Translated by śramaṇas Hui Jue etc. from Liangzhou of the Yuan Wei Dynasty in Gaochang Commandery
Section Eight: Vajra, the Daughter of King Prasenajit
Thus have I heard:
At one time the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, in the Jeta Grove, the Garden of Anāthapiṇḍada. At that time King Prasenajit’s chief consort, Mallikā, bore a daughter named Vajra (in the language of Jin means “Diamond”). This daughter was exceedingly ugly in appearance, her skin coarse and rough like the hide of a camel, and her hair thick and hard like the tail of a horse.
When the king saw this daughter he took no delight in her and commanded the palace attendants to guard her strictly, so that no outsiders should see her. Why was this so? Though the girl was deformed and hideous beyond human likeness, yet because she was the child of Queen Mallikā, she must, though ugly, still be secretly raised and protected.
When the daughter reached the age to be married, the king became deeply troubled. With no other recourse, he ordered his ministers: “Go and find a man of noble family, once wealthy but now poor, and bring him here.” The officials, following the king’s command, found a young man of high lineage who had fallen into poverty and brought him before the king.
The king, having obtained this man, took him to a secluded place and spoke truthfully: “I have a daughter, deformed in appearance, and I wish to give her in marriage, yet I have found no suitable match. I hear that you are of noble birth, though now in poverty. I would marry her to you. If you are willing, accept this charge.” The nobleman’s son knelt and said to the king: “I respectfully receive the king’s command. If the king gave me a dog, I would accept it; how much more the king’s own daughter! If today the king bestows her upon me, I will obey and accept.”
The king then gave his daughter to this man as wife and built for them a palace and dwelling, surrounded with sevenfold gates and towers. The king commanded his son-in-law: “You must hold the keys to the gates yourself. If you go outside, shut the gates firmly. My daughter’s ugliness is without peer in all the world. Do not allow anyone to see her form.” Thus the son-in-law, as the king had commanded, always kept the gates closed and confined his wife within.
The king supplied his son-in-law with abundant wealth, leaving him wanting nothing, and granted him the office of minister. Thus his possessions grew day by day, and he often joined the feasts of the noble clans, each month taking turns to host banquets. On such occasions husbands and wives gathered together in merriment, but this minister always came alone. Others were puzzled and suspicious, saying among themselves: “This man’s wife must be either extraordinarily beautiful, shining like a jewel, or else unspeakably ugly and unfit to be seen. That is why he never brings her. We should devise a plan to see her.” So they conspired together in secret: “We will ply him with wine until he is drunk, take the keys from him, and then five of us will go to his house and open the gate.”
While they plotted thus, the king’s daughter, Vajra, was filled with sorrow and self-reproach, saying to herself: “What sins have I committed, that I am despised by my husband, confined in darkness, shut away from the light of day and from all people?” Then she thought again: “Now the Buddha is in the world, bringing aid and salvation to beings. All who suffer distress may receive his deliverance.” So with utmost sincerity she bowed in the direction of the World-Honored One and prayed: “May the World-Honored One show mercy and compassion, come to me, and grant me teaching and guidance.”
Because of her deep faith and devotion, the Buddha knew her thought. The Buddha came to her house and from the ground before her appeared, first manifesting his hair, blue-black and lustrous, for Vajra to see. She lifted her eyes and beheld the Buddha’s hair, and her heart was filled with joy. From joy arose reverence, and from shallow reverence it grew to deep devotion. At once her coarse hair became soft and fine, blue-black like the Buddha’s. Then the Buddha revealed his face; Vajra beheld it, and with delight her own face became comely and pure, her coarse skin and deformed features vanishing away. Then the Buddha revealed his form down to the waist, shining forth with light; Vajra beheld him, and her joy increased still more. By the power of that joy her entire body was transformed, upright and beautiful, like a celestial maiden, wondrous beyond compare. The Buddha, out of pity for her, fully revealed his form before her. Vajra gazed upon him without turning away, leaping with joy beyond control. Her whole form at once became pure and beautiful, rare in the world, all her ugliness gone without trace.
The Buddha then expounded the Dharma to her, and her evil thoughts and evil deeds were removed. In that very moment she attained the fruit of Srotāpanna. Having thus obtained the Way, Vajra beheld the Buddha vanish.”
At that time the five men opened the gate and entered. They saw the maiden of stately grace and wondrous beauty, peerless in all the world. They said among themselves: “No wonder this man never brings his wife to the feasts! His wife is of unsurpassed beauty, and that is why he acts thus.” Having looked upon her, they shut the door again, returned the keys to the waist of her drunken husband, and went away.
When the man awoke from his drunkenness, the gathering had already ended. He returned home, entered the gate, and saw a woman of wondrous grace, her beauty so radiant that none could rival her. He joyfully asked: “Who are you?” Vajra answered: “I am your wife.” The husband asked again: “Before you were exceedingly ugly. How is it that now you are so upright and beautiful?” The wife then told him truthfully of what had just occurred: “Because of the Buddha’s grace, I have obtained this comely and beautiful form.” She then said to her husband: “I wish now to see my father the king. You should convey my message.”
The husband did as she said and went to tell the king: “Your daughter now wishes to see you.” The king replied to his son-in-law: “Do not speak of this to me! Quickly shut the gates tightly, and do not let her come out!” The son-in-law replied: “Why should it be so? Your daughter has now received the divine grace of the Buddha; she has become exceedingly upright and beautiful, like a celestial maiden.” The king, hearing this, said: “If it is truly so, quickly bring her here.” He immediately had chariots and horses prepared to welcome his daughter into the palace. When the king saw her upright and exceptional, he leapt with joy, unable to contain himself. At once he ordered chariots and horses to be prepared again, and with the queen, his daughter, and his son-in-law together, he went to the Buddha’s dwelling. Having bowed in homage to the Buddha, they withdrew and stood to one side.
Then King Prasenajit knelt before the Buddha and said: “I do not know by what merit my daughter in former lives was born into a noble and wealthy household, nor by what sin she was punished with so hideous a form, her skin and hair as coarse and hard as that of beasts. I pray the World-Honored One to explain and make clear to us.”
The Buddha said to the great king: “When people are born into this world, whether they are fair or ugly in form is entirely due to the sins or merits of former lives. Long ago, in ages past, there was a great country called Benares. At that time there was a great elder who possessed immeasurable wealth. His household constantly supported a Pratyekabuddha. That Pratyekabuddha’s body was coarse and his appearance exceedingly ugly, withered and pitiable to behold. The elder had a young daughter who, seeing the Pratyekabuddha come day by day, bore dislike in her heart, disdained and neglected him, and spoke harsh words, reviling him as ‘ugly in face, rough in skin, hateful and detestable.’
“That Pratyekabuddha came often to their house, receiving their offerings, and lived long in the world. At last he determined to enter Nirvāṇa. Before doing so, he manifested wondrous transformations for his benefactors: flying in the air, issuing water and fire from his body, rising and sinking in the east, west, south, and north, sitting and lying in midair, performing many transformations. When the family beheld his immeasurable spiritual power, he descended from the sky and returned to their house. The elder rejoiced greatly. At that time his daughter repented in shame, saying: ‘I beseech the venerable one to forgive me. I formerly bore evil thoughts toward you, and my sins are heavy. May you not hold them in mind, may you not cause me to incur guilt.’ The Pratyekabuddha accepted her repentance.”
The Buddha said further to the great king: “That young daughter of long ago is your daughter today. Because she bore malice and lacked goodness, reviling and disparaging the sage Pratyekabuddha with evil speech, she thus committed sins of the mouth and thereafter was often reborn with an ugly form. Yet having seen the Pratyekabuddha’s divine transformations, she awakened remorse, and therefore she was able to obtain upright beauty, wondrous beyond compare. Because her family made offerings to the Pratyekabuddha, she was reborn in noble wealth, and meeting the right conditions, she has also obtained deliverance. Therefore, O King, know that all beings of form should cherish both body and speech, and never with malice disdain or revile others.”
At that time King Prasenajit, his ministers, and all those present, hearing the Buddha speak of the causes and results of karma, gave rise to deep devotion and reverence. Moved profoundly before the Buddha, some attained the first to the fourth fruits of the Path, some set their minds on the unsurpassed true path, and some attained to the stage of non-retrogression. All the assembly, with longing and reverence, honored the Buddha’s teaching. Each rejoiced without limit and faithfully practiced according to the Dharma.
Section Nine: The Karmic Cause of Golden Wealth
Thus have I heard:
At one time the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, in the Jeta Grove, the Garden of Anāthapiṇḍada, together with one thousand two hundred and fifty disciples assembled. At that time there was in the city a great elder. The elder’s wife bore a son, named “Golden Wealth.” This boy was extraordinarily handsome, rare in the world. When he was born, he came forth with clenched fists. The parents were astonished, thinking this inauspicious. They pried open his hands to see whether the signs were good or ill, and behold, in the boy’s palms there were two golden coins. The parents rejoiced and took them. Yet as soon as they were taken, two more appeared in his palms. They took those too, and again two more arose, just as before. In this way they repeatedly gathered them until their storehouses were filled with gold, yet the boy’s hands still yielded an inexhaustible flow of coins. When the boy grew up, he told his parents that he wished to leave home. His parents did not oppose him but allowed him to renounce the household life.
Golden Wealth then went to the Buddha’s abode, bowed with his head at the Buddha’s feet, and said: “World-Honored One, may you show compassion and permit me to go forth, so that I may attain realization.” The Buddha told Golden Wealth: “I permit you to leave home.” Receiving the Buddha’s sanction, Golden Wealth shaved off his hair and beard, donned the kāṣāya, and became a sāmaṇera. When the years as a sāmaṇera were fulfilled, he received the great ordination, taking the full precepts together with the community of monks. As he bowed in turn to the preceptors, each time he prostrated and struck the ground with his palms, at the place his hands touched, two golden coins would appear. Thus at every place of prostration, there appeared coins. After receiving the precepts, he applied himself diligently to the Buddha’s path and in the end attained the fruit of Arhatship.
