6.1.6. Dilemma the Fifty-Seventh. Why Have Arahats No Power Over Their Bodies?  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, your (members of the Order) say:

“There is one kind of pain only which an Arahat suffers, bodily pain, that is, and not mental.”

6.1.6. Dilemma the Fifty-Seventh. Why Have Arahats No Power Over Their Bodies?  

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‘How is this, Nāgasena? the Arahat keeps his mind going by means of the body. Has the Arahat no lordship, no mastery, no power over the body?’

^^^

‘No, he has not, O king.’

‘That, Sir, is not right that over the body, by which he keeps his mind going, he should have neither lordship, nor mastery, nor power. Even a bird, Sir, is lord and master and ruler over the nest in which he dwells.’

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‘There are these ten qualities, O king, inherent in the body, which run after it, as it were, and accompany it from existence to existence. And what are the ten? Cold and heat, hunger and thirst, The necessity of voiding excreta, fatigue and sleepiness, old age, disease, and death. And in respect thereof, the Arahat is without lordship, without mastery, without power.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, what is the reason why the commands of the Arahat have no power over his body, neither has he any mastery over it? Tell me that.

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‘Just, O king, as whatever beings are dependent on the land, they all walk, and dwell, and carry on their business in dependence upon it. But do their commands have force, does their mastery extend over it?’

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‘Certainly not, Sir!’

‘Just so, O king, the Arahat keeps his mind going through the body. And yet his commands have no authority over it, nor power.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, why is it that the ordinary man suffers both bodily and mental pain?’

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‘By reason, O king, of the untrained state of his mind. just, O king, as an ox when trembling with starvation might be tied up with a weak and fragile and tiny rope of grass or creeper. But if the ox were excited then would he escape, dragging the fastening with him. Just so, O king, when pain comes upon him whose mind is untrained, then is his mind excited, and the mind so excited bends his body this way and that and makes it grovel on the ground, and he, being thus untrained in mind, trembles and cries, and gives forth terrible groans. This is why the ordinary man, O king, suffers pain as well in body as in mind.’

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‘Then why, Sir, does the Arahat only suffer one kind of pain—bodily, that is, and not mental?’

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‘The mind of the Arahat, O king, is trained, well practised, tamed, brought into subjection, and obedient, and it hearkens to his word. When affected with feelings of pain, he grasps firmly the idea of the impermanence of all things, so ties his mind as it were to the post of contemplation, and his mind, bound to the post of contemplation, remains unmoved, unshaken, becomes stedfast, wanders not—though his body the while may bend this way and that and roll in agony by the disturbing influence of the pain. This is why it is only one kind of pain that the Arahat suffers—bodily pain, that is, and not mental.’

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44., Venerable Nāgasena, that verily is a most marvellous thing that when the body is trembling the mind should not be shaken. Give me a reason for that.’

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‘Suppose, O king, there were a noble tree, mighty in trunk and branches and leaves. And when agitated by the force of the wind its branches should wave. Would the trunk also move

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‘Certainly not, Sir!’

‘Well, O king, the mind of the Arahat is as the trunk of that noble tree.’

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‘ Most wonderful, Nāgasena, and most strange! Never before have I seen a lamp of the law that burned thus brightly through all time.’

Here ends the dilemma as to the Arahat’s power over his body.

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6.1.7. Dilemma the Fifty-Eighth. The Layman’s Sin  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, suppose a layman had been guilty of a Pārājika offence, and some time after should enter the Order. And neither he himself should be aware that when still a layman he had so been guilty, nor should any one else inform him, saying: “When a layman you were guilty of such an offence.” Now if he were to devote himself to the attainment of Arahatship, would he be able so to comprehend the Truth as to succeed in entering upon the Excellent Way?’

6.1.7. Dilemma the Fifty-Eighth. The Layman’s Sin  

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‘No, O king, he would not.’

‘But why not, Sir?’

‘That, in him, which might have been the cause of his grasping the Truth has been, in him, destroyed. No comprehension can therefore take place.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, your people say:

“To him who is aware (of an offence) there comes remorse. When remorse has arisen there is an obstruction in the heart. To him whose heart is obstructed there is no comprehension of the Truth.”

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‘Why should there then be no such comprehension to one not aware of his offence, feeling no remorse, remaining with a quiet heart. This dilemma touches on two irreconcilable statements. Think well before you solve it.’

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‘Would selected seed, O king, successfully sown in a well-ploughed, well-watered, fertile soil, come to maturity?’

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‘Certainly, Sir!’

‘But would the same seed grow on the surface of a thick slab of rock?’

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‘Of course not.’

‘Why then should the same seed grow in the mud, and not on the rock?’

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‘Because on the rock the cause for its growth does not exist. Seeds cannot grow without a cause.’

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‘Just so, O king, the cause by reason of which his comprehension of the Truth (his conversion) might have been brought about, has been rooted out in him. Conversion cannot take place without a cause.’

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‘[Give me, Sir, another simile.’]

‘Well, O king, will sticks and clods and cudgels and clubs find a resting-place in the air, in the same way as they do on the ground?’

^^^

‘No, Sir.’

‘But what is the reason why they come to rest on the earth, when they will not stand in the air?’

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‘There is no cause in the air for their stability, and without a cause they will not stand.’

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‘Just so, O king, by that fault of his the cause for his conversion has been removed. And without a cause there can be no conversion. Now will fire, O king, burn in water in the same way as it will on land?’

^^^^

‘No, Sir.’

‘But why not?’

‘Because in water the conditions precedent for burning do not exist. And there can be no burning without them.’

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‘Just so, O king, are the conditions precedent to conversion destroyed in him by that offence of his. And when the conditions which would bring it about are destroyed there can be no conversion.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, think over this matter once more. I am not yet convinced about it. Persuade me by some reason how such obstruction can occur in the case of one not aware of his offence, and feeling therefore no remorse.’

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‘Would the Halāhala poison, O king, if eaten by a man who did not know he had eaten it, take away his life?’

^^^^

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Just so, O king, is there an obstruction to his comprehension of the Truth, who, without being aware of it, has committed a sin. And would fire, O king, burn a man who walked into it unawares?’

^^^^

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Well, just so in the case you put. Or would a venomous snake, if it bit a man without his knowing it, kill him?’

^^^^

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Well, just so in the case you put. And is it not true that Samaṇa Kolañña, the king of Kaliṅga—when surrounded by the seven treasures of a sovereign overlord he went mounted on his state elephant to pay a visit to his relatives—was not able to pass the Tree of Wisdom, though he was not aware that it was there ? Well, of the same kind is the reason why one who has committed an offence, even though he know it not, is nevertheless incapable of rising to the knowledge of the Truth.’

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‘Verily, Nāgasena, this must be the word of the Conqueror. To find any fault with it were vain. And this (explanation of yours) must be the meaning of it. I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the dilemma of the layman’s sin.

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6.1.8. Dilemma the Fifty-Ninth. The Guilty Recluse  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, what is the distinction, what the difference, between a layman who has done wrong, and a Samaṇa (member of the Order) who has done wrong? Will they both be reborn in like condition? Will the like retribution happen to both? Or is there any difference?’

6.1.8. Dilemma the Fifty-Ninth. The Guilty Recluse  

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‘There are, O king, ten qualities which abound in the guilty Samaṇa, distinguishing him from the guilty layman. And besides that, in ten ways does the Samaṇa purify the gifts that may be given him.

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‘And what are the ten qualities which abound in the guilty Samaṇa, distinguishing him from the guilty layman? the guilty Samaṇa, O king, is full of reverence for the Buddha, for the Law, for the Order, and for his fellow-disciples; he exerts himself in putting questions about, and in recitation of (the sacred texts); he is devoted to learning, though he has done wrong. Then, O king, the guilty one entering the assembly, enters it decently clad, he guards himself alike in body and mind through fear of rebuke, his mind is set upon exerting himself (towards the attainment of Arahatship), he is of the companionship of the brethren. And even, O king, if he does wrong he lives discreetly. just, O king, as a married woman sins only in secret and in privacy, so does the guilty Samaṇa walk discreetly in his wrongdoing. These are the ten qualities, O king, found in the guilty Samaṇa, distinguishing him from the guilty layman.

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‘And what are the ten ways in which, besides, he purifies a gift given to him? He purifies it in that he wears an invulnerable coat of mail ; in that he is shorn in the fashion of the characteristic mark of renunciation used by the seers of old ; in that he is one who is included in the multitude of the brethren; in that he has taken his refuge in the Buddha, the Law, and the Order; in that he dwells in a lonely spot suitable for the exertion (after Arahatship); in that he seeks after the treasure of the teaching of the Conquerors; in that he preaches the most excellent law (Dhamma); in that his final destiny is to be reborn in the island of truth ; in that he is possessed of an honest belief that the Buddha is the chief of all beings; in that he has taken upon himself the keeping of the Uposatha day. These, O king, are the ten ways in which, besides, he purifies a gift given to him.

