Translated by Śramaṇa Lokakṣema from Yuezhi Country of the Later Han Dynasty
(One)
Long ago there was a bhikṣu, intelligent and wise. When his illness became critical, a disciple asked him: “Have you attained Arhatship?” He replied: “No, nor have I attained the fruit of non-returning.” The disciple asked: “The venerable master’s Dharma path is lofty and exalted, his fame spreads far and wide—why have you not become an Arhat?” The master said: “I have attained the fruit of once-returning, but have not yet reached the other two fruits” The disciple asked: “Having attained the fruit of once-returning, for what reason have you not attained Arhatship?” The bhikṣu answered: “I wish to behold the three great Dharma assemblies during the time of Maitreya Buddha. At that time, two hundred eighty koṭis of people will attain Arhatship, while those attaining Bodhisattvahood will be beyond calculation. Maitreya Tathāgata’s body will be majestic, sixteen thousand feet in height. All beings in his land will have faces like peach blossoms, and people will live for eighty-four thousand years. That land will be level and even, with clothing and food appearing spontaneously. The continent of Jambudvīpa will measure one hundred thousand miles in both length and breadth. I wish to see these things, therefore I have not taken Arhatship. When Maitreya attains Buddhahood, he will have two eminent disciples: the first named Various Givings, the second named Frequent Givings. I also wish to see them and observe how they compare to myself.” The disciple again asked: “From where did you learn of these circumstances?” The master answered: “I heard of them in the Buddhist sūtras.” The disciple said: “The cycle of birth and death involves toil and suffering—does Maitreya possess some extraordinary Dharma that you should wait for him?” The master answered: “There is no extraordinary Dharma.” “The six pāramitās, four means of embracing beings, four kindnesses, and four noble truths—are these any different with Maitreya Buddha?” The master answered: “They are not different.” The disciple said: “If they are identical, without distinction between one and another, why wait? Now you deeply receive the Buddha’s kindness, yet turn to take refuge in Maitreya! Better to attain liberation now—do not wait for him.” The master said: “Enough! You go out first—I must consider this well.” The disciple had just gone out, not yet beyond the doorway, when the master had already become an Arhat. The disciple returned and asked: “How is it?” The master said: “Already became an Arhat.” The disciple bowed and said: “In a mere instant, you have attained Arhatship!”
(Two)
Long ago there was a bhikṣu who, while seated in meditate concentration, remained unharmed when wildfire arose. Others who saw him thought they beheld a ghost and struck him with blades, yet the knives broke without piercing him. This occurred because his concentrated mind was singularly focused, thus blades could not enter; because his body was supple, thus fire could not burn him. Another man entered samādhi, and when a disciple called him for food, he did not hear. The disciple therefore pulled his arm, which stretched over one hundred feet long. Terrified, the disciple tied his arm in a knot; then fearing the knot might not return to its original form, he untied it. When the master emerged from samādhi, he felt great pain in his arm. Questioning his disciple, he was told what had transpired. The master said: “You should have known to awaken me. Now you broke my arm. When one is in concentration, the body is soft as cotton wool, just as in the mother’s womb.”
(Three)
Long ago in the land of Jibin there was a Bodhisattva. When he was born and fell to the ground, the earth shook greatly, and his parents were startled. At that time there was an Arhat who went to bow down with his head to the ground, carrying a flower-canopy as an offering, scattering it upon him. Later, when the child grew up, he left home and became a renunciant. He was wise and intelligent, yet unrestrained and undisciplined, not respecting the rules of Dharma. However, he was able to cause all who listened to his discourse on Dharma to obtain the Dharma of the Buddha.
At that time there were two men who together became bhikṣus, who in a monastery upheld the precepts and cultivated for many years, their conduct upright and pure, yet they could not awaken to the Dharma. A deva told them: “In that country there is a bhikṣu who teaches and transforms, saving and liberating many people.” The two then went to that country and requested to take refuge.
