5 : Human Foibles

§ 5.1  “Once, monks, in this same Sāvatthī, there was a lady of a household named Vedehikā. This good report about Lady Vedehikā had circulated: ‘Lady Vedehikā is gentle. Lady Vedehikā is even-tempered. Lady Vedehikā is calm.’ Now, Lady Vedehikā had a slave named Kālī who was diligent, deft, & neat in her work. The thought occurred to Kālī the slave, ‘This good report about my Lady Vedehikā has circulated: “Lady Vedehikā is even-tempered. Lady Vedehikā is gentle. Lady Vedehikā is calm.” Now, is anger present in my lady without showing, or is it absent? Or is it just because I’m diligent, deft, & neat in my work that the anger present in my lady doesn’t show? Why don’t I test her?’

“So Kālī the slave got up after daybreak. Then Lady Vedehikā said to her: ‘Hey, Kālī!’

“‘Yes, madam?’

“‘Why did you get up after daybreak?’

“‘No reason, madam.’

“‘No reason, you wicked slave, and yet you get up after daybreak?’ Angered & displeased, she scowled.

Then the thought occurred to Kālī the slave: ‘Anger is present in my lady without showing, and not absent. And it’s just because I’m diligent, deft, & neat in my work that the anger present in my lady doesn’t show. Why don’t I test her some more?’

“So Kālī the slave got up later in the day. Then Lady Vedehikā said to her: ‘Hey, Kālī!’

“‘Yes, madam?’

“‘Why did you get up later in the day?’

“‘No reason, madam.’

“‘No reason, you wicked slave, and yet you get up later in the day?’ Angered & displeased, she grumbled.

Then the thought occurred to Kālī the slave: ‘Anger is present in my lady without showing, and not absent. And it’s just because I’m diligent, deft, & neat in my work that the anger present in my lady doesn’t show. Why don’t I test her some more?’

“So Kālī the slave got up even later in the day. Then Lady Vedehikā said to her: ‘Hey, Kālī!’

“‘Yes, madam?’

“‘Why did you get up even later in the day?’

“‘No reason, madam.’

“‘No reason, you wicked slave, and yet you get up even later in the day?’ Angered & displeased, she grabbed hold of a rolling pin and gave her a whack over the head, cutting it open.

Then Kālī the slave, with blood streaming from her cut-open head, went and denounced her mistress to the neighbors: ‘See, ladies, the gentle one’s handiwork? See the even-tempered one’s handiwork? See the calm one’s handiwork? How could she, angered & displeased with her only slave for getting up after daybreak, grab hold of a rolling pin and give her a whack over the head, cutting it open?’

“After that this evil report about Lady Vedehikā circulated: ‘Lady Vedehikā is vicious. Lady Vedehikā is foul-tempered. Lady Vedehikā is violent.’

“In the same way, monks, a monk may be ever so gentle, ever so even-tempered, ever so calm, as long as he is not touched by disagreeable aspects of speech. But it is only when disagreeable aspects of speech touch him that he can truly be known as gentle, even-tempered, & calm. I don’t call a monk easy to admonish if he is easy to admonish and makes himself easy to admonish only by reason of robes, almsfood, lodging, & medicinal requisites for curing the sick. Why is that? Because if he doesn’t get robes, almsfood, lodging, & medicinal requisites for curing the sick, then he isn’t easy to admonish and doesn’t make himself easy to admonish. But if a monk is easy to admonish and makes himself easy to admonish purely out of esteem for the Dhamma, respect for the Dhamma, reverence for the Dhamma, then I call him easy to admonish. Thus, monks, you should train yourselves: ‘We will be easy to admonish and make ourselves easy to admonish purely out of esteem for the Dhamma, respect for the Dhamma, reverence for the Dhamma.’ That’s how you should train yourselves.” — MN 21