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‘Even, O king, when thoroughly fallen, a guilty Samaṇa yet sanctifies the gifts of the supporters of the faith—just as water, however thick, will wash away slush and mud and dirt and stains—just as hot, and even boiling water will put a mighty blazing fire out—just as food, however nasty, will allay the faintness of hunger. For thus, O king, hath it been said by the god over all gods in the most excellent Majjhima Nikāya in the chapter “On gifts:”

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“Whene’er a good man, with believing heart,
Presents what he hath earned in righteousness
To th’ unrighteous—in full confidence
On the great fruit to follow the good act—
Such gift is, by the giver, sanctified.”’

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‘Most wonderful, Nāgasena, and most strange! We asked you a mere ordinary question, and you, expounding it with reasons and with similes, have filled, as it were, the hearer with the sweet taste of the nectar (of Nirvāṇa). just as a cook, or a cook’s apprentice, taking a piece of ordinary nutmeg, will, treating it with various ingredients, prepare a dish for a king—so, Nāgasena, when we asked you an ordinary question, have you, expounding it with reasons and similes, filled the hearer with the sweet taste of the nectar of Nirvāṇa.’ .

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Here ends the dilemma as to the guilty recluse.

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6.1.9. Dilemma the Sixtieth. The Soul In Water  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, this water when boiling over the fire gives forth many a sound, hissing and simmering. Is then, Nāgasena, the water alive? Is it shouting at play? or is it crying out at the torment inflicted on it?’

6.1.9. Dilemma the Sixtieth. The Soul In Water  

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‘It is not alive, O king, there is no soul or being in water. It is by reason of the greatness of the shock of the heat of the fire that it gives forth sounds, hissing and simmering.’

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‘Now, venerable Nāgasena, there are false teachers who on the ground that the water is alive reject the use of cold water, and warming the water feed themselves on tepid foods of various kinds.

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‘These men find fault with you and revile you, saying: “The Sakyaputtiya Samaṇas do injury to the souls of one function.” Dispel, remove, get rid of this their censure and blame.’

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‘The water is not alive, O king. Neither is there therein either soul or being. And it is the great shock of the heat of the fire that makes it sound, hissing and simmering. It is like the water in holes in the ground, in ponds and pools and lakes, in reservoirs, in crevices and chasms, in wells, in low-lying places, and in lotus-tanks, which before the mighty onset of the hot winds is so deeply affected that it vanishes away. But does the water in that case, O king, give forth many a sound, hissing and simmering?’

^^^^

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘But, if it were alive, the water would then also make some sound. Know therefore, O king, that there is no soul, neither being, in water; and that it is the greatness of the shock of the heat of the water that makes it give forth sounds.

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‘And hear another reason, O king, for the same thing. If water, O king, with grains of rice in it, is put in a vessel and covered up, but not placed over the fireplace, would it then give forth sound?’

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‘No, Sir. It would remain quiet and unmoved.’

‘But if you were to put the same water, just as it is in the vessel, over a fireplace, and then light up the fire, would the water remain quiet and motionless?’

^^^^

‘Certainly not, Sir. It would move and be agitated, become perturbed and all in commotion, waves would arise in it, it would rush up and down and in every direction , it would roll up and boil over, and a garland of foam would be formed above it.’

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‘But why so, O king, when water in its ordinary state remains quiet and motionless?’

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‘It is because of the powerful impulse of the heat of the fire that the water, usually so still, gives forth many a sound, bubbling and hissing.’

^^^^

‘Then thereby know, O king, that there is no soul in water, neither being; and that it is the strong heat of the fire that causes it to make sounds.

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‘And hear another reason, O king, for the same thing. Is there not water to be found in every house put into water-pots with their mouths closed up?’

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‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Well, does that water move, is it agitated, perturbed, in commotion, does it form into waves, does it rush up and down and in every direction, does it roll up and roll over, is it covered with foam?’

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‘No! That water is in its ordinary state. It remains still and quiet.’

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‘But have you ever heard that all this is true of the water in the great ocean? and that rearing up it breaks against the strand with a mighty roar?’

^^^^

‘Yes, I have both heard of it, and have seen it myself—how the water in the great ocean lifts itself up a hundred, two hundred, cubits high, towards the sky.’

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‘But why, whereas water in its ordinary state remains motionless and still, does the water in the ocean both move and roar?’

^^^^

‘That is by reason of the mighty force of the onset of the wind, whereas the water in the water-jars neither moves nor makes any noise, because nothing shakes it.’

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‘Well, the sounds given forth by boiling water are the result, in a similar way, of the great heat of the fire.’

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'Do not people cover over the dried-up mouth of a drum with dried cow-leather?’

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‘Yes, they do.’

‘Well, is there any soul or being, O king, in a drum?’

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘Then how is it that a drum makes sounds?’

‘By the action or effort of a woman or a man.’

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‘Well, just as that is why the drum sounds, so is it by the effect of the heat of the fire that the water sounds. And for this reason also you might know, O king, that there is no soul, neither being, in water; and that it is the heat of the fire which causes it to make sounds.

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‘And I, too, O king, have something yet further to ask of you—thus shall this puzzle be thoroughly threshed out. How is it? Is it true of every kind of vessel that water heated in it makes noises, or only of some kinds of vessels?’

^^^^

‘Not of all, Sir. Only of some.’

‘But then you have yourself, O king, abandoned the position you took up. You have come over to my side-that there is no soul, neither being, in water. For only if it made noises in whatever vessel it were heated could it be right to say that it had a soul. There cannot be two kinds of water—that which speaks, as it were, which is alive, and that which does not speak, and does not live. If all water were alive, then that which the great elephants, when they are in rut, suck up in their trunks, and pour out over their towering frames, or putting into their mouths take right into their stomachs—that water, too, when crushed flat between their teeth, would make a sound. And great ships, a hundred cubits long, heavily laden, full of hundreds of packages of goods, pass over the sea—the water crushed by them, too, would make sounds. And mighty fish, leviathans with bodies hundreds of leagues long, since they dwell in the great ocean, immersed in the depths of it, must, so living in it, be constantly taking into their mouths and spouting out the ocean—and that water, too, crushed between their gills or in their stomach, would make sounds. But as, even when tormented with the grinding and crushing of all such mighty things, the water gives no sound, therefore, O king, you may take it that there is no soul, neither being, in water.’

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‘Very good, Nāgasena! With fitting discrimination has the puzzle put to you been solved. just, Nāgasena, as a gem of inestimable value which had come into the hands of an able master goldsmith, clever and well trained, would meet with due appreciation, estimation, and praise-just as a rare pearl at the hands of a dealer in pearls, a fine piece of woven stuff at the hands of a cloth merchant, or red sandal wood at the hands of a perfumer—just so in that way has this puzzle put to you been solved with the discrimination it deserved.’

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Here ends the dilemma as to the water-life.

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6.2.1. Dilemma the Sixty-First. The Obstacles  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, the Blessed One said:

“Live, O brethren, devoted to and taking delight in that which has no Papañcas (none of those states of mind which delay or obstruct a man in his spiritual growth).”

6.2.1. Dilemma the Sixty-First. The Obstacles  

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‘What is that which has no Papañcas?’

‘The fruit of Conversion has no Papañcas, O king, the fruit of that stage of the Path in which those live who will be only once, or not all reborn, the fruit of Arahatship has no Papañcas.’^

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‘But if that be so, Nāgasena, Then why do the brethren concern themselves with recitation of, with asking questions about the discourses, and the pieces in mixed prose and verse, and the expositions, and the poems, and the outbursts of emotion, and the passages beginning “Thus he said,” and the birth-stories, and the tales of wonder, and the extended treatises ? Why do they trouble themselves about new buildings about gifts and offerings to the order?’

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‘They who do all these things, O king, are working towards attainment of freedom from the Papañcas, (that is of Arahatship). For whereas, O king, all those of the brethren who are pure by nature, those upon whose hearts an impression has been left by good deeds done in a former birth, can (get rid of the Papañcas, can) become Arahats, in a moment—those on the other hand whose minds are much darkened by evil can only become Arahats by such means as these.

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‘Just, O king, as while one man who has sown a field and got the seed to grow can, by the exertion of his own power, and without any rampart or fence, reap the crop—whereas another man when he has got the seed to grow must go into the woods, and cut down sticks and branches and make a fence of them, and thus only reap the crop—in the same way those who are pure by nature, upon whose hearts an impression has been left by good deeds done in a former birth, can, in a moment, become Arahats, like the man who gathers the crop without a fence. But those, on the other hand, whose minds are darkened by the evil they have done can only become Arahats by such means as these—like the man who can only reap his crop if he builds the fence.

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‘Or just, O king, as there might be a bunch of fruits on the summit of a lofty mango tree. Then whoever possesses the power of Iddhi could take those fruits, but whoever had not, he would have first to cut sticks and creepers and construct a ladder, and by its means climb up the tree and so get at the fruit. In the same way those who are by nature pure, and upon whose hearts an impression has been left by good deeds done in a former birth, may attain, in a moment, to Arahatship, like the man getting the fruit by the power of Iddhi. But those, on the other hand, whose minds are darkened by the evil they have done can only become Arahats by such means as these, like the man who only gets the fruit by means of the ladder he has made.

