Subhadra, the Last Disciple

The brahmin ascetic Vātsīputra said, further: "Gautama, I now wish to ask something — may I do so?" The Tathāgata remained silent. He asked a second and a third time in exactly the same way. Vātsīputra said, further: "Gautama, you and I have long been the closest of friends, with no difference at all between us — I wish to ask you something, so why do you remain silent?" At that time, the World-Honored One reflected: "This ascetic's own nature is gentle and refined, purely wholesome and sincere — he has always come to inquire for the sake of true understanding, never to cause trouble. Should he ask something, I ought to answer as he wishes." The Buddha said: "Vātsīputra, excellent, excellent! Ask whatever you doubt, and I shall answer it." Vātsīputra said: "Gautama, does good exist in the world?" "Just so, ascetic." "Does evil exist?" "Just so, ascetic." "Gautama, please explain this for me, so that I may come to know what is good and what is evil." The Buddha said: "Good son, I am able to distinguish and explain this meaning at great length, but shall now explain it for you briefly. Good son, desire is called unwholesome; liberation from desire is called wholesome — and hatred and delusion are exactly the same. Killing is called unwholesome; not killing is called wholesome — and, all the way through, wrong view is exactly the same. Good son, I have now taught you three kinds of wholesome and unwholesome dharmas, and, further, ten kinds of wholesome and unwholesome dharmas. Should any of my own disciples be able to distinguish these three kinds of wholesome and unwholesome dharmas, and, all the way through, these ten kinds, one should know that this person is thereby able to exhaust craving, hatred, delusion, and every leak, severing every state of becoming entirely." The ascetic said: "Gautama, is there, within this very Buddhist teaching, even a single monk able to exhaust craving, hatred, and delusion, every leak, and every state of becoming in this way?" The Buddha said: "Good son, within this very Buddhist teaching, there are not merely one, two, three, or even five hundred, but countless monks able to exhaust craving, hatred, and delusion, every leak, and every state of becoming." "Gautama, setting aside a single monk — is there, within this very Buddhist teaching, even a single nun able to exhaust craving, hatred, and delusion, every leak, and every state of becoming?" The Buddha said: "Good son, within this very Buddhist teaching, there are not merely one, two, three, or even five hundred, but countless nuns able to sever craving, hatred, and delusion, every leak, and every state of becoming." Vātsīputra said: "Gautama, setting aside a single monk and a single nun — is there, within this very Buddhist teaching, even a single layman, upholding the precepts with diligence, of pure holy conduct, who has crossed to the far shore of doubt, severing the very net of doubt?" The Buddha said: "Good son, within my own Buddhist teaching, there are not merely one, two, three, or even five hundred, but countless laymen, upholding the precepts with diligence, of pure holy conduct, who have severed the five lower fetters, attained non-returning, crossed to the far shore of doubt, severing the very net of doubt." Vātsīputra said: "Gautama, setting aside a single monk, a single nun, and a single layman — is there, within this very Buddhist teaching, even a single laywoman, upholding the precepts with diligence, of pure holy conduct, who has crossed to the far shore of doubt, severing the net of doubt?" The Buddha said: "Good son, within my own Buddhist teaching, there are not merely one, two, three, or even five hundred, but countless laywomen, upholding the precepts with diligence, of pure holy conduct, who have severed the five lower fetters, attained non-returning, crossed to the far shore of doubt, severing the net of doubt." Vātsīputra said: "Gautama, setting aside a single monk and a single nun who have exhausted every leak entirely, and a single layman and a single laywoman, upholding the precepts with diligence, of pure holy conduct, who have severed the net of doubt — is there, within this very Buddhist teaching, even a single layman who still receives the pleasures of the five desires, and yet whose mind is already free of the net of doubt?" The Buddha said: "Good son, within this very Buddhist teaching, there are not merely one, two, three, or even five hundred, but countless laymen who have severed the three fetters, attaining stream-entry, and whose craving, hatred, and delusion have grown thin, attaining once-returning. And, exactly as with the laymen, the laywomen are exactly the same." "World-Honored One, I now wish to offer a simile, if I may." The Buddha said: "Excellent! Speak, if you wish to." "World-Honored One, it is exactly like when the nāga kings Nanda and Upananda send down a great rain — the Tathāgata's own rain of Dharma is exactly the same, falling equally upon laymen and laywomen alike. World-Honored One, should a non-Buddhist practitioner wish to come and leave the household life, I am not sure — for how many months does the Tathāgata test him?" The Buddha said: "Good son, all are tested for four months, though this need not always be the case." "World-Honored One, if it need not always be the case, I ask only, in your great compassion, that you permit me to leave the household life." The World-Honored One then said to Kauṇḍinya: "Permit this Vātsīputra to leave the household life and receive the precepts." Kauṇḍinya, having received the Buddha's own instruction, stood him before the assembled saṅgha and performed the formal act for him — and, after fifteen days had passed since leaving the household life, he attained the fruit of stream-entry. Having attained this fruit, he reflected, further: "Should there be any wisdom still attainable through further training, I have now attained it, and am fit to see the Buddha." He then went to where the Buddha was, bowed his head to the ground, and, his reverence complete, withdrew to one side, saying to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, whatever wisdom is attainable through further training, I have now attained it in full — I ask only that you explain and distinguish further for me, so that I may attain the wisdom of one beyond all further training." The Buddha said: "Good son, diligently cultivate these two dharmas: calming meditation, and insight meditation. Good son, should any monk wish to attain the fruit of stream-entry, he too ought diligently to cultivate these very two dharmas; and should he further wish to attain the fruit of once-returning, of non-returning, or of arhatship, he ought likewise to cultivate these very two dharmas. Good son, should any monk wish to attain the four dhyānas, the four immeasurable minds, the six supernormal powers, the eight liberations, the eight bases of mastery, the wisdom free of contention, the summit wisdom, the ultimate wisdom, the four unobstructed knowledges, the vajra samādhi, the exhaustion-wisdom, and the wisdom of non-arising, he ought likewise to cultivate these very two dharmas. Good son, should he wish to attain the ten abidings, the patience of non-arising, the patience of signlessness, the inconceivable patience, the noble practice, the pure holy conduct, the heavenly practice, the bodhisattva practice, the space samādhi, the wisdom-seal samādhi, the samādhi of emptiness, signlessness, and wishlessness, the ground samādhi, the non-retrogressing samādhi, the Śūraṅgama samādhi, the vajra samādhi, supreme, perfect awakening, and the very conduct of a buddha, he ought likewise to cultivate these very two dharmas." Vātsīputra, hearing this, bowed and departed, and, cultivating these two dharmas within the sāla grove, before long attained the fruit of arhatship.