§ 5.2  “Monks, gains, offerings, & fame are a cruel thing, a harsh, bitter obstacle to the attainment of the unexcelled rest from bondage. Suppose there were a beetle, a dung-eater, full of dung, gorged with dung, with a huge pile of dung in front of him. He, because of that, would look down on other beetles: ‘Yes, sirree! I am a dung-eater, full of dung, gorged with dung, with a huge pile of dung in front of me!’ In the same way, there is the case where a certain monk—conquered by gains, offerings, & fame, his mind consumed—adjusts his lower robe and, taking his bowl & outer robe, goes into a village or town for alms. Having eaten there as much as he likes—full of almsfood & invited again for the next day—he goes to the monastery and, in the midst of a group of monks, boasts, ‘I have eaten as much as I like, I am full of almsfood & have been invited again for tomorrow. I am a recipient of robes, almsfood, lodgings, & medicinal requisites for curing illness. These other monks, though, have next to no merit, next to no influence. They aren’t recipients of robes, almsfood, lodgings, & medicinal requisites for curing illness.’ Conquered by gains, offerings, & fame, his mind consumed, he looks down on other well-behaved monks. That will be for this worthless man’s long-term suffering & harm. That’s how cruel gains, offerings, & fame are: a harsh, bitter obstacle to the attainment of the unexcelled rest from bondage.

“So you should train yourselves: ‘We will put aside any gains, offerings, & fame that have arisen; and we will not let any gains, offerings, & fame that have arisen keep our minds consumed.’ That’s how you should train yourselves.” — SN 17:5

§ 5.3  “Once, monks, a large family of turtles had lived for a long time in a certain freshwater lake. Then one turtle said to another, ‘My dear turtle, don’t go to that area.’ But the turtle went to that area, and because of that a hunter lanced him with a harpoon. So he went back to the first turtle. The first turtle saw him coming from afar, and on seeing him said to him, ‘I hope, dear turtle, that you didn’t go to area.’

“‘I went to that area, dear turtle.’

“‘Then I hope you haven’t been wounded or hurt.’

“‘I haven’t been wounded or hurt, but there’s this cord that keeps dragging behind me.’

“‘Yes, dear turtle, you’re wounded, you’re hurt. It was because of that cord that your father & grandfather fell into misfortune & disaster. Now go, dear turtle. You are no longer one of us.’

“The hunter, monks, stands for Māra, the Evil One. The harpoon stands for gains, offerings, & fame. The cord stands for delight & passion. Any monk who relishes & revels in gains, offerings, & fame that have arisen is called a monk lanced by the harpoon, who has fallen into misfortune & disaster. The Evil One can do with him as he will. That’s how cruel gains, offerings, & fame are: a harsh, bitter obstacle to the attainment of the unexcelled rest from bondage.

“So you should train yourselves: ‘We will put aside any gains, offerings, & fame that have arisen; and we will not let any gains, offerings, & fame that have arisen keep our minds consumed.’ That’s how you should train yourselves.” — SN 17:3

§ 5.4  “Monks, there are these eight grounds for laziness. Which eight?

“There is the case where a monk has some work to do. The thought occurs to him: ‘I will have to do this work. But when I have done this work, my body will be tired. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the first ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk has done some work. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have done some work. Now that I have done work, my body is tired. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the second ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk has to go on a journey. The thought occurs to him: ‘I will have to go on this journey. But when I have gone on the journey, my body will be tired. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the third ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk has gone on a journey. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have gone on a journey. Now that I have gone on a journey, my body is tired. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the fourth ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk, having gone for alms in a village or town, does not get as much coarse or refined food as he would like for his fill. The thought occurs to him: ‘I, having gone for alms in a village or town, have not gotten as much coarse or refined food as I would like for my fill. This body of mine is tired & unsuitable for work. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the fifth ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk, having gone for alms in a village or town, gets as much coarse or refined food as he would like for his fill. The thought occurs to him: ‘I, having gone for alms in a village or town, have gotten as much coarse or refined food as I would like for my fill. This body of mine is heavy & unsuitable for work—stuffed with beans, as it were. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the sixth ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk comes down with a slight illness. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have come down with a slight illness. There’s a need to lie down.’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the seventh ground for laziness.

“Then there is the case where a monk has recovered from his illness, not long after his recovery. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have recovered from my illness. It’s not long after my recovery. This body of mine is weak & unsuitable for work. Why don’t I lie down?’ So he lies down. He doesn’t make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the eighth ground for laziness.

“These are the eight grounds for laziness.

“There are these eight grounds for the arousal of energy. Which eight?

