眾許摩訶帝經

Volume 6

At that time the Bodhisattva sought out the place where the ascetic Ārāḍa Kālāma practiced, in order to study with him. Upon arriving, the Bodhisattva joined his palms in reverence and asked:

"What is the meaning of your path of practice?"

Ārāḍa Kālāma answered:

"I constantly strive diligently in cultivating concentration and wisdom, having penetrated to the meditative state of the Heaven of Perception. Do you not yet know this?"

The Bodhisattva thought to himself: "The wisdom that Kālāma has attained, the mind reaching to the meditative state of the Heaven of Perception, is indeed no falsehood. With such a level, I too can attain it." Having thought thus, the Bodhisattva at once entered meditative concentration, and in but a moment attained the meditative wisdom of that ascetic, and reported his own attainment to the ascetic.

The ascetic Kālāma observed that it was just so, and was filled with deep admiration and respect. He regarded the Bodhisattva as a teacher and offered him precious flowers and fine fruits as offerings. Then the Bodhisattva again reflected: "This method of practice has not yet reached the ultimate; it is not the right path." Having thought thus, he bade farewell and departed to study with another teacher, Udraka Rāmaputra. Upon arriving, he made obeisance and then, joining his palms, asked the ascetic:

"What is the meaning of your attainment of the Way?"

The ascetic Udraka Rāmaputra answered:

"For many years I have striven diligently in cultivating wisdom, and have long since attained the meditative state of Neither-Perception-Nor-Non-Perception. Do you not know this?"

When the Bodhisattva heard this, he observed that the attainment of this sage was true and real, and then thought to himself: "With such a level, why have I not yet attained it?" Having thought thus for a while, he at once attained the same level as that ascetic, and said to that ascetic:

"The attainment you have realized, I too have attained."

The ascetic Udraka Rāmaputra, his mind not yet trusting, then stilled his mind and observed, and saw that it was true and not mistaken, and so he revered him exceedingly, serving him beyond a teacher. The Bodhisattva again reflected: "This path of practice too is not yet the ultimate; it is not the true path of enlightenment. I must leave this place to seek another path of practice."

At that time in the royal palace, King Śuddhodana, missing the Crown Prince and not knowing where he now was, was greatly grieved and distressed. A great minister reported:

"At present the Crown Prince has left the city of Rājagṛha and gone to the place of the ascetic Udraka Rāmaputra, alone and by himself diligently cultivating the Dharma."

Hearing this, the king felt all the more compassion and pity, and at once sent three hundred persons from among his kinsmen to seek out the place and attend upon the Crown Prince. King Suprabuddha of the city of Devadaha also sent two hundred persons to that place to follow and attend upon the Crown Prince. When those five hundred persons arrived, they all reverently bowed down to the Crown Prince and then circled about him, gazing upon him in admiration.

The Bodhisattva reflected: "I left the royal palace and entered the quiet of the mountain forests in order to devote my mind and resolve to cultivation, seeking the path of liberation. Now there are many people, day and night noisy and disturbing, harming the mind of the Way. Therefore I shall keep only five kinsmen of the clan, and send the rest back." The Bodhisattva at once led those five kinsmen to the region of the sage Gayā, called Uruvilvā-Senānī-grāma. Seeing that nearby there was a quiet area, and that near the Nairañjanā River there was a forest, the land level, the trees dense, shady, and cool—truly a holy place—the Bodhisattva said to the five who followed him:

"O good men, if anyone here cultivates the holy life and has not yet realized Nirvāṇa, before long he shall realize it. I shall now stop here to cultivate the unsurpassed Way."

Having said this, the Bodhisattva chose the shade of a tree, sat in the lotus posture, and cultivated meditative concentration by closing his mouth, clenching his teeth, pressing his tongue close to the roof of his palate, and holding his mind still and silent, as though holding an object in his hand without letting it slip away. After a time, sweat flowed from the pores of his skin, yet he strove on diligently without retreating, his mind ever still and tranquil, concentrating his spirit and directing it toward the undefiled mind; yet the undefiled mind still did not arise.

