Six Brahmins Come to Debate the Buddha

At that time, the World-Honored One said to Kauṇḍinya: "Form is impermanent — through the cessation of this very cause, this form is liberated, and one attains a permanently abiding form; and feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are impermanent in exactly the same way, and, through the cessation of this consciousness, one attains a permanently abiding consciousness. Kauṇḍinya, form is itself suffering — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated, blissful form, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is itself empty — through the cessation of this empty form as cause, one attains a liberated form that is not empty, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is without self — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated form possessing the true self, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is impure — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated, pure form, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form bears the mark of birth, old age, sickness, and death — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated form free of this mark, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is the very cause of ignorance — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated form no longer the cause of ignorance, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, all the way through, form is the cause of birth itself — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated form no longer the cause of birth, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is itself the cause of the four inversions — through the cessation of this inverted form as cause, one attains a liberated form free of these four inversions as its cause, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is the cause of boundless evil dharmas — that is, the male and female body, craving for food, craving for desire, greed, hatred, envy, an unwholesome mind, a stingy mind, the four kinds of food (edible, contact, intention, and consciousness), birth from an egg, from a womb, from moisture, or by transformation, the five desires, and the five hindrances — dharmas of exactly this kind all have form as their cause, and, through the cessation of form as this cause, one attains liberation from boundless evil forms of exactly this kind, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is itself bondage — through the cessation of this bound form as cause, one attains a liberated form free of bondage, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is itself a current — through the cessation of this flowing form as cause, one attains a liberated form that is not a current, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is no true refuge — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated form that is itself a true refuge, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is itself a wound and a growth — through the cessation of this cause, one attains a liberated form free of any wound or growth, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, form is not still — through the cessation of this cause, one attains the still form of nirvāṇa, and the rest are exactly the same. Kauṇḍinya, should anyone be able to know in this way, he is called a śramaṇa, called a brahmin, fully endowed with the very dharma of the śramaṇa and the brahmin. Kauṇḍinya, apart from the Buddha's own Dharma, there is no such thing as a true śramaṇa, no true brahmin, and no true dharma of the śramaṇa or the brahmin at all. Every non-Buddhist school makes a false and deceptive claim, possessing no genuine practice whatsoever — though they put on the outward appearance and claim to possess these two things, there is, in reality, no such thing there at all. Why is this? If there is no true dharma of the śramaṇa or the brahmin, how could there possibly be a true śramaṇa or brahmin at all? I have always, before this very assembly, roared the lion's roar — you, too, ought now to roar this same lion's roar before the assembly."

At that time, countless non-Buddhist practitioners, hearing this teaching, gave rise to anger and resentment in their hearts: "Gautama now says that our own assembly contains no true śramaṇa or brahmin, nor any true dharma of the śramaṇa or the brahmin at all — how, then, ought we to devise some broad skillful means to tell Gautama that our own assembly does indeed possess the śramaṇa, and the śramaṇa's own dharma, the brahmin, and the brahmin's own dharma?" At that time, among this very assembly, a certain brahmin ascetic proclaimed: "Gentlemen, Gautama's own words are no different from the ravings of a madman — why examine them at all? Madmen of the world, at times, sing, at times dance, at times weep, at times laugh, at times curse, at times praise, unable to distinguish friend from foe. The śramaṇa Gautama is exactly the same: at times he says he was born in King Śuddhodana's own household, at times says he was not born at all; at times says that, once born, he walked seven steps, at times says he did not walk at all; at times says he studied worldly matters from his own youth, at times says he is himself the all-knowing one; at times he dwelt in the palace enjoying pleasure and fathering a son, at times grew weary of it and denounced it as base and contemptible; at times personally practiced austerities for six years, at times denounced the very austerities of non-Buddhist practitioners; at times says he received his own teaching, unprecedented, from Udraka Rāmaputra and Ārāḍa Kālāma, at times says these teachers knew nothing at all; at times says he attained supreme, perfect awakening beneath the bodhi tree, at times says he never reached the tree and attained nothing whatsoever; at times says this very body of his is itself nirvāṇa, at times says that only the body's own cessation is nirvāṇa. Gautama's own words are no different from the ravings of a madman — why, then, ought we to be troubled by them at all?" The brahmins then answered together: "Great one, how could we possibly not be troubled? The śramaṇa Gautama, having first left the household life, taught the dharmas of impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and no-self — our own disciples, hearing this, were struck with terror, saying: 'How could beings be impermanent, suffering, empty, without self, and impure?' — and would not accept his teaching. Yet now Gautama has come once more, to this very sāla grove, and teaches the great assembly the dharma of permanence, bliss, self, and purity — and our own disciples, hearing this teaching, have entirely abandoned us and gone over to him, accepting Gautama's own words instead. It is on account of exactly this that we are struck with such great sorrow and suffering." At that time, a certain brahmin, further, said: "Gentlemen, listen closely, listen closely. The śramaṇa Gautama is said to cultivate loving-kindness and compassion — this is itself false, not true at all. Were he truly compassionate, why would he teach our own disciples to abandon their own dharma and take up his? True compassion's own fruit accords with another's own wishes — yet he now goes against our own wishes entirely; how, then, can it be said that he possesses it? Should anyone say that the śramaṇa Gautama is untainted by the eight worldly conditions, this too is false. Should it be said that Gautama has few desires and knows contentment, why, then, does he now rob us of our own benefit? Should it be said that his lineage is of the highest clan, this too is false — why is this? Since ancient times, no one has ever seen or heard of a great lion king harming a small mouse; were Gautama truly of the highest lineage, how could he now trouble and disturb us in this way? Should it be said that Gautama possesses great power, this too is false — why is this? Since ancient times, no one has ever seen or heard of the garuḍa king contending with a mere crow; were his power truly great, what business would he have contending with us at all? Should it be said that Gautama possesses the wisdom to know another's own mind, this too is false — why is this? Were he truly endowed with this wisdom, for what reason does he fail to know our own minds? Gentlemen, I myself once heard, from the wise elders of old, that, after a hundred years had passed, a certain deceptive apparition would appear in the world — and this is none other than Gautama himself. This very deceptive apparition, here in this sāla grove, shall soon perish of its own accord — you gentlemen ought not, therefore, to trouble yourselves with sorrow over this at all." At that time, a certain Nirgrantha disciple, further, answered: "Gentlemen, my own sorrow is not for the sake of my own disciples' offerings — it is only that the world, blind and benighted with ignorance, unable to distinguish a true field of merit from a false one, has abandoned the wise brahmin elders of old and now makes offerings to the young instead — this alone is the cause of my own sorrow. The śramaṇa Gautama is greatly skilled in magical spells, and, through the very power of these spells, is able to make a single body into countless bodies, and countless bodies once more into a single body, or to transform his own body into the likeness of a man or a woman, an ox, a sheep, an elephant, or a horse. My own power is able to destroy spells of exactly this kind — and, once the śramaṇa Gautama's own spells are destroyed, you gentlemen shall once again receive abundant offerings, and enjoy peace and ease." At that time, a certain brahmin, further, said: "Gentlemen, the śramaṇa Gautama has, in truth, fully accomplished boundless merit — you ought not, therefore, to dispute with him at all." The assembly answered: "Foolish man, how can you say that the śramaṇa Gautama possesses great merit? He was but seven days old when his own mother died — could this possibly be called the mark of great merit?" The brahmin said: "Never angered when cursed, never retaliating when struck — one should know that this itself is the mark of great merit. His own body is fully endowed with the thirty-two marks, the eighty minor characteristics, and boundless supernormal powers — one should therefore know that this, too, is the mark of great merit. His mind is free of arrogance; he greets others first with kind inquiry; his speech is gentle, never coarse or rough from the very start; though still in the fullness of his own youth and vigor, his mind is never rash or impulsive; possessing a kingdom's own great wealth, he holds no attachment to it at all, relinquishing it to leave the household life exactly as one discards spittle or mucus — it is for this very reason that I say the śramaṇa Gautama has fully accomplished boundless merit." The assembly answered: "Excellent, sir! The śramaṇa Gautama has indeed, exactly as you say, accomplished boundless supernormal powers and transformations — we do not intend to test him on this point at all. The śramaṇa Gautama, however, is by nature soft and delicate, unable to endure real austerity, raised deep within the palace, unfamiliar with worldly affairs, capable only of gentle speech; he knows nothing of craft, of scripture, or of formal debate — let us, then, request a detailed disputation on the essential points of the true Dharma. Should he defeat us, we shall serve him; should we defeat him, he shall serve us instead."

