English
is a monk's going and abiding understood, so that as he goes and abides, evil unwholesome states of covetousness and displeasure do not follow him? Just as, monks, a man would enter a thicket full of thorns. Before him are thorns, behind him are thorns, to the north are thorns, to the south are thorns, below are thorns, above are thorns. He would advance mindfully, he would retreat mindfully— ‘May a thorn not pierce me.’ Even so, monks, what is dear and delightful in the world, this is called a thorn in the discipline of the noble ones.” Having understood this, restraint and non-restraint should be understood. “And how, monks, is there non-restraint? Here, monks, a monk, having seen a form with the eye, sees a dear form, he clings to agreeable forms, he is averse to disagreeable forms, and he dwells with unestablished body-mindfulness, with a limited mind. And he does not understand as it really is that liberation of mind, that liberation by wisdom, where those evil, unwholesome states that have arisen in him cease without remainder. ... having tasted a flavor with the tongue... ... having cognized a mental phenomenon with the mind, he clings to agreeable mental phenomena, he is averse to disagreeable mental phenomena, and he dwells with unestablished body-mindfulness, with a limited mind. And he does not understand as it really is that liberation of mind, that liberation by wisdom, where those evil, unwholesome states that have arisen in him cease without remainder. Thus, monks, there is non-restraint. And how, monks, is there restraint? Here, monks, a monk, having seen a form with the eye, does not cling to agreeable forms, is not averse to disagreeable forms, and he dwells with established body-mindfulness, with an immeasurable mind. And he understands as it really is that liberation of mind, that liberation by wisdom, where those evil, unwholesome states that have arisen in him cease without remainder. ... having tasted a flavor with the tongue... ... having cognized a mental phenomenon with the mind, he does not cling to agreeable mental phenomena, is not averse to disagreeable mental phenomena, and he dwells with established body-mindfulness, with an immeasurable mind. And he understands as it really is that liberation of mind, that liberation by wisdom, where those evil, unwholesome states that have arisen in him cease without remainder. Thus, monks, there is restraint. If, monks, while that monk is living thus, dwelling thus, sometimes, on occasion, lapses of mindfulness arise in him, evil, unwholesome thoughts connected with defilements, slow, monks, is the arising of mindfulness. But he quickly abandons them, dispels them, makes an end of them, brings them to non-existence. Just as, monks, a man might drop two or three drops of water onto an iron plate heated all day. Slow, monks, is the dropping of the water drops, but they quickly would come to an end, to exhaustion. Just so, monks, if a monk, living and abiding thus, sometimes, on occasion, forgetfulness arises, evil, unwholesome thoughts connected with defilements, slow, monks, is the arising of mindfulness. But he quickly abandons it, dispels it, makes an end of it, brings it to naught. Thus, monks, the monk's conduct and dwelling are understood; so that as he lives and abides, covetousness and ill-will, evil, unwholesome states, do not flow into him. If, monks, a monk living and abiding thus, kings or royal ministers, or friends or companions, or relatives or kinsmen, were to approach him and invite him with wealth – ‘Come, good man, why do these yellow robes burn you? Why do you wander about bald, with a bowl? Come, return to a lower life, enjoy wealth, and do good deeds!’ That monk, monks, living and abiding thus, that he would renounce the training and return to a lower life – this is not possible. Just as, monks, the river Ganges flows eastward, inclines eastward, slopes eastward. Then a large crowd might come with spades and baskets – ‘We will make this river Ganges flow westward, incline westward, slope westward.’ What do you think, monks, would that large crowd be able to make the river Ganges flow westward, incline westward, slope westward? ‘No, venerable sir.’ ‘For what reason?’ ‘The Ganges, venerable sir, flows eastward, inclines eastward, slopes eastward; it is not easy to make it flow westward, incline westward, slope westward. That large crowd would only be partakers of weariness and vexation.’ Just so, monks, if a monk living and abiding thus, kings or royal ministers, or friends or companions, or relatives or kinsmen, were to approach him and invite him with wealth – ‘Come, Hey man, why do these yellow robes follow you? Why do you wander with a shaven head? Come, return to a lower life, enjoy pleasures, and do good deeds. That a monk, Bhikkhus, acting thus, living thus, would renounce the training and return to a lower life— that is not possible. For what reason? Because, Bhikkhus, that mind which for a long time has inclined to seclusion, leaned to seclusion, gravitated to seclusion— that it would return to a lower life— that is not possible. The Seventh. 8. The Kiṃsuka Tree Simile Sutta 245. Then a certain monk approached another monk. Having approached, he said to that monk: “How far, friend, is a monk’s vision well-purified?” “When, friend, a monk knows as it really is the arising and passing away of the six sense-bases, to that extent, friend, is a monk’s vision well-purified.” Then that monk, dissatisfied with that monk’s answer, approached another monk. Having approached, he said to that monk: “How far, friend, is a monk’s vision well-purified?” “When, friend, a monk knows as it really is the arising and passing away of the five aggregates of clinging, to that extent, friend, is a monk’s vision well-purified.” Then that monk, dissatisfied with that monk’s answer, approached another monk. Having approached, he said to that monk: “How far, friend, is a monk’s vision well-purified?” “When, friend, a monk knows as it really is the arising and passing away of the four great elements, to that extent, friend, is a monk’s vision well-purified.” Then that monk, dissatisfied Not satisfied with that monk's answer, he approached a certain monk. Having approached that monk, he said this to him: "How far, friend, is a monk's vision perfectly purified?" "When, friend, a monk truly understands that whatever is of the nature to arise, all that is of the nature to cease, to that extent, friend, is a monk's vision perfectly purified." Then that monk, not satisfied with that monk's answer, approached the Blessed One. Having approached the Blessed One, he said this to him: "Here, venerable sir, I approached a certain monk. Having approached that monk, I said this to him: 'How far, friend, is a monk's vision perfectly purified?'" "When this was said, venerable sir