At that time that bhikṣu was secretly engaged in intercourse with a prostitute. The two sought to see him. One of them first went in, bowed in respect, then withdrew and sat down. The prostitute deliberately lay there, extremely beautiful, with no one in the world who could equal her. Yet he concentrated on listening to the discourse, without any mixed or scattered thought, and at once realized awakening to the Dharma. Having bowed in respect, he came out, and then let the other bhikṣu go in. He bowed, greeted, and sat down to listen to the discourse. Seeing the prostitute lying there, he thought: “This person is filthy and shameless, his conduct not good. I came all this way in vain, with much hardship.” Then he left.
The first bhikṣu asked him: “Why are you so sorrowful, saying he has wrong views?” The other bhikṣu replied: “This is delaying and obstructing us. From far away, with toil and weariness, we came here to learn from this defiled, unrestrained person.” The first bhikṣu said: “You are greatly mistaken. The Dharma principle of an ascetic is only to rectify mind and rectify thought, and to listen to the explanation of wisdom. How could one pay heed to whether the expounder is right or wrong, give rise to evil thoughts, and let oneself gain nothing at all?” The other bhikṣu immediately straightened his mind and intent, and together they went in to listen to the discourse. At last he awakened to the Dharma, and likewise attained the fruit of Arhatship. Their master set forth a banquet to entertain them, and afterward they returned to their own country.
Later this master presided over a Buddhist temple. He greatly used the things of the temple, and committed adultery with the prostitute, excessively indulging in play and pleasure. The assembly of monks deliberated to expel him. An Arhat said: “Do not expel him yet. Although he uses the temple’s things, still he can save and liberate many people.” Thus they did not expel him.
Those close to the master told him: “You can go to your former disciples and ask from them, so that you may repay the common property.” The master then went to the country where his disciples dwelled, obtained many treasures, and after returning repaid the community of monks twofold.
(Four)
Long ago there was a virtuous man who practiced the Dharma, diligently and with effort. He fell ill and suddenly died. His wife and child cried and wept without ceasing, believing there was no possibility of his ever returning to life. After the cremation, they gathered the ashes and buried them. Once the burial was finished, they no longer recited sūtras, no longer cultivated, no longer burned incense, and no longer made offerings to the Buddha. His household had much wealth. At the beginning and at the end of each month, they slaughtered livestock, cooked food, and went to the grave to offer sacrifice. They wept and wailed, their bowels torn with grief, lamenting with such sorrow that they seemed to die and live again.
Because of the merit from upholding precepts, the deceased was finally reborn in the heavens. With the heavenly eye he looked afar and saw them. He pitied them, and he mocked them for being extremely foolish. Then he transformed into a boy, tending cattle at their side. The cow suddenly died, and the boy cried loudly without end. He cut grass and placed it before the cow for it to eat, and he struck the cow, calling it to rise. He cried to the cow, he struck himself, and in this way he tormented himself for a whole day. Everyone was astonished, laughed at him, and together reproached him, saying: “Whose child is this? When a cow dies, one should report it to the family. What benefit is there in crying? If the cow has died, how could it know?” The boy said: “I am not foolish. The cow has died, but its body is still here. There is still hope that it might come back to life. But your father has long since died. Though you prepare a hundred kinds of food, weep and cry together, those charred bones—what could they possibly know?” When the crowd heard this, they at once came to understanding. The boy said: “I was formerly your father. By the grace of the Buddha I have been reborn in the heavens. Now I have come to open and resolve your delusion.” Then he manifested the form of a deva, saying: “If you wish to be as I am, you must diligently cultivate and make offerings to the Three Jewels.” Having spoken, he suddenly disappeared. His wife, child, and relatives of the same clan and of other clans returned and diligently cultivated, upheld the precepts, practiced good deeds, engaged in much giving, rescued and relieved sentient beings, and no longer gave rise to sorrow. They all attained the Way, and at the same time were reborn in the heavens.
(Five)
In the great ocean there was a certain country named Simhala, which produced precious jewels, but alone lacked crystallised sugar. At that time there was a merchant who brought more than five hundred carts of crystallised sugar there, wishing to offer it to the king, thinking that the recompense he would receive would surely surpass what he could gain by selling it in the market. Thus he placed the crystallised sugar before the palace gate, carrying out his plan. For a full month no one paid any attention. He became angry, saying: “That king is also a man, and I too am a man. With eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, the four great faculties complete, yet I cannot even see him once, nor speak a single word with him. What is the reason for this? It is because the king’s fortune and merit surpass those of ordinary men. I too should establish merit, so that the king will come of his own accord to take refuge with me.”