At that time, a great multitude of non-Buddhist practitioners gathered together and went to where King Ajātaśatru of Magadha was. The king, seeing them, asked: "Gentlemen, why have you come? Each of you cultivates the noble path in your own way — you are those who have left the household life, relinquishing wealth and worldly affairs, and yet the people of my own kingdom make offerings to you all alike, regarding you with reverence, never causing you any offense — why, then, have you gathered together and come here in this way? Gentlemen, each of you follows a different dharma, a different discipline, each having left the household life in your own distinct manner, each pursuing your own precepts and cultivating the path according to your own tradition — for what reason, then, have you now become of one single mind, gathered together exactly like fallen leaves swept up together by a whirlwind? Tell me the reason you have come here. I have always protected those who have left the household life, even at the cost of my own body and life." The assembled heretics then said together: "Great king, listen closely. You yourself are the great bridge of the Dharma, the great whetstone of the Dharma, the great scale of the Dharma, the very vessel of every merit, the true nature of every merit, the very road of the true Dharma, the fertile field of every seed, the very root of every land, the great bright mirror of every land, the very image of every god, and the father and mother of every person in the kingdom. Great king, the treasury of merit for the entire world is simply your own body. Why is it called the treasury of merit? Because the king, in deciding the affairs of the kingdom, makes no distinction between friend and foe, his own mind remaining equal, exactly like earth, water, fire, and wind — and it is for this reason that the king is called the treasury of merit. Great king, though beings in the present age are short-lived, the king's own merit is exactly like that of the kings of old, who lived long lives in peace and ease — exactly like King Māndhātṛ, King Sudarśana, King Kṣāntivādin, King Nahuṣa, King Yayāti, King Śibi, and King Ekarāja — kings of exactly this kind, fully endowed with wholesome dharmas — and the great king today is exactly the same. Great king, on your own account, the land is at peace and its people flourish, and it is for this reason that everyone who has left the household life longs to dwell in this very land, upholding the precepts with diligence and cultivating the true path. Great king, we have taught, in our own scriptures, that, should one who has left the household life uphold the precepts and diligently cultivate the true path in whatever land he dwells, the king of that land, too, shares in this very cultivated merit. Great king, every thief and bandit has already been brought to order by the king, and those who have left the household life are entirely free of fear. Yet there is now this one great evil man, the śramaṇa Gautama, whom the king has not yet examined — we are greatly afraid of him. This man, relying upon his own noble clan and lineage, his own complete beauty of form, and, further, upon the fruit of his own past generosity, receives abundant offerings, and, relying upon these many advantages, gives rise to great arrogance — arrogance arising, too, from his own magical spells — and, on account of exactly this, is unable to practice true austerity, keeping instead fine, soft clothing and bedding. It is for this very reason that every evil person in the world, for the sake of material gain, flocks to where he is, becoming his own followers, themselves unable to practice austerity. Through the very power of his spells, he has already subdued Kāśyapa, Śāriputra, Maudgalyāyana, and others — and now he has come once more to where we are, dwelling in this very sāla grove, proclaiming that this very body is permanence, bliss, self, and purity, luring away our own disciples. Great king, when Gautama previously taught impermanence, no bliss, no self, and no purity, we were able to bear it — but now, that he proclaims permanence, bliss, self, and purity instead, we truly cannot bear it at all. We ask only that the great king permit us to debate with this very Gautama." The king then answered: "Gentlemen, who, exactly, has taught you, that your own minds have become so deranged and unsettled — like surging waves, like a whirling wheel of fire, like a monkey leaping from tree to tree? A matter of this kind is shameful indeed — the wise, hearing of it, would feel only pity, while fools, hearing of it, would only burst into laughter. What you have said bears no mark at all of one who has left the household life. Should you suffer from an illness of wind or of bile, I possess every medicine able to cure it; and should it be a matter of possession by some evil spirit, my own elder brother Jīvaka is skillfully able to remove it. You now wish to scrape Mount Sumeru with your own fingernails, and to gnaw at vajra with your own teeth. Gentlemen, it is exactly like a fool who, seeing the lion king asleep in his own hunger, wishes to go and wake him; exactly like a person placing his own finger in a venomous serpent's mouth; exactly like one who wishes to touch fire hidden beneath ash with his own bare hand — you gentlemen, now, are exactly the same. Good sirs, it is exactly like a wild fox attempting the lion's own roar, exactly like a mosquito racing a garuḍa for speed, exactly like a rabbit trying to swim the ocean to its very bottom — you gentlemen, now, are exactly the same. Should you have dreamed of defeating Gautama, this dream itself is mere delusion, not worth believing at all. Gentlemen, the very intention you now harbor is exactly like a moth flying into a great blazing fire. Follow my own words, and speak of this no further. Though you have praised me as impartial as a scale, do not let outsiders hear you say such things again." The heretics then said, further: "Great king, has the śramaṇa Gautama's own illusion-magic already reached you as well, that the king's own mind now doubts and disbelieves these very holy men? Great king, you ought not to belittle great men such as ourselves in this way. Great king, the waxing and waning of the moon, the salty taste of the great ocean, Mount Meru itself — who, exactly, produced things of this kind? Are these not the work of us brahmins ourselves? Great king, have you not heard that the seer Agastya once held the entire waters of the Ganges within his own ear for twelve years? Great king, have you heard that the seer Gautama once manifested great supernormal power, transforming Indra's own body for twelve years, and further transforming Indra's own body into the form of a ram, with a thousand female organs upon his own body? Great king, have you not heard that the seer Jaṅghā drank the water of all four oceans within a single day, drying up the entire earth? Great king, have you not heard that the seer Vasu fashioned a third eye for Śiva himself? Great king, have you not heard that the seer Ārāḍa transformed the city of Kapila into salt and earth? Great king, among the brahmins there are seers of exactly this kind, possessed of such great power, that may be readily examined and verified — how, then, can the great king so belittle us?" The king said: "Gentlemen, if it is only your own disbelief that drives you to wish for this, the truly and perfectly awakened one is, even now, nearby, in the sāla grove — you may go there and question him as you wish, and the Tathāgata, too, shall answer you in full, according to your own intent." At that time, King Ajātaśatru, together with the assembled heretics and their own followers, went to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to the ground, circled him three times to the right, and, their reverence complete, withdrew to one side, saying to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, these heretics wish to question you as they please — I ask only that the Tathāgata answer them as he sees fit." The Buddha said: "Great king, wait a moment — I myself know the right time for this."

