寂志果經

Thus have I heard:

At one time, the Buddha was sojourning in Jivaka’s Mango Grove near the city of Rajagriha, together with a complete assembly of 1,250 bhikshus. At that time, on the full-moon day of the seventh month, the day marking the completion of the rains retreat, King Ajatashatru was surrounded by the full gathering of his officials, ministers, and retinue. In profound silence, he calmly surveyed them and said to his ministers:

“Know this, worthy ministers: although I have cultivated and disciplined myself in this way, my sorrow remains unchanged. Though I have lived to my present age, my heart is still perpetually stricken with grief. What method, then, should be used to dispel this sorrow?”

One minister said to the king:

“Five kinds of music should be used to dissipate your grief and anxiety.”

Another minister said:

“Exquisite songs, beautiful courtesans, drums, music, zithers, and singing can dispel sorrow.”

Another minister said to the king:

“The four divisions of the army—elephant troops, cavalry, chariots, and infantry—together with valiant soldiers, should be used to dispel your sorrow.”

Another minister said to the king:

“Purana Kashyapa, Makkhali Gosala, Ajita, Kakkuda Katyayana, Sanjaya Belatthiputta, Nigantha Nataputta, and others—each of these teachers has five hundred disciples in this great city. You could adorn a grand carriage, go and meet them, and converse with them pleasantly; then you might be freed from grief and distress.”

At that time, the young royal physician named Jivaka—called Gu Huo in the Jin dynasty—stood attending the king with a fan in his hand. The king turned and asked him:

“Why do you remain silent and not state your opinion?”

Jivaka said to the king:

“If Your Majesty wishes to sever anxiety and sorrow, the Buddha, the Blessed One, is now staying in the Mango Grove with the full assembly of his disciples. You may go before the Buddha, bow your head in homage, and ask him about your doubts; they will then be resolved.”

At that moment, King Ajatashatru wished at once to behold the God among Gods and replied to Jivaka:

“Excellent! Most excellent! Come with me to pay him a visit.”

Obeying the command, Jivaka prepared five hundred elephants and five hundred female attendants. When all was ready, he said:

“Your Majesty, the time has come.”

The king mounted an elephant named Ren Diao and, accompanied by a full retinue of five hundred guards protecting him before and behind, departed from the city of Rajagriha amid blazing torches. Then fear arose in the king’s heart. He stopped and dared not proceed, but called to Jivaka and said:

“How many bhikshus are present with the Buddha in that Mango Grove?”

Jivaka replied, “There are altogether 1,250.”

The king said:

“You are not deceiving me, are you? Have you lured me out of my realm and onto this dangerous road? Whenever I visit the brahmin ascetics, although they number only five hundred, their voices resound loudly. How is it that so many bhikshus are gathered here, yet not a sound can be heard?”

Jivaka said to the king:

“Please do not be afraid. I would not dare deceive Your Majesty or contrive harm against one so honored. It is only because the Buddha, the Blessed One, always abides in silence, and his disciples, diligently cultivating and training, also observe the discipline of silence. I humbly beseech Your Majesty to continue forward. When you behold the supreme radiance and see the Buddha, the Blessed One, together with the assembly of his disciples, your mind will immediately become joyful and delighted.”

Then King Ajatashatru saw the Blessed One from afar and immediately dismounted from his elephant. He removed the five royal adornments: his crown, jeweled necklace, precious mantle and garland, fly whisk, and sword. He also set aside his parasol and proceeded on foot to the Dharma hall, where he asked Jivaka:

“Where is the Buddha?”

Jivaka replied, “The one seated before the assembly of bhikshus is the Buddha. His majestic spiritual radiance shines brilliantly, and his merit and virtue tower aloft.”

The king approached the Buddha, inquired after his well-being, gazed reverently upon his countenance, and then stood to one side, observing the Buddha’s assembly of bhikshus. All sat in silence, utterly pure, profound, and wondrous. The king’s heart filled with joy. Joining his palms toward the Buddha, he said:

“The Buddha’s mind is quiescent, subtle, wondrous, and free from thought; his disciples are likewise. May my own mind also become as wondrous and settled as theirs.”

A young man named Bai Xian said to the king:

“Does Your Majesty aspire to attain this practice?”

The king said to the Buddha:

“Indeed, Blessed One. May the minds of the Sangha be filled with joy.”

Then King Ajatashatru said to the Buddha:

“I have a question I wish to ask. Only if you permit me shall I dare to ask it.”

The Buddha said:

“Ask whatever you wish.”

The king said:

“There are people engaged in various occupations according to their desires—pursuing pleasure, sleeping and resting, assembling together, calculating, and practicing numerical arts. There are great ministers and the full host of officials who attend and obey them, as well as royal astrologers who cast divinations and know the endings and beginnings of people’s lives. Through these occupations, people receive reverence, food and drink, and the products of their skills.

They may act for their own sake, or for the sake of their parents, wives, children, servants, and attendants; or they may make offerings to shramanas and brahmins, presenting them with the finest things in hopes of obtaining benefit, peace, and well-being. Within the Buddha’s Dharma and discipline, can such people attain the path and realize its fruits?”

The Buddha replied:

“Great King, have you ever asked other non-Buddhist teachers this question?”

The king said to the Buddha:

“I once went to Purana Kashyapa and asked him this question: There are people who work with elephants and horses, drive chariots, travel on foot, possess treasures, attendants, and storehouses, serve as mighty warriors, or tend elephant carriages and great horses. Others pursue pleasure, sleep and rest, or hold assemblies with devas and humans. There are great ministers with the full host of officials in attendance, as well as royal astrologers who cast divinations and know the beginnings and endings of people’s lives, thereby receiving reverence for their work.

They may seek peace for themselves, or for their parents, wives, children, servants, and attendants; or they may offer the finest things to shramanas and brahmins. If I act in accordance with the true Dharma and discipline, can I enter the path of quiescence?