At that time, there were, further, countless monks about to go to where the Buddha was. Vātsīputra, seeing them, asked: "Venerable ones, where are you going?" The monks said: "We are going to where the Buddha is." Vātsīputra said, further: "Venerable ones, should you reach the Buddha, please convey this message on my behalf: the ascetic Vātsīputra, having cultivated these two dharmas, has attained the wisdom of one beyond further training, and now, in repayment of the Buddha's own kindness, shall enter parinirvāṇa." The monks, having reached the Buddha, said to him: "World-Honored One, the monk Vātsīputra has entrusted us with this message: 'World-Honored One, the ascetic Vātsīputra, having cultivated these two dharmas, has attained the wisdom of one beyond further training, and now, in repayment of the Buddha's own kindness, enters nirvāṇa.'" The Buddha said: "Good son, the ascetic Vātsīputra has attained the fruit of arhatship — you may all go and make offerings to his body." The monks, having received the Buddha's own instruction, returned to where his body lay, and arranged great offerings there.

The kāṣāya-clad ascetic said, further: "Gautama, as you yourself teach, across countless ages beings perform wholesome and unwholesome deeds, and, in the future, receive a wholesome or unwholesome body accordingly. This reasoning does not hold. Why is this? As Gautama teaches, it is on account of affliction that this very body is obtained. If the body is obtained on account of affliction, which comes first — the body, or the affliction? If affliction comes first, who, exactly, produced it, and where, exactly, did it dwell beforehand? And if the body comes first, how, then, can it be said to be obtained on account of affliction? Therefore, should it be said that affliction comes first, this cannot be so; should it be said that the body comes first, this too cannot be so; and should it be said that they arise simultaneously, this too cannot be so. First, later, or simultaneous — none of these three possibilities holds — and it is for this very reason that I teach that every dharma possesses its own fixed nature, and does not arise from causes and conditions at all. "Further, Gautama, hardness is earth's own nature; moisture is water's own nature; heat is fire's own nature; movement is wind's own nature; and freedom from all obstruction is space's own nature — these natures of the five great elements do not exist through causes and conditions at all. Should there exist, in the world, even a single dharma whose nature does not arise from causes and conditions, then every dharma's own nature ought likewise not to arise from causes and conditions. And should there be some further dharma that does arise from causes and conditions, for what reason, then, would the nature of these five great elements alone fail to arise from causes and conditions? Gautama, beings' own wholesome and unwholesome bodies, and their attainment of liberation, are all simply their own fixed nature, and do not arise from causes and conditions at all. It is for this very reason that I teach that every dharma exists through its own fixed nature, and is not produced by causes and conditions. "Further, Gautama, dharmas in the world each have their own fixed function. It is exactly like a craftsman, who says that such-and-such wood is fit to be made into a cart, and such-and-such wood is fit to be made into a door or a bed; or exactly like a goldsmith, whose creations, worn upon the forehead, are called a garland, worn beneath the neck are called a necklace, worn upon the arm are called a bracelet, and worn upon the finger are called a ring — and it is precisely because their function is fixed that their own nature is said to be fixed. Gautama, every being is exactly the same: it is because there exist five fixed natures of destiny that there are hell, the realm of hungry ghosts, the animal realm, the human realm, and the heavens — and, this being so, how, then, can it be said that these arise from causes and conditions at all? "Further, Gautama, every being's own nature differs from every other's, and it is for this very reason that this is called each thing's own fixed nature. Gautama, exactly as a tortoise, though born on land, is naturally able to enter the water; as a calf, once born, is naturally able to drink milk; as a fish, seeing bait upon a hook, naturally swallows it; and as a venomous serpent, once born, naturally eats earth — in matters of exactly this kind, who, exactly, has taught them to do so? Exactly as a thorn, once grown, is naturally sharp at its own tip, and a bird's own feathers are naturally distinct in color — beings of the world are exactly the same, some sharp of faculty, some dull, some wealthy, some poor, some beautiful, some ugly, some attaining liberation, some never attaining it — and therefore one should know that every dharma possesses its own fixed nature. "Further, Gautama, as Gautama teaches, craving, hatred, and delusion arise from causes and conditions, these three poisons arising from the cause and condition of the five sense-objects — this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? Beings, even while asleep, departed entirely from the five sense-objects, still give rise to craving, hatred, and delusion. The same holds true within the womb: at the very moment of emerging from the womb, before one is even able to distinguish the five sense-objects, or beauty from ugliness, craving, hatred, and delusion still arise. Even sages and seers, dwelling in a place of utter stillness, apart from the five sense-objects entirely, are still able to give rise to craving, hatred, and delusion. And there are, further, those who, in the very presence of the five sense-objects, give rise to no craving, no hatred, and no delusion at all — and therefore it is not necessarily the case that every dharma arises from causes and conditions; it is, rather, on account of each thing's own fixed nature. "Further, Gautama, I have observed people in the world whose five faculties are incomplete, and yet who possess great wealth and enjoy the greatest mastery and freedom; and I have observed others whose faculties are complete, and yet who are poor and lowly, without any freedom at all, serving others as mere servants. Were there truly a cause and condition governing this, why, then, would things be so? It is for this very reason that every dharma possesses its own fixed nature, and does not depend on causes and conditions at all. Gautama, a small child in the world, likewise not yet able to distinguish the five sense-objects, still, at times, laughs, and, at other times, weeps — laughing when it feels joy, weeping when it feels sorrow — and therefore one should know that every dharma possesses its own fixed nature. Further, Gautama, worldly dharmas are of two kinds: the existent, and the non-existent. The existent is exemplified by space; the non-existent is exemplified by a rabbit's horn. These two dharmas — the first, being existent, does not arise from causes and conditions; the second, being non-existent, likewise does not arise from causes and conditions — and it is for this very reason that every dharma, possessing its own fixed nature, does not arise from causes and conditions at all."