At that time, there was, within the assembly, a brahmin named Jātiśroṇa, who said: "Gautama, do you teach that nirvāṇa is a permanent dharma?" "Just so, just so, great brahmin." The brahmin said: "Gautama, should you teach that nirvāṇa is permanent, this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? In the ways of the world, a fruit is produced from a seed in unbroken succession, exactly as a pot emerges from clay, or a garment from thread. Gautama constantly teaches that, through cultivating the perception of impermanence, one attains nirvāṇa — yet, if the cause is impermanence itself, how could the fruit possibly be permanent? Gautama, further, teaches that liberation from craving for desire is itself nirvāṇa, that liberation from craving for form and for the formless is itself nirvāṇa, and that the extinguishing of ignorance and every affliction is itself nirvāṇa — yet desire, and, all the way through, ignorance and affliction, are all themselves impermanent, and, the cause being impermanent, the nirvāṇa thereby obtained ought likewise to be impermanent. Gautama, further, teaches that one is born in heaven through a cause, falls into hell through a cause, and attains liberation through a cause — and so every dharma arises from a cause. If liberation, too, is attained through a cause, how could it possibly be called permanent? Gautama also teaches that form arises from conditions and is therefore called impermanent, and that feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are exactly the same — and this is precisely what liberation consists of. If this liberation is itself form, one should know it to be impermanent, and feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness would be exactly the same. And should there be a liberation apart from the five aggregates altogether, one should then know that this liberation is simply space itself — yet, being space, it could not be said to arise from any cause or condition at all, since it would then be permanent, single, and pervading every place equally. Gautama also teaches that whatever arises from a cause is itself suffering — yet, if it is suffering, how can it also be said that liberation is itself bliss? Gautama, further, teaches that the impermanent is itself suffering, and the suffering is itself without self — and, being impermanent, suffering, and without self, it is thereby impure as well; every dharma arising from a cause is, in every case, impermanent, suffering, without self, and impure — how, then, can it also be said that nirvāṇa is itself permanence, bliss, self, and purity? Should Gautama teach both permanence and impermanence, both suffering and bliss, both self and no-self, both purity and impurity at once, is this not itself speaking with two contradictory voices? I myself once heard, from the wise elders of old, that, should a buddha appear in the world, his words would never be contradictory — yet Gautama now speaks with two contradictory voices, and further says that the Buddha is himself none other than his own body. What is the meaning of this?" The Buddha said: "Brahmin, exactly as you have spoken, I shall now question you in turn — answer as you see fit." The brahmin said: "Excellent, Gautama." The Buddha said: "Brahmin, is your own primordial nature permanent, or is it impermanent?" The brahmin said: "My own nature is permanent." "Brahmin, is this very nature able to serve as the cause of every internal and external dharma?" "Just so, Gautama." The Buddha said: "Brahmin, in what way does it serve as this cause?" "Gautama, from this nature arises the great principle; from the great principle arises the sense of self; and from the sense of self arise sixteen dharmas — namely earth, water, fire, wind, and space; the five faculties of knowledge — eye, ear, nose, tongue, and body; the five faculties of action — hand, foot, mouth, voice, and the male and female organs; and the faculty of the equalizing mind. These are the sixteen dharmas. From five of these dharmas arise form, sound, smell, taste, and touch — making twenty-one dharmas in all. The root of these is threefold: tainted, coarse, and dark. The tainted is called craving; the coarse is called hatred; the dark is called ignorance. Gautama, these twenty-five dharmas, in every case, arise from this very primordial nature." "Brahmin, are these dharmas — the great principle and the rest — permanent, or impermanent?" "Gautama, in my own system, the primordial nature is permanent, while the great principle and the rest are all impermanent." "Brahmin, in your own system, then, the cause is permanent while the fruit is impermanent. Yet, in my own system, though the cause is impermanent, the fruit is permanent — what fault, exactly, is there in this? Brahmin, does your own system recognize two kinds of cause?" He answered: "It does." The Buddha said: "What are these two?" The brahmin said: "First, the generative cause; and second, the revealing cause." The Buddha said: "What is the generative cause, and what is the revealing cause?" The brahmin said: "The generative cause is exactly like a pot emerging from clay; the revealing cause is exactly like a lamp illuminating an object." The Buddha said: "These two kinds of cause — is their own underlying nature one and the same? If they are one and the same, could the generative cause then serve as the revealing cause, and the revealing cause serve as the generative cause?" "No, Gautama." The Buddha said: "Should the generative cause be unable to serve as the revealing cause, and the revealing cause be unable to serve as the generative cause, can it still be said that each possesses the very mark of a cause?" The brahmin said: "Though neither can serve as the other, each still possesses the mark of a cause." "Brahmin, is that which the revealing cause reveals identical to the very act of revealing itself?" "No, Gautama." The Buddha said: "My own system, too, though nirvāṇa is attained from the impermanent, is not itself impermanent. Brahmin, what is attained through the revealing cause is permanence, bliss, self, and purity; what is attained through the generative cause is impermanence, the absence of bliss, the absence of self, and the absence of purity. It is for this very reason that the Tathāgata's own teaching contains these two — yet these two voices are, in truth, not two at all, and it is for this reason that the Tathāgata is called one without two contradictory voices. As you yourself have said, having once heard from the wise elders of old that a buddha appearing in the world speaks with no contradictory voice — this saying is itself excellent. Every buddha of the ten directions and the three times teaches without any difference at all, and it is for this reason that it is said the Buddha speaks with no contradictory voice. In what sense is there no difference? Where one buddha says a thing exists, every buddha alike says it exists; where one says a thing does not exist, every buddha alike says it does not exist — and it is for this reason that it is called a single, unified meaning. Brahmin, though the Tathāgata, the World-Honored One, is said to speak with two voices, this is for the sake of revealing a single meaning. In what way do two voices reveal a single meaning? Exactly as the two separate words 'eye' and 'form' together give rise to the single word 'consciousness,' and, all the way through, exactly the same holds for 'mind' and 'dharma' as well."

The brahmin said: "Gautama, you are indeed skillfully able to distinguish the meaning of these words — yet I still do not understand how these two voices you have spoken actually reveal a single meaning." The World-Honored One then proclaimed the teaching of the four noble truths: "Brahmin, the truth of suffering is both two and one; and, all the way through, the truth of the path is likewise both two and one." The brahmin said: "World-Honored One, I have now come to understand." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way have you come to understand?" The brahmin said: "World-Honored One, the truth of suffering is two for every ordinary being, and one for the noble ones; and, all the way through, the truth of the path is exactly the same." The Buddha said: "Excellent! You have indeed understood." The brahmin said: "World-Honored One, having now heard this teaching, I have attained right view — I now take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the saṅgha as jewels, and ask only, in your great compassion, that you permit me to leave the household life." The World-Honored One then said to Kauṇḍinya: "You ought now to shave this very Jātiśroṇa's own hair and beard, and permit him to leave the household life." Kauṇḍinya then received the Buddha's own instruction, and shaved his hair for him. At the very moment his hand touched him, two things fell away at once: his hair and beard, and his own affliction. He attained, on the very spot where he sat, the fruit of arhatship.

