Reading guide
The teaching in one sentence
A life of bad conduct compounds into present unease, a nearly incomprehensible torment in hell, an animal rebirth defined by squalor, and only the remotest chance of returning to a decent human life; a life of good conduct compounds, in exact mirror image, into present ease, a heavenly happiness beyond even a legendary king’s wealth, and a fortunate return to human birth — and the whole architecture rests on nothing more mysterious than “thinks poorly, speaks poorly, acts poorly” versus the reverse.
The fool’s three sufferings, here and now
The Buddha begins simply: a fool (bāla, literally “infant”) is known by three marks — thinking, speaking, and acting poorly. But rather than jumping straight to cosmic consequences, he first names three kinds of suffering the fool already experiences in this very life: sitting among people discussing what is proper and fitting, and inwardly flinching, “those bad things are found in me”; watching a criminal punished and thinking, with real dread, “if the kings find out about me, they will inflict the same”; and, most quietly devastating, lying down at night as one’s past bad deeds “settle down upon them, rest down upon them, and lay down upon them” — like the shadow of a great mountain falling across the land at evening — provoking grief, wailing, and confusion. Guilt, dread, and insomnia: the fool’s punishment begins long before any afterlife.
Hell, and the debate about who runs it
The Buddha states plainly that hell is “utterly unlikable, undesirable, and disagreeable… not easy to give a simile for.” Pressed by a mendicant, he offers one anyway: a man struck with a hundred spears each at morning, noon, and evening — three hundred spears in a single day — would suffer terribly; yet that suffering, compared to hell’s, is a palm-sized stone compared to the Himalayas. What follows is an extended, escalating catalogue: crucifixion with red-hot stakes, hacking with axes and hatchets, being harnessed to a burning chariot, climbing a mountain of blazing coals, being seared in a red-hot copper pot — “but they don’t die until that bad deed is eliminated” — culminating in the Great Hell itself, described in verse: four corners, four doors, walls and roof and ground all of burning iron, its heat radiating a hundred leagues around.
The animal realm
If not hell, a fool who was “a glutton” and did bad deeds may be reborn among animals — sorted here into five categories: grass-eaters (elephants, horses, cattle), dung-eaters (chickens, pigs, hounds, jackals — compared, with a sharp satirical edge, to brahmins running toward the smell of a burnt offering, thinking “there we’ll eat!”), creatures born and dying in darkness (moths, maggots, earthworms), creatures of the water (fish, turtles, dolphins), and creatures that live and die in filth — a rotten carcass, spoiled porridge, a sewer. “I could tell you many different things about the animal realm,” the Buddha adds, “so much so that it’s not easy to completely describe.”
The blind turtle
This is the discourse’s most famous passage, and arguably one of the most famous images in the entire Buddhist canon:
The point is not despair but urgency: a fortunate human rebirth — and the chance to hear and practice the Dhamma that comes with it — is staggeringly rare, worth using well precisely because it cannot be taken for granted.
Even the return is grim
Should that fool, after an unimaginably long time, finally return to human life, the outcome is still bleak: birth into a poor, low-status family — the text names corpse-workers, hunters, bamboo-workers, chariot-makers, scavengers — “ugly, unsightly, deformed, sickly,” without access to food, shelter, or comfort, and likely, given the circumstances, to fall back into bad conduct and return to hell. The Buddha compares the entire cycle to a gambler who loses his wife, his child, all his property, and is thrown in jail on his very first losing hand — “trivial,” he says, compared to what the fool has actually lost. “This is the total fulfillment of the fool’s level.”
The astute person: an exact mirror
The second half of the discourse repeats the entire structure in reverse, point for point. The astute person (paṇḍita) thinks, speaks, and acts well, and experiences three kinds of ease in this very life: no dread when propriety is discussed, no fear of punishment, and a peaceful mind at night, as their good deeds “settle down” the same way — but bringing calm rather than anguish. After death, rebirth in heaven follows, described, like hell, as beyond simile — until the Buddha offers one anyway.