Then he left the palace and became a śramaṇa. He offered the crystallised sugar to the Three Jewels, found a quiet place, and contemplated the principles of suffering, emptiness, and non-self. Before he had even used half of the crystallised sugar, he had already awakened, free of all hindrance, attaining the six supernormal powers, able to dwell fixed in one place without being moved, becoming an Arhat. This event shook the earth. Śakra, Lord of the Devas, and all the devas immediately came to offer their regards. At that time Śakra and the host of devas descended to the human realm to bow to him and rejoice for him.
The bhikṣu asked Śakra: “What do you do in the heavens?” Śakra answered: “In the heavens there are four pleasure-gardens. Three of them are places where the five desires flourish, and one is a place for those of virtue, where either they discuss the sūtras and canonical texts of the Buddha, or they discuss and review the bhikṣus, bhikṣuṇīs, laymen, and laywomen who diligently cultivate the Dharma of the Buddha.” The bhikṣu said: “When you discuss those who cultivate the Dharma, is it all the same, or are there depths and shallows?” Śakra said: “With impartiality we review the virtuous. Since the Tathāgata entered parinirvāṇa, the devas have never ceased to discuss three people.” The bhikṣu asked: “Who are these people? May the Lord of Devas speak of them one by one.”
Śakra said: “In the land of Benares there was once a man who became a śramaṇa. He made a vow, saying: ‘I shall certainly continue walking meditation without stopping. If I do not attain the fruit of Arhatship, I will never lie down to rest.’ Thus he walked day and night, wearing through his feet, bleeding without end, with hundreds of birds pursuing and eating his blood. After three years he finally attained the Way. All the devas observed and praised him, and none failed to honor him. There was another man in the land of Rājagṛha, also a śramaṇa. He spread grass as a mat and sat upon it, vowing: ‘If I do not attain the Way, I shall not rise.’ But when sleepiness attacked him, he desired sleep. He had someone make an awl of eight inches in length. When drowsiness came upon him, he pierced his legs, and through the pain of the wound he drove away sleepiness. Within one year he attained the fruit of Arhatship. The devas also praised this as something never before seen. A third man lived in the land of Kauśāmbī, also a śramaṇa. He dwelled in a rocky house amid perilous mountains, where no one could come. At that time Māra Papīyān saw that he was diligent and striving, and transformed into a water buffalo. In front of the bhikṣu he snorted through his nose, glared with his eyes, and gored with his horns. The bhikṣu was very afraid. He thought: ‘A buffalo could never come here. How could there be a buffalo? Could it be the work of Māra?’ Then he admonished: ‘Are you a demon transformed to do harm?’ Māra, fearing exposure, resumed his true form. The bhikṣu said to Māra: ‘You terrify me. What do you seek?’ Māra said: ‘I saw you diligently cultivating with hardship, and I feared you would drive me away, so I sought to terrify you.’ The bhikṣu said: ‘The reason I became a śramaṇa was to be delivered from the human realm. The Buddha had thirty-two marks of a great man and eighty minor excellent signs. Therefore I wish to see him. Now the Buddha has already passed away, and it is not possible to see him. I have heard that you can transform into the body of the Buddha. Please manifest his form before me, and then I will cease diligent cultivation.’ Māra believed him and transformed into the Buddha, standing before him. The bhikṣu contemplated and at once realized the fruit of Arhatship. The devas in the sky praised his virtuous practice as boundless. Māra, regretful, instantly vanished and departed.”