Ānanda said to the Buddha: “World-Honored One, I do not know what field of merit this bhikṣu in former lives cultivated, such that from his very birth he held money in his hands. May the World-Honored One explain this to us.” The Buddha told Ānanda: “You must attend carefully; I shall now tell you.”
Ānanda said: “Yes, I will listen with care.”
The Buddha said: “Ninety-one kalpas ago there was a Buddha in the world named Vipaśyin, who appeared among men and with the true Dharma taught and transformed the people, delivering beings beyond measure. The Buddha with the Saṅgha of monks traveled through the land. At that time the wealthy and noble set forth offerings of food to the Buddha and the monks. Then there was a poor man, destitute of goods, who always lived by chopping firewood in the mountains and selling it. Just at that time he had sold wood and gained two coins. Seeing the monks receiving royal offerings, he rejoiced greatly and reverence arose in him. With a heart of faith he offered his two coins to the Buddha and the monks. The Buddha, pitying this man, accepted his gift.”
The Buddha told Ānanda: “That poor man who gave two coins to the Buddha and Saṅgha thereby, through ninety-one kalpas, always held money in his hands, his treasure inexhaustible. That poor man of that time is the bhikṣu Golden Wealth of today. Even had he not attained the holy fruit, in the future his reward of wealth would still be without end. Therefore, Ānanda, all beings should make diligent giving their work.”
At that time Ānanda and all those present, having heard the Buddha’s words, understood and believed. Some attained the fruit of Srotāpanna, some the fruit of Sakṛdāgāmin, some the fruit of Anāgāmin, some the fruit of Arhatship; some brought forth the resolve for the unsurpassed true path; some attained to the stage of non-retrogression. All the assembly rejoiced without limit and faithfully practiced in accordance with the teaching.
Section Ten: The Karmic Cause of Flower-Heaven
Thus have I heard:
At one time the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, in the Jeta Grove, the Garden of Anāthapiṇḍada, together with a great assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikṣus. At that time in the country there was a wealthy elder, whose wife bore a son. The child was of upright and handsome appearance. At the time of his birth, a rain of flowers descended from the heavens upon their house, filling the chambers. Therefore they named the boy Puṣpadeva (in the language of Jin means “Flower-Heaven”). When the boy grew up, he went to the Buddha’s abode. Seeing the Buddha’s countenance and form so upright and beautiful, his heart was filled with joy, and he thought to himself: “I have been born into this world with the fortune of encountering the Holy One. Now I should invite the Buddha and the Saṅgha.” So he stepped forward and said to the Buddha: “World-Honored One, may you and the community of monks graciously come tomorrow to my house and accept a humble meal.” Seeing that he had the merit of a joyous opportunity, and knowing his past-life causes, the Buddha at once accepted the invitation. Flower-Heaven then returned home.
On the following day at the mealtime, the Buddha and the Saṅgha went to his house. Flower-Heaven transformed the dwelling into one adorned with jeweled seats, arranging the furnishings in proper order. The Buddha and the monks sat upon the jeweled seats. Then, by the power of Flower-Heaven’s past merits, the various foods he desired to offer were naturally provided. After the Buddha and the Saṅgha had finished the meal and put away their bowls, the Buddha expounded the Dharma. Flower-Heaven together with his entire household, old and young, all attained the fruit of Srotāpanna.
Afterward, Puṣpadeva bade farewell to his parents and asked permission to leave home and become a disciple of the Buddha. His parents consented. Flower-Heaven went to the Buddha’s dwelling, bowed at his feet, and requested to be a bhikṣu, to receive the Buddha’s teaching. The Buddha permitted him to enter the order, saying: “Come, bhikṣu.” At once his hair fell away, and the kāṣāya was upon his body. Thus Flower-Heaven immediately became a śramaṇa. Keeping the precepts, diligently practicing the Dharma, in the end he attained the fruit of Arhatship.
Then Ānanda, having seen this, went to the Buddha, knelt, and said: “World-Honored One, what root of merit did this bhikṣu Flower-Heaven plant in former lives, that at his birth the heavens rained flowers, and that he can transform seats and food as he wishes? May the World-Honored One explain this doubt to me.”
The Buddha told Ānanda: “If you wish to know, then listen well. In the past there was a Buddha named Vipaśyin who appeared in the world to deliver beings. At that time the monks wandered through the villages, and whenever they came to the houses of the wealthy and noble, they were fully provided for. Then there was a poor man who had no wealth. When he saw the monks, his heart rejoiced, but he lamented that he had no means to make offerings. So he went to the fields and gathered many flowers and grasses, which he scattered and offered to the monks. As he did this, he held reverence in his heart and then departed.”
The Buddha told Ānanda: “That poor man who once, with reverent mind, offered flowers to the monks, is none other than this bhikṣu Flower-Heaven. Because in the past he had faith in the Buddha and reverently scattered flowers as an offering, and with sincere aspiration made a vow, through ninety-one kalpas wherever he was reborn he always had an upright and handsome body, and whatever he wished for—food, beds, or other things—would at once arise as he desired. And in the end, by the power of this merit, he attained the Way. Therefore, Ānanda, never should monks belittle even the smallest act of giving, thinking that it brings no reward. From such offerings as Flower-Heaven once made, all these great blessings can be obtained.”
At that time Ānanda and all those present, having heard the Buddha’s words, rejoiced without limit and faithfully practiced in accordance.
Section Eleven: The Karmic Cause of Treasure-Heaven
Thus have I heard:
At one time the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, in the Jeta Grove, the Garden of Anāthapiṇḍada. At that time an elder had a son. When the boy was born, from the sky there rained down the seven precious substances, scattered throughout every corner of the house. The elder summoned an augur to examine the child’s marks. Having looked him over, the augur, seeing his features extraordinary, said to the elder: “Your son’s appearance is most exceptional, not like that of ordinary men.” The elder rejoiced at heart and asked the augur to give him a name. The augur asked: “When this child was born, what auspicious signs were seen?” The elder replied: “At his birth, from the heavens rained down the seven treasures, filling my house.” The augur said: “According to the merit of this child, he should be named Ratnadeva (in the language of Jin means ‘Treasure-Heaven’).”
As the boy grew, he became learned and skilled in many arts. When he heard of the Buddha’s holy name—his great virtue, profound and unsurpassed—his heart yearned with reverence and admiration, and he longed to leave home. He bade farewell to his parents and went to the Buddha’s abode. Bowing with his head at the Buddha’s feet, he said: “World-Honored One, may you permit me to go forth.” The Buddha said: “Come, bhikṣu.” At once his hair fell away, and the Dharma robes clothed him. The Buddha preached the Dharma to him, and he attained the fruit of Arhatship.
Ānanda asked the Buddha: “World-Honored One, by what past merit did this bhikṣu Treasure-Heaven, at his birth, cause the heavens to rain down the seven treasures, and thereafter receive his clothing and food without want?”
“The Buddha told Ānanda: “In the past, when the Buddha Vipaśyin appeared in the world and delivered innumerable beings, the monks traveled among the villages. In one such village the householders together invited the saṅgha to a meal and made offerings in various ways. At that time there was a poor man. Though he rejoiced in his heart, he had no wealth or precious things with which to make offerings. So he took up a handful of white stones, shining like pearls, and reverently offered them to the monks, making a great vow.
Ānanda, that poor man who once, with a devout mind, offered white stones as if they were jewels to the Saṅgha, is none other than the bhikṣu Treasure-Heaven of today. Because in the past he had a sincere and reverent heart, and offered white stones in place of jewels, for ninety-one kalpas he has received immeasurable blessings, enjoying boundless treasures. Whatever clothing or food he needed arose naturally without lack. And because he had that reverent and faithful heart, now that I have appeared in the world, he has attained realization.””
At that time the assembly, hearing the Buddha’s words, gave rise to faith and reverence. Some attained the first fruit up to the fourth fruit; others brought forth the resolve and abided in the stage of non-retrogression. All those present, having heard the Buddha’s teaching, rejoiced without limit and faithfully practiced in accordance.
Section Twelve: Kṣāntivādin
Thus have I heard:
At one time the Buddha was residing in Rājagṛha, in the Bamboo Grove. At that time, the World-Honored One had only just attained Buddhahood. First he converted Ajñāta Kauṇḍinya and the others, then he converted Uruvilvākāśyapa together with his brothers and a thousand disciples. Those who were delivered increased, and more and more attained liberation. The people of Rājagṛha rejoiced with boundless gratitude, praising the World-Honored One’s marvelous and extraordinary appearance in the world, which delivered beings from their sufferings—Kauṇḍinya and Uruvilvā and the others, “What past causes and conditions did these great bhikṣus have with the Tathāgata, that when the Buddha first sounded the drum of Dharma they were the very first to hear it, and the first to taste the nectar of the Dharma?”
When the bhikṣus heard the people’s words of praise, they reported them to the Buddha. The Buddha said to them: “In the past I made a great vow with those men—that if I were to accomplish Buddhahood, I would certainly deliver them first.”
The bhikṣus, having heard this, further said to the Buddha: “Long ago you made such a vow with them—how did this come to pass? We beg the Buddha to show compassion and explain it to us.”
The Buddha said to the bhikṣus: “Listen carefully, and reflect well. Innumerable, boundless, inconceivable asaṃkhya kalpas ago, in this Jambudvīpa there was a great country called Bārāṇasī. At that time the king was named Kaliṅga. In that country there was a great sage named Kṣāntibali, who dwelt in the mountains and forests with five hundred disciples, cultivating the practice of forbearance.
