Majjhima Nikāya (Middle-Length Discourses)

“It’s incredible, sir, it’s amazing! How well this was said by Venerable Ānanda! I’m delighted and satisfied with what you’ve expressed so well. So much so that if an elephant-treasure was suitable for you, I would give you one. If a horse-treasure was suitable for you, I would give you one. If a prize village was suitable for you, I would give you one. But, sir, I know that these things are not suitable for you. This foreign cloth was sent to me by King Ajātasattu of Magadha, son of the princess of Videha, packed in a parasol case. It’s exactly sixteen measures long and eight wide. May Venerable Ānanda please accept it out of sympathy.” “Enough, Great King. My three robes are complete.”

“Sir, we have both seen this Aciravatī River when it has rained heavily in the mountains, and the river overflows both its banks. In the same way, Venerable Ānanda can make a set of three robes for himself from this foreign cloth, and you can share your old robes with your fellow monks. In this way my religious donation will come to overflow, it seems to me. Please accept the foreign cloth.”

So Ānanda accepted it. Then King Pasenadi said to him, “Well, now, sir, I must go. I have many duties, and much to do.” “Please, Great King, go at your convenience.” Then King Pasenadi approved and agreed with what Ānanda said. He rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled Ānanda, keeping him on his right, before leaving.

Soon after he left, Ānanda went to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and told him what had happened. He presented the cloth to the Buddha.

Then the Buddha said to the mendicants, “Mendicants, King Pasenadi is lucky, so very lucky, to get to see Ānanda and pay homage to him.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the land of the Sakyans, near the Sakyan town named Medaḷumpa.

Now at that time King Pasenadi of Kosala had arrived at Townsville on some business. Then he addressed Dīgha Kārāyana, “My good Kārāyana, harness the finest chariots. We will go to a park and see the scenery.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Dīgha Kārāyana. He harnessed the chariots and informed the king, “Your Majesty, the finest chariots are harnessed. Please go at your convenience.”

Then King Pasenadi mounted a fine carriage and, along with other fine carriages, set out in full royal pomp from Townsville, heading for the park grounds. He went by carriage as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and entered the park on foot.

As he was going for a walk in the park he saw roots of trees that were impressive and inspiring, quiet and still, far from the madding crowd, remote from human settlements, and fit for retreat. The sight reminded him right away of the Buddha: “These roots of trees, so impressive and inspiring, are like those where we used to pay homage to the Blessed One, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha.” He addressed Dīgha Kārāyana, “These roots of trees, so impressive and inspiring, are like those where we used to pay homage to the Blessed One, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. My good Kārāyana, where is that Buddha at present?”

“Great king, there is a Sakyan town named Medaḷumpa. That’s where the Buddha is now staying.” “But how far away is that town?” “Not far, Great King, it’s three leagues. We can get there while it’s still light.” “Well then, harness the chariots, and we shall go to see the Buddha.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Dīgha Kārāyana. He harnessed the chariots and informed the king, “Your Majesty, the finest chariots are harnessed. Please go at your convenience.”

Then King Pasenadi mounted a fine carriage and, along with other fine carriages, set out from Townsville to Medaḷumpa. He reached the town while it was still light and headed for the monastery grounds. He went by carriage as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and entered the monastery on foot.

At that time several mendicants were walking mindfully in the open air. King Pasenadi of Kosala went up to them and said, “Sirs, where is the Blessed One at present, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha? For I want to see him.”

“Great king, that’s his dwelling, with the door closed. Approach it quietly, without hurrying; go onto the porch, clear your throat, and knock on the door-panel. The Buddha will open the door.” The king right away presented his sword and turban to Dīgha Kārāyana, who thought, “Now the king seeks privacy. I should wait here.” Then the king approached the Buddha’s dwelling, cleared his throat and knocked on the door-panel, and the Buddha opened the door.

King Pasenadi entered the dwelling, and bowed with his head to the Buddha’s feet, caressing them and covering them with kisses, and pronounced his name: “Sir, I am Pasenadi, king of Kosala! I am Pasenadi, king of Kosala!” “But, Great King, for what reason do you demonstrate such utmost deference for this body, conveying your manifest love?”

