經律異相 21
English (machine translation) 21
- Language
- English
21.1
Compiled by the Liang śramaṇas Sengmin, Baochang, and others
21.2
1. The Beginning of Devadatta's Enmity with the Buddha
2. Devadatta's Desire to Harm the Buddha and His Disciples
3. Devadatta's Erudition and Mastery of Supernormal Foot-Power for the Sole Sake of Profit and Offerings
4. Devadatta and Kokālika Praising Each Other
5. Devadatta Demanding the Sangha from the Buddha, Failing, and Losing His Followers
6. Devadatta's Former Life as a Wild Fox
7. Devadatta's Attempt to Violate Gopī and Falling Alive into Hell
8. Devadatta's Former Life as a Jackal Losing Its Life by Breaking a Pot
9. Devadatta's Former Life as a Monkey Trying to Scoop the Moon from a Well
10. Devadatta's Former Life Killing a Golden Lion
11. The Relative Severity of the Offenses of the Four Monks Including Tiṣya
12. The Monk Sunakṣatra Violating the Tathāgata and Slandering the Law of Cause and Effect
21.3
1. The Beginning of Devadatta's Enmity with the Buddha
21.4
At that time, Devadatta harbored poisonous malice and slandered the Tathāgata, claiming that he himself possessed the Path. The multitude rebuked him. Devas, nāgas, ghosts, spirits, Śakra, Brahmā, and the Four Heavenly Kings all admonished him, saying: "Your wishing to destroy the Buddha is like raising a hand wishing to cast down the sun and moon." Devadatta heard this, but his heart did not change. Then the monks fully reported the matter to the Buddha: "What deep grievance does Devadatta harbor to form such an enmity?" The Buddha told the monks, "It is not only in this life that Devadatta is like this; he has been so in life after life. In a past life, there was a brahmacārin's daughter, shapely and exquisite, peerless in appearance. According to the custom of the brahmacārins, a maiden was to be given to someone versed in the scriptures. He invited his fellow disciples, a assembly of five hundred, and made offerings to them for three months to examine their knowledge. Among the five hundred men was one who was erudite, but he was senile, decrepit, ugly-faced, and green-eyed. The parents were grieved, and the daughter was also distressed: 'How can I become the wife of this man? He is like a vengeful ghost; what can be done?' At that time, in a distant land, there was a brahmacārin who was young in years, extraordinarily handsome, intelligent, and wise. Hearing that the brahmacārin had invited his fellow students with the intention of betrothing his daughter, he immediately went there. He questioned and challenged the brahmacārins, and they were all at a loss for words; none of the five hundred possessed wisdom equal to his. The maiden's parents and the girl saw him and were filled with great joy: 'Our search for a son-in-law has now found its match!' The elder brahmacārin said, 'I am old, and she was promised to me long ago; the maiden was to be my wife. Spare me! Whatever offerings and gifts I have obtained, I will give them all to you. Pity my advanced age and do not humiliate me!' The youth replied, 'One must not transgress the rule to follow personal sentiments. I ought to take her.' When the three months were concluded, the maiden was given to the youth. The old man harbored poisonous malice in his heart, thinking: 'He has humiliated me and robbed me of my wife! In every life and every place, I will be your enemy and never let you be!' The young brahmacārin always practiced loving-kindness, while the other harbored hatred alone." The Buddha told the monks, "The elder brahmacārin of that time was the present Devadatta. The young brahmacārin was my own person. The maiden was Gopī." (Extracted from the Sheng jing, fascicle 1)
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2. Devadatta's Desire to Harm the Buddha and His Disciples
21.6
Devadatta conspired with King Ajātaśatru to harm the Buddha and his disciples. The king decreed to the people of the country that none should revere the Buddha. Thereupon Śāriputra and others, as well as Mahāprajāpatī Bhikṣuṇī and others, each took their disciples and departed for other countries. Only the Buddha, together with five hundred arhats, remained residing upon Mount Gṛdhrakūṭa. Devadatta went to the king's place and said, "The Buddha's disciples have now scattered, yet there are still five hundred disciples at the Buddha's side. May the king invite the Buddha into the city tomorrow. I shall give intoxicating drink to five hundred great elephants, make them drunk, and let them trample them to death. Then I shall become the Buddha and transform the world!" When the king heard this, he was delighted and immediately went to invite the Buddha. Knowing his plot, the Buddha replied, "Very good." The king withdrew and departed, returning to report to Devadatta. The next day at mealtime, the Buddha and the arhats entered the city gate together. The intoxicated elephants snorted through their trunks and charged forward, crashing into walls and breaking down trees, so that the entire city trembled with terror. The five hundred arhats flew into the sky; only the Venerable Ānanda remained at his side. The drunken elephants charged straight toward the Buddha with their heads aligned. The Buddha raised his five fingers, which turned into five lions roaring in unison, shaking heaven and earth. The intoxicated elephants fell prostrate to the ground, not daring to lift their heads. Their drunkenness dispelled, their tears fell, and they repented of their misdeed. The king, his ministers, and the common people were all filled with awe and reverence. The Bhagavat