The Buddha said: "Good son, should it be, as you say, that every dharma is like the natures of the five great elements, this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? Good son, in your own system, the five great elements are permanent — for what reason, then, is every other dharma not permanent as well? Should worldly things be impermanent, why, then, is the nature of these five great elements not impermanent as well? And, were the five great elements permanent, worldly things ought likewise to be permanent. Therefore, your claim that the five great elements' own nature exists through its own fixed nature, apart from causes and conditions, and that every other dharma is the same as the five great elements — there is no such thing at all. "Good son, your claim that a fixed function proves a fixed, inherent nature does not hold either. Why is this? Because everything, in every case, receives its own name entirely through causes and conditions. If a name is received through a cause, its meaning, too, is received through that very cause. What is meant by 'receiving a name through a cause'? Exactly as, worn upon the forehead, something is called a garland; worn upon the neck, a necklace; worn upon the arm, a bracelet; and mounted upon a cart, a wheel; or exactly as fire, burning upon grass or wood, is called a grass-fire or a wood-fire. Good son, when a tree first grows, it possesses no inherent nature of being an arrow or a spear — it is only through causes and conditions that a craftsman fashions it into an arrow, and only through causes and conditions that a craftsman fashions it into a spear — and it is for this very reason that one ought never to say that every dharma possesses its own fixed, inherent nature. Good son, your claim that a tortoise, born on land, has a nature that naturally enters the water, and that a calf, once born, has a nature that naturally drinks milk, does not hold either. Why is this? Should entering water be said to have no cause at all, then, having no cause whatsoever, why does the tortoise not enter fire instead? And should a calf's own nature to suckle milk, once born, be said to arise from no cause at all, then, having no cause whatsoever, why does it not suckle a horn instead? Good son, should it be said that every dharma already possesses its own inherent nature, requiring no instruction or practice, and admitting of no further growth at all, this reasoning does not hold either. Why is this? We now observe that instruction does exist, and that growth occurs through the very condition of this instruction — and therefore one should know that there is no such thing as an inherent, fixed nature at all. Good son, were every dharma to possess its own inherent nature, no brahmin ought ever to sacrifice a sheep for the sake of purifying his own body — yet they do perform such sacrifices for the sake of the body, and therefore one should know that there is no such thing as an inherent nature at all. "Good son, worldly speech generally has three tenses: the intention to act, the moment of acting, and the completion of having acted. Were every dharma to possess its own inherent nature, why, then, would the world have these three distinct tenses of speech at all? Precisely because these three tenses exist, one knows that nothing at all possesses an inherent, fixed nature. Good son, should it be said that every dharma possesses its own inherent nature, one should then know that every dharma possesses its own fixed, singular nature — yet, were this so, how, then, does a single thing, sugarcane, come to yield juice, treacle, sugar-candy, wine, and vinegar, each so different from the other? Were there truly a single, fixed nature, for what reason would such different flavors emerge from it at all? Since a single thing yields results as varied as these, one should know that no dharma possesses a single, fixed nature, each with its own inherent quality. Good son, were every dharma to possess a fixed, inherent nature, why, then, do the noble ones drink sugarcane juice, sugar-candy, and dark treacle, yet refrain from drinking wine — and yet, once this same substance has turned to vinegar, drink it once again? Therefore one should know that there is no such thing as a fixed, inherent nature at all — and, lacking any such fixed nature, how could these transformations possibly occur apart from causes and conditions? Good son, you claim that every dharma possesses its own inherent nature — yet how, then, do you still speak in similes at all? Where a simile is used, one should know that the dharma in question possesses no inherent, fixed nature of its own; and where a dharma truly does possess such a nature, one should know that no simile could ever apply to it at all. Every wise person in the world speaks constantly in similes — and, from this alone, one should know that no dharma possesses an inherent, fixed nature, nor any single, unchanging nature at all."

"Good son, your claim about the body and affliction, whichever comes first, does not hold either. Why is this? Were I to claim that the body comes first, you could then object, exactly as you have, that my own claim likewise fails — for what reason, then, do you raise this same objection against your own opponent's silence? Good son, every being's own body and affliction are, in truth, neither prior nor posterior to one another, but arise simultaneously — yet, though they arise simultaneously, it is necessarily on account of affliction that a body is obtained, and never on account of the body that affliction arises. Should your own intention be that this is like a person's two eyes, arising simultaneously, neither depending on the other, the left not depending on the right, nor the right upon the left — and that affliction and the body are exactly the same — this reasoning does not hold. Why is this? Good son, one observes, in the world, a lamp's wick and its light: though these, too, arise simultaneously, the light necessarily depends upon the wick, and the wick never depends upon the light for its own existence. "Good son, should your own intention be that, since the body does not come first, this proves it has no cause at all, this reasoning does not hold either. Why is this? Should the body's not coming first be called 'having no cause' simply because no cause is seen, you ought not, then, to say that every other dharma possesses a cause either. And should you say that, because it is not seen, it therefore cannot be spoken of, then, since we do now see a pot emerging from a cause, why can we not likewise speak of the body's own prior cause in exactly the same way? Good son, whether seen or unseen, every dharma, in every case, arises from causes and conditions, and possesses no inherent nature of its own. Good son, should it be said that every dharma truly possesses its own inherent nature, apart from any cause or condition, for what cause and condition, then, do you still speak of the five great elements at all? These very natures of the five great elements are themselves simply causes and conditions. Good son, though the five great elements' own causes and conditions are indeed as you describe, one ought not, on this account, to say that every other dharma is the same as the five great elements in this respect — exactly as, though people in the world say that everyone who leaves the household life diligently upholds the precepts, one ought not, on this account, to say that an outcaste executioner, too, ought equally to diligently uphold the precepts. "Good son, you claim that the five great elements possess a fixed, inherent hardness — yet I observe that this very nature is constantly changing, and is therefore not fixed at all. Good son, ghee, beeswax, and resin, in your own system, are classified as earth — yet this 'earth' is not fixed at all, sometimes resembling water, sometimes resembling earth, and therefore one cannot say it possesses a fixed, inherent hardness. Good son, tin, lead, pewter, copper, iron, gold, and silver, in your own system, are classified as fire — yet this 'fire' has four distinct natures: when flowing, the nature of water; when moving, the nature of wind; when heated, the nature of fire; and when solid, the nature of earth — how, then, can it be called fixedly 'fire' in nature at all? Good son, water's own nature is called flowing — yet, when water freezes, it is not called earth, but is still called water; for what reason, then, is it not called wind when its own waves move and stir? And if this movement is not called wind, then, when it freezes, it too ought not to be called water — and, if both of these transformations arise from causes and conditions, why, then, do you still say that every dharma does not arise from causes and conditions at all? "Good son, should it be said that the five faculties' own nature is able to see, hear, sense, know, and touch simply because of their own inherent nature, and not because of any cause or condition, this reasoning does not hold either. Why is this? Good son, an inherent, fixed nature's own nature can never change — and, were the eye's own nature simply to see, it ought always to be able to see, with no moment of seeing and no moment of not seeing at all; and therefore one should know that seeing arises from causes and conditions, and never apart from them. Good son, your claim that craving and liberation from craving do not arise on account of the five sense-objects does not hold either. Why is this? Good son, though the arising of craving and liberation from craving are indeed not identical to the mere cause and condition of the five sense-objects, it is on account of unwholesome discursive thought that craving arises, and on account of wholesome discursive thought that liberation is attained. Good son, it is through internal causes and conditions that craving and its liberation arise, and through external causes and conditions that they are, in turn, increased. Therefore, your claim that every dharma possesses its own inherent nature, and that craving and its liberation do not arise on account of the five sense-objects at all, has no basis whatsoever. "Good son, your claim that those with complete faculties yet lacking in wealth have no mastery or freedom, while those with impaired faculties yet possessing great wealth enjoy the greatest mastery and freedom, and that this proves an inherent nature apart from any cause or condition, does not hold either. Why is this? Good son, beings receive their own fruit of retribution from karma, and this fruit of retribution is, in turn, of three kinds: retribution in this very life, retribution in the next life, and retribution in some later life still. Poverty and great wealth, complete faculties and impaired ones, are each the result of distinct karma — and, were there truly an inherent nature such that complete faculties always accompanied wealth, then wealth ought always to accompany complete faculties as well. Yet this is plainly not the case, and therefore one should know with certainty that there is no such thing as an inherent nature at all, but that everything, in every case, arises from causes and conditions. As you yourself have said, a small child in the world, not yet able to distinguish the cause and condition of the five sense-objects, both weeps and laughs — and you take this as proof that everything possesses its own inherent nature. This reasoning does not hold either. Why is this? Were this truly an inherent nature, laughter ought always to be laughter, and weeping ought always to be weeping, with no single instance of laughing or weeping in particular — yet, since there is indeed a single instance of laughing and a single instance of weeping, one should know that everything, without exception, arises from causes and conditions; and therefore one ought never to say that every dharma possesses its own inherent nature, apart from causes and conditions." The ascetic said: "World-Honored One, if every dharma arises from causes and conditions, from what cause and condition, then, does this very body arise?" The Buddha said: "Good son, this very body's own cause and condition is affliction together with karma." The ascetic said: "World-Honored One, if this body arises from affliction and karma, can this very affliction and karma be severed, or not?" The Buddha said: "Just so, just so." The ascetic said, further: "World-Honored One, I ask only that you explain and distinguish this for me, so that, having heard it, I may, without moving from this very spot, sever it entirely." The Buddha said: "Good son, should a person know these two extremes, with no obstruction in the middle between them, this person is thereby able to sever affliction and karma." "World-Honored One, I have now come to know and understand — I have attained the true Dharma-eye." The Buddha said: "In what way do you know this?" "World-Honored One, the two extremes are simply form, and liberation from form; the middle is simply the noble eightfold path itself. And feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are exactly the same." The Buddha said: "Excellent, excellent, good son! You have skillfully come to know these two extremes, severing affliction and karma." "World-Honored One, I ask only that you permit me to leave the household life and receive the precepts." The Buddha said: "Welcome, monk." At that very moment, he severed every affliction of the three realms, and attained the fruit of arhatship.