There was, further, a brahmin ascetic of the Vātsīputra clan, who said: "Does the Tathāgata teach that nirvāṇa is permanent?" "Just so, ascetic." Vātsīputra said: "Does Gautama not teach that nirvāṇa is simply the absence of affliction?" "Just so, ascetic." Vātsīputra said: "Gautama, in the world, there are four kinds of what is called 'non-existent': first, a dharma not yet arisen is called non-existent, exactly as a pot, before it emerges from the clay, is called a non-existent pot; second, a dharma already ceased is called non-existent, exactly as a pot, once broken, is called a non-existent pot; third, mutual non-existence between distinct things is called non-existent, exactly as a horse does not exist within an ox, nor an ox within a horse; and fourth, absolute non-existence is called non-existent, exactly as with a tortoise's hair or a rabbit's horn. Gautama, if nirvāṇa is simply named for the removal of affliction, then nirvāṇa itself is a mere non-existence — and, being a mere non-existence, how can it be said to possess permanence, bliss, self, and purity?" The Buddha said: "Good son, nirvāṇa of this kind is not the first kind of non-existence, like a pot not yet emerged from clay; nor is it the second kind, like a pot already broken and gone; nor is it the fourth kind, absolute non-existence, like a tortoise's hair or a rabbit's horn, identical to that other kind of non-existence. Good son, exactly as you yourself have said — though a horse does not exist within an ox, one cannot thereby say that the ox itself is non-existent; and though an ox does not exist within a horse, one cannot thereby say that the horse itself is non-existent — nirvāṇa is exactly the same: nirvāṇa does not exist within affliction, and affliction does not exist within nirvāṇa, and it is for this reason that this is called the third kind, mutual non-existence between distinct things." Vātsīputra said: "Gautama, should nirvāṇa be this very mutual non-existence, then mutual non-existence, in itself, possesses no permanence, bliss, self, or purity at all. Gautama, how, then, can it be said that nirvāṇa possesses permanence, bliss, self, and purity?" The Buddha said: "Good son, as you yourself have said, this mutual non-existence actually contains three kinds of non-existence within it: an ox and a horse are both originally non-existent and later come to exist — this is the first kind, non-existence-before-arising; having existed, they later cease to exist — this is the second kind, non-existence-through-destruction; and the mutual non-existence itself is exactly as you have described. Good son, nirvāṇa contains none of these three kinds of non-existence at all, and it is for this very reason that nirvāṇa possesses permanence, bliss, self, and purity. It is exactly like the sick people of the world, who suffer from three kinds of illness: heat-disorder, wind-disorder, and cold-disorder. These three illnesses are cured by three kinds of medicine: one with a heat-disorder is cured by ghee, one with a wind-disorder is cured by oil, and one with a cold-disorder is cured by honey — these three medicines are able to cure these three evil illnesses. Good son, there is no oil within wind, and no wind within oil; and, all the way through, there is no cold within honey, and no honey within cold — and it is precisely for this reason that they are able to cure. Every being is exactly the same, possessing three kinds of illness: craving, hatred, and delusion. These three illnesses have three kinds of medicine: the contemplation of impurity serves as the medicine for craving; the contemplation of loving-kindness serves as the medicine for hatred; and the wisdom that contemplates causes and conditions serves as the medicine for delusion. Good son, to remove craving, one cultivates a contemplation that is not craving; to remove hatred, one cultivates a contemplation that is not hatred; and to remove delusion, one cultivates a contemplation that is not delusion. These three illnesses contain none of these three medicines within them, and these three medicines contain none of these three illnesses within them. Good son, it is precisely because these three illnesses contain none of these three medicines that they are impermanent, without self, without bliss, and without purity; and it is precisely because these three medicines contain none of these three illnesses that they may rightly be called permanence, bliss, self, and purity."

Vātsīputra said: "World-Honored One, please teach me what is permanent and what is impermanent — what, exactly, is permanence, and what is impermanence?" The Buddha said: "Good son, form is impermanent, while liberated form is permanent; and, all the way through, consciousness is impermanent, while liberated consciousness is permanent. Good son, should any good son or good daughter be able to contemplate form, and, all the way through, consciousness, as impermanent, one should know that this person has thereby attained the permanent dharma." Vātsīputra said: "World-Honored One, I now understand what is permanent and what is impermanent." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way do you understand what is permanent and what is impermanent?" Vātsīputra said: "World-Honored One, I now know that my own form is impermanent, and that liberation from it is permanent — and, all the way through, consciousness is exactly the same." The Buddha said: "Good son, excellent indeed — you have already repaid this very body of yours." He then said to Kauṇḍinya: "This Vātsīputra has already realized the fruit of arhatship — you may now give him the three robes and the alms bowl." Kauṇḍinya, following the Buddha's own instruction, gave him the robes and bowl. Vātsīputra, having received the robes and bowl, said: "Venerable Kauṇḍinya, it is on account of this very vile and wretched body of mine that I have attained this wholesome fruit. I ask only, venerable one, that you go on my behalf to where the World-Honored One is, and convey my own heart's intention in full: 'Having been so evil a man as to have offended the Tathāgata's own clan-name, Gautama, I ask only that he forgive this offense of mine on my behalf — and, being unable to dwell any longer within this poisonous body, I shall now enter nirvāṇa.'" Kauṇḍinya then went to where the Buddha was, and said: "World-Honored One, the monk Vātsīputra has given rise to a mind of deep shame, saying, of himself: 'Being so stubborn and foolish as to have offended the Tathāgata's own clan-name, Gautama, and being unable to dwell any longer within this venomous, serpent-like body, I now wish to extinguish this body, and entrust my own confession to you.'" The Buddha said: "Kauṇḍinya, the monk Vātsīputra has already, in ages past, accomplished wholesome roots at the feet of countless buddhas — and now, having received my own teaching, abides in accordance with the Dharma, and, through this very abiding, has attained the true fruit. You all ought now to make offerings to this very body of his." Kauṇḍinya, upon hearing this from the Buddha, returned to where his body was, and arranged offerings for him. At the very moment Vātsīputra's body was cremated, he performed every kind of supernormal feat. The assembled heretics, seeing this, cried out loudly: "This Vātsīputra has already obtained the śramaṇa Gautama's own magical spells — this man shall, before long, surpass the śramaṇa Gautama himself!"

