生經

Sutra 1: The Buddha Speaks the Nālai Sutra

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was journeying and teaching in Prince Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s Park, in the kingdom of Śrāvastī, together with an assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty great bhikshus.

At that time, a son of good family had left home, departed from his wife and children, and separated from his relatives to become a śramaṇa. His wife, who was proper and exceedingly beautiful, remarried when she saw that her husband had left home to cultivate the path. When the son of good family heard this news, he recalled the happy times he had shared with his wife: at times they had observed propriety and treated each other with respect, and at other times they had laughed and played together without restraint.

His longing did not abate in the slightest, and the image of his wife continually haunted him. Consequently, he became gaunt and haggard, and his life was perpetually filled with sorrow. He no longer delighted in the pure cultivation of the brahmacarya and resolved to return home.

When the bhikshus learned of this, they went and reported it to the Buddha. The Buddha promptly summoned the son of good family. He immediately came, paid homage to the Buddha, and sat to one side.

The Buddha then dispelled for his sake his deluded thoughts of sensual form and the faults of deluded attachment. He taught him about the impurity of defiled afflictions, how pleasure is slight while sorrow is abundant, and how failures are many while successes are few. These consequences occur without limit and can be clearly discerned only by the Buddha and his wise disciples.

Sensual desire gives rise to innumerable offenses. Only by transcending sensual desire and abandoning every perception of it can one attain a life of tranquility in which to study the Sublime Truths.

After hearing the Buddha’s teaching, the son of good family immediately gained a clear understanding of the luminous Dharma of the noble sages. At the same time, the bhikshus also attained what they had never attained before. They discussed the matter among themselves:

“Let us reflect upon this. Although this son of good family abandoned the fetters and chains of the prison of household life, he bound his own mind with attachment to his wife and children and did not single-mindedly cultivate the brahmacarya. The Blessed One promptly employed the wise skillful means of the Tathagata to instruct and reveal the Dharma to him, enabling him to become a noble sage.”

The bhikshus then said to the Blessed One:

“We have observed that although this son of good family left his household, determined to become a śramaṇa, he continued to think of his wife, children, and domestic affairs. The Blessed One revealed to him the faults of sensual desire, the efficacy of the precepts, the perils of birth and death, and the peace and joy of the unconditioned realm of liberation, thereby enabling this practitioner to reach the state of a noble one and sever every attachment and entanglement. Apart from the Tathagata, the Utterly True One, the Perfectly and Completely Awakened One, no one else could accomplish this.”

The Buddha said:

“Bhikshus, it is not only in this life that this bhikshu has become attached to sensual form and passionate love, unable to restrain himself, his mind fettered by sensual desire and incapable of breaking free. Nor is this the first time I have guided him to eliminate the delusions of sensual desire. Long ago, in a past life, I also did so.”

The Buddha recounted:

“In the distant past, there was a king named Fangji. His palace contained many beautiful women whose alluring beauty was beyond compare. They frequently quarreled with others, contending mercilessly with licentious women, and even disputing and fighting with maidservants and young attendants.

None of them would live harmoniously with the others. Immediately after one such quarrel, they left the palace and disappeared. When King Fangji heard what had happened, he became enraged.

His servants could not find where those beautiful women had gone, causing the king to grieve without consolation and weep bitterly. He constantly thought of the women: he remembered their joyful laughter and play and recalled the affection between husband and wife. Now all his thoughts and actions were directed toward them; even instrumental music and singing merely increased his sorrow and brought him no benefit.

The king could not free himself from this condition.

“At that time, there was a seer endowed with the five superknowledges. He traveled through the air by means of spiritual powers and possessed immeasurable might. His name was Nālai—in the language of the Jin dynasty, ‘Without Delight.’ Seeing King Fangji deluded and following the course of sensual desire, unable to free himself, the seer felt compassion for him and wished to eliminate for him the affliction of sensual desire. The seer Nālai flew through the sky, displayed his spiritual powers, and suddenly descended into the center of the royal hall. When the king saw him, he immediately rose to welcome him and offered him his own seat. After the seer was seated, he asked the king:

“‘Why is Your Majesty’s mind immersed in sensual desire, continually burdened by troubled thoughts and preoccupied with passionate love and sensual form, so that you cannot restrain yourself?’

“The king respectfully related the facts in full, explaining that the women of the inner palace had contended over their ranks—senior and junior, superior and inferior—and refused to live together harmoniously, until all of them had departed. This was the very cause of his sorrow and anxiety, from which he could find no release.

“The seer then taught the king about the many sufferings and calamities of sensual desire and the virtues of abandoning it. The seer said:

“‘People in the world pursue sensual desires without ever knowing satisfaction. Even if a person were to fulfill every desire, he still would not consider himself content.’

“He then spoke this verse:

The people of the world have countless desires;

Not one among them knows contentment.

Every path of desire leads to peril—

Why, then, destroy oneself?

All the flowing waters

Pour into the great ocean,

Yet it never regards itself as full;

So too, no one without contentment is ever satisfied.

Even if one became a Brahmā,

With a nobility none could equal,

The objects of desire would still surpass it;

One would never know contentment.

Suppose all the plants and trees

Throughout Jambudvīpa

Were burned without ever satisfying the flames—

So too, desire can never be fulfilled.

Like eight classes of men,

Proper, radiant in appearance,

All increasing in desire,

With splendid dignity and handsome form;

As harsh words increase,

They ruin a man through desire.

What should not be despised, they despise;

Not yet content, they deem themselves content.

Your Majesty should understand:

When one follows sensual desire,

Passionate attachment only increases,

Just as when one drinks salt water.

The seer, for the sake

Of King Fangji, gave this explanation

And spoke these penetrating verses,

Causing the king to understand.

“At that time, the seer instructed and transformed King Fangji with this Dharma. The king immediately became free and gained clear understanding. No longer delighting in the course of sensual pleasures, he left the household life to study the path, cultivated the four brahmavihāras, eliminated sensual desire, and perfectly upheld the precepts. After his life ended, he was reborn in the Brahmā heaven.”

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

“Perhaps you all wish to know who King Fangji was at that time. He was none other than this bhikshu”—indicating the son of good family—“while the seer Nālai was I in a former life! We met in a past age, and now we meet again in this life!”

When the Buddha had given this teaching, every bhikshu rejoiced.

Sutra 2: The Buddha Speaks the Sutra of the Alms-Begging Bhikshu

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was journeying and teaching in Prince Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s Park, in the kingdom of Śrāvastī, together with an assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty great bhikshus.

At that time, a bhikshu went from place to place seeking alms with many other bhikshus. Proceeding from house to house in order, he entered the home of a licentious woman. When the woman saw the bhikshu arrive at her home, she became delighted and bustled about, hastening to welcome him. She bowed at the bhikshu’s feet, invited him to take a seat, and then asked:

“Venerable sir, from where have you come?”

The bhikshu replied:

“I am an alms seeker who has come here to beg for food.”

The woman immediately prepared many delicious foods and filled his alms bowl as an offering. After accepting the offering, the bhikshu departed. Having received an ample bowlful of delicious food, he was greatly delighted and could not restrain himself; thus, he regularly went only to the house of that licentious woman to seek alms. The woman thought, “That bhikshu will find it difficult to uphold the Dharma.”

She constantly prepared delicious and nourishing foods for the bhikshu, who came and went there continually. His learning was not yet thorough, he lacked sufficient strength in the path of practice, and he had not yet subdued his faculties. When that alms-seeking bhikshu saw the licentious woman’s lovely beauty, lustful thoughts arose in him. His heart became unrestrained, and he was infatuated with her. His mouth uttered tender and affectionate words, while his mind continually dwelt upon love; and her replies, too, were wholly attentive and affectionate.

The alms-seeking bhikshu went there every day. Because his eyes constantly beheld her beauty and his ears continually heard her sweet voice, his lustful thoughts became agitated and confused. Deluded and bewildered, he understood nothing at all.