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‘Or just, O king, as while one man who is clever in business will go alone to his lord and conclude any business he has to do, another man, rich though he may be, must by his riches bring others to his service, and by their help get the business done—and it is for the business’ sake that he has to seek after them. In the same way those who are by nature pure, upon whose hearts an impression has been left by good deeds done in a former birth, may reach, in a moment, to the attainment of the Six Transcendent Qualities, like the man who does the business alone by himself Whereas those brethren whose minds are darkened by the evil they have done can only by such means as these realise the gains of renunciation, like the man who through others’ help brings his business to the desired end.

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‘For recitation is of great good, O king, and asking questions, and superintending building work, and seeing to gifts and offerings is of great good—each of them to one or other of the spiritual objects which the brethren seek to obtain. just, O king, as there might be some one of the ministers or soldiers or messengers or sentries or body-guards or attendants who was especially serviceable and useful to the king, but when he had any business given him to do they would all help him—just so are all these things of assistance when those objects have to be attained. When all men, O king, shall have become by nature pure, then will there be nothing left for a teacher to accomplish. But so long as there is still need of discipleship, so long will even such a man, O king, as the Elder Sāriputta himself (though he had attained to the summit of wisdom by reason of his having been, through countless ages, deeply rooted in merit), yet find it impossible, without discipleship, to attain to Arahatship. Therefore is it, O king, that hearing (the Scriptures) is of use, and recitation of them, and asking questions about them. And therefore is it that those also who are addicted to These things, becoming free from the obstacles thereto, attain to Arahatship.’

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‘Right well have you made me understand this puzzle, Nāgasena. That is so, and I accept it as you say.

Here ends the dilemma as to the obstacles.

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‘6.2.2. Dilemma the Sixty-Second. The Lay Arahat”  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, your people say:

“Whosoever has attained, as a layman, to Arahatship, one of two conditions are possible to him, and no other—either that very day he enters the Order, or he dies away, for beyond that day he cannot last.”

6.2.2. Dilemma the Sixty-Second. The Lay Arahat  

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‘Now if, Nāgasena, he could not, on that day, procure a teacher or preceptor, or a bowl and set of robes, would he then, being an Arahat, admit himself, or would he live over the day, or would some other Arahat suddenly appear by the power of Iddhi and admit him, or would he die away?’

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‘He could not, O king, because he is an Arahat, admit himself. For any one admitting himself to The Order is guilty of theft. And he could not last beyond that day. Whether another Arahat should happen, or not, to arrive, on that very day would he die away.’

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‘Then, Nāgasena, by whatever means attained, the holy condition of Arahatship is thereby also lost, for destruction of life is involved in it.’

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‘It is the condition of laymanship which is at fault, O king. In that faulty condition, and by reason of the weakness of the condition itself, the layman who, as such, has attained to Arahatship must either, that very day, enter the Order or die away. That is not the fault of Arahatship, O king. It is laymanship that is at fault, through not being strong enough.

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‘Just, O king, as food, that guards the growth and protects the life of all beings, will, through indigestion, take away the life of one whose stomach is unequal to it, whose internal fire is low and weak—just so if a layman attains Arahatship when in that condition unequal to it, then by reason of the weakness of the condition he must, that very day, either enter the Order or die away.

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‘Or just, O king, as a tiny blade of grass when a heavy rock is placed upon it will, through its weakness, break off and give way—just so when a layman attains Arahatship, then, unable to support Arahatship in that condition, he must, that very day, either enter the Order or die away.

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‘Or just, O king, as a poor weak fellow of low birth and little ability, if he came into possession of a great and mighty kingdom, would be unable to support the dignity of it —just so if a layman attains to Arahatship, then is he unable, in that condition, to support it. And that is the reason why he must, on that very day, either enter the Order or die away.’

^^^^

‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the dilemma as to the lay Arahat.

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‘6.2.3. Dilemma the Sixty-Third. The Faults Of the Arahat  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, can an Arahat be thoughtless ?’

‘The Arahats, O king, have put thoughtlessness far from them. They are never inadvertent.’

‘6.2.3. Dilemma the Sixty-Third. The Faults Of the Arahat”  

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‘But can an Arahat be guilty of an offence?’

‘Yes, O king.’

‘In what respect?’

‘In the construction of his cell, or in his intercourse (with the other sex), or in imagining the wrong time (for the midday meal) to be the right time, or when he has been invited (to a meal) forgetting the invitation, or in taking to be “left over “ food which has not been left over.’

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‘But, venerable Nāgasena, your people say:

“Those who commit offences do so from one of two reasons, either out of carelessness or out of ignorance.”

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‘Now, is the Arahat careless that he commits offences?’

‘No, O king.’

‘Then if the Arahat commits offences, and yet is not careless, he must be capable of thoughtlessness.’

‘He is not capable of thoughtlessness, and yet the Arahat may be guilty of offences.’

‘Convince me then by a reason. What is the reason of this?’

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‘There are two kinds of sins, O king—those which are a breach of the ordinary moral law, and those which are a breach of the Rules (of the Order). And what is a breach of the ordinary moral law? the ten modes of evil action (killing, theft, unchastity, lying, slander, harsh language, frivolous talk, covetousness, malice, and false doctrine). These things are against the moral law. And what is a breach of the Rules? Whatever is held in the world as unfitting and improper for Samanas, but is not wrong for laymen—things concerning which the Blessed One laid down rules for his disciples, not to be transgressed by them their lives long. Eating after sunturn, O king, is not wrong to those in the world, but is wrong to those in the religion (the Order) of the Conquerors. Doing injury to trees and shrubs is no offence in the eyes of the world, but it is wrong in the religion. The habit of sporting in the water is no offence to a layman, but it is wrong in the religion. And many other things of a similar kind, O king, are right in the world, but wrong in the religion of the Conquerors. This is what I mean by a breach of the Rules. Now the Arahat (he in whom the Great Evils are destroyed) is incapable of sinning against whatever is moral law, but he may unawares be guilty of an offence against the rules of the Order. It is not within the province of every Arahat to know everything, nor indeed in his power. He may be ignorant of the personal or family name of some woman or some man. He may be ignorant of some road over the earth. But every Arahat would know about emancipation, and the Arahat gifted with the six modes of transcendental knowledge would know what lies within their scope, and an omniscient Tathāgata, O king, would know all things.’

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‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the dilemma as to the faults of the Arahat.

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‘6.2.4. Dilemma the Sixty-Fourth. What Is, But Not In the World  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, there are to be seen in the world Buddhas, and Pacceka-Buddhas, and disciples of the Tathāgatas, and sovran overlords, and kings over one country, and gods and men;—we find rich and poor, happy and miserable;—we find men who have become women, and women who have become men—there are good deeds and evil, and beings experiencing the result of their virtue or their vice;—we find creatures born from eggs, and in the water, and in sediment, or springing into life by the mere apparitional birth; creatures without feet, bipeds and quadrupeds, and creatures with many feet;—we find Yakkhas and Rakkhasas, and Kumbhaṇḍas, and Asuras, and Dānavas, and Gandhabbas, and Petas and Pisācas, and Kinnaras, and Mahoragas, and Nāgas and Supaṇṇas, and magicians and sorcerers;—there are elephants, and horses, and cattle, and buffaloes, and camels, and asses, and goats, and sheep, and deer, and swine, and lions, and tigers, and leopards, and bears, and wolves, and hyenas, and dogs, and jackals, and many kinds of birds;—there is gold and silver, and the pearl, and The diamond, and the chauk, and rock, and coral, and the ruby, and the Masāra stone, and the cat’s-eye, and crystal, and quartz, and iron ore, and copper, and brass, and bronze;—there is flax, and silk, and cotton, and hemp, and wool;—there is rice, and paddy, and barley, and millet, and kudrūsa grain, and beans, and wheat, and oilseed, and vetches;—there are perfumes prepared from roots, and sap, and pith, and bark, and leaves, and flowers, and fruit, and of all other sorts;—we find grass, and creepers, and shrubs, and trees, and medicinal herbs, and forests, and rivers, and mountains, and seas, and fish, and tortoises—all is in the world. Tell me, Sir, what there is, then, which is not in the world.’

‘6.2.4. Dilemma the Sixty-Fourth. What Is, But Not In the World  

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‘There are three things, O king, which you cannot find in the world. And what are the three? That which, whether conscious or unconscious, is not subject to decay and death—that you will not find. That quality of anything, (organic or inorganic), which is not impermanent—that you will not find. And in the highest sense there is no such thing as being possessed of being.’

^^^^

‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the puzzle as to what is not in the world.

^^^^

‘6.2.5. Dilemma the Sixty-Fifth. Things Without A Cause  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, there are found beings in the world who have come into existence through Karma, and others who are the result of a cause, and others produced by the seasons. Tell me—is there any thing that does not fall under any one of these three heads?’

‘6.2.5. Dilemma the Sixty-Fifth. Things Without A Cause  

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‘ There are two such things, O king. And what are the two? Space, O king, and Nirvāṇa.’

^^^^

‘Now do not spoil the word of the Conquerors, Nāgasena, nor answer a question without knowing what you say!’