advanced slowly onto the king's palace hall, and after finishing the meal with the arhats, pronounced verses of blessing. The king addressed the Buddha, saying: "My nature is benighted; I believed those slanderous words and brought about this rebellious evil. May you bestow your great compassion and forgive my delusion and folly!" The Buddha told Ajātaśatru and the great assembly: "There are eight conditions in the world that give rise to slanders, all stemming from repute and leading to grave offenses. What are the eight? Gain and decline, disgrace and fame, praise and blame, suffering and pleasure. From antiquity to the present, few are not deluded by them." The Buddha then spoke verses (omitted due to their length). The Buddha said: "In the past, there was a king who liked to eat goose meat. He constantly sent a hunter to spread nets to catch geese, delivering one goose each day to supply the king's food. At that time, there was a king of geese who led five hundred geese flying down in search of food. The king of geese fell into the net and was captured by the hunter. The other geese flew up in alarm and hovered about, refusing to leave. At that time, one goose repeatedly circled and pursued him, heedless of bows and arrows, crying mournfully and spitting blood, ceasing neither day nor night. The hunter saw this, was moved to pity by its loyalty, and immediately released the goose king, allowing them to follow each other away. The flock of geese, having regained their king, circled him joyfully. Then the hunter reported the full matter to the king. The king was moved by its loyalty and resolved never to catch geese again. The goose king of that time was my own person. The single goose was Ānanda. The flock of five hundred geese are now the five hundred arhats. The king who ate goose meat is now the Great King. The hunter of that time is now Devadatta. Since past lives, he has constantly sought to harm me; by the power of great compassion, I was delivered because of it. Without harboring resentment or evil, I naturally attained Buddhahood." The king and all his ministers were overjoyed. (Extracted from the Faju jing, fascicle 4)
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3. Devadatta's Erudition and Mastery of Supernormal Foot-Power for the Sole Sake of Profit and Offerings
21.8
In the past, there was a monk named Devadatta, intelligent and widely learned. For twelve years he sat in meditation and entered samādhi without his mind shifting or changing. The twelve dhūta practices he never failed to maintain. He aroused the contemplation of impurity and comprehended inhalation and exhalation, distinguishing worldly supreme dharmas up to the peak stage one by one. The Buddhist scriptures he could recite amounted to sixty thousand [gāthās], more than an elephant could carry. Later, his resolve slackened and evil thoughts gradually arose; he yearned for offerings from others and became attached to worldly gain. He went to the Bhagavat, bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, stood to one side, and addressed the Buddha, saying: 'Indeed, Bhagavat, may you preach the way of psychic powers (ṛddhipāda)! When I have heard this, I shall practice it well, and having attained psychic powers, I shall travel to other regions to transform and teach everywhere.' The Bhagavat told him: 'Set aside psychic powers for now. Why not learn the four truths—impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and non-self?' At that time, the monk Devadatta formed this thought: 'The reason the Tathāgata does not preach psychic powers to me is out of fear that someone might surpass him, feeling ashamed to be inferior.' Thereupon Devadatta left the Tathāgata and went to Śāriputra to seek the way of psychic powers. Then Śāriputra said to Devadatta: 'Set that aside for now. Why not cultivate the four [truths of] impermanence?' Devadatta thought: 'This Śāriputra is foremost in wisdom, yet as I see him, he is like a firefly compared to the sun and moon! Among what I recite and study, none is my equal, yet even I do not yet understand the way of psychic powers—how much less could Śāriputra understand it?' He immediately left and went to Maudgalyāyana to seek the way of psychic powers. Maudgalyāyana said to him: 'Stop, stop, Devadatta! A beginner should first learn the four [truths of] impermanence, and then must diligently cultivate the four dhyānas; only then will you attain the way of psychic powers.' Devadatta became furious: 'This Maudgalyāyana boasts that his psychic powers are unequaled! The reason he will not give it to me is that he fears being inferior to me; if I attain it, he will lose his fame. Now I have sought the way of psychic powers everywhere, and none will teach me. My younger brother Ānanda has heard much and is widely learned, possessing all virtues; I should now go and ask him.' He said to Ānanda: 'I have heard that you well understand the way of psychic powers. Please explain it to me. Once I have attained psychic powers, I will travel to other regions to transform and teach everywhere.' Then Ānanda explained it to him. Having heard it, Devadatta went to a quiet and secluded place, concentrated his mind with single focus, proceeding from the coarse to the subtle and then rising from the subtle back to the coarse. Using his mind he lifted his body, and using his body he lifted his mind; body and mind merged, and he gradually rose from the ground—at first the height of a sesame seed, then like a walnut, gradually rising from the ground: from the ground to the couch, from the couch