分別功德論

The Buddha said to the bhikkhus: The Buddha is one of Great Compassion, who wishes to cause his disciples to fully comprehend the meaning of recollecting the Buddha (buddhānusmṛti). Just as a father, relying upon admonitions, instructs his children and grandchildren, so as to bring them to accomplishment, not in order to obtain repayment for himself. The disciple, having single-mindedly and diligently recollected the Buddha, contemplates the form and marks of the Tathāgata, his eyes never once turning away. Just as the Venerable Ānanda contemplated the Buddha without weariness, his mindfulness never ceasing.

At this time, a boil arose upon the back of the Venerable Ānanda, and the Buddha directed Jīvaka to treat it. Jīvaka addressed the Buddha: I dare not lay my hand upon the back of the Venerable Ānanda. The Buddha said to Jīvaka: Only treat it, and do not doubt. I Myself shall, for the sake of the Venerable Ānanda, expound the Dharma, causing him to feel no pain.

The Tathāgata caused the Venerable Ānanda continually to gaze upon the excellent marks of the Buddha, and the Buddha, for the sake of the Venerable, expounded the Dharma.

The body of the Tathāgata pertains to the adamantine (vajra) that cannot be destroyed. It is formed of the merit of three thousand two hundred meritorious qualities of blessed reward. The Venerable Ānanda gazed with his eyes without tiring, listened with his ears without weariness, and held it in mind without letting go. At that time, Jīvaka lanced the boil upon the back of the Venerable Ānanda and applied medicine. The Buddha asked the Venerable Ānanda: Did you feel any pain upon your back? The Venerable Ānanda replied: I felt no pain.

That he felt no pain was due to the recollection of the Buddha.

The ten powers are accomplished together with the four kinds of fearlessness. In olden times, there was an elder (gṛhapati) who, leading along a maidservant, went to pay reverence at a stūpa, reciting: "Homage to the World-Honored One of ten powers!" The maidservant, paying reverence behind him, recited: "Homage to the Tathāgata of eleven powers." The elder said: The Tathāgata indeed has ten powers; why do you recite eleven?

The maidservant replied: What hindrance is there in eleven powers? Only one should not say nine powers. To say eleven powers is to add one power—what fault is there in that?

The elder fell silent and returned home. He then asked the Dharma masters: How many powers does the Tathāgata have? They answered: Some say there are three powers.

Some say there are ten powers. Some say they are innumerable. Speaking according to this, then is it not limited to ten?

The elder thereupon went forth and studied the Way, and released the maidservant from serving the household. To say four is not to be insufficient. To say innumerable is not to be in excess.

Befitting the occasion and responding to beings, there is no fixed measure.

– The Recollection of the Dharma (dharmānusmṛti): From desire to non-desire. From desire to the Way. From the outflows (āsrava) to non-outflows. From the conditioned to the unconditioned. By what means is this known? In former days, the World-Honored One was in the country of King Udayana, expounding the Dharma and teaching. At that time, the World-Honored One ascended to the Heaven of the Thirty-Three (Trāyastriṃśa Heaven) and, for the sake of his mother Māyā, expounded the Dharma; only after ninety days did he return to the human realm, descending from the north of the city of Kāśi. At that time, the bhikṣuṇī Utpalavarṇā harbored the thought of wishing to be the one who, by herself, would see the Buddha first. The various kings of the realms had not beheld the Buddha for ninety days, and all, with feelings of longing and admiration, gathered together in full assembly. The bhikṣuṇī Utpalavarṇā reflected: I am a bhikṣuṇī; I should not be among this crowded, clamorous multitude. I must devise a fitting means in order to be the first to welcome the Buddha. She thereupon transformed herself into a Wheel-Turning Sage King (Cakravartin), with a retinue all conforming to the dharma of a Sage King. When the lesser kings of the realms beheld the Sage King, they all withdrew far aside. The bhikṣuṇī then reverted to her former form and met the Buddha, paying reverence and inquiring after his welfare. The various kings all came to have audience with the Buddha; no longer seeing the Wheel-Turning King, they then understood that it had been a manifestation produced by this bhikṣuṇī, and they said: Was what we just beheld a deception such as this? At this time, the bhikṣuṇī Utpalavarṇā reckoned herself to be the first to see the Buddha. The Buddha said to Utpalavarṇā: You reckon yourself the first to see the Buddha, but there is one who saw the Buddha before you. Do you clearly know who it is? The Buddha said: At the foot of the mountain to the east of the city of Rājagṛha, the Venerable Subhūti is mending his robe there. A deva informed him, saying: The Buddha has returned to the human realm. Subhūti said: I am a disciple; according to the Dharma, I ought to go to pay reverence and to make inquiry. He further reflected within himself: Where is the Buddha now present? Is it that the golden-hued radiance is the Buddha? Yet does gold have any limit or measure? The Buddha has taught: All dharmas are empty, are without anything possessed; if one clearly understands that the twelvefold causation is empty—uncreated, unmade, without person, without man, without lifespan, without one who possesses a lifespan—this is to see the Dharma. To see the Dharma as without lifespan, as that which is not lifespan, is to see me. He then joined his palms and recited: "Namo!" It is indeed thus! And he sat back down to mend his robe. Speaking according to this, Subhūti was the one who saw the Buddha before you!