The wheel-turning monarch
To gesture at heaven’s happiness, the Buddha describes the cakkavatti, the legendary wheel-turning monarch, and his seven treasures and four blessings — a set-piece shared with the Dīgha Nikāya’s great royal discourses, and one scholars connect to the ancient Vedic horse-sacrifice and the Indo-European dream of universal, benevolent dominion:
| The seven treasures | What it does |
|---|---|
| The wheel | rolls forth across all four directions, subduing rival rulers not by conquest but by persuading them to keep the five precepts |
| The elephant | an all-white sky-walker that can circle the entire ocean-girt land before breakfast |
| The horse | likewise sky-walking, equally swift |
| The jewel | a radiant beryl gem bright enough to turn night into apparent day for a league around |
| The woman | of surpassing but not superhuman beauty, utterly devoted, never betraying the king even in thought |
| The householder | possessed of clairvoyance for locating treasure, who can draw pots of gold straight out of a river on request |
| The commander | unfailingly astute in managing the king’s affairs |
To these are added four blessings — unmatched beauty, long life, robust health, and being so beloved by his subjects that they beg his charioteer to “drive slowly, so we may see him longer.” And yet, the Buddha says, even a wheel-turning monarch’s happiness — picking up his palm-sized stone once more — doesn’t count as a fraction of heaven’s, any more than that stone counts against the Himalayas.
A winning hand
Should the astute person, after a very long heavenly life, return to the human realm, the outcome mirrors the fool’s exactly — but inverted: birth into a wealthy, well-established family, beautiful, provided with everything needed for a comfortable life, inclined toward good conduct, and so bound for heaven again. The Buddha compares it to a gambler who wins a fortune on his very first hand — “trivial,” he says, compared to what the astute person has actually gained. “This is the total fulfillment of the astute person’s level.”
Key terms
The text
The fool’s three sufferings, here and now
§1–5So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, and addressed the mendicants: “These are the three characteristics of a fool: a fool thinks poorly, speaks poorly, and acts poorly. A fool experiences three kinds of suffering and sadness in this very life. Suppose a fool is sitting where people are discussing what is proper and fitting, and that fool kills living creatures, steals, and lies. Then that fool thinks: ‘These people are discussing what is proper and fitting. But those bad things are found in me and I exhibit them!’ This is the first suffering.
Furthermore, a fool sees that the kings have arrested a bandit and subjected him to various punishments… then that fool thinks: ‘Those things are found in me! If the kings find out about me, they will inflict the same kinds of punishments on me!’ This is the second suffering.
Furthermore, when a fool is resting on a chair or a bed or on the ground, their past bad deeds — misconduct of body, speech, and mind — settle down upon them, rest down upon them, and lay down upon them. It is like the shadow of a great mountain peak in the evening as it settles down upon the earth. Then that fool thinks: ‘Alas, I haven’t done good and skillful things that keep me safe. And I have done bad things, violence and sin. When I depart, I’ll go to the place where people who’ve done such things go.’ They sorrow and wail and lament, beating their breasts and falling into confusion. This is the third suffering.
Hell
§6–17Having done bad things, when their body breaks up, they’re reborn in hell. And if there’s anything of which it may rightly be said that it is utterly unlikable, undesirable, and disagreeable, it is of hell — so much so that it’s not easy to give a simile for how painful hell is.” A mendicant asked: “But sir, is it possible to give a simile?” “It’s possible,” said the Buddha. “Suppose a king ordered his men to strike a bandit with a hundred spears each at morning, noon, and evening — three hundred spears in a single day, and still the man lived. Would that man suffer greatly?” “Sir, he would suffer greatly from even one spear, let alone three hundred!” Picking up a palm-sized stone, the Buddha asked: “Which is bigger — this stone, or the Himalayas?” “The stone doesn’t count, sir, not worth a fraction.” “In the same way, that man’s suffering from three hundred spears doesn’t count as a fraction of hell’s suffering.
The wardens of hell punish them with the five-fold crucifixion, driving red-hot stakes through the hands, feet, and chest — and they don’t die until that bad deed is eliminated. The wardens throw them down and hack them with axes; hang them upside-down and hack them with hatchets; harness them to a burning chariot and drive them back and forth across blazing ground; make them climb a huge mountain of burning coals; turn them upside down and throw them into a red-hot copper pot, seared and swept round and round. At last the wardens of hell toss them into the Great Hell:
‘Four are its corners, four its doors,
neatly divided section by section.
Surrounded by an iron wall,
of iron is its roof.
The ground is even made of iron,
it burns with fierce fire.
The heat forever radiates
a hundred leagues around.’
I could tell you many different things about hell — so much so that it’s not easy to completely describe the suffering there.