to the roof, and from the roof into the empty sky. In the open sky he performed the eighteen transformations, surging forth and disappearing at will. He transformed himself into an infant child, handsome in appearance, with five tufts of hair on his head and a face like a peach blossom. Sitting upon the lap of Crown Prince Ajātaśatru, he now laughed and now cried, displaying the mannerisms of a baby. Yet the prince knew it was Devadatta's body; he played with him all day without weariness, kissing and licking his spittle, or lifting his body and passing him from left hand to right hand. The prince thought: 'Devadatta's psychic powers surpass those of Gautama; he can perform countless transformations!' Ajātaśatru daily provided five hundred cauldrons of food, making offerings in season without letting him lack anything. At that time, many monks saw Ajātaśatru supplying Devadatta and reported everything to the Bhagavat. The Buddha told the monks: 'You should not covet Devadatta's offerings. Devadatta brings ruin upon himself and upon others as well; both will fall into sin. It is like the plantain tree: a foolish man seeks fruit from it but can gain nothing; the bamboo and reed are also like this; when a mule conceives, both lives are lost. In the past, there was a flock of vultures, each brooding over its young. A vulture warned its chick, saying: "When you learn to fly suspended in the sky, and you look down at the earth and see it like a plate, take care not to fly any higher! There is the Vairomba wind that will harm you, scattering your head, brain, and limbs in different places." Then the chick did not obey its father's instruction, flew beyond measure, was blown by the wind, and lost its life in scattered pieces. You monks should not give rise to such thoughts! Monks, you should know: it is like a family of turtles, whose parent told its offspring: "Protect yourselves and do not go to a certain place! There is a hunter there who will capture your bodies and cut them into five parts." Then the young turtles did not follow these words; they went to that place to amuse themselves together, and were captured by the hunter. Some of them safely managed to return. The parent turtle asked its young: "Where did you come from?" The offspring reported to their parents: "We went together to that place to see it. We saw no hunter, only a long cord chasing behind us." The turtle said to its young: "This cord has pursued you since long ago! Your ancestors and parents all perished because of this cord!" Monks, you should know: it is like a jackal that watches day and night for feces, and having eaten the dung of beasts, defecates again itself. The monk Devadatta greedily seeking offerings is also like this. In the past, in the realm of the Great Yuezhi, the custom was always to fry wheat in butter and feed it to pigs. At that time, an official foal said to its mother: "We exert our strength for the king, counting neither near nor far, answering all his commands. Yet we are fed with straw and chaff, and given muddy water to drink." The mare told her foal: "Take care not to give rise to this thought or envy their butter-fried wheat! Before long, proof will appear on its own." When the festival approached and the New Year was nearly at hand, every household bound the pigs and threw them into cauldrons of boiling water, and they cried out loudly. The mare told her foal: "Do you still remember the butter-fried wheat? If you want to know the proof, you may go and look." The foals, knowing the truth of it, then understood the nature of that fried treatment; when eating grass, even if they encountered wheat again, they took care not to eat it.' The Buddha spoke a verse:
21.9
The plantain dies by its fruit; / so too the fruit of the bamboo and reed. / The mule perishes by its pregnancy; / a man destroys himself through greed. (Extracted from the Chuyao jing, Fascicle 10)
21.10
Section 4: Devadatta and Kokālika Praise One Another
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The Buddha told the monks: 'Devadatta is treacherous and depraved, yet they improperly praise each other. The monk Kokālika praises Devadatta, and Devadatta likewise praises Kokālika. Between those two persons there is neither justice nor principle.' The monks, having heard this, said: 'Indeed, O Great Sage! Looking at the monk Kokālika: he long relied on the true scriptures, was conditioned by the Vinaya teachings, and went forth out of faith; yet he improperly praises Devadatta, and Devadatta praises Kokālika, both taking wrong as right and right as wrong.' The Buddha said: 'This sort of fool was like this in past lives as well. In a past life, when a eunuch died, his corpse was abandoned among ailanthus trees. At that time, a jackal and a crow came together to eat the flesh, and they praised each other. The bird said:
21.12
Your body is like that of a lion, / your head resembles an immortal's; / your fatness is like the king of deer— / how excellent, like a lovely flower!
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The jackal praised him in return:
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Exalted one perched in the tree, / your wisdom is the foremost; / shining brightly across the ten directions, / like a mound of purple-burnished gold.
21.15
Thus they went back and forth. At that time, a great immortal said: "They improperly praise each other; their words are empty and devoid of truth." The jackal was Devadatta, the bird was Kokālika, and the immortal was the Bodhisattva.' (Extracted from the Fo shuo guhu niao jing).