“He answered me at once:

“‘There is nothing whatsoever. There is no Blessed One, no recompense for kindness, no wrongdoing or merit, no father or mother, and no arhat who has attained the path. No merit comes from making offerings. There is neither this life nor a future life, nor anyone who diligently cultivates with one-pointed resolve directed toward the path. Although there is a body and life, when life ends the four elements disperse, the mind perishes and returns to nothingness, and no further birth occurs. Though the body is buried in the earth, every part decays of itself and ultimately becomes like empty space, no longer existing.’

“Thus, Blessed One, when I questioned that non-Buddhist teacher, he answered me with such views. In my heart I thought, ‘This is not so.’ How could there be no karmic retribution for wrongdoing and merit? It is as though someone asked what a mango is, but was answered with a melon, or asked about a melon and was answered with a mango. Purana Kashyapa was just like this: his words were inverted and incoherent, without beginning or end. Although I heard him speak in this way, I could not understand him.”

King Ajatashatru continued, saying to the Buddha:

“I then went to Makkhali Gosala and asked him what was meant by the lesser sphere and the sphere of desire. Can a person become pure without causes and conditions? Do wrongdoing and merit exist, or is it that one neither knows nor sees?

He likewise replied that there is neither this life nor a future life, neither one’s own power nor another’s power, and no diligent effort. All people simply experience suffering and happiness accordingly. If asked about six, he answered with seven.

Blessed One, it was as though he were asked about a mango but answered with a melon, or asked about a melon but answered with a mango. This heterodox teacher was just like that. Within my realm, when I asked him what needed to be asked, he answered me with such views.

When questioned about his statements, he could neither elucidate nor explain them, so I left him.

“I then went to Ajita and asked him what was meant by the abiding place and the sphere of desire, and how one could attain the path and its realization within this Dharma and discipline. He replied to me:

“‘Great King, however that person comes and questions me, I answer him in precisely the same way, saying that there is rebirth in a future life.’”

When I asked him, he also spoke of a future life. Suppose someone were to ask whether one is reborn in the world in a future life or not. My own thought is that there is a future life, or perhaps there is no future life.

Or someone might come and ask whether there is a future life or no future life, and I would answer either that there is or that there is not. It is like someone who, when asked about a mango, answers with a melon, and when asked about a melon, answers with a mango. A Di Súy was just the same.

I asked about other methods by which a śramaṇa cultivates and attains the Way, but he answered me with words that had no order. I thought: None of the other paths in the city of Rājagṛha can enlighten me and dispel the sorrow in my heart. Where, then, should I go to meet a śramaṇa or brahmin who can enlighten my mind, free me from sorrow, and show me something beneficial?

Seeing that what A Di Súy had said was of no benefit, I departed at once.

I then went to Ba Hưu Ca Chiên and asked him what is meant by an abiding place. I further asked about the causes underlying the state of animals. Within this Dharma and discipline, how does one attain the Way and realize its fruit? He replied to me:

“Your Majesty, when a person has received this body, it is without cause and without condition. He has neither perception nor conceit, harbors no accumulated band of harmful thieves, and in this very present state attains an abiding place. In obtaining this body, nothing whatsoever is lost.

Forms and mental perceptions simply proceed of themselves, while what are called transgression and merit, good and evil, have been severed for that person. There is nothing seen by the eyes over which to contend. As for possessing a body, when the lifespan ends, one has no anxiety about death.

Such a person cannot be said to think, ‘I am going to die.’ Because one relies upon the lives of devas and humans, it is said that when the lifespan ends, one is utterly annihilated. Therefore, through dependence upon the worldly sensual desires of humankind, views arise among devas and humans. From these desires there consequently arise five thieves and sixty-two kinds.

These sixty-two kinds have no lineage. Stated fully, there are sixty-two phenomena that arise together with lineage. Without employing thought, one enters the eight difficulties; all should be abandoned, and further benefit and peace will be attained.

Having attained peace, one constantly dwells in the heavens. Having come to dwell in the heavens, there immediately arise eighty-four great thoughts, arising together with magical arts and arising together with the subtle and wondrous; thereupon aging, illness, and suffering arise. No practitioner of the Way and no brahmin maintains such a doctrine.

My precepts are pure, and I have also departed far from sensual desire. The desires that constantly accompanied this body have been entirely eliminated. It is like lighting a lamp, whereupon there is light.

Such is the matter; no brahmin attains the Way.”

It is like someone who, when asked about a mango, answers with a melon, and when asked about a melon, answers with a mango. Ba Hưu Ca Chiên was just the same. I asked about a śramaṇa’s realization of the Way, but he answered me concerning human aging and illness. I thought: I asked about realization of the Way, yet he answers me in this manner. Hearing his words, I was displeased and understood nothing at all, so I rose and departed.

I then went to Tiên Tỷ Lô Trì and questioned him. I asked how, through seeking within this Dharma and discipline, one could accomplish the Way. He replied to me:

“Your Majesty, human learning, elimination, and appropriation, whether conscious or unconscious; becoming weary of and departing from seeking; casting off one’s own sorrow as one would smash an earthen jar; abandoning greed and stinginess; inundating kingdoms and destroying cities; ravaging the myriad people; killing living beings, stealing and plundering, engaging in sexual misconduct, speaking falsely, speaking divisively, drinking intoxicants, and fighting—even if one commits these deeds, there is no karmic retribution for transgression whatsoever.

Those who give also receive no karmic reward of merit. Harming others, rebelling, and committing evil entail neither transgression nor merit. There is neither an object of action nor an act, neither causes and conditions nor sincerity, nor is there truth.

Even if one acts in accordance with righteousness, good and evil bring no recompense.”

It is like someone who, when asked about a mango, answers with a melon, and when asked about a melon, answers with a mango. Tỷ Lô Trì was just the same. I asked about the practices by which one attains the Way and realizes its fruit, but he replied that all is annihilated and that there is neither transgression nor merit. I thought: What conditions could give rise to such a doctrine? Unable to comprehend it, I departed at once.