At that time, the king, with his ministers, consorts, and palace women, entered the mountains to wander. After a time, the king became tired and sat down to rest. The palace women left him, and went on their own to stroll among the mountain flowers and groves. There they saw Kṣāntivādin sitting in meditation. Their hearts gave rise to reverence, and they scattered many flowers over him, then sat before him to listen to his discourse on the Dharma.
When the king awoke, he looked around and did not see his women. Together with four ministers he went to search for them, and saw them sitting before the sage. The king asked: ‘Have you attained the four formless concentrations?’ He replied: ‘I have not attained them.’ The king asked again: ‘Have you attained the Four Immeasurable Minds?’ He replied: ‘I have not attained them.’ The king asked again: ‘Have you attained the four dhyānas?’ Again he replied: ‘I have not attained them.’
Then the king grew enraged, saying: ‘The virtues that you ought to have, you say you have not attained. You are but an ordinary man! Why then do you sit here in seclusion with so many women? How can anyone trust you?’ He asked further: ‘What is it that you practice here?’
The sage replied: ‘I cultivate the practice of forbearance.’ The king then drew his jeweled sword and said: ‘If you cultivate forbearance, I wish to test you—can you endure?’ Having spoken thus, he cut off both the sage’s hands, and asked again. The sage replied: ‘Forbearance.’ Then he cut off both his feet, and asked again, and he still said: ‘Forbearance.’ He cut off his ears and nose, yet the sage’s expression did not change, and still he said: ‘Forbearance.’
At that moment the earth quaked in six ways. The sage’s five hundred disciples rose into the air and asked their master: “Having endured such torment, has your mind of forbearance still not been lost?” Their master replied: “My mind has not changed.”
The king, astonished beyond measure, pressed further and asked: “You say you can practice forbearance—what proof is there?” The sage replied: “If it is truly so that I can practice forbearance, that my heart is sincere without the least falsity, then may the blood flowing from my body turn into milk, and may my body be restored as before.” As soon as he had spoken, the blood indeed turned into milk, and his body was restored to wholeness.”
Seeing this proof of his forbearance, the king was struck with dread and exclaimed: “Alas! I have been far too arrogant, slandering the great sage. I beg you to bestow your compassion and accept my repentance.” The sage said to him: “Because of your desire for women you used the sword to mutilate my body. I endure this like the great earth. When in the future I attain Buddhahood, I shall first cut off your three poisons with the sword of wisdom.”
At that time the nāgas, spirits, and gods of the mountains, seeing King Kaliṅga’s wanton cruelty against the sage of forbearance, each became enraged, raising up clouds, thunder, and lightning, wishing to harm the king and his retinue. The sage raised his head and said: “If it is for my sake, do not harm them.” After King Kaliṅga repented, he invited the sage into his palace for offerings.
At that time, there were non-Buddhist brāhmaṇas, followers numbering one thousand. Seeing the king revere and serve Kṣāntivādin, they became filled with jealousy. They smeared his dwelling with dirt, dust, and filth. When the sage saw what they had done, he made this vow: “The practice of forbearance that I now cultivate is for the sake of all beings. By thus continually accumulating good deeds, in the future I shall certainly accomplish Buddhahood. When I have accomplished the Way, I shall first use the water of Dharma to wash away your defilements, to eliminate the filth of your desires, and cause you to forever enjoy purity.”
The Buddha told the assembly of bhikṣus: “Do you wish to know who Kṣāntivādin was at that time? It was I myself. King Kaliṅga and the four ministers were none other than Kauṇḍinya and the other four bhikṣus. And those jealous brāhmaṇas who smeared filth were Uruvilvā and these very one thousand bhikṣus. At that time, because I was cultivating forbearance, I vowed that I would first deliver them. Therefore, after I attained Buddhahood, these were the very first to be delivered from suffering.”
When the bhikṣus heard all that the Buddha had spoken, they exclaimed that it was truly unprecedented. Rejoicing and inspired, they faithfully accepted the Buddha’s words, paid homage, and put them into practice.
Section Thirteen: King Loving-kindness Power’s Offering of Blood
Thus have I heard:
At one time, the Buddha was dwelling in Śrāvastī, in the Jetavana Anāthapiṇḍada Monastery. At that time the venerable Ānanda, after the midday meal, was sitting in meditation in the forest. He reflected to himself: “How wondrous is it that the Tathāgata has appeared in the world—beings of every kind all receive his benefit, living in peace and happiness.” Then he thought further: “What wholesome roots did Kauṇḍinya and the other four bhikṣus plant in the past, through what causes and conditions, that at the very opening of the Dharma gate they were the first to enter? When the drum of Dharma was first struck, why were they the very first to hear it? When the Dharma, like ambrosia, was first poured down, why were they the very first to receive its nourishment?” With these thoughts in mind, he rose from his seat and went to the Buddha’s dwelling, reporting all he had been pondering.
The Buddha said to him: “Kauṇḍinya and the others truly had causes and conditions with me in past lives. In former times I gave of my own blood to relieve their hunger and thirst, so that they could live in safety. Because of this, in this present life they are the first to receive my Dharma and attain liberation.”
The venerable Ānanda again said to the Buddha: “In the past you gave blood to save them from hunger, thirst, and hardship—how exactly did this happen? I pray that you will explain it in detail for us, so that we may all clearly understand.”
The Buddha said to him: “Listen well. In the distant past, countless asaṃkhya kalpas ago, in this Jambudvīpa there was a great king named Mitrabala (in the language of Jin means ‘Loving-kindness Power’). He ruled over eighty-four thousand small kings, had twenty thousand consorts, and ten thousand of ministers. This great king was possessed of a deeply compassionate heart; he cultivated the Four Immeasurable Minds. He always pitied all living beings, never wearying nor negligent, and constantly taught the people the Ten Wholesome Deeds. The people in all directions admired the king’s teaching and governance. Within his realm, the people lived in peace and happiness, all rejoicing in and relying upon their king.
The plague ghosts usually lived by feeding on the blood and vital essence of men. But because the people, under the king’s guidance, restrained their bodies, speech, and minds, and followed the Ten Wholesome Deeds, the plague ghosts could no longer intrude to harm them. Thus each of them became emaciated, starved, and weak. At that time five yakṣas came to the king’s palace and said to the king: ‘We survive only by feeding on the blood and essence of men. Because of your teaching, the people all follow the Ten Wholesome Deeds, and so we can no longer find any sustenance. Now we suffer hunger and thirst, with no way to live. Great King, your heart is full of compassion—how can you not pity us?’
When the king heard their words, he was filled with sorrow. He cut open his veins and pierced five places on his body, letting his blood flow. The five yakṣas each brought vessels to catch and drink the blood. When they had drunk their fill, they were greatly grateful for the king’s kindness, rejoicing exceedingly.
Then the king said to them: ‘If you are now sated, you should practice the Ten Wholesome Deeds. With my body’s blood I have relieved your hunger and thirst, granting you safety. When I in the future attain Buddhahood, I shall use the blood of the Dharma-body—discipline, emptiness, and wisdom—to extinguish your hunger and thirst of the three poisons and desires, and establish you in the peace and joy of Nirvāṇa.’
Ānanda, you should know: at that time, King Loving-kindness Power was none other than myself. Those five yakṣas were precisely Kauṇḍinya and the other four bhikṣus. In life after life I vowed to deliver them first, and so when I first expounded the Dharma, they were able to hear it—and upon hearing, they attained liberation.”
At that time, the venerable Ānanda and the entire assembly, having heard what the Buddha had spoken, were filled with reverence and faith, rejoicing without limit, and practiced diligently as instructed.
Section Fourteen: Subduing the Six Heretical Teachers
Thus have I heard:
At one time, the Buddha was in Rājagṛha, within the Bamboo Grove, together with one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikṣus. At that time, King Bimbisāra had already attained the first fruit, and his faith, reliance, reverence, and admiration became ever more abundant and flourishing. He constantly offered the highest and most excellent of the four requisites to the Buddha and to the community of bhikṣus. The king wished that all people would turn toward virtue, and he took as his own resolve the guidance of others toward goodness. Within the country there were six heretical teachers, such as Pūraṇa, who had earlier arisen in the world. With perverse and deviant views, with inverted and deluded doctrines, they misled the people. The deluded people, being misled, fell into confusion and dullness, and toward the heretical teaching they gave belief and faith. Thus the multitude of the heretical teaching spread widely throughout the court and the countryside, and the evil wings and wicked factions extended across the whole nation.
At that time, the king had a younger brother who greatly revered the six heretical teachers. Being deluded by erroneous instruction, he considered that the six teachers possessed spiritual attainment, and he exhausted his family wealth in offerings to them. When the light of the Buddha first began to shine, when the stream of wisdom had just begun to moisten and benefit others, because the mind had not yet uprooted the dust of evil, he was still covered and buried by layer upon layer of the net of dust. As the elder brother, King Bimbisāra deeply cherished the Buddha, diligently devoted and faithful, and by means of skillful expedients gave command that the entire nation should uphold the teaching of the Buddha. Yet his younger brother, holding firmly to the concepts of the heretical teaching, would not follow the king’s instruction. The king, many times, bade him to invite the Buddha and to make offerings. The younger brother said to his elder brother: “I already have my own teachers to whom I attend; I cannot again go to make offerings to Gautama. Yet since the king has already given command, it is not proper to disobey. Therefore, I shall hold a great assembly. I will not restrict how many may come. If they come of their own accord, then I shall provide them with food.”
Having assented to the king, he then began to prepare the offerings and arranged many beds and seats. When these preparations were finished, he convened the assembly and sent people to summon them. Soon the six heretical teachers and their followers all came, and seated themselves in the upper seats. They reproached the Buddha and the community of monks for not themselves coming, and they went to report to the king, saying: “The king has many times commanded that the Buddha be invited. Now for them the assembly has already been prepared, the time has nearly come, yet why do they not come?” The king said to his younger brother: “Though you have said you cannot go personally to invite them, still you ought to send someone to tell them that the time has already arrived.” The king’s younger brother accepted the king’s instruction and sent a man to speak thus.