^^^^

‘What, pray, is it I have said, O king, that you should address me thus?’

^^^^

‘Venerable Nāgasena, that is right what you said in respect of space. But with hundreds of reasons did the Blessed One proclaim to his disciples the way to the realisation of Nirvāṇa. And yet you say that Nirvāṇa is not the result of any cause!’

^^^^

‘No doubt, O king, the Blessed One gave hundreds of reasons for our entering on the way to the realisation of Nirvāṇa. But he never told us of a cause out of which Nirvāṇa could be said to be produced.’

^^^^

‘Now in this, Nāgasena, we have passed from darkness into greater darkness, from a jungle into a denser jungle, from a thicket into a deeper thicket—inasmuch as you say there is a cause for the realisation of Nirvāṇa, but no cause from which it can arise. If, Nāgasena, there be a cause of the realisation of Nirvāṇa, then we must expect to find a cause of the origin of Nirvāṇa. just, Nāgasena, as because the son has a father, therefore we ought to expect that that father had a father—or because the pupil has a teacher, therefore we ought to expect that the teacher had a teacher—or because the plant came from a seed, therefore we ought to expect that the seed too had come from a seed —just so, Nāgasena, if there be a reason for the realisation of Nirvāṇa, we ought to expect that there is a reason too for its origin—just as if we saw the top of a tree, or of a creeper, we should conclude that it had a middle part, and a root.’

^^^^

‘Nirvāṇa, O king, is unproduceable, and no cause for its origin has been declared.’

^^^^

Come now, Nāgasena, give me a reason for this. Convince me by argument, so that I may know how it is that while there is a cause that will bring about the realisation of Nirvāṇa, there is no cause that will bring about Nirvāṇa itself.’

^^^^

‘Then, O king, give ear attentively, and listen well, and I will tell you what the reason is. Could a man, O king, by his ordinary power, go up from hence to the Himālaya, the king of mountains?’

^^^^

‘Yes, Sir, he could.’

‘But could a man, by his ordinary power, bring the Himālaya mountains here?’

^^^^

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘Well! therefore is it that while a cause for the realisation of Nirvāṇa can be declared, the cause of its origin can not. And could a man, O king, by his ordinary power cross over the great ocean in a ship, and so go to the further shore of it?’

^^^^

‘Yes, Sir, he could.’

‘But could a man by his ordinary power bring the further shore of the ocean here?’

^^^^

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘Well! so is it that while a cause for the realisation of Nirvāṇa can be declared, the cause of its origin can not. And why not? Because Nirvāṇa is not put together of any qualities.’

^^^^

‘What, Sir! is it not put together?’

‘No, O king. It is uncompounded, not made of anything. Of Nirvāṇa, O king, it cannot be said that it has been produced, or not been produced, or that it can be produced, that it is past or future or present, that it is perceptible by the eye or the ear or the nose or the tongue, or by the sense of touch.’

^^^^

‘But if so, Nāgasena, then you are only showing us how Nirvāṇa is a condition that does not exist. There can be no such thing as Nirvāṇa.’

^^^^

‘Nirvāṇa exists, O king. And it is perceptible to the mind. By means of his pure heart, refined and straight, free from the obstacles, free from low cravings, that disciple of the Noble Ones who has fully attained can see Nirvāṇa.’

^^^^

‘Then what, Sir, is Nirvāṇa? Such a Nirvāṇa (I mean) as can be explained by similes. Convince me by argument how far the fact of its existence can be explained by similes.’

^^^^

‘Is there such a thing, O king, as wind?’

‘Yes, of course.’

^^^^

‘Show it me then, I pray you, O king—whether by its colour, or its form, whether as thin or thick, or short or long!’

^^^^

‘But wind, Nāgasena, cannot be pointed out in that way. It is not of such a nature that it can be taken into the hand or squeezed. But it exists all the same.’

^^^^

‘If you can’t show me the wind, then there can’t be such a thing.’

^^^^

‘But I know there is, Nāgasena. That wind exists I am convinced, though I cannot show it you.’

^^^^

‘Well! just so, O king, does Nirvāṇa exist, though it cannot be shown to you in colour or in form.’

^^^^

‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the dilemma as to Nirvāṇa.

^^^^

6.2.6. Dilemma the Sixty-Sixth. Modes Of Production  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, what are they who are said, in this connection, to be “Karma-born,” and “cause-born,” and “season-born”? And what is it that is none of these?’

6.2.6. Dilemma the Sixty-Sixth. Modes Of Production  

^^^^

‘All beings, O king, who are conscious, are Karma-born (spring into existence as the result of Karma). Fire, and all things growing out of seeds, are cause-born (the result of a pre-existing material cause). The earth, and the hills, water, and wind—all these are season-born (depend for their existence on reasons connected with weather). Space and Nirvāṇa exist independently alike of Karma, and cause, and seasons. Of Nirvāṇa, O king, it cannot be said that it is Karma-born or cause-born or season-born; that it has been, or has not been, or can be produced, that it is past or future or present, that it is perceptible by the eye or the nose or the ear or the tongue or by the sense of touch. But it is perceptible, O king, by the mind. By means of his pure heart, refined and straight, free from the obstacles, free from low cravings, that disciple of the Noble Ones who has fully attained can see Nirvāṇa.’

^^^^

‘Well has this delightful puzzle, venerable Nāgasena, been examined into, cleared of doubt, brought into certitude. My perplexity has been put an end to as soon as I consulted you, O best of the best of the leaders of schools!’

^^^^

Here ends the dilemma as to modes of production.

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6.2.7. Dilemma the Sixty-Seventh. Dead Demons  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, are there such things as demons (Yakkhā) in the world?’

‘Yes, O king.’

6.2.7. Dilemma the Sixty-Seventh. Dead Demons  

^^^^

‘Do they ever leave that condition’ (fall out of that phase of existence)?

‘Yes, they do.’

^^^^

‘But, if so, why is it that the remains of those dead Yakkhas are never found, nor any odour of their corpses smelt? ’

^^^^

‘ Their remains are found, O king, and an odour does arise from their dead bodies. The remains of bad Yakkhas can be seen in the form of worms and beetles and ants and moths and snakes and scorpions and centipedes, and birds and wild beasts.’

^^^^

‘Who else, O Nāgasena, could have solved this puzzle except one as wise as you!’

Here ends the dilemma as to dead demons.

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6.2.8. Dilemma the Sixty-Eighth. The Method Of Promulgating the Rules  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, those who were teachers of the doctors in times gone by—Nārada, and Dhammantari, and Aṅgīrasa, and Kapila, and Kaṇḍaraggisāma, and Atula, and Pubba Kaccāyana —all these teachers knowing thoroughly, and of themselves, and without any omission, the rise of disease and its cause and nature and progress and cure and treatment and management —each of them composed his treatise en bloc, taking time by the forelock, and pointing out that in such and such a body such and such a disease would arise. Now no one of these was omniscient. Why then did not the Tathāgata, who was omniscient, and who knew by his insight of a Buddha what would happen in the future, determining in advance that for such and such an occasion such and such a rule would be required, lay down the whole code of rules at once; instead of laying them down to his disciples from time to time as each occasion arose, when the disgrace (of the wrong act) had been already noised abroad, when the evil was already wide spread and grown great, when the people were already filled with indignation ?’

6.2.8. Dilemma the Sixty-Eighth. The Method Of Promulgating the Rules  

^^^^

‘The Tathāgata, O king, knew very well that in fulness of time the whole of the hundred and fifty Rules would have to be laid down to those men. But the Tathāgata, O king, thought thus: “If I were to lay down the whole of the hundred and fifty Rules at once the people would be filled with fear , those of them who were willing to enter the Order would refrain from doing so, saying, ‘How much is there here to be observed! how difficult a thing is it to enter religion according to the system of the Samaṇa Gotama’—they would not trust my words, and through their want of faith they would be liable to rebirth in states of woe. As occasion arises therefore, illustrating it with a religious discourse, will I lay down, when the evil has become manifest, each Rule.”’

^^^^

‘A wonderful thing is it in the Buddhas, Nāgasena, and a most marvellous that the omniscience of the Tathāgata should be so great. That is just so, venerable Nāgasena. This matter was well understood by the Tathāgata—how that hearing that so much was to be observed, men would have been so filled with fear that not a single one would have entered religion according to the system of the Conquerors. That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

^^^^

Here ends the dilemma as to the method in which the Rules were laid down.

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6.2.9. Dilemma the Sixty-Ninth. The Heat Of the Sun  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, does this sun always burn fiercely, or are there times when it shines with diminished heat?’

6.2.9. Dilemma the Sixty-Ninth. The Heat Of the Sun  

^^^^

‘It always burns fiercely, O king, never gently.’

^^^^

‘But if that be so, how is it that the heat of the sun is sometimes fierce, and sometimes not ?’

^^^^

‘There are four derangements, O king, which happen to the sun, and affected by one or other of these its heat is allayed. And what are the four? the clouds, O king, and fog, and smoke, and eclipses —these are the four derangements which happen to the sun, and it is when affected by one or other of these that its heat is allayed.’