“Sir, I infer about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’ It happens, sir, that I see some ascetics and brahmins leading the spiritual life only for a limited period: ten, twenty, thirty, or forty years. Some time later—nicely bathed and anointed, with hair and beard dressed—they amuse themselves, supplied and provided with the five kinds of sensual stimulation. But here I see the mendicants leading the spiritual life entirely full and pure as long as they live, to their last breath. I don’t see any other spiritual life elsewhere so full and pure. That’s why I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, kings fight with kings, aristocrats fight with aristocrats, brahmins fight with brahmins, householders fight with householders. A mother fights with her child, child with mother, father with child, and child with father. Brother fights with brother, brother with sister, sister with brother, and friend fights with friend. But here I see the mendicants living in harmony, appreciating each other, without dispute, blending like milk and water, and regarding each other with kindly eyes. I don’t see any other assembly elsewhere so harmonious. So I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, I have walked and wandered from monastery to monastery and from park to park. There I’ve seen some ascetics and brahmins who are thin, haggard, pale, and veiny—hardly a captivating sight for people, you’d think. It occurred to me: ‘Clearly these venerables lead the spiritual life dissatisfied, or they’re hiding some bad deed they’ve done. That’s why they’re thin, haggard, pale, and veiny—hardly a captivating sight for people, you’d think.’ I went up to them and said: ‘Venerables, why are you so thin, haggard, pale, and veiny—hardly a captivating sight for people, you’d think?’ They say: ‘We have jaundice, Great King.’ But here I see mendicants always smiling and joyful, obviously happy, with cheerful faces, living relaxed, unruffled, surviving on charity, their hearts free as a wild deer. It occurred to me: ‘Clearly these venerables have realized a higher distinction in the Buddha’s instructions than they had before. That’s why these venerables are always smiling and joyful, obviously happy, with cheerful faces, living relaxed, unruffled, surviving on charity, their hearts free as a wild deer.’ So I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, as an anointed aristocratic king I am able to execute, fine, or banish those who are guilty. Yet when I’m sitting in court they interrupt me. And I can’t get them to stop interrupting me and wait until I’ve finished speaking. But here I see the mendicants while the Buddha is teaching an assembly of many hundreds, and there is no sound of his disciples coughing or clearing their throats. Once it so happened that the Buddha was teaching an assembly of many hundreds. Then one of his disciples cleared their throat. And one of their spiritual companions nudged them with their knee, to indicate: ‘Hush, venerable, don’t make a sound! Our teacher, the Blessed One, is teaching!’ It occurred to me: ‘Oh lord, how incredible, how amazing, how an assembly can be so well trained without rod or sword!’ I don’t see any other assembly elsewhere so well trained. So I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, I’ve seen some astute aristocrats who are subtle, accomplished in the doctrines of others, hair-splitters. You’d think they live to demolish convictions with their intellect. They hear: ‘So, gentlemen, that ascetic Gotama will come down to such-and-such village or town.’ They formulate a question, thinking: ‘We’ll approach the ascetic Gotama and ask him this question. If he answers like this, we’ll refute him like that; and if he answers like that, we’ll refute him like this.’ When they hear that he has come down they approach him. The Buddha educates, encourages, fires up, and inspires them with a Dhamma talk. They don’t even get around to asking their question to the Buddha, so how could they refute his answer? Invariably, they become his disciples. So I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, I see some astute brahmins …

some astute householders …

some astute ascetics who are subtle, accomplished in the doctrines of others, hair-splitters. … They don’t even get around to asking their question to the Buddha, so how could they refute his answer? Invariably, they ask the Buddha for the chance to go forth. And he gives them the going-forth. Soon after going forth, living withdrawn, diligent, keen, and resolute, they realize the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. They live having achieved with their own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness. They say: ‘We were almost lost! We almost perished! For we used to claim that we were ascetics, brahmins, and perfected ones, but we were none of these things. But now we really are ascetics, brahmins, and perfected ones!’ So I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, these chamberlains Isidatta and Purāṇa share my meals and my carriages. I give them a livelihood and bring them renown. And yet they don’t show me the same level of deference that they show to the Buddha. Once it so happened that while I was leading a military campaign and testing Isidatta and Purāṇa I took up residence in a cramped house. They spent much of the night discussing the teaching, then they lay down with their heads toward where the Buddha was and their feet toward me. It occurred to me: ‘Oh lord, how incredible, how amazing! These chamberlains Isidatta and Purāṇa share my meals and my carriages. I give them a livelihood and bring them renown. And yet they don’t show me the same level of deference that they show to the Buddha. Clearly these venerables have realized a higher distinction in the Buddha’s instructions than they had before.’ So I infer this about the Buddha from the teaching: ‘The Blessed One is a fully awakened Buddha. The teaching is well explained. The Saṅgha is practicing well.’

Furthermore, the Buddha is an aristocrat, and so am I. The Buddha is Kosalan, and so am I. The Buddha is eighty years old, and so am I. Since this is so, it’s proper for me to act with such utmost deference for the Buddha and convey my manifest love.

Well, now, sir, I must go. I have many duties, and much to do.” “Please, Great King, go at your convenience.” Then King Pasenadi rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before leaving.

Soon after the king had left, the Buddha addressed the mendicants: “Mendicants, before he got up and left, King Pasenadi spoke shrines to the teaching. Learn these shrines to the teaching! Memorize these shrines to the teaching! Remember these shrines to the teaching! These shrines to the teaching are beneficial and relate to the fundamentals of the spiritual life.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Ujuññā in the deer park at Kaṇṇakatthala.

Now at that time King Pasenadi of Kosala had arrived at Ujuññā on some business. Then he addressed a man, “Please, my man, go to the Buddha, and in my name bow with your head to his feet. Ask him if he is healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably. And then say: ‘Sir, King Pasenadi of Kosala will come to see you today when he has finished breakfast.’” “Yes, Your Majesty,” that man replied. He did as the king asked.