As stated in the Buddha’s scripture: “When the eyes behold beauty, the heart is stirred by illicit desire.” The Blessed One also taught: “When looking upon women, regard an elderly woman as your mother, a middle-aged woman as your elder sister, and a young woman as your younger sister or daughter. You should contemplate that within the body there is nothing but mucus and foul impurities, with nothing worthy of love. Outwardly, the body resembles a painted vessel, yet nothing within it is clean.

You should contemplate: this body is formed through the conjunction of causes and conditions from the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—and is originally without true existence.”

That bhikshu had not yet understood the contemplation of emptiness. Enticed by beauty, his lustful thoughts remained continually agitated, and for the sake of that licentious woman he spoke this verse:

In youthful bloom, the maiden is ever radiant;

Her features upright, becoming lovelier still.

Her beauty surpasses that of all others;

With you I vow to live in faithful love.

When the licentious woman heard the bhikshu speak in this way, she reflected that, as one who did not understand that cruel lust runs contrary to the strict observance of the pure precepts, she herself incurred no offense; but for a practitioner, the offense would become still graver. Therefore, taking her cue from his words, she carefully chose her reply. She answered in verse:

I bring you rice and drink,

Fragrant flowers and fine robes;

With these things I make offerings—

Is this not yet enough?

The bhikshu immediately answered her in verse:

I possess no wealth;

Observe the way I live:

I beg for food to sustain my life,

And wish that we might dwell together.

The licentious woman spoke this verse:

Supposing a man has neither livelihood nor work,

Why firmly seek what is so difficult to attain?

If you do not know shame or remorse,

Then quickly depart from my house.

She immediately expelled the bhikshu and drove him all the way to the gate of Jetavana Monastery. Seeing this, the other bhikshus went directly to the Buddha, reported the entire matter to the Blessed One, and asked him to explain its origin and conclusion. The Buddha said that in a previous life the bhikshu had been a softshell turtle, while the licentious woman had been a female monkey.

They were strongly attracted to each other but could not fulfill their desire. They then turned to deceiving and troubling one another and did not follow the path of right teaching; consequently, they continued to suffer hardships and pain in this way. The bhikshu’s intention and aspiration had been to join with the licentious woman, but his wish was not fulfilled.

Instead, he was humiliated and departed in shame.

The Buddha related:

“Countless kalpas ago, in the remote past, a softshell turtle lived in a great river. The trees along the riverbank grew lush and dense, and within that thick forest a female monkey made her dwelling. Whenever the softshell turtle surfaced from the water, it saw the female monkey in the distant grove. It began conversing with her and, little by little, gradually drew closer, wishing to become intimate with her. They came and went and saw one another every day; day after day it was always thus. The turtle gazed at her without ever tiring and conceived illicit desire. Its heart became deluded and defiled, yet it was unable to recognize this in itself. It then lamented in verse:

Red and golden is your complexion, and your eyes are blue;

Among the trees you freely delight in leaves and branches.

I wish to know whether this fur is smooth and glossy;

How I long to have you always by my side.

The female monkey answered in verse:

I now know you clearly, lord softshell turtle,

A prince of great intelligence and many talents!

Why have you now come to ask about me?

Hearing your question, doubt arises in my heart.

The softshell turtle expressed itself in verse:

My heart dreams longingly of your form;

Yearning for affection has truly thrown my mind into turmoil.

It is because I miss and cherish you that I ask:

By what means might I come together with you?

The female monkey answered in verse:

Softshell turtle, you know that I dwell in trees;

I cannot unite with you.

If you wish to meet and take pleasure with me,

Come up here, and I shall provide for you fully.

Then the softshell turtle spoke another verse:

I sustain this body on fish and flesh,

Enticing and delicious, far better than fruit.

How could I forsake them to seek food hard to swallow?

Yet for your sake, I must take this scattered blossom in my mouth.

The female monkey answered in verse:

Supposing you were a man dwelling in a great tree,

How could I fail to come when you sought me?

But now you gaze at me without the slightest shame;

Quickly depart—how can you bear to keep looking?

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

“The female monkey of those former days is now this licentious woman, and the softshell turtle is this alms-seeking bhikshu. In the past he was unrestrained and desired such things without fulfilling his wish; even now it is still the same!”

When the Buddha had taught in this way, the bhikshus joyfully received and understood it.

Sutra 3: The Buddha Teaches the Sutra of He Nan

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Prince Jeta’s Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, in the kingdom of Shravasti, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikshus.

At that time there was a son of the Shakya clan named He Nan. He wished to have many disciples; therefore, whenever anyone wanted to renounce the household life, he did not concern himself with that person’s conduct or background. He would simply shave off the person’s hair and beard, make him a shramana, and confer the complete precepts upon him.

He did not inquire into the circumstances: where the person had come from, who his parents were, whether he was virtuous or wicked, good or bad, knowledgeable or ignorant. So long as someone presented himself, He Nan shaved his head and conferred the full ordination upon him. He wanted only to have many disciples and gave no thought to later troubles.

He should have thoroughly investigated where each person came from, observed his conduct, and guarded against impostors infiltrating the community, so that there would be no subsequent regret. But the bhikshu He Nan accepted no one’s admonitions; whenever he encountered someone, he immediately shaved his head and allowed him to renounce the household life.

At that time there was a wicked man, the son of a fraudulent gambler. He heard it said that the Shakyan He Nan possessed many robes and alms bowls and was also very eager to have numerous disciples, so he went to request instruction from him. He Nan did not ask about his origins or where he had come from, but simply shaved his head. The man himself was hungry and cold and had no means of livelihood; he wished to go there to practice deception. Having already devised a scheme in his mind, he went directly to He Nan. Solemn and respectful, he bowed his head in homage and displayed proper deportment and observance of the rules. Whether standing or sitting, he behaved correctly, without the slightest carelessness or haste. The Shakyan He Nan told him:

“To become a shramana, one must live in seclusion, free from sorrow and anxiety. Intimacy with sensual desire is not wholesome. One who is indolent and neglects cultivation lacks understanding and will be ruined by sensual desire. The more one pursues sensual desire, the more it brings manifold sorrows, entanglements, and calamities. One who clings greedily to sensual desire cannot be delivered.”

He replied:

“I myself cannot cast aside sensual desire to become a shramana.”

He Nan asked again:

“Why are you unwilling to become a shramana? Becoming a shramana brings many benefits. You have already formed the intention to renounce the household life and become a shramana. As for your learning and virtuous conduct, I shall assist you.”

He replied:

“I shall obey the Master’s teaching, put an end to all anxiety and sorrow, and live in secluded ease as a śramaṇa.”

Thus, his beard and hair were shaved off, and he received the full precepts. Because his motive for becoming a śramaṇa was ulterior, he took pains to present himself well. He was respectful, agreeable, and diligent in cultivation, never showing laziness; he was patient and followed every instruction.

At that time, Hòa Nan believed that he could trust and support him. He did not scrutinize his conduct or harbor the slightest suspicion, but placed absolute trust in him. Therefore, the Śākya clansman Hòa Nan entrusted all his robes, alms bowl, and other offerings to his care, and then went out to travel and teach, his mind at ease and free of all concern.

Remaining at the dwelling, the man gathered up all the robes, bowls, and offerings, hurriedly hid them in a secret place, and then assembled with a band of cheating gamblers to eat and drink. When Hòa Nan heard what this new disciple had done, he immediately returned. Finding the dwelling empty and all its possessions stolen, he questioned everyone nearby and searched even in crowded places, but could not find him.

He learned only that the man was the son of a cheating gambler, a violent ruffian who had pretended to be a śramaṇa and deceitfully defrauded his master in order to steal his property. Everyone said, “Master, you were too hasty! Without clearly investigating his origins, you shaved his head and admitted him into the monastic life.

Now he has seized your property, fled into hiding somewhere, and is reveling with a band of cheating gamblers!”