Śakra told the bhikṣu: “Those three whom the devas praised have not ceased to be praised even now.” The bhikṣu said to Śakra: “Those three understood the principles of suffering and emptiness, and therefore disregarded the suffering of the body. I originally had no intention to cultivate, but because I was looked down upon, I sought the Way, and finally I transcended the three realms. My experience was also wondrous, and I too attained the fruit of Arhatship.” The devas declared: “Now we shall return to the heavens, recognizing you as foremost among us.” Then the devas bowed and departed. At this time the king heard that the merchant who sold crystallised sugar had diligently practiced and attained the Way, and so he came to bow and confess his faults. He then installed him as national teacher, caused the Three Jewels to flourish, and thereby brought peace to the country. The blessings attained and the beings who were saved and delivered were beyond number.
(Six)
Long ago there was a sick man whom all the physicians could not cure. He then went to rely upon the king. The king’s name was Sarva-Dāna. That man, with his body, took refuge in the king, saying: “Compassionate one, I hope you will cure my illness.” The king immediately handed the sick man over to the physicians, commanding them to heal his illness. The physicians reported to the king: “We cannot obtain the medicine that accords with the illness.” The king asked the physicians: “What is the name of the medicine?” The physicians replied: “With the flesh of a ‘man without the five poisons’ made into soup, if the sick man drinks it, the illness will be cured. What is a ‘man without the five poisons’? First, this person has no mind of lust and greed; second, this person has no mind of anger and hatred; third, this person has no mind of ignorance; fourth, this person has no mind of envy; fifth, this person has no mind of harshness and cruelty. If such a person is found, the illness can be healed.” The king told the physicians: “This person has come to rely upon me. Only I am without these five poisons.” Having spoken, he cut flesh from his own body and gave it for the sick man’s soup-medicine. The sick man drank the soup-medicine, was healed, and at once gave rise to the mind of Mahāyāna.
(Seven)
Long ago there was a kulapati who constantly wished to see Mañjuśrī. The kulapati then made great giving, and prepared a high seat. At that time there was an old man, whose appearance was extremely ugly, with eyes full of rheum, with snot flowing from his nose, and with saliva flowing from his mouth. The kulapati saw him sit upon the high seat and thought to himself: “Today the high seat I have set forth is fitting only for a high ascetic of the Way. Who are you?” Then he pulled and dragged him down to the ground. After the giving was finished, the kulapati went to a Buddhist temple to burn lamps and incense, placing the lamps and incense in the temple, saying: “With such giving and offering as I cultivate, in this very life I shall see Mañjuśrī.” Then he returned home. Because of excessive fatigue he fell down asleep. In his dream someone said to him: “You wish to see Mañjuśrī, but when you saw him you did not recognize him. The old man who earlier sat upon the high seat was Mañjuśrī. Yet you dragged him down to the ground. This happened again and again seven times. Seeing him but not recognizing—how can you ever see Mañjuśrī?”
If there is anyone who seeks the Bodhisattva Path, he should treat all people with an equal mind. For those who seek the Bodhisattva Path, Mañjuśrī will indeed come to test them. One should comprehend the profound meaning within this.
(Eight)
This is a parable to a household that encounters death: There was a great tree, and its fruit was as large as a two-litre vessel. When its fruit had nearly ripened, a crow flew there and perched upon its branch. Just as it alighted on the tree, a fruit fell upon the crow’s head and killed it. The spirit of the tree, seeing this, uttered a verse:
The crow flew here not seeking death, the falling fruit was not because of the crow;
The fruit ripened, the crow was bound to die, conditions combined, the nature was thus.
When people live in the world, the recompense of sin and blessing must sooner or later come to fulfillment, and there is no way to avoid it. The wise, when they suffer punishment for their sins, do not resent; when they receive blessings, they do not rejoice. In this way they truly believe in the teaching of the Buddha, and persist without departing from it. Within the three realms, there are in all ninety-six kinds of non-Buddhist paths. People of the world each revere them, hoping that spirits will grant them blessings. These petty and trivial paths do not even know what blessings are—how could they possibly have merit? The reason it is thus is because they do not recognize the holy brilliance of the Three Jewels, they do not uphold the pure genuineness of the five precepts, they do not have the profound vision of the Noble Eightfold Path—how then could they aid and save people? Therefore they are called barren fields.
