根本說一切有部毘奈耶雜事

Fascicle Twenty-Five

Third summary verse in the sixth section of separate topics:

– At one time, the Buddha was staying in the Lofty Hall by the bank of the Monkey Pond in the city of Quảng Nghiêm. Many brahmins and householders had gathered in one place and were discussing together: “The ascetic Kiều Đáp Ma is addicted to sensual pleasures, and his śrāvakas are also exceedingly greedy.”

When these words were spoken, the householder Dũng Kiện, who was seated among the assembly and had heard their discussion, said:

“This matter is not yet known to be true or false. I suggest that you personally test whether the Great Teacher, the Blessed One, has few desires or many desires, and likewise test his assembly of śrāvakas.”

After returning home and inspecting all his implements of gold and silver, the householder went to the Blessed One, bowed his head at the Buddha’s feet, inquired after his health, and sat to one side.

The Blessed One taught him the wondrous Dharma, bringing him benefit and joy, and then remained silent.

Rising from his seat, baring his right shoulder, and joining his palms toward the Buddha, the householder said:

“May the Blessed One compassionately come with the community of bhikshus to my home tomorrow morning and accept a modest meal offering.”

The Buddha silently consented. Knowing that the Buddha had accepted, the householder took his leave and returned home.

The householder also went and invited the non-Buddhist ascetics:

“Tomorrow morning I have invited the Buddha and the Sangha to my home for a meal. You venerable ones should come and dine there as well.”

The householder then went to the brahmins and laypeople in the city and told them:

“I have invited the Buddha, the Sangha, and the non-Buddhist ascetics to dine at my home tomorrow morning. You may come together and rejoice in making offerings to the Buddha and the Sangha.”

That very night, the householder prepared superior, fragrant, delicious foods and drinks of both kinds—those to be bitten and those to be chewed. Early the next morning, after arranging seats, water basins, tooth-sticks, cleansing powder, and all other necessities, he sent a messenger to inform the Buddha:

“The food is ready; Venerable Sir, it is time.”

Early that morning, the Buddha and the noble assembly put on their robes, took their bowls, went to the householder’s home, and sat upon the seats prepared for them.

The householder and the brahmin laypeople brought beautiful trays bearing bowls and dishes made of gold, silver, beryl, and exceptional crystal, intending to serve the Buddha and the Sangha with them.

The Buddha told Ānanda:

“Go and tell the bhikshus that the householder intends to test them and has therefore set out four kinds of trays containing precious objects. They must not accept them.”

Venerable Ānanda did as the Buddha instructed. On hearing the instruction, not a single bhikshu accepted those objects.

Seeing this, the householder used red and white vessels to hold the superior, fragrant, delicious food and personally served everyone until they were fully satisfied.

After the meal, when they had cleaned their teeth, rinsed their mouths, and put away their bowls, the householder spread out a low mat and sat before the Blessed One.

The Buddha taught the Dharma, bringing him benefit and joy, recited verses transferring the merit of the offering, and then departed.

Meanwhile, the non-Buddhist ascetics behaved improperly and without decorum, sitting chaotically and out of order. The householder instructed the gatekeeper:

“If you see the non-Buddhist ascetics carrying precious implements of gold, silver, beryl, or crystal through the gate, take them back. If they say, ‘The householder gave these to us,’ tell them, ‘He handed them to you during the meal; he did not give them to you permanently.’ If they refuse to return them, restrain them, strike them, and seize the objects.”

The householder brought out four trays of precious objects for the non-Buddhist ascetics. They immediately shouted demands: “Give me the golden tray!” or “Give me the silver object!” They caused disorder, competed angrily, struck one another with sticks and fists, kicked and punched one another, and traded insults. It was an ugly sight. Seeing this, the householder displayed anger, made them quiet down, and served the food. After eating, they carried the objects toward the gate.

When the gatekeeper stopped them, they said:

“The householder gave these to us. Why are you detaining us?”

He replied:

“He only handed them to you during the meal; he did not give them to you permanently. Leave them behind, and then you may go.”