When Hòa Nan learned the truth about him, he feared there was nothing he could do, and so the Śākya clansman Hòa Nan silently endured all his grief. When the bhikshus heard of the matter, they reported it fully to the Buddha. The Great Sage then told the bhikshus:

“That degenerate cheating gambler has not only in this life assumed the appearance of a virtuous monk in order to deceive others and seize their property; he did the same in a former life. Nor could the bhikshu Hòa Nan then relinquish his trust in him.”

The Buddha recounted:

“In the distant past, in the city of Rājagṛha, there was a respectable man who entered a brothel, where he ate, drank, sang, and reveled with prostitutes. Before long, his wealth was dissipated, for the women had taken all of it. Though nothing remained, he returned to the brothel. The prostitutes drove him away, but he shouted abuse and refused to leave. At last, one of the prostitutes firmly expelled him from the house. He then set out to devise some means of acquiring wealth, but though he went back and forth, he found nothing.

“Determined to seek wealth, he journeyed on one occasion to the land of Uất-đan. Although he reached that country, he was a stranger there and knew nothing about it. At that time, there lived in Uất-đan a great venerable man who possessed immeasurable wealth and precious jewels. Pretending to be an honest and virtuous man, he went directly to the venerable man and said:

“‘I am a merchant who guided many people from my country to this place, bringing wealth and precious jewels with us. Along the road, we encountered wicked men who robbed us of all our property, leaving us impoverished and in the direst peril, unable to sustain our lives. I alone barely escaped with my life and fled here with all speed. I beg permission to take refuge with you and serve you, Venerable Sir.’

“The venerable man saw that his deportment was orderly, that he walked and stood properly, and that he bore the dignified air of a virtuous man. He therefore believed him to be genuinely good. From then on, the man resolved to present himself as wise and intelligent, eloquent, capable in all his actions, diligent, perceptive, sensitive, and quick.

To please the venerable man greatly, he carefully guarded his mind and never behaved heedlessly. Whatever task he performed, he carried it through properly, and there was nothing he failed to accomplish. His bodily conduct was pure, and his speech was gentle and entirely free of coarseness, consisting wholly of skillful and gracious words.

Everyone who saw this was greatly delighted. All the members of the venerable man’s household, both young and old, cherished and praised him. Seeing this, the venerable man was highly pleased and placed his trust in him, for his conduct appeared faultless.

Observing that the man’s virtues were excellent both inwardly and outwardly, without the slightest defect, the venerable man encouraged and assisted him in every undertaking. He treated him with the utmost respect and never slighted him, placing complete trust in him and regarding him as a brother, without any distinction. Everything was dealt with openly, without the slightest suspicion of deceit.

Not long after gaining his confidence and obtaining control of a large amount of property, the man seized it and took it away. Loading all that precious wealth onto carts, he returned to the city of Rājagṛha, where he ate, drank, and reveled to his heart’s content with the prostitutes.

“When the venerable man no longer saw him at the house, he sent people to search everywhere, but no one knew where the man had gone. Upon examining the treasury, they discovered that a great amount of wealth and countless precious jewels were missing. Seeing that his property had been stolen, the venerable man again sent people to search everywhere, but still they could not find him. Only much later did he hear rumors that the man had returned to the city of Rājagṛha and was reveling with prostitutes. That son of a cheating gambler was no eminent householder and was not at all the sort of man the venerable man had imagined him to be. The venerable man searched everywhere but could not find him. Deeply angry with himself, he uttered this verse of lamentation:

He was no virtuous gentleman,

Though elegant in outward guise;

His clever words concealed deceit—

Such people should not be trusted.

When outward conduct is observed,

They seem exceedingly gentle and good;

But the wise must guard against the future

And examine them with utmost care.

Only then is their evil nature revealed,

When such scoundrels enact their schemes;

Yet I could not bear to turn away,

As though consuming poisoned food.

Why, then, did I not distinguish clearly?

All affection has now dissolved.

The wise must know how to discern

When assistance should be given.

Just now, as happened to me,

I trusted one who practiced deceit;

Feigning virtue with a pleasing manner,

He seized my wealth and fled.

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

“The venerable man of that time was none other than the present bhikshu Hòa Nan. The deceiver was none other than the present son of the cheating gambler, who pretended to be a śramaṇa and defrauded Hòa Nan. They plundered one another in a former life, and so it is again in this life.”

When the Buddha had given this teaching, everyone joyfully received and understood it.

Sūtra 4: The Buddha’s Teaching on Making a Living Through Wrong Livelihood

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Prince Jeta’s Grove, in Anāthapiṇḍada’s Park, in the kingdom of Śrāvastī, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikshus.

At that time, the Śākya clansman Hòa Nan taught scriptures to people concerning all manner of livelihood, speaking only about food and clothing. On many other occasions, he taught only about meritorious deeds and their karmic consequences, never discoursing upon the sublime meaning of wisdom within the Dharma. By these means, he obtained many provisions of food and clothing, but strayed far from the path of the noble sages.

He spoke at length about worldly food and drink, and when carried away by enthusiasm, he said things that should not have been said, without touching upon the vast wisdom of the Dharma that transcends birth and death. When the bhikshus saw that this bhikshu, upon going to people’s homes on alms rounds, taught only about worldly matters and offerings of food, drink, and robes, they reproached and admonished him. The commotion spread until those who were studying under him heard of it, and they too joined in reproaching and admonishing such conduct.

They discussed among themselves:

“What is a worthy person? The Blessed One, the Great Sage, personally realized unsurpassed perfect enlightenment and thereby demonstrated that noble attainment. He taught the world the profound and wondrous Dharma, difficult to reach and difficult to understand, and proclaimed everywhere the sublime teaching: free from mindfulness and conceptualization, the mind detached from name and form, one attains peaceful concentration and brings all suffering and affliction to an end.

Those of clear understanding who have attained the Way have, throughout innumerable hundreds of thousands of myriads of kotis of kalpas, formerly followed the Buddhas, received and upheld the true Dharma, and all reached the realm of peace and tranquility. Yet some bhiksus, having heard the true Dharma and gained faith while living at home, leave home to follow the Way, only to devote themselves instead to expounding worldly scriptures.

Filled with deluded thoughts and craving, they raise all manner of vulgar matters concerning food and drink, utterly devoid of meaning. Only those far removed from the path of the noble and worthy would do such things!”

The bhiksus then went and reported this to the Blessed One.

The Buddha told the bhiksus:

“He is no sramana, nor are these the actions of one who has left home and received full ordination. He merely depends upon the Dharma for his livelihood and seeks only food and clothing; he has never known how to teach or guide others.”

At that time, the Buddha, the Blessed One, used innumerable examples to rebuke such conduct as contrary to the teaching. He told the bhiksus:

“This Sakyan, Hòa Nan, is a foolish man. It is not only in this present life that he has extensively discoursed on the worldly benefits of food and clothing in order to gain fame and induce people to make offerings to him. He did the same in a former life as well.

“Long ago in the distant past, in an exceedingly secluded place, many seers dwelt together. Among them was a foolish and benighted seer who lacked wisdom and whose own mind was obstructed. When he taught kings, crown princes, and officials, he spoke only of food and drink, rare delicacies, and garments of every kind, never discussing the principles of the Way.

He also knew how to choose favorable circumstances: whenever he saw wealthy and eminent persons with carriages and horses, he would intercept them and approach them to preach scriptures. Or he would seek out deluded people to preach scriptures to them. Or, taking advantage of some obstruction or hardship, he would approach others to preach scriptures.

Or, because of the delicious food and fine clothing of the worldly, he would approach and praise them in order to preach scriptures. Because of these actions, people offered him all manner of rare delicacies.