The Buddha is the lord of all dharmas. To clearly understand that dharmas are empty is the recollection of the Dharma.

– The Recollection of the Saṅgha (saṅghānusmṛti): This is the assembly of the Worthy Ones and Sages. As for assemblies in general, there are so many kinds. The ninety-five varieties of outsiders (tīrthikas) each likewise have their assemblies. Some are harmonious. Some are not in accord. They too use precepts and disciplinary codes to restrain themselves. Some practice meditative concentration. Some hold non-perception (asaṃjñā) to be the most sublime and supreme. All trust in their own practices, reckoning them to be true and real. Yet they do not attain the true Eightfold Noble Path with its factors, and therefore they cannot reach Nirvāṇa. Although there are among them those who attain the five supernormal powers, who live long and enter into non-perception, prolonging it for kalpas, none of them escape birth and death. Only the Noble Assembly of the Tathāgata, comprising those who have attained the four directions and four fruits, is no longer swept along and adrift by the four swift things (the four floods, ogha?), the nine things being severed and stilled so that they are scattered apart. Thus the sūtra says: Among the ninety-six kinds of saṅghas, the saṅgha of the Buddha is the most true and real. The fourfold assembly of the Tathāgata is all of the same Śākya lineage. It is comparable to the four rivers of the Ganges, each having its own five hundred tributaries, all merging into the great ocean to share a single taste. The assembly is likewise. Some are of the Kṣatriya clan. Some are of the Brāhmaṇa clan. Some are of the clan of elders and householders. Among the four castes, those who go forth and study the Way are all alike of the Śākya lineage, of one surname, without such separate designations. Because the scope of its embrace is ever further, in meaning it is ever more deep and vast. The assembly of the Saṅgha indeed receives all of the three vehicles. The saṅgha of Arhats also arises from this. Those of the rank of Pratyekabuddhas are also within it. The saṅgha of the Great Vehicle is likewise. Therefore it is called the foremost field of blessings, most excellent. In rescuing the beings of the three realms, nothing surpasses that excellent "field of earth." Although the Tathāgata has already accomplished Perfect Enlightenment, he still constantly turns back toward the assembly of the Saṅgha to make confession. This is because the "earth" of the Saṅgha is thick and weighty. The Buddhas of the three times, the Pratyekabuddhas, and the Śrāvakas—there is none who did not, by means of the Saṅgha, attain final extinction. Just as the bhikṣu Brahmadatta, by means of the Noble Assembly, was rescued and delivered in full.

– The Recollection of the Precepts (śīlānusmṛti): This means upholding the pure precepts, which encompass all the rules of conduct. Just as a potter uses various kinds of clay, mud, and so forth to form vessels for containing things—large and small, square and round—all suited to the desires of the user. The precepts are likewise. Some vow to be born in the heavens and to receive the blessings of the three realms. Some wish to sever the fetters and seek the Way; their aspirations all accord with their intent. It is like the auspicious vase (kalaśa), which, according to the wish of the one who holds it, yields whatever is desired. Taking the precepts as the root, one constantly practices the thirty-seven factors and the various samādhis and concentrations, severs the seven proclivities and the nine fetters, and advances to accomplish Nirvāṇa—comparable to clay becoming a vessel, which can no longer be destroyed.