The Buddha, together with a great multitude of monks, came to the assembly hall. Seeing that the six heretical teachers and their followers had already seated themselves in the high seats, the Buddha and the monks then sat down in order, seat by seat. The Buddha, by means of his miraculous power of the spiritual foot, caused the six heretical teachers and their followers suddenly to retreat down to the lower seats. The six heretical teachers then felt shame, rose up and moved to sit again. Yet when they had seated themselves, they looked and still found themselves in the lower place. Thus in this manner, again and again, the six heretical teachers moved to the upper seats, yet still saw themselves sitting below. Without any ability to change this, they could only sigh and remain seated.
The dānapati came forward carrying water before the upper seat. The Buddha said to the donor: “First give to your teachers.” Then he took the water to the six teachers. He raised the pot, yet the mouth of the pot by itself closed, and the water within did not pour forth. He then returned to the Buddha’s seat, and beginning with the Buddha, in due order, the water poured out, and all washed their hands.
When the washing of hands was finished, then there should be the recitation of the blessing. The donor took the food before the upper seat. The Buddha said to the donor: “Since it was not originally for me that the offering was prepared, first go before your teachers’ seats and let them recite the blessing.” The donor, hearing this, went before the seats of the six heretical teachers. But the six teachers, with their mouths closed, could not utter a sound. They all raised their hands and pointed toward the Buddha. Then the Buddha recited the blessing, the Brahmā sound flowing forth smoothly.
When the blessing was complete, then the eating of the food was to be carried out. The donor wished to begin with the upper seat in order. The Buddha again said to him: “First give to your teachers.” The donor then took the food and began with the six heretical teachers. Suddenly the food rose up into the air, remaining suspended in the empty space, just above the heads of the followers of the six teachers, such that they could not take hold of it. When the food had been given to the Buddha and the monks, then only did the food above the heads of the six teachers descend, and it was placed before them.
After the Buddha and the community of Sangha had eaten, they washed and rinsed, then returned to their seats. Next it was time to expound the Dharma. The Buddha said to the donor: “Let your teachers speak first.” Then he invited the six heretical teachers to preach the Dharma, but the mouths of the six heretical teachers could not open. They all together raised their hands and pointed toward the Buddha. Thus the Tathāgata widely, for the assembly, with a soft and gentle voice, freely expounded the nature of the Dharma, analyzing the principles, precisely in accord with the temperaments of the multitude. The people, having heard the Buddha’s discourse on the Dharma, all attained awakening and liberation. The younger brother of King Bimbisāra gained the purity of the Dharma-eye. The remaining people attained from the first fruit up to the third fruit. Some left the household life and attained the exhaustion of the outflows. Some gave rise to the mind of unsurpassed awakening. Some abided in the stage of non-retrogression. Thus the people each obtained what they wished, and so everyone came to recognize the true reality, to have faith in and reverence for the Three Jewels, to hold the six heretical teachers as base and despicable, abandoning them and ceasing to make offerings.
Then the six heretical teachers were greatly enraged. They each went apart to secluded places, seeking to learn strange and uncanny arts. Māra Pāpīyān, fearing that they would be frightened by the Buddha’s teaching and would no longer dare to spread their poisonous evil, descended from the heavens and transformed himself into the likeness of the six heretical teachers. Before each one he manifested the arts of the other five: flying through the air, producing water and fire from the body, dividing and dispersing the body, displaying a hundred transformations. Their foolish followers then once again relied upon one another, and concerning the earlier humiliation and the loss of the people’s offerings, they were resentful and indignant. The assembly of the six heretical teachers consulted together, saying: “Our skills are not inferior to Gautama. It was only because of the previous disgrace that the people’s minds scattered. Now that the marvelous magical arts of the teachers have been displayed, it can be seen that our arts are subtle and wondrous, sufficient to subdue the Buddha. We should report to the king and request to determine victory or defeat with the followers of the Buddha.” Having made their plan, they went to the king’s residence, and each one proclaimed how his intelligence and magical arts were extraordinary, wishing to contend in discussion of Dharma nature with the śramaṇas, to compare miraculous powers. After the contest, who is high and who is low would naturally be clear and evident.
The king laughed and said: “What extreme foolishness you have! The majesty of the Buddha is vast, the power of the Dharma is without boundary, his spiritual penetrations are great. To wish to contend with him is like trying to match the brightness of a firefly against the sun; like trying to compare the water collected in the print of a cow’s hoof with the ocean; like trying with the feeble strength of a jackal to contest the power of a lion; like trying with the small mound of earth piled by ants and leeches to compare with Mount Sumeru. Which is great and which is small is already perfectly clear. You are too deeply deluded, and yet you hold excessive hopes for yourselves—how extremely ignorant this is!” The six heretical teachers said again: “The outcome of the matter is yet to come. It is only because the great king has not seen our extraordinary transformations that you speak with prejudice, saying that we have too high expectations. But once the contest has been made, the great and the small will be clearly seen.” The king again told them: “If you wish to contest, then of course you may contest. But I fear that you will only bring destruction and humiliation upon yourselves. When you contest with the Buddha in miraculous powers, you should let us watch your strange transformations.” The six heretical teachers said: “Seven days hence, we hope the king will prepare a level ground for the contest.” After the six heretical teachers departed, the king arranged his chariots and horses and went to the Buddha’s dwelling, recounting what had just happened: “The six heretical teachers all told me that they wish to contest their magical arts with the Buddha. I tried with reasoning to admonish them and reproach them, but they would not withdraw their thought. I hope the World-Honored One will rouse his divine power and subdue and transform the wicked, for only thus will they abandon evil and turn to goodness. At the same time, we will also be able to see their transformations.” The Buddha told King Bimbisāra: “I myself know the proper time.” King Bimbisāra returned and reported that the Buddha had agreed to the contest. He then commanded his ministers to prepare a level and spacious ground, arranging beds and seats, erecting various banners and flags, solemn and dignified, crisscrossed and interlaced, exceedingly beautiful.
The people all longed in anticipation for the day of the contest. When that day came, the Buddha and the monks set forth from Rājagṛha and went to Vaiśālī. The kulīnas of Vaiśālī and the vast multitude of the people all went out of the city to welcome him. The people of Rājagṛha later sought to see the Buddha, but the Buddha was no longer in the city. On inquiry they learned that he had already gone to Vaiśālī.
The followers of the six heretical teachers then uttered wild boasts: “We already knew that the Buddha’s wisdom and miraculous arts are shallow and thin. All of you, because you held doubts in your minds, did not believe our words. Now that we have appointed a date to contest in miraculous powers, they, knowing that their skills are inferior to ours, have fled in fear and gone to Vaiśālī.” The followers of the six heretical teachers, their morale thus strengthened, clung together and resolved to pursue without ceasing.
At this time King Bimbisāra prepared offerings filling five hundred chariots, and together with his ministers and one billion four hundred million people, each bearing provisions, followed after the Buddha. The moving column of men and carts was without end, converging at Vaiśālī.
The six heretical teachers again went to the kulīnas and said: “Please grant us permission to contest our miraculous powers with Gautama, to discuss and preach the true suchness. If you grant permission, then let the contest be set seven days hence.” At that time the kulīnas again went to the Buddha and said: “The multitude of the six heretical teachers are in the utmost delusion and madness, self-praising and boasting of lofty Dharma, and they request to contest miraculous powers with the Buddha. We entreat the World-Honored One to bestow his divine power and subdue the demonic and the perverse.” The Buddha told them: “I myself know the proper time.” The kulīnas and their people then led their subjects to prepare earnestly, arranging the contest just as King Bimbisāra had done.
All awaited the following day, expecting the Buddha and the six heretical teachers to begin their contest. Yet the Buddha, together with the monks, went on to Kauśāmbī. The king of Kauśāmbī was named Udayana, and he came forth with his ministers to receive the Buddha. The people of Vaiśālī, on the next morning, inquired after the Buddha’s whereabouts, and someone said the Buddha had gone to the land of Kauśāmbī. The six heretical teachers, on hearing this, swelled all the more with arrogance, gathered together their followers, and resolved firmly to press on in close pursuit.
The kulīnas prepared offerings filling five hundred chariots, intended for the purpose of making offerings, and led the people of the country, numbering seven hundred million, joining together with King Bimbisāra’s host, assembling at Kauśāmbī to behold the contest of miraculous powers between the Buddha and the six heretical teachers. The people and their retinues filled the roads, stretching on without end, all proceeding toward Kauśāmbī.
When the six teachers arrived at Kauśāmbī, they went to pay homage to King Udayana, and there they proclaimed at length what had transpired in the previous days: “The śramaṇa, knowing that he has nothing to rely upon, has repeatedly fled and avoided us. We cannot compel him; we need the great king to set the date and order him to contest with us.” King Udayana spoke to the Buddha the words of the six heretical teachers: “World-Honored One, are you willing to contest with them?” The Buddha again told them: “I myself know the proper time.” King Udayana desired that the Buddha would contend with the six heretical teachers in his own land, so he earnestly prepared, arranging as King Bimbisāra had done.
When the appointed day of the contest drew near, the Buddha again departed from the land of Kauśāmbī, and with the community of bhikṣus came to the land of the Vajji. The king of the Vajji land was named Ceṭaka, and he came forth with his vast multitude to receive the World-Honored One. On the following day, the people of Kauśāmbī asked where the World-Honored One was, and they were told that he had already gone to the land of the Vajji. The followers of the six heretical teachers closely pursued. At that time King Udayana with eight hundred million of his people, together with King Bimbisāra and the multitudes of other lands, all went to the Vajji land and gathered there. The six heretical teachers went before the king of the Vajji and loudly proclaimed: “You should command Gautama to contest with us.” King Ceṭaka then spoke this to the Buddha, and the Buddha replied as before: “I myself know the proper time.” King Ceṭaka likewise earnestly prepared the arrangements.