“At that time, a brahmin follower of another path saw these things and therefore expounded scriptures to the king, the crown prince, and the great ministers. From afar, the seers saw the carriage of that deluded seer approaching, and they went to inform their preceptor and the other seers. On hearing this, the seers all reproached and admonished him, declaring that such conduct was wrong. When the foremost preceptor, a seer who had attained the five superknowledges, inquired fully into the matter, the bodhisattva—the seer possessing the five superknowledges—immediately rebuked them:

“‘You should not act in this way! If that man has committed unrighteous deeds and we in turn malign him, neither side will be acting well. This is not proper conduct. Moreover, to preach such scriptures is to depart from the standing of the noble and worthy and is inconsistent with the sacred texts. Should those who listen to and accept them do so? Both parties will thereby fall into ruin!’”

Concerning Hòa Nan, the Buddha spoke these verses:

Neither side understands the meaning;

Both alike fall into ruin.

One teaches the Dharma with mistaken meaning,

And one hears the scripture without clear understanding.

It is exceedingly difficult to judge the world;

A seer expounds worldly scriptures,

Seeking gain and profit for himself,

Not knowing the proper way to offer praise.

He eats rice fragrant and delicious,

And meat consisting wholly of nourishing delicacies,

While still relying upon the noble and worthy

In order to discourse upon canonical texts.

My aspiration lies in seclusion;

My sustenance consists of fruits and vegetables.

I delight in this manner of life;

Seers delight in this Dharma.

They praise the path of quiescent cessation.

Whoever wishes to become a good brahmin

Should discipline his own deportment,

And take no delight in delusion.

With few desires and knowing contentment,

He leaves home to become a mendicant.

One should live in this way

And not transgress the scriptural Dharma.

The Buddha told the bhiksus:

“You surely wish to know who, at that time, used fine food and beautiful clothing as subjects for preaching and said nothing about the Dharma. He was none other than the Sakyan Hòa Nan of today. Those preceptors who practiced pure conduct are now this assembly of bhiksus. The seer who attained the five superknowledges was I myself. We encountered one another in a former life, and we have encountered one another again in this life.”

When the Buddha had given this teaching, all the bhiksus joyfully received and understood it.

Sutra 5: The Buddha’s Discourse on the Sutra of “What Is Mine”

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Jeta’s Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, in the kingdom of Sravasti, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhiksus.

At that time, there was an elderly householder whose wealth was beyond measure, possessing untold quantities of gold, silver, jewels, and precious objects. Yet he lived in hardship and deprivation, enduring hunger and thirst, cold and heat. He continually struggled with difficulties, anxiously planning how to deal with every calamity, paying no heed to moral principles in order to amass this fortune.

Though wealthy, he refused to spend anything. He did not know how to give alms or make offerings; he did not support his mother and father or adequately provide for his wife, children, and servants. If his family, relatives, and neighbors, both within and outside his household, received not the slightest benefit from him, how much less would he practice generosity to create merit!

He wore only coarse and inferior garments and ate spoiled food. His mind was constantly reluctant to part with his possessions. His parents lacked necessities, his wife and children suffered hunger and cold, and his household had no dealings with anyone inside or outside it.

He was always afraid that such people would cause him trouble. Whenever they asked him for anything, he displayed only stinginess, greed, and attachment to his wealth. He was indeed a man lacking merit and wisdom, concerned solely with guarding his own share and unwilling to help anyone.

While alive, whether unintentionally or deliberately, he accumulated immeasurable wealth and treasure without ever making use of it. When his life ended, because he had no heir, all his property was confiscated for the royal treasury. The Blessed One told the bhiksus:

“You have surely heard of this ordinary and foolish man who acquired great wealth but did not spend it, did not support his mother and father, and did not provide for his wife, children, servants, or guests. In the end, he gained not the slightest benefit from it, but instead suffered loss.”

On hearing this, all the bhiksus said to the Buddha:

“Yes, indeed, Blessed One. There was a householder named X whose wealth and possessions were truly beyond measure. He refused to make use of them, did not support his mother and father, did not provide for his wife, children, and servants, and did not know how to practice generosity. One day he died, and all his property was transferred to the royal treasury.”

The Buddha told the bhiksus:

“That elderly householder was not stingy and attached to his wealth only in this life; he was the same in a former life as well.”

The Buddha related:

-In the distant past, on Great Fragrant Mountain grew many long-pepper trees, a source of medicine and pepper. In one of these trees lived a bird named Mine. When spring came, the medicinal fruits ripened, and people came to gather them for food and medicine to cure illnesses. The bird Mine then cried out in lamentation: “Those are my fruits! Do not take them; I do not want you to pick them!” Despite the bird’s cries, the people continued gathering the fruits, paying no heed to its voice. The bird, being of scant merit, remained sorrowful and cried without ceasing, and thus it died.

The Buddha told the bhiksus:

-So it is indeed! The foolish person of that time was one of inferior faculties and understanding, who lived only to amass wealth, without regard for right or wrong, devoting himself to accumulating possessions. But when death comes one day, none of that wealth can be taken along. It was like that bird named Mine: seeing that the long-pepper fruits and the other medicinal plants had ripened, it cried out in lamentation, “They all belong to me!” Yet the people continued to gather them, and it could not stop them.

The Blessed One then spoke this verse:

There was a bird named Mine,

Dwelling on Fragrant Mountain.

When the delicious fruits ripened,

It cried, “Those are mine!”

Hearing its cries resound,

Flocks of birds all gathered there.

The people picked the fruits and left,

And the bird Mine grew resentful.

Human beings are no different:

They accumulate excessive wealth,

Yet are unwilling to spend it,

And, like the bird, practice no giving.

Officials and vicious bandits,

Enemies, fire, and flood

May burn it up or carry it away,

As the bird’s fruits were lost.

While living, they care not for food or clothing,

Nor do they concern themselves with beds;

Yet incense and flowers are offered everywhere—

Thus do they come to possess such things.

Having obtained a human body,

They return again to their lineage;

At death, all must be abandoned,

And nothing can be taken along.

Therefore, one must cultivate virtue

And give thought to the life to come.

Those who create abundant merit and virtue

Will await their fruits in a future life.

Otherwise, when death arrives,

Their hearts will burn with anguish.

If formerly we lived heedlessly,

We should now cultivate virtue.

The Buddha told the bhiksus:

-You should know that the bird Mine at that time is now this householder. Therefore, you bhiksus must diligently cultivate and study. You should not be miserly or cling greedily to possessions. Cast off the defilement of stinginess and constantly cultivate pure conduct. This is the teaching of all Buddhas.

When the Buddha had spoken this teaching, everyone rejoiced and accepted it.

Sutra 6: The Buddha’s Teaching on the Story of the Wild Rooster

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Jeta Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, in the kingdom of Sravasti, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhiksus.

At that time, the Buddha told the bhiksus:

-In the past, many lifetimes ago, a wildcat lived in a dense forest. When the time came for her to give birth, she could not forage for food and became faint with hunger. Seeing a handsome and beautiful wild rooster high in a tree, she pretended to be benevolent and compassionate. Dragging herself along and panting heavily, she drew the attention of both people and animals. Harboring the malicious intention of taking the wild rooster’s life, the wildcat slowly approached the foot of the tree and praised him with sweet words:

Silent, you wear a distant look,

Eating fish and dressed in finery.

Come down now to the ground;

I wish to be joined with you.

The wild rooster replied in verse:

You possess all four legs,

While my body has but two.

Cats and chickens are of different kinds;

They should not become husband and wife.

The wildcat spoke this verse:

I have traveled to many places,

Through districts, counties, and kingdoms,

But found no one who pleased me;

You alone delight my heart.

Your body is truly trim and handsome,

Your bearing beyond compare.

I too am lovely and gentle,

Youthful and pure.

Let us rejoice together,

Like chickens roaming at play.

If both our hearts are satisfied,

Why should we not delight in it?

The wild rooster replied:

How could I not know you?

What is it that you desire?

Until all matters are perfectly clear,

The wise do not make merry.

The wildcat said again:

If you consent, take me as your wife;

If you refuse, it will be like a cudgel striking your head.

No matter how poor you may be,

You will become rich as though jewels rained down.

Drawing close to kin and descendants,

You will gain immeasurable wealth.

Drawing close to a loving family,

You will enjoy lasting peace and security.