They refused to leave them, so the gatekeeper struck them. They quarreled together, and the uproar resounded outside. Hearing the commotion, all the city’s inhabitants—men and women, old and young—gathered there.

The householder said to them:

“Do you see the difference between the Buddha and the Sangha and these non-Buddhist ascetics?”

They replied:

“We see it.”

The householder said:

“The Buddha and the noble assembly have few desires and know contentment. By contrast, the non-Buddhist ascetics entice one another through wicked practices.”

Seeing this, everyone’s reverence and faith in the Buddha and the Sangha increased. Those among them who had lacked faith or had been half-believing and half-doubtful now also developed faith in the Buddha and the Sangha.

After returning to his dwelling, washing his feet, and taking his customary seat among the great assembly, the Buddha told the bhikshus:

“The practice of having few desires brings such great benefit. Therefore, bhikshus must not eat or drink from precious vessels made of gold, silver, beryl, or crystal. Whoever does so commits an offense of transgression. Those who are free from desire may act according to the donor’s wishes.”

When bhikshus went to the heavens or dragon palaces, the merit of the beings there caused all food vessels to be made of precious gold, with no ordinary vessels available. Ordinary bhikshus feared violating the precepts and did not dare eat from them, so they reported the matter to the Buddha. The Buddha said:

“If no other implements can be found in such a place and they set out implements of precious gold, you are permitted to use them. Do not be fearful or doubtful.”

– The Buddha was in the city of Thất La Phiệt. In that city lived a householder who was rich, possessed much wealth, and enjoyed a life as prosperous as that of King Vaiśravaṇa. Not long after he married, his wife became pregnant. From that day onward, her body became radiant and beautiful, unlike before. When her term was complete, she gave birth to a girl whose body was lovely, pleasing to all who saw her, and perfect and beautiful in appearance. On the day of her birth, the room shone brightly like sunlight, and reports of this auspicious sign spread throughout the city and its villages. People said among themselves:

“A certain householder has had a daughter of extraordinary beauty. Everyone who sees her is delighted, and her form is full and graceful. On the day of her birth, the room shone brightly like the sun.”

Every day, tens of thousands of curious people came to the householder’s home to see this marvel.

At that time, a physiognomist from another region, skilled in making predictions, heard of this marvel and came to see her. After examining her, he looked in all four directions and told everyone:

“Do you know that this girl possesses physical marks unequaled in the world? According to the books on physiognomy, she will have sexual relations with five hundred men.”

The people said:

“Judging from her extraordinary appearance, even five hundred men would not be astonishing.”

The physiognomist’s prediction became known far and near. People competed to come and see her, crowding together like wedges and filling the streets with noise.

When twenty-one days had passed, the householder held a great celebration and invited all his relatives to name his daughter. When asked what name should be given to the child, everyone said that because the room had shone like sunlight on the day of her birth, she should be named Diệu Quang, Wondrous Radiance.

The householder appointed eight wet nurses to raise the girl together, as explained fully elsewhere. When she grew up, she was extraordinarily beautiful and charming beyond compare. She mastered every kind of music, flute, and stringed instrument.

Her appearance was brilliant and majestic, her silks were fragrant, and as she remained alone in her radiant chamber she resembled a heavenly maiden in the Garden of Wondrous Flowers. Her extraordinary figure was delightful to behold, brilliant and rarely seen in the world. Even secluded sages and people free from desire would develop sensual passion upon seeing her.

How much more, then, would young men, whose afflictions had accumulated since beginningless time and whose lust was powerful, be captivated by her? Her father and the household servants guarded her strictly day and night and never let her out of their sight.

At that time, the crown prince and ministers of King Thắng Quang of Kiều Tát La, as well as princes from other kingdoms, came to seek her hand in marriage. Yet when they learned of the physiognomist’s prediction that Diệu Quang would have sexual relations with five hundred men, they all withdrew in shame and dissatisfaction. Nevertheless, many people inside and outside secretly peered into the house through its doors and windows.

Despite the guard, it was difficult to restrain them. Seeing this, the householder feared disaster in his home and could find no peace. He thought, “My daughter is grown.