The sisters Somā and Sakulā heard this. While the meal was being served, they approached the king and said, “Great king, since you are going to the Buddha, please bow in our name with your head to his feet. Ask him if he is healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably.”

When he had finished breakfast, King Pasenadi went to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, the sisters Somā and Sakulā bow with their heads to your feet. They ask if you are healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably.” “But, Great King, couldn’t they get any other messenger?” So Pasenadi explained the circumstances of the message. The Buddha said, “May the sisters Somā and Sakulā be happy, Great King.”

Then the king said to the Buddha, “I have heard, sir, that the ascetic Gotama says this: ‘There is no ascetic or brahmin who will ever claim to be all-knowing and all-seeing, to know and see everything without exception: that is not possible.’ I trust those who say this repeat what the Buddha has said, and do not misrepresent him with an untruth? Is their explanation in line with the teaching? Are there any legitimate grounds for rebuttal and criticism?” “Great king, those who say this do not repeat what I have said. They misrepresent me with what is false and untrue.”

Then King Pasenadi addressed General Viḍūḍabha, “General, who introduced this topic of discussion to the royal compound?” “It was Sañjaya, Great King, the brahmin of the Ākāsa clan.”

Then the king addressed a man, “Please, my man, in my name tell Sañjaya that King Pasenadi summons him.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” that man replied. He did as the king asked.

Then the king said to the Buddha, “Sir, might the Buddha have spoken in reference to one thing, but that person believed it was something else? How then do you recall making this statement?” “Great king, I recall making this statement: ‘There is no ascetic or brahmin who will ever know all and see all simultaneously: that is not possible.’” “What the Buddha says appears reasonable.

Sir, there are these four classes: aristocrats, brahmins, peasants, and menials. Is there any difference between them?” “Of the four classes, two are said to be preeminent— the aristocrats and the brahmins. That is, when it comes to bowing down, rising up, greeting with cupped palms, and observing proper etiquette.”

“Sir, I am not asking you about this life, but about the life to come.” “Great king, there are these five factors that support meditation. What five? It’s when a mendicant has faith in the Realized One’s awakening: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ They are rarely ill or unwell. Their stomach digests well, being neither too hot nor too cold, but just right, and fit for meditation. They’re not devious or deceitful. They reveal themselves honestly to the Teacher or sensible spiritual companions. They live with energy roused up for giving up unskillful qualities and embracing skillful qualities. They’re strong, staunchly vigorous, not slacking off when it comes to developing skillful qualities. They’re wise. They have the wisdom of arising and passing away which is noble, penetrative, and leads to the complete ending of suffering. These are the five factors that support meditation. There are these four classes: aristocrats, brahmins, peasants, and menials. If they had these five factors that support meditation, that would be for their lasting welfare and happiness.”

“Sir, there are these four classes: aristocrats, brahmins, peasants, and menials. If they had these five factors that support meditation, would there be any difference between them?” “In that case, I say it is the disparity of their efforts in meditation. Suppose there was a pair of elephants or horses or oxen in training who were well tamed and well trained. And there was a pair who were not tamed or trained. What do you think, Great King? Wouldn’t the pair that was well tamed and well trained perform the tasks of the tamed, and reach the level of the tamed?” “Yes, sir.” “But would the pair that was not tamed and trained perform the tasks of the tamed and reach the level of the tamed, just like the tamed pair?” “No, sir.” “In the same way, there are things that must be attained by someone with faith, health, integrity, energy, and wisdom. It’s not possible for a faithless, unhealthy, deceitful, lazy, witless person to attain them.”

“What the Buddha says appears reasonable. Sir, there are these four classes: aristocrats, brahmins, peasants, and workers. If they had these five factors that support meditation, and if they practiced rightly, would there be any difference between them?” “In that case, I say that there is no difference between the freedom of one and the freedom of the other. Suppose a person took dry teak wood and lit a fire and produced heat. Then another person did the same using sāl wood, another used mango wood, while another used wood of the cluster fig. What do you think, Great King? Would there be any difference between the fires produced by these different kinds of wood, that is, in the flame, color, or luminosity?” “No, sir.” “In the same way, when fire has been churned by energy and produced by effort, I say that there is no difference between the freedom of one and the freedom of the other.”

“What the Buddha says appears reasonable. But sir, do gods survive?” “But what exactly are you asking?” “Whether those gods come back to this place or not.” “Those gods who are afflicted come back to this place, but those who are unafflicted do not come back.”