I then went to Ni Kiền Tử and asked him: “What is meant by attaining an abiding place or a place of desire? Is there anyone who receives the consequences of transgression and merit? What deeds were done in former lives? Does one who trains in the Way attain the Way?” He replied to me:

“Your Majesty, all the people I presently see who possess transgression or merit have it because of causes and conditions arising from former lives. Aging and illness exist because of the causes and conditions of craving. As for one who trains in the Way and holds thoughts concerning causes and conditions, only after producing sons and grandsons does he attain the Way.”

It is like answering “melon” when asked about a mango and answering “mango” when asked about a melon. I asked about realizing the fruit and attaining the Way, but in response he employed false views. When I had heard him speak, I felt neither delight nor joy, so I rose and departed.

King Ajātaśatru said to the Buddha:

“I questioned all those teachers, yet none could enlighten me or explain the matter. I now venture to approach the Blessed One, the treasury of precious things, and ask about these matters. I pray that you will resolve my doubts. What is the fruit of the brahmin’s quiescent aspiration? Within this Dharma and discipline, how does one realize the Way?”

The Buddha told the king:

“I shall clearly distinguish and explain what you wish to ask, so that the doubts in your mind may be dispelled. First I shall question Your Majesty, and you may answer as you see fit. What do you think, great king?

Suppose a man dressed in fine garments respectfully stood in attendance upon you and considered himself happy. Yet he did not delight in his station or dwelling and thought to himself: ‘King Ajātaśatru is a human being, and I too am a human being. The king delights himself with the five sensual pleasures and is adorned with splendid garments.

I do not delight in my dwelling or enjoy my station. I should establish virtue and depart from the karmic retribution of transgressions. It would be better for me to shave off my beard and hair, put on the kāṣāya robe, and become a śramaṇa.

With faith arising, I shall leave home to train in the Way.’ He then receives the precepts, observes the prohibitions of the Way, and refrains from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, divisive speech, harsh and abusive words, anger, jealousy, and delusion. What does Your Majesty think? Suppose someone came before you and reported: ‘This man, once handsomely adorned and serving Your Majesty, ceased to delight in his station and no longer coveted his dwelling.

With faith arising, he left home to train in the Way. He guards his body, speech, and mind, commits no evil, and cultivates the ten wholesome actions.’ How would Your Majesty treat him?”

The king said to the Buddha:

“When I saw that man, I would immediately rejoice, inquire after his well-being, respectfully bow to him, and make offerings to him of clothing, food and drink, beds and sitting mats, and medicines when he was ill.”

The Buddha told the king:

“That man has not yet practiced the great Dharma, yet he has already obtained such a fruit of the Way.”

The king said to the Buddha:

“I pray that the Buddha will teach the Dharma.”

The Buddha told the king:

In the world, I am the Tathagata, the Perfectly True One, the Fully and Perfectly Awakened One, the One Accomplished in Knowledge and Conduct, the Well-Gone One, the Knower of the World, the Unsurpassed One, the Guide who Tames by the Dharma, the Teacher of Devas and Humans, the Buddha, the Blessed One. When I teach the Dharma, the words are good at the beginning, good in the middle, and good at the end; they are complete in subtle and wondrous wisdom and expound the practice of purity.

If a son of a noble elder hears the Buddha expound the scriptures and gains beneficial, wholesome faith in the Dharma and discipline of the Tathagata, he personally sees the great benefit found within the Buddha-Dharma and immediately attains acceptance of the Dharma. He reflects: “Household life is constricting and afflicted by defilements, whereas one who has gone forth is free from obstruction.” He then single-mindedly relinquishes sensual pleasures and, until the end of his life, undertakes the practice of purity, reflecting: “I wish to abandon home, property, and relatives, shave off my hair and beard, put on the kasaya robe, and, through the faith arisen while at home, go forth to train in the Way.

I shall relinquish sensual pleasures, become a sramana, and uphold the 250 precepts of a bhiksu without violating the prohibitions of the Way. I shall preserve the Dharma and discipline; whether walking or standing, I shall conform to the prescribed rules and never lose proper deportment.” He thereby relinquishes possessions, becomes peaceful and dignified, remains cautious and fearful of wrongdoing, abides single-mindedly in equanimity, and cultivates right morality.

He abstains from killing living beings and does not carry knives or clubs. His mind constantly retains a sense of shame, and he extensively brings peace and security to all sentient beings, causing them no fear. Inwardly pure and free from harmfulness, he abstains from stealing and relinquishes taking what has not been given.

He rejoices in giving, his mind inclines toward relinquishment, and his thoughts abide in peace. He constantly guards himself; inwardly pure, he takes nothing that is not given.

He abstains from sexual activity, purely cultivates the holy life, preserves a chaste mind, and extinguishes the defiled mind of lust. Inwardly pure, he is not deluded by forms.

He abstains from false speech and is no longer untruthful. Never practicing deception, he maintains a sincere and trustworthy mind, abides in truth, and does not betray his promises to the world. Inwardly pure, he harbors no deceit.

He does not delight in divisive speech, does not slander the virtuous, and never incites people on one side and the other to quarrel. He reconciles disputes and brings resentment and harm to an end. Inwardly pure, he does not use divisive speech to create enmity.

He abstains from harsh speech and does not delight in reviling others. He always maintains a self-possessed mind and never speaks unwholesome words through heedlessness. He speaks gently and does not utter coarse words; all who hear him develop faith, rejoice, and take refuge.

Inwardly pure, he never reviles others. He abstains from frivolous and embellished speech, speaks at the proper time, and is free from slander and malicious scheming. His meaning is clear, and his words are peaceful, tranquil, and free from error; he discerns both sentiment and principle.

Inwardly pure, his mind is free from frivolity. He abstains from ignorance and relinquishes the deluded mind. He does not covet the property of others or seek out their faults.

