Sutta Nipata

A righteous life, a spiritual life, they call this the supreme treasure. But if someone goes forth from the lay life to homelessness

who is of scurrilous character, a beast and a bully, their life gets worse, as poison grows inside them.

A mendicant who loves to quarrel, wrapped in delusion, doesn’t even know what’s been explained in the Dhamma taught by the Buddha.

Harassing those who are evolved, governed by ignorance, they don’t know that corruption is the path that leads to hell.

Entering the underworld, passing from womb to womb, <j>from darkness to darkness, such a mendicant falls into suffering after death.

One such as that is like a sewer brimful with years of filth for it’s hard to clean one full of grime.

Mendicants, knowing that someone is like this, attached to the domestic life, of corrupt wishes and wicked intent, of bad behavior and alms-resort,

then having gathered in harmony, you should expel them. Throw out the trash! Get rid of the rubbish!

And sweep away the scraps— they’re not ascetics, they just think they are. When you’ve thrown out those of corrupt wishes, of bad behavior and alms-resort,

dwell in communion, ever mindful, the pure with the pure. Then in harmony, alert, you’ll make an end of suffering.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Then several old and well-to-do brahmins of Kosala—elderly and senior, who were advanced in years and had reached the final stage of life—went up to the Buddha, and exchanged greetings with him. When the greetings and polite conversation were over, they sat down to one side and said to the Buddha: “Worthy Gotama, are the ancient principles of the brahmins exhibited these days among brahmins?” “No, brahmins, they are not.” “If you wouldn’t mind, Worthy Gotama, please teach us the ancient principles of the brahmins.” “Well then, brahmins, listen and apply your mind well, I will speak.” “Yes, worthy sir,” they replied. The Buddha said this:

“The ancient seers used to be restrained and austere. Having given up the five sensual stimuli, they lived for their own true good.

Brahmins used to own no cattle, nor gold coin or grain. Chanting was their money and grain, which they guarded as a gift from god.

Food was prepared for them and left beside their doors. People believed that food prepared in faith should be given to them.

With colorful clothes, lodgings and houses, prosperous nations and countries honored those brahmins.

Brahmins used to be inviolable and invincible, protected by principle. No one ever turned them away from the doors of families.

For forty-eight years they led the spiritual life. The brahmins of old pursued their quest for knowledge and conduct.

Brahmins never transgressed with another, nor did they purchase a wife. They lived together in love, joining together by mutual consent.

Brahmins never approached their wives for sex during the time outside the fertile phase of the menstrual cycle after menstruation.

They praised chastity and morality, integrity, tenderness, and fervor, gentleness and harmlessness, and also patience.

He who was supreme among them, godlike, staunchly vigorous, did not engage in sex even in a dream.

Training in line with their duties, many smart people here praised chastity and morality, and also patience.

They begged for rice, bedding, clothes, ghee, and oil. Having collected them legitimately, they arranged a sacrifice.

But they slew no cows while serving at the sacrifice. Like a mother, father, or brother, or some other relative, cows are our best friends, the fonts of medicine.

They give food and strength, and beauty and happiness. Knowing these benefits, they slew no cows.

The brahmins were delicate and tall, beautiful and glorious. They were keen on all the duties according to their teachings. So long as they continued in the world, people flourished happily.

But perversion crept into them little by little when they saw the transformation of the king and the ladies in all their finery.

Their chariots were harnessed with thoroughbreds, well-made with bright canopies, and their homes and houses were neatly divided section by section.

They were lavished with herds of cattle, and furnished with bevies of lovely ladies. This extravagant human wealth was coveted by the brahmins.

They compiled hymns to that end, approached King Okkāka and said, ‘You have plenty of money and grain. Sacrifice! For you have much treasure. Sacrifice! For you have much money.’

Persuaded by the brahmins, the king, chief of charioteers, performed horse sacrifice, human sacrifice, the sacrifices of the ‘casting of the yoke-pin’, <j>the ‘royal soma drinking’, and the ‘unimpeded’. When he had carried out these sacrifices, he gave riches to the brahmins.

There were cattle, bedding, and clothes, and ladies in all their finery; chariots harnessed with thoroughbreds, well-made with bright canopies;

and lovely homes, nicely divided section by section. Having furnished them with different grains, he gave riches to the brahmins.

When they got hold of that wealth, they arranged to store it up. Falling under the sway of desire, their craving grew and grew. They compiled hymns to that end, approached King Okkāka once more and said,

‘Like water and earth, gold coin, riches, and grain, are cows for humankind, as they are essential for creatures. Sacrifice! For you have much treasure. Sacrifice! For you have much money.’

Persuaded by the brahmins, the king, chief of charioteers, had many hundred thousand cows slain at the sacrifice.