– The Recollection of Giving (tyāgānusmṛti): That is, giving has two matters: there is giving with an owner, and giving without an owner. Again there are two kinds of giving: the first is called giving (dāna); the second is called relinquishing (tyāga). Again there are two kinds of giving: the first is material wealth; the second is the teaching of the Dharma. To give is giving with an owner. To relinquish is giving without an owner. To relinquish is to relinquish the fetters. To give is when the one before you receives material wealth or the teaching of the Dharma.

The reason giving reaches Nirvāṇa: it is that, when one gives material wealth or the teaching of the Dharma to others, if the mind does not hanker after fruit and reward, and does not grasp at self or other, then through the unobstructedness of the three matters it is identical with liberation. Or one may be able to relinquish the fetters, which is also Nirvāṇa. Relinquishing and giving both reach Nirvāṇa. Just as the elephant obeys the brave boy, advancing and retreating. If both gain the flesh, then advancing breaks and routs the army forces, while retreating loses the chance to eat the flesh—it is necessarily so.

– The Recollection of the Heavens (devatānusmṛti): There are three kinds of devas (heavens): there is the deva by elevation, the deva by birth, and the deva of purity.

What is the deva by elevation? This means the Wheel-Turning Sage King, who is elevated by the recommendation of all people. The reason he is called a deva: it is because the Sage King possesses the ten virtues with which he teaches and transforms the world, causing people all to be born in the heavens.

Because he is above ordinary people, he is called a deva. Some say: The Sage King surpasses the Buddha. On what grounds is this said?

Because when the Sage King governs the world, people do not fall into the evil destinies. When the Buddha appears in the world, the three evil destinies are not cut off. For this reason he is superior.

Yet there is also a teaching that says: The Buddha surpasses the Sage King. The reason it is said he is superior is that the Sage King, using the ten virtues to teach and transform the world, does not surpass humans and devas. The Buddha appears and teaches and transforms the world to reach Nirvāṇa.

For this reason he is superior.

What is the deva by birth? It is, from the four Deva Kings up to the twenty-eight heavens, those people who receive blessings—all are devas by birth; therefore they are called devas by birth. Flowing and circling without cease, not departing from birth and death, they are therefore called devas by birth.

What is the deva of purity? It is the three ranks—Buddha, Pratyekabuddha, and Śrāvaka—who have all severed and exhausted the fetters and proclivities, gone forth from the three realms, pure and without desire; therefore they are called devas of purity.

The Eight Pure Abode Heavens (Śuddhāvāsa): These surpass the devas by birth and the devas by elevation, yet are not equal to the abode of purity; being in the midst between these, they are the object of reverence and admiration for those who recollect the heavens. By recollecting birth and elevation, there is also the principle of reaching Nirvāṇa. Why?

The story is told that in the city of Śrāvastī there was a married couple who were lay devotees (upāsakas) without children or grandchildren; both were diligent, their minds ever recollecting the Three Jewels. At that time, the wife died young and was born in the Heaven of the Thirty-Three, becoming a divine maiden (apsaras) of incomparable beauty, with few in that heaven her equal. This divine maiden reflected within herself: What is my husband doing now?

She then used the divine eye to survey the human world and saw that her former husband had gone forth and was studying the Way; being advanced in years and of slight intelligence, he merely held single-minded faith, and his customary task was using a broom to sweep and tidy the stūpa shrines. Seeing such diligence, by principle he ought to be born in the heavens, and would surely again become her husband. At this time, the former husband was in his quiet chamber, sitting alone and reflecting, when suddenly a radiance appeared.

Taking it to be something strange, he raised his head to look and saw a divine maiden. He then asked who she was and whence she came. The divine maiden replied: I have come here from the Heaven of the Thirty-Three; I was originally your wife, and am now a divine maiden.

In that heaven, none will take me as his wife. Seeing you ever diligent in your work, I have come back to become your wife. For this reason I have come here to make my intent known.

Having said this, she suddenly vanished and returned to the heaven.