At that time, there was, further, within the assembly, a brahmin ascetic named Senika, who said: "Gautama, does a self exist?" The Tathāgata remained silent. "Gautama, does no self exist?" The Tathāgata remained silent. He asked a second and a third time in exactly the same way, and the Buddha remained silent each time. Senika said: "Gautama, if every being possesses a self — pervading every place, single, and an agent — why, then, does Gautama remain silent and refuse to answer?" The Buddha said: "Senika, do you yourself teach that this self pervades every place?" Senika answered: "Gautama, it is not I alone who teach this — every wise person teaches it in exactly this way." The Buddha said: "Good son, were this self truly to pervade every place, it ought to receive the retribution of all five destinies at one and the same moment — and, were this so, for what reason, then, do you brahmins refrain from committing every evil, to avoid falling into hell, and cultivate every wholesome dharma, to receive a heavenly body instead?" Senika said: "Gautama, in my own system, the self is, in fact, of two kinds: the acting-body self, and the eternal-body self. It is for the sake of the acting-body self that one cultivates departure from evil dharmas, so as not to enter hell, and cultivates every wholesome dharma, so as to be born in heaven." The Buddha said: "Good son, as you yourself say that this self pervades every place — should this self exist within the acting body, one should know it to be impermanent; and should it not exist within the acting body, how, then, could it be said to pervade everywhere at all?" "Gautama, the very self I posit exists within the acting body, and is also an eternal dharma. Gautama, it is exactly like a person whose house catches fire — when the house burns, its owner escapes, and one cannot then say that, because the house was burned, its owner, too, was burned. My own system is exactly the same: though this acting body is indeed impermanent, at the very moment of its impermanence, the self simply departs from it — and it is for this reason that this self is both pervading and eternal at once." The Buddha said: "Good son, your claim that the self is both pervading and eternal at once does not hold. Why is this? 'Pervading' is, in fact, of two kinds: the permanent, and the impermanent; and, further, of two kinds: the material, and the immaterial. Therefore, should you say that a thing pervades everything, it would then be both permanent and impermanent at once, both material and immaterial at once. And should you say that the house's own owner is able to escape and is therefore not called impermanent, this reasoning does not hold either. Why is this? Because the house is not the owner, and the owner is not the house — one burns while the other escapes, and it is precisely because they are distinct that this can happen. Your self, however, is not like this at all. Why is this? Because, on your own account, the self is itself form, and form is itself the self — the formless is itself the self, and the self is itself the formless. How, then, could you possibly say that, at the very moment form becomes impermanent, the self simply escapes from it? Good son, should your own intention be that every being shares one and the same self, this would directly contradict both worldly and transcendent dharma alike. Why is this? Because worldly convention speaks of father, son, mother, and daughter — yet, were the self truly one and the same for all, the father would be the son, and the son the father; the mother would be the daughter, and the daughter the mother; the enemy would be the friend, and the friend the enemy; this very thing would be that thing, and that thing this very thing. Therefore, should it be said that every being shares one and the same self, this directly contradicts both worldly and transcendent dharma." Senika said: "I, too, do not teach that every being shares one and the same self — I teach, rather, that each single person possesses his own individual self." The Buddha said: "Good son, should it be said that each single person possesses his own individual self, this would then amount to many selves, and this reasoning, too, does not hold. Why is this? As you yourself previously said, the self pervades everything — and, were it to pervade everything, every being's own karmic faculties ought to be identical: when a god sees something, a buddha ought likewise to see it; when a god acts, a buddha ought likewise to act; when a god hears something, a buddha ought likewise to hear it — and every other dharma ought to be exactly the same. And, should what a god sees not be what a buddha sees, one ought not to say that the self pervades every place at all — and, should it not pervade everywhere, it is thereby impermanent." Senika said: "Gautama, every being's own self does indeed pervade everything — yet dharma and non-dharma themselves do not pervade everything, and it is on account of this very reasoning that a buddha's own action differs from a god's own action. It is for this reason, Gautama, that one ought not to say that, when a buddha sees something, a god ought likewise to see it, or that, when a buddha hears something, a god ought likewise to hear it." The Buddha said: "Good son, are dharma and non-dharma not themselves produced by karma?" Senika said: "Gautama, they are indeed produced by karma." The Buddha said: "Good son, should dharma and non-dharma be produced by karma, they would then be the very same kind of thing — how, then, can they be called different? Why is this? Wherever a buddha's own karma operates, a god's own self is likewise present there; and wherever a god's own karma operates, a buddha's own self is likewise present there — and so, when a buddha acts, a god ought likewise to act, and dharma and non-dharma ought to be exactly the same. Good son, therefore, if every being, and dharma and non-dharma alike, are as you describe, the fruit each obtains, too, ought to be no different from another's. Good son, it is exactly like how, from a seed, a fruit is produced — yet this very seed never once reflects or distinguishes, saying: 'I shall produce only the fruit of a brahmin, and shall never produce a fruit for a kṣatriya, a vaiśya, or a śūdra.' Why is this? Because, in producing a fruit from a seed, there is never any such obstruction between these four castes at all — dharma and non-dharma, too, are exactly the same, unable to distinguish and say: 'I shall produce a fruit only for a buddha's own self, and not for a god's own self,' or 'I shall produce a fruit for a god's own self, and not for a buddha's own self.' Why is this? Because karma is impartial and equal for all." Senika said: "Gautama, it is exactly like a single room containing a hundred thousand lamps — though their wicks each differ, their light is entirely undifferentiated. The distinctness of the lamp-wicks is a simile for dharma and non-dharma; the undifferentiated light is a simile for beings' own shared self." The Buddha said: "Good son, your use of lamplight as a simile for the self does not hold. Why is this? A room is one thing, a lamp another. This very lamp's own light exists both beside its own wick and pervading the entire room at once. Were your own self truly like this, then a self ought to exist on the side of both dharma and non-dharma alike, and dharma and non-dharma, too, ought to exist within the self. Should dharma and non-dharma possess no self at all, one could not then say that the self pervades every place; and should both truly possess it, how, then, could you still use the wick and its light as your simile at all? Good son, should your own intention be that the wick and its light are truly, fundamentally distinct from one another, then for what reason does the light grow brighter as the wick grows, and grow dim as the wick withers? It is for this very reason that you ought not to use the lamp-wick as a simile for dharma and non-dharma, and the undifferentiated light as a simile for the self. Why is this? Because dharma, non-dharma, and the self are, in fact, one and the same single thing." Senika said: "Gautama, this lamp-simile you have offered is itself inauspicious. Why is this? Were the lamp-simile auspicious, I myself would already have offered it first — and, since it is inauspicious, why do you offer it at all?" "Good son, the simile I have offered is neither made auspicious nor inauspicious by me at all — speak of it however you yourself see fit. This very simile can equally well be stated as 'light exists apart from the wick,' or as 'light exists only together with the wick.' Since your own mind is not impartial, you speak of the wick and the light as a simile for dharma and non-dharma on one side, and for the self on the other. It is for this very reason that I now correct you: the wick is itself the light, and light exists apart from the wick as well; dharma is itself the self, and the self is itself dharma; non-dharma is itself the self, and the self is itself non-dharma. Why, then, do you now accept only one side of this and refuse the other? A simile handled in this way is inauspicious for you, not for me — and it is for this very reason that I now use it, in turn, to refute you. Good son, a simile of this kind is, in truth, no genuine simile at all — and, being no genuine simile, it is auspicious for me, and inauspicious for you. Good son, should your own intention be that, if it is inauspicious for me, it must equally be inauspicious for you as well, this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? One sees, in the world, a person cutting himself with his own blade, using on himself what was meant for another — the very simile you yourself have offered is exactly the same, auspicious for me, and inauspicious for you." Senika said: "Gautama, you previously accused me of an unequal, partial mind — yet what you yourself have just said is equally partial. Why is this? Gautama now turns what is auspicious toward himself, and what is inauspicious toward me — and, reasoning from this, it is you who are truly partial." The Buddha said: "Good son, exactly as my own partiality is able to refute your own partiality, and thereby brings you to impartiality, this very partiality of mine is itself auspicious. My own partiality refutes your partiality and brings you to impartiality — and this is itself my own impartiality. Why is this? Because it thereby accords with the impartiality every noble one has already attained." Senika said: "Gautama, I myself am always impartial — how can you say that you have destroyed my own impartiality? Every being equally possesses this self in perfect impartiality — how, then, can you say that I am partial at all?" "Good son, you yourself also say that one is destined to receive the retribution of