At that time, there was, further, a brahmin named Hongguang, who said: "Gautama, do you know what I am now thinking?" The Buddha said: "Good son, nirvāṇa is permanent, while the conditioned is impermanent; the crooked is wrong view, while the straight is the noble path." The brahmin said: "Gautama, for what reason do you say this?" "Good son, your own thought was that begging for alms is permanent, while a private invitation to a meal is impermanent; that the crooked is a door's own key, while the straight is the imperial banner-pole. It is for this very reason that I instead say that nirvāṇa is permanent, while the conditioned is impermanent; that the crooked is wrong view, while the straight is the noble eightfold path — not at all what you yourself had originally been thinking." The brahmin said: "Gautama, since you truly do know my own mind — does this noble eightfold path bring every being to complete and final extinction, or not?" At that time, the World-Honored One remained silent and did not answer. The brahmin said: "Gautama, you have already shown that you know my own mind — why, then, do you now remain silent and refuse to answer this very question of mine?" At that time, Kauṇḍinya said: "Great brahmin, whenever anyone asks whether the world is bounded or unbounded, the Tathāgata always remains silent in exactly this way, and does not answer. The noble eightfold path is the straight; nirvāṇa is the permanent — should one cultivate this noble eightfold path, one attains complete extinction; should one fail to cultivate it, one is unable to attain it at all. Great brahmin, it is exactly like a great city, its four walls entirely without any opening at all, possessing only a single gate. The keeper of this gate, being wise and intelligent, is skillfully able to distinguish who may pass — permitting entry where it is fitting, and barring it where it is not — and, though he cannot know exactly how many people enter and leave in total, he knows with certainty that everyone who does enter or leave must do so through this very gate. Good son, the Tathāgata is exactly the same: the city is a simile for nirvāṇa, the gate is a simile for the noble eightfold path, and the gatekeeper is a simile for the Tathāgata himself. Good son, though the Tathāgata does not now answer you whether every being, without exception, attains this complete extinction, whoever does attain it must necessarily cultivate this very noble eightfold path." The brahmin said: "Excellent, excellent, venerable Kauṇḍinya! The Tathāgata is indeed skillfully able to teach this subtle and wondrous Dharma — I now truly wish to know this city, to know this path, and to become a gatekeeper myself." Kauṇḍinya said: "Excellent, excellent! You, brahmin, are indeed able to give rise to this unsurpassed, vast and expansive mind." The Buddha said: "Enough, enough, Kauṇḍinya! This brahmin did not give rise to this very mind only today. Kauṇḍinya, in an age long past, countless eons ago, there was a buddha, the World-Honored One, named Samantaprabhāsa Tathāgata, Arhat, Perfectly and Fully Awakened One, Perfect in Wisdom and Conduct, Well-Gone One, Knower of the World, Unsurpassed One, Tamer of Beings, Teacher of Gods and Humans, Buddha, World-Honored One — and this very person had already, at the feet of this buddha, given rise to the mind of supreme, perfect awakening, and shall, within this very fortunate eon, himself become a buddha. He has, for a long time now, already fully penetrated and understood the true mark of every dharma, and manifests himself among the non-Buddhist schools for the sake of beings, displaying an appearance of knowing nothing at all. It is on account of exactly this that you, Kauṇḍinya, ought not to praise him, saying, 'Excellent, excellent, you are now able to give rise to so great a mind' — as though this were something new."

At that time, the World-Honored One, already knowing this himself, nonetheless said to Kauṇḍinya: "Where is the monk Ānanda now?" Kauṇḍinya said: "World-Honored One, the monk Ānanda is outside the sāla grove, twelve leagues from this very assembly, and is being tormented by sixty-four thousand koṭis of demons. These assembled demons have all transformed their own bodies into the very likeness of the Tathāgata, and, some of them, proclaim that every dharma arises from causes and conditions, while others proclaim that no dharma arises from any cause at all; some proclaim that every cause and condition is itself a permanent dharma, while whatever arises from conditions is entirely impermanent; some proclaim that the five aggregates are real, while others proclaim that the sense-bases and elements are likewise merely false and empty; some proclaim that there are twelve links, while others proclaim that there are, in truth, only four conditions; some proclaim that every dharma is like an illusion, like a magical creation, like a shimmering mirage in the summer heat; some proclaim that the Dharma is attained through hearing, others that it is attained through reflection, and others that it is attained through cultivation; some, further, teach the contemplation of impurity, others the practice of mindfulness of the outbreath and inbreath, others the contemplation of the four foundations of mindfulness, others the threefold contemplation and the sevenfold skillful means, and others the stages of warmth, summit, patience, the supreme worldly dharma, the stage of the trainee, the stage beyond training, and the bodhisattva's first abiding, all the way through to the tenth abiding; some teach emptiness, signlessness, and wishlessness; some, further, teach the twelve divisions of the scriptures — sūtra, geya, vyākaraṇa, gāthā, udāna, nidāna, avadāna, itivṛttaka, jātaka, vaipulya, adbhuta-dharma, and upadeśa; some teach the four foundations of mindfulness, the four right exertions, the four bases of supernormal power, the five faculties, the five powers, the seven factors of awakening, and the noble eightfold path; some teach internal emptiness, external emptiness, internal-and-external emptiness, the emptiness of the conditioned, the emptiness of the unconditioned, the emptiness without beginning, the emptiness of inherent nature, the emptiness of departure, the emptiness of dispersal, the emptiness of self-characteristic, the emptiness of no characteristic, the emptiness of the aggregates, the emptiness of the sense-bases, the emptiness of the elements, the emptiness of the wholesome, the emptiness of the unwholesome, the emptiness of the morally neutral, the emptiness of bodhi, the emptiness of the path, the emptiness of nirvāṇa, the emptiness of formations, the emptiness of attainment, the emptiness of ultimate meaning, the emptiness of emptiness itself, and the great emptiness; some manifest supernormal transformations, their bodies emitting water and fire — water from the upper body and fire from the lower, or water from the lower body and fire from the upper, water from the right side while lying on the left, or water from the left side while lying on the right, thunder rumbling from one side while rain falls from the other; some manifest the world-systems of every buddha; and others, further, manifest the bodhisattva's own birth, walking seven steps, dwelling within the deep palace enjoying the five desires, first leaving the household life and cultivating austerities, going to the bodhi tree and sitting in samādhi, destroying Māra's own army and turning the wheel of the Dharma, and manifesting great supernormal power upon entering nirvāṇa itself. World-Honored One, the monk Ānanda, seeing all of this, reflected: 'Transformations of exactly this kind I have never once seen before — who, exactly, has produced them? Could this possibly be the World-Honored One, Śākyamuni, himself?' Wishing to rise, wishing to speak, he found himself entirely unable to act on his own will at all, and, the monk Ānanda having fallen into Māra's own snare, reflected, further: 'Each of these buddhas teaches something different from the others — whose own words, then, ought I to accept?' World-Honored One, Ānanda is now suffering the greatest torment — though he thinks of the Tathāgata, there is no one able to rescue him, and it is on account of exactly this that he has not come to this very great assembly."