From that time onward, the aged bhikṣu grew ever more diligent, and also took up the repairing of old stūpa shrines, neither morning nor evening growing lax. Through the accumulation of his efforts, his merit and virtue grew ever greater, and so he was born in the fourth heaven, Tuṣita. The divine maiden again used the divine eye to survey, and saw that her former husband had been born in Tuṣita Heaven. She came again and said: You have accumulated diligence and have already surpassed my realm. I again cannot have you as my husband. Having said this, she withdrew.

This bhikṣu became ever more diligent, surpassing his former times. By day he practiced walking meditation; by night he sat in meditation. His mind and intent turned bright, contemplating the Four Truths. In this way, before long, he attained Arhatship. This is the recollection of the heavens reaching Nirvāṇa.

– The Recollection of Cessation (upaśamānusmṛti): This means attaining concentration. Cessation has two kinds: there is the cessation of the worldly, and there is the cessation of the Way.

The cessation of the worldly: It is like laboring at tasks to the point of fatigue in order to be rid of indolence, but the abiding is very slight.

The cessation of the Way: This is the person who practices concentration. By what means is this known?

In olden times, there was a bhikṣu named Saṃgha-saṃmata (Equally Acclaimed), who sat in meditation and entered concentration near the edge of a great road. At that time, five hundred carts passed by; the noise was extremely violent, yet the one sitting in meditation remained utterly unaware of anything. Then the sky brought forth peals of thunder one after another, and in a moment the earth quaked, yet the bhikṣu in concentration heard and knew none of it.

As people passed by, the various dusts and earth piled up ever more, covering and clinging all over his robe. There were those who drew near and saw this bhikṣu sitting upright, motionless, dust and earth clinging all over his robe, all without his being aware. When the bhikṣu emerged from concentration, he cheerfully brushed and beat off the dust and earth.

The passersby asked: Were you just now asleep? He answered: No. They asked again: If you were not asleep, then how is it that just now a procession of carts passed by, the sky thundered, and the earth quaked, yet you neither knew nor were startled?

The bhikṣu answered: At that time I had entered the samādhi of cessation, and so I heard and knew nothing at all.

Speaking according to this, the one who attains the concentration of cessation—though heaven and earth should collapse and fall—does not alter his resolve. Therefore it is called the concentration of cessation.

– The Recollection of Breathing (ānāpānānusmṛti): This is to put an end to all the rushing about during seated meditation. The path leading toward the Way is not by a single road alone. The directions and bearings of awakening each have their place. By what means is this known?

The story is told that the Venerable Śāriputra, in the distant past, made offerings to fourteen koṭis of Buddhas, following the Buddhas to hear the Dharma, yet never practiced the dharma of recollecting the breath. Down to the era of the Buddha Śākyamuni, following the bhikṣu Aśvajit, he then attained emptiness, that is, he saw the "Traces of the Way." The Buddha expounded it fully; his wisdom was complete, his fetters exhausted, his comprehension thorough; he is now foremost in wisdom—yet it was not through the dharma of recollecting the breath that he attained Nirvāṇa.

The Venerable Maudgalyāyana, in olden times, for thirty kalpas made offerings to the Buddhas and cultivated the practice of the Great Vehicle, but could not bring it to completion; meeting the World-Honored One, he withdrew and held to the rank of "Exhaustion of the Outflows." From of old until now he had never practiced the dharma of recollecting the breath.

The bhikṣu Kāśyapa, in olden times, likewise made offerings to thirty thousand Tathāgatas, yet had likewise never cultivated the dharma of recollecting the breath, and so attained the fruit of Pratyekabuddhahood; now, having regressed, he is an Arhat.

The bhikṣu Aśvajit, in former days, likewise made offerings to seven Buddhas, and likewise did not cultivate the dharma of recollecting the breath; now too he has exhausted all the outflows.

The Venerable Ānanda, in olden times, made offerings to twenty thousand Tathāgatas, and had followed the Buddhas in questioning and receiving the teaching of the Dharma; he too did not practice the counting of the breath.

Only Rāhula and Mahā-kapphiṇa, from olden times until now, have ever practiced this dharma, and now too have attained the Way.