“There is the case where a monk has some work to do. The thought occurs to him: ‘I will have to do this work. But when I am doing this work, it will not be easy to attend to the Buddha’s message. Why don’t I make an effort beforehand for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the first ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk has done some work. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have done some work. While I was doing work, I couldn’t attend to the Buddha’s message. Why don’t I make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the second ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk has to go on a journey. The thought occurs to him: ‘I will have to go on this journey. But when I am going on the journey, it will not be easy to attend to the Buddha’s message. Why don’t I make an effort beforehand for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the third ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk has gone on a journey. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have gone on a journey. While I was going on the journey, I couldn’t attend to the Buddha’s message. Why don’t I make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the fourth ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk, having gone for alms in a village or town, does not get as much coarse or refined food as he would like for his fill. The thought occurs to him: ‘I, having gone for alms in a village or town, have not gotten as much coarse or refined food as I would like for my fill. This body of mine is light & suitable for work. Why don’t I make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the fifth ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk, having gone for alms in a village or town, gets as much coarse or refined food as he would like for his fill. The thought occurs to him: ‘I, having gone for alms in a village or town, have gotten as much coarse or refined food as I would like for my fill. This body of mine is light & suitable for work. Why don’t I make an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the sixth ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk comes down with a slight illness. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have come down with a slight illness. Now, there’s the possibility that it could get worse. Why don’t I make an effort beforehand for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the seventh ground for the arousal of energy.

“Then there is the case where a monk has recovered from his illness, not long after his recovery. The thought occurs to him: ‘I have recovered from my illness. It’s not long after my recovery. Now, there’s the possibility that the illness could come back. Why don’t I make an effort beforehand for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized?’ So he makes an effort for the attaining of the as-yet-unattained, the reaching of the as-yet-unreached, the realization of the as-yet-unrealized. This is the eighth ground for the arousal of energy.

“These are the eight grounds for the arousal of energy.” – AN 8:95

§ 5.5  “Monks, I will teach you the eight unruly horses and eight faults in horses, the eight unruly men and eight faults in men. Listen and pay close attention. I will speak.”

“As you say, venerable sir,” the monks responded to him.

The Blessed One said: “Now, which are the eight unruly horses and eight faults in horses?

“There is the case where some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!‘ by the charioteer—back up and push the chariot back with their hindquarters. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the first fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—jump back and hit the carriage railing, breaking the triple bar. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the second fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—kick the chariot pole and stomp on it. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the third fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—go off the road and make the chariot turn over. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the fourth fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—rear up and paw the air. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the fifth fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—not heeding the goad, bite through the bit with their teeth and go where they will. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the sixth fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—go neither forward nor back, but stand right there like a post. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the seventh fault in a horse.

“Then again, some unruly horses—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—draw in their forefeet, draw in their hindfeet, and sit down right there on their four feet. Some unruly horses are like this. This is the eighth fault in a horse.

“These, monks, are the eight unruly horses and eight faults in horses.”

“And which are the eight unruly men and eight faults in men?

“There is the case where the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, denies the offense, (saying,) ‘I don’t remember. I don’t remember.’ He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—backs up and pushes the chariot back with its hindquarters. Some unruly men are like this. This is the first fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, attacks the accuser: ‘What use is there in your speaking, you incompetent fool! Think of yourself as worthy to be spoken to.’ He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—jumps back and hits the carriage railing, breaking the triple bar. Some unruly men are like this. This is the second fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, accuses the accuser in return: ‘You, too, have committed an offense of this name. You make amends for it first.’ He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—kicks the chariot pole and stomps on it. Some unruly men are like this. This is the third fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, wanders from one thing to another, straying outside the topic, displaying anger, irritation, & sulkiness. He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—goes off the road and makes the chariot turn over. Some unruly men are like this. This is the fourth fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, speaks waving his arms around in the midst of the Saṅgha. He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—rears up and paws the air. Some unruly men are like this. This is the fifth fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, not heeding the Saṅgha, not heeding his accuser, goes off where he will, still an offender. He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—not heeding the goad, bites through the bit with its teeth and goes where it will. Some unruly men are like this. This is the sixth fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, (saying,) neither ‘I’ve committed an offense’ nor ‘I haven’t committed an offense,’ vexes the Saṅgha by falling silent. He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—goes neither forward nor back, but stands right there like a post. Some unruly men are like this. This is the seventh fault in a man.

