bowed in homage, circumambulated the Buddha, and stood to one side, gazing upon him.

At that time, after delivering the three Kāśyapa brothers and the one thousand bhikṣus, the Buddha departed from that place together with them and ascended the summit of Mount Gayā to walk in meditation. Upon arriving, the Buddha did three things for the bhikṣus: first, he manifested supernatural powers; second, he preached the Dharma; and third, he disciplined their minds. At that time the World-Honored One entered right concentration, manifested supernatural powers, and produced various appearances: he vanished from where he sat and appeared in the empty space of the eastern quarter with the four bearings of walking, standing, lying, and sitting, his body emitting rays of five-colored light—blue, yellow, white, red, and crimson.

From the upper part of the Buddha's body fire issued forth, and from the lower part water, or the reverse. The Buddha appeared likewise in the western, southern, and northern quarters with these same transformations, and in but a moment returned again to his seat. The Buddha then preached the Dharma for the bhikṣus, saying:

"Concerning the dharmas, examine within your hearts which matters you still doubt and which you no longer doubt, which you remember and which you do not remember, which afflictions have been extinguished and which have not yet been extinguished; and among these dharmas, choose and resolutely cultivate practice."

The Buddha went on to say:

"You should know: visual consciousness arises through the condition of attachment to forms; through contact with forms the mind arises, and thereby there is suffering, pleasure, neither suffering nor pleasure; and so too with the consciousnesses of the faculties of ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—all are likewise. O bhikṣus, as is the fire of greed, so too are hatred and delusion, and through them there is the cycle of birth and death together with birth, aging, sickness, death, sorrow, grief, and suffering.

O bhikṣus, these three fires flare up because of the self; if one wishes to extinguish these three fires, one must remove clinging to a self. When clinging to a self is absent, those three fires of themselves cease to be, and thereby the cycle of rebirth and all the suffering within the three realms of themselves come to an end."

At that time the three Kāśyapa brothers together with the one thousand bhikṣus, having had the supernatural powers manifested to them by the Buddha and having heard him expound the True Dharma, cut off their afflictions, attained liberation of mind; all that needed to be done had been done, they had laid down their heavy burden, ended the cycle of rebirth, and all realized the fruit of Arhatship.

After the Buddha had delivered the three Kāśyapas together with their one thousand disciples to the realization of the fruit of Arhatship, King Bimbisāra, the great ministers, and the people all came to know that the Buddha and more than a thousand of his disciples were dwelling upon the summit of Mount Gayā. At that time a certain great minister addressed the king, saying:

"I have heard that of late the people often say that the Śākya clan has given birth to a son. When he was first born, this one was already complete in the auspicious marks, and the physiognomists predicted that he would later ascend the throne as a Wheel-Turning Sage King, ruling the four continents of the world, employing the True Dharma to teach the people to practice the ten wholesome deeds; that he would possess in full the seven treasures, and a thousand sons of surpassingly handsome appearance, of great power and majesty, so that everywhere all would be subdued; but that if he went forth into homelessness, he would become the Unsurpassed, Perfectly Awakened One.

Having heard this, I beg to report it all to Your Majesty. I pray Your Majesty quickly devise a plan to destroy him, so as to avert calamity hereafter."

At that time King Bimbisāra, in the hours when he sat upon his throne in the main hall, often cherished five wishes: first, that a Buddha might appear in the world; second, that he might soon come to the place of the Buddha to pay homage, to behold him, and to rejoice in his merits; third, that he might hear the preaching of the Dharma; fourth, that hearing the Dharma he might at once attain comprehension; and fifth, that the Buddha might confer the precepts upon him and that he might keep them with all his heart. While he was thus cherishing these wishes, he suddenly heard the great minister make this address, and his heart was grieved. After a while he raised his voice and said:

"You are a foolish and deluded man, that you should give rise to such a malicious heart toward the Tathāgata—truly a man of great folly. Begone, and speak no more!"

That minister, knowing that the king would not heed his counsel, was afraid and ashamed, and withdrew. King Bimbisāra looked around at the ministers about him, and seeing a great minister of much meritorious appearance and wisdom, he gave him this command:

"Go to the summit of Mount Gayā, where the World-Honored One is dwelling, and on my behalf reverently address the World-Honored One thus: King Bimbisāra reverently bows his head in homage to the World-Honored One, sending words of greeting and inquiry after his health, praying that the World-Honored One be at peace in mind and body, that all be well and joyful; and he respectfully invites the World-Honored One to descend upon the royal city to receive his offerings, so that I and the people of my realm may obtain abundant benefit.

I pray the World-Honored One and the assembly of holy ones in their compassion to consent. I shall, to the end of my life, offer food, medicine, the saṅghāṭī robes, and all other necessities; I pray the World-Honored One and the holy assembly in their compassion, without minding the toil and hardship, to come. When you have addressed him thus, reverently pay homage at the feet of the Buddha and wait to hear his instruction."

The great minister obeyed the king's command and went to the place of the Buddha, presenting all the matters just as the king had charged him. When he had paid homage and saw that the World-Honored One was silent, the envoy knew that the Buddha had given his consent, and so with joy he paid homage, circumambulated the World-Honored One, and took his leave to return to the court.