Neither with feet nor with horns do cows harm anyone at all. Cows meek as lambs supply buckets of milk. But taking them by the horns, the king slew them with a sword.

At that the gods and the ancestors, with Indra, the titans and monsters, roared out: ‘This is a crime against nature!’ as the sword fell on the cows.

There used to be three kinds of illness: greed, starvation, and old age. But due to the slaughter of cows, this grew to be ninety-eight.

This crime of the rods is of ancient descent. Killing innocent creatures, the sacrificers forsake righteousness.

And that is how this mean old practice was criticized by sensible people. Wherever they see such a thing, folk criticize the sacrificer.

With righteousness gone, peasants and menials were split, as were many aristocrats, and wives looked down on their husbands.

Aristocrats and brahmins only by kin, and others protected by their clan, neglecting their genealogy, fell under the sway of sensual pleasures.”

When he had spoken, those well-to-do brahmins said to the Buddha, “Excellent, worthy Gotama! Excellent! … From this day forth, may the worthy Gotama remember us as lay followers who have gone for refuge for life.”

If you would learn the teaching from someone, honor them as the gods honor Indra. Then they will have confidence in you, and being learned, they reveal the teaching.

Heeding well, an attentive one, practicing in line with that teaching grows intelligent, discerning, and subtle through diligently sticking close to such a person.

But associating with a petty fool who falls short of the goal, jealous, then unable to discern the teaching in this life, one proceeds to death still plagued by doubts.

It’s like a man who has plunged into a river, a rushing torrent in spate. As they are swept away downstream, how could they help others across?

Just so, one unable to discern the teaching, who hasn’t studied the meaning under the learned, not knowing it oneself, still plagued by doubts, how could they help others to contemplate?

But one who has embarked on a strong boat equipped with rudder and oar, would bring many others across there with skill, care, and thoughtfulness.

So too one who understands—a knowledge master, evolved, learned, and unflappable— can help others to contemplate, so long as they are prepared to listen carefully.

That’s why you should spend time with a true person, intelligent and learned. Having understood the meaning, <j>putting it into practice, one who understands the teaching <j>would find happiness.

“With what morality, what conduct, fostering what deeds, would a person lay the foundations right, and reach the highest goal?”

“Honoring elders without jealousy, they’d know the time to visit their respected teachers. Treasuring the chance for a Dhamma talk, they’d listen carefully to the well-spoken words.

At the right time, they’d enter <j>the vicinity of their respected teachers in placid manner, leaving obstinacy behind. They’d call to mind and put into practice the meaning, the teaching, self-control, <j>and the spiritual life.

Delighting in the teaching, enjoying the teaching, standing on the teaching, evaluating the teaching, they’d never say anything that degraded the teaching, but would be guided by genuine words well-spoken.

Giving up mirth, muttered prayer, weeping, ill will, deceit, fawning, greed, conceit, aggression, crudeness, stains, and indulgence, they’d wander free of vanity, steadfast.

Understanding is the essence of well-spoken words, stillness is the essence of learning and understanding. Wisdom and learning do not flourish in a hasty and negligent person.

Those happy with the teaching <j>proclaimed by the Noble One are supreme in speech, mind, and deed. Abiding in peace, gentleness, and stillness, they’ve realized the essence of learning and wisdom.”

Get up and meditate! What’s the point in your sleeping? How can the afflicted slumber when inflicted by an arrow strike?

Get up and meditate! Train hard for peace! The King of Death has caught you heedless— don’t let him fool you under his sway.

Needy gods and humans are held back by clinging: get over it. Don’t let the moment pass you by. For if you miss your moment you’ll grieve when sent to hell.

Negligence is always dust; dust follows right behind negligence. Through diligence and knowledge, pluck out the dart from yourself.

“Does familiarity breed contempt, even for the man of wisdom? Do you honor he who holds aloft the torch for all humanity?”

“Familiarity breeds no contempt for the man of wisdom. I always honor he who holds aloft the torch for all humanity.”

“One who’s given up the five sensual stimulations, so pleasing and delightful, and who’s left the home life out of faith— let them make an end to suffering!

Mix with spiritual friends, stay in remote lodgings, secluded and quiet, and eat in moderation.

Robes, almsfood, requisites and lodgings: don’t crave such things; don’t come back to this world again.

Be restrained in the monastic code and the five sense faculties. With mindfulness immersed in the body, be full of disillusionment.

Turn away from the sign that’s attractive, provoking lust. With mind unified and serene, meditate on the ugly aspects of the body.

Meditate on the signless, give up the tendency to conceit; and when you comprehend conceit, you will live at peace.”