Speaking according to this, the path leading toward the Way is not by a single road alone.

The Recollection of Breathing: This is to discern the breath as long or short, cold or hot, slow or fast, from coarse to subtle, gradually subduing scattered thoughts and reaching the sublime. Some, by means of the breath, attain awakening. Some discern it so as to understand clearly. Some practice the dhūta austerities so as to keep their discipline. Some, being learned, remember well. Some, by the bases of supernormal power, know deeply and far. Some by washing and purifying, some by instruction, attain awakening. This is what is called "different roads" (diverse paths) that nonetheless converge upon one place (common return).

– The Recollection of the Body (kāyānusmṛti): This means discerning the four great elements and clearly understanding the five aggregates, which are all alike illusion and dream. By what means is it known that the recollection of the body reaches Nirvāṇa?

In olden times, about a hundred years after the Buddha entered Nirvāṇa, there was King Aśoka, lord of the continent of Jambudvīpa, whose ministers, consorts, elephants, and horses each numbered eighty-four thousand. At that time, the king went on a tour throughout the realm and saw that King Yama had eighteen hells, with officials too who performed the work of convening and interrogating the guilty. King Aśoka asked his attendants: What sort of people are these?

They answered: This is the king of the dead, master of distinguishing good and evil. The king said: The king of the dead can still create hells to punish the guilty. I am the king of the living—can I not also create a hell?

He then asked his ministers: Who is able to perform this work? The ministers reported: Only an utterly evil person can create a hell. The king ordered the ministers to go and seek out an evil person.

The ministers, receiving the command, went searching everywhere and found a man sitting on the ground weaving wool, beside whom were a bow and arrows, together with various implements for hooking and catching fish. He also used poisoned rice to lure sparrows. Even as he wove wool, he caught fish, shot birds, and seized sparrows.

The ministers returned to the palace and reported to the king that there was such an evil man. The king said: This man is utterly evil and will surely be able to carry out the matters of the hell. The king sent a man to say to him: The Great King wishes to see you!

The evil man replied: I am a lowly person, without understanding. What use has the king for me? The official said: The king wishes to obtain you to administer the work of the hell.

The evil man then returned to his home, where there was his aged mother, and said to her: The king has sent men to summon me. His mother asked: Why has the king summoned you? The son replied: The king wishes to assign me to administer the affairs of the hell.

The mother said: If you go, how shall I live? Having said this, the mother then clasped her son's legs tightly and would not let go. The son, his mind already set on going, drew his knife and slew his mother, then went to the king.

The king asked: Your mother would not release you—how did you manage to come here? He reported: I killed my mother and came. The king pronounced: Truly an evil man—he will surely be able to do the work of the hell well.

He then assigned this man to build the walls of the hell, to set up cauldrons of boiling water and forests of swords, and bowed in reverence, installing him as king of the hell, and also established officials to assist him, all in accordance with the regulations of King Yama. The king carefully instructed him: If anyone enters this city, regardless of whether noble or lowly, you have full authority to punish them. The king further said: Even should I myself enter therein, you must not let me out.

At this time, there was an aged bhikṣu named Samuddhāta (Well-Awakened), who, always going about for alms, came to the gate of this city. Standing outside, he saw beautiful flowers giving off fragrance and supposed that there were people within, so he entered—only to see the guilty being punished. Terrified, he wished to go back out, but the hell-warden would not permit it, and led him instead to the place of the cauldron of boiling water.

The man of the Way pleaded for rescue, saying: Please spare me until midday. In a short while, two persons, a man and a woman, who because they had committed lust were led in here to be punished. Both were placed in a great mortar, and the hell-warden used a pestle to pound them, so that in a moment they turned into a mass of foam.

When the man of the Way saw this, he then recalled the Buddha's teaching: The human body is like a mass of foam gathered together. How true indeed is that teaching! In an instant it changed again into white color.

The man of the Way recollected further: The human body is like a heap of white ashes, changing in ways not single, like an illusion, like a transformation; examined closely, it is not real. Thereupon his mind awakened, his outflows exhausted, his fetters ended. The hell-warden again urged and pressed to put him into the cauldron of boiling water.