When King Bimbisāra heard that the envoy had returned, he at once ascended to his hall. After king and subject had greeted one another, the king asked the envoy:

"Did the World-Honored One accept the invitation?"

The envoy replied:

"On Your Majesty's command I went up to Mount Gayā to invite the Buddha and the assembly of monks, and presented Your Majesty's words to the Buddha. He silently consented; assuredly the Buddha will descend."

The king then commanded his close ministers to see to the cleaning and adorning of the palace, that it might be pure and dignified; even the city moats and the roads were all swept and cleaned, and further they arranged all manner of fragrant incense and precious flowers in preparation to welcome the Buddha.

At that time the Buddha, together with his elder disciples such as the three Kāśyapa brothers and the one thousand Arhats, came from Mount Gayā to the royal city. Not far from the city there was a stūpa in the grove of Yaṣṭivana, and the Buddha and the holy assembly halted and rested at that stūpa. When King Bimbisāra heard that the Buddha had arrived at the Yaṣṭivana stūpa, he ordered the carriages and attendants prepared, and then the king together with his kinsfolk and his ministers went out from the city to the place where the Buddha had halted.

Just after he had gone out from the palace, not far off, the king's carriage fell into a hollow and could go no further. The king thought: "Surely in a former life I created unwholesome karma, and so now I meet with this mishap." Just as he thought this, he heard a voice in the air say:

"It is not that in a former life Your Majesty did anything unwholesome, but that in the present there are still many prisoners confined in the jails. This is the cause that has made the carriage fall into the hollow."

When the king heard the voice from the air, he knew that it was the holy and worthy ones instructing him, and he rejoiced greatly. He at once ordered an official to go to all the prisons, and the prisoners, whether of grave or light offense, were pardoned one after another. The carriage went on to the gate of the city, when suddenly the crown the king wore became damaged and torn. The king thought again: "Surely in a former life I did something unwholesome, and so now many inauspicious things befall me." The holy worthy one again spoke from the air:

"It is not that in a former life Your Majesty did anything inauspicious, but that in the present, in releasing the prisoners, you pardoned only those of light offense, while those of grave offense, though still alive, were banished to another place. It is for this reason that the crown was damaged and torn."

When the king heard this, he at once ordered officials to go everywhere and proclaim pardon for all. The prisoners released rejoiced beyond measure and all praised the virtue of the king. At that time the king, together with his attendants and kinsfolk, traveled in twelve thousand carriages, while the brahmins, elders, and people of the realm traveled in a hundred thousand other carriages; all left the city and came to where the Buddha was dwelling.

When they arrived at the Yaṣṭivana stūpa, in the flower garden, the king plucked five blossoms of the Kakkola flower and, holding the flowers in his own hands, went to the place of the Buddha. When he drew near, the king descended from his carriage and went on foot, having all the insignia of state such as banners, parasols, swords, and halberds set aside. Coming before the Buddha, the king bared his right shoulder, joined his palms toward the Buddha, and three times declared himself:

"I am King Bimbisāra." And the Buddha likewise three times replied:

"It is so! It is so!"

The king offered the five blossoms, then bowed his head in homage beneath the feet of the Buddha, and with the most excellent words praised the Buddha. The World-Honored One invited the king to be seated. After the king had taken his seat, the royal kinsfolk and the brahmins, the elders, and the people in turn paid homage to the Buddha, all rejoicing beyond measure. Each spoke verses in praise of the World-Honored One and then stood to one side.

Uruvilvā Kāśyapa, who formerly had been most reverently honored by the king, the great ministers, and the people, now had become a Śramaṇa standing in attendance beside the Buddha; and there was none among the king and the people who was not astonished. Some thought: "The elder Kāśyapa worshiped fire and practiced austerities for many years, surpassing others in wisdom and virtue; now that he is here, it makes us wonder—did Kāśyapa convert the Tathāgata, or did the Tathāgata convert Kāśyapa?"

The Buddha secretly knew these doubts, and so he said to Kāśyapa:

"The time has come for you to show them your attainment."

Kāśyapa obeyed the Buddha, and right where he sat he entered right concentration, then vanished and appeared in the eastern quarter with the four bearings of walking, standing, lying, and sitting; from his body he emitted brilliant rays of light comprising five colors—blue, yellow, red, white, and crimson—the colors interspersed with one another, or as clear as crystal; and again he transformed the upper part of his body into water and the lower part into fire, or the reverse. In the southern, western, and even the northern quarters he made the same transformations. Having manifested his supernatural powers, in a moment Kāśyapa returned to his seat, joined his palms toward the Buddha, and spoke verses:

Having spoken these verses, Kāśyapa paid homage to the Buddha and returned to his seat. At that time the king and all the people came to know that Kāśyapa was a disciple of the Buddha. Then the Buddha, knowing that the doubts and questions of all in the assembly had been resolved, said to the king:

"I shall now, for Your Majesty's sake, expound the important dharmas. Your Majesty should listen attentively and reflect upon them with care."