The animal realm
§18–23There are animals that feed on grass — elephants, horses, cattle, donkeys, goats, deer, and others; a glutton who did bad deeds may be reborn among them. There are animals that feed on dung — chickens, pigs, hounds, jackals, running to it the moment they catch its whiff, thinking ‘there we’ll eat!’ just as brahmins run toward the smell of a burnt offering. There are animals born, living, and dying in darkness — moths, maggots, earthworms. There are animals born, living, and dying in water — fish, turtles, dolphins. And there are animals born, living, and dying in filth — in a rotten fish, a rotten carcass, rotten porridge, or a sewer. I could tell you many different things about the animal realm — so much so that it’s not easy to completely describe the suffering there.
The blind turtle
§24–26Mendicants, suppose a person were to throw a yoke with a single hole into the ocean. The east wind wafts it west; the west wind wafts it east; the north wind wafts it south; and the south wind wafts it north. And there was a one-eyed turtle who popped up once every hundred years. What do you think, mendicants? Would that one-eyed turtle still poke its neck through the hole in that yoke?” “No, sir. Only after a very long time, sir, if ever.” “That one-eyed turtle would poke its neck through the hole in that yoke sooner than a fool who has fallen to the underworld would be reborn as a human being, I say. Why is that? Because in that place there’s no principled or moral conduct, and no doing what is good and skillful. There they just prey on each other, preying on the weak.
And suppose that fool, after a very long time, returned to the human realm. They’d be reborn in a low-class family — corpse-workers, hunters, bamboo-workers, chariot-makers, or scavengers — poor, with little to eat, where life is tough. And they’d be ugly, deformed, sickly. And they do bad things by way of body, speech, and mind, and when their body breaks up, they’re reborn again in hell. Suppose a gambler were to lose his wife and child, all his property, and then get thrown in jail with his first losing hand — such a losing hand is trivial compared to the fool’s. This is the total fulfillment of the fool’s level.
The astute person: an exact mirror
§27–32There are three characteristics of an astute person: an astute person thinks well, speaks well, and acts well. And an astute person experiences three kinds of pleasure and happiness in this very life — the exact mirror of the fool’s three sufferings: no dread when propriety is discussed, since ‘those good things are found in me’; no fear when a criminal is punished, since ‘those things are not found in me’; and at rest, their past good deeds settle upon them like the same mountain’s shadow — but bringing only the thought, ‘I have done good and skillful deeds that keep me safe,’ with no sorrow or wailing. When their body breaks up, they’re reborn in heaven — and if there’s anything utterly likable, desirable, and agreeable, it is of heaven this should be said, so much so that it’s not easy to give a simile.
The wheel-turning monarch
§33–46Asked again for a simile, the Buddha described a wheel-turning monarch possessed of seven treasures and four blessings. The wheel-treasure appears to him on the sabbath, a heavenly wheel with a thousand spokes; besprinkling it, he sends it rolling in all four directions, and the rulers of each quarter submit, asked only to keep the five precepts and maintain the current level of taxation. The elephant-treasure, an all-white sky-walker, can circle the whole ocean-girt land before breakfast; so can the horse-treasure. The jewel-treasure, a radiant beryl, lights the night so brightly that villagers rise for work thinking it day. The woman-treasure is of surpassing but not superhuman beauty, devoted beyond even a thought of betrayal. The householder-treasure, clairvoyant for buried treasure, can draw up a pot of gold from the middle of a river on request. The commander-treasure manages all his affairs unerringly.
To these are added four blessings: unmatched beauty; long life; freedom from illness; and being so beloved that his own subjects beg his charioteer, ‘drive slowly, so we may see him longer!’ “Would such a king experience pleasure and happiness?” “Even from a single treasure, sir, let alone all seven and four blessings!” Picking up his palm-sized stone once more, the Buddha said: “In the same way, compared to the happiness of heaven, even a wheel-turning monarch’s pleasure doesn’t count as a fraction.
A winning hand
§48–49And suppose that astute person, after a very long time, returned to the human realm. They’d be reborn in a well-to-do family — rich, affluent, attractive, provided with everything needed for a comfortable life — and they do good things by way of body, speech, and mind, and when their body breaks up, they’re reborn again in heaven. Suppose a gambler were to win a big pile of money with his first winning hand — such a winning hand is trivial compared to the astute person’s. This is the total fulfillment of the astute person’s level.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, the mendicants approved what the Buddha said.
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