Next the Bodhisattva cultivated the method of discriminating contemplation: sitting in the lotus posture, closing his mouth, shutting his eyes, pressing his tongue to the upper palate, holding his breath without letting it escape outward. After a long while the air pressed up into his head, causing his head intense pain as if an awl were piercing his brain, and he suffered immense affliction; yet his mind remained firm, undisturbed and unmoving, his power of diligence all the more steadfast, single-mindedly directed toward concentrated mindfulness in the present; yet the undefiled mind still did not appear.

The air within his body gradually moved, descending from the crown of his head to his two ears, and the pain redoubled, as though it were the suffering of the hells. At that time the Bodhisattva still kept his mind firm and undistracted, urging himself on, resolutely maintaining right concentration, wholeheartedly determined to break through the afflictions; yet still he did not attain it. The Bodhisattva then shifted to holding his breath completely, no longer seeing or hearing, forgetting all external surroundings, the air stored within his viscera circulating throughout his whole body, his suffering extreme beyond compare.

Yet the Bodhisattva's mind at that time still did not waver; firm and diligent, concentrating his spirit to destroy the afflictions; yet still he did not attain it.

After cultivating in this way, the Bodhisattva thought to himself: "From now on I shall cut off eating and drinking altogether." At that time a certain deva, knowing this, addressed the Bodhisattva:

"Within the pores of my body there is precious food; I beg leave to offer it to you."

The Bodhisattva replied:

"My food is not of pungent and acrid flavors; food from your body is not pure food, and if eaten it would lead to falling into the hells. If the devas bring rice and beans, then I will accept."

The devas, following his instruction, brought the five grains as food for the Bodhisattva. At that time the Bodhisattva's body was thin and emaciated, his countenance haggard, yet his mind was still without affliction and did not retreat, but diligently cultivated, single-mindedly intent on extinguishing the afflictions; yet still he did not attain liberation.

The Bodhisattva again reduced his portion of food, and his body grew ever thinner and more emaciated, his two eyes sunken deep like two deep wells; yet the Bodhisattva's mind was without affliction and did not retreat, abiding in concentration, single-mindedly intent on extinguishing the afflictions; yet still he did not attain liberation. The Bodhisattva again reduced his portion of food, eating so little that each day he ate only a single bean, or a single sesame seed, or a single grain of rice, or a single grain of barley. Eating in this way, his strength grew ever more feeble, and as he walked and stood he often stumbled and fell; yet though he cultivated to such a degree, still he did not attain the Way.

At that time the Bodhisattva reflected: "This path of ascetic practice is not the true path of cultivation; it does not reach the ultimate liberation." Then three devas came before the Bodhisattva, and seeing that his form was thin, emaciated, and so greatly altered, each described the Bodhisattva's appearance differently. One said the Bodhisattva's bodily complexion was black; another said it was bluish-purple. Hearing this, the Bodhisattva reflected: "I have here cultivated every kind of ascetic practice, to the point that my appearance has been transformed, yet in the end I still have not attained the Way.

If I wish to attain Perfect Enlightenment, why then must I starve myself and practice austerities? One who accords with right view is one who, with all phenomena—whether grasping or relinquishing—can keep far apart from them; that alone is true enlightenment, the true ultimate. It is like wet firewood: outwardly it appears fresh, yet once it meets fire it will surely blaze up.

Again, as in the household of a brāhmaṇa: though one lives amid sensual pleasures, if the mind does not crave and cling, one too attains liberation. So it is with me now: if I simply use the right Dharma to cultivate without being intoxicated by or attached to anything, then I shall realize the Way of Bodhi."

At that time King Śuddhodana heard the news that the Crown Prince was practicing austerities in the forest, eating each day only a single grain of rice, a single sesame seed, and so on, in order to seek the Way of Bodhi; and he was sorely grieved and wept aloud. Together with King Suprabuddha, each sent two hundred and fifty persons to attend upon the Crown Prince. Knowing that Princess Yaśodharā was with child, the king then issued a command that the palace women and kinfolk must not let the princess know of the Crown Prince's practice of austerities, fearing that the princess might worry and so bring harm to the unborn child.