The aged bhikṣu smiled. The hell-warden, enraged, ordered four men to grip him firmly under both arms and to thrust him head-downward into the cauldron, whereupon the boiling water at once became cool water. The bhikṣu then conjured up a thousand lotus blossoms, and within the lotus blossoms sat in the cross-legged posture.

The hell-warden, astonished, reported to King Aśoka: Now within the hell there is a strange and wondrous matter; I humbly beg the king to spare a moment to come and look upon it. The king said: I previously gave careful instruction: Even should I myself enter therein, do not let me out. How then can I now enter there?

The official reported: Only enter; you shall not undergo suffering. The king then followed him in and saw the man of the Way sitting peacefully upon a lotus blossom. The king asked: Who are you?

He answered: I am a man of the Way. The man of the Way said to the king: The king is a deluded man. The king asked: Why do you call me a deluded man?

The man of the Way said: In olden times, when you were a young boy, you used a handful of earth to offer up to the Buddha, and the Buddha received it and made the prophetic blessing: In a later age you shall become king of the continent of Jambudvīpa, an Iron-Wheel King named Aśoka, who in a single day shall erect eighty-four thousand Buddha stūpas. Is this hell a Buddha stūpa? The mind and intent of the king then awakened, and so he made confession of his former faults, took Samuddhāta as his teacher, abolished the hell, fostered blessings, and erected eighty-four thousand stūpa shrines.

Speaking according to this, the recollection of the body attains Nirvāṇa—such is its meaning.

What is the recollection of death (maraṇānusmṛti) reaching Nirvāṇa?

In olden times, King Aśoka revered the Dharma with diligence, and constantly made offerings to five hundred members of the Saṅgha within the inner palace, the four necessities never lacking. Outside, he also undertook to provide for five hundred almsmen dwelling in the araṇya (forest hermitage). He also bestowed implements upon five hundred persons, making offerings to them accordingly.

At the four gates of the city, he established places of provision for the poor and destitute. Making offerings and providing for so many, and for so long, the treasures and wealth gradually diminished. At that time, the king's younger brother, named Sudatta (?) (Tu-già-đố-lộ), did not believe in the Three Jewels.

The great minister Yaśas and the consort Suyū (?) likewise did not believe. The three of one mind contrived trouble for the king, constantly remonstrating: Making offerings to ascetics causes the wealth of the nation to be exhausted; why do you perform such work? The king said: You should carefully guard your words.

As for how a gentleman conducts himself in the world, the reason his body comes to be cut down is from evil speech. Sudatta reported to the king: These ascetics are all young in years; their food and drink are ever savory, and their carnal desires arise ever more strongly; moreover they dwell in the deep palace, a place with many women—how can they be trusted? The king said: The ascetics constantly restrain their forms, using the Dharma to ward and guard themselves, reducing the body and keeping the precepts, not commanded about by lust and desire.

Afterward, Sudatta went hunting and saw a herd of deer, in the midst of which there was a man who had spread a net to surround and catch them. Sudatta met this man and asked: Who are you? He answered: When I was eight years old, I lost both my parents and fled into the mountains, where I drank the milk of deer, and from that time until now.

He asked again: When the deer had no milk, what did you take for food? He answered: I followed the herd of deer, eating grass and leaves to sustain myself. He asked again: Have you ever had desirous thoughts?

He answered: I have.

Sudatta returned to the palace and reported the matter to the king: That man eats grass and leaves, his body lean and emaciated, and still he has desirous feelings—how much more the ascetics, who eat and drink savory food and whose bodies are strong and healthy; how should they not have desirous feelings? The king reflected within himself: What means should I devise to convert and deliver this younger brother? He then set up a stratagem, falsely announcing that he was about to go forth on an excursion, assembling a great multitude of troops and attendants, putting all in order to set out.

The king secretly returned to the palace and hid himself, not appearing. The king had previously discussed with his ministers: If I go forth on an excursion, afterward you should elevate my younger brother to be king. The ministers then urged the king's younger brother to try on the royal robes.

The younger brother feigned unwillingness. The ministers said: Only try them on before us. The younger brother then put on the royal robes and donned the royal crown, and the ministers together cried: "Long live the king!"—standing in attendance to left and right, in accordance with the dharma of a Sage King.