^^^^

‘Most wonderful, Nāgasena, and most strange that even the sun, so transcendent in glory, should suffer from derangement-how much more then other, lesser, creatures. No one else could have made this explanation except one wise like you!’

^^^^

Here ends the dilemma as to the heat of the sun.

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6.2.10. Dilemma the Seventieth. The Seasons  

Venerable Nāgasena, why is it that the heat of the sun is more fierce in winter than in summer?’

6.2.10. Dilemma the Seventieth. The Seasons  

^^^^

‘In the hot season, O king, dust is blown up into clouds, and pollen agitated by the winds rises up into the sky, and clouds multiply in the heavens, and gales blow with exceeding force. All these crowded and heaped together shut off the rays of the sun, and so in the hot season the heat of the sun is diminished. But in the cold season, O king, the earth below is at rest, the rains above are in reserve, the dust is quiet, the pollen wanders gently through the air, the sky is free from clouds, and very gently do the breezes blow. Since all these have ceased to act the rays of the sun become clear, and freed from every obstruction the sun’s heat glows and burns. This, O king, is the reason why the heat of the sun is more fierce in winter than in summer.

^^^^

‘So it is when set free from the obstacles besetting it that the sun burns fiercely, which it cannot do when the rains and so on are present with it.’

^^^^

[‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’]

Here ends the dilemma of the seasons.

Here ends the Seventh Chapter.

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6.3.1. Dilemma the Seventy-First. Vessantara’s Giving  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, do all the Bodisats give away their wives and children, or was it only Vessantara the king who did so?’

6.3.1. Dilemma the Seventy-First. Vessantara’s Giving  

^^^^

All of them do so, not Vessantara only.’

‘Do they then give them away with their own consent?’

^^^^

‘The wife, O king, was a consenting party. But the children, by reason of their tender age, lamented. Had they thoroughly understood, they too would have approved.’

^^^^

‘A hard thing, Nāgasena, was it that the Bodisat carried out, in that he gave away his own children, his only ones, dearly beloved, into slavery to the Brahman. And this second action was harder still, that he bound his own children, his only ones, and dearly beloved, young and tender though they were, with the jungle rope, and then, when he saw them being dragged along by the Brahman—their hands bruised by the creeper—yet could look on at the sight. And this third action was even harder still, that when his boy ran back to him, after loosing the bonds by his own exertion, then he bound him again with the jungle rope and again gave him away. And this fourth action was even harder still, that when the children, weeping, cried: “Father dear, this ogre is leading us away to eat us!” he should have appeased them by saying: “Don’t be afraid.” And this fifth action was even harder still, that when the prince, Jāli, fell weeping at his feet, and besought him, saying: “Be satisfied, father dear, only keep Kaṇhāginā (his little sister). I will go away with the ogre. Let him eat me!"—that even then he would not yield. And this sixth action was even harder still, that when the boy Jāli, lamenting, exclaimed: “Have you a heart of stone then, father, that you can look upon us, miserable, being led away by the ogre into the dense and haunted jungle, and not call us back?"—that he still had no pity. And this seventh action was even harder still, that when his children were thus led away to nameless horrors until they passed gradually to their bitter fate, out of sight—that then his heart did not break, utterly break! What, pray, has the man who seeks to gain merit to do with bringing sorrow on others! Should he not rather give himself away?’

^^^^

‘It is because what he did, O king, was so difficult, that the sound of the fame of the Bodisat was spread abroad among gods and men through the ten thousand world systems— that the gods exalt him in heaven; and the Titans in the Titan-world, and the Garudas in their abodes, and the Nāgas in the Nāga-world, and the Yakshas where they dwell—that through the ages the reputation of this his glory has been handed down by successive tradition—till now, to-day, it has reached to this meeting of ours, at which we sitting are, forsooth, disparaging and casting a slur on that gift, debating whether it were well given or ill! But that high praise, O king, shows forth the ten great qualities of the intelligent, and wise, and able, and subtle-minded Bodisats. And what are the ten? Freedom from greed, the not clinging (to any worldly aim), self-sacrifice, renunciation, the never turning back again (to the lower state), the equal delicacy and greatness, the incomprehensibility, the rarity, and the peerlessness of Buddhahood. In all these respects is it that the fame of that giving shows forth the great qualities of the Bodisats.’

^^^^

‘What, venerable Nāgasena? he who gives gifts in such a way as to bring sorrow upon others—does that giving of his bring forth fruit in happiness, does it lead to rebirth in states of bliss?’

^^^^

‘Yes, O king. What can be said (to the contrary)?’

^^^^

‘I pray you, Nāgasena, give me a reason for this.’

^^^^

‘Suppose, O king, there were some virtuous Samaṇa or Brahman, of high character, and he were paralysed, or a cripple, or suffering from some disease or other, and some man desirous of merit were to have him put into a carriage, and taken to the place he wished to go to. Would happiness accrue to that man by reason thereof, would that be an act leading to rebirth in states of bliss?’

^^^^

‘Yes, Sir. What can be said (to the contrary)? That man would thereby acquire a trained elephant, or a riding-horse, or a bullock-carriage, on land a land-vehicle and on water a water-vehicle, in heaven a vehicle of the gods and on earth one that men could use—from birth to birth there would accrue to him that which in each would be appropriate and fit—and joys appropriate would come to him, and he would pass from state to state of bliss, and by the efficacy of that act mounting on the vehicle of Iddhi he would arrive at the longed-for goal, the city of Nirvāṇa itself.’

^^^^

‘But then, O king, a gift given in such a way as to bring sorrow upon others does bring forth fruit in happiness, does lead to rebirth in states of bliss —inasmuch as that man by putting the cart-bullocks to pain would attain such bliss.

^^^^

‘And hear another reason, O king, for the same thing. Suppose some monarch were to raise from his subjects a righteous tax, and then by the issue of a command were to bestow thereout a gift, would that monarch, O king, enjoy any happiness on that account, would that be a gift leading to rebirth in states of bliss

^^^^

‘Certainly, Sir. What can be said against it? On that account the monarch would receive a hundred thousandfold, he might become a king of kings, a god above the gods, or Brahmā lord of the Brahmā gods, or a chief among the Samanas, or a leader of the Brahmans, or the most excellent among the Arahats.’

^^^^

‘Then, O king, a gift given in such a way as to bring sorrow upon others does bring forth fruit in happiness, does lead to rebirth in states of bliss—inasmuch as that monarch by giving as a gift what was gained by harassing his people with taxation would enjoy such exceeding fame and glory.’

^^^^

‘But, venerable Nāgasena, what was given by Vessantara the king was an excessive gift; in that he gave his own wife as wife to another man, and his own children, his only ones, into slavery to a Brahman. And excessive giving is by the wise in the world held worthy of censure and of blame. Just, Nāgasena, as under too much weight the axle-tree of a cart would break, or a ship would sink, as his food would disagree with him who ate too much, or the crops would be ruined by too heavy rain, or bankruptcy would follow too lavish generosity, or fever would come from too much heat, or a man would go mad from excessive lust, or become guilty of an offence through excessive anger, or fall into sin through excessive stupidity, or into the power of robbers through too much avarice, or be ruined by needless fear, or as a river would overflow through excessive inflow, or a thunderbolt fall through too much wind, or porridge boil over through too hot a fire, or a man who wandered about too much would not live long-just, so, Nāgasena, is excessive giving held by the wise in the world as worthy of censure and of blame. And as king Vessantara’s gift was excessive no good result could be expected from it.’

^^^^

‘Giving exceedingly, O king, is praised, applauded, and approved by the wise in the world; and they who give away anything as a gift just as it may occur to them, acquire fame in the world as very generous givers. Just, O king, as when a man has taken hold of a wild root which by its extraordinary virtues is divine, that moment he becomes invisible even to those standing within arm’s length—just as a medicinal herb by the exceeding power of its nature will utterly kill pain, and put an end to disease—just as fire burns by its exceeding heat, and water puts that fire out by its exceeding cold—just as by its exceeding purity a lotus remains undefiled by water or by mud—just as a (magic) gem by the extraordinary virtue inherent in it procures the granting of every wish—just as lightning by its marvellous quick sharpness cleaves asunder even the diamonds, pearls, and crystals—just as the earth by its exceeding size can support men, and snakes, and wild beasts, and birds, and the waters, and rocks, and hills, and trees—just as the ocean by its exceeding greatness can never be quite filled—just as Sineru by its mighty weight remains immoveable, and space by the greatness of its wide extent is infinite, and the sun by its mighty glory dissipates the darkness—just as the lion in the greatness of its lineage is free from fear—just as a wrestler in the greatness of his might easily lifts up his foe-just as a king by the excellence of his justice becomes overlord, and a Bhikkhu by reason of his very righteousness becomes an object of reverence to Nāgas, and Yakshas, and men, and Māras—just as a Buddha by the excellence of his supremacy is peerless—just so, O king, is exceeding generosity praised, applauded, and approved by the wise in the world; and they who give away anything as a gift, just as it may occur to them, acquire in the world the fame of being nobly generous. And by his mighty giving Vessantara the king, O king, was praised, and lauded, and exalted, and magnified, and famous throughout the ten thousand world systems, and by reason, too, of that mighty giving is it that he, the king Vessantara, has, now in our days, become the Buddha, the chief of gods and men.