At that time, the bodhisattva mahāsattva Mañjuśrī said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, among the bodhisattvas within this great assembly, some have given rise to the mind of supreme, perfect awakening within a single lifetime, and others across countless lifetimes; they have already made offerings to countless buddhas, their minds firm and resolute, fully cultivating the perfections from giving all the way through to wisdom, accomplishing merit, having long since drawn close to countless buddhas, purely cultivating holy conduct, attaining a mind of awakening that never retrogresses, attaining the patience of non-retrogression, sustaining this non-retrogression, attaining the patience in accordance with the Dharma, and the Śūraṅgama and countless other samādhis. Bodhisattvas of exactly this kind, hearing the Mahāyāna sūtras, never give rise to doubt at all, are skillfully able to distinguish and proclaim that the three jewels share one and the same nature, abiding forever without change, and, hearing of the inconceivable, are never struck with alarm; hearing of every kind of emptiness, their minds are never seized with terror; they have penetrated with perfect clarity the true nature of every dharma, are able to uphold every one of the twelve divisions of the scriptures and expound their meaning in full, and are even able to receive and uphold the twelve divisions of the scriptures of countless buddhas — why, then, should there be any worry that they could not receive and uphold this very great nirvāṇa scripture? For what reason, then, does the World-Honored One ask Kauṇḍinya where Ānanda now is?" At that time, the World-Honored One said to Mañjuśrī: "Listen closely, listen closely, good son! Twenty years after I attained buddhahood, while dwelling in the city of Rājagṛha, I said to the assembled monks: 'Monks, who among this very assembly is able to receive and uphold the Tathāgata's own twelve divisions of the scriptures, and attend to my own needs at my side, without thereby losing his own wholesome benefit?' At that time, Kauṇḍinya, within this very assembly, came forward and said to me: 'I am able to receive and uphold the twelve divisions of the scriptures, and attend to your needs at your side, without losing my own wholesome benefit.' I said: 'Kauṇḍinya, you are already old and frail, and yourself require an attendant — how, then, could you now serve as my own attendant?' Śāriputra then said, further: 'I am able to receive and uphold every one of the Buddha's own words, and attend to his needs, without losing my own wholesome benefit.' I said: 'Śāriputra, you too are already old and frail, and yourself require an attendant — how, then, could you now serve as my own attendant?' And, all the way through, each of the five hundred arhats offered themselves in exactly the same way, and the Buddha accepted none of them. At that time, Maudgalyāyana, within the great assembly, reflected: 'The Tathāgata now accepts none of these five hundred monks as his own attendant — whom, then, does the Buddha's own intention actually favor?' Having reflected in this way, he entered samādhi, and saw that the Tathāgata's own mind rested upon Ānanda, exactly like the rising sun, its light illuminating the western wall. Seeing this, he arose at once from samādhi, and said to Kauṇḍinya: 'Venerable one, I observe that the Tathāgata wishes Ānanda to attend to him at his side.' Kauṇḍinya then, together with the five hundred arhats, went to where Ānanda was, and said: 'Ānanda, you ought now to become the Tathāgata's own attendant — please accept this task.' Ānanda said: 'Venerable ones, I am, in truth, unfit to attend to the Tathāgata. Why is this? The Tathāgata is as venerable as a lion king, as a nāga, as fire itself — how could I, impure and weak as I am, possibly manage such a task?' The monks said: 'Ānanda, accept our own request, and attend to the Tathāgata — you shall thereby attain great benefit.' They asked him a second and a third time in exactly the same way. Ānanda said: 'Venerable ones, I, too, do not seek any great benefit for myself — I am, in truth, unfit to serve at his side.' Maudgalyāyana then said, further: 'Ānanda, there is something you do not yet know.' Ānanda said: 'Venerable one, please tell me of it.' Maudgalyāyana said: 'When the Tathāgata previously sought an attendant among the saṅgha, all five hundred arhats offered themselves, yet the Tathāgata accepted none of them. I then entered samādhi, and saw that the Tathāgata's own intention was to have you serve him — why, then, do you now, on the contrary, refuse?' Ānanda, hearing this, joined his palms, knelt with both knees, and said: 'Venerable ones, should this truly be so, I ask that the Tathāgata, the World-Honored One, grant me three wishes — and I shall then accord with the saṅgha's own request, and attend to him at his side.' Maudgalyāyana said: 'What are these three wishes?' Ānanda said: 'First, should the Tathāgata offer me his own old, worn robes, permit me to decline them. Second, should the Tathāgata receive a private invitation from a lay donor, permit me not to accompany him. And third, permit me to come and go without any fixed time at all. Should the Buddha grant these three things, I shall then accord with the saṅgha's own request, and serve the Tathāgata at his side.' Kauṇḍinya and the five hundred monks then returned to where I was, and said: 'We have already urged the monk Ānanda, and he asks only these three wishes — should the Buddha grant them, he shall accord with the saṅgha's own request.' Mañjuśrī, I then praised Ānanda, saying: 'Excellent, excellent! The monk Ānanda is fully endowed with wisdom, foreseeing in advance every possible slander against him. Why is this? Someone might otherwise say that he serves the Tathāgata merely for the sake of clothing and food — and it is for this very reason that he first asks never to accept my own old robes, nor to accompany me to any private invitation. Kauṇḍinya, the monk Ānanda, fully endowed with wisdom, knows that, were his own coming and going bound to a fixed time, he would be unable to broadly benefit the fourfold assembly — and it is for this very reason that he asks to come and go without any fixed time at all. Kauṇḍinya, I hereby grant Ānanda these three requests, exactly according to his own wish.' Maudgalyāyana then returned to where Ānanda was, and said to him: 'I have already conveyed your own three requests on your behalf, and the Tathāgata, in his great compassion, has granted every one of them.' Ānanda said: 'Venerable one, since the Buddha has granted them, I shall go and serve him at once.'"