“Then again, the monks accuse a monk of an offense. He, being accused of an offense by the monks, says this: ‘Why do you venerable ones persecute me so much? I’ll disavow the training and return to the lower life.’ On having disavowed the training and returned to the lower life he says, ‘I hope you venerable ones are gratified now!’ He, I tell you, is just like the unruly horse who—when goaded, ordered, and told ‘Go!’ by the charioteer—draws in its forefeet, draws in its hind feet, and sits down right there on its four feet. Some unruly men are like this. This is the eighth fault in a man.

“These, monks, are the eight unruly men and eight faults in men.” — AN 8:14

§ 5.6  “Monks, it is just as if a donkey were following right after a herd of cattle, saying, ‘I too am a cow! I too am a cow!’ Its color is not that of a cow, its voice is not that of a cow, its hoof is not that of a cow, and yet it still keeps following right after the herd of cattle, saying, ‘I too am a cow! I too am a cow!’ In the same way, there is the case where a certain monk follows right after the Saṅgha of monks, saying, ‘I too am a monk! I too am a monk!’ He doesn’t have the other monks’ desire for undertaking the training in heightened virtue, doesn’t have their desire for undertaking the training in heightened mind [concentration], doesn’t have their desire for undertaking the training in heightened discernment, and yet he still keeps following right after the Saṅgha of monks, saying, ‘I too am a monk! I too am a monk!’

“So you should train yourselves: ‘Strong will be our desire for undertaking the training in heightened virtue; strong will be our desire for undertaking the training in heightened mind; strong will be our desire for undertaking the training in heightened discernment.’ That is how you should train yourselves.” — AN 3:83

§ 5.7  Then Ven. Upāli went to the Blessed One and, on arrival, having bowed down to him, sat to one side. As he was sitting there he said to the Blessed One, “Lord, I want to spend time in isolated wilderness & forest lodgings.”

“Upāli, it’s not easy to endure isolated wilderness & forest lodgings. It’s not easy to maintain seclusion, not easy to enjoy being alone. The forests, as it were, plunder the mind of a monk who has not gained concentration. Whoever would say, ‘I, without having gained concentration, will spend time in isolated wilderness & forest lodgings,’ of him it can be expected that he will sink to the bottom or float away.

“Imagine, Upāli, a great freshwater lake. Then there would come a great bull elephant, seven or seven and a half cubits tall. The thought would occur to him, ‘What if I were to plunge into this freshwater lake, to playfully squirt water into my ears and along my back, and then—having playfully squirted water into my ears and along my back, having bathed & drunk & come back out—to go off as I please?’ So, having plunged into the freshwater lake, he would playfully squirt water into his ears and along his back, and then—having playfully squirted water into his ears and along his back, having bathed & drunk & come back out—he would go off as he pleased. Why is that? Because his large body finds a footing in the depth.

“Then a rabbit or a cat would come along. The thought would occur to it, ‘What’s the difference between me and a bull elephant? What if I were to plunge into this freshwater lake, to playfully squirt water into my ears and along my back, and then—having playfully squirted water into my ears and along my back, having bathed & drunk & come back out—to go off as I please?’ So, without reflecting, he jumps rashly into the freshwater lake, and of him it can be expected that he will either sink to the bottom or float away. Why is that? Because his small body doesn’t find a footing in the depth.

“In the same way, whoever would say, ‘I, without having gained concentration, will spend time in isolated wilderness & forest lodgings,’ of him it can be expected that he will sink to the bottom or float away.” — AN 10:99

§ 5.8 [From the origin story to the rule against building an excessively large hut without a sponsor.] Now on that occasion the monks of Āḷavī were having huts built from their own begging—having no sponsors, destined for themselves, not to any standard measurement—that did not come to completion. They were continually begging, continually hinting: ‘Give a man, give labor, give an ox, give a wagon, give a machete, give an ax, give an adz, give a spade, give a chisel, give rushes, give reeds, give grass, give clay.’ People, harassed with the begging, harassed with the hinting, on seeing monks would feel apprehensive, alarmed, would run away; would take another route, face another direction, close the door. Even on seeing cows, they would run away, imagining them to be monks.