He regards others as himself and constantly seeks absolute serenity. Inwardly pure, he harbors no delusion. He abstains from anger and entertains no intention to harm.

He constantly maintains loving-kindness and compassion and, through skillful means, lovingly pities and protects even the smallest insects. Possessing a sense of shame, he comforts all living creatures. Inwardly pure, he harbors no anger.

He abstains from delighting in sleep and rest; his mind cultivates the practice of emptiness, and he constantly dwells in seclusion. He never gives himself over to rest, but wishes, remembers, and beholds the light; mindful of arising, he strives diligently without sleeping or resting.

He abstains from joking and noisy conversation. His conduct is neither attached nor violent. Inwardly pure, he strives diligently and does not indulge in playfulness.

He abstains from doubt; his mind does not hesitate, and he firmly directs his intention toward wholesome Dharma. Inwardly pure, his resolve is free from doubt.

He abstains from wrong views. Regarding this life and the next, he has faith that generosity brings merit; he is filial toward his parents, honors sages and noble ones, and obediently cultivates the wholesome path of those endowed with faith. After his life ends, he is reborn, attains the path of the six superknowledges, and practices equanimity. Inwardly pure, he holds no wrong views.

He abstains from flattery. Inwardly truthful, he harbors no deceit and does not use scales, measures, or rulers to encroach upon, defraud, or seize the property of others. He must not bind people or cast them into prison; he neither slanders nor complains but aspires to clarity. Inwardly pure, his mind is free from flattery.

He abstains from relations between men and women. He does not delight in household life amid the sensual attachments of wife and children, and he eliminates doubt. Inwardly pure, he does not covet fame or gain. He keeps neither male nor female slaves, servants, nor concubines and does not delight in household life. Inwardly pure, he is free from deluded attachments. He keeps no elephants, horses, cattle, or goats and does not delight in raising livestock. Inwardly pure, he has no desire to ride in vehicles. He keeps no chickens, birds, dogs, or pigs and seeks no profit. Inwardly pure, he does not raise chickens or pigs. He abstains from owning houses, does not adorn rooms, and does not acquire fields, houses, orchards, or fruit trees. Inwardly pure, he is not attached to fields or houses.

He abstains from beautiful ornamentation and from lofty, spacious seats of gold and silver. He does not delight in cushions spread upon vehicles or chairs woven from bamboo. Inwardly pure, he does not sleep upon high beds.

He abstains from the seven kinds of precious treasures and does not store jewels or valuables. He relinquishes jeweled playthings and does not crave fame or gain. Inwardly pure, he does not covet wealth or sensual beauty.

He abstains from flowers and perfumes and does not delight in any kind of fragrance. He does not perfume his body and is free from seeking. Inwardly pure, he is not attached to flowers or perfumes.

He abstains from eating at improper times, eats only once at the appointed time, and observes this schedule until the end of his life. Inwardly pure, he never eats at the wrong time. In plowing the earth and sowing seed, he acts properly in such matters, doing so only after examining them.

He performs the duties of a sramana, makes his own mind pure and dignified, illuminates and dispels sorrow, eliminates all defilement and harm, and constantly practices uprightness, moderation, and contentment, with his mind solely devoted to the Way. Such a sramana or brahmacarin, upon receiving food offered by the faithful, conducts himself according to the Dharma in whatever commandery, kingdom, district, or settlement he resides.

Just as the roots are always pure, the branches, trunk, twigs, leaves, flowers, and fruit are also pure; being complete in every kind of purity, the seed is likewise pure. Thus, in commanderies, kingdoms, districts, and settlements, he lives as a sramana practicing renunciation.

If a sramana or brahmacarin is worthy of receiving food offered by the faithful, then wherever he dwells he must remain well mindful of the faithful donors and constantly conduct himself according to the Dharma.

If a sramana or brahmacarin receives food offered by the faithful but, in his place of residence, acts improperly, seeking food and drink, calculating and scheming, seeking perfumes, flowers, clothing, and beds, storing precious treasures, and pursuing such things, then a sramana and practitioner of the Way must abstain from all such conduct.

If a sramana or brahmacarin, after receiving food offered by the faithful, still sits upon lofty and spacious beds, uses precious couches, acts improperly, ornaments beds and couches, paints them beautifully, delights in decorative images and stimulating sensations, holds a fly whisk in his hand, rides elephants, carriages, and horses, aspires to fine food, and constantly delights in fame and sensual beauty, then a sramana and practitioner of the Way must abstain from all such conduct.

If a sramana or brahmacarin, after receiving food offered by the faithful, still bathes indulgently, acts improperly, engages in conduct that ought to be abandoned, perfumes himself with flowers and fragrances, seeks offerings, fails to accord with the principles of the Way, carries knives and parasols in his hands, vies in wearing strings of precious jewels upon his arms, wrists, neck, and feet, dresses his body in clean white garments, and cuts down trees, then a sramana and practitioner of the Way must abstain from all such conduct.

If there are śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still adorn their own bodies and, while dwelling in their residences, engage in improper activities such as contests between elephants, oxen, horses, chickens, dogs, goats, and pigs; contests between men and women, adults and children; or attending fights and festivals—śramaṇa practitioners keep far away from such activities and pursuits.

If there are śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still adorn their own bodies, dwell improperly, and engage in unsuitable activities, making an occupation merely of listening to the sounds of elephants, herds of horses, chariots, pedestrians, oxen, and goats, or to drums, music, singing, dancing, amusement, discussions, and conversation—such practices are the conduct of followers of other paths. Śramaṇa practitioners keep far away from such things.

If there are śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still play dice, gamble with cards, live unlawfully, act inconsistently, compete with one another, throw counters into a bag, climb poles, play chess, pit calves against one another, or toss bowls—such conduct constitutes an unlawful way of life. Śramaṇa practitioners must keep far away from such things.