The Buddha went on to say:

"O Great King, Your Majesty should know that the physical body of Your Majesty, having arising, also has cessation; therefore you should examine carefully the two characteristics of arising and cessation until they are truly clear, and you should likewise contemplate feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness as being just like the aggregate of form. O good sons, if you are able to comprehend that the aggregates are subject to arising and cessation, then you should further contemplate within, with care, their nature of neither arising nor ceasing.

If you are able to contemplate with wisdom and discern clearly the nature of form as neither arising nor ceasing, then you will know that feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness likewise neither arise nor cease. O good sons, form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are originally neither arising nor ceasing, neither coming nor going. If you comprehend the true characteristic of all dharmas as neither arising nor ceasing, neither coming nor going, then you must also not grasp at that very nature of neither arising, nor ceasing, nor coming, nor going.

O Great King, if you have already understood clearly the true characteristic of all dharmas, then you will attain innumerable, asaṃkhyeya dharmas of quiescent cessation."

At that time the whole assembly—from the brahmins and elders to the common people—all gave rise to thoughts of doubt and questioning: "Now the World-Honored One says that form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are originally empty; how then can there be the characteristic of a self, the characteristic of a person, the characteristic of a being, the characteristic of a life-span, the characteristic of a Pudgala, the characteristic of a Mānavaka, the characteristic of one who is master, the characteristic of one who executes commands?

If the characteristics of self, person, being, life-span, and so forth are all empty, how then can one know the cause and effect of beings when they do good or unwholesome deeds, and when, casting off this body, they then come to another body?"

The World-Honored One, knowing the doubting thoughts within the assembly, then said to Kāśyapa and the assembly of bhikṣus:

"O bhikṣus, to see a characteristic of self, a characteristic of person, a characteristic of being, a characteristic of life-span, and so forth—this is precisely the mistaken view of ordinary, witless folk. If one holds such views, one will incur suffering. If one knows that suffering has arisen, then one must seek to extinguish suffering.

O bhikṣus, the innumerable conditioned dharmas of cause and effect all arise precisely from seeds silently sprouting forth; all this I have come to know clearly, and now I wish that beings, like me, may penetrate the arising and ceasing of dharmas. O bhikṣus, the eye of wisdom of the Buddha is far brighter than that of the devas. Those beings who possess marks fair or foul, who are born noble or base, who would do good or evil according to their karma—all this I comprehend clearly.

The karmas of beings comprise bodily karma, verbal karma, and mental karma; in general, beings who hold wrong views will give rise to wrong karma, or will slander the Buddha-Dharma. Because of such karmas, after death they fall into the evil destinies and suffer countless torments. O bhikṣus, if any being, in body and speech, creates wholesome karma, possessing right view, right conduct, and right action, and constantly praises the Buddha-Dharma—because of such wholesome conduct, at the end of life he will be born in the heaven of the Well-Gone.

O bhikṣus, I possess knowledge and vision in accordance with reality, and there is nothing I do not know; I know clearly the characteristic of self, the characteristic of person, the characteristic of being, the characteristic of life-span, the characteristic of Mānavaka, and even the characteristic of one who is master and one who executes commands; and whether one produces the cause and effect of wholesome karma and unwholesome karma, forsaking this body to seek another body—all these things are nothing that truly exists.

I have ever said that all conditioned dharmas of cause and effect have a cause by which they arise, and likewise have a cause by which they are destroyed. That cause is this: conditioned by ignorance, formations arise; conditioned by formations, consciousness arises; conditioned by consciousness, name-and-form arise; conditioned by name-and-form, the six sense-bases arise; conditioned by the six sense-bases, contact arises; conditioned by contact, feeling arises; conditioned by feeling, craving arises; conditioned by craving, grasping arises; conditioned by grasping, becoming arises; becoming is the cause of birth; birth is the cause of aging and death, sorrow, grief, and suffering.

Thus from a single cause all these sufferings arise. O bhikṣus, if that cause is extinguished, then suffering will be no more; that is, when ignorance ceases, formations cease; when formations cease, consciousness ceases; when consciousness ceases, name-and-form cease; when name-and-form cease, the six sense-bases cease; when the six sense-bases cease, contact ceases; when contact ceases, feeling ceases; when feeling ceases, craving ceases; when craving ceases, grasping ceases; when grasping ceases, becoming ceases; when becoming ceases, birth ceases; when birth ceases, aging and death, sorrow, grief, and suffering are no more.

Thus the entire mass of suffering is extinguished. O bhikṣus, because the cause of Origination is extinguished, suffering will of itself be extinguished, and the cessation of all suffering is precisely the bliss of Nirvāṇa. Furthermore, if the characteristic of self can be cut off, then there is no longer any cause for the arising of suffering—that is, there is no longer any cycle of rebirth.

If one knows that suffering does not exist, then what is there to extinguish? This is to attain the stopping and cutting off of that stream of cause and effect, to attain purity and freshness, to be far removed from all the entanglements of conceptual notions of attainment—this is precisely Nirvāṇa."