Then Ven. Mahā Kassapa, having come out of his Rains retreat at Rājagaha, set out for Āḷavī. After wandering by stages he arrived at Āḷavī, where he stayed at the Chief Shrine. Then in the early morning, having put on his robes and carrying his bowl & outer robe, he went into Āḷavī for alms. The people, on seeing Ven. Mahā Kassapa, were apprehensive, alarmed, ran away, took another route, faced another direction, closed the door. Then Ven. Mahā Kassapa, having gone for alms, after his meal, returning from his alms round, addressed the monks: “Before, friends, Āḷavī was a good place for alms. Alms food was easy to come by; it was easy to maintain oneself by gleanings & patronage. But now Āḷavī is a bad place for alms. Alms food is hard to come by; it isn’t easy to maintain oneself by gleanings or patronage. What is the cause, what is the reason why Āḷavī is now a bad place for alms? …”

Then the monks told Ven. Mahā Kassapa about that matter.

Then the Blessed One, having stayed at Rājagaha as long as he liked, left for Āḷavī. After wandering by stages he arrived at Āḷavī, where he stayed at the Chief Shrine. Then Ven. Mahā Kassapa went to the Blessed One and, on arrival, having bowed down to him, sat to one side. As he was sitting there he told the Blessed One about that matter. Then the Blessed One, because of that issue, because of that affair, had the Saṅgha of monks convened and asked the Āḷavī monks, “They say that you are having huts built from your own begging—having no sponsors, destined for yourselves, not to any standard measurement—that do not come to completion; that you are continually begging, continually hinting: ‘Give a man, give labor, give an ox, give a wagon, give a machete, give an ax, give an adz, give a spade, give a chisel, give rushes, give reeds, give grass, give clay’; that people, harassed with the begging, harassed with the hinting, on seeing monks feel apprehensive, alarmed, run away; take another route, face another direction, close the door; that even on seeing cows, they run away, imagining them to be monks: Is this true?”

“Yes, venerable sir. It is true.”

So the Blessed One rebuked them: “Misguided men, it’s unseemly, unbecoming, unsuitable, and unworthy of a contemplative; improper and not to be done.… Haven’t I taught the Dhamma in many ways for the sake of dispassion and not for passion; for unfettering and not for fettering; for letting go and not for clinging? Yet here, while I have taught the Dhamma for dispassion, you set your heart on passion; while I have taught the Dhamma for unfettering, you set your heart on being fettered; while I have taught the Dhamma for letting go, you set your heart on clinging. Haven’t I taught the Dhamma in various ways for the fading of passion, the sobering of pride, the subduing of thirst, the destruction of attachment, the severing of the round, the depletion of craving, dispassion, cessation, unbinding? Haven’t I advocated abandoning sensual pleasures, understanding sensual perceptions, subduing sensual thirst, destroying sensual preoccupations, calming sensual fevers?… Misguided men, this neither inspires faith in the faithless nor increases the faithful. Rather, it inspires lack of faith in the faithless and wavering in some of the faithful.”

Then, having given a Dhamma talk on what is seemly & becoming for monks, he addressed the monks:

“Once, monks, there were two brothers who were hermits living on the banks of the Ganges. Then Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, coming up out of the river Ganges, went to the younger hermit and, on arrival, having encircled him seven times with his coils, stood spreading his great hood above his head. Then the younger hermit, through fear of the nāga, became thin, wretched, unattractive, & jaundiced, his body covered with veins. The elder brother, seeing his younger brother thin… his body covered with veins, asked him, ‘Why are you thin… your body covered with veins?’

“‘Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, coming up out of the river Ganges, comes to me and, on arrival, having encircled me seven times with his coils, stands spreading his great hood above my head. Through fear of the nāga I have become thin… my body covered with veins.’

“‘But do you want that nāga not to return?’

“‘I want the nāga not to return.’

“‘Do you see that this nāga has anything?’

“‘I see that he is ornamented with a jewel on his throat.’

“‘Then beg the nāga for the jewel, saying, “Good sir, give me your jewel. I want your jewel.”’

“Then Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, coming up out of the river Ganges, went to the younger hermit and, on arrival, stood to one side. As he was standing there, the younger hermit said to him, ‘Good sir, give me your jewel. I want your jewel.’ Then Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, thinking, ‘The monk is begging for my jewel. The monk wants my jewel,’ hurried off. Then a second time, the nāga-king, coming up out of the river Ganges, went toward the younger hermit. Seeing him from afar, the younger hermit said to him, ‘Good sir, give me your jewel. I want your jewel.’ Then Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, thinking, ‘The monk is begging for my jewel. The monk wants my jewel,’ hurried off. Then a third time, the nāga-king came up out of the river Ganges. Seeing him come up out of the river Ganges, the younger hermit said to him, ‘Good sir, give me your jewel. I want your jewel.’