"Mañjuśrī, Ānanda has served me for more than twenty years, fully endowed with eight inconceivable qualities. What are these eight? First, in serving me across these more than twenty years, he has never once accepted, on my own behalf, food from a private invitation. Second, in serving me, he has never once accepted my own old, worn robes. Third, in coming to attend me, he has never once come at an improper time. Fourth, in serving me, though he still possesses affliction in full, when accompanying me among kings, kṣatriyas, and noble families of high rank, and seeing women, and even the daughters of gods and nāgas, he has never once given rise to a mind of desire. Fifth, in serving me, upon hearing any single one of the twelve divisions of the scriptures I have taught, he has never once needed to ask about it again — exactly like pouring water from one vessel into another, with nothing lost at all — save for one single exception. Good son, when Prince Virūḍhaka slaughtered the Śākyas and destroyed the city of Kapilavastu, Ānanda, at that time, was overcome with sorrow and grief, weeping aloud, and came to where I was, saying: 'I was born in this very city together with the Tathāgata, of the very same Śākya clan — why, then, does the Tathāgata's own countenance remain as radiant as ever, while I myself am so utterly wasted with grief?' I answered him at that time: 'Ānanda, I cultivate the samādhi of emptiness, and it is for this reason that I am not the same as you.' Three years later, he came back and asked me: 'World-Honored One, I once heard, at Kapilavastu, that the Tathāgata cultivates the samādhi of emptiness — is this true, or false?' I said: 'Ānanda, it is true, just so, exactly as you have heard.' Sixth, in serving me, though he has not yet attained the wisdom to know another's own mind, he always knows which samādhi the Tathāgata has entered. Seventh, in serving me, though he has not yet attained the wisdom of aspiration, he is nonetheless able to know, of any being who comes to where the Tathāgata is, whether this being shall presently attain one of the four fruits of the śramaṇa, or attain it only later, or be reborn as a human, or as a god. Eighth, in serving me, he is able to fully understand every one of the Tathāgata's own secret words. Good son, the monk Ānanda, fully endowed with these eight inconceivable qualities, is the very reason I call the monk Ānanda the treasury of vast learning. Good son, the monk Ānanda is, further, fully endowed with eight dharmas, enabling him to fully uphold the twelve divisions of the scriptures. What are these eight? First, firm and unshakable faith; second, a sincere and upright mind; third, a body free of illness and suffering; fourth, constant and diligent effort; fifth, complete mindfulness; sixth, a mind free of arrogance; seventh, the accomplishment of concentration and wisdom; and eighth, the wisdom that arises fully from hearing. Mañjuśrī, the buddha Vipaśyin's own attendant disciple, named Aśoka, was likewise fully endowed with these very eight dharmas. The Tathāgata Śikhin's own attendant disciple was named Kṣemaṃkara; the buddha Viśvabhū's own attendant disciple was named Upaśānta; the buddha Krakucchanda's own attendant disciple was named Bhadrika; the buddha Kanakamuni's own attendant disciple was named Sujāta; and the buddha Kāśyapa's own attendant disciple was named Sarvamitra — every one of them, likewise, fully endowed with these same eight dharmas. My own Ānanda, now, is exactly the same, fully endowed with these eight dharmas — and it is for this very reason that I call the monk Ānanda the treasury of vast learning. Good son, as you yourself have said, though this great assembly contains countless, boundless bodhisattvas, every one of these bodhisattvas carries a heavy responsibility of his own, namely great loving-kindness and great compassion — and it is on account of exactly this compassionate responsibility that each of them is occupied, taming his own following and adorning his own person. It is for this very reason that, after my own parinirvāṇa, they shall be unable to broadly proclaim the twelve divisions of the scriptures — and, should any bodhisattva attempt to teach them at such a time, people would not believe or accept his words. Mañjuśrī, the monk Ānanda is my own younger cousin, having attended me for more than twenty years, and has fully received and upheld every teaching he has heard, exactly like water poured from one vessel into another without any loss at all — and it is for this very reason that I now ask after him: where, exactly, is Ānanda? For I wish him to receive and uphold this very nirvāṇa sūtra. Good son, whatever the monk Ānanda has not yet heard before my own parinirvāṇa, the bodhisattva Hongguang shall be able to proclaim and spread abroad; and whatever Ānanda has already heard, he himself shall be able to proclaim and spread abroad in turn. "Mañjuśrī, the monk Ānanda is now in another place, twelve leagues outside this very assembly, being tormented by sixty-four thousand koṭis of demons — you may go there, and, raising your voice loudly, proclaim: 'Every demon, listen closely, listen closely. The Tathāgata now proclaims the great dhāraṇī — every god, nāga, gandharva, asura, garuḍa, kiṃnara, mahoraga, human and non-human being, every mountain spirit, tree spirit, river spirit, ocean spirit, and household spirit, hearing this very name upheld, shall be none other than reverent, and shall receive and uphold it. This very dhāraṇī has been proclaimed together by every buddha, the World-Honored Ones, as numerous as the sands of ten Ganges rivers, and is able to transform a woman's own body, and to know one's own past lives of itself. Should one undertake these five practices — first, pure holy conduct; second, abstaining from meat; third, abstaining from wine; fourth, abstaining from pungent foods; and fifth, delighting in stillness — and, having undertaken these five practices, receive this dhāraṇī with utmost sincerity and faith, reciting, chanting, and copying it out, one should know that this very person shall thereby transcend seventy-seven koṭis of vile and evil rebirths.'" The World-Honored One then proclaimed it: "Amale, vimale, nirmale, maṅgale, hemamālye jagadbhaje, samantabhadre, sabalathā sandhāni, balamathā sandhāni, manasyāstuve, virajī amalāvatī, valambhe, valambamāsale, puraṇe puraṇamanurate." At that time, Mañjuśrī, having received this dhāraṇī from the Buddha, went to where Ānanda was, and, standing amidst the assembled demons, said: "Every follower of Māra, listen closely — I now speak the very spell I have received from the Buddha." The demon king, hearing this dhāraṇī, gave rise, every one of them, to the mind of supreme, perfect awakening, relinquishing their own demonic work at once, and released Ānanda. Mañjuśrī and Ānanda then came together to where the Buddha was. Ānanda, seeing the Buddha, paid reverent homage with utmost sincerity, and withdrew to one side.