When he said this, General Viḍūḍabha said to the Buddha, “Sir, will the gods who are afflicted topple or expel from their place the gods who are unafflicted?” Then Venerable Ānanda thought, “This General Viḍūḍabha is King Pasenadi’s son, and I am the Buddha’s son. Now is the time for one son to confer with another.” So Ānanda addressed General Viḍūḍabha, “Well then, general, I’ll ask you about this in return, and you can answer as you like. What do you think, general? As far as the dominion of King Pasenadi of Kosala extends, where he rules as sovereign lord, can he topple or expel from that place any ascetic or brahmin, regardless of whether they are good or bad, or whether or not they are genuine spiritual practitioners?” “He can, worthy.” “What do you think, general? As far as the dominion of King Pasenadi does not extend, where he does not rule as sovereign lord, can he topple or expel from that place any ascetic or brahmin, regardless of whether they are good or bad, or whether or not they are genuine spiritual practitioners?” “He cannot, worthy.” “What do you think, general? Have you heard of the gods of the thirty-three?” “Yes, worthy, I’ve heard of them, and so has the worthy King Pasenadi.” “What do you think, general? Can King Pasenadi topple or expel from their place the gods of the thirty-three?” “King Pasenadi can’t even see the gods of the thirty-three, so how could he possibly topple or expel them from their place?” “In the same way, general, the gods who are afflicted can’t even see the gods who are unafflicted, so how could they possibly topple or expel them from their place?”

Then the king said to the Buddha, “Sir, what is this mendicant’s name?” “Ānanda, Great King.” “A joy he is, and a joy he seems! What Venerable Ānanda says seems reasonable. But sir, does a divinity survive?” “But what exactly are you asking?” “Whether that divinity comes back to this place or not.” “A divinity who is afflicted comes back to this place, but one who is unafflicted does not come back.”

Then a certain man said to the king, “Great king, Sañjaya, the brahmin of the Ākāsa clan, has come.” Then King Pasenadi asked Sañjaya, “Brahmin, who introduced this topic of discussion to the royal compound?” “It was General Viḍūḍabha, Great King.” But Viḍūḍabha said, “It was Sañjaya, Great King, the brahmin of the Ākāsa clan.”

Then a certain man said to the king, “It’s time to go, Great King.” So the king said to the Buddha, “Sir, I asked you about omniscience, and you answered. I endorse and accept this, and am satisfied with it. I asked you about purification in the four classes, about the gods, and about divinities, and you answered in each case. Whatever I asked the Buddha about, he answered. I endorse and accept this, and am satisfied with it. Well, now, sir, I must go. I have many duties, and much to do.” “Please, Great King, go at your convenience.”

Then King Pasenadi approved and agreed with what the Buddha said. Then he got up from his seat, bowed and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before leaving.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was wandering in the land of the Videhans together with a large Saṅgha of five hundred mendicants.

Now at that time the brahmin Brahmāyu was residing in Mithilā. He was old, elderly, and senior, advanced in years, having reached the final stage of life; he was a hundred and twenty years old. He had mastered the three Vedas, together with their vocabularies and ritual performance, their phonology and word classification, and the testaments as fifth. He knew them word-by-word, and their grammar. He was well versed in cosmology and the marks of a great man.

He heard: “It seems the ascetic Gotama—a Sakyan, gone forth from a Sakyan family—is wandering in the land of the Videhans, together with a large Saṅgha of five hundred mendicants. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has realized with his own insight this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—and he makes it known to others. He teaches Dhamma that’s good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end, meaningful and well-phrased. And he reveals a spiritual practice that’s entirely full and pure. It’s good to see such perfected ones.”

Now at that time the brahmin Brahmāyu had a pupil named Uttara. He too had mastered the Vedic curriculum. Brahmāyu told Uttara of the Buddha’s presence in the land of the Videhans, and added: “Please, dear Uttara, go to the ascetic Gotama and find out whether or not he lives up to his reputation. Through you I shall learn about the worthy Gotama.”

“But sir, how shall I find out whether or not the ascetic Gotama lives up to his reputation?” “Dear Uttara, the thirty-two marks of a great man have been handed down in our hymns. A great man who possesses these has only two possible destinies, no other. If he stays at home he becomes a king, a wheel-turning monarch, a just and principled king. His dominion extends to all four sides, he achieves stability in the country, and he possesses the seven treasures. He has the following seven treasures: the wheel, the elephant, the horse, the jewel, the woman, the householder, and the commander as the seventh treasure. He has over a thousand sons who are valiant and heroic, crushing the armies of his enemies. After conquering this land girt by sea, he reigns by principle, without rod or sword. But if he goes forth from the lay life to homelessness, he becomes a perfected one, a fully awakened Buddha, who has cast off the world’s veil. But, dear Uttara, I am the one who gives the hymns, and you are the one who receives them.”

“Yes, worthy sir,” replied Uttara. He got up from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled Brahmāyu, keeping him on his right, before setting out for the land of the Videhans where the Buddha was wandering. Traveling stage by stage, he came to the Buddha and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side, and scrutinized his body for the thirty-two marks of a great man. He saw all of them except two, which he had doubts about: whether the private parts are sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue. Then it occurred to the Buddha, “This student Uttara sees all the marks except two, which he has doubts about: whether the private parts are sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue.”