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Section 5: Devadatta Demands the Order from the Buddha, Fails to Obtain It, and Instead Loses His Own Retinue
21.17
Devadatta went to the Bhagavat, bowed his head to the feet, stood to one side, and addressed the Buddha, saying, "I observe that the Tathāgata's complexion has altered, his faculties are fully matured, his years have passed youth and vigour, and he is decaying toward old age. I wish only that the Bhagavat would sequester himself in a quiet chamber to take pleasure in dhyāna. May you entrust the assembly of the fourfold community to me. I shall teach and guide them with precepts, no differently from the Buddha, and supply the four requisites at all times without deficiency." The Buddha said, "Silence, foolish man! You do not consider future calamity. I would not even entrust them to the monks Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana; how much less could I entrust the holy assembly to an idle, wicked person like you?" Jealousy arose within Devadatta, and hearing the Bhagavat's words, his anger redoubled: "Today the Tathāgata praises the monks Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, yet despises and disparages me, his lesser disciple. I must seek an opportunity to destroy master and disciple, so that the sentient beings of this realm will neither see his form nor hear his voice." Thereupon the monk Devadatta rose from his seat, bowed to the feet, and withdrew. Wandering everywhere with clever talk and deceitful words, he deluded laypeople and lured dozens, everywhere encouraging one another. To state the essence: the Buddha was surrounded by the great assembly, expounding the Dharma. Then Devadatta told his disciples, "Do not listen to what Gautama preaches; it does not accord with the true Dharma. I have profound scriptures and sublime doctrines, each and every one, which I will teach you." He merely sought an expedient means, wishing to split the holy assembly. The Buddha said, "Stop, stop, Devadatta! Take care not to harbor the thought of splitting and throwing the holy assembly into confusion! Afterwards you will suffer retribution in full, and the pain will be unbearable." Devadatta was obstinate and would not reform, though he knew the Buddha's intent was righteous. The Buddha, observing past causal conditions and karmic retributions, knew it could not be turned back. Devadatta led five hundred disciples, and the Tathāgata also led five hundred disciples, together traveling by Mount Ratnakūṭa. The Bodhisattva's followers were magnanimous, benevolent, gentle, and peaceful; he taught them with the true Dharma, and they observed the prohibitions, their coming and going, advancing and stopping, never violating proper order. Devadatta's assembly spoke coarse and harsh words; whenever they spoke, anger flared up, and they conversed with disciples as if quarreling with enemies. Disgusted and weary, the disciples all abandoned him together and went to the Bodhisattva. He furthermore proclaimed of himself, "I have a thousand disciples, complete in all virtues, far surpassing the world—who could match me?" Devadatta was enraged, and he made a vow: "This man today lures away my disciples and ruins my followers! Even if he attains Buddhahood, I will ruin his disciples and followers, no differently from now!" The Tathāgata observed and knew that Devadatta would certainly split the holy assembly, beyond any doubt. The Tathāgata then arose from his seat, left the assembly, and departed. There are five matters by which one knows the saṅgha cannot be split and thrown into confusion: first, before the Tathāgata's eyes, because the Tathāgata's majestic spiritual power does not abandon his original vow; second, after the Tathāgata's parinirvāṇa, if someone claims, 'I have now attained Buddhahood and achieved the supreme, correct enlightenment,' one should ask him, 'Where were you when Śākyamuni Buddha was in the world?'; third, when there is no unprecedented evil; fourth, when monks do not contend for material gain; fifth, when disciples endowed with wisdom and spiritual power are in harmony. The Tathāgata, observing with the knowledge of past lives, knew with certainty that Devadatta would split and throw the saṅgha into confusion. The Tathāgata then left and departed. Devadatta remained behind, expounding the Dharma to the assembly: "If any sentient being serves me as the honoured one and accepts my teaching and precepts, they should practice the five dharmas (these five dharmas are not recorded here due to their extensive text). All monks who cultivate these five dharmas will swiftly attain liberation, exhaust defilements, and become undefiled. Why rely on Gautama's eightfold straight path?" He said to Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, "I have gained great benefit, becoming the honoured one of the three realms, like the Tathāgata." He told Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, "I suffer from back pain and wish to sleep for a short while. You two preach the Dharma to the holy assembly." Devadatta lay on his right side, wishing to fall asleep. A god pressed upon Devadatta, so his left side lay on the ground, and the god pressed on him again; he spoke deceitful words, snoring loudly, and a foul stench drifted far. Maudgalyāyana, using the power of spiritual travel, flew into the air and performed eighteen transformations, sitting, lying down, walking, emerging, and sinking at will. Śāriputra addressed the gathered assembly: "The spiritual power and virtue of the Tathāgata's body are immeasurable, endowed with all-knowledge; his reach into the past is infinite, and his reach into the future is boundless. As for the Tathāgata's Dharma, one gains the reward of the present Dharma—joyful and unconditioned. It is what the wise cultivate and study, not what the foolish practice. As for the Tathāgata's holy assembly, they have all accomplished the five-part Dharmakāya, worthy of reverence and honour, service and offerings, serving as a superior field of merit for sentient beings." Then the monks each thought: "We were foolish and deluded, not recognizing the true and correct, abandoning the fruit for the blossom, discarding the root to chase the branches. Now seeing what the two worthies have preached, it is rare in the world! Wouldn't it be joyful if we were rather to leave this Devadatta and go to the Tathāgata's assembly?" Śāriputra knew their thoughts and immediately arose from his seat; the five hundred monks all followed him, and Maudgalyāyana followed along behind them as they departed. The monk Kokālika kicked Devadatta with his right foot and said, "Wicked Devadatta, why are you indulging in sleep? Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana have taken all your disciples away!" Devadatta awoke, deeply grieved and distressed. (From the Sūtra on Devadatta Inquiring of the Buddha's Complexion; the Mahīśāsaka-vinaya is largely the same.)