The Buddha said to Ānanda: "Outside this very sāla grove, there is a brahmin ascetic named Subhadra, extremely advanced in years, already one hundred and twenty years old. Though he has attained the five supernormal powers, he has not yet relinquished his own arrogance; having attained the concentration of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, he takes this to be omniscience itself, and gives rise to the perception that this very state is nirvāṇa. You may go to him, and say: 'The Tathāgata's own appearance in the world is exceedingly rare, like the udumbara flower — this very midnight, he shall enter parinirvāṇa. Should you have anything you wish to do, do it now, in good time, lest you give rise to regret afterward.' Ānanda, he shall certainly believe and accept what you tell him. Why is this? Because you yourself, across five hundred past lifetimes, were once Subhadra's own son, and this very man's own affectionate attachment toward you has not yet been fully exhausted — and it is on account of exactly this that he shall believe and accept your own words." Ānanda, having received the Buddha's own instruction, went to where Subhadra was, and said: "Sir, you should know that the Tathāgata's own appearance in the world is like the udumbara flower — this very midnight, he shall enter parinirvāṇa. Should you have anything you wish to do, do it now, in good time, lest you give rise to regret afterward." Subhadra said: "Excellent, Ānanda! I shall go at once to where the Tathāgata is." Ānanda then returned with Subhadra to where the Buddha was. Subhadra, upon arriving, offered his own greetings, and said: "Gautama, I now wish to ask something — answer it as I intend." The Buddha said: "Subhadra, now is exactly the right time — ask whatever you wish, and I shall, through skillful means, answer according to your own intent." "Gautama, there are certain śramaṇas and brahmins who say: 'Every being's own receiving of suffering and pleasure as retribution follows entirely from the very cause and condition of his own past karma — and therefore, should one uphold the precepts with diligence, and undergo suffering in body and mind, one is thereby able to destroy this very past karma; and, once this past karma is exhausted, every suffering is thereby extinguished; and, every suffering being extinguished, one thereby attains nirvāṇa.' What is the meaning of this?" The Buddha said: "Good son, should any śramaṇa or brahmin make a claim of this kind, I, out of compassion, would always go to visit such a person, and, having arrived, would ask him: 'Sir, do you truly make this very claim?' Should he answer: 'I do indeed say this' — I would ask: 'Why is this?' — and he might answer: 'Gautama, I observe beings who habitually practice every evil, and yet possess great wealth and enjoy freedom of every kind; and I observe others who cultivate goodness, and yet remain poor and lacking, without any freedom at all. I observe some who exert every effort seeking something, yet never obtain it; and others who, without seeking it at all, naturally obtain it. I observe some who, out of loving-kindness, refrain from killing, and yet die prematurely; and others who delight in killing, and yet live out their full years. I observe some who purely cultivate holy conduct, diligently upholding the precepts, and yet some attain liberation while others do not. It is for this very reason that I say every being's own receiving of suffering and pleasure as retribution follows entirely from the very cause and condition of his own past karma.' Subhadra, I would then ask him, further: 'Sir, do you actually perceive this past karma directly? And, if such karma exists, how much of it is there? How much of it is your present austerity actually able to destroy? Are you able to know whether this karma is already exhausted, or not yet exhausted? And, once this karma is exhausted, is everything thereby exhausted?' Should he answer: 'I, in truth, do not know' — I would then offer him this simile: 'It is exactly like a person struck by a poisoned arrow, whose own family summons a physician to remove this arrow — and, once the arrow is removed, his body attains ease and comfort. Ten years later, this very person still remembers, with perfect clarity, that this physician removed the poisoned arrow for him, applied medicine to the wound, and thereby allowed him to recover, receiving ease and pleasure once more. Yet you, sir, not knowing your own past karma at all, how, then, can you possibly know that your present austerity is truly able to destroy this past karma?' Should he then say, further: 'Gautama, you yourself, too, possess past karma — why, then, do you alone hold me to account for my own past karma? Does not Gautama's own scripture likewise teach that, should one see a person noble and free, one should know that this person practiced generosity in a past life — is this not itself an instance of knowing one's own past karma?' I would then answer, further: 'Sir, knowledge of this kind is called inferential knowledge, not called true, direct knowledge. Within my own Buddhist teaching, there is knowing the fruit from the cause, and knowing the cause from the fruit. Within my own Buddhist teaching, there is past karma, and there is present karma. Your own system is not like this — it recognizes only past karma, and no present karma at all. Your own system does not sever karma through any skillful means; my own system is not like this, severing karma precisely through skillful means. In your own system, once karma is exhausted, suffering is thereby exhausted; in my own system, this is not so — once affliction is exhausted, karma and suffering are thereby exhausted together — and it is for this very reason that I now hold you to account regarding your own past karma.' Should this person then say: 'Gautama, I, in truth, do not know this myself — I have received it from my own teacher, who taught it this way, and I myself bear no fault in the matter' — I would ask: 'Sir, who, exactly, is your own teacher?' Should he answer: 'It is Pūraṇa Kāśyapa' — I would then say, further: 'Why, then, did you not, in the past, inquire of him one point at a time — does the great teacher truly know past karma directly, or not? Should your own teacher say he does not know it, how, then, could you still accept his own teaching at all? And should he say that he does know it, you ought, further, to have asked him: does a lower degree of suffering as cause and condition yield a middling or an upper degree of suffering as its result? Does a middling degree of suffering as cause yield a lower or an upper degree as its result? Does an upper degree of suffering as cause yield a middling or a lower degree as its result? And, should he answer that it does not, you ought, further, to have asked him: why, then, does the teacher claim that the fruit of suffering and pleasure comes solely from past karma, and not at all from the present? You ought, further, to have asked him: does this very present suffering also exist in the past? If it exists in the past, then this past karma is already, in every case, exhausted — and, if it is already entirely exhausted, how, then, could one still receive this very present body at all? And if it does not exist in the past, but exists only in the present, how, then, can it still be said that beings' own suffering and pleasure come entirely from past karma? Sir, should you know that present austerity is able to destroy past karma, by what, then, is this present austerity itself, in turn, destroyed? Should it not be destroyed at all, suffering would then be permanent — and, were suffering permanent, how could it be said that liberation from suffering is even possible? And should there be some further practice that destroys this very austerity, then, the past karma already exhausted, how could there still be any suffering left at all? Sir, is this very austerity able to cause karma that yields pleasure to instead yield the fruit of suffering? Is it able to cause karma that yields suffering to instead yield the fruit of pleasure? Is it able to cause karma yielding neither suffering nor pleasure to yield no fruit at all? Is it able to cause a retribution due in this very life to become one due in a future life instead? Is it able to cause a retribution due in a future life to become one due in this very life instead? Is it able to cause these two kinds of retribution to become no retribution at all? Is it able to cause a fixed retribution to become no retribution at all? And is it able to cause what carries no retribution at all to become a fixed retribution instead?' Should he then answer, further: 'Gautama, it is not able to do any of this' — I would then say, further: 'Sir, if it is unable to do any of this, for what reason, then, do you undergo this very austerity at all? Sir, you should know that there truly exists both past karma and present causes and conditions, and it is for this very reason that I say affliction gives rise to karma, and karma, in turn, yields retribution. Sir, you should know that every being possesses both past karma and present causes — for, though a being's own past karma determines his lifespan, he still necessarily depends on the present cause and condition of food and drink. Sir, should it be said that beings' own receiving of suffering and pleasure comes entirely and solely from the cause and condition of their own past karma, this is simply not so. Why is this? Sir, it is exactly like a person who removes an enemy on the king's own behalf, and, on account of this very deed, receives great wealth, and, through this very wealth, enjoys pleasure in the present — a person of this kind creates, in the present, the cause of pleasure, and receives, in the present, the fruit of pleasure. Or it is exactly like a person who kills the king's own beloved son, and, on account of this very deed, loses his own body and life — a person of this kind creates, in the present, the cause of suffering, and receives, in the present, the fruit of suffering. Sir, every being, in the present, receives suffering and pleasure on account of the four great elements, the season, the land, and other people — and it is for this very reason that I say it is not necessarily the case that every being's own suffering and pleasure come entirely from past karma. Sir, should liberation truly be attained solely through the power of severing karma, no noble one at all could ever attain liberation. Why is this? Because every being's own past karma has neither beginning nor end — and it is for this very reason that I teach that, in cultivating the noble path, this very path is able to block karma that has neither beginning nor end. Sir, should undergoing austerity alone be sufficient to attain the path, every animal, too, ought to attain the path. It is for this reason that one ought first to tame the mind, not merely the body — and it is on account of exactly this that I have taught, in my own sūtras: "Cut down this very forest — do not cut down a single tree." Why is this? Because fear arises from the forest, not from any single tree. Wishing to tame the body, one ought first to tame the mind — the mind is likened to the forest, and the body to a single tree within it.'"