Even if an unsuitable man comes to ask for her, I shall give her to him.” But everyone feared disgrace, and no one married her. Seeing that no one came to seek her hand, the householder became sorrowful and distressed, fell ill, and grew thin and emaciated.

In the city was another householder who was rich and possessed much property. Not long after he married, his wife died. He found a second wife, but she too died, and so it continued through his seventh wife. Because in a previous life he had caused his wife to die prematurely, the residual effects of that evil karma now followed him. People of that time called him “Wife-Killer.” Unable to live alone, the householder Wife-Killer sought another wife and went to households with daughters to propose marriage.

Their parents said:

“Could it be that I wish to kill my own daughter?”

He then considered seeking marriage with widows. They all replied:

“Could it be that we wish to kill ourselves?”

After searching everywhere without finding a woman, the householder abandoned his desire to marry. He went to live among non-Buddhist ascetics and various other practitioners of the holy life, but then thought, “My father formerly was an upāsaka of the Buddha. Why should I now follow non-Buddhist ascetics? I should live among the Buddha’s disciples, first drawing near and making offerings, and finally going forth.”

Seeing him frequently visit the Jeta Grove, an old friend asked:

“You often enter the monastery. Are you seeking to go forth?”

He replied:

“I now live alone and may be regarded as already gone forth. Why should I need to seek it?”

When asked why, he answered:

“After my wife died, I married a second and a third, through a seventh wife, and all of them died. People call me Wife-Killer, all because of evil karma committed in a former life. I thought that my father formerly took refuge in the Buddha, so where else should I go? Thus I resolved to associate with the bhikshus.”

His friend said:

“Although you understand this, the duty of having a wife and children must still be fulfilled. Otherwise, your family line will be cut off. You should therefore seek some other ordinary woman.”

He replied:

“What can I do? Every family to which I propose says, ‘Could it be that we wish to kill our daughter?’”

“Then why not ask the widows?”

He replied:

“When I propose to them, they say, ‘Could it be that I wish to kill myself?’”

“Then why not propose to the beautiful maiden Diệu Quang?”

He replied:

“The physiognomist predicted that she would have relations with five hundred men. Could I allow my home to become the house of a courtesan whom all men visit?”

“You have faith. Who would enter your home without permission, apart from bhikshus coming to visit? You should propose.”

He replied:

“They surely will not consent to give her to me.”

“They too are anxious and may consent.”

The householder immediately went to that family. Seeing him, the girl’s father called out:

“Welcome! What are you seeking?”

He replied:

“I have a wish in my heart, but I have not dared speak of it.”

The father said:

“Speak. What harm can there be?”

He replied:

“I wish to take Diệu Quang as my wife.”

The father said:

“I consent.”

The householder held a grand wedding. Carriages and horses escorted the bride to his home, and he gave all the household keys to his new wife, saying:

“Good lady, my family has long taken refuge in the Three Jewels and regards them as its field of merit. We have no faith in anything else. You should personally make offerings whenever appropriate.”

She replied:

“Excellent! I shall do as you say.”

Thereafter, the householder invited bhikshus to his home for a meal every day. Diệu Quang personally made the offerings, and whenever she saw a bhikshu with a handsome figure and extraordinary appearance, she kept him in mind.

At one time, the householder had business requiring him to travel. He told his wife:

“Good lady, I have an important matter and must go to such-and-such a place. You must continue making offerings to the field of merit without interruption.”

She replied:

“I shall.”

The householder went to the bhikshus and said:

“I have business requiring me to travel elsewhere. I ask the noble ones to come to my home each day for a meal.”

They replied:

“May you travel safely. We shall come.”

After the householder departed, the bhikshus came to the house. Seeing that her husband was absent, Diệu Quang behaved flirtatiously toward them.

After seeing this, taking their meal, and returning to the monastery, the bhikshus discussed among themselves:

“Venerable ones, do you know that signs of wrongdoing have appeared? What should we do now?”

One said:

“Tomorrow morning we shall not go. What can she do?”