So the Buddha used his psychic power to will that Uttara would see his private parts sheathed in a foreskin. And he stuck out his tongue and stroked back and forth on his ear holes and nostrils, and covered his entire forehead with his tongue.

Then Uttara thought, “The ascetic Gotama possesses the thirty-two marks. Why don’t I follow him and observe his deportment?” So Uttara followed the Buddha like a shadow for seven months. When seven months had passed he set out wandering toward Mithilā. There he approached the brahmin Brahmāyu, bowed, and sat down to one side. Brahmāyu said to him, “Well, dear Uttara, does the worthy Gotama live up to his reputation or not?” “He does, sir. The worthy Gotama possesses the thirty-two marks.

He has well-planted feet. On the soles of his feet there are thousand-spoked wheels, with rims and hubs, complete in every detail. He has stretched heels. He has long fingers. His hands and feet are soft and tender. He has serried hands and feet. The tops of his feet are arched. His calves are like those of an antelope. When standing upright and not bending over, the palms of both hands touch the knees. His private parts are sheathed in a foreskin. He is golden colored; his skin shines like lustrous gold. He has delicate skin, so delicate that dust and dirt don’t stick to his body. His hairs grow one per pore. His hairs stand up; they’re blue-black and curl clockwise. His body is tall and straight-limbed. He has bulging muscles in seven places. His chest is like that of a lion. He is filled out between the shoulders. He has the proportional circumference of a banyan tree: the span of his arms equals the height of his body. His torso is cylindrical. He has ridged taste buds. His jaw is like that of a lion. He has forty teeth. His teeth are even. His teeth have no gaps. His teeth are perfectly white. He has a large tongue. He has the voice of the Divinity, like a cuckoo’s call. His eyes are indigo. He has eyelashes like a cow’s. Between his eyebrows there grows a tuft, soft and white like cotton-wool. The crown of his head is like a turban. These are the thirty-two marks of a great man possessed by the worthy Gotama.

When he’s walking he takes the first step with the right foot. He doesn’t lift his foot too far or place it too near. He doesn’t walk too slow or too fast. He walks without knocking his knees or ankles together. When he’s walking he keeps his thighs neither too straight nor too bent, neither too tight nor too loose. When he walks, only the lower half of his body moves, and he walks effortlessly. When he turns to look he does so with the whole body. He doesn’t look directly up or down. He doesn’t look all around while walking, but focuses a plough’s length in front. Beyond that he has unhindered knowledge and vision.

When entering an inhabited area he keeps his body neither too straight nor too bent, neither too tight nor too loose.

He turns around neither too far nor too close to the seat. He doesn’t lean on his hand when sitting down. And he doesn’t just plonk his body down on the seat. When sitting in inhabited areas he doesn’t fidget with his hands or feet. He doesn’t sit with his knees or ankles crossed. He doesn’t sit with his hand holding his chin. When sitting in inhabited areas he doesn’t shake, tremble, quake, or get nervous, and so he is not nervous at all. When sitting in inhabited areas he still practices seclusion.

When receiving water for rinsing the bowl, he holds the bowl neither too straight nor too bent, neither too tight nor too loose.

He receives neither too little nor too much water. He rinses the bowl without making a sloshing noise, or spinning it around. He doesn’t put the bowl on the ground to rinse his hands; his hands and bowl are rinsed at the same time. He doesn’t throw the bowl rinsing water away too far or too near, or splash it about. When receiving rice, he holds the bowl neither too straight nor too bent, neither too close nor too loose. He receives neither too little nor too much rice. He eats sauce in a moderate proportion, and doesn’t put too much sauce on his portions. He chews over each portion two or three times before swallowing. But no grain of rice enters his body unchewed, and none remain in his mouth. Only then does he raise another portion to his lips. He eats experiencing the taste, but without experiencing greed for the taste. He eats food thinking of eight reasons: ‘Not for fun, indulgence, adornment, or decoration, but only to sustain this body, to avoid harm, and to support spiritual practice. In this way, I shall put an end to old discomfort and not give rise to new discomfort, and I will have the means to keep going, blamelessness, and a comfortable abiding.’

After eating, when receiving water for washing the bowl, he holds the bowl neither too straight nor too bent, neither too tight nor too loose. He receives neither too little nor too much water. He washes the bowl without making a sloshing noise, or spinning it around. He doesn’t put the bowl on the ground to wash his hands; his hands and bowl are washed at the same time. He doesn’t throw the bowl washing water away too far or too near, or splash it about.

After eating he doesn’t put the bowl on the ground too far away or too close. He’s not careless with his bowl, nor does he spend too much time on it.

After eating he sits a while in silence, but doesn’t wait too long to give the verses of appreciation. After eating he expresses appreciation without criticizing the meal or expecting another one. Invariably, he educates, encourages, fires up, and inspires that assembly with a Dhamma talk. Then he gets up from his seat and leaves.

He walks neither too fast nor too slow, without wanting to get out of there.

He wears his robe on his body neither too high nor too low, neither too clinging nor too loose. The wind doesn’t blow his robe off his body. And dust and dirt don’t stick to his body.