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6. Devadatta in a Past Life as a Wild Fox
21.19
Long ago in the past, there was a young brāhmaṇa (māṇava; in the Liang language, a 'hermit-sage') in a mountain cave reciting kṣatriya texts. There was a wild fox that went to his side, listened intently to his recitation, and understood something in its mind. It had this thought: 'Since I understand the words of this book, I am fit to be the king among beasts.' It then arose and roamed about. Meeting an emaciated wild fox, it wished to kill it. The other said, 'Why kill me?' It replied, 'I am the king of beasts. You do not submit to me.' The other said, 'Please do not kill me; I will follow you.' Thereupon the two foxes roamed together. Meeting another fox, the exchange went as above. In this manner it progressively subdued all the foxes, then used the pack of foxes to subdue all the elephants, used the herd of elephants to subdue all the tigers, and used the pack of tigers to subdue all the lions. Thus it opportunistically became the king among beasts. It then had this thought: 'As I am the king of beasts, I should not take a beast for my wife.' It then mounted a white elephant and made the beasts surround the kingdom of Kāśī hundreds of thousands of times. The king sent an envoy to inquire, 'Why do you do this?' The wild fox replied, 'I am the king of beasts. I should marry your daughter. If you do not give her to me, I will destroy your kingdom.' The envoy returned and reported to the king. The king assembled his ministers to deliberate; except for one minister, all said she should be given: 'What the kingdom relies on is only elephants and horses. We have elephants and horses, while they have lions. When our elephants and horses catch their scent, they fall to the ground in terror. In battle we will certainly be no match. Why begrudge one girl and lose an entire kingdom?' At that time, a minister of keen intellect and farsighted strategy addressed the king, saying, 'In reviewing past and present, I have never heard of or seen a human king's daughter given to a lowly beast. Though I am weak and unenlightened, I will surely kill this fox and cause the beasts to scatter and flee.' The king then questioned him, and the minister replied, 'Your Majesty need only send an envoy to fix a date for battle, and ask one request of him: make the lions fight first and roar later. Thinking we are afraid, he will certainly make the lions roar first and fight later. When the day of battle arrives, Your Majesty should order all within the city to plug their ears.' The king followed his words and then marched the army out. When the battle formations were about to engage, the wild fox indeed ordered the lions to roar first. Hearing it, the wild fox's heart split into seven pieces, and it fell from the elephant to the ground. The beasts scattered and fled. The Buddha spoke a verse:
21.20
"The wild fox's arrogance surged,
Wishing to seek its entourage.
Reaching the city of Kāśī,
It claimed to be the king of beasts.
Arrogant humans are also like this:
Currently commanding a following,
In the kingdom of Magadha,
Styling himself master of the Dharma."
21.21
The Buddha told the monks, "The king of Kāśī at that time was myself; the keenly intelligent minister was Śāriputra; and the wild fox king was Devadatta." (From 'The Wild Fox Seeking a Princess,' from the Mahīśāsaka-vinaya, fascicle 4.)
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7. Devadatta Desiring to Violate Gopī and Entering Hell in His Physical Body
21.23
Devadatta was in Rājagṛha, plotting murder in his mind, and later the matter was exposed. Then King Ajātaśatru said to Devadatta, "You should leave the kingdom; you must not stay here. None among the sixteen great kingdoms fails to hear that Devadatta commits evil against the Tathāgata." Having heard this, Devadatta harboured grief within. Ensnared by resentment, he returned to his home country and insolently entered the Bodhisattva's inner palace, saying to Gopī, "I wish to install you as my foremost lady; I wonder if the holy lady will permit it?" Gopī said to him, "Extend your right hand; I wish to hold it." Devadatta stretched out his hand and let her grasp it. She crushed his wrist bone and blood came from his five fingers; at that moment he fell unconscious and revived only after a long time. Then Devadatta went further into the palace and sat upon the Bodhisattva's couch. When the palace attendants saw him, they seized and threw him off the couch, injuring his left hip so that he could not walk. He was carried on a litter back to his residence. The Śākyas all despised him and came to tell him, "You should now go to the Buddha and repent." Hearing this, Devadatta secretly devised a clever deceit: he made iron claws in secret and smeared them with deadly poison, looking gentle on the outside while harbouring fury within. At that time Devadatta recalled the Buddha's words: "The śramaṇa Gautama always says this: 'One whose body is without wounds is not harmed by poison; poison cannot affect what has no wound; without evil, nothing is created.' I will now go, pretending to repent, scratch and tear his feet with my claws, and when the poisonous vapour spreads, he will naturally meet his death." Men carried him on a litter to the Bhagavat. Twenty-one fathoms away, he told the attendants, "Put me down on the ground; I wish to walk." As soon as he was put on the ground, leaping flames boiled forth, wrapped around his body, and dragged him down into hell. (From the Sūtra on Devadatta Entering Hell in His Physical Body.)