Another said:

“We are almsmen. Let us go on almsround.”

Everyone replied:

“Excellent!”

The next morning, not a single bhikshu went to the house. When the householder completed his business and returned home, he asked Diệu Quang:

“Did the noble fields of merit continue coming here for their meals?”

She replied:

“They came for only one day and did not come again.”

The householder thought:

“Perhaps this woman displayed seductive behavior before the noble ones, causing them to fear wrongdoing and cease coming.”

He went to the monastery and earnestly invited them again. They replied:

“We are almsmen and should follow our usual practice.”

He said:

“Noble ones, I understand the matter myself. There is no longer any fear that wrongdoing will arise as before.”

When the bhikshus accepted, the householder bowed and returned home.

On another day, the bhikshus came to the house for a meal. The householder put Diệu Quang in a room and locked the door, then personally served the food.

While the bhikshus were eating, Diệu Quang entertained discriminating fantasies in the room: “That noble one has slender legs like this; that noble one has a waist, chest, neck, face, eyes, and even the crown of his head like that.” By focusing upon such fantasies, she developed intense attachment. The fire of desire blazed up and burned her inside and out. Her entire body poured with sweat, her vital energy was exhausted, and she died.

After eating, rinsing their mouths, and washing their hands, the bhikshus recited verses of blessing and departed.

“Come out and eat with me.” The householder opened the door and called to Diệu Quang, but she remained silent and made no reply, for she had died.

Entering the room and seeing her lying on the floor, he thought she was asleep and tried to awaken her by shaking her with his hand. Only then did the householder realize that she was dead. Weeping bitterly, he told the household:

“I am the least fortunate of men. Such a jewel of a woman has suddenly departed. Inform her maternal relatives that their daughter has died.”

When they arrived, her relatives all wept, beat their breasts in anguish, threw themselves to the ground, and reviled the householder. This continued until evening. They wrapped the corpse in five-colored cloth, placed it upon a funeral cart, and conveyed it into the forest.

At that time, five hundred bandits who had come from plundering elsewhere were camped not far from the forest. On the road, a man saw their encampment and thought, “The beautiful Diệu Quang has died, and all her relatives, near and distant, are escorting her into the forest. The bandits must not be allowed to take advantage of this and commit evil. I should quickly warn them.”

He went to the forest and announced:

“Not far from here are five hundred bandits who are about to come to this place. You should leave quickly and not allow them to harm you.”

Hearing this warning, the relatives completed the funeral arrangements, appointed someone to guard the corpse, and, sorrowfully wiping away their tears, returned together to the city.

When the bandits reached the edge of the forest, the guard fled. Seeing the splendid funeral decorations, the bandits gathered around in astonishment. They lifted the clothing and saw that although the woman was dead, her countenance remained graceful as though she were alive. Seeing that her appearance differed in no way from that of a living person, they said among themselves, “Never before have we seen a woman so beautiful. Even if we searched far and wide, it would be difficult to find her equal.”

With defiled minds, they all committed an unlawful act with the corpse, contributed five hundred gold coins, placed them beside her, and departed.

By the following morning, it was heard everywhere that although Diệu Quang had died, her corpse had still had relations with five hundred men and received five hundred gold coins.

On hearing this, the bhikshus were perplexed and asked the Buddha:

“What karma did Diệu Quang perform in a former life such that her body was beautiful and radiant and the room shone brightly on the day of her birth, yet after death her corpse still had relations with five hundred men and received five hundred gold coins?”

The Blessed One said:

“Bhikshus, Diệu Quang ultimately had to undergo the karma she had created in a former life. When its result ripened, no one could take her place”—and so forth, through the recitation of the verse as before.

“You should know that during this Fortunate Eon, when the human lifespan was twenty thousand years, the Buddha Kāśyapa appeared in the world, fully endowed with the ten epithets, and dwelt in the Deer Park at Vārāṇasī. In that city was a king named Ngật Lật Chỉ, a great Dharma king under whom the land was peaceful, prosperous, joyful, and free of bandits”—as explained extensively elsewhere. “When the conditions for his teaching were exhausted, like a fire going out when its fuel is spent, the Blessed One entered the wondrous nirvana of the realm without remainder. The king and the people then made solemn offerings to the Buddha’s body. After cremating it, they collected the relics and built a stupa one yojana in length and breadth and half a yojana in height.