“Then Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, addressed the younger hermit with this verse:

“Then Maṇikaṇṭha, the nāga-king, thinking, ‘The monk is begging for my jewel. The monk wants my jewel,’ went away. And having gone away, he never again returned. Then the younger hermit, from not seeing that lovely nāga, became even thinner, more wretched, unattractive, & jaundiced, his body covered with veins. His older brother saw that he was even thinner… his body covered with veins, and on seeing him, he asked him, ‘Why are you even thinner… your body covered with veins?’

“‘It’s from not seeing that lovely nāga that I am even thinner… my body covered with veins.’

“Then the elder hermit addressed the younger hermit with this verse:

“Monks, begging is unpleasant, hinting is unpleasant even to those who are common animals—how much more so to human beings?”

“Once, monks, a monk lived on the slopes of the Himalayas in a forest grove. Not far from the grove was a broad, low-lying marsh. A great flock of birds, after feeding all day in the marsh, went to roost in the grove at nightfall. The monk was annoyed by the noise of that flock of birds.

“So he came to me and, on arrival, having bowed down, sat to one side. As he was sitting there, I said to him, ‘I hope, monk, that you are well, that you are getting along, that you have completed your journey with little fatigue. Where have you come from?”

“I am well, venerable sir, am getting along, and have completed my journey with little fatigue. Venerable sir, there is a large forest grove on the slopes of the Himalayas, and not far from it is a broad, low-lying marsh. A great flock of birds, after feeding all day in the marsh, goes to roost in the grove at nightfall. That is why I have come to see the Blessed One—because I am annoyed by the noise of that flock of birds.’

“‘Monk, you want those birds to go away for good?’

“‘Yes, venerable sir, I want them to go away for good.’

“‘Then go back there, enter the forest, and in the first watch of the night make this announcement three times: “Listen to me, good birds. I want a feather from everyone roosting in this forest. Each of you give me one feather.” In the second watch… In the third watch of the night make this announcement three times: “Listen to me, good birds. I want a feather from everyone roosting in this forest. Each of you give me one feather.” … [The monk did as he was told.] Then the flock of birds, thinking, ‘The monk begs for a feather, the monk wants a feather,’ left the forest. And after they were gone, they never again returned. Monks, begging is unpleasant, hinting is unpleasant even to these common animals—how much more so to human beings?” — Sg 6

§ 5.9  [From the origin story to the rule against insulting another monk.] “Once, monks, a certain brahman in Takkasilā had an ox named Nandivisāla. Then Nandivisāla said to the brahman, ‘Go, brahman, and make a bet for 1,000 [gold pieces] with the financier: “My ox will draw 100 carts tied to one another.”’

“So the brahman made a bet for 1,000 with the financier: ‘My ox will draw 100 carts tied to one another.’ Then, having tied 100 carts to one another, having yoked Nandivisāla the ox, the brahman said, ‘Pull, you brute! Drag them, you brute!’ So Nandivisāla just stood right there.

“Then the brahman, having lost 1,000, was brooding. So Nandivisāla said to him, ‘Why, brahman, are you brooding?’

“‘Because, good sir, I lost 1,000 because of you.’

“‘But why, brahman, did you disgrace me, who am not a brute, by calling me a brute? Go, brahman, and make a bet for 2000 with the financier: “My ox will drag 100 carts tied to one another,” and don’t disgrace me, who am not a brute, by calling me a brute.’

“So the brahman made a bet for 2,000 with the financier: ‘My ox will drag 100 carts tied to one another.’ Then, having tied 100 carts to one another, having yoked Nandivisāla the ox, the brahman said, ‘Pull, civilized one! Drag them, civilized one!’ And Nandivisāla drew the 100 carts tied to one another.

Speak what’s appealing,

not what’s unappealing, ever.

For the one who spoke what was appealing,

he dragged the heavy load

and brought him wealth,

having abandoned his mood because of that.

“Even then, monks, abuse & insult were unappealing to me. So how much less now would they be appealing—abuse & insult?” — Pc 2

§ 5.10  [From the origin story to the rule against telling a lie.] Now at that time (the monk) Hatthaka the Sakyan had been overthrown in debate. In discussions with adherents of other religions, he conceded points after having denied them, denied them after having conceded them, evaded one question with another, told deliberate lies, made an appointment (for a debate) but then didn’t keep it. The adherents of other religions criticized and complained and spread it about, “How can this Hatthaka the Sakyan, in discussions with us, concede points after having denied them, deny them after having conceded them, evade one question with another, tell deliberate lies, and make an appointment (for a debate) but then not keep it?”