The wild rooster replied:

My mind is resolved: I shall follow you—

You whose blue eyes are like malignant sores;

It would be as though bound in fetters,

As though confined within a prison.

The blue-eyed cat said:

If you will not be of one mind with me,

Why speak such piercing words?

Do you harbor some hidden purpose?

My heart is overwhelmed with sorrow.

My virtue is renowned;

How could I leave behind any foul stain?

What, do you mean to abandon me?

Then I shall depart for a distant land.

The wild rooster replied:

You lure others far away,

Fierce and wicked as a python.

Though your fur is soft and smooth,

I do not wish to become your mate.

The wildcat said:

Come straight down here at once;

I have something to explain.

We shall consult with our relatives

And inform our parents.

The wild rooster replied:

My wife is still young,

Graceful and kindhearted,

Of proper conduct and virtuous character;

How could my heart bear to leave her?

The wildcat said:

Here discipline is strictly taught,

And domestic fowl follow the true doctrine.

With elders honored in the household,

Rules and propriety are upheld.

The willow tree outside the veranda

Is revered by everyone;

It flourishes throughout the year,

As brahmins tend the sacred fire.

With the influence of my family,

We shall attend upon the brahmins;

We will be blessed with many descendants

And also obtain abundant treasures.

The wild rooster replied:

May Heaven fulfill that wish of yours

By having a brahmin beat you with a staff!

What principle exists in this world

That makes you wish to eat a chicken?

The wildcat said again:

I shall not eat flesh;

I reveal my wholesome intention.

Following the teachings for worshiping the devas,

I hope to accomplish this deed.

The wild rooster again replied in verse:

I have never heard or seen

A wildcat undertake religious practice.

You wish to destroy me quickly;

“Eating chicken” is your dream.

Trees and fruits are separate things;

Your feigned smile and fine words

Will never earn my trust.

How could you fail to eat a chicken?

Your evil nature is wholly exposed;

Your face is dark red like blood,

And your eyes are blue as indigo.

You must continue eating mice.

You will never get to eat a chicken;

Why do you not go catch mice?

Blue-eyed and red-faced—

At the cry of “Cat!”

All my feathers stand on end.

I must swiftly flee.

Lifetime after lifetime I shall remain far from you;

How could I ever wish to meet you?

The wildcat then said again:

Goodness does not lie in facial appearance,

Nor does beauty and grace.

One must examine conduct and deportment

And see whether merit and virtue are cultivated.

I possess every worthy quality,

As well as resourcefulness and intelligence.

My family background and knowledge of affairs are evident;

No one has ever been my equal.

Every day I dress beautifully,

And I bathe and wash myself often.

I shall arrange jubilant singing and dancing,

If only I obtain your protection.

For you I shall comb my hair

And carefully wash your feet.

Will you not come here and watch the amusements?

It will not be too late then to love me.

The wild rooster replied:

My heart is filled with self-respect,

Which makes me fear one who would comb my head.

If I were to draw close to you,

I would surely not live long.

The Buddha told the bhiksus:

-You should know that the wildcat of that time is now the bhiksu Cancā, while the rooster was I in a former life. We encountered one another in a former existence, and it is the same in this life.

When the Buddha had spoken this teaching, everyone rejoiced and accepted it.

Sutra 7: The Buddha’s Teaching on the Dispute over a Maiden in a Former Life

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Jeta Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, in Sravasti, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhiksus.

At that time, Devadatta harbored malicious thoughts, considered himself to have attained the Way, and slandered the Tathagata. Everyone rebuked him. Devas, nagas, ghosts, spirits, Sakra, Brahma, the Four Heavenly Kings—all of them admonished him:

—You should not harbor any thought of harming the Tathagata, nor should you slander the Blessed One. The Buddha is the Most Honored One among all beings in the three realms. He has realized the unobstructed wisdom of the three penetrations, and there is no one in heaven or on earth who does not take refuge in Him. How could you slander Him? The gravity of such an offense is truly immeasurable! Your wish to malign the Buddha is no different from stretching out your hand to seize the sun and moon; from trying to surpass Mount Sumeru with a single speck of dust; or from attempting to measure empty space with a single hair.

Devadatta heard these words of counsel, yet his mind remained unrepentant. The bhikshus then reported the matter to the Buddha and asked:

—What grievance does Devadatta bear that he harbors such profound resentment against You?

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

—Devadatta has behaved this way not only in this life, but throughout many lives.

The Buddha recounted:

—In the distant past, countless kalpas ago, there was a very wealthy brahmin whose possessions were beyond measure. He had a beautiful daughter, upright and gentle, whose loveliness was without equal. The brahmins regarded his family as an eminent lineage and held that, as the maiden was still a virgin, she should be matched with someone well versed in the scriptures.

At that time, the brahmin invited five hundred fellow students to his home and made offerings to them for three months so that he might examine their learning. Among these five hundred was one whose wisdom surpassed all the others. He had mastered the three scriptures, possessed extensive knowledge of the five classics, and expressed himself clearly and in accordance with scriptural meaning.

When questioned and tested for faults, he left no room for doubt, and so he was invited to occupy the highest seat. However, he was exceedingly old and ugly in appearance, and his two eyes were blue, so that he scarcely looked human. The brahmin and his wife were sorrowful, while their daughter was also distressed and anxious.

How could she become husband and wife with such a man? She feared him as though he were a demon.

While they still did not know what to do, a young and handsome brahmin arrived from a distant region. This brahmin was thoroughly versed in the three scriptures and had mastered the five classics. He understood astronomy and geography and comprehended every auspicious and inauspicious portent.

He also knew the six forms of gambling and various strange magical arts, and could determine whether a child in the womb was male or female and whether the birth would be difficult or easy. He cherished compassion for beings throughout the ten directions, even for every creature that walked, flew, crawled, or stirred, and always manifested the four immeasurable minds: loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity.

He had heard that the very wealthy brahmin belonged to a renowned lineage, had invited five hundred fellow students to receive offerings for three months, and wished to give his daughter in marriage. He therefore went directly to that household. He posed difficult questions to the other brahmins, leaving them bewildered and unable to find any reply.

The wisdom of those five hundred could not equal his, and they had no choice but to yield the highest seat to the young brahmin. Seeing this, the maiden and her parents were all greatly delighted, believing that after seeking a husband for her for so long, their wish had now been fulfilled. The venerable brahmin said:

—I am now advanced in years and have long wished to find a husband for my daughter. If today, in accordance with my wish, I give my daughter to you as your wife, you should have affection for me in my old age and must not humiliate or mistreat her.

The young brahmin replied:

—I cannot transgress proper conduct and must act in accordance with human affection. I accept, and I know what my duty toward you shall be.

When the three months of offerings had ended, the wealthy brahmin gave his daughter to the young brahmin. The elderly brahmin then harbored a malicious thought: “You have humiliated me and stolen my wife. Life after life I shall bear resentment against you, seeking ways to harm and disgrace you. I shall never leave you in peace.”

The young brahmin always manifested a mind of loving-kindness and compassion, while the elderly brahmin continued to harbor a malicious heart.

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

—The elderly brahmin of that time is now Devadatta; the young brahmin was none other than I; and the maiden was Gopi. A bond formed in a former life is difficult to untangle in the present one.

When the Buddha had taught this, all the bhikshus joyfully received and understood it.

Sutra 8: The Buddha Teaches the Account of the Jewel That Fell into the Sea

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was dwelling on Vulture Peak near the city of Rajagriha, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikshus. All these great sages had attained supernormal powers.

At that time, the bhikshus gathered in the Dharma hall and discussed among themselves:

—Throughout countless kalpas, our Blessed One constantly practiced with diligence and never grew indolent. No longer bound by the tribulations of birth and death within the five destinies, He earnestly sought enlightenment in order to save all beings. Through His constant diligence, He advanced by nine kalpas and attained unsurpassed, complete, perfect enlightenment, becoming the Supremely and Perfectly Awakened One. We, who have only recently received His gracious teaching and deliverance, should follow His example in our practice.