“A laywoman saw the majestic stupa and developed faith. She hung a bright mirror upon the wheel atop the stupa and made this vow:

“‘Wherever I may be born in future lives, may my body emit brilliant light like the radiance of the sun.’

“Bhikshus, the laywoman of that time is now Diệu Quang. Through the power of hanging up the mirror and making that vow, she now received the result of possessing a body like sunlight, and when she was born, light illuminated the entire room. Furthermore, you should know why, although she had died, her body still coupled with five hundred men and received five hundred gold coins. Listen to the causes and conditions of this matter.

“Long ago, in Vārāṇasī, there was a king named Brahmadatta, a great Dharma king”—as explained before. “In the city was a courtesan named Hiền Thiện, whose beautiful appearance delighted all who saw her. The king’s brother-in-law had previously had relations with her.

“Five hundred cowherds went to amuse themselves in a grove and said to one another:

“‘In this grove, we have enjoyed ourselves in every way except by coupling with a young woman. We should find one and bring her here.’

“Everyone approved. When they asked whom they should seek, they all agreed upon Hiền Thiện. They went to her and said:

“‘Young woman, come to the grove and enjoy yourself with us.’

“She replied:

“‘If you have one thousand gold coins, I shall go with you; otherwise, I shall not.’

“The cowherds said:

“‘Take five hundred now, and after we have enjoyed ourselves, we shall give you the remaining five hundred.’

“She replied:

“‘As you wish.’

“After accepting five hundred gold coins, the woman told them to go ahead, saying that she would follow after adorning herself with perfumes, flowers, and fine clothing.

“After they had gone, she thought, ‘If I have relations with those five hundred men, how could I survive? Yet I have already accepted their five hundred coins. What am I to do?’

“She devised a plan:

“‘The king’s brother-in-law formerly had an intimate relationship with me. If I seek his aid, he will surely save me.’

“Having decided this, she sent a maidservant to tell him:

“‘Through carelessness, I accepted five hundred gold coins to enjoy myself with five hundred men. If I have relations with all five hundred, I will hardly survive. If I do not go, I shall be required to repay many times the amount in gold. Formerly I greatly pleased you. Is there any means by which you can save me from this?’

“After the maidservant informed him, the king’s brother-in-law used the king’s authority to ensure that she neither had to go nor return the money.

“At that time, there was no Buddha in the world. Only pratyekabuddhas appeared, having compassion for the poor, dwelling beneath trees, and eating whatever they received. They alone were fields of merit in the world. One such pratyekabuddha wandered among the people and came to Vārāṇasī seeking a quiet place to stay. He saw the five hundred men gathered together. Seeing that the venerable one’s body and mind were peaceful and entirely unlike those of ordinary people, they thought, ‘This is a true field of merit, exceedingly difficult to encounter. We should make an offering to plant causes for the future.’ They pooled their resources, prepared fragrant and delicious food and drink, filled his bowl, and sincerely offered it to the noble one.

“Ordinarily, pratyekabuddhas do not teach the Dharma but merely manifest bodily signs that cause people to develop wholesome minds. He immediately rose into the air and displayed miraculous transformations. Fire and water streamed brilliantly from the upper and lower parts of his body. Upon seeing these spiritual powers, the ordinary men developed reverence and faith. They prostrated their entire bodies upon the ground like great trees falling and bowed to that superior person. They then made this far-reaching vow:

“‘We have personally made an offering to this true field of merit. Through these roots of goodness, may we couple with the courtesan Hiền Thiện—even if she is a corpse—and pay five hundred coins.’