Subhadra said: "World-Honored One, I have already tamed my own mind." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way have you already tamed your mind?" Subhadra said: "World-Honored One, I first reflected that desire is impermanent, without bliss, and without purity, and contemplated that form, by contrast, is itself permanence, bliss, and purity. Having contemplated in this way, the fetters of the desire realm were severed, and I attained the realm of form — and this is what I mean by having first tamed my mind. Next, I further contemplated that form itself is impermanent, like a boil, like a wound, like poison, like an arrow, and saw that the formless is permanent, pure, and still. Having contemplated in this way, the fetters of the form realm were exhausted, and I attained the formless realm — and this, too, is what I mean by having first tamed my mind. Next, I further contemplated that perception itself is impermanent, a boil, a wound, poison, an arrow. Having contemplated in this way, I attained the sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception. This very sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception is itself omniscience, stillness, and purity, free of any falling away at all, permanent and unchanging forever — and it is for this very reason that I say I have been able to tame my own mind." The Buddha said: "Good son, in what way do you claim to have tamed your mind? This very concentration of neither-perception-nor-non-perception you have now attained is still called perception. Nirvāṇa is without perception — how, then, can you say that you have attained nirvāṇa? Good son, you have already been able to denounce the coarser forms of perception — why, then, do you now cling with affection to this subtler form of perception, unable to recognize it for what it is, and denounce it in turn? This very sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception is, for this very reason, still called perception, still a boil, a wound, poison, an arrow. Good son, your own teacher Udraka Rāmaputra, sharp and intelligent of faculty though he was, was still unable to sever this very sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, and received an evil body upon his own death — how much less, then, could anyone lesser than him?" "World-Honored One, how, then, can one sever every state of becoming entirely?" The Buddha said: "Good son, should a person contemplate the true mark, this person is thereby able to sever every state of becoming entirely." Subhadra said: "World-Honored One, what, exactly, is meant by the true mark?" "Good son, the mark of markless-ness itself is what is called the true mark." "World-Honored One, what, exactly, is meant by the mark of markless-ness?" "Good son, every dharma is without the mark of self, without the mark of other, and without the mark of both self and other together; without the mark of no cause, without the mark of an act, without the mark of a recipient, without the mark of an agent, without the mark of one who receives; without the mark of dharma and non-dharma; without the mark of male and female, without the mark of a person, without the mark of an atom, without the mark of time; without the mark of being for-oneself, without the mark of being for-another, without the mark of being for both; without the mark of existence, without the mark of non-existence; without the mark of arising, without the mark of one who arises; without the mark of cause, without the mark of a cause of the cause; without the mark of fruit, without the mark of a fruit of the fruit; without the mark of day and night, without the mark of light and darkness; without the mark of seeing, without the mark of one who sees; without the mark of hearing, without the mark of one who hears; without the mark of awareness, without the mark of one who is aware; without the mark of awakening, without the mark of one who attains awakening; without the mark of karma, without the mark of a lord of karma; without the mark of affliction, without the mark of a lord of affliction. Good son, marks of exactly this kind, wherever they cease, that very place is called the true mark. Good son, every dharma, without exception, is entirely false and unreal — and it is precisely wherever this falseness ceases that this is called the real, and this is called the true mark, the Dharma-realm, the ultimate wisdom, the truth of ultimate meaning, and the emptiness of ultimate meaning. Good son, this very mark, this Dharma-realm, this ultimate wisdom, this truth of ultimate meaning, and this emptiness of ultimate meaning — contemplated with lesser wisdom, one attains the awakening of the śrāvaka; contemplated with middling wisdom, one attains the awakening of the pratyekabuddha; and contemplated with the highest wisdom, one attains unsurpassed awakening itself."

When this teaching was proclaimed, ten thousand bodhisattvas attained the true mark within a single further lifetime; fifteen thousand bodhisattvas attained the Dharma-realm within two further lifetimes; twenty-five thousand bodhisattvas attained the ultimate wisdom; thirty-five thousand bodhisattvas awakened to the truth of ultimate meaning — this very truth of ultimate meaning being also called the emptiness of ultimate meaning, and also called the Śūraṅgama samādhi. Forty-five thousand bodhisattvas attained the space samādhi — this very space samādhi being also called the vast and expansive samādhi, and also called the wisdom-seal samādhi. Fifty-five thousand bodhisattvas attained the patience of non-retrogression — this very patience of non-retrogression being also called the patience in accordance with the Dharma, and also called being in accordance with the Dharma-realm. Sixty-five thousand bodhisattvas attained the dhāraṇī — this very dhāraṇī being also called the great mindful heart, and also called the unobstructed wisdom. Seventy-five thousand bodhisattvas attained the Lion's Roar samādhi — this very Lion's Roar samādhi being also called the vajra samādhi, and also called the samādhi of the five wisdom-seals. Eighty-five thousand bodhisattvas attained the samādhi of equality — this very samādhi of equality being also called great loving-kindness and great compassion. Countless beings, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, gave rise to the mind of supreme, perfect awakening; countless beings, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, gave rise to the mind of the pratyekabuddha; and countless beings, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, gave rise to the mind of the śrāvaka. Two hundred billion human women and goddesses manifested the transformation of their own female bodies into male bodies. And Subhadra himself attained the fruit of arhatship.