If there are śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still shout and dispute with one another, acting contrary to the Dharma, living unlawfully, and behaving improperly, saying: “This is Dharma; this is not Dharma. This is not correct; this alone is Dharma. Those things do not accord with what was said.

What I have done is right, while what you have done is wrong. You have a reason; I have no reason. What should have been said first you instead said afterward.

You speak falsely. I have defeated you; you have gained nothing at all. You do only evil and will meet with danger.

I have attained deliverance, while you have suffered loss and will not gain freedom”—such contentious speech is contrary to the Dharma. Śramaṇa practitioners must keep far away from such things.

If there are śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still sit together engaging in groundless discussions and improper conversation, such as: “What of kings? What of thieves? What of battles? What of food and drink? What of the clothing of men and women, adults and children?” or speaking of worldly affairs and the causes of fortunate events—such things are speech contrary to the Dharma. Śramaṇa practitioners must keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still speak improperly, utter words contrary to the Dharma, and engage in unsuitable conversation about kings, brahmins, trees, human affairs, and affairs of state, saying: “This or that place should be such-and-such. That country should possess such-and-such. This person should go there, and that person should come here”—such speech is contrary to the Dharma. Śramaṇa practitioners must keep far away from such speech.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still act deceitfully and flatter others, perform unlawful deeds, and engage in unsuitable conversation, sitting together and saying: “This is how profit is gained; this is how loss occurs,” or trading in other people’s property—such deceitful, flattering practices are contrary to the Dharma. Śramaṇa practitioners must keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still study magical arts, give rise to wrong views, speak of strange solar phenomena, practice inverted divination and physiognomy, falsely claim occult powers for personal gain, and study arts of calculation, judicial arts, fraudulent incantations, Gandhāra spells, Peacock spells, and miscellaneous spells—these are deceptive and delusive heterodox arts. Such practices are arts contrary to the Dharma. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still study delusive spells and deceptive arts, read people’s faces, observe the stars and various portents involving clouds, wind, thunder, lightning, and mist, seek auspicious days, and predict whether during a summer month a certain village will or will not receive rain, whether a certain land will prosper or not, or what will happen concerning the king—such practices are arts contrary to the Dharma. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still study many kinds of teachings that ought not to be studied, engage in animal arts, prescribe medicinal remedies, induce tears amid sensual pleasures, or cause the blood vessels in a person’s body to move; whose intentions are not upright, who expound deceptive arts and divine whether matters will be peaceful—such things are animal arts. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still act contrary to the Dharma, predict flavors of food and drink in the mouth, discuss marriage arrangements, and say: “You have a good dwelling. This is my lodging; this is my house. My home is worthy of remembrance. My house is peaceful. I possess a tower. I work diligently,” or speak of trivial affairs concerning kings—such things are animal arts. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still engage in the many animal arts that are practices of wrong view, divining the characteristics of jewels, cattle, horses, dwellings, houses, and sharp blades, or reading the bodily marks of men, women, adults, and children—such practices are occupations based on wrong view. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still personally entertain deluded notions about strange omens, engage in practices contrary to the Dharma, act without wisdom while regarding themselves as wise, cast divinatory lots, and make talismans and spells—such conduct is an occupation based on wrong view. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still interpret some signs as auspicious and others as inauspicious, predicting whether the grain harvest will fail or be abundant, whether it will be average or poor, whether there will be terror or peace, whether there will be a great epidemic, or whether deaths will occur—such conduct is an occupation based on wrong view. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still say: “The king of this country will be victorious in battle, while the king of that country will be inferior. The king of this country will make a royal journey to visit that country, while the king of that country will lose his freedom. This side will gain victory, while that side will be defeated. This king has many elephants, horses, six kinds of livestock, and vehicles, while that king has few elephants, horses, and vehicles”—such things are occupations based on wrong view. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

Śramaṇas and brahmins who, having accepted food offered by the faithful, still discuss among themselves whether the sun and moon follow their proper courses or deviate from them; whether the stars follow their proper courses or deviate from them; whether the sun and moon move slowly, swiftly, or irregularly; whether strange and extraordinary calamities will occur; whether there will be a solar or lunar eclipse; or whether there will be rain, frost, hail, thunder, or lightning—such things are occupations based on wrong view. Śramaṇa practitioners should keep far away from such things.

After śramaṇas and brahmin ascetics have accepted food offered by the faithful, they still speak about the sun and moon: for this reason they follow their proper courses, and for this reason they deviate from them; the stars follow their proper courses because of certain causes and conditions, and they fail to follow their proper courses also because of certain causes and conditions. They speak of obstructions and strange transformations, saying that the sun and moon travel westward, or that they travel eastward, or that they will be eclipsed; they also explain why they are not eclipsed, and predict thunder, lightning, and flashes in the sky.

Such matters are commonly seen to be borne out. Śramaṇas who cultivate the Way should remain far removed from such things. As for those called noble ones, my śramaṇa disciples honor the precepts of the noble ones and conduct themselves with contentment. Their garments serve only to cover the body, and their food and drink only to satisfy hunger.

Wherever they go, they carry their robes and alms bowls with them and cherish no attachments, just as a bird flying through the sky carries its two wings with it. So too does a bhikṣu honor the precepts of the noble ones, remaining content at heart and seeking nothing. He clearly understands how to regulate his bodily needs, conducts himself peacefully, and performs every action well.

In seeing, looking, and observing, he never loses his dignified deportment. In bending and stretching, advancing and stopping, he accords with the prescribed forms. Whether sitting or standing, he is at ease and causes no harm.

Upholding this body of precepts is foremost contentment. His faculties are tranquil and his mind is peaceful; his faculties are not disordered. He guards his own mind, no longer indulges in discursive thought, and directs it toward the Way.