^^^^

‘And now, O king, tell me—is there anything in the world which should be withheld as a gift, and not bestowed, when one worthy of a gift, one to whom it is one’s duty to give, is there?’

^^^^

‘There are ten sorts of gifts, Nāgasena, in the world that are commonly disapproved of as gifts. And what are the ten? Strong drink, Nāgasena, and festivals in high places, and women, and buffaloes, and suggestive paintings, and weapons, and poison, and chains, and fowls, and swine, and false weights and measures. All these, Nāgasena, are disapproved of in the world as gifts, and those who give such presents become liable to rebirth in states of woe.’

^^^^

‘I did not ask you, O king, what kinds of gifts are not approved of. But this, O king, I asked: “Is there anything in the world which ought to be withheld, and not bestowed as a gift, if one worthy of a gift were present?”’

^^^^

‘No, Sir. When faith arises in their hearts some give food to those worthy of gifts, and some give clothes, and some give bedding, and some give dwellings, and some give mats or robes, and some give slave girls or slaves, and some give fields or premises, and some give bipeds or quadrupeds, and some give a hundred or a thousand or a hundred thousand, and some give the kingdom itself, and some give away even their own life.’

^^^^

‘But then, O king, if some give away even their own lives, why do you so violently attack Vessantara, that king of givers, for the virtuous bestowal of his child and wife? Is there not a general practice in the world, an acknowledged custom, according to which it is allowable for a father who has fallen into debt, or lost his livelihood, to deposit his son in pledge, or sell him?’

^^^^

‘Yes, that is so.’

‘Well, in accordance therewith was it that Vessantara, O king, in suffering and distress at not having obtained the insight of the Omniscient Ones, pledged and sold his wife and children for that spiritual treasure. So that he gave away what other people had given away, he did what other people had done. Why then do you, O king, so violently attack him, the king of givers?’

^^^^

‘Venerable Nāgasena, I don’t blame him for giving, but for not having made a barter with the beggar, and given away himself rather, instead of his wife and children.’

^^^^

‘That, O king, would be an act of a wrong doer, to give himself when he was asked for his wife and children. For the thing asked for, whatever it is, is that which ought to be given. And such is the practice of the good. Suppose, O king, a man were to ask that water should be brought, would any one who then brought him food have done what he wanted?’

^^^^

‘No, Sir. The man who should have given what he first asked to be brought would have done what he wanted.’

^^^^

‘Just so, O king, when the Brahman asked Vessantara the king for his wife and children, it was his wife and children that he gave. If the Brahman, O king, had asked for Vessantara’s body, then would Vessantara have not saved his body, he would neither have trembled nor been stained (by the love of self), but would have given away and abandoned his own body. If, O king, any one had come up to Vessantara the king, and asked of him, saying: “Become my slave,” then would he have given away and abandoned his own self, and in so giving would he have felt no pain.

^^^^

‘Now the life of king Vessantara, O king, was a good thing shared in by many—just as meats when cooked are shared in by many, or as a tree covered with fruit is shared in by many flocks of birds. And why so? Because he had said to himself: “Thus acting may I attain to Buddhahood.” As a man in need, O king, who is wandering about in his search after wealth, will have to pass along goat-tracks, and through jungles full of stakes and sticks, and doing merchandise by sea and land, will devote his actions, words, and thoughts to the attainment of wealth—just so, O king, did Vessantara, the king of givers, who was longing for the treasure of Buddhahood, for the attainment of the insight of the Omniscient Ones, by offering up to anyone who begged of him his property and his corn, his slave girls and his slaves, his riding animals and carriages, all that he possessed, his wife and children and himself, seek after the Supreme Enlightenment. Just, O king, as an official who is anxious for the seal, and for the office of the custody thereof , will exert himself to the attainment of the seal by sacrificing everything in his house—property and corn, gold and silver, everything—just so, O king, did Vessantara, the king of givers, by giving away all that he had, inside his house and out, by giving even his life for others, seek after the Supreme Enlightenment.

^^^^

And further, O king, Vessantara, the king of givers, thought thus: “It is by giving to him precisely what he asks for, that I shall be of service to the Brahman:” and therefore did he bestow upon him his wife and children. It was not, O king, out of dislike to them that he gave them away, not because he did not care to see them more, not because he considered them an encumbrance or thought he could no longer support them, not (in annoyance) with the wish of being relieved of what was not pleasant to him—but because the jewel treasure of omniscience was dear to him, for the sake of the insight of the Omniscient Ones, did he bestow that glorious gift—immeasurable, magnificent, unsurpassed—of what was near and dear to him, greatly beloved, cherished as his own life, his own children and his wife! For it has been said, O king, by the Blessed One, the god of gods, in the cariyā Piṭaka:

^^^^

“’Twas not through hatred of my children sweet,
’Twas not through hatred of my queen, Maddī,
Thraller of hearts —not that I loved them less—
But Buddhahood more, that I renounced them all.”

^^^^

‘Now at that time, O king, Vessantara, when he had given away his wife and children, entered the leaf hut, and sat down there. And heavy grief fell upon him distressed by his exceeding love for them, and his very heart became hot, and hot breath, too much to find its way through the nose, came and went through his mouth, and tears rolled in drops of blood from his eyes. Such was the grief, O king, with which Vessantara gave to the Brahman his wife and children in the thought that his practice of giving should not be broken in upon. But there were two reasons, O king, why he thus gave them away. What are those two? That his practice of giving should not be interrupted was one; the other was that as a result of his so doing his children, distressed by living with him only on wild roots and fruits, should eventually be set free by their new master. For Vessantara knew, O king: “No one is capable of keeping my children as slaves. Their grandfather will ransom the children, and so they will come back to me.” These are the two reasons why he gave his children away to the Brahman.

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‘And further, O king, Vessantara knew:

“This Brahman is worn out, aged, well stricken in years, weak and broken, leaning on a stick, he has drawn near the end of his days, his merit is small, he will not be capable of keeping my children as slaves.” Would a man be able, O king, by his ordinary power, to seize the moon and the sun, mighty and powerful as they are, keeping them in a basket or a box, to use them, deprived of their light, as plates?’

^^^^

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘Neither, O king, could any one whatever keep in use, as his slaves, the children of Vessantara, who were to the world like the moon and the sun in glory.

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‘And hear another reason, O king, for the same thing. That wondrous gem, O king of a sovran overlord, bright and beautiful, with its eight facets so well cut, four cubits in thickness, and in circumference as the nave of a cart-wheel, could no man, wrapping it up in a cloth and putting it into a basket, keep and use as a hone to grind his scissors upon. And neither, O king, could any one soever keep in use, as his slaves, the children of Vessantara, like to the jewels of the lord of the world in glory.

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‘And hear, O king, another reason. just as the elephant king Uposatha, gentle and handsome, eight cubits in height and nine in girth and length, showing the signs of rut in three places on his body, all white, sevenfold firm, could never by any one be covered up with a saucer or a winnowing fan, could never be put into a cowpen like a calf, or made use of as one ; just so could no one whatever keep in use, as his slaves, the children of Vessantara, who were, in the world, like Uposatha the elephant king.

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‘And hear, O king, another reason. Just, O king, as the mighty ocean is great in length and breadth, and deep, not to be measured, and hard to cross, impossible to fathom or to cover up, and no one could close it in and make use of it as a single ferry, just so could no one whatever keep in use, as his slaves, the children of Vessantara, as esteemed in the world as the mighty ocean.

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‘And hear another reason, O king. Just as the Himālaya, the king of the mountains, five leagues high, and three thousand leagues in extent at the circumference, with its ranges of eight and forty thousand peaks, the source of five hundred rivers, the dwelling-place of multitudes of mighty—creatures, the producer of manifold perfumes, enriched with hundreds of magical drugs, is seen to rise aloft, like a cloud, in the centre (of the earth); like it, O king, could no one whatever keep in use, as his slaves, the children of Vessantara, as esteemed in the world as Himālaya, the mountain king.

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‘And hear another reason, O king. Just as a mighty bonfire burning on a mountain top would be visible afar off in the darkness and the gloom of night, so was Vessantara the king well known among men, and therefore could no one whatever keep in use, as his slaves, the children of so distinguished a man—for just as at the time of the flowering of the Nāga trees in the Himālaya mountains, when the soft winds (of spring) are blowing, the perfume of the flowers is wafted for ten leagues, or for twelve , so was the sound of the fame of king Vessantara noised abroad, and the sweet perfume of his righteousness wafted along for thousands of leagues, even up to the abodes of the Akaniṭṭha, (the highest of all) gods, passing on its way the dwelling places of the gods and Asuras, of the Garudas and Gandhabbas, of the Yakshas and Rākshasas, of the Mahoragas and Kinnaras, and of Indra the monarch of the gods! Therefore is it that no one could keep his children as slaves.