At that time the Crown Prince went to the Sītā forest and lay down on his right side, pillowing his head upon a corpse, his two legs crossed one over the other, contemplating how the people of the world live amid conditioned things, arising and ceasing in the world like a column of ants crawling round and round without end. After contemplating thus, the Bodhisattva sat up and entered into right concentration. At that time a group of children, boys and girls, went into the forest, and seeing the Bodhisattva sitting with eyes closed and motionless, they took twigs and poked them into the Bodhisattva's two ears, then said to one another:

"This is a clod of earth; we should not go near it."

Having said this, they threw sand and dirt at the Bodhisattva and then pulled one another away. After a time the Bodhisattva emerged from concentration, but still maintained right mindfulness, body and mind unmoving, contemplating: "This method of practice too is not the true one; it does not lead to the unsurpassed Way. I recall that long ago, when I was still the Crown Prince, I once left the royal palace and went to sit in meditation beneath the shade of a jambū tree and entered right concentration; my mind at that time was pure, far from faults, without any defilement or evil, and wholesome roots appeared.

Cultivating in such a way, I shall surely attain the fruit of the Way." Having contemplated thus, the Bodhisattva wished to rise and walk on, but his strength was exhausted and he could not stand up. So he resumed eating and drinking, anointed his body with oil, and then bathed and rested in sleep in order to restore his bodily strength.

At that time the five attendants said to one another:

"Formerly the Crown Prince left the city, abandoned the throne of a Wheel-Turning King, and entered the forest for many years of austerities; the fruit of the Way was about to be accomplished. But his will was not firm, and now he has given himself over to eating and drinking again, anointing himself with oil, bathing, and resting in sleep, losing the merit of his cultivation. How can this be called renunciation? We here are only wasting our effort in vain. In the Deer Park at the city of Vārāṇasī there are always holy arhats who come to dwell; we should go there to seek the fruit of the Way."

At that time the Crown Prince went down to the Nairañjanā River to bathe, but because his strength was too weak he could not climb out, and was fortunate to grasp a tree branch near the bank to pull himself up. Afterward he went to the village of Senānī. In the village there were two girls named Nandā and Nandabalā, of upright form and bearing, with hearts compassionate toward others.

Having heard the rumors of the people, they learned that there was a Crown Prince of the city of Kapilavastu cultivating the holy life by the bank of the Bhāgīrathī River, at the foot of the Snow Mountains, possessed of the full thirty-two marks of excellence, adorned with merit and virtue. So they gave rise to joyful hearts and wished to form a bond with the Crown Prince; therefore they undertook the practice of giving and cultivated merit, that their wish might be fulfilled.

Then the girl, hearing it said that on the bank of the Nairañjanā River there was a sage practicing austerities, gave rise to the wish to offer milk-porridge. She at once divided a herd of a thousand cows into two, and took the milk of five hundred of them to give to the other five hundred to drink. She again divided those five hundred into two herds, and took the milk of two hundred and fifty to give to the other two hundred and fifty to drink—and so on, until at last only eight remained, and the milk of those eight cows became exceedingly rich and delicious.

She then used a vessel of crystal to cook the milk-porridge. At that time, upon the surface of the porridge there suddenly appeared the image of a thousand-spoked wheel with a design like the svastika. Someone who saw this thought silently: "Whoever can eat this porridge will swiftly attain the fruit of unsurpassed Bodhi," and so said to the maiden:

"I am now hungry and thirsty; pray give me that milk-porridge to eat."

The maiden replied:

"I made this food to offer to the sage who is practicing austerities, not for you."

At that time Śakra, lord of the devas, transformed himself into a brāhmaṇa and came before the maiden. The girl wished to offer that milk to the brāhmaṇa. The brāhmaṇa said:

"I dare not accept it. Nearby there is a great lord of the world; you should offer it to him."

The girl asked:

"Who is the lord of the world?"

The brāhmaṇa answered:

"Not far from here there is the Great Brahmā Heaven."

The girl then went to offer it to the Great Brahmā. The Great Brahmā King said:

"I dare not accept it. There is the noble King of the Heaven of Pure Light; you should go and offer it to him."