hell, of hungry ghosts, of animals, and of humans and gods — yet, were this self of yours already pervading all five destinies from the very start, how, then, could you still speak of being 'destined' to receive any of these states at all? You yourself also say that a child is born only once father and mother have come together — yet, if the child already existed beforehand, how can it then be said that it only comes to exist once they have come together? Therefore, should a single person already possess bodies in all five destinies at once, for what reason, then, would he still need to create karma for the sake of any one particular body? It is for this very reason that your view is not impartial at all. Good son, should your own intention be that the self is itself an agent, this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? Were the self truly an agent, for what reason would it inflict suffering upon itself? Yet beings do, in fact, genuinely experience suffering — and therefore one should know that the self is not an agent at all. And should it be said that this suffering is not caused by the self, and does not arise from any cause at all, then every other dharma, too, ought to be exactly the same, arising from no cause whatsoever — for what reason, then, would you still say that the self is the agent of anything at all? Good son, beings' own suffering and pleasure genuinely arise from causes and conditions — and suffering and pleasure of this kind are able to produce sorrow and joy in turn, with no joy present at the moment of sorrow, and no sorrow present at the moment of joy. Being, at times, joyful, and, at other times, sorrowful — how could the wise possibly call this permanent? Good son, you yourself say that the self is permanent — yet, if it is truly permanent, how can it be said to pass through ten distinct stages? A permanent dharma ought never to pass through the kalala stage, and, all the way through, the stage of old age — even space itself, a permanent dharma, has not even a single such stage, how much less, then, ten stages? Good son, the self, if it is not itself the kalala stage, and, all the way through, not itself the stage of old age, how, then, can it be said to pass through these ten distinct stages at all? Good son, were the self truly an agent, this self, too, ought to have periods of flourishing and periods of decline, exactly as beings themselves have periods of flourishing and decline — and, were this truly so, how could it possibly be called permanent? Good son, were the self truly an agent, why, then, does one single person possess sharp faculties while another possesses dull ones? Good son, were the self truly an agent, this self would be able to produce bodily karma and verbal karma — and, were verbal karma truly produced by the self, why, then, does the mouth itself say that no self exists at all, and why does it doubt, of its own accord, whether the self exists or not? Good son, should your own intention be that seeing exists apart from the eye, this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? Were there truly a separate seeing apart from the eye, what need would there be for this very eye at all — and, all the way through, exactly the same holds for the body's own faculty of touch. And should your own intention be that, though the self itself is able to see, it necessarily sees only through the eye, this, too, does not hold. Why is this? It is exactly like someone saying that the campaka flower is able to burn down an entire village — in what sense could it possibly burn it down? Only through fire is it able to burn. Your own claim that the self sees is exactly the same."

Senika said: "Gautama, it is exactly like a person grasping a sickle, thereby able to cut grass — my own self, through the five faculties, seeing, hearing, and all the way through to touch, is exactly the same." "Good son, a person and a sickle are two distinct things, and it is precisely for this reason that grasping the sickle accomplishes something. Apart from the faculties themselves, there exists no further, separate self at all — how, then, can you say that the self accomplishes something through the faculties? Good son, should your own intention be that grasping the sickle is able to cut, and the self is exactly the same — does this self have hands, or does it not? If it has hands, why does it not grasp the sickle itself? And if it has no hands, how can it be called an agent at all? Good son, that which is actually able to cut the grass is simply the sickle itself, not the self, and not the person. Were the self and the person themselves capable of cutting, what need would there be for the sickle at all? Good son, a person performs two actions: grasping the grass, and grasping the sickle — and it is the sickle alone that possesses the power to cut. Beings' own act of seeing is exactly the same: the eye is able to see form, arising from a coming-together of factors. If seeing arises from the very coming-together of causes and conditions, how could the wise possibly say that a self exists there at all? Good son, should your own intention be that the body acts while the self receives the result, this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? One never sees, in the world, a god's own karma being performed while a buddha's own self receives its fruit. And should it be said that it is not the body that acts, and that the self does not receive through any causal process at all, then for what reason do you yourselves seek liberation through causes and conditions at all? If this very body of yours was not originally produced by causes and conditions, then, once liberation is attained, a further body ought likewise to arise again without any cause at all — and, exactly as with the body, every affliction, too, ought to be exactly the same." Senika said: "Gautama, my own self is, in fact, of two kinds: the knowing self, and the unknowing self. The unknowing self is able to acquire a body; the knowing self is able to relinquish the body entirely. It is exactly like an unfired clay pot — once it has been fired, it loses its original raw color and never returns to it again. A wise person's own affliction is exactly the same: once it has been extinguished and destroyed, it never arises again." The Buddha said: "Good son, as for this thing you call 'knowing' — is it wisdom itself that knows, or is it the self that knows? If it is wisdom that knows, why, then, do you say that the self is the knower? And if it is the self that knows, why, then, does it still need to seek out wisdom through skillful means at all? Should your own intention be that the self knows by means of wisdom, this is exactly the same flawed logic as the flower-simile already refuted. Good son, it is exactly like a thorn tree, whose own nature is itself to be thorny — one would never say that the tree 'grasps' its own thorns in order to be thorny. Wisdom, too, is exactly the same: wisdom itself is simply what knows — how, then, can you say that the self 'grasps' wisdom in order to know? Good son, in your own system, when the self attains liberation, does an unknowing self attain it, or does a knowing self attain it? If an unknowing self attains it, one should then know that it still possesses affliction in full; and if a knowing self attains it, one should then know that it still possesses the five faculties and every sense-organ intact — why is this? Because, apart from the faculties themselves, there exists no separate knowing at all. And, possessing every faculty intact, how, then, could it still be called attaining liberation at all? And should it be said that this self, its own nature pure, is entirely apart from the five faculties, how, then, can it be said to exist pervading all five destinies at once? And for what cause and condition would it still need to cultivate every wholesome dharma for the sake of liberation at all? Good son, it is exactly like a person trying to pull a thorn out of empty space — you are exactly the same. If the self is already pure from the very start, how can you still speak of severing any affliction at all? And should your own intention be that liberation is attained without depending on any cause or condition whatsoever, then why do not every animal, too, attain it?" Senika said: "Gautama, if there is no self, who, then, is able to remember?" The Buddha said to Senika: "If a self truly existed, why, then, would it ever forget anything at all? Good son, if this very self were what remembers, for what reason does it remember what it would rather forget, remember what it does not wish to remember, and fail to remember what it does wish to remember?" Senika said, further: "Gautama, if there is no self, who, then, sees, and who hears?" The Buddha said: "Good son, internally there are the six sense-bases, and externally there are the six sense-objects — and, through the coming-together of what is internal and external, the six kinds of consciousness arise, these six kinds of consciousness receiving their own name from this very cause and condition. Good son, it is exactly like a single fire: when it burns on wood, it is called a wood-fire; when it burns on grass, it is called a grass-fire; when it burns on chaff, it is called a chaff-fire; and when it burns on cow-dung, it is called a cow-dung fire. Beings' own mental consciousness is exactly the same: through the eye, through form, through light, and through the wish to see, it is called eye-consciousness. Good son, this very eye-consciousness does not reside within the eye, nor, all the way through, within the very wish to see — it is only through the coming-together of these four factors that this consciousness is produced, and, all the way through, mental consciousness is exactly the same. If it arises through the very coming-together of causes and conditions, the wise ought never to say that seeing is itself the self, nor, all the way through, that touching is itself the self. Good son, it is for this very reason that I teach that eye-consciousness, and, all the way through, mental consciousness — every dharma whatsoever — is itself simply an illusion. In what sense is it like an illusion? Originally non-existent, it now comes to exist; and, having come to exist, it returns again to non-existence. Good son, it is exactly like ghee, flour, honey, ginger, pepper, long pepper, grapes, walnuts, pomegranate, and various seeds — combined together, these are called a 'joy-ball'; apart from this very combination, there is no such thing as a joy-ball at all. The internal and external six sense-bases are exactly the same: this is what is called a being, a self, a person, an individual — yet, apart from these internal and external sense-bases, there exists no separate being, self, person, or individual at all."