King Aśoka, having seen the matter clearly, then came in from outside and said: Who is it that is like a great king? The younger brother, seeing the king, was ashamed and flushed red, not knowing what to do. King Aśoka said: I had just gone forth on an excursion—why did you straightway do this thing?

Is my Iron Wheel no longer present, that you so soon behave as though there were no one at all? In but a moment I shall execute you. He then ordered the ministers to seize and bind him, fastening him in fetters and cangue, and secretly sent a trusted man to address the man of the Way: Thus-Minded (?) has this intent; you should come to rescue him.

He is about to be killed; but considering that you have been king for too short a time and have not yet had your fill, I now again entrust to you the kingship for seven days, exactly as my own royal dharma, with ministers in attendance, palace ladies and courtesans, food and drink presented up. When you have had your fill within seven days, you shall undergo the punishment. Accordingly, it was carried out as instructed, but Sudatta no longer had any heart to enjoy himself.

A man of the Way came to make a request, holding his bowl and propping his staff, going to the gate of the king's palace. The king asked: Master, what do you come here to request? He answered: I wish to ask for the one condemned to death.

The king said: This guilty man deserves death; the man of the Way may not ask for him. The man of the Way again said: I ask only to make him one who practices the Way, that he may be made to study the Way. The king said: Ask him whether he is able to study the Way.

The man of the Way then went to the guilty man and asked: Now I ask you to become a śrāmaṇera—can it be? He answered: Even to be made a slave I would accept, how much more to become a śrāmaṇera. The king pronounced: To become a man of the Way is very hard; one must examine carefully whether one is able to do it or not.

The dharma of one who practices the Way is to wear coarse clothing and to eat and drink in hardship, merely in order to maintain bodily life and to practice the Way. You are accustomed to much pleasure—how can you endure such austerities? He answered: One who deserved to die, and gets to live—how should he not be able to endure austerities?

The king said: If you can endure it, then it is permitted.

He had him beg for alms for seven days. The king instructed those within the palace: When Sudatta comes to beg for alms, give him only the very worst food, or various leftovers, foul and spoiled. Sudatta, wearing old, torn robes, came to the various quarters to beg for alms, and everywhere obtained only the worst food.

Because of the weighty feeling of having escaped death, he willingly ate that worst food. When the full seven days had passed, the king, seeing that his younger brother had no regret, then permitted him to cultivate the Way, saying: You constantly used to say: The men of the Way are at ease and pleasure, have many desirous feelings, and are hard to trust. The place where you have just been begging for alms was within the king's own palace, and was still fine.

The men of the Way who beg for alms fare far worse than this; with such food and drink, how could they have lust and desire? He then entrusted him to Thus-Minded (?) to become a śramaṇa, sending him to the city of Stone-Chamber (Pāṭaliputra?). Within that city he practiced the various meditative contemplations.

Sometimes he dwelt in the charnel grounds, sometimes at the foot of a tree. At one time, in the charnel grounds, he contemplated the corpse of a dead person; at night he saw a hungry ghost (preta) beating a corpse. The śramaṇa Sudatta asked: Why do you beat this corpse?

He answered: Because it has so afflicted me with misery; for this reason I beat it. The man of the Way said: Why do you not beat your own mind? What use is there in beating that corpse?

In a short while there came again a deva, who scattered the heavenly mandārava flowers upon a corpse. The man of the Way again asked: Why do you scatter flowers upon this foul and stinking corpse? He answered: It is by means of this corpse that I attained birth in heaven.

That corpse is my good friend, and so I have come here to scatter flowers in recompense for the kindness of former days. The man of the Way said: Why do you not scatter flowers within your own mind, but instead scatter flowers upon that foul and stinking corpse? Now the root of good and evil lies within the mind; do you, on the contrary, abandon the root to take up the branch?

At this time, Sudatta reflected within himself: I, from death, got to live; through these causes and conditions I attained liberation. With regard to that contemplation of the body and recollection of death, contemplating, discerning, and clearly understanding impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and non-self (no body), he then attained Arhatship. Speaking according to this, the recollection of death also reaches Nirvāṇa.

THE END — FASCICLE 3