When the day of the contest was at hand, the Buddha again left that country, and together with the monks came to the land of Takṣaśilā. The king of this country was named Indravarman, and he came forth with his ministers and people to welcome the Buddha. King Ceṭaka with five hundred million people, together with King Bimbisāra and his ministers and multitudes, all pursued the Buddha’s whereabouts, hastening toward Takṣaśilā. The six heretical teachers already arrived there, and told King Indravarman all that had occurred, extremely arrogant and uttering wild words: “Please grant us to contest miraculous powers with the Buddha.” King Indravarman again reported to the Buddha, and the Buddha gave the same reply: “I myself know the proper time.”
When the day of the contest had been thoroughly prepared, the Buddha again departed from Takṣaśilā, and together with the monks went to the land of Benares. The king of Benares was named Brahmadatta, and he too came forth with his people to welcome the Buddha. On the next day, the people of Takṣaśilā discovered that the Buddha had already departed their country. The six heretical teachers once more traced the Buddha’s course and pursued after him. King Indravarman with six hundred million people, together with King Bimbisāra and others, all followed the traces of the Buddha. The six heretical teachers arrived at the land of Benares, and as before related to King Brahmadatta what had happened, and proclaimed their wish to contest miraculous powers with the Buddha. The king, as before, went to report this to the Buddha, and the Buddha again replied: “I myself know the proper time.”
When the preparations for the day of contest had been made, the Buddha again left that country, and together with the monks went to the land of Kapilavastu. The Śākya clansmen of Kapilavastu came forth with their multitude to welcome the Buddha. On the following day the people of Benares learned that the Buddha had already departed. The followers of the six heretical teachers continued rushing in pursuit. King Brahmadatta with eight hundred million people, together with King Bimbisāra and the kings and peoples of all countries, all followed after the Buddha toward the land of Kapilavastu. When the six heretical teachers arrived, they greatly boasted before the Śākya clansmen of their intelligence and miraculous arts, saying how superior and lofty they were: “Please permit us to contest miraculous powers with the Buddha, and thereby determine victory or defeat.” The Śākya clansmen went and reported to the Buddha, recounting in full what the six heretical teachers had said. The Buddha again said: “I myself know the proper time.” That country too made earnest preparations.
When the appointed date drew near, the Buddha together with the monks went on to the land of Śrāvastī. The king of Śrāvastī was named Prasenajit, and he came with his ministers and people to welcome the Buddha. On the next day the Śākya clansmen came to know that the Buddha had already departed, and the six heretical teachers led their followers in pursuit from behind. The Śākya clansmen, leading nine hundred million people, together with King Bimbisāra and the people of all the other countries, filled rivers and fields as they pursued until they arrived at Śrāvastī. When the six heretical teachers had arrived, they saw King Prasenajit and said to him, recounting the whole matter from the beginning: “We wish to contest miraculous powers with the Buddha. Yet when the deadline arrives, he evades and flees. We cannot compel him. Now we, together with the vast multitude of people, have pursued to the great king’s land. The great king should cause them to face us in contest!”
When King Prasenajit heard this he laughed and said: “The wondrous transformations of the Buddha’s arts are Inconceivable. Why must you insist on using your base and shallow abilities, your petty and meager strength, to contest in miraculous powers and wisdom with the Great Dharma King?” The six heretical teachers were fierce in manner and arrogant in spirit. King Prasenajit then went before the Buddha and said: “The six heretical teachers are so urgent in their desire to contend in miraculous powers with the Buddha. We entreat the World-Honored One to bestow his divine power and subdue them, so that the vast multitude of people may distinguish the true from the false.” The Buddha told the king: “I myself know the proper time.” Then King Prasenajit commanded his ministers to prepare the grounds, heaping up abundant incense and flowers, arranging many beds and seats, raising up various banners and canopies. When all had been carefully prepared, the great assembly gathered.
On the first day of the twelfth month, the Buddha came to the contest ground. On that day King Prasenajit set forth a great feast. At dawn he personally offered a twig of the arka tree to the Buddha. The Buddha accepted the twig, and after chewing it, cast the remaining fragments upon the ground. When the fragments touched the ground they at once grew forth again as new shoots, flourishing and luxuriant, rising up from the earth, roots and stems gradually growing, reaching to a height of more than five hundred yojanas. Branches and leaves were densely abundant, and the surrounding grasses and trees also flourished. Then gradually the tree bore flowers, each blossom as large as a cart wheel. Then gradually it bore fruits, each as large as a jar holding five pecks. The colors of its roots, stems, branches, and leaves reflected the radiance of the seven treasures, dazzling and resplendent, emitting light that even obscured the sun and moon. Whoever ate its fruit found the taste surpassing nectar, its fragrance spreading in all directions. Those who smelled its aroma felt pure and refreshed, with hearts gladdened and delighted. When the fragrant breeze blew, the fragrance struck the nostrils, making minds spacious and joyful. From its branches and leaves there issued forth harmonious sounds, expounding the essentials of the Buddha Dharma, flowing fully and freely, causing those who listened never to tire. All who were present, seeing this miraculous transformation of the tree, deepened in reverence and faith. Then the Buddha began to expound the Dharma, fitting to their dispositions. All the multitude attained awakening and liberation. Those who aspired to the Buddha Path, many gained fruits and were reborn in the heavens.
On the second day, King Udayana invited the Buddha. At that time the Tathāgata transformed the two sides beside him into two jeweled mountains, solemn and lofty, exceedingly magnificent. On them were gathered various precious jewels, the five colors radiating, light blazing forth. Several kinds of trees grew in rows upon the mountains, with flourishing blossoms and fruits, sending forth delicate and subtle fragrances. Upon the summit of one mountain there grew ripe rice, possessing the flavor of a hundred tastes, sweet and smooth, delicious to eat. The people could take and eat at will. Upon the other mountain there grew soft and tender grasses, fat and sweet, awaiting cattle and beasts to eat their fill. After eating, their natures became joyful and content. All who were present, seeing these mountains and the wondrous transformations displayed, freely partook of the food, rejoiced in their hearts, and deepened their admiration. Then the Buddha, in due time, expounded the Dharma to the great multitude, causing everyone to awaken and be liberated, to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed awakening. Many attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens.
On the third day, King Ceṭaka invited the Buddha to make offerings. With pure water he offered the Buddha, and the Buddha rinsed. The Buddha then spat forth the rinsing water upon the ground, and it transformed into a jeweled pond. The jeweled pond stretched one hundred miles on each side, entirely inlaid with the seven treasures, the colors shining and intermingling, dazzling and splendid. The water within possessed all eight excellent qualities. At the bottom of the pond lay sands of the seven treasures. There were eight kinds of lotus flowers, blossoms as large as cart wheels, blue, yellow, red, white, crimson, green, purple, and variegated colors intermingled. Their fragrance was abundant and pervasive, filling the four quarters, so that all directions could smell. Each of the lotus flowers of different colors emitted different lights, illuminating the world. All who were present, seeing this jeweled pond so wondrous and marvelous, rejoiced and leapt for joy, praising the immeasurable virtues of the Buddha. The Buddha, following conditions, adapting to the minds of the people, expounded the Dharma for them, causing everyone to attain liberation and awakening, to give rise to the mind of unsurpassed awakening. Innumerable people attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens, and the increase of blessings and merit was beyond calculation.
On the fourth day, King Indrabhāmin invited the Buddha. On that day, the Buddha caused eight channels to flow out from the jeweled pond on its four sides. The streams intermingled, pouring into one another, the surging waters turning back naturally, and the sounds of the waters were exceedingly pure and marvelous. They proclaimed and spoke forth various Dharma teachings: the five faculties, the five powers, the seven factors of awakening, the eightfold right path, the three knowledges, the six supernormal powers, the six perfections, the four immeasurables. With the mind of great loving-kindness and great compassion he exhorted, inspired, and guided the multitude, expounding all kinds of wondrous Dharma. All those who were present, both those who listened and those who beheld, their minds all attained awakening and liberation. They gave rise to the mind of unsurpassed awakening, they attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens, and as for those who increased and accumulated blessings and wisdom, their number was yet greater.
On the fifth day, King Brahmadatta invited the Buddha to make offerings. On that day, the Buddha emitted light from his mouth, golden radiance shining forth, illuminating the three thousand great thousand worlds. Wherever the light reached, the three poisons and the five aggregates of all beings were naturally extinguished. Their bodies and minds were joyful, just as when a bhikṣu attains the state of the third dhyāna. The multitude all the more praised and marveled, sincerely revering the Buddha’s virtues. At that time the Buddha expounded the Dharma for them, enabling all to attain awakening and liberation, to give rise to the great Bodhi-mind, to attain fruits and be reborn in the heavens. Those who increased their merit and cultivated wisdom were countless.
On the sixth day, the kulīnas in turn invited the Buddha. On that day the Buddha universally opened the hearts of all, so that each person knew the good and evil thoughts within the minds of all others, their inclinations and karmic actions. This caused everyone to rejoice in astonishment, to admire and praise the virtue of the Buddha’s Dharma. Then the Buddha expounded for them various wondrous Dharmas, so that all attained awakening and liberation. Innumerable people vowed to seek the Buddha, attained fruits, and were reborn in the heavens.
On the seventh day, the Śākya clansmen invited the Buddha to make offerings. On that day, the Buddha manifested transformations, causing each of the assembly to see himself as a Wheel-Turning King, with the seven treasures and a thousand sons. Kings of various lands and their ministers and people all reverently attended and served, their hearts of devotion undiminished. Everyone felt astonishment and wonder, joy without limit. Then the Buddha expounded for them various wondrous Dharmas, in accord with their minds. The multitude gave rise to the mind of unsurpassed right awakening, and those who attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens were beyond reckoning.