When he has gone to the monastery he sits on a seat spread out and washes his feet. But he doesn’t waste time with pedicures. When he has washed his feet, he sits down cross-legged, sets his body straight, and brings mindfulness to the present. He has no intention to hurt himself, hurt others, or hurt both. He only wishes for the welfare of himself, of others, of both, and of the whole world.

In the monastery when he teaches Dhamma to an assembly, he neither flatters them nor rebukes them. Invariably, he educates, encourages, fires up, and inspires that assembly with a Dhamma talk. The sound of his voice has eight qualities: it is clear, comprehensible, charming, audible, lucid, undistorted, deep, and resonant. He makes sure his voice is intelligible as far as the assembly goes, but the sound doesn’t extend outside the assembly. And when they’ve been inspired with a Dhamma talk by the worthy Gotama they get up from their seats and leave looking back at him alone, and not forgetting their lesson.

I have seen the worthy Gotama walking and standing; entering inhabited areas, and sitting and eating there; sitting silently after eating, and expressing appreciation; going to the monastery, sitting silently there, and teaching Dhamma to an assembly there. Such is the worthy Gotama; such he is and more than that.”

When he had spoken, the brahmin Brahmāyu rose from his seat, arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his cupped palms toward the Buddha, and uttered this aphorism three times: “Homage to him, the blessed one, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha! Homage to him, the blessed one, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha! Homage to him, the blessed one, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha! Hopefully, some time or other I’ll get to meet him, and we can have a discussion.”

And then the Buddha, traveling stage by stage in the Videhan lands, arrived at Mithilā, where he stayed in the Maghadeva Mango Grove. The brahmins and householders of Mithilā heard: “It seems the ascetic Gotama—a Sakyan, gone forth from a Sakyan family—has arrived at Mithilā, where he is staying in the Maghadeva Mango Grove. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has realized with his own insight this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—and he makes it known to others. He teaches Dhamma that’s good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end, meaningful and well-phrased. And he reveals a spiritual practice that’s entirely full and pure. It’s good to see such perfected ones.”

Then the brahmins and householders of Mithilā went up to the Buddha. Before sitting down to one side, some bowed, some exchanged greetings and polite conversation, some held up their cupped palms toward the Buddha, some announced their name and clan, while some kept silent.

The brahmin Brahmāyu also heard that the Buddha had arrived. So he went to the Maghadeva Mango Grove together with several disciples. Not far from the grove he thought, “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to go to see the ascetic Gotama without letting him know beforehand.” So he addressed one of his young students: “Here, young student, go to the ascetic Gotama and in my name bow with your head to his feet. Ask him if he is healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably. And then say: ‘Worthy Gotama, the brahmin Brahmāyu is old, elderly, and senior, advanced in years, having reached the final stage of life; he is a hundred and twenty years old. He has mastered the three Vedas, together with their vocabularies and ritual performance, their phonology and word classification, and the testaments as fifth. He knows them word-by-word, and their grammar. He is well versed in cosmology and the marks of a great man. Of all the brahmins and householders residing in Mithilā, Brahmāyu is said to be the foremost in wealth, hymns, lifespan, and fame. He wants to see the worthy Gotama.’” “Yes, worthy sir,” that young student replied. He did as he was asked, and the Buddha said, “Please, student, let Brahmāyu come at his convenience.”

The young student went back to Brahmāyu and said to him, “Your request for an audience with the ascetic Gotama has been granted. Please go at your convenience.”

Then the brahmin Brahmāyu went up to the Buddha. The assembly saw him coming off in the distance, and made way for him, as he was well-known and famous. Brahmāyu said to that retinue, “Enough, gentlemen. Please sit on your own seats. I shall sit here by the ascetic Gotama.”

Then the brahmin Brahmāyu went up to the Buddha, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side, and scrutinized the Buddha’s body for the thirty-two marks of a great man. He saw all of them except two, which he had doubts about: whether the private parts are sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue. Then Brahmāyu addressed the Buddha in verse: “I have learned of the thirty-two marks of a great man. There are two that I don’t see on the body of the worthy Gotama. Are the private parts sheathed in a foreskin, O supreme man? Though called by a word of the feminine gender, perhaps your tongue is a manly one? Perhaps your tongue is large, as we have been informed. Please stick it out in its full extent, and so, O seer, dispel my doubt. For my welfare and benefit in this life, and happiness in lives to come. And I ask you to grant the opportunity to ask whatever I desire.”

Then it occurred to the Buddha, “Brahmāyu sees all the marks except two, which he has doubts about: whether the private parts are sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue.” So the Buddha used his psychic power to will that Brahmāyu would see his private parts sheathed in a foreskin. And he stuck out his tongue and stroked back and forth on his ear holes and nostrils, and covered his entire forehead with his tongue. Then the Buddha replied to Brahmāyu in verse:

“The thirty-two marks of a great man that you have learned are all found on my body: so do not doubt, brahmin. I have known what should be known, and developed what should be developed, and given up what should be given up: and so, brahmin, I am a Buddha. For your welfare and benefit in this life, and happiness in lives to come: I grant you the opportunity to ask whatever you desire.”