When his eyes see an appealing form, he does not conceive thoughts of seeking its beauty, but cuts them off at the very point of sensation and practices the roots of goodness. Within his own mind he remains removed from inner forms and guards the faculty of sight. It is likewise with the ear and sounds, the nose and odors, the tongue and flavors, and the body and tangible objects: he entertains no thoughts of seeking them and no attachment to them.

He eliminates what should not be done, casts away all delusion, abandons unwholesome dharmas, and guards the mind within so that it is not disturbed, thereby bringing the mental faculty into concentration. The bhikṣu who observes these precepts of the noble ones possesses foremost contentment. His mind is pure and quiescent, his faculties restrained.

No disturbance arises within, and he conducts himself peacefully. He dwells in secluded, quiet places, concealing himself among mountains and forests or in caves and wildernesses. At ease within his body, he withdraws from the world, undefiled by craving and attachment.

His mind contemplates the absence of thought. He does not covet the possessions of others, gives rise to no delusion, and does not trouble anyone. He constantly cultivates a mind of loving-kindness and compassion.

Inwardly pure and free from deluded perceptions, wherever he travels his mind remains unattached, delighting in goodness, peace, and security. It is like a person who journeys far in search of profit, traverses dangerous roads, escapes perils and thorns, and acquires great wealth, yet does not forget to provide for his wife, children, sons and daughters, and relatives. Reflecting upon this, that person is exceedingly joyful at heart.

So too does the bhikṣu remain far removed from delusion, inwardly pure and free from defilement. Having eliminated anger and harmfulness, he rejoices without impurity. It is like a person confined to bed by illness, weak and sick throughout the year, who later recovers. His strength is restored, he is at ease, and he can digest his food and drink. He reflects inwardly: “Formerly I was in grave danger, but now I have recovered from my illness.”

So too does the bhikṣu eliminate anger and hatred, reflect thoroughly, and rejoice at heart. It is like a person who serves another as a slave, enduring labor and service, never obtaining rest or freedom. Later he is released and becomes a free person. He reflects: “Formerly I was subject to another, but now I have been set free,” and his heart is filled with joy. The bhikṣu eliminates doubt and no longer hesitates; he immediately becomes pure, joyful, and glad. It is like a person imprisoned in a jail, suffering pain and anguish, who is later released. He reflects: “Formerly I was confined in a dark prison, but now I have escaped,” and immediately feels compassion for himself.

So too does the bhikṣu eradicate doubt and become pure, unblemished, and joyful. The bhikṣu abandons wrong-mindedness; his mind is no longer stained by thoughts, and he is inwardly pure. It is like a person who encounters a year of abundant harvests. Having feared hunger and thirst, he now gains security and preserves his life. When the harvest is plentiful and grain is inexpensive, he rejoices without fear. He reflects: “Formerly I suffered hunger and thirst and was in indescribable distress, but now I have enough to eat,” and he rejoices at heart.

So too does the bhikṣu eliminate wrong-mindedness and all such perceptions, returning to the source of purity. His mind is no longer doubtful. He removes the five hindrances, withdraws from mental afflictions, and strives to attain wisdom, thereby escaping all calamities.

Imprisonment and hunger have been eliminated; sensual desire and unwholesome dharmas have been abandoned. With thought and investigation, quiescent and pure, he enters the first dhyāna. It is like a person who enters the water to bathe, becomes clean and free of dirt, and crosses to the other shore, whereupon his heart rejoices.

So too does the bhikṣu dwell alone in quiescence, peaceful, serene, and joyful. He contemplates and sees all things, examining whence this body arose. He sees that there is no body and, contemplating extensively, sees that it has no root.

His mind becomes still, joyful, peaceful, and secure, and he attains the first unification of mind, or meditative concentration. Using this concentration, he becomes inwardly pure and dwells in tranquil peace, attaining the state in which there is nothing. Sensual desire is exhausted and thoughts are eliminated.

With complete inner mindfulness, he peacefully performs wholesome conduct and attains the second unification of mind.

Within this very body he further attains samādhi, joyful, peaceful, and unobstructed. He contemplates fully and sees that there is no category of body; attaining nothing whatsoever, he attains concentration and rejoices. It is like a blue lotus whose stalk arises beneath the water from foul mud and grows within the water. Although it dwells in the water, its root, leaves, flowers, and fruit are not clung to by the water and are not defiled.

So too, with regard to this body and samādhi, the bhikṣu is peaceful and joyful. Through this mind of right absorption he attains firmness. His mind is undisturbed and pure, free from the dust of desire, and he attains the third unification of mind, or meditative concentration.

With this mind, his body is at ease and his concentrated mind is at ease. He is free from attachment. Even if there is a body, he contemplates extensively and sees that all things are empty of anything whatsoever. Moreover, he is no longer attached even to joy and pleasure, but remains peaceful and undisturbed. It is like a mountain that is wholly unbroken, vast and boundless. Winds blowing from the east cannot move it, and the same is true of winds blowing from the south, west, and north. Why is this? Because the mountain’s foundations are firm, it cannot be moved. Within it there is also a cool, clear, beautiful, and undefiled stream. Because it rests upon the mountain, the stream flows abundantly throughout the mountain, reaching everywhere without exception, owing to its pure water.

So too does the bhikṣu contemplate this body without delighting in it. Relying upon peace and security, he fulfills his practice and contemplates the absence of a body. Having seen comprehensively, he uses this mind to practice peacefully. Pure and unblemished, firm and unchanging, he eliminates sensual desire. Experiencing neither suffering nor pleasure, he enters the fourth dhyāna, the unification of mind. It is like a person who, on the seventeenth or eighteenth day of the month, puts on new clothes. With a cheerful countenance, he beholds his own body as dignified because he is wearing exceedingly fine garments.

So too is the bhikṣu’s bodily conduct pure and his mind undefiled. Rejoicing in deliverance, he has nothing further to do. He sees no body and contemplates everywhere without omitting any place, using a pure mind free from every impurity. It is like a lecture hall located not far from a commandery, kingdom, district, or settlement. Someone inside it kindles a brilliant fire whose light shines everywhere, without distinction between high and low. The wind cannot extinguish it, birds cannot obscure it, and no other kind of creature can dim its radiance. It is truly firm and unmoving.