(Nine)
If there is anyone who can revere the Three Honored Ones and clearly perceive the three times, who knows the blessings of heaven and knows the sufferings of hell, who sincerely believes in the Three Jewels and blocks the three evil destinies, who increases the power of wisdom to dispel the ignorance of the three realms, who cultivates the pure water of the six faculties to wash away the defilements of the six sense-objects—such a one is able to look lightly upon wealth, to diminish the wasting of himself, to give to others however much he himself eats, thereby establishing the foundation for the future life. Giving away a single portion gains ten thousand times return; when the fruit of recompense arrives, it is as swift as a sound. Therefore it is said: “The Great Way is the fertile field of blessings for the beings of the three times.” How is this known? Long ago in a former life of King Aśoka, when he was a child, he met the Buddha upon the road. Overcome with joy, he lifted a little dust and earth and sincerely offered it to the Buddha. Because of this slight merit, he became a holy king, ruling sixteen great kingdoms, governing a territory one hundred thousand miles in extent. From this it can be known that the Buddha is the supreme fertile field for seeking blessings and virtue.
Long ago the Buddha’s younger brother Nanda was originally a man in the time of the Buddha Vipaśyin. He built a warm chamber for the monks to bathe, and naturally obtained merit. Later he was reborn into the Śākya clan, possessing thirty of the marks of a great man, and his countenance shone with a golden radiance. By virtue of past blessings he was able to live in the same age as the Buddha, and in the Way-place he diligently strove and attained the six supernormal powers. Ancient men, when they gave only a little, still received vast recompense. How much more so those donors of today who can practice giving greatly? Universal and equal giving must certainly result in receiving honorific titles, in increase of joy, and in the universal deliverance of beings.
(Ten)
The Buddha said: “The consciousness of spirit, polluted by afflictions and delusions, passes through innumerable kalpas without perishing, enduring the burning of birth and death until attaining the Way, then it ceases.”
Long ago, in the five hundred and tenth year after the parinirvāṇa of the Buddha, there was a certain king, diligent and courageous, rare in the world. He made offerings to sixty thousand śramaṇas, providing vegetarian meals for three months. At one time he supplied delicious food and drink, exhausting the rare flavors of the world. The highest-seated ascetic cited various scriptures, knew the ancient and understood the present, and attained the fruit of Arhatship.
Eastward from this country, two hundred miles away, there was another king who made offerings to five hundred Brahmins, also supplying all the exquisite flavors of the world. He made more than one hundred banners, adorned with silken cloth, gold, and jewels. One banner was worth five hundred taels of gold. With such music and entertainment he delighted them. Whoever could perform skills or arts received a banner as a prize. Poor men from many countries, hearing that this king possessed such treasures, gathered there from all directions, five hundred in all. They passed by a monastery and each learned an art, desiring to obtain that treasure. Along the way their provisions ran out, and they could not endure. They went to the high ascetic to request to become śramaṇas.
The high ascetic observed them, and knew they had once been the household slaves of a layman in the time of the Buddha Vipaśyin. Then they had cooked food for the monks and had also heard the Dharma. From that time they were reborn in heavens and among men, enjoying natural blessings. Today their blessings were exhausted, yet the Dharma remained in their minds. Such people could be delivered. He then shaved off their beards and hair, conferred upon them the precepts, and brought them into the king’s palace to eat the vegetarian meals. They returned all greatly rejoicing. The master, knowing their thoughts, said to them: “Such food must not be eaten in vain. If men eat this food without utmost sincerity, for countless lives they will serve the king as oxen and horses, slaves and servants.”
The five hundred newly ordained bhikṣus, hearing this, were afraid, and set their will upon diligence. After ninety days, they all attained the fruit of Arhatship.
The bhikṣus, having attained the Way, each wished to tell of the cause of their attainment. They went running and shouting, entering the gates of the palace, saying: “Come wrestle with me! The three poisons, the twelve links of dependent arising, the five aggregates, the six sense-objects—I have subdued them all. Who can oppose me?” Those present were all astonished and said: “What words are these?” The bhikṣus said: “We learned arts and skills intending to obtain those treasures to support our bodies, but later we became śramaṇas, and in the end Arhats. We have extinguished the various demons of the three realms. By the kindness of the master, our joy is boundless.”