On the eighth day, the Buddha accepted the invitation of Śakra, Lord of the Devas. Śakra prepared for the Buddha a lion throne. The Tathāgata ascended the throne, Śakra standing in attendance on the left, Brahmā standing on the right, and the multitude sat quietly below. The Buddha slowly extended his arm and pressed his hand upon the seat. Suddenly there arose a great sound, like the trumpet-call of an elephant. At that sound, five great spirits and demons appeared, and they destroyed and pulled down the high seats of the six heretical teachers. The Secret Vajra Guardian held a vajra, the head of vajra emitting fire, which he raised against the six heretical teachers. The six heretical teachers were terrified, fleeing east and west. Because of this great humiliation they were overwhelmed with shame, and they cast themselves into the river and died. Their disciples, numbering nine hundred million, all came to the Buddha and sought to become disciples. The Buddha said: “Come, bhikṣus.” At once their hair fell away of itself, Dharma robes clothed their bodies, and they all became śramaṇas. The Buddha then expounded the Dharma for them, pointing out the essentials of the Dharma, so that their outflows were all exhausted, they attained awakening and liberation, and all became Arhats.
Then from the eighty thousand hair-pores of the Tathāgata’s body there shone forth great light, illuminating the whole of space. At the end of each ray of light there appeared a great lotus flower, and upon each lotus there was a transformation-body of the Buddha, surrounded by an assembly, expounding the Dharma. All the multitude, seeing this supreme and marvelous transformation, their faith and reverence increased all the more. The Buddha, according to their capacities, expounded the Dharma for them. Many attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens, and the increase of merit and wholesome minds was immeasurable.
On the ninth day, Brahmā, King of the Heaven of Brahmā, invited the Buddha. The Buddha transformed his body to reach up to the Heaven of Brahmā, majestic and eminent, vast and immeasurable. He radiated great light, illuminating heaven and earth. All the multitude raised their heads to gaze upward, and all were able to hear the Buddha’s words. The Buddha expounded for them the essentials of the Dharma in many ways, causing countless people to vow before the Buddha, to attain fruits, and to be reborn in the heavens.
On the tenth day, the Four Great Heavenly Kings invited the Buddha. At that time the World-Honored One widely allowed the multitude to behold the Buddha’s multicolored body. The colored radiance filled the heavens, and from the realm of the Four Heavenly Kings up to the Heaven of the Peak of Form, all were able to see the Buddha’s body emitting great brilliance. The Buddha expounded in detail for the multitude subtle and wondrous Dharma, and the masses all gazed upward from afar, the Buddha’s body visible and clear. All the people grew even more reverent. The Buddha, in accord with their thoughts, expounded the wondrous Dharma. The multitude gave rise to the great mind, abided in the stage of non-retrogression, and those who attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens were beyond counting.
On the eleventh day, Sudatta invited the Buddha. On this day the Buddha, seated upon a lofty throne, caused his form to vanish so that no one could see him. Yet he emitted radiance and sent forth a soft and gentle voice, freely expounding the essentials of the various Dharmas. Those present, hearing the Dharma, attained understanding and awakening. Some gave rise to the great mind and abided in non-retrogression, and those who attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens were very many.
On the twelfth day, the layman Citta invited the Buddha to make offerings. On this day the Buddha entered the samādhi of compassion, emitting golden radiance that illuminated the great thousand worlds. Wherever the radiance reached, the minds of beings extinguished the three poisons. Spontaneously, within their hearts, there arose thoughts of loving-kindness, equal regard for all beings, regarding others as fathers and mothers, as elder and younger brothers, with a heart of nurturing love that endured. Then the Buddha expounded for them various wondrous Dharmas. Many gave rise to the great mind, abided in non-retrogression, and those who attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens were beyond reckoning.
On the thirteenth day, King Ceṭaka once again invited the Buddha and prepared offerings. On this day, the Buddha ascended a lofty seat, and from his navel emitted light. It divided into two beams, extending seven fathoms high from his body. At the end of each of the two beams there was a lotus, and upon each lotus there was a transformation-body of the Buddha, no different from the original Buddha. From the navels of the transformation-Buddhas there also came forth light, dividing into two beams, also extending seven fathoms high, and at the ends of those beams also were lotuses, upon which were transformation-Buddhas. In this way the Buddha’s transformations filled the three thousand great thousand worlds. When all beings beheld this, they were amazed and overjoyed. The Buddha, in accordance with the time and their minds, expounded the Dharma for them. Countless beings gave rise to the great mind, abided in non-retrogression, and attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens.
On the fourteenth day, King Udayana invited the Buddha. At that time King Udayana scattered flowers upon the body of the Buddha. At once the Buddha transformed those flowers that had fallen upon himself into one thousand two hundred and fifty lofty chariots of the seven treasures. The chariots rose as high as the Heaven of Brahmā, brighter even than the Golden Mountain. Within their brilliance, mingled with the colors of many jewels, radiance shone and golden light blazed in all directions, indescribable in words. Precious gems and necklaces were interwoven and inlaid upon the lofty chariots. Within each chariot there was a Buddha body, the Buddha body emitting great light, the radiance shining throughout the three thousand great thousand worlds. The multitude, beholding this transformation, felt joy and reverence together. At that time the Buddha greatly expounded the Dharma, fitting remedies to different ailments, prescribing medicines to cure them, so that countless beings gave rise to the great mind, abided in non-retrogression, and attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens.
On the fifteenth day, King Bimbisāra invited the Buddha. The Buddha beforehand told King Bimbisāra: “You only need to prepare the vessels.” So King Bimbisāra earnestly prepared vessels for food, in great number. When the time for eating arrived, all the various vessels were naturally filled to the brim with the finest delicacies, enough for all present to eat their fill. After eating, the multitude’s bodies and minds were relaxed, peaceful, and joyful. Then the World-Honored One pointed with his finger to the ground, and the eighteen hells all appeared before the multitude. Innumerable beings undergoing punishment each declared: “At such and such a time I committed such and such an evil deed, and for this cause I now undergo such suffering.” All who were present, hearing this, felt great pity for them, and at the same time grief and fear, so that their garments and their hair bristled and quivered. The Buddha, according to the moment, expounded the Dharma for them. The multitude, having heard, gave rise to the great mind, some abided in non-retrogression, some attained fruits and were reborn in the heavens, and they were beyond number. The beings in the hells, seeing the Buddha and hearing the Dharma, their hearts grew deeply reverent, and all from afar took refuge. In the end, they were all reborn in the heavens or born into the human realm.
At this time King Bimbisāra knelt down and said to the Buddha: “The World-Honored One possesses the thirty-two marks. The marks upon the body and upon the hands we have already seen, but we have not yet seen the wheel-mark upon the feet of the Tathāgata. We hope you will reveal your feet to the multitude, that we may gaze upon them.” The Buddha then extended his foot and displayed it to the multitude. All those present beheld the wheel-mark upon the soles of the Buddha’s feet, dignified and distinct, the lines like paintings, clear and bright, delightful to see again and again without weariness. The king was even more joyful, and again spoke to the Buddha: “We do not know what good roots and merits the World-Honored One practiced in the past, that have resulted in such marvelous and beautiful wheel-marks.” The Buddha told the king: “Because in the past I myself cultivated the ten wholesome deeds, and also instructed others in the ten wholesome deeds, therefore I obtained wheel-marks so marvelous and distinct.”
The king again said to the Buddha: “We do not know how the World-Honored One himself practiced the ten wholesome deeds and also taught others the ten wholesome deeds. How was this matter carried out? We earnestly hope the World-Honored One will explain, so that we may awaken.”
The Buddha told the king: “Listen carefully and consider well. Innumerable asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, in this Jambudvīpa there was a great king named Siddhanimi. He ruled over eighty-four thousand small kingdoms, eight billion villages, and ten thousand ministers. Although the king had twenty thousand queens, none bore him a son. The king was deeply distressed, fearing that the succession of the throne would be cut off. He widely prayed and sacrificed, supplicating the gods of heaven to grant that his queen might give birth to a son. The king’s first queen was named Surīprabhāmaya. After some time she felt herself to be pregnant. From the time of conception she became even more wise and clear, even more compassionate and magnanimous, pitying all beings, exhorting people to goodness. When the months of pregnancy were complete, she gave birth to a son. This son was upright and handsome, surpassing all others, and from every pore of his body radiance issued forth. The king was exceedingly joyful, gazing upon the child endlessly without weariness. He then summoned an astrologer to divine the child’s fortune.
The astrologer opened the swaddling cloth, looked, and exclaimed with praise: ‘Most marvelous indeed! This child’s appearance surpasses the ordinary, his virtue will pacify the four quarters, and the people of the world will revere and love him.’ The king rejoiced all the more, and asked the astrologer to give a name to the child. The astrologer said to the king: ‘What auspicious omens have appeared?’ The king replied: ‘Since the child’s mother conceived him, she has become extraordinarily wise, greatly compassionate, constantly exhorting people to goodness. There have also been many other auspicious signs. We find these omens very wondrous.’ The astrologer was filled with joy and said to the king: ‘Since the mother afterwards became greatly wise, as though possessed of her own radiance, he should be named Jñānaprabha (in the language of Jin means “Beneficent Light”)’.
When the prince grew up, his wisdom surpassed that of others. After his father the king passed away and the burial rites were completed, the small kings and the ministers assembled and urged the prince to inherit the throne. But the prince firmly declined, saying: ‘I cannot inherit the throne.’ The ministers said: ‘The great king has already passed away, and only the prince remains, without other brothers. Now you say you do not wish to inherit the throne—then to whom would you yield it?’ The prince answered: ‘Those who commit evil in the world will surely not submit willingly. If I impose punishments upon them, the guilt I incur will be great. Only if I can lead the people to practice the ten wholesome deeds am I able to ascend and govern the realm.’ The ministers replied: ‘Very well. We only hope the prince will at once ascend the throne. As for the way of the ten wholesome deeds, let an edict be issued immediately to enforce them.’ Thus the prince ascended the throne and admonished the people to practice the ten wholesome deeds. The common people revered and obeyed, turning away from former evil minds, establishing upright conduct.