The monks heard them… and having approached Hatthaka the Sakyan, asked him: “Is it true, friend Hatthaka, that in discussions with adherents of other religions, you conceded points after having denied them, denied them after having conceded, evaded one question with another, told deliberate lies, made an appointment (for a debate) but then didn’t keep it?”

“Those adherents of other religions have to be beaten in some way or another. You can’t just give them the victory!” — Pc 1

§ 5.11  [From the origin story to the rule against asking for too much cloth when one’s robes have been lost, stolen, or destroyed.] Now on that occasion some group-of-six monks, having approached monks whose robes had been snatched away, said, “Friends, the Blessed One has allowed those whose robes are snatched away or destroyed to ask an unrelated man or woman householder for robe-cloth. Ask for robe-cloth, friends.”

“Never mind, friends. We have already received (enough) robe-cloth.”

“We are asking for your sake, friends.”

“Then go ahead and ask.”

So the group-of-six monks, having approached unrelated householders, said, “Monks have come whose robes were snatched away. Give robe-cloth for them.” And they asked for a lot of robe-cloth. Then a certain man, sitting in a meeting hall, said to another man, “Master, monks have come whose robes were snatched away. I gave robe-cloth for them.”

And he said, “I gave, too.”

And another said, “I gave, too.”

So they criticized and complained and spread it about: “How can these Sakyan-son monks, not knowing moderation, ask for a lot of robe-cloth? Will the Sakyan-son monks deal in the cloth business? Or will they set up a shop?” — NP 7

§ 5.12  [From the origin story to the rule against carrying wool for more than three leagues.] Now on that occasion wool accrued to a monk as he was on the road in the Kosalan districts, going to Sāvatthī. So, tying the wool into a bundle with his upper robe, he went along his way. People who saw him teased him, “How much did you pay for it, venerable sir? How much will the profit be?” — NP 16

§ 5.13  [From the origin story to the rule against going to watch a battle.] Then a certain group-of-six monk, having gone to the battlefield, was pierced by an arrow. People teased him: “We hope (the battle) was well fought, venerable sir. How many points did you get?” — Pc 50

§ 5.14  [From the origin story to the rule allowing monks to close the door when lying down during the day.] Now on that occasion a certain monk had gone to the Gabled Hall in the Great Wood at Vesālī to pass the day and was sleeping, having left the door open. His various limbs were stiff with the ‘wind forces’ [i.e., he had an erection]. And at that time a large company of women bearing garlands & scents came to the park, headed for the dwelling. Seeing the monk, they sat down on his male organ and, having taken their pleasure and remarking, “What a bull of a man, this one!” they picked up their garlands & scents, and left. — Pr 1

§ 5.15  [From the origin story to the rule against causing an intentional emission of semen.] Now at that time Ven. Seyyasaka was leading the celibate life dissatisfied. Because of this, he was thin, wretched, unattractive, & pale, his body covered with veins. Ven. Udāyin saw that Ven. Seyyasaka was thin… his body covered with veins. On seeing him, he said to him, “Seyyasaka, my friend, why are you thin… your body covered with veins? Could it be that you’re leading the celibate life dissatisfied?”

“Yes, friend.”

“In that case, eat as you like and sleep as you like and bathe as you like; and having eaten, slept, and bathed as you like, when dissatisfaction arises and lust assails the mind, emit semen having attacked with your hand.”

“But is it okay to do that?”

“Of course. I do it myself.”

So then Ven. Seyyasaka ate as he liked and slept as he liked… and when dissatisfaction arose and lust assailed his mind, he would emit semen having attacked with his hand. Then it wasn’t long before he became attractive, with rounded features, a clear complexion, and very bright skin. So the monks who were his friends said to him, “Before, friend Seyyasaka, you were thin… your body covered with veins. But now you are attractive, with rounded features, a clear complexion, and very bright skin. Could it be that you’re taking medicine?”

“No, I’m not taking medicine, my friends. I just eat as I like and sleep as I like… and when dissatisfaction arises and lust assails my mind, I emit semen having attacked with my hand.”