(Eleven)
Long ago there were two brothers living together. Their power was great, their wealth and honor abundant, their possessions without number. When their parents died, they had no one to rely upon. Though they were brothers, their aims were different. The elder brother esteemed cultivation of the Way, while the younger brother loved household affairs, official rank, stipend, and salary, being greedy and attached to glory, splendor, and wealth.
They lived near the Cock-Crowing Monastery in the city of Pāṭaliputra. The elder brother concentrated upon study, sought out and received the Dharma of the Buddha, and did not take part in the management of household affairs. The younger brother, seeing his elder not caring for the household, often complained: “We are brothers together, our parents having long since died. You do not manage the household with diligence and thrift, but instead abandon the family estate, chasing after śramaṇas, hearing and receiving Buddhist sūtras. Can śramaṇas give you clothing and food, wealth and treasure? This household grows poorer by the day, our possessions consumed more and more, people mock us, saying we are lazy and have wasted the family estate, that our household is about to be extinguished. Whoever is a son of man ought to establish merit and achievement, continue the estate of the parents, and not let it go to waste—this is what is called a filial son.”
The elder brother answered him, saying: “To uphold the five precepts and the ten good deeds, to make offerings to the Three Jewels of Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha, to practice the six perfections, to sit in meditation and enter concentration, and to use the Dharma of the Buddha to transform and teach one’s kin—this is what is filial. The Dharma of the Buddha is opposite to the ways of the world—it is naturally so. What the Dharma of the Buddha takes as joy, the world takes as evil; what the world takes as precious, the Dharma of the Buddha takes as lowly. The wise and the foolish think differently, just as light and darkness cannot dwell together. Therefore the wise abandon darkness and turn toward light, awakening to the truth of the Dharma of the Buddha. That which you now take delight in is precisely what now afflicts me. All things are empty and vain, false and unreal; to be deluded, thinking things are truly existent, how could one not toil in suffering?”
His younger brother harbored anger, twisting his head aside, not believing such words. The elder brother, seeing this, said to him: “You cling to worldly household affairs, taking wealth as precious. I delight in the Dharma of the Buddha, taking wisdom as precious. I now wish to abandon the household estate and take refuge in the Buddha’s gate. Consider how a man’s lodging in the world is like floating dust in the air. Death comes suddenly, yet one is entangled by sins. Therefore one must cast away the world, abandon danger, and seek peace.” The younger brother, seeing that his elder’s heart and will were set upon the Way, became silent without words. The elder then left home and became a śramaṇa. Day and night he was diligent and unrelenting, reciting sūtras and invoking the Buddha, sitting in meditation with one mind, contemplating principle and meaning, never once neglectful, and soon he possessed the five roots, the five powers, and the thirty-seven factors of the Path. His conduct accorded with the Sūtra and Dharma, and he attained the Way and realized the fruit.
He came to where his younger brother lived and exhorted him to take refuge in the Dharma of the Buddha: “The five precepts and ten good deeds are the root of being reborn in the heavens; giving and study of the sūtras are the foundation of the wisdom of the Dharma of the Buddha.” His younger brother, hearing this, grew even more resentful and answered: “You yourself ought to stop. You do not care for the household, destroying the name of the family and its gate. You may go on like this yourself. Go quickly, and no longer teach me.” The elder brother had no choice but to leave him.
The younger brother clung to the family estate, zealously devoted to it, unable to cease, never once using the Dharma of the Buddha to quiet his own mind. After death he was reborn as a bull, his body very fat and large. A merchant purchased him, and had him carry loads of salt to sell, going back and forth many times. The bull gradually grew thin and weak, unable to go forward on the road, struggling on slopes, lying down and unable to rise. The merchant whipped him, but he only shook his head and moved slightly.