Māra, seeing this, was filled with jealousy, and sought to corrupt the king’s virtuous teaching. He secretly sent letters to the subordinate small kingdoms of the great king, saying: ‘The former command to practice the ten wholesome deeds has brought no good result. It is merely labor in vain, an empty work. Henceforth, allow the people to do the ten evil deeds as they please, without fear.’ The kings of the subordinate countries, receiving this letter, found it most strange: ‘Why has the king, beyond all reason, exhorted the people to abandon good and follow evil?’ Each then dispatched trusted messengers to inquire again into the matter. The great king, hearing this, was greatly astonished and said: ‘I never issued such an edict. Why has such a thing arisen?’ At once he ordered the royal chariots to be prepared, and personally went to each small kingdom to see the people and correct the false teaching.
Māra thereupon transformed himself upon the roadside into a man amidst a great fire. The blazing flames were fierce beyond measure, and within them he cried aloud in grief. The king approached and asked: ‘Why are you like this?’ The man replied: ‘Because I formerly exhorted people to practice the ten wholesome deeds, now I suffer this torment, my pain is unbearable.’ The king said: ‘How can it be that exhorting people to practice the ten wholesome deeds would bring suffering?’ He further asked: ‘Since you say that exhorting others to the ten wholesome deeds has brought you suffering, did those who were exhorted receive good recompense?’ The man replied: ‘Those who were exhorted formerly have indeed obtained good recompense, but because I instructed them, I alone now suffer.’ The king, hearing this, was gladdened and said: ‘So long as those who were exhorted in former times receive good recompense and enjoy happiness, I myself should willingly endure suffering and should not resent it.’ When Māra heard these words, he vanished and departed.
The king traveled through all the kingdoms, proclaiming the ten wholesome deeds. The people obeyed his teaching, carefully guarding body, speech, and mind. From then on the true teaching spread throughout the nation. The people admired and revered the king all the more. The king’s majesty flourished, and auspicious signs descended everywhere. The golden wheel appeared in advance, and the seven treasures were complete. The king toured and instructed throughout the four quarters, taking as his task the proclamation of the ten wholesome deeds. Thus it was.
Great King, if you wish to know who was King Siddhanimi at that time, he is now my father, King Pure-Rice. At that time the mother was now my mother, Mahāmāyā. And the king Beneficent Light, who by the ten wholesome deeds taught and transformed the people—that is now myself. Because in that lifetime I myself practiced the ten wholesome deeds, and because I exhorted the people to practice the ten wholesome deeds, therefore I have obtained the thousand-spoked wheel-mark beneath my feet today.”
At that time King Bimbisāra again said to the Buddha: “The multitude of the six heretical teachers were confused in their minds, overestimating their own strength, greedily attached to profit and offerings, and gave rise to a mind of jealousy. They requested to compete in spiritual powers with the World-Honored One, even saying: ‘If the Buddha performs one kind of miraculous transformation, I will perform two kinds.’ The Buddha manifested miraculous transformations that were Inconceivable, while the multitude of the six heretical teachers exhausted their skills and retreated, truly without a single art, ashamed within themselves and degraded, they cast themselves into the water and died, their disciples scattered, this was their self-caused destruction. Think for a moment why they would become deluded to such an extent!”
The Buddha told the great king: “Not only today did the disciples of the six heretical teachers, for the sake of striving for name and profit, contend with me and thereby lose their followers, but in past ages as well they also contended with me. I likewise defeated them and took away their followers.”
The king then knelt on the ground and said to the Buddha: “I do not know how in past ages the World-Honored One contended with the six heretical teachers and took away their followers. I earnestly wish that you would explain it in detail for us.”
The Buddha told the king: “Listen attentively and reflect well. In the past, innumerable asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, within this Jambudvīpa there was a king named Mahāśakuni, who ruled over five hundred minor kings and had five hundred consorts, yet no crown prince to inherit the throne. The king thought to himself: ‘Day by day my age increases, yet I have not a single son who can inherit the kingship. If by chance I should pass away, then the many minor kings and the people will not be able to pacify each other, and there will be great wars of arms, vainly bringing harm to the lives of the people. At that time the nation will fall into great disorder, and the consequences will cause suffering beyond endurance!’ Thinking of these things, his heart was just like being submerged in a ocean of sorrow.
At that time Śakra, lord of the Devas, from his distant heavenly abode knew of the king’s sorrow. Descending from the heavens to the human realm, he transformed into a physician and came to the residence of the king, asking the king why he was sorrowful. The king then truthfully told the physician what he was worried about. The transformed physician said to the king: ‘Do not grieve over this matter any longer. For this affair I will go into the snowy mountains to gather many kinds of herbs, and I will prepare them for the queens to take. After the many consorts take the medicine, they will surely all become pregnant.’ When the king heard these words, it was as if a great burden were lifted, and he said to the physician: ‘If you can do this, then it is truly excellent!’
Thereupon the transformed physician went to the snowy mountains, gathered various herbs, and carried them back to the palace. He boiled the herbs in milk and first gave them to the chief queen. The chief queen disliked the foul smell, and in her heart did not believe the words of the physician, and as a result when the physician transformed by Śakra returned to the heavens, the chief queen had not actually taken them. The remaining minor queens divided and took the boiled herbs, and before long all of them felt they had conceived, and they each told the chief queen of their feelings. The chief queen, hearing this, then felt regret and asked: ‘Is there any of the medicine you took still remaining?’ They replied: ‘It is already entirely consumed.’ The chief queen again asked: ‘Is there still any of the raw herbs from before?’ They replied: ‘Yes, there are.’ She then ordered milk to be taken, and the herbs were boiled again for the chief queen to drink. After the chief queen took the medicine, within a few days she also felt herself to have conceived.
When the minor queens’ months of pregnancy were complete, they each gave birth to sons. Each child was handsome and well-formed. The king, looking upon these sons, rejoiced in his heart, but when he thought of the chief queen he again felt melancholy and uneasy. When the chief queen’s term of pregnancy was fulfilled, she too gave birth to a son. This son’s appearance was extremely ugly, just like a stump. When his parents looked upon him, their hearts were not greatly pleased, and together they gave him the name Sthāṇu, which means ‘Stump,’ and ordered that he be raised within the palace. As this son gradually grew in years, the rest of his brothers had already taken wives, yet only Stump was not much concerned with this matter.
Later it happened that a neighboring country raised troops to invade the borders. The five hundred princes led armies to resist the enemy, yet as soon as battle began they were defeated and fled, retreating back toward the city. Prince Stump asked his elder and younger brothers: “Why are you in such terror, retreating in defeat?” His brothers said: “Our expedition was unfavorable, the enemy pursued us, and therefore we retreated in defeat.” Stump said: “Such daring foreign bandits, how dare they come and invade the land of our country! Go for me into the ancestral heavenly temple and fetch the great bow and the conch, I will defeat them.” Their ancestor was a Wheel-Turning King. Immediately many people were dispatched to bring forth the bow and conch and deliver them to him. Stump took up the great bow, drew back the bowstring, and the sound of the bow was like thunder, the twanging of the bowstring was heard within forty leagues. Then holding the bow and taking the conch, alone he went forth to resist the enemy. When he arrived at the battle line, he first blew the conch, and the sound of the conch was like a thunderclap. When the enemy army heard it, they were struck with fear and fled in panic. After the enemy troops were utterly defeated, he returned to the city. From that time his father the king gave him special honor, regarded him with different eyes, cherished him greatly, and considered finding an occasion to obtain a wife for him and arrange his marriage.
At that time there was a king named Ṛṣivaṃśa. King Mahāśakuni heard that this king had a daughter of extraordinarily surpassing beauty, and immediately dispatched envoys to go and ask for marriage. The king pointed to the appearance of one of Stump’s elder brothers and showed it to the envoy, saying: “Seek to marry King Ṛṣivaṃśa’s daughter for this son.” The envoy, carrying the royal command, went to that country and fully conveyed the words of the king. King Ṛṣivaṃśa at once consented to the marriage. When the envoy returned, he reported to the king, and the king rejoiced greatly. Soon thereafter he sent carriages and horses to escort the bride, and he himself specially instructed Stump: “Do not go to see your bride in the daytime.” From then onward, it was always only after sunset that Stump would be together with his wife.
At that time the wives of the other princes gathered in private conversation, each praising the many talents and virtues of her own husband. Then Stump’s wife also praised her husband, saying: “My husband is brave and strong, vigorous and powerful, his body is at once very fine and supple, he is worthy of respect and delightful to behold.” The other wives said: “You need not say so. Your husband is unspeakably ugly, just like a stump. If you were to see him in the daytime, it would certainly fill you with terror and dread.” Stump’s wife, hearing these words, kept them in her heart. She then beforehand covered a lamp and hid it in a dark place. When her husband lay down, she brought out the lamp to look upon him, and seeing his form, she was greatly horrified. Thus in that very night she fled back to her own country.
When dawn came and the husband awoke, he discovered his wife was gone. He was deeply uneasy and sorrowful. Taking his bow and conch, he followed the path back toward his wife’s country. Arriving there, he lodged in the house of a certain great minister.