The maiden again brought the milk-porridge and offered it to the deva of Pure Light, but he at once said:

"I dare not accept it. Now there is a Bodhisattva who bathed in the Nairañjanā River, his strength so feeble that he had to grasp a tree branch with his hand to climb up the bank. That one wears the kāṣāya robe and is about to attain the fruit of Buddhahood. If you offer it to him, you will gain great merit and virtue."

The maiden obeyed, and brought the bowl of milk-porridge and with sincere heart offered it to the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva silently received and ate it. After he had finished, he cast the bowl into the Nairañjanā River. The Dragon King then arose, wishing to take the bowl; Śakra at once transformed into a garuḍa, and the dragon, afraid, withdrew. Śakra took the bowl and brought it back to the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven, where he built a stūpa to make offerings to it.

At that time the Bodhisattva asked the two maidens:

"In offering this milk-porridge, what is it that you two wish to seek?"

The two girls answered:

"We have heard that King Śuddhodana of the city of Kapilavastu has a Crown Prince of upright and dignified form and bearing, who is to be a Wheel-Turning King; therefore we wish to form a bond with the Crown Prince."

The Bodhisattva said:

"That Crown Prince is one who cultivates the holy life, still and quiet, far removed from craving and desire; his name is Sarvārthasiddha. Before long he will attain the Way of Bodhi. How then could he form a bond with you?"

When the maidens heard this, they stood silent and said nothing. The Bodhisattva then climbed up onto a high boulder, intending to lie down alone amid the forest trees. He had just sat down for a moment when that boulder crumbled and collapsed, and the Bodhisattva was astonished, not knowing the cause.

At that time the deva-king of Pure Light addressed the Bodhisattva:

"Now all your practices are complete, and you are about to accomplish the four wisdoms. The merit of this place is thin, and it cannot bear so great an accomplishment. Not far from here there is the Adamantine Seat (Vajrāsana), the place where the Buddhas of the three times all attained Perfect Enlightenment."

The Bodhisattva then went to the place the deva-king had indicated. At each step of the Bodhisattva, lotus flowers blossomed, the waves of the sea surged, and the great earth quaked, producing a sound like the ringing of a bell. The Bodhisattva walked unhurriedly toward a great cave. In the cave there was a black dragon that was blind; because it heard the earth quaking and the waves rising, it came out of the cave, and its two eyes suddenly regained their sight. Seeing the Bodhisattva's upright and dignified form, his radiance like the sun, it was greatly delighted, gazed upon him, and spoke a verse:

The earth quakes, the waves rise, the sound resounds afar;
Hearing it, I at once left the deep cave.
My eyes suddenly grew bright and beheld the body of the Buddha;
With all my heart I gaze in admiration, truly rejoicing.

The dragon again addressed the Bodhisattva:

"I recall that long ago, when a Buddha appeared in the world, my two eyes grew bright so that I could behold that Buddha. Now it is just so: my eyes have grown bright and at once I behold the bodily form of the Buddha."

And it spoke a verse:

In ages past, through the majestic virtue of the Buddha,
I was made to behold his fine bodily marks.
I know I have met the Muni who has accomplished the Way;
I gaze upon his bodily marks just as of old.

At that time the Bodhisattva wished to go to the place of the Adamantine Seat. He lifted his right foot and walked majestically like the Bull King, his body steady as a jeweled mountain, his kāṣāya unstirring, his mind vast as empty space, his face radiant as the full moon, his halo shining everywhere, holding within the great medicine of the Dharma. Precious birds and rare beasts moved along his right side, circling about the Bodhisattva. In all there were as many as ten auspicious signs such as these.

At that time the Bodhisattva thought: "I should take auspicious kuśa grass and spread it upon the Adamantine Seat." Śakra, lord of the devas, understood the Bodhisattva's intent and at once transformed himself, went to the Gandhamādana Mountain, took kuśa grass—a kind of grass exceedingly soft like tūla-cotton flowers—and brought it back to spread upon the Adamantine Seat.

The Bodhisattva sat in the lotus posture upon that Adamantine Seat and made a vow:

"I shall not rise and leave this seat unless I have extinguished all afflictions."