A bhikshu is likewise. His mind is undistracted, firm, and unmoving. Having attained purity and tranquility, the bhikshu clearly knows thus: having attained right concentration, body and mind are quiescent.

This body of the four great elements, born of father and mother, is the support of consciousness. It is abandoned and not delighted in; body and mind are calamities of which one must grow weary. No longer undergoing renewed birth, he renders the mind formless, eliminates bodily forms of every kind, and, without losing the basis, establishes body and mind, manifesting various bodies complete with excellent marks and lacking nothing.

It is like uprooting the roots of grasses and trees: a wise person sees and knows that once the root of a tree has been pulled out, it will never grow again. The bhikshu is likewise and clearly understands thus: what pertains to this body is seen to consist of name-and-form, compounded of the four great elements, born of father and mother, and nourished by food and clothing. It is a concealed and false thing—how could it possess any permanence?

It is a phenomenon subject to destruction, upon which consciousness depends. He causes it to abide without distraction or movement. Right within body and mind, I manifest various bodies, devoid of material mind, fully formed, with their faculties unimpaired.

Arising from samadhi, I manifest numerous bodies, all fully formed. It is as though a person were to emerge from a chest containing cobras. A wise person who saw it would know that it was a chest containing four cobras.

The bhikshu likewise clearly understands that this is a visible body, dependent upon warmth, compounded of the four great elements, born of father and mother, and serving as the support of consciousness. Directly from body and mind he must transform and manifest various forms, without name-and-form, fully formed, with nothing lacking in their fundamental constitution. Arising from samadhi, he manifests innumerable transformation bodies. It is as though a person drew a sword from its scabbard; one with clear sight would know that within the scabbard there had been a sharp sword, which had now been drawn out. The bhikshu likewise clearly understands this matter, extensively observing a person who manifests innumerable forms, complete with all excellent marks and lacking nothing.

Through this samadhi of right concentration, the bhikshu’s mind becomes pure and free from stain or defilement. Having cast off afflictions, he is gentle, free from desire, firm, and unmoving. Having attained the wisdom of supernormal powers and the wisdom of higher knowledge, his mind neither increases nor diminishes, and his conduct is impartial.

He is honored as Great Sovereign, and his thoughts are fearless. From one body he manifests innumerable bodies, and the innumerable bodies become one body again. Freely manifesting transformations through manifold forms of wisdom, he passes through walls and barriers without obstruction or leaving a trace.

Like a bird flying through empty space, he goes out without needing a door and enters without needing an opening. He enters the earth without obstruction, as though passing into and out of water, and walks upon water as though treading upon solid ground. In empty space, he sits upright in the lotus posture, like a bird flying among the clouds.

Before the sun and moon, whose majestic power is vast, he reaches out with his hand to grasp and touch them, and transforms his body to ascend as far as the seventh Brahma heaven. It is like a skilled potter who thoroughly kneads clay, molds it into beautiful forms, and causes the clay to adhere so that it may be made into utensils—there is nothing he cannot make. The bhikshu is likewise: having attained supernormal powers and mastery of transformation, he ascends as far as the Brahma heaven.

It is like a trainer of elephants and horses who trains all the elephants and horses and brings them to accomplishment. The bhikshu is likewise: through supernormal powers and transformation, his body ascends as far as the Brahma realm. It is also like a skilled goldsmith who refines gold and uses pure gold to make jeweled bracelets, necklaces, and beautiful gold-inlaid seals; whatever he wishes to make, he accomplishes.

The bhikshu is likewise: through supernormal powers and transformation, his body ascends as far as the Brahma heaven. The bhikshu maintains the samadhi of right concentration; his mind is pure and stainless. He attains realized knowledge and obtains supernormal powers, and his mind is unattached.

His eyes can see everything, seeing all the wholesome and unwholesome realms above in the heavens and below on earth. His ears can hear everything: the speech of devas and humans, the sounds of crawling creatures, and the breathing of people and animals. It is like an accomplished man who blows a great conch horn while standing upon a high platform.

Blowing with all his strength, its sound is heard throughout the four directions. The bhikshu is likewise: with the ear of the Way he hears everywhere; he can hear all things among devas and humans, whether wholesome or unwholesome. Through this he realizes the Way and confirms supernormal knowledge, universally knowing the wholesome and unwholesome thoughts of others: whether they have desire or are without desire; whether they have anger or are without anger; whether they possess loving-kindness or lack loving-kindness; whether they are deluded or free from delusion; whether they possess wisdom or lack wisdom; whether they have afflictions or are free from afflictions; whether they have realized the Way and attained its fruit or have not realized the Way and attained its fruit;

whether their minds are distracted or pure; whether they are diligent or indolent.

He clearly knows whether their merit and wisdom are measurable or immeasurable. It is as though not far from a commandery, kingdom, district, or settlement there were a large watchtower or lofty pavilion, and a person standing upon it saw innumerable people coming and going, entering and leaving. A wise person who saw this would observe those entering and leaving.

The bhikshu is likewise: he sees the wholesome and unwholesome, good and bad states of people’s minds, together with every form and kind in the world.

The Buddha said:

“A bhikshu who has attained these supernormal powers recollects innumerable events from past lives, whether his mind was wise or deluded. He sees one life, ten lives, a hundred lives, a thousand lives, ten thousand lives, hundreds of thousands of lives, and innumerable lives, repeatedly coming and going through the formation and destruction of heaven and earth. He knows where a person was born and where he was later reborn; the place in which he dwelt; the name of the region; his lineage and name; his appearance; whether his life was long or short; whether he was beautiful or ugly; and whether he was wholesome or unwholesome.