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8. Devadatta in the Past as a Jackal Breaking Pots and Losing Its Life
21.25
The Buddha was dwelling in Rājagṛha. At that time, Devadatta wished to split the harmonious saṅgha; the monks admonished him three times, yet he would not stop. The Buddha said, "In the past, in the kingdom of Vārāṇasī, there was a brāhmaṇa who set up a public charity well in the wilderness to supply travelers. When the day was drawing to dusk, a pack of jackals came to drink the leftover water. The jackal king would not drink the water on the ground; he put his head into a pitcher to drink. Having drunk the water, he raised the pitcher high on his head and smashed it. The jackals spoke kindly to him, but he would not accept their advice. In this manner, not once [but many times], he broke fourteen pitchers. Then the brāhmaṇa watched and saw the jackal, so he made a wooden pitcher, sturdy and hard to break, easy to enter but hard to exit, placed it beside the well, and waited with a staff. The jackals gathered, and the king drank as before, but when he threw it to the ground, he could not break it. Then the brāhmaṇa came out holding his staff and beat the jackal to death. The jackal king at that time was this Devadatta today; the pack of jackals at that time were these monks who admonished Devadatta today." (From the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya, fascicle 8.)
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9. Devadatta in the Past as a Monkey Fetching the Moon from a Well
21.27
The Buddha was dwelling in Rājagṛha. At that time, the monks performed the censure act (utkṣepana-karman) against Devadatta. The group of six monks shared Devadatta's words and views. The Buddha told the monks: "In the past, in a secluded spot, five hundred monkeys roamed in a forest. They came to a nyagrodha tree beneath which was a well, and in the well was the reflection of the moon. Then the monkey king saw this reflection of the moon and said to his companions, 'The moon has died and fallen, landing in the well! We should pull it out together, so the world will not remain in long darkness.' They deliberated together, asking how they could pull it out. The monkey king said, 'I know the method to pull it out: I will hold the tree branch, you hold my tail, and linking one to another, we can pull it out.' Then the monkeys followed the king's words, holding each other in succession. Just before reaching the water, the weight of the linked monkeys proved too heavy; the weak tree branch snapped, and all the monkeys fell into the well water. The monkey king at that time was this Devadatta today; the other monkeys at that time were the group of six monks today." (From the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya, fascicle 8.)
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10. Devadatta in a Past Life Killing a Golden Lion
21.29
The Buddha told Ānanda, "If a sentient being arouses a single hateful thought toward the Buddhas of the three periods of time and their like, or toward pratyekabuddhas, arhats, or persons wearing dyed robes—the various śramaṇas—they incur boundless sin. Why is this? Dyed robes are the mark and insignia of the wise and noble. If one can resolve in one's mind to revere those in dyed robes, one obtains immeasurable merit. It was by virtue of faithfully revering and upholding them that I attained buddhahood." Ānanda addressed the Buddha, "How did this past reverence come about?" The Buddha told Ānanda, "Countless kalpas ago in the distant past, there was a great kingdom in this Jambudvīpa (the *Bao'en jing* says the kingdom of Vārāṇasī). Its king, named Tibi (Devī?), ruled over eighty-four thousand petty kings. The Buddha's Dharma did not exist in the world then. There was a pratyekabuddha sitting in meditation and practicing the Way deep in the mountains. At that time, the wild beasts all came close to him. There was a lion named *Jian-jia-luo-bi* (in the Liang language, 'Firm Vow'), whose body was golden and shone brilliantly with marks of radiant light. He ate fruits and grazed on grass, harming no living being. At that time, a hunter shaved his head, put on a kāṣāya, concealed a bow and arrows on his person, and traveled through the marshland. Seeing the lion asleep (the *Bao'en jing* says licking a monk's feet), he shot him with a poisoned arrow. The lion awoke startled and was about to charge and kill him, but seeing that he wore a kāṣāya, he reflected to himself: 'These dyed robes are the mark of good people. If I harm him, it would be directing a hateful thought toward the wise and noble.' Thinking thus, he stood down. The arrow's poison circulated internally, and his life would not last long. Thereupon he spoke a gāthā: *ye-luo-po-she-sha-po-he*. When he uttered these words, heaven and earth shook violently, and blood rained from a cloudless sky. The gods were terrified; looking with the divine eye, they saw the hunter kill the lion, and they rained down heavenly flowers to make offerings to its corpse. The hunter then skinned the lion and offered the hide to King Tibi. The king reflected, 'The scriptures say that if a beast is golden, it must be a bodhisattva.' He asked the hunter, 'What auspicious omens occurred when the lion died?' He answered as above. Hearing these