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‘And the young prince Jāli, O king, was instructed by his father, Vessantara, in these words: “When your grandfather, my child, shall ransom you with wealth that he gives to the Brahman, let him buy you back for a thousand ounces of gold, and when he ransoms your sister Kaṇhājinā let him buy her back for a hundred slaves and a hundred slave girls and a hundred elephants and a hundred horses and a hundred cows and a hundred buffaloes and a hundred ounces of gold. And if, my child, your grandfather should take you out of the hands of the Brahman by word of command, or by force, paying nothing, then obey not the words of your grandfather, but remain still in subjection to the Brahman.” Such was his instruction as he sent him away. And young Jāli went accordingly, and when asked by his grandfather, said:

^^^^

“As worth a thousand ounces, Sir,
My father gave me to this man;
As worth a hundred elephants,
He gave the girl Kaṇhājinā.”’

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‘Well has this puzzle, Nāgasena, been unravelled, well has the net of heresy been torn to pieces, well has the argument of the adversaries been overcome and your own doctrine been made evident, well has the letter (of the Scriptures) been maintained while you have thus explained its spirit! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the dilemma as to Vessantara’s gift of his wife and children.

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6.3.2. Dilemma the Seventy-Second. Penance  

Venerable Nāgasena, did all the Bodisats go through a period of penance, or only Gotama?’

‘Not all, O king, but Gotama did.’

6.3.2. Dilemma the Seventy-Second. Penance  

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, if that be so, it is not right that there should be a difference between Bodisat and Bodisat.’

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‘There are four matters, O king, in which there is such difference. And what are the four? There is a difference as to the kind of family (in which they are born), there is a difference as to their place in the period (which has elapsed since the succession of Buddhas began), there is a difference as to the length of their individual lives, there is a difference as to their individual size. In these four respects, O king, there is a difference between Bodisat and Bodisat. But there is no difference between any of the Buddhas, who are alike in bodily beauty, in goodness of character, in power of contemplation and of reasoning, in emancipation, in the insight arising from the knowledge of emancipation, in The four bases of confidence, in the ten powers of a Tathāgata, in the sixfold special knowledge, in the fourteenfold knowledge of Buddha, in the eighteen characteristics of a Buddha —in a word, in all the qualities of a Buddha. For all the Buddhas are exactly alike in all the Buddha-qualities.’

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‘But if, Nāgasena, that be so, what is the reason that it was only the Gotama Bodisat who carried out the penance?’

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‘Gotama the Bodisat had gone forth from the world, O king, when his knowledge was immature, and his wisdom was immature. And it was when he was bringing that immature knowledge to maturity that he carried out the penance.’

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‘Why then, Nāgasena, was it that he thus went forth with knowledge and with wisdom immatured? Why did he not first mature his knowledge, and then, with his knowledge matured, renounce the world?’

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‘When the Bodisat, O king, saw the women of his harem all in disorder, then did he become disgusted, and in him thus disgusted discontent sprang up. And on perceiving that his heart was filled with discontent, a certain god of those that wait on Death (Māra) thought: “This now is the time to dispel that discontent of his heart,” and standing in the air he gave utterance to these words: “O honourable one! O fortunate one! Be not thou distressed. On the seventh day from this the heavenly treasure of the Wheel shall appear to thee, with its thousand spokes, its tire, and its nave, complete and perfect; and the other treasures, those that walk on earth and those that travel through the sky, shall come to thee of their own accord; and the words of command of thy mouth shall bear sway over the four great continents and the two thousand dependent isles; and thou shalt have above a thousand sons, heroes mighty in strength to the crushing out of the armies of the foe; and with those sons surrounding thee thou, master of the Seven Treasures, shalt rule the world!” But even as if a bar of iron, heated the livelong day and glowing throughout, had entered the orifice of his ear, so was it that those words, O king, entered the ear of the Bodisat. And to the natural distress he already felt there was added, by that utterance of the god, a further emotion, anxiety, and fear. just as a mighty fiery furnace, were fresh fuel thrown on it, would the more furiously burn—just as the broad earth, by nature moist, and already swampy through the water dripping on it from the vegetation and the grass that have arisen on it, would become more muddy still when a great rain cloud had poured out rain upon it—so to the distress that he already felt there was added, by that utterance of the god, a further emotion, anxiety, and fear.’

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‘But tell me, Nāgasena, if the heavenly Wheel-treasure had, on the seventh day, appeared to the Bodisat, would he, the Wheel having appeared, have been turned back from his purpose?’

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‘No Wheel-treasure appeared, O king, on the seventh day to the Bodisat. For rather that was a lie that was told by that god with the object of tempting him. And even had it appeared, yet would not the Bodisat have turned aside. And why not? Because the Bodisat, O king, had firmly grasped (the facts of) the impermanence (of all things, of) the suffering (inherent in existence as an individual, of) the absence of a soul (in any being made up of the five Skandhas), and had thus arrived at the destruction of the attachment (to individuality which arises from lust, or from heresy, or from dependence upon outward acts, or from delusions as to the possession of a permanent soul). The water, O king, which flows into the river Ganges from the Anottata lake, and from the Ganges river into the great ocean, and from the great ocean into the openings into the regions under the earth —would that water, after it had once entered that opening, turn back and flow again into the great ocean, and from the great ocean into the Ganges river, and from the Ganges river into the Anottata lake?’

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‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘In the same way, O king, it was for the sake of that last existence of his that the Bodisat had matured merit through the immeasurable aeons of the past. He had now reached that last birth, the knowledge of the Buddhas had grown mature in him, in six years he would become a Buddha, all-knowing, the highest being in the world. Would then the Bodisat, for the sake of the Wheel-treasure, turn back?’

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‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘No! Though the great earth, O king, with all its peaks and mountain ranges, should turn back, yet the Bodisat would not before he had attained to Buddhahood. Though the water of the Ganges should flow backwards up the stream, yet the Bodisat would not turn back before he had attained to Buddhahood. Though the mighty ocean with its immeasurable waters should dry up like the water in the footprint of a cow, yet would not the Bodisat turn back before he had attained to Buddhahood. Though Sineru, the king of the mountains, should split up into a hundred or a thousand fragments, yet would not the Bodisat turn back before he had attained to Buddhahood. Though the moon and sun with all the stars should fall, like a clod, upon the ground, yet would not the Bodisat turn back before he had attained to Buddhahood. Though the expanse of heaven should be rolled up like a mat, yet would not the Bodisat turn back before he had attained to Buddhahood! And why not? Because he had torn asunder every bond.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, how many bonds are there in the world?’

‘There are these ten bonds in the world, O king, bound by which men renounce not the world, or turn back again to it. And what are the ten? A mother, O king, is often a bond, and a father, and a wife, and children, and relations, and friends, and wealth, and easy income, and sovranty, and the five pleasures of sense. These are the ten bonds common in the world, bonds bound by which men renounce not the world or turn back to it. And all these bonds had the Bodisat, O king, burst through. And therefore could he not, O king, turn back.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, if the Bodisat, on discontent arising in his heart at the words of the god, though his knowledge (of the four Truths) was yet imperfect, and his insight of a Buddha not mature, did nevertheless go forth into renunciation of the world, of what advantage was penance to him then? Ought he not rather, awaiting the maturity of his knowledge, to have lived in the enjoyment of all (suitable) foods?’

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‘There are, O king, these ten sorts of individuals who are despised and contemned in the world, thought shameful, looked down upon, held blameworthy, treated with contumely, not loved. And what are the ten? A woman without a husband, O king, and a weak creature, and one without friends or relatives, and a glutton, and one dwelling in a disreputable family, and the friend of sinners, and he whose wealth has been dissipated, and he who has no character, and he who has no occupation, and he who has no means. These are the ten despised and contemned in the world, thought shameful, looked down upon, held blameworthy, treated with contumely, not loved. It was on calling these conditions to mind, O king, that this idea occurred to the Bodisat: “Let me not incur blame among gods and men as being without occupation or without means! Let me as a master in action, held in respect by reason of action, one having the supremacy which arises from action, one whose conduct is based upon action, one who carries action (into every concern of life), one who has his dwelling in action, be constant in earnestness.” That was the spirit, O king, in which the Bodisat, when he was bringing his knowledge to maturity, undertook the practice of penance.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, the Bodisat, when he was undergoing penance, said thus to himself: “But it is not by this penance severe that I shall reach the peculiar faculty of the insight arising from the knowledge of that which is fit and noble—that insight beyond the powers of ordinary men, May there not be now some other way to the wisdom (of Buddhahood) ?”

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‘Was then the Bodisat, at that time, confused in his mind about the way ?’