“Bhikshus, you should know that Hiền Thiện of that time is now Diệu Quang. The five hundred men of that time are now these five hundred bandits. Because they made an offering to the noble one and through the power of their vow, throughout five hundred lives in the cycle of birth and death they continually paid five hundred coins and committed the unlawful act together. Even today, although the courtesan Diệu Quang had died, they still gave five hundred coins to her corpse and committed the evil act with it.

“Therefore, you should know that when one creates evil karma, no one else can undergo it in one’s place”—and so forth, through the verse as before. “You should abandon black and mixed karma and cultivate purely white karma. Thus should you train.”

The bhikshus heard the Buddha’s teaching, rejoiced, and respectfully practiced it.

The Blessed One then reflected that when bhikshus went to such households and accepted meals, dangers of this kind could arise. He therefore told them:

“Diệu Quang entertained fantasies about the bhikshus and consequently lost her life. Therefore, you must not go to households of this kind and accept their offerings, thereby giving rise to wrongdoing. Any bhikshu who goes to such a household and thereby causes wrongdoing commits an offense of transgression.”

The Buddha was at Rājagṛha. A certain bhikshu practiced meditative concentration and therefore frequently went into the wilderness to cultivate. A female māra developed an improper intention and invited the bhikshu to enjoy sensual pleasure with her. The bhikshu refused.

The female māra said:

“Noble one, if you will not enjoy yourself with me, I shall cause you harm.”

He replied:

“Elder sister, I am a keeper of the precepts. How could you harm me?”

Standing before the bhikshu, the female māra uttered offensive words. From then on, she continually followed him, watching for a fault.

One day, the bhikshu sat in a secluded place with his robe wrapped around his body and unexpectedly fell asleep. Seeing this, the female māra thought, “Now is the time for me to take revenge.” She carried the bhikshu into the upper chamber where King Thắng Quang was staying. While the king slept, the female māra threw the bhikshu upon him.

Awakened by the impact, the king asked:

“Who is there?”

He replied:

“I am an ascetic.”

The king asked:

“What kind of ascetic?”

He replied:

“A son of the Śākyas.”

The king asked:

“Why has the noble one come here?”

The bhikshu related the entire matter to the king.

The king asked:

“Why did you remain in such a dangerous place? If I were not a disciple of the Buddha, you would already have lost your life, and the noble teaching would have been brought to ruin.”

Hearing this, the bhikshu remained silent. He returned and told the other bhikshus, who reported the matter to the Buddha.

Reflecting that this fault had arisen because bhikshus stayed in frightening and dangerous places, the Buddha told them:

“Great King Anh Thắng’s criticism was entirely correct. Therefore, bhikshus must not stay in dangerous places of this kind. Whoever does so commits an offense of transgression.”

– The circumstances were as before. A bhikshu developed a boil. A physician came and, seeing it, lanced it. However, urgent business required him to leave before he could apply medicine, causing the bhikshu great pain. Seeing him suffering, the bhikshus said among themselves:

“Venerable ones, whoever knows how to treat him should relieve his suffering.”

A young bhikshu treated him.

Meanwhile, the king of physicians thought, “I lanced the boil a short while ago but did not apply medicine. I should return and do so.”

He came and said, “I lanced the boil but have not yet applied medicine.”

They replied:

“It has already been done.”

He asked:

“Who did it?”

They replied:

“A young bhikshu.”

After examining it and recognizing that good medicine had been used, the king of physicians said:

“On another occasion, if I am absent, you should treat it in this way.”

The young bhikshu replied:

“I merely acted provisionally as circumstances required, but the Blessed One has not yet permitted this.”

The king of physicians said:

“The greatly compassionate Blessed One will surely permit it.”

The bhikshu reported the matter to the Buddha. The Buddha said:

“Bhikshus, if someone is skilled in medicine, allow him to administer treatment, but do so in a concealed place where laypeople cannot see. If it is done in an exposed place, an offense of transgression is committed.”

– The circumstances arose in the city of Thất La Phiệt. Faithful brahmins and laypeople came to the monastery and asked the bhikshus:

“I have such-and-such an illness. What medicine should I take, and what should I eat?”