That is how the Buddha regularly advised Venerable Rāhula with these verses.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Āḷavī, at Āḷavī’s premier shrine. Now at that time it was not long after Venerable Vaṅgīsa’s mentor, the senior monk named Nigrodhakappa, had become fully quenched. Then as Vaṅgīsa was in private retreat this thought came to his mind: “Has my mentor become quenched or not?” Then in the late afternoon, Venerable Vaṅgīsa came out of retreat and went to the Buddha. He bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him: “Just now, sir, as I was in private retreat this thought came to mind. ‘Has my mentor become quenched or not?’” Then Venerable Vaṅgīsa rose from his seat, arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his cupped palms toward the Buddha, and addressed him in verse:

“I ask the Teacher unrivaled in wisdom, who has cut off all doubts in this very life: a monk has died at Āḷavī’s premier shrine, who was well-known, famous, and quenched.

Nigrodhakappa was his name; it was given to that brahmin by you, Blessed One. He wandered in your honor, yearning for freedom, energetic, a resolute Seer of Truth.

O Sakyan, All-seer, we all wish to know about that disciple. Our ears are eager to hear, for you are the most excellent teacher.

Cut off our doubt, declare this to us; your wisdom is vast, tell us of his quenching! All-seer, speak among us, like the thousand-eyed Sakka <j>in the midst of the gods!

Whatever ties there are, or paths to delusion, or things on the side of unknowing, <j>or that are bases of doubt vanish on reaching a Realized One, for his eye is the best of all people’s.

If no man were ever to disperse corruptions, like the wind dispersing the stormclouds, darkness would shroud the whole world; not even brilliant men would shine.

The attentive are bringers of light; my hero, that is what I think of you. We’ve come for your discernment and knowledge: here in this assembly, declare to us about Kappāyana.

Swiftly send forth your sweet, sweet voice, like a goose stretching its neck, gently honking, lucid-flowing, with lovely tone: alert, we all listen to you.

You have entirely abandoned birth and death; curbed and pure, I urge you, speak the Dhamma! For ordinary people <j>have no wish-granter, but Realized Ones <j>have a comprehensibility-granter.

Your answer is definitive, and we will adopt it, for you have perfect understanding. We raise our cupped palms one last time, one of unrivaled wisdom, <j>don’t deliberately confuse us.

Knowing the teaching of the noble ones <j>from top to bottom, one of unrivaled energy, <j>don’t deliberately confuse us. As a man baking in the summer sun <j>would long for water, I long for your voice, so let the sound rain forth.

Surely Kappāyana did not <j>lead the spiritual life in vain? Did he realize quenching, or did he still have a residue? Let us hear what kind of liberation he had!”

“He cut off craving for name and form right here,” said the Buddha, “the river of darkness that had long lain within him. He has entirely crossed over birth and death.” So declared the Blessed One, the leader of the five.

“Now that I have heard your words, seventh of seers, I am confident. My question, it seems, was not in vain, the brahmin did not deceive me.

As he said, so he did— he was a disciple of the Buddha. He cut the net of death the deceiver, so extended and strong.

Blessed One, Kappāyana saw the starting point of grasping. He has indeed gone far beyond Death’s dominion so hard to pass.”

“I ask the sage abounding in wisdom— crossed-over, gone beyond, quenched, steadfast: when a mendicant has left home, <j>casting aside sensuality, what’s the right way to wander the world?”

“When they’ve eradicated superstitions,” said the Buddha, “about celestial portents, dreams, or bodily marks; with the stain of superstitions left behind, they’d rightly wander the world.

A mendicant ought dispel desire for pleasures human or heavenly; with rebirth transcended and truth comprehended, they’d rightly wander the world.

Putting backbiting behind them, a mendicant gives up anger and stinginess; with favoring and opposing left behind, they’d rightly wander the world.

When the loved and the unloved are both left behind, not grasping or dependent on anything; freed from all things that fetter, they’d rightly wander the world.

Finding no core in attachments, rid of desire for things they’ve acquired, independent, needing no one to guide them, they’d rightly wander the world.

Not hostile in speech, mind, or deed, they’ve rightly understood the teaching. Aspiring to the state of extinguishment, they’d rightly wander the world.

Not gloating that, ‘they bow to me’; though reviled, they’d still stay in touch; not besotted when getting food from others, they’d rightly wander the world.

When greed and craving to live again are cast off, a mendicant refrains from violence and abduction; rid of indecision, free of thorns, they’d rightly wander the world.

Knowing what is suitable for themselves, a mendicant would hurt no one in the world; understanding the teaching in line with the truth, they’d rightly wander the world.

They have no underlying tendencies at all, and are rid of unskillful roots; free of hope, with no need for hope, they’d rightly wander the world.