Having made the vow, the Bodhisattva gathered his mind and entered into right concentration.

At that time in the palace of Māra, the king of demons, there were two banners: one named Banner of Joy, the other Banner of Doubt; whenever a banner stirred, it portended a corresponding omen. At that time the Banner of Doubt suddenly stirred. Māra was alarmed, suspecting that some misfortune was afoot, and so observed and learned that Crown Prince Siddhārtha, son of King Śuddhodana, was sitting upon the Adamantine Seat seeking to realize the fruit of unsurpassed enlightenment. Māra Pāpīyas then gave rise to a jealous mind and transformed himself into a letter-bearer of King Śuddhodana, coming to the Crown Prince. That one came before the Bodhisattva and inquired:

"Why is it that the Crown Prince is so near, yet for so long has not returned to visit? At the court, Devadatta has entered the Crown Prince's palace, arrogantly committing unlawful deeds, and has also slain many people of the Śākya clan."

When the Bodhisattva heard this, three unwholesome thoughts suddenly arose in his mind. These were: thinking of lustful desire; thinking of kinsmen being slain, from which anger arose. But because he knew that Māra was deceiving him, these turned into three wholesome thoughts: departing from desire, not thinking of killing, and cutting off anger and hatred entirely. Māra asked:

"What do you sit beneath the Bodhi tree to do?"

The Bodhisattva answered:

"I seek to attain unsurpassed wisdom."

Māra again said:

"How will you attain that unsurpassed wisdom?"

The Bodhisattva said:

"You are one of the demon path, with many sins and hindrances. Suppose a brāhmaṇa who reverently undertook giving could still gain the reward of sovereign mastery—how much more so I, who through three great asaṃkhyeya kalpas have relinquished countless hundreds of thousands of nayutas and myriad koṭis of heads, eyes, marrow, brains, cities and strongholds, wives and children, gold and silver and jewels in giving, benefiting sentient beings to seek unsurpassed wisdom? Why then should I not attain it?"

Māra said:

"I caused the company of brāhmaṇas to become wealthy and sovereignly free; they can bear witness for me. But as for you who say you have through three great asaṃkhyeya kalpas given away heads, eyes, and so on—who is there to bear witness?"

Hearing this, the Bodhisattva at once raised his marvelous right hand, formed the mudrā of fearlessness, touched the surface of the earth, and said:

"Bear witness for me."

Immediately the earth gods sprang up from the ground, joined their palms, and all together cried out:

"O Māra, our World-Honored One, from of old, through three great asaṃkhyeya kalpas, used countless hundreds of thousands of nayutas and koṭis of heads, eyes, brains, marrow, cities and strongholds, wives and children, gold and silver and jewels to benefit sentient beings, in order to seek unsurpassed wisdom. This is the truth, not false or empty. You demon hosts, harbor no doubt."

When Māra heard these words, his heart was afraid, and he silently reflected: "If the Bodhisattva attains the Way, he will surely invade my realm and seize away all my majesty and splendor." Having thought thus, he returned to the demon palace to devise another cruel scheme.

Māra then conjured up three daughters of beautiful form and bearing, who came before the Bodhisattva with gentle and graceful movements, pretending to gaze upon the Bodhisattva in admiration, hoping to bewilder and confound him. The Bodhisattva at once used his spiritual power to transform them into white-haired old women, their faces wrinkled and exceedingly ugly, and then held up a mirror for them to look into. They were so ashamed that they vanished.

Seeing that he had not succeeded in disturbing the Bodhisattva, Māra was greatly enraged. He then marshaled thirty-six koṭis of demon soldiers and generals, their bodies clad in armor, their hands grasping every kind of weapon, dragging along even fierce beasts such as poison dragons, elephants, horses, tigers, and leopards, and furthermore making thunder and lightning and hail to surround him on all four sides, intending to harass and harm the Bodhisattva.