The bhikshus who knew nothing of medicine could not answer, while those skilled in medicine feared committing an offense and would not explain. The laypeople therefore returned home sorrowfully. The bhikshus reported the matter to the Buddha. The Buddha said:

“Any bhikshu skilled in medicine should instruct them. There is no offense.”

– The circumstances were as before. After the Blessed One displayed miraculous transformations and defeated the non-Buddhist ascetics, bringing joy to gods and humans, nonhuman beings from outside came to the city of Thất La Phiệt from their respective dwellings in cities, towns, villages, and the intermediate regions of the world. When the Great Teacher, the Blessed One, and the great assembly came from elsewhere, they regularly received offerings of food and clothing from gods, dragons, yakshas, King Thắng Quang, sovereign of Kiều Tát La, Queen Thắng Man, Lady Hành Vũ, the householder Tiên Thọ, the householder Cố Cựu, and Viśākhā, Mother of Mṛgāra. Thus, those who came from elsewhere were also fully provided for.

At that time, the nonhuman beings became attached and remained there instead of returning to their former dwellings. Those with lustful intentions transformed themselves into the likenesses of husbands and had sexual relations with the men’s wives. The sons and daughters born from these unions had hands, feet, heads, and faces resembling those of nonhuman beings and differed from ordinary people.

Some had dark-red eyes; some had large heads and short bodies; some had blue-green hair; and some had hair mixed with yellow. Seeing this, their mothers were terrified and abandoned the infants in dangerous, secluded places. When the nonhuman fathers saw their children, they infused them with vitality.

Some resembled humans at birth but manifested the features of nonhuman beings as they grew, so their mothers likewise abandoned them. When their ghostly fathers encountered them, they raised them until they reached adulthood.

Seeing this, the Group of Six said among themselves:

“Nanda and Upananda, those Black-Bowl fellows are stealing our disciples. Once they have raised them to adulthood, they take them away. We should gather disciples of this kind ourselves so that the Black-Bowl fellows cannot entice them.”

Early one morning, Upananda put on his robes, took his bowl, and entered the city for alms. On the road he encountered a man with yellow hair and thought, “A person with this appearance is not one whom the Black-Bowl fellows have raised. If he wishes to go forth, I shall ordain him.”

Going up to the man, Upananda asked:

“Good man, to whose family do you belong?”

He replied:

“I have no home or family. I am alone.”

Upananda asked:

“If that is so, why do you not go forth?”

He replied:

“I am a yellow-haired man. Who would allow me to go forth and become a teacher of kings?”

Upananda said:

“Good man, the teaching of the Great Teacher places compassion foremost. If you agree, I shall be your preceptor and enable you to go forth.”

Overjoyed, the man followed him into the monastery, went forth, and received full ordination.

After teaching him the rules of conduct for several days, Upananda said:

“Good man, have you not heard that deer do not raise other deer? The broad land of Thất La Phiệt is your father’s field of activity. You should sustain yourself by begging for alms.”

The next day, the new bhikshu put on his robes, took his bowl, and entered the city for alms. When a woman came out to offer him food and saw him, she beat her breast and cried:

“You are a yellow-haired man! Who allowed you to go forth?”

He replied:

“Upananda is my preceptor.”

They said:

“Apart from his wicked conduct, who else would do something so harmful within the Blessed One’s teaching?”

Unbelievers in the streets and neighborhoods criticized them together:

“The Śākya ascetics act improperly, even ordaining yellow-haired people.”

The bhikshus reported the matter to the Buddha. Reflecting that faults arose when bhikshus ordained people of this kind, and that bhikshus therefore should not ordain yellow-haired people, the Buddha told them:

“The criticism of the laypeople is entirely correct. Therefore, bhikshus must not violate accepted social conventions by permitting such people to go forth. Whoever does so commits an offense of transgression.”

After the Buddha said that people of this kind must not be allowed to go forth, the bhikshus did not know what constituted violating accepted social conventions. The Buddha explained that there were two objectionable circumstances that violated such conventions: the first concerned lineage, and the second concerned physical appearance.