words, the king was filled with mingled grief and joy, and his faith grew all the firmer. He immediately summoned his ministers, elders, and wise men, ordering them to explain this meaning. At that time, in an empty forest, there was an ascetic named Shamo (Śama) who explained it to the king: 'The meaning of *ye-luo* is that by merely shaving one's head and wearing dyed robes, one will swiftly attain liberation from birth and death. *Po-she-sha* means that these are all the marks of the wise and noble, approaching nirvāṇa. *Po-he* means that one will be revered and looked up to by all gods and people of the world.' When the ascetic had explained these words, Tibi rejoiced. He at once summoned all the kings to assemble there, constructed a carriage of seven precious jewels, spread the lion's skin upon it to display to all, and together they revered it, burning incense and scattering flowers in offering. Later, he also beat gold into a coffin, placed the lion's skin inside, and erected a stūpa for it. At that time, because the lion gave rise to a wholesome mind toward the wearer of the dyed robes, he became a wheel-turning sage king for ten billion kalpas." The Buddha told Ānanda, "The lion at that time was myself. The king of the country was the present Maitreya. The ascetic was the present Śāriputra. The hunter was the present Devadatta." (Extracted from the thirteenth fascicle of the *Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish*)
21.30
The Differing Severity of the Punishments of the Four Monks, Tiṣya and the Others, 11
21.31
The Bhagavat was in the city of Śrāvastī, at the Jetavana, Anāthapiṇḍada's park. He addressed the monks, "There are four great Nirayas (hells). First, the great Niraya of Tiṣya: flames issuing from his body are twenty cubits long. Second, the great Niraya of Kokālika: flames issuing from his body are thirty cubits long. Third, the great Niraya of Devadatta: flames issuing from his body are forty cubits long. Fourth, the great Niraya of Maskarin: flames issuing from his body are sixty cubits long. If there are people who, wishing to seek relief [for him] and obtain a breeze for him, were to pour the water of twenty great oceans upon his body, that ocean water would be exhausted and the fire still not extinguished. It is like molten copper: if someone were to pour twenty ocean drops of water onto molten copper, the water drops would vanish instantly, yet the flames of the monk Tiṣya would not be extinguished. If there were someone who wished to seek relief [for him] and achieve its purpose, and again poured twenty great oceans of water upon his body, that water would vanish swiftly. The monk Tiṣya, a foolish man, hindered the monastic Saṅgha so that they were unable to eat for a day; this caused the monk Tiṣya to enter the great hell. As for the monk Kokālika, if someone wished to bring him relief and achieve its purpose, pouring ocean water upon his body, that ocean water would vanish swiftly. It is like copper that has been melted for two days: if someone puts [the water of] thirty oceans into the molten copper, it is completely consumed. Kokālika the monk was a foolish man; if someone were to arise wishing to bring him relief, and poured thirty great oceans of water upon his body, the water of the great oceans would vanish swiftly. Kokālika the monk, a foolish man, slandered the monks Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, and when his body broke up at the end of life, he was born in the three evil destinies, falling into the Padma hell. The monk Kokālika entered the great Niraya. As for the great Niraya of Devadatta, if someone wished to bring him relief, and again poured forty great oceans of water upon his body, those great oceans would vanish swiftly, yet that fire would not be extinguished. It is like copper that has been melted for three days: if someone puts forty drops of water into the molten copper, it is instantly consumed without remainder. Devadatta was a foolish man; if someone were to arise wishing to bring him relief, pouring forty great oceans of water upon his body, that ocean water would vanish swiftly, yet that fire would not be extinguished. Why is this? Devadatta, a foolish man, wished to harm the Tathāgata, killed an arhat nun, and brought discord and ruin to the monastic Saṅgha; when his body broke up at the end of life, he was born into the three evil destinies, in the Avīci hell. The monk Devadatta entered the great hell, and flames issuing from his body are forty cubits long. Monks, as for the great Niraya of Maskarin: if someone wished to bring him relief and poured sixty great oceans of water upon his body, the ocean water would vanish swiftly, yet that fire would not be extinguished. It is like copper that has been melted for four days: if someone puts sixty drops of water into the molten copper, it is instantly consumed. Maskarin is just like this: if one pours sixty great oceans of water upon his body, the great ocean water vanishes swiftly, but this fire is not extinguished. This Maskarin, a foolish man, taught a hundred koṭis of people, causing them to practice wrong views." (Extracted from the *Sūtra on the Four Nirayas*)
21.32
The Monk Sunakkhatta Violates the Tathāgata and Slanders [the Teaching by Denying] Cause and Effect, 12
21.33