At that time the elder brother was traveling abroad, flying in the sky. From afar he saw this scene, and thought: “What is this matter?” Then he observed and saw the origin and end of the matter, knowing that this bull was his younger brother. He said to him: “Younger brother! The house you dwelt in, the many fields you cultivated, and all that you clung to—where are they now? You have been reborn as a bull, fallen into the animal realm!” Immediately with divine power he revealed the bull’s former life. The bull at once became aware of it all, and tears flowed from his eyes. He reproached himself, saying: “Formerly I acted without goodness, miserly, greedy, envious, not believing the Dharma, slighting the Saṅgha, indulging my desires as I pleased, not heeding my elder brother’s words, opposing the teaching of holy wisdom, obstinate and self-willed. Therefore I have been reborn as a bull, weary and in distress, regretting beyond measure.”
The elder brother, knowing his wish, felt deep sorrow, and told the bull’s owner of the beginning and end of the matter: “This bull was my younger brother. Because he did not believe in the Three Honored Ones, violated truth, revered falsehood, was miserly, envious, indulgent, greedy without end, not practicing giving, he was reborn as a bull, thin and distressed, pitiable and sorrowful. Now he is old, exhausted, and useless. I hope you will give him to me, that I may deliver his remaining life.” The merchant, hearing this, then gave the bull to him. The elder brother led the bull back to the monastery, taught the bull to recite the Three Jewels, fed him regularly, and when the bull died, he was reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven.
At that time the merchants each thought to themselves: “We labor with toil, seeking profit and livelihood, knowing no satisfaction; we do not practice giving, nor believe in the Dharma, nor understand righteousness. After death we fear we too will become like this.” Thus they all left their homes together, abandoning wives and children, abandoning precious things, leaving home to become śramaṇas. They strove diligently without rest, and they all attained the Way. From this it is seen that the treasures of the world are of no benefit to man. To revere the Three Honored Ones, to cultivate the body and nourish wisdom, to study broadly and know widely, to practice the Dharma—this can bring peace through all lives.
(Twelve)
Long ago in the land of Śrāvastī there was a poor household. In their courtyard there was a grapevine, bearing many grapes. The household then wished to give it as alms to ascetics. During that time, the king had first invited ascetics to eat vegetarian meals for one month. This household was poor and their influence did not compare with that of the king. They could only vow in vain for a whole month, until at last they saw an ascetic, and then gave the grapes to him, saying to the ascetic: “I have wished to give these grapes for a whole month. Today I have fulfilled my wish.” The ascetic said to this upāsikā: “You have already given for one month.” The upāsikā said: “I just gave you a cluster of grapes—how is it that I have already given for a month?” The ascetic said: “For the whole month, your heart was constantly thinking of giving. That itself was giving for one month.”
There are seventeen matters which are very difficult to accomplish in the world of men. The first is that being born in the age when the Buddha is in the world is difficult. The second is that even if the age is when the Buddha is in the world, to be born as a human being is difficult. The third is that even if one is born as a human being, to be born in the Central Land is difficult. The fourth is that even if one is born in the Central Land, to be born in a great family of high caste is difficult. The fifth is that even if one is born in a great family of high caste, to have all four limbs, six faculties, and features complete is difficult. The sixth is that even if one’s four limbs, six faculties, and features are complete, to have wealth is difficult. The seventh is that even if one has wealth, to encounter a good and wise teacher is difficult. The eighth is that even if one encounters a good and wise teacher, to have wisdom is difficult. The ninth is that even if one has wisdom, to have a good heart is difficult. The tenth is that even if one has a good heart, to be able to give is difficult. The eleventh is that even if one can give, to find a virtuous, wise, and good person is difficult. The twelfth is that even if one finds a virtuous, wise, and good person, to arrive at his dwelling place is difficult. The thirteenth is that even if one arrives at his dwelling place, to find the suitable occasion is difficult. The fourteenth is that even if there is the suitable occasion, to hear the discourse and to ask questions both at the proper time is difficult. The fifteenth is that even if it is at the proper time, to awaken and comprehend his wisdom is difficult. The sixteenth is that even if one awakens and comprehends his wisdom, to accept the various profound scriptures is difficult. The seventeenth is that even if one can accept the various profound scriptures, to practice according to the scriptures and attain the Way is difficult. These are the seventeen difficult matters.
Dharma Torch 