An objectionable lineage means belonging to a low, impoverished, and common family; working as a hired laborer without sufficient food and drink; or being a caṇḍāla, a pukkasa, a woodworker, bamboo worker, clothes robber, brewer, hunter, and so forth. These are called objectionable lineages.

An objectionable physical appearance includes yellow, blue, red, or white hair; hair like an elephant’s bristles; having no hair; an excessively coarse, large, or elongated head; the head of a donkey, pig, or dog; ears like those of an animal; having no ears; eyes afflicted by disorders, being yellow, red, excessively large, or excessively small; blindness or deafness; diseased teeth or no teeth; being castrated; possessing both sexual organs; having the lower body afflicted by wind; having no sexual organ; a body that is excessively coarse or excessively small; emaciation; a frightening complexion; incomplete hands or feet; and diseases such as scabies and sores. The Great Sage prohibited people in such circumstances from receiving full ordination.

As a verse says:

At that time, Upananda sold the yellow hair to children to use as toys. The Buddha said:

“Whoever sells hair commits a duṣkṛta offense.”

Fourth summary verse in the sixth section of separate topics:

Đà Sách and the others, three together,
Forgetting origins, written scriptures, and asking questions,
Great spiritual powers and potent medicine,
A knife, death, and descent from a heavenly palace.

– The circumstances arose in the city of Thất La Phiệt. Venerable Upāli had two novices. One was named Đà Sách Ca, and the other was named Ba-Lạc Ca. The two were exceedingly close and harmonious.

One said to the other:

“You should receive full ordination. I shall attend upon the preceptor and upon you so that neither of you lacks anything.”

On hearing this, the other said the same thing. Because each helped, cared for, and supported the other, neither was willing to receive full ordination first.

Venerable Upāli asked the Blessed One:

“Great Virtuous One, may one preceptor, one instructing teacher, and one karma-ācārya confer full ordination upon two disciples simultaneously?”

The Buddha said:

“They may.”

Upāli asked:

“Which of these two is senior?”

The Buddha replied:

“They are equal.”

Upāli asked:

“May three people receive it simultaneously?”

The Buddha replied:

“They may.”

Upāli asked:

“Which of these three is senior?”

The Buddha replied:

“They are equal.”

Upāli asked:

“May four people receive it simultaneously?”

The Buddha said:

“They may not.”

Upāli asked:

“Why?”

The Buddha replied:

“It is not permissible for one Sangha to perform a formal act for another Sangha; that would be improper. Whoever deliberately does so commits an offense of transgression.”

Upāli asked:

“Blessed One, if these people receive the precepts simultaneously, none will be senior or junior. How should they pay homage, perform administrative duties, and receive material offerings?”

The Buddha told Upāli:

“These people should not bow to one another. When performing administrative duties or receiving material offerings, they should follow another person’s assignment and accept whatever is given to them.”

– The circumstances were as before. Upāli asked the Blessed One:

“Great Virtuous One, in future times people will be forgetful and their power of mindfulness will decline. They will not know which scripture the Blessed One taught, which training rule he established, or in which region, city, town, or village it occurred. What should be done in such cases?”

The Buddha said:

“The Great Caityas in the six great cities were the places where the Tathagata dwelt the longest. There is no offense in naming those places.”

Upāli asked:

“If the names of the kings have been forgotten, what should be said?”

The Buddha said:

“For a king, say Thắng Quang; for a householder, say Anāthapiṇḍada; for an upāsikā, say Viśākhā, and so forth. This should be understood accordingly. In other places, name the king or householder who lived there.”

Upāli asked:

“When recounting causes and events of former times, what place should be named?”

The Buddha replied:

“As appropriate, say Vārāṇasī; name the king Brahmadatta, the householder Tương Tục, and the upāsikā Trưởng Tịnh.”

Upāli asked:

“If scriptures cannot be committed to memory, how should they be received and retained?”

The Buddha said:

“They should be written upon leaves or paper so that they may be read, recited, received, and retained.”

MŪLASARVĀSTIVĀDA

VINAYA MISCELLANY

End of Fascicle Twenty-Five.