The Buddha said, "At one time, I was staying in the city of Rājagṛha, and the monk Sunakkhatta was my attendant. In the early night, I was expounding the essentials of the Dharma to Śakra, King of the Gods. According to the rule for disciples, one should sleep only after the master. At that time, Sunakkhatta, because I had been sitting for so long, gave rise to evil thoughts in his mind. Now in the city of Rājagṛha, when young boys and girls cried unceasingly, their parents would say, 'If you do not stop, we will hand you over to the Vakkula ghost.' Thereupon Sunakkhatta, in reverse fashion being gripped by delusions, said to me, 'Enter the meditation chamber quickly; Vakkula has come!' Śakra said, 'Bhagavat, can such people also enter the Buddha's Dharma?' I said, 'He too possesses buddha-nature and will attain unexcelled bodhi. Although I preach the Dharma for Sunakkhatta, he has no mind to believe and accept it at all.' When I was in the city of Śivapura in the country of Kāśi, Sunakkhatta was my attendant. When I entered the city to beg for food, countless sentient beings, empty of pride and thirsting with longing, wished to see my footprints; Sunakkhatta followed behind me, obliterating them. But failing to obliterate them, he only caused sentient beings to give rise to unwholesome thoughts. After I entered the city, I saw a Nirgrantha in a tavern, curled up and crouching on the ground, eating wine dregs. Sunakkhatta said, 'If there are arhats in the world, this man is supreme. Why? What this man preaches is that there is neither cause nor effect.' I said, 'Foolish man, have you not always heard that an arhat does not drink wine, does not harm people, does not deceive, and does not steal or commit sexual misconduct? A person such as this kills his parents and eats wine dregs; how can you say he is an arhat? When this person gives up his body, he is bound to fall into the Avīci hell. An arhat has severed the three evil destinies forever; how can you say he is an arhat?' Sunakkhatta immediately said, 'The nature of the four great elements may well change, but to say that this man is bound to fall into Avīci is impossible.' I said, 'Foolish man, have you not always heard that the true words of the Buddhas and Tathāgatas are never twofold?' Although I preached the Dharma for him, he had no mind to believe and accept it. Good sons, when Sunakkhatta and I were staying in Rājagṛha, there was a Nirgrantha named Kudatta (Suffering-Gained), who constantly made this statement: 'The defilements of sentient beings have no cause or condition, and the liberation of sentient beings also has no cause or condition.' Sunakkhatta said, 'If there are arhats in the world, Kudatta is foremost.' I said, 'Foolish man, the Nirgrantha Kudatta is truly not an arhat; he does not understand the path of an arhat.' Sunakkhatta again said, 'Why does an arhat give rise to jealousy toward an arhat?' I said, 'Foolish man, I give rise to no jealousy toward an arhat; rather, it is you yourself who give rise to evil, wrong views. If you say Kudatta is an arhat: seven days from now, he will suffer from indigestion, die of abdominal pain, and be born among the vomit-eating pretas. His fellow practitioners will carry his corpse and lay it in the cold forest (śītavana).' Sunakkhatta immediately said to the Nirgrantha, 'Venerable, reflect carefully and employ every expedient means; make the Bhagavat fall into false speech!' Kudatta fasted from the first day up to the sixth day. When seven days were fulfilled, he ate dark treacle and drank cold water, died of abdominal pain, and his fellow practitioners carried his corpse and placed it in the cold forest. He then assumed the form of a vomit-eating hungry ghost and stood beside his corpse. Sunakkhatta went to the cold forest and saw Kudatta's corpse. Sunakkhatta spoke to him, 'Venerable, are you dead?' Kudatta replied, 'I am already dead.' 'How did you die?' He replied, 'I died of abdominal pain.' 'Who carried your corpse out?' He replied, 'My fellow practitioners.' 'Where was it carried and placed?' He replied, 'Foolish man, do you not recognize that this is the cold forest?' 'What kind of body have you obtained?' He replied, 'I have obtained the body of a vomit-eating preta.' Sunakkhatta said [to the Buddha], 'Bhagavat, the Nirgrantha Kudatta has been born in the Thirty-three Heavens.' I said, 'Foolish man, an arhat has no place of rebirth; how can you say Kudatta was born in the Thirty-three Heavens?' When the Tathāgata, together with Kāśyapa, went to where Sunakkhatta was, Sunakkhatta saw them from afar and gave rise to an evil, wrong mind; in his living body, he sank down into the earth and fell into the Avīci hell. It is like someone submerged in a cesspool: a good friend reaches in with his hand to feel for him, wishing to pull him out if he can grasp his hair, but after searching for a long time without finding it, he gives up. I am also like this: searching for the slightest wholesome root in Sunakkhatta so as to rescue him, searching all day long, I could not find even as much as the tip of a hair. Therefore, I could not pull him out of hell." (Extracted from the thirty-seventh fascicle of the *Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra*)
21.34
Diverse Phenomena from the Sūtras and Vinaya, Fascicle 21
Linked texts (1)
- 經律異相 — Classical Chinese