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‘There are twenty-five qualities, O king, which are causes of weakness of mind, weakened by which the mind cannot successfully be devoted to the destruction of the āsavas (the Great Evils—lust, becoming, delusion, and ignorance). And what are the twenty-five? Anger, O king, and enmity, and hypocrisy, and conceit, and envy, and avarice, and deceit, and treachery, and obstinacy, and perverseness, and pride, and vainglory, and the intoxication (of exalted ideas about birth or health or wealth), and negligence in (well-doing), and intellectual inertness or bodily sloth, and drowsiness, and idleness, and friendship with sinners, and forms, and sounds, and odours, and tastes, and sensations of touch, and hunger, and thirst, and discontent. These are the twenty-five qualities, O king, which are causes of weakness of mind, weakened by which the mind cannot successfully be devoted to the destruction of the āsavas. (And of these it was) hunger and thirst, O king, which had then seized hold of the body of the Bodisat. And his body being thus, as it were, “possessed,” his mind was not rightly devoted to the destruction of the āsavas. Now the Bodisat, O king, through the immeasurable aeons of the past, had followed after the perception of the Four Noble Truths through all of his successive births. Is it then possible that in his last existence, in the birth in which that perception was to arise, there should be any confusion in his mind as to the way? But nevertheless there arose, O king, in the Bodisat’s mind the thought: “May there not now be some other way to the wisdom (of a Buddha)?” And already before that, O king, when he was only one month old, when his father the Sakya was at work (ploughing), the Bodisat, placed in his sacred cot for coolness under the shade of the jambu tree, sat up crosslegged, and putting away passion, free from all evil conditions of heart, he entered into and remained in the first Ghāna—a state of joy and ease, born of seclusion, full of reflection, full of investigation, and so into the second, and so into the third, and so into the fourth Ghāna.’

^^^^

‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say. It was whilst he was bringing his knowledge to maturity that the Bodisat underwent the penance.’

Here ends the dilemma as to the penance undergone by the Bodisat.

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6.3.3. Dilemma the Seventy-Third. Virtue Stronger Than Vice  

‘Venerable Nāgasena, which is the more powerful, virtue or vice?’

‘Virtue, O king.’

‘That is a saying, Nāgasena, which I cannot believe-that virtue is more powerful than vice. For there are to be seen here (in the world) men who destroy living creatures, who take to themselves what has not been given, who walk in evil in their lusts, who speak lies, who commit gang robberies on whole villages, who are highwaymen, sharpers, and swindlers, and these all according to their crime suffer the cutting off of their hands, or their feet, or their hands and feet, or their ears, or Their nose, or their ears and nose, or the Gruel Pot, or the Chank Crown, or the Rāhu’s Mouth, or the Fire Garland, or the Hand Torch, or the Snake Strips, or the Bark Dress, or the Spotted Antelope, or the Flesh Hooks, or the Penny Cuts, or the Brine Slits, or the Bar Turn, or the Straw Seat, or they are anointed with boiling oil, or eaten by dogs, or are impaled alive, or are beheaded with a sword. Some of them sin one night and that night experience the fruit of their sin, some sinning by night experience the next day, some sinning one day experience that day, some sinning by day experience that night, some experience when two days or three have elapsed. But all experience in this present visible world the result of their iniquity. And is there any one, Nāgasena, who from having provided a meal with all its accessories for one, or two, or three, or four, or five, or ten, or a hundred, or a thousand (members of the Order), has enjoyed in this present visible world wealth or fame or happiness—(is there any one who) from righteousness of life, or from observance of the Uposatha, (has received bliss even in this life)?’

6.3.3. Dilemma the Seventy-Third. Virtue Stronger Than Vice  

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‘There are , O king, four men who by giving gifts, and by the practice of uprightness, and by the keeping of Uposatha, even in their earthly bodies attained to glory in Tidasapura (the city of the gods).’

‘And who, Sir, were they ?’

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‘Mandhātā the king, and Nimi the king, and Sādhīna the king, and Guttila the musician.’

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‘Venerable Nāgasena, this happened thousands of births ago, and is beyond the ken of either of us two. Give me, if you can, some examples from that period (of the world) which is now elapsing in which the Blessed One has been alive.’

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‘In this present period, O king, the slave Puṇṇaka, on giving a meal to Sāriputta the Elder, attained that day to the dignity of a treasurer (Seṭṭhi), and he is now generally known as Puṇṇaka the Seṭṭhi. The queen, the mother of Gopāla, who (being the daughter of poor peasant folk) sold her hair for eight pennies, and therewith gave a meal to Mahā Kaccāyana the Elder and his seven companions, became that very day the chief queen of king Udena. Suppiyā, the believing woman, cut flesh from her own thigh to provide broth for a sick Bhikkhu, and on the very next day the wound closed up, and the place became cured, with skin grown over it. Mallikā, the queen who (when a poor flower girl) gave the last night’s gruel (she had reserved for her own dinner) to the Blessed One, became that very day the chief queen of the king of Kosala. Sumana, the garland maker, when he had presented to the Blessed One eight bunches of jessamine flowers, came that very day into great prosperity. Eka-sāṭaka the Brahman, who gave to the Blessed One his only garment, received that very day the office of Sabbaṭṭhaka (Minister in general). All these, O king, came into the enjoyment of wealth and glory in their then existing lives.’

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‘So then, Nāgasena, with all your searching and enquiry you have only found six cases ?’

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‘That is so, O king.’ ‘Then it is vice, Nāgasena, and not virtue which is the more powerful. For on one day alone I have seen ten men expiating their crimes by being impaled alive, and thirty even, and forty, and fifty, , and a hundred, and a thousand. And further, there was Bhaddasāla, the soldier in the service of the royal family of Nanda, and he waged war against king candagutta. Now in that war, Nāgasena, there were eighty Corpse Dances. For they say that when one great Head Holocaust has taken place (by which is meant the slaughter of ten thousand elephants, and a lac of horses, and five thousand charioteers, and a hundred koṭis of soldiers on foot), then the headless corpses arise and dance in frenzy over the battle-field. And all the men thus slain came to destruction through the fruit of the Karma of their evil deeds. And therefore, too, do I say, Nāgasena, that vice is more powerful than virtue. And have you heard, Nāgasena, that in all this dispensation (since the time of Gotama the Buddha) the giving by the Kosala king has been unequalled?’

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‘Yes, I have heard so, O king.’

‘But did he, Nāgasena, on account of his having given gifts so unequalled, receive in this present life wealth, or glory, or happiness?’

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‘No, O king, he did not.’

‘Then, in that case, surely, Nāgasena, vice is more powerful than virtue?’

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‘Vice, O king, by reason of its meanness, dies quickly away. But virtue, by reason of its grandeur, takes a long time to die. And this can be further examined into by a metaphor. just, O king, as in the West Country the kind of corn called Kumuda-bhaṇḍikā, ripening quickly and being garnered in a month, is called Māsalu (got in a month), but the rices only come to perfection in six months or five. What then is the difference, what the distinction herein between Kumuda-bhaṇḍikā and rice?

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‘The one is a mean plant, Sir, the other a grand one. The rices are worthy of kings, meet for The king’s table; the other is the food of servants and of slaves.

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‘Just so, O king, it is by reason of its meanness that vice dies quickly away. But virtue, by its grandeur, takes a long time to die.’

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‘But, Nāgasena, it is just those things which come most quickly to their end which are in the world considered the most powerful. And so still vice must be the more powerful, not virtue. just, Nāgasena, as the strong man who, when he enters into a terrible battle, is able the most quickly to get hold of his enemies’ heads under his armpit, and dragging them along to bring them prisoners to his lord, that is the champion who is regarded, in the world, as the ablest hero—just as that surgeon who is able the most quickly to extract the dart, and allay the disease, is considered the most clever—just as the accountant who is able with the greatest speed to make his calculations, and with most rapidity to show the result, is considered the cleverest counter—just as the wrestler who is able the most quickly to lift his opponent up, and make him fall flat on his back, is considered the ablest hero—just so, Nāgasena, it is that one of these two things—virtue and vice—which most quickly reaches its end that is, in the world, the more powerful of the two.’

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‘The Karma of both the two, O king, will be made evident in future births; but vice besides that will by reason of its guilt be made evident at once, and in this present life. The rulers (Kshatriyas) of old, O king, established this decree: “Whosoever takes life shall be subject to a fine, and whosoever takes to himself what has not been given, and whosoever commits adultery,, and whosoever speaks lies, and whosoever is a dacoit, and whosoever is a highwayman, and whosoever cheats and swindles. Such men shall be liable to be fined or beaten or mutilated or broken or executed.” And in pursuance thereof they held repeated enquiry, and then adjudged one or other punishment accordingly. But, O king, has there ever been by any one a decree promulgated: “Whosoever gives gifts, or observes a virtuous life, or keeps Uposatha, to him shall wealth be given, or honours?” And do they make continued enquiry, and bestow wealth or honours accordingly, as they do stripes or bonds upon a thief?’

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‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘Well, if they did so then would virtue too be made evident even in this life. But as they neither make such enquiry concerning givers, nor bestow wealth and honours upon them, therefore is virtue not manifested now. And this is the reason, O king, why vice is made known in this life, whereas he (the giver) receives the more abundantly in the lives to come. And therefore it is virtue which, through the distinctions brought about by Karma, is by far the more powerful of the two.’

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‘Very good, Nāgasena! Only by one wise as you could this puzzle have been so well solved. the problem put by me in worldly sense have you in transcendental sense made clear.’

Here ends the dilemma as to virtue and vice.

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