From afar, the Buddha heard the bhikshus’ discussion. He then went to the Dharma hall and asked what they had been discussing. The bhikshus replied:

—We were discussing how lofty and immeasurable the Blessed One’s merit is. Throughout many kalpas, You constantly practiced with diligence and never became discouraged. You never turned away from hardship but labored assiduously and endured suffering in pursuit of the path, so that You might save the multitude of beings without abandoning any of them along the way. You personally attained Buddhahood, and through Your grace we have been delivered.

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

—It is indeed just as you have said. Throughout countless kalpas, I earnestly and diligently sought the path without the slightest laziness. Out of compassion for beings, I wished to deliver them and enable them to attain liberation. Through that diligence, I advanced by nine kalpas and attained Buddhahood before the advent of Maitreya Buddha.

I recall that in a past life, countless kalpas ago, I saw that the people of the country were extremely poor and destitute. Taking pity on them, I wondered how I might help them obtain sufficient food and necessities. I thought that I would have to enter the sea and find a wish-fulfilling jewel before I could hope to aid them.

I therefore had drums beaten and bells rung, calling for all who wished to enter the sea in search of precious jewels. A great many people assembled. When they were about to board the ship, I clearly instructed them: “This voyage across the sea requires you to leave your parents far behind, relinquish attachment to your wives and children, and regard your own life and death lightly.

Only those capable of doing so may join our company.” The reason was that there were three dangers in the great sea: first, there were enormous fish in the ocean, as long as twenty-eight thousand leagues; second, spirits and rakshasas constantly sought to overturn and sink our ship; and third, the mountains could be shaken. I stated these things so that no one would later harbor resentment or reproach me.

As soon as they heard this, they all lost heart. Only five hundred people remained resolute and determined to depart. They observed the direction of the wind, raised the sails, boarded the ship, and set forth, traveling directly to the sea realm of the Dragon King to seek first the wish-fulfilling jewel. The Dragon King saw that they had diligently endured hardship to reach the sea because they wished to help the poor and destitute, and so he gave them the jewel. Each of the jewel seekers then gathered precious treasures. When they had obtained enough, they boarded the ship to return home. The dragons in the sea and the spirits discussed among themselves:

—This wish-fulfilling jewel is the most precious treasure in the sea. It cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of worldly people. Why should the great sea suffer loss for the benefit of Jambudvipa?

They became resentful and sought a way to seize it back, unwilling to let the precious jewel remain in human hands. At that time, the dragons and spirits surrounded them in many circles day and night, determined to seize that precious jewel. The Guide who led the people seeking the jewel possessed lofty awe-inspiring virtue.

Although the spirits and dragons wished to overturn the ship and seize the wish-fulfilling jewel, they lacked the power to do so. The Guide and the five hundred people who had gone to obtain the jewel all crossed the sea safely. Rejoicing, the bodhisattva—the Guide—had the ship stop by the seashore.

He bowed his head, lowered his hands, and pronounced an invocation to the sea deity, with the precious jewels tied around his neck. At that moment, the dragons and spirits seized the opportunity and caused all the precious jewels to fall into the sea.

The Guide was deeply grieved and thought: “I endured unspeakable hardship and suffering on this sea voyage, entering the ocean to obtain these treasures so that I might relieve everyone’s hunger. Now the sea deity has cast them into the depths!” He then ordered his attendant to bring implements at once so that he could draw away the seawater down to the muddy seabed, declaring that he would not stop until the precious jewels were found.

Once the implements for drawing away the seawater had been brought, he exerted all his strength, heedless of hardship and sparing not even his own life, causing the water to be drawn naturally into those implements. When the spirits and dragons saw this, they all became afraid, thinking that such imposing might and power of diligent effort were truly beyond what any ordinary person could possess. If they allowed him to continue drawing away the water, the sea would soon be exhausted.

Thinking thus, they immediately brought the precious jewels back, returned them to him, and apologized:

“We failed to measure our own strength and did not understand that the Guide’s power of diligent effort is unequaled beneath heaven!”

Having recovered the treasures, he returned to his country. He contemplated them and prayed that the heavens would rain down the seven kinds of treasure. He then used those riches to provide for all beneath heaven, enabling everyone to live in happiness and abundance.

The Buddha said:

“The Guide at that time was none other than I in a former life, and the five hundred people who followed me to obtain the treasures are now my disciples. I guided everyone to advance diligently into the great ocean, obtain the treasures, and bring them back to aid all who were poor and suffering. Now I have attained Buddhahood, transcended birth and death, acquired immeasurable wisdom, and delivered sentient beings without leaving out a single kind.”

When the Buddha had spoken thus, all the bhiksus joyfully received and understood his teaching.

Sutra 9: The Buddha’s Discourse on the Bhiksuni Cinca Manavika Boci Slandering the Buddha

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Jeta Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, in the kingdom of Sravasti, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhiksus.

At that time, King Prasenajit invited the Buddha and the bhiksus to the palace to receive a meal. The Buddha, together with the great bhiksus and bodhisattvas, departed from the grove, surrounded by devas, dragons, spirits, ghosts, and their retinues. Sakra, Lord of the Devas, Brahma, and the Four Heavenly Kings scattered incense and flowers, played heavenly music as offerings from above, and sprinkled fragrant water upon the ground. As the Buddha and the great assembly were entering the city of Sravasti and proceeding directly toward the royal palace, a bhiksuni named Boci, who had tied a piece of wood against her belly to make herself appear pregnant, approached, pulled at the Buddha’s robe, and cried out:

“You are my husband! Since we became husband and wife, you have never provided me with clothing or food. Why is this so?”

At that time, all those in the great assembly—devas and humans, Sakra, Brahma, the Four Heavenly Kings, the other devas and spirits, and the people of the kingdom—were utterly astonished. They all knew that the Buddha was the Most Honored One of the three realms, that his mind was ever purer than a mani jewel, and that his wisdom shone more brightly than the sun and moon. He walked alone throughout the three realms, with no one able to equal him.

He subdued heterodox doctrines, and all ninety-six schools revered and submitted to him. His virtue was lofty, profound, majestic, and beyond description! Just as empty space, formless as it is, can never be defiled, so was the Buddha’s mind, surpassing even empty space, and no one could stand as his equal.

This bhiksuni was already a disciple of the Buddha; why, then, did she harbor such wicked intentions and seek to destroy the reputation of the Tathagata?

At that time, the Blessed One clearly perceived the thoughts of everyone present and, wishing to dispel their doubts, looked upward. Just then, Sakra descended and transformed himself into a small mouse. The mouse gnawed through the cord binding the piece of wood to Boci’s belly, causing it to fall to the ground.

When the people saw this, they were both angry and delighted, wondering how such an extraordinary affair could have occurred. King Prasenajit became enraged and declared that this bhiksuni had renounced her family and livelihood to become a disciple of the Buddha, yet instead of praising the immeasurable and boundless merit of the Tathagata, she had harbored jealousy and maligned the Great Sage! The king immediately ordered his attendants to dig a deep pit and bury her upside down.

The Buddha dissuaded the king, saying:

“Do not do so! This arose from karma I created in a former life; she alone is not responsible for seeking to harm me.”

The Buddha recounted:

“In the distant past, there was a merchant who sold many precious jewels. Those jewels were perfectly round and beautiful. At that time, a woman came to purchase some jewels, and they had nearly agreed upon the price when, by chance, a man arrived at the same moment, offered a higher price, purchased all the jewels, and then departed.

Unable to obtain the jewels, the woman became angry. Nevertheless, she went to the man and asked him to share some with her, but he firmly refused. She was filled with resentment and thought: ‘I came to buy the jewels first, while you arrived afterward, yet you seized and purchased them all.

Even when I asked you to share some with me, you refused! You have humiliated me. Life after life, I shall avenge this grievance.

You have disgraced me, and it will be too late for regret!’”