He knows fully how one died there and was born here, or died here and was born there. It is as though a person went from one village to another, sitting, standing, speaking, sleeping, resting, and remaining silent, and then returned from that village to this one, sitting, standing, speaking, and walking in meditation: he would know all of it clearly. The bhikshu’s understanding is likewise as vast as the sea, and he sees innumerable events from past lives.”

The Buddha said:

“A bhikshu who has attained supernormal powers has a pure mind and an all-seeing eye of the Way that surpasses the sight of ordinary people. He sees beings dying and being born, wholesome and unwholesome, beautiful and ugly, and being reborn in good or evil realms. Those whose bodies perform wholesome deeds, whose mouths speak wholesome words, whose minds think wholesome thoughts, who contemplate rightly, and who do not hold wrong views, through these root causes are reborn in heaven when their lives end.

Those whose bodies perform evil deeds, whose mouths speak evil words, and whose minds think evil thoughts, through these root causes fall into evil destinies after death. It is like a person standing upon a lofty pavilion, seeing people walking to and fro, entering and leaving, sitting, joyful or sorrowful. The bhikshu is likewise: having attained supernormal powers, his all-seeing eye of the Way is pure and stainless, and he sees events of the past and future.”

The Buddha said:

“A bhikshu who has attained supernormal powers has exhausted the outflows and, through wisdom, realized the three attainments, so that he no longer has any doubt. He clearly knows the truth of suffering, the truth of its origin, the truth of its cessation, and the truth of the path. He eliminates the outflow of becoming and the outflow of non-becoming, and his mind is no longer deluded.

Clearly seeing the source, profound, firm, and unchanging, and seeing and knowing rightly in this way, he has transcended the outflow of sensual desire. If there is any outflow of delusion, his mind has already been purified and liberated. Having crossed over to liberation, his liberating wisdom is complete; birth and death have been severed, the holy life has been firmly established, what had to be done has been accomplished, and he knows the root of name-and-form.”

The Buddha said:

“Great King, this is the present fruit of the path of a shramana.”

At that time, Ajatashatru, king of Magadha, rose, bowed at the Buddha’s feet, and, remorsefully acknowledging his offense, addressed the Blessed One:

“I have committed a grave offense. I was like a foolish child, devoid of wisdom, deluded and bereft of reason, not knowing how to act skillfully and expediently. The Buddha is the Dharma King and the father and mother of all beings. He constantly establishes the true Dharma to save the deluded, and institutes teachings in which there is no anger, resentment, or obscuration. From this day forth and throughout my life, may the Blessed One permit me to take refuge. I myself recognize my evil faults and shall again receive the Buddha’s admonition. I vow to amend my past transgressions and cultivate accordingly in the future.”

The Buddha said:

“Great King, it is indeed as you have said: you were like a little child, foolish and devoid of wisdom, deluded and lacking skillful means, who took the life of his own father. Now that you have taken refuge in the Dharma King, recognized your offense yourself so that you may be reborn, and submitted to this Dharma and discipline, you shall obtain wholesome benefit and suffer no harm.”

Thereupon King Ajatashatru joined his palms toward the Buddha and said:

“May the Blessed One and the assembly of bhikshus accept my offering.”

The Buddha silently consented. Knowing that the Buddha had accepted, the king’s heart was filled with joy and delight. He circumambulated the Buddha three times, bowed, and withdrew.

When the king had withdrawn and was not far from the Buddha, he said to Prince Jivaka:

“You have greatly benefited me by enabling me to come before the Buddha, inquire into the Buddhadharma, draw near to the Blessed One, and be freed from a grave offense, causing that grave offense to become light.”

The Buddha told the bhikshus:

“King Ajatashatru has attained patience regarding non-arising. Although he harmed the Dharma King, he has learned to eliminate all defilements. The outflows are no more; he abides unwaveringly in the Dharma. Here and now, he has departed from every affliction and impurity and brought forth the Dharma-eye.”

The king returned to the royal palace and that very night prepared a hundred varieties of exquisite delicacies. Early the next morning, he went to the Buddha, bowed his head at the Buddha’s feet, and said:

“The time has come. May the Blessed One proceed to the meal.”

The Buddha then went to the royal palace together with the great assembly of the Bhikshu Sangha, surrounded by his retinue. When the Buddha and the Sangha had taken their seats, the king provided water for washing their feet and hands, then set forth food and drink and personally served the meal. After the Buddha and the Sangha had eaten and washed their hands, the king took a low seat, sat before the Buddha, and listened to the Buddha expound the Dharma.

The king said to the Buddha:

“May the Blessed One and the assembly of bhikshus accept my invitation to spend the summer retreat at the palace in Rajagriha. I shall make offerings without allowing anything to be lacking. I shall build five hundred monasteries as offerings to the Buddha, so that the one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikshus may have places to rest, and I shall offer all the granaries of grain, great and small, within the palace.”

The Buddha said:

“Great King, your joyful heart itself constitutes a complete offering to me. I have already accepted the invitation of the householder Sudatta to spend the summer retreat in the kingdom of Shravasti.”

The king said to the Buddha:

“That householder of that kingdom has obtained great wholesome benefit. The Buddha, the Deva among devas, has already accepted his invitation.”

The Buddha then expounded the Dharma to King Ajatashatru, causing the king’s mind to open and understand. The Buddha spoke this verse:

Among fires, the sacrificial fire of the shrine;

Among sacrifices, the supreme oblation;

Among humankind, the honored king;

The ocean is the source of all streams.

The moon is brightest among the stars;

The sun illuminates the day,

Traversing above and below,

Nurturing all living shoots.

In heaven and among humankind,

The Buddha’s path is supreme.

When the Buddha had spoken thus, King Ajatashatru, the bhikshus, the devas, and the asuras rejoiced upon hearing the sutra, bowed in homage, and withdrew.

THE SUTRA OF THE FRUIT OF THE RECLUSE, SPOKEN BY THE BUDDHA