Then Brahmāyu thought: “My request has been granted. Should I ask him about what is beneficial in this life or the next?” Then he thought, “I’m well versed in the benefits that apply to this life, and others ask me about this. Why don’t I ask the ascetic Gotama about the benefit that specifically applies to lives to come?” So Brahmāyu addressed the Buddha in verse: “How do you become a brahmin? And how do you become a knowledge master? How a master of the three knowledges? And how is one called a scholar? How do you become a perfected one? And how a consummate one? How do you become a sage? And how is one declared to be awakened?”

Then the Buddha replied to Brahmāyu in verse: “One who knows their past lives, sees heaven and places of loss, and has attained the end of rebirth: such a sage has perfect insight. They know their mind is pure, completely freed from greed; they’ve given up birth and death, and have completed the spiritual journey. Gone beyond all things, such a one is declared to be awakened.”

When he said this, Brahmāyu got up from his seat and arranged his robe over one shoulder. He bowed with his head to the Buddha’s feet, caressing them and covering them with kisses, and pronounced his name: “I am the brahmin Brahmāyu, worthy Gotama! I am the brahmin Brahmāyu!”

Then that assembly, their minds full of wonder and amazement, thought, “Oh lord, how incredible, how amazing, that Brahmāyu, who is so well-known and famous, should show the Buddha such utmost deference.” Then the Buddha said to Brahmāyu, “Enough, brahmin. Get up, and sit in your own seat, since your mind has such confidence in me.” So Brahmāyu got up and sat in his own seat.

Then the Buddha taught him step by step, with a talk on giving, ethical conduct, and heaven. He revealed the drawbacks of sensual pleasures, so sordid and corrupt, and the benefit of renunciation. And when the Buddha knew that Brahmāyu’s mind was ready, pliable, rid of hindrances, elated, and confident he revealed the special teaching of the Buddhas: suffering, its origin, its cessation, and the path. Just as a clean cloth rid of stains would properly absorb dye, in that very seat the stainless, immaculate vision of the Dhamma arose in the brahmin Brahmāyu: “Everything that is liable to arise is liable to cease.” Then Brahmāyu saw, attained, understood, and fathomed the Dhamma. He went beyond doubt, got rid of indecision, and became self-assured and independent of others regarding the Teacher’s instructions. He said to the Buddha:

“Excellent, worthy Gotama! Excellent! As if he were righting the overturned, or revealing the hidden, or pointing out the path to the lost, or lighting a lamp in the dark so people with clear eyes can see what’s there, worthy Gotama has made the teaching clear in many ways. I go for refuge to the worthy Gotama, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha. From this day forth, may the worthy Gotama remember me as a lay follower who has gone for refuge for life. Would you and the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” The Buddha consented with silence. Then, knowing that the Buddha had consented, Brahmāyu rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before leaving.

And when the night had passed Brahmāyu had delicious fresh and cooked foods prepared in his own home. Then he had the Buddha informed of the time, saying, “It’s time, worthy Gotama, the meal is ready.” Then the Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, went to the home of the brahmin Brahmāyu, where he sat down on the seat spread out together with the Saṅgha of mendicants. For seven days, Brahmāyu served and satisfied the mendicant Saṅgha headed by the Buddha with his own hands with delicious fresh and cooked foods.

When the seven days had passed, the Buddha left to wander in the Videhan lands. Not long after the Buddha left, Brahmāyu passed away. Then several mendicants went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, Brahmāyu has passed away. Where has he been reborn in his next life?” “Mendicants, the brahmin Brahmāyu was astute. He practiced in line with the teaching, and did not trouble me about the teachings. With the ending of the five lower fetters, he’s been reborn spontaneously and will become extinguished there, not liable to return from that world.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was wandering together with a large Saṅgha of 1,250 mendicants in the land of the Aṅguttarāpans when he arrived at a town of theirs named Āpaṇa.

The matted-hair ascetic Keṇiya heard: “It seems the ascetic Gotama—a Sakyan, gone forth from a Sakyan family—has arrived at Āpaṇa, together with a large Saṅgha of 1,250 mendicants. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has realized with his own insight this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—and he makes it known to others. He proclaims a teaching that’s good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end, meaningful and well-phrased. And he reveals a spiritual practice that’s entirely full and pure. It’s good to see such perfected ones.”

So Keṇiya approached the Buddha and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side. The Buddha educated, encouraged, fired up, and inspired him with a Dhamma talk. Then he said to the Buddha, “Would Worthy Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” When he said this, the Buddha said to him, “The Saṅgha is large, Keṇiya; there are 1,250 mendicants. And you are devoted to the brahmins.” For a second time, Keṇiya asked the Buddha to accept a meal offering. “Never mind that the Saṅgha is large, with 1,250 mendicants, and that I am devoted to the brahmins. Would Worthy Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” And for a second time, the Buddha gave the same reply. For a third time, Keṇiya asked the Buddha to accept a meal offering. “Never mind that the Saṅgha is large, with 1,250 mendicants, and that I am devoted to the brahmins. Would Worthy Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?” The Buddha consented with silence.