The Buddha said to the bhiksus, the king, and all the people:

“You should know that the man who purchased the jewels was none other than I in a former life, while the woman who sought to buy them is now Boci. Because she harbored that resentment, wherever she has been reborn, she has sought opportunities to slander me.”

When the Buddha had related this matter, everyone’s doubts were completely dispelled, and all joyfully received and understood his teaching.

Sutra 10: The Buddha’s Discourse on the Soft-Shelled Turtle and the Monkey King

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in Jeta Grove, Anathapindika’s Park, in the kingdom of Sravasti, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhiksus.

At that time, the bhiksus gathered together and discussed the matter:

“That bhiksuni Boci renounced her family and livelihood, left the household life to study the Way, and took refuge in the Three Jewels. The Buddha is her father, the Dharma is her mother, and the bhiksus are her brothers. Having originally devoted herself wholeheartedly to following the Dharma as a sramana, she should have cultivated in accordance with the path, eliminated the defilements of the three poisons, made offerings to and attended upon the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Bhiksu Sangha, shown compassion for sentient beings, and constantly practiced the four immeasurable states of mind; only then could she attain liberation. Yet instead, she harbored malicious intent, slandered the honored Buddha, and despised the Sangha. This is truly an unprecedented marvel!”

The Buddha clearly heard this discussion and therefore approached and asked the bhiksus:

“What matter are you discussing?”

The bhiksus reported to the Buddha all that they had discussed. The Buddha told them:

“That bhiksuni has not harbored malicious intent to harm the Tathagata only in this life; throughout many former lives, she also acted in this way.”

I recall that countless kalpas ago in the past, there was a monkey king who lived in a forest, eating fruit and drinking fresh water. His heart was always filled with compassion for all people and creatures, and he wished to deliver them all so that they might attain the unconditioned realm and liberation.

He became close friends with a soft-shelled turtle, and they respected one another without ever being at odds. From time to time, the turtle visited the monkey king, where they ate, drank, and discussed matters that were appropriate and in accord with principle. Seeing her husband go out repeatedly, the turtle’s wife suspected that he was having an affair and asked him:

“You have gone out many times. What have you been doing, and where? How can I be certain that you have not been behaving immorally and wantonly outside the home?”

The turtle replied to his wife:

“The monkey king and I have become close friends. He is intelligent and wise, and he understands principles as well. Whenever I leave home, I go directly to him. He and I discuss the teachings of the scriptures and speak only of what is right; we never behave wantonly.”

His wife did not believe what her husband said. She resented the monkey king for enticing her husband to visit him repeatedly, and so she conceived a scheme to kill the monkey. While her husband was at home, she feigned illness and lay bedridden. Her husband went to great trouble seeking physicians and medicines to treat her, but nothing proved effective. She said to him:

“Why trouble yourself and waste medicines? My illness is very grave. You must obtain the liver of your close friend the monkey and use it to treat me; only then shall I recover!”

Her husband replied:

“He is my close friend. We have entrusted our lives to one another without the slightest suspicion. How could I plot to take his liver to cure your illness?”

His wife said:

“As husband and wife, the two of us are one. Why will you not concern yourself with saving me?”

Betraying the monkey was contrary to righteousness, but because the turtle feared his wife and was pressured by her, he went to invite the monkey king. He said:

“I have visited your dwelling many times, yet you have never once honored my home with a visit. Today I invite you to my house for a meal.”

The monkey king replied:

“I live on land, while you live beneath the water. How could I come to your home?”

The turtle replied:

“I shall carry you on my back. That will work perfectly well!”

The monkey king agreed to accompany him. When they had gone halfway, the turtle said to the monkey king:

“You must wish to know why I came to invite you, do you not? My wife is gravely ill. She must obtain your liver and eat it before her illness can be cured.”

The monkey king said:

“Oh, so that is why! Why did you not tell me earlier? I hung my liver on a tree and did not bring it with me. Let me return to fetch it first.”

Thus, the two of them turned back. When they arrived, the monkey immediately leapt into the tree and joyfully bounded about. The turtle asked:

“Why do you not fetch your liver and bring it to my home? Why have you instead sprung into the tree and begun jumping about so restlessly?”

The monkey king replied:

“No one under heaven is more foolish than you. How could a liver be hung upon a tree? You and I were friends who had entrusted our lives to one another, yet you plotted to harm me. From this day forward, you and I shall each go our separate way.”

The Buddha said to the bhiksus:

“The wife of that turtle is now Lady Pu Chi; the turtle is Devadatta; and the monkey king was I in a former life.”

When the Buddha had spoken thus, all the bhiksus joyfully received and understood his teaching.

Sutra 11: The Buddha’s Teaching on the Story of the Five Seers

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was traveling and teaching in the city of Rajagriha together with an assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty great bhiksus and the bodhisattvas.

The Buddha told those in the assembly:

“Countless kalpas ago in the distant past, there were five seers living in a mountain forest. Four were masters, while one devoted himself to attending upon them and providing everything they needed, never once displeasing the other four. He gathered fruit and drew water, always doing so at the proper times. One day, he traveled far to gather fruit and fetch water. Becoming weary, he fell sound asleep and forgot the time for returning. By the time he arrived, more than half the day had passed. The other four had received nothing to eat. In anger, they summoned their attendant and said:

“‘How can one charged with providing for us conduct himself in this way? By acting as you have, you are truly a wicked, accursed man, not an upright person.’

“After hearing this, the attendant was overcome with grief and could scarcely speak. He returned to the foot of a tree and sat near the water’s edge with one leg extended. He reflected and reproached himself: he had performed this service for a long time, but now he had supplied fruit after the four seers’ mealtime, thereby failing in the meaning of the religious path and acting contrary to the wishes of the other four.

Overcome with emotion, he died. He ordinarily wore a pair of sandals made of the seven precious substances. When he sat with his leg extended, one sandal fell into the water and was lost.

After his death, he was immediately reborn as the accursed son of a non-Buddhist. When he was more than ten years old, he played with a group of children by the roadside. At that time, a brahmin passed by and saw the children playing there, so he stopped to observe them.

He saw that this accursed child possessed the noble marks of one destined to become a king and had an appearance extraordinary among men. The brahmin called the child over and said:

“‘You possess the marks of a king. You should not squander your strength roaming about and playing with them.’

“The child replied:

“‘I am an accursed wretch. How could I possess the marks of a king?’

“The brahmin said again:

“‘According to my scriptures, when compared with your bearing and bodily form, and according to the books recording prophecies, everything corresponds perfectly. If this matter comes to pass, you will owe me a profound debt of gratitude. There is certainly not the slightest deception in my words.

“‘The king of this realm will die on such-and-such a day of such-and-such a month, and you will assuredly succeed him.’

“The child replied:

“‘Yes, sir. Please do not speak loudly of this matter, but keep it entirely secret. If events occur just as you have said, I shall bear a great debt of gratitude and shall not dare become arrogant.’

“After speaking, the brahmin departed for another kingdom.

“Before long, the king died without an heir to the throne, and men were sent to seek a worthy person to become king. The ministers deliberated: ‘A country without a sovereign is like a person without a head. We must quickly find a virtuous person and establish him as king.’

“The envoys traveled everywhere and saw that child, whose bearing was extraordinary. They immediately sent someone back to report to the ministers that, in accordance with the protocols of the royal court, an imposing royal carriage and escort should be sent to welcome him with the proper ceremony. All the ministers and officials rejoiced.

Following the envoy’s report, they prepared the royal carriage and respectfully welcomed the child back. They bathed him in fragrant water, dressed him in the fivefold royal robes, placed upon his head a crown adorned with the seven precious substances, and girded him with a sword, all in accordance with the rites of the former kings. With heralds before him and attendants behind him, and in full conformity with the ceremonies of the realm, they conducted the child into the great hall and enthroned him.

Facing south, the king proclaimed his royal title and issued an announcement throughout the land. Prayers were offered for peace in the kingdom, and the people rejoiced.