“But do you emit semen having attacked with the same hand you use to eat the gifts of the faithful?”

“Yes, my friends.” — Sg 1

§ 5.16  [From the origin story to the rule forbidding a monk from getting a nun to wash his used robe.] Now on that occasion Ven. Udāyin’s wife had gone forth among the nuns. She often went to his place, and he often went to hers. One day he went to her place for a meal-donation. Dressing early in the morning, taking his bowl and (outer) robe, he went to her and on arrival sat down in front of her, exposing his penis. She sat down in front of him, exposing her vagina. He, impassioned, stared at her vagina. Semen was released from his penis. He said to her, “Go and fetch some water, sister. I’ll wash my lower robe.”

“Give it here, master. I’ll wash it.”

Then she took some of the semen in her mouth and inserted some of it in her vagina. With that, she conceived a child.

The nuns said, “This nun has been practicing unchastity. She’s pregnant.”

“It’s not that I’ve been practicing unchastity.” And she told them what had happened. The nuns criticized and complained and spread it about, “How can this Master Udāyin get a nun to wash his used robe?” — NP 4

§ 5.17  [From the origin story forbidding a monk from sewing a robe for a nun unrelated to him.] Now on that occasion Ven. Udāyin had become accomplished in making robes. A certain nun went to him and on arrival said, ‘It would be good, venerable sir, if you sewed me a robe.’ So Ven. Udāyin, having sewed a robe for the nun, having dyed it well and stitched it nicely, having embroidered an obscene design in the middle and having folded it up, placed it to one side. Then the nun went to him and on arrival said, “Where is the robe, venerable sir?”

“Here you are, sister. Take this robe as it is folded and place it aside. When the Saṅgha of nuns comes for exhortation, put it on and come behind them.”

So the nun took the robe as it was folded and placed it aside. When the Saṅgha of nuns came for exhortation, she put it on and came behind them. People criticized and complained and spread it about, “How brazen these nuns are, how mischievous and shameless, in that they embroider an obscene design on a robe!”

The nuns said, “Whose work is this?”

“Master Udāyin’s,’ the nun answered.

“A thing like this wouldn’t be attractive even from those who are brazen, mischievous, and shameless, much less from Master Udāyin.” — Pc 26

§ 5.18  [From the origin story to the rule forbidding a nun from formally confessing her offenses to a monk.] Now on that occasion nuns—on seeing a monk along a main road, in a side road, or at a crossroads—having placed their bowls on the ground, having arranged their upper robes over one shoulder, kneeling down with hands raised palm-to-palm over the heart, confessed their offenses. People were offended and annoyed and spread it about, “Those are the mistresses of these; these are the lovers of those. Having scorned them last night, they are now asking their forgiveness.” — Cv X.6.2

§ 5.19  [From the origin story to the rule against eating food that has not been formally offered by a lay person.] Now on that occasion a certain monk, living entirely off of what was thrown away, was staying in a cemetery. Not wanting to receive gifts from people, he himself took the offerings for dead ancestors—left in cemeteries, under trees, and on thresholds—and ate them. People criticized and complained and spread it about, “How can this monk himself take our offerings for our dead ancestors and eat them? He’s robust, this monk. He’s strong. Perhaps he feeds on human flesh.” — Pc 40

§ 5.20  [From the origin story to the rules governing the protocols that monks should follow while living in the wilderness.] Now on that occasion a number of monks were living in the wilderness. They neither had drinking water set out nor washing water set out nor fire set out nor fire-generating sticks set out. They did not know the zodiac asterisms [the major stars used to mark the progress of the moon through the sky], they did not know the cardinal directions. Thieves, on coming there, said to them, “Is there drinking water, venerable sirs?”

“No, friends.”

“Is there washing water, venerable sirs? Is there fire, venerable sirs? Are there fire-generating sticks, venerable sirs?”

“No, friends.”

“With what (constellation) is there a lunar conjunction today, venerable sirs?”

“We don’t know, friends.”

“Which direction is this, venerable sirs?”

“We don’t know, friends.”

Then the thieves, (thinking,) “These people have neither drinking water nor washing water nor fire nor fire-generating sticks; they don’t know the zodiac asterisms, they don’t know the cardinal directions; these are thieves, not monks,” gave them a good beating and left. — Cv VIII.6.1