Later the kings of six countries heard that King Ṛṣivaṃśa had such a beautiful daughter, and each of them was greedy to obtain her. They therefore raised vast armies and hastened forward, each demanding her in marriage. At this time King Ṛṣivaṃśa was greatly troubled, and he ordered his ministers to widely deliberate and surely bring forth a plan. If he gave his daughter in marriage to one of the six kings, then the other five would certainly bear resentment. What method could be used to make the enemies of the six nations withdraw? One minister said: “It is fitting to divide this daughter into six portions, and give each country’s army one portion. Then their thought of attacking our country will be appeased.” Another minister said: “For the time being, offer a great reward and summon forth men of talent. If there is one who can drive back the armies of the six countries, then the king should give his daughter in marriage to him, and also divide with him half of the kingdom, in order to reward him with double honor.” The king approved this plan, and at once began to summon men.
At this time Sthāṇu, carrying the bow and conch, answered the summons, went forth from the city, and resisted the enemies. He blew the conch and twanged the bow, and the multitudes of the six armies were struck with extraordinary fear, so that they dared not move. Stump then rushed into the midst of the six armies, cut off the heads of the six kings, seized their crowns and ornaments, and took command of the armies of the six countries. King Ṛṣivaṃśa rejoiced greatly, and gave his daughter to him, honoring him as the great king, placing under his command the troops of all seven nations. He then led forth all the troops together with his former wife and returned to his own country.
His father the king, hearing that he had won a great victory and returned, went out beyond the borders of the country to welcome him. Seeing the multitude of troops his son was leading, numerous and powerful, he wished to yield the kingship to Stump, urging him to become the great king. Stump did not agree to take the throne, saying: “Father is still alive and in good health; if I at this time ascend to the throne, it is not in accord with principle.” Returning to the palace, he harshly reproved his wife, saying: “Why did you formerly, in the night, abandon me and flee?” His wife answered: “Husband’s body and appearance were extremely ugly. When I first beheld you I was greatly terrified, thinking you were not a man.” Sthāṇu took a mirror to look upon himself, and saw that his body and countenance indeed resembled a stump. He himself felt anxiety and loathing, unwilling to look further, and he thought of going into the forest to kill himself.
Śakra, from his distant heavenly realm, knew of it and descended to the human world, coming to his side and asking him why this was so. Śakra, taking pity on his state of mind, gave him a precious jewel and told him: “Always wear this jewel upon the crown of your head, and you can become just as upright and handsome as I am.” Sthāṇu then joyfully received it, placed the precious jewel upon the crown of his head, and at once felt a wondrous transformation in his body.
Returning to the palace, he took up his bow and conch, intending to go outside to play. When his wife saw him, she did not recognize him, and said to him: “Who are you? Do not touch these things. If my husband returns and sees, he will perhaps harm you.” He then said to the woman: “I am your husband.” The woman did not believe at all, and said to him: “My husband is exceedingly ugly; you, however, are upright and handsome. Who are you, claiming to be my husband?” The husband then removed the precious jewel from his head, and once again revealed his original appearance. The wife, seeing this, was overjoyed, and asked why it was so. The husband then told her completely the account of how he had obtained the precious jewel. From that time onward the woman held her husband in great respect and love. The name Stump from then on no longer existed, and people all called him Sundarasena.
Not long after, he thought to himself: “I should lead the troops and build another palace city.” So he went out to inspect, and coming to a level and spacious place he said to his attendants: “This place is suitable for building a palace city.” Four nāga kings transformed into human form and came asking him: “With what will you build the palace city?” Sundarasena said: “With earth to build.” The nāga kings said: “Why not use precious things?” Sundarasena said: “To build such a great palace city, where would I find so many precious things?” The nāga kings answered: “We will give them to you.” Immediately they transformed the four sides into four great springs, and told him: “If you use the water of the eastern spring as a moat, the water will become beryl; if you use the water of the southern spring as a moat, the water will become gold; if you use the water of the western spring as a moat, the water will become silver; if you use the water of the northern spring as a moat, the water will become vaiḍūrya.” Sundarasena immediately ordered the digging of the moat, and the waters indeed became as the nāga kings had said. He then ordered the building of the city, which had a circumference of four hundred leagues; he also ordered the building of the palace, twenty miles in extent. The streets, lanes, towers, temples, dwellings, residences, groves and bathing pools within the palace city were all made from the above four precious things, adorned, pure, lofty, and marvelous, just like the palaces of the heavens. When the palace city was completed, the seven treasures naturally appeared. Sundarasena ruled over the four quarters of the realm and instructed the people to cultivate the ten wholesome actions.
It was thus, great king. Do you wish to know who was then King Mahāśakuni? It is my father, King Pure-Rice, of today. The mother of that time is my present mother, Mahāmāyā. That Sthāṇu, the ugly prince, is I myself of the present. The wife of that time is now Kopi. The father of that wife is now Mahākāśyapa. Those six kings who sought by force of arms to seize her in marriage are the six heretical teachers of the present. In that former life they contended with me over beauty; I harmed them and took away their troops. Until today, because of jealousy of fame and profit, they came seeking to contest with me, yet having no true skill, they cast themselves into the water and died, and I absorbed their nine koṭi disciples to become my own disciples.
At that time King Bimbisāra again said to the Buddha: “What evil deeds did Sthāṇu commit in former times, that although he possessed considerable strenth and merit, yet his form and appearance were ugly?”
The Buddha then told the king: “All things arise from causes and conditions. In the past, immeasurable, incalculable asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, within this Jambudvīpa there was a great kingdom called Benares. In that country there was a holy mountain named Ṛṣi. At that time, within the holy mountain there was a pratyekabuddha, whose body was afflicted with a wind-illness and who required the use of oil for medicine. Therefore that pratyekabuddha went to the house of an oil-maker and asked him for oil. The oil-maker became angry with him, rebuked him with evil words, and scolded him, saying: ‘Your head is like a stump, your hands and feet are like cart axles. You do not rely on your own strength to maintain your livelihood, only waiting for others to serve you. You want oil but do not wish to buy it with money, you only want to receive it for nothing.’ Although the oil-maker became angry and reproached him, yet he gave him some dregs of oil. The pratyekabuddha accepted them, took his bowl, and departed.
Just then the wife of the oil-maker came back from outside. Seeing the pratyekabuddha, she felt deep reverence in her heart, and asked: ‘Great One! From where have you come? For what purpose are you taking these dregs of oil?’ The pratyekabuddha then truthfully told her. When the woman heard it, she became very indignant, stopped the pratyekabuddha, took his bowl, and filled it full with oil. She reproached her husband, saying: ‘This is truly your fault. How could you give dregs of oil to others? You must apologize to him and thereby remove the fault committed by your mouth!’ The oil-maker in his heart repented, and in a rough manner apologized to the Buddha. Husband and wife came to agreement and together said to the pratyekabuddha: ‘If you require oil, you may come daily to take it.’
Later the pratyekabuddha often returned to their house to take oil. Out of gratitude for their kindness, he displayed great spiritual powers before the oil-maker, flying up into the empty sky, emitting water and fire from his body, dividing and reuniting his form, manifesting various transformations. The oil-maker and his wife, seeing the wondrous transformations of the pratyekabuddha, rejoiced still more and their reverence doubled. After the husband saw the transformations of the pratyekabuddha, he said to his wife: ‘Because you gave oil in charity, when we together enjoy the reward of blessing we should also be husband and wife together.’ The woman said to her husband: ‘You reviled the Great One with evil words, and when you gave the dregs of oil, you did not have a pure mind. Therefore in the next life you will be extremely ugly. Why should I become your wife?’ The husband replied: ‘I always labor with hardship, gathering the vessels of oil. Why, when you alone give alms, do I have no share of merit? I will never listen to your words, I must become husband and wife with you.’ The wife then said: ‘If in the next life I become your wife again, when I see you being ugly, I will abandon you in the night and flee.’ The husband replied: ‘If you really flee, I will surely chase after you until I obtain you.’ When the husband and wife had thus spoken, they took refuge in body and mind before the pratyekabuddha and sincerely repented. At that time the pratyekabuddha said to the oil-maker and his wife: ‘Because you gave me oil, I was cured of my illness. Now you as husband and wife wish to seek some vow—whatever you vow, I will cause it to be fulfilled.’ The husband and wife were joyful, knelt on their knees, and vowed: ‘Wherever we may be reborn, whether among gods or among humans, may we always obtain everything as we wish.’
It was thus, great king. If you wish to know, the oil-maker of that time is none other than Sthāṇu; the wife of the oil-maker of that time is the present wife of Sthāṇu. Because at that time, when he saw the pratyekabuddha, he said that the pratyekabuddha’s head was like a stump and his hands and feet like cart axles, although he gave the dregs of oil, yet because he grew angry and spoke evil words, by this cause and condition, in his later rebirths his appearance was exceedingly ugly, just like the words by which he reviled the pratyekabuddha. And because afterward he sincerely repented and gladly gave good oil, therefore in his later rebirths he again became upright and handsome. Because he gave oil in alms, therefore in later lives he had immeasurable strength, so that among tens of millions none dared oppose him—this is the blessed reward of merit. Later he became a Wheel-Turning King, enjoying the blessings of the four quarters, with the five desires according to his heart. From this it may be seen that the retribution of good and evil karma eternally exists, and therefore all beings who are born should remember the essence of the Dharma, strictly guard body, speech, and mind, and carefully cultivate the practice of the Way.”
When the Buddha had spoken thus, King Bimbisāra together with the various kings, ministers and people, the four assemblies of disciples, devas, nāgas, ghosts, and spirits, hearing the Buddha’s words, some attained the fruit of Srotāpanna, some the fruit of Sakṛdāgāmin, some the fruit of Anāgāmin, some the fruit of Arhat. Some planted wholesome roots for pratyekabuddhahood. Some brought forth the mind of unsurpassed Great Awakening. Some abided in the stage of non-retreat. Everyone rejoiced in their hearts, paid double reverence to the Buddha, respectfully upheld the Buddha’s teaching, and cultivated the right path.
Dharma Torch 