Then, knowing that the Buddha had consented, Keṇiya rose from his seat and went to his own hermitage. There he addressed his friends and colleagues, relatives and kin, “My friends and colleagues, relatives and kin: please listen! The ascetic Gotama together with the mendicant Saṅgha has been invited by me for tomorrow’s meal. Please help me out with the manual preparations.” “Yes, worthy sir,” they replied. Some dug ovens, some chopped wood, some washed dishes, some set up a water jar, and some spread out seats. Meanwhile, Keṇiya set up the pavilion himself.

Now at that time the brahmin Sela was residing in Āpaṇa. He had mastered the three Vedas, together with their vocabularies and ritual performance, their phonology and word classification, and the testaments as fifth. He knew them word-by-word, and their grammar. He was well versed in cosmology and the marks of a great man. And he was teaching three hundred young students to recite the hymns.

And at that time Keṇiya was devoted to Sela. Then Sela, while going for a walk escorted by the three hundred young students, approached Keṇiya’s hermitage. He saw the preparations going on,

and said to Keṇiya, “Worthy Keṇiya, is your son or daughter being married? Or are you setting up a grand sacrifice? Or has King Seniya Bimbisāra of Magadha been invited for tomorrow’s meal?”

“There is no marriage, Worthy Sela, and the king is not coming. Rather, I am setting up a grand sacrifice. The ascetic Gotama has arrived at Āpaṇa, together with a large Saṅgha of 1,250 mendicants. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has been invited by me for tomorrow’s meal together with the mendicant Saṅgha.”

“Did you say ‘the awakened one’?” “I said ‘the awakened one’.” “Did you say ‘the awakened one’?” “I said ‘the awakened one’.”

Then Sela thought: “It’s hard to even find the word ‘awakened one’ in the world. The thirty-two marks of a great man have been handed down in our hymns. A great man who possesses these has only two possible destinies, no other. If he stays at home he becomes a king, a wheel-turning monarch, a just and principled king. His dominion extends to all four sides, he achieves stability in the country, and he possesses the seven treasures. He has the following seven treasures: the wheel, the elephant, the horse, the jewel, the woman, the householder, and the commander as the seventh treasure. He has over a thousand sons who are valiant and heroic, crushing the armies of his enemies. After conquering this land girt by sea, he reigns by principle, without rod or sword. But if he goes forth from the lay life to homelessness, he becomes a perfected one, a fully awakened Buddha, who casts off the veil from the world.”

He said, “But Keṇiya, where is the Blessed One at present, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha?” When he said this, Keṇiya pointed with his right arm and said, “There, worthy Sela, at that line of blue forest.”

Then Sela, together with his young students, approached the Buddha. He said to his young students, “Come quietly, gentlemen, tread gently. For the Buddhas are intimidating, like a lion living alone. When I’m consulting with the ascetic Gotama, don’t interrupt. Wait until I’ve finished speaking.”

Then Sela went up to the Buddha, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, he sat down to one side, and scrutinized the Buddha’s body for the thirty-two marks of a great man. He saw all of them except two, which he had doubts about: whether the private parts were sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue. Then it occurred to the Buddha, “Sela sees all the marks except two, which he has doubts about: whether the private parts are sheathed in a foreskin, and the largeness of the tongue.”

The Buddha used his psychic power to will that Sela would see his private parts sheathed in a foreskin. And he stuck out his tongue and stroked back and forth on his ear holes and nostrils, and covered his entire forehead with his tongue.

Then Sela thought, “The ascetic Gotama possesses the thirty-two marks completely, lacking none. But I don’t know whether or not he is an awakened one. I have heard that brahmins of the past who were elderly and senior, the tutors of tutors, said, ‘Those who are perfected ones, fully awakened Buddhas reveal themselves when praised.’ Why don’t I extoll him in his presence with fitting verses?” Then Sela extolled the Buddha in his presence with fitting verses:

“O Blessed One, your body’s perfect, you’re radiant, handsome, lovely to behold; golden colored, with teeth so white; you’re strong. The characteristics of a handsome man, the marks of a great man, are all found on your body. Your eyes are clear, your face is fair, you’re formidable, upright, majestic. In the midst of the Saṅgha of ascetics, you dazzle like the sun. You’re a mendicant fine to see, with skin that shines like lustrous gold. But with such excellent appearance, what do you want with the ascetic life? You’re fit to be a king, a wheel-turning monarch, chief of charioteers, victorious in the four quarters, lord of the Black Plum Tree Land. Aristocrats, nobles, and kings ought follow your rule. Gotama, may you reign as king of kings, lord of mankind!”

“I am a king, Sela, the supreme king of the teaching. By the teaching I roll forth the wheel which cannot be rolled back.”