“At that time, the brahmin looked upward to examine the celestial signs and downward to observe the configurations of the earth. Learning that the child had ascended the throne, he went directly to the palace gate and requested an audience. The gatekeeper reported to the king:

“‘Outside, there is a brahmin requesting an audience with Your Majesty.’

“The king ordered that he be admitted. The brahmin entered, offered thanks and blessings, and then said to the king:

“‘The event occurred just as I predicted, and the outcome has now fulfilled my former expectation. Is this not entirely certain?’

“The king replied:

“‘Indeed it is! The law of cause and effect is supremely wondrous! Through the kindness I received, I have attained this exalted position.’

“The king continued, saying to the brahmin:

“‘Half of the kingdom’s treasury of jewels, beautiful women, carriages and horses, and servants—whatever you desire shall be given to you at once.’

“The brahmin replied:

“I do not desire those things. I ask only that the king grant me two wishes. First, may I share equally in the king’s food, drink, clothing, and everything used for reclining and sitting, at the same time as the king, without precedence or distinction. Second, may I join the king in deliberating affairs of state, so that we decide all matters together and the king does not act on his own authority.”

The king said:

“Excellent! I accept the ascetic’s two wishes and shall not deviate from them!”

The king always employed the true Dharma to regulate and govern the country and did not oppress the people. Favored by the king, the brahmin became arrogant and unrestrained and treated the great ministers with contempt. Resentful, the ministers remonstrated with the king:

“Your Majesty is the honored sovereign and should deliberate upon affairs of state with the senior ministers. Instead, you put your trust in this ascetic, causing him to become arrogant and contemptuous and to bully the entire body of officials. If neighboring kingdoms hear of this, they will ridicule us, and it may invite the calamity of hostile invasion.”

The king said:

“When I was young, I made a solemn pledge to him long ago. How could I abandon it?”

The king would not heed the ministers’ remonstrations. They thought, “If the king eats first without waiting for him, the situation may be rectified.”

Having obtained the king’s consent, they waited until the brahmin had gone out and did not return in time, and then served the king’s meal so that he might eat first. When the brahmin returned, he angrily said:

“Why did the king eat alone before me today?”

The king replied:

“I ate first because you had not yet returned. Knowing that you would be late, I had another meal prepared for you.”

The brahmin reviled him:

“You accursed wretch! You understand no principle and have violated your oath.”

When the ministers heard a subject dare to revile the king in this manner, they all went before the king and requested that the brahmin be put to death. The king asked the ministers:

“What punishment should be imposed for this offense?”

They proposed various punishments: casting him into a cauldron to be boiled, burning him with fire, dismembering him, pounding him in a mortar, or inflicting the five mutilations, such as cutting off his ears, severing his tongue, and gouging out his eyes. The king did not follow their counsel. He said:

“I revere and uphold the Dharma, and with a sincere heart I always have compassion for all sentient beings. I would not harm even a weak and helpless creature, much less take a human life. Now provide him with provisions and necessities, and then expel him from the country.”

The ministers obeyed the decree, supplied the brahmin with food and clothing, and expelled him beyond the borders.

Alone upon the long road, enduring every kind of heat and cold, he became exhausted and haggard, scarcely resembling a human being. He entered another country and went directly to the home of a brahmin whom he had known before. That brahmin asked:

“From where have you come? According to which scriptures have you cultivated and practiced? Have you attained anything?”

He replied:

“I have come here from far away. Tormented by hunger and cold, I have forgotten everything I practiced.”

The brahmin thought, “This man has forgotten all that he studied, recited, and practiced. It will be difficult for him to undertake the work of teaching and transforming others, so I shall have him farm the land.” He then provided him with servants and plow oxen. While farming, the man treated one servant exceedingly harshly, forcing him to level the land and sending him on errands everywhere.

So distressed was the servant that he wished to cast himself into the river. When he reached the river, however, he found a sandal made of the seven precious substances. He thought, “If I give it to my master, he is ungrateful.

If I give it to my parents, they will surely sell it merely to obtain food. This brahmin has caused me great misery and commands me to perform all manner of tasks. Since I must serve him, perhaps offering him this precious sandal will bring me some relief.” He therefore took the sandal back and presented it to the brahmin.

The brahmin was overjoyed and thought, “The value of this sandal made of the seven precious substances is truly beyond compare. I offended the king, but if I now offer him this sandal, perhaps my former crime of insulting the sovereign can be absolved.”

Having thought thus, the brahmin returned to seek the king and presented him with the sandal. He then confessed his former wrongdoing, expressed remorse and repentance, and begged the king to pardon his offense.

The king said:

“Excellent!”

The king immediately carried the sandal behind a curtain, gave the brahmin a separate seat, summoned the ministers, and issued a command:

“Have you seen the brahmin who was previously expelled?”

The ministers replied:

“No, Your Majesty, we have not seen him.”

The king said:

“If you were to see him, what should we do?”

The ministers replied:

“His hands and feet should be severed, his ears and nose cut off, his head struck off, and his body cut through at the waist. The five cruel punishments should be inflicted upon him.”

The king said:

“What if he displayed wisdom and understanding?”

The ministers replied:

“That should not be taken into consideration.”

The king showed the precious sandal to the ministers and summoned the brahmin to appear before them, explaining his connection with this extraordinary treasure. The ministers said in unison:

“This brahmin’s offense is as great as a mountain and as vast as the sea; it cannot be forgiven. The offering of a single sandal is insufficient. If he obtains the matching sandal, only then may his offense be expunged.”

The king agreed. He again expelled the brahmin and ordered him to find the other sandal. The brahmin lamented sorrowfully:

“Alas! My burden has now become exceedingly heavy!”

He then returned to his former master. The master asked:

“Where have you been, and from where have you now returned?”

The brahmin remained silent, not daring to answer, and behaved as though he had merely returned by chance. His former master again entrusted him with plow oxen and servants and had him attend to the farming as before. The brahmin then asked the servant:

“Where did you formerly find the precious sandal?”

The servant immediately led him to the place where he had found it. Upon reaching the riverbank, the brahmin searched everywhere but could not find the other sandal. The servant went home. The brahmin thought, “That precious sandal must have floated down from upstream. How could I find its mate by remaining here below?” He therefore followed the river upstream. He saw a fish holding a lotus flower in its mouth as it swam with the current. The flower was immense and had more than a thousand petals. The brahmin thought, “Although I have not found the sandal, if I offer this flower to the king, perhaps my former offense may still be absolved and I may regain his favor.”

He took hold of the flower’s stem and then saw four seers sitting beneath a tree. He approached them, bowed in homage, inquired after their dwelling, and wished their holy persons myriad blessings. The seers asked:

“From where have you come?”

The brahmin replied:

“I offended the king. Although I presented him with one precious sandal, it was insufficient to absolve my offense. Therefore, I have traveled upstream in search of the other sandal, but I have not yet found it.”

One of the seers said:

“You are a learned man and should understand when to advance and when to withdraw! That king is our disciple. He once cherished and respected you, shared his food and drink with you, sat and reclined with you, and deliberated upon affairs of state with you. How could you, in a moment of anger, dare to revile the king as an accursed wretch? Your offense truly deserved execution. What you do not know is that here beneath this tree, in a former life, the king served the seers and provided them with food. At that time, he sat with one leg outstretched, then died from overwhelming emotion. His precious sandal fell into the water. The other sandal, which remained upon his foot, is still here. We now give it to you!”

The brahmin received the sandal, bowed his head to the ground, and expressed repentance. He returned to his native kingdom and again presented the sandal to the king. The king rejoiced, and the ministers’ hearts were appeased; thus, the brahmin regained the king’s favor as before.

The Buddha said to the bhikshus:

“The king at that time was I in a former life. Those four seers were the Buddhas Krakucchanda, Kanakamuni, Kashyapa, and Maitreya, while that brahmin was Devadatta.”

When the Buddha had taught thus, all the bhikshus joyfully received and understood his teaching.