Seeing this, the Bodhisattva felt all the more compassion for the delusion of Māra's army; his mind entered concentration and gave rise to thoughts of loving-kindness. At that time the deva of Pure Light, up in empty space, conjured a great parasol covering the whole sky to shield against all the hail, bows and arrows, clubs and staves, and these were all transformed into heavenly flowers—such as the utpala, padma, kumuda, and puṇḍarīka flowers—all of which flew swirling about the Adamantine Seat, as if to make offerings to the Bodhisattva.

At that time the Bodhisattva, from within right concentration, exercised his spiritual powers: joining many into one, transforming one into many, flying up into the sky to walk, stand, sit, and lie, the upper part of his body producing water and the lower part producing fire, walking upon water as upon level ground, and so on. After he had finished these transformations, the Bodhisattva observed the demon hosts and saw that they still had much wrong view, doubt, craving, resentment, and folly; and he saw that among sentient beings there were those free from desire and those intoxicated by desire, those possessed of perception and those without perception, and so on—leading to the distinction between the liberated and the unliberated.

All these phenomena the Bodhisattva understood with perfect clarity. The Bodhisattva further used the penetration of recollection of past lives to observe the parents of Māra and of the sentient beings in the past—from one kalpa, two kalpas, a hundred kalpas, a thousand kalpas, up to countless kalpas—and then the worlds, the lands, the clans and kinfolk, whether wealthy or poor and lowly, long-lived or dying young, and where they were born after death; all this he knew with perfect clarity and thoroughness.

Then the Bodhisattva further used the divine eye to observe in the future age where Māra and the sentient beings would be born, the matters of cause and effect, of life and death, and the wholesome and unwholesome karma of body, speech, and mind that leads to bad or good consequences, and how in the end it would all turn out; all this too he understood clearly.

He further contemplated the three realms—the realm of desire, the realm of form, and the formless realm—and the characteristics of the conduct of the Four Truths of Suffering, Origin, Cessation, and Path, whether defiled or pure, distinguishing the various kinds of delusion and affliction, such as innate delusions, fundamental delusions, and consequent delusions. Having contemplated thus, undefiled wisdom at once appeared; abandoning the perception of the two extremes, the Bodhisattva realized and became the Unsurpassed Enlightened One. At that time the demon hosts all disintegrated and withdrew; but Māra then went and lied to King Śuddhodana:

"Crown Prince Siddhārtha has passed away upon the Adamantine Seat."

Hearing the news, the king and his kinfolk were exceedingly grieved, and wept and lamented to the point that many people fell to the ground in a faint. At that time a deva told the king that the Crown Prince had become the Unsurpassed Bodhi; and when the king heard this, he was filled with boundless joy. Just then an official came in and reported:

"King Amṛtodana has just had a newborn son, and Princess Yaśodharā has likewise just given birth to a son."

Upon receiving this news, the king and his kinfolk were exceedingly elated. King Śuddhodana issued a command to clean and repair the roads, to hang banners, streamers, and precious garlands, and at the four gates of the city to lay out gold, silver, and many kinds of precious objects to offer to the śramaṇas, brāhmaṇas, and the mendicants of other paths, in order to seek merit.

When the son of King Amṛtodana was born, everyone rejoiced, and so he was named Ānanda. Princess Yaśodharā, when she gave birth, did so at the time of a lunar eclipse, and so the child was named Rāhula. King Śuddhodana said:

"The son of Yaśodharā is not of the Buddha's lineage."

Hearing this, the princess was troubled and distressed in her heart. At that time, at the edge of the pond behind the king's palace there was a boulder named the Bodhisattva Stone. One day Rāhula came and sat playing upon it, and when the princess saw this, she said:

"If Rāhula is truly the son of Crown Prince Siddhārtha, may the boulder not sink; but if he is not the son of the Crown Prince, may the boulder sink."

Having uttered this vow, the princess then pushed the boulder—together with Rāhula who was sitting and playing upon it—down into the pond. But the boulder still floated upon the water, and Rāhula still played quite naturally.

At that time, when the king and his kinfolk saw this scene, all rejoiced and marveled, regarding it as something never before seen. At that time the great earth quaked, and light shone everywhere, reaching even the darkest places, so that the sentient beings there beheld one another and all reverently bowed their heads in homage.