Senika said: "Gautama, if there is no self, how can it be said that 'I see,' 'I hear,' 'I suffer,' 'I feel pleasure,' 'I feel sorrow,' 'I feel joy'?" The Buddha said: "Good son, should saying 'I see' and 'I hear' prove that a self exists, why, then, does the world also say, of a person's own crime: 'This was not seen or heard by me at all'? Good son, it is exactly like how four divisions of an army, combined together, are called a single army — though these four divisions are not themselves a single thing, one still says: 'My own army is brave and strong,' or 'My own army has defeated the enemy.' The activity produced through the coming-together of the internal and external sense-bases is exactly the same: though it is not a single, unified thing, one may still say 'I act,' 'I receive,' 'I see,' 'I hear,' 'I suffer,' and 'I feel pleasure.'" Senika said: "Gautama, as you yourself have said, it is the coming-together of what is internal and external — who, then, is it that actually utters the sound and says 'I act,' 'I receive'?" The Buddha said: "Senika, from craving and ignorance, as cause and condition, karma arises; from karma, becoming arises; from becoming, countless mental factors arise; from the mind arises discursive thought; discursive thought stirs the wind of the breath; and this wind, following the mind, strikes the throat, tongue, teeth, and lips. Beings, through their own inverted perception, then produce a sound and say: 'I act,' 'I receive,' 'I see,' 'I hear.' Good son, it is exactly like the bell atop a banner-pole: through the very cause and condition of the wind, a sound is produced — a great wind produces a great sound, a small wind produces a small sound, and there is no agent behind it at all. Good son, it is exactly like heated iron plunged into water, producing every kind of sound — yet, in truth, there is no agent there at all. Good son, ordinary beings, unable to reflect upon and distinguish matters of exactly this kind, thereby say that a self exists, and something belonging to a self, saying 'I act' and 'I receive.'" Senika said: "As Gautama has taught, there is no self, and nothing belonging to a self — for what reason, then, does he also teach permanence, bliss, self, and purity?" The Buddha said: "Good son, I, too, do not teach that the internal and external six sense-bases, and the six kinds of consciousness, are themselves permanence, bliss, self, and purity — I teach, rather, that the extinguishing of the six kinds of consciousness produced by the internal and external sense-bases is what is called permanence. Because of this very permanence, it is called self; because there is this permanent self, it is called bliss; and because there is this permanent, blissful self, it is called purity. Good son, a being who grows weary of suffering, severs this very cause of suffering, and attains mastery and freedom from it — this is what is called the self. It is on account of exactly this that I now proclaim permanence, bliss, self, and purity." Senika said: "World-Honored One, I ask only, in your great compassion, that you teach me how I might attain this very permanence, bliss, self, and purity." The Buddha said: "Good son, the entire world, from the very beginning, has been fully possessed of great arrogance, constantly increasing this arrogance, and further creating the causes and karma of arrogance — and it is for this reason that, in the present, one receives the fruit of this very arrogance, unable to depart from every affliction and attain permanence, bliss, self, and purity. Should any being wish to depart from every affliction, he ought first to depart from arrogance." Senika said: "World-Honored One, just so, just so — truly as the holy teaching says. I myself once harbored such arrogance, and it was on account of this very arrogance that I addressed the Tathāgata by his own clan-name, Gautama. I have now already departed from this very great arrogance, and it is for this reason that I sincerely make this request, seeking the Dharma — how, then, may I attain this very permanence, bliss, self, and purity?" The Buddha said: "Good son, listen closely, listen closely! I shall now explain and distinguish this for you. Good son, should you be able to see that a thing is neither self, nor other, nor any being at all, you shall thereby depart from this very dharma of suffering." Senika said: "World-Honored One, I have now come to know and understand — I have attained the true Dharma-eye." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way do you say that you have come to know and understand, and have attained the true Dharma-eye?" "World-Honored One, this very form is neither self, nor other, nor any being at all — and, all the way through, consciousness is exactly the same. Contemplating in this way, I have attained the true Dharma-eye. World-Honored One, I now greatly wish to leave the household life and cultivate the path — I ask only that you grant me leave to do so." The Buddha said: "Welcome, monk." At that very moment, he became fully endowed with pure, holy conduct, and realized the fruit of arhatship.

Among the assembled heretics, there was, further, a brahmin ascetic of the Kāśyapa clan, who said: "Gautama, is the body identical to the life-force, or is the body distinct from the life-force?" The Tathāgata remained silent. He asked a second and a third time in exactly the same way. The brahmin ascetic said, further: "Gautama, when a person relinquishes this body, and has not yet obtained a further body, in this very interval, how could the body and the life-force possibly not be called distinct? If they are indeed distinct, Gautama, why, then, do you remain silent and refuse to answer?" "Good son, I teach that both body and life-force arise entirely from causes and conditions, never apart from causes and conditions — and, exactly as with body and life-force, every other dharma is exactly the same." The brahmin ascetic said, further: "Gautama, I myself have observed a dharma in the world that does not arise from any cause or condition at all." The Buddha said: "Ascetic, what, exactly, have you observed in the world that does not arise from any cause or condition?" The brahmin ascetic said: "I have observed a great fire consuming a thicket of trees, and the wind blowing its flame free, so that it falls in some other place entirely — is this not itself something without any cause or condition at all?" The Buddha said: "Good son, I teach that this very fire, too, arises from a cause, and never apart from a cause." The brahmin ascetic said: "Gautama, when this flame breaks free and travels elsewhere, it no longer depends on any firewood or charcoal at all — how, then, can it still be said to depend on any cause or condition?" The Buddha said: "Good son, though it no longer depends on firewood or charcoal, it depends instead on the wind to carry it — and it is through the very cause and condition of this wind that its flame does not go out." "Gautama, when a person relinquishes this body and has not yet obtained a further body, what, then, serves as the cause and condition sustaining the life-force in this very interval?" The Buddha said: "Ascetic, ignorance and craving serve as this very cause and condition. It is through the cause and condition of these two, ignorance and craving, that the life-force continues to be sustained. Good son, there is a sense, by cause and condition, in which the body is identical to the life-force, and the life-force identical to the body; and there is a sense, by cause and condition, in which the body is distinct from the life-force. The wise ought never to declare, in a single, fixed way, that the body and the life-force are simply distinct." The brahmin ascetic said: "World-Honored One, I ask only that you explain and distinguish this for me, so that I may come to know cause and fruit with perfect clarity." The Buddha said: "Ascetic, the cause is simply the five aggregates, and the fruit, too, is simply the five aggregates. Good son, should any being not kindle the fire at all, there would then be no smoke." The brahmin ascetic said: "World-Honored One, I have now come to know this, and have come to understand it." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way do you know it, and in what way do you understand it?" "World-Honored One, this very fire is simply affliction itself, able to burn in hell, among hungry ghosts, among animals, and among humans and gods; the smoke is simply affliction's own fruit of retribution, impermanent, impure, foul, and repugnant — and it is for this reason that it is called smoke. Should any being refrain from producing affliction at all, this person would then have no fruit of affliction's own retribution — and it is for this very reason that the Tathāgata teaches that, where no fire is kindled, there is no smoke at all. World-Honored One, I have now attained right view — I ask only, in your compassionate regard, that you permit me to leave the household life." The World-Honored One then said to Kauṇḍinya: "Permit this brahmin ascetic to leave the household life and receive the precepts." Kauṇḍinya, having received the Buddha's own instruction, gathered the assembled saṅgha together, permitted him to leave the household life, and conferred upon him the full precepts — and, after five days had passed, he attained the fruit of arhatship.

Among the assembled heretics, there was, further, a brahmin ascetic named Pūrṇa, who said: "Gautama, having seen the world to be a permanent dharma, do you teach that it is permanent? And is this meaning true, or is it false? Is the world permanent, impermanent, both permanent and impermanent, or neither permanent nor impermanent? Is it bounded, unbounded, both bounded and unbounded, or neither bounded nor unbounded? Is the body identical to the life-force, or is the body distinct from the life-force? After the Tathāgata's own parinirvāṇa, does he go on existing, does he cease to exist, does he both go on existing and cease to exist, or does he neither go on existing nor cease to exist?" The Buddha said: "Pūrṇa, I do not teach that the world is permanent, false, true, or impermanent; that it is both permanent and impermanent, or neither permanent nor impermanent; that it is bounded, unbounded, both bounded and unbounded, or neither bounded nor unbounded; that the body is identical to the life-force, or that the body is distinct from the life-force; or that, after the Tathāgata's own parinirvāṇa, he goes on existing, ceases to exist, both goes on existing and ceases to exist, or neither goes on existing nor ceases to exist." Pūrṇa said, further: "Gautama, what fault, exactly, do you now see in these questions, that you refuse to make any such statement at all?" The Buddha said: "Pūrṇa, should anyone say that the world is permanent, and that this alone is true while every other statement is false, this is itself called a view. To be fixed upon the very place this view sees is called the activity of view, the karma of view, the attachment of view, the bondage of view, the suffering of view, the grasping of view, the terror of view, the heat of view, and the entanglement of view. Pūrṇa, ordinary beings, entangled by view in exactly this way, are unable to depart from birth, old age, sickness, and death, and circle endlessly through the six destinies, receiving boundless suffering — and, all the way through to 'neither going on existing nor ceasing to exist,' every one of these views is exactly the same. Pūrṇa, I see that a view of this kind carries faults of exactly this sort, and it is for this very reason that I do not cling to it, and do not teach it to others." "Gautama, if you see faults of this kind, and neither cling to nor teach any of these views, what, then, does Gautama himself see, cling to, and actually proclaim?" The Buddha said: "Good son, clinging to a view of this kind is itself called the dharma of birth and death — and, the Tathāgata already being departed from the dharma of birth and death, he does not cling to any such view at all. Good son, the Tathāgata is called one who is able to see and able to teach, yet is never called one who clings." "Gautama, in what way are you able to see, and in what way are you able to teach?" The Buddha said: "Good son, I am able to clearly see suffering, its arising, its cessation, and the path, and to distinguish and proclaim these four noble truths. Seeing in this way, I am thereby able to depart far from every view, every craving, every current, and every arrogance — and it is for this very reason that I am fully endowed with pure, holy conduct, the unsurpassed stillness, and have attained a permanent body — a body that is likewise neither east, west, south, nor north." Pūrṇa said: "Gautama, for what cause and condition is this permanent body neither east, west, south, nor north?" The Buddha said: "Good son, I shall now question you in turn — answer as you see fit. What do you think, good son? Suppose a great mass of fire were burning before you — at the very moment it burns, do you know that it is burning?" "Just so, Gautama." "And, at the moment this fire goes out, do you know that it has gone out?" "Just so, Gautama." "Pūrṇa, should someone ask you, of this fire that burned before you: from where did it come when it burned, and to where did it go when it was extinguished — how would you answer?" "Gautama, should someone ask me this, I would answer: this fire, at the moment of its arising, depended upon a gathering of many conditions; and, once its original conditions were exhausted and no new conditions had yet arrived, this fire was thereby extinguished." "And should someone further ask: once this fire was extinguished, to which direction did it go — how, then, would you answer?" "Gautama, I would answer: it was extinguished because its conditions were exhausted, and it went to no direction at all." "Good son, the Tathāgata is exactly the same. There is a sense in which impermanent form, and, all the way through, impermanent consciousness, burns on account of craving — and, so burning, one receives the twenty-five states of existence; and it is in this very sense, while burning, that this fire may be spoken of as east, west, south, or north. Yet, once present craving is extinguished, the fruit of these twenty-five states of existence no longer burns at all — and, no longer burning, one cannot speak of it as having any direction, east, west, south, or north. Good son, the Tathāgata has already extinguished impermanent form, all the way through to impermanent consciousness, and it is for this reason that his own body is permanent — and, this body being permanent, one cannot speak of it as having any direction, east, west, south, or north, at all." Pūrṇa said: "Please allow me to offer a simile — I ask only that you accept it." The Buddha said: "Excellent, excellent! Speak as you wish." "World-Honored One, it is exactly like a sāla grove outside a great village, within which stands a single tree, having grown there a full hundred years before the grove itself arose around it. The keeper of this grove waters it and tends to it according to the season, and this tree, grown old and decayed, sheds its own bark, branches, and leaves entirely, so that only its true, solid heartwood remains. The Tathāgata is exactly the same: everything old and decayed within him has already been entirely removed, and only the true, real Dharma remains. World-Honored One, I now greatly wish to leave the household life and cultivate the path." The Buddha said: "Welcome, monk." Having spoken these words, Pūrṇa left the household life at that very moment, and, his outflows exhausted, realized the fruit of arhatship.

There was, further, a brahmin ascetic named Śuddha, who said: "Gautama, on account of not knowing what dharma do beings see the world as permanent, impermanent, both permanent and impermanent, neither permanent nor impermanent, and, all the way through, as neither going on existing nor ceasing to exist?" The Buddha said: "Good son, it is on account of not knowing form, and, all the way through, not knowing consciousness, that one sees the world as permanent, and, all the way through, as neither going on existing nor ceasing to exist." The ascetic said: "Gautama, on account of knowing what dharma do beings not see the world as permanent, and, all the way through, as neither going on existing nor ceasing to exist?" The Buddha said: "Good son, it is on account of knowing form, and, all the way through, knowing consciousness, that one does not see the world as permanent, and, all the way through, as neither going on existing nor ceasing to exist." The ascetic said: "World-Honored One, I ask only that you explain and distinguish for me what the world's own permanence and impermanence actually consist of." The Buddha said: "Good son, should a person relinquish the old and create no new karma, this person is thereby able to truly know both permanence and impermanence." The ascetic said: "World-Honored One, I have now come to know and to see this." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way do you see it? In what way do you know it?" "World-Honored One, the old is called ignorance and craving; the new is called grasping and becoming. Should a person depart far from this very ignorance and craving, and no longer produce grasping and becoming, this person truly knows both permanence and impermanence. I have now attained the true Dharma's own pure eye — I take refuge in the three jewels, and ask only that the Tathāgata permit me to leave the household life." The Buddha said to Kauṇḍinya: "Permit this brahmin ascetic to leave the household life and receive the precepts." Kauṇḍinya, having received the Buddha's own instruction, brought him before the assembled saṅgha, performed the formal act enabling him to leave the household life — and, after fifteen days had passed, his every outflow was forever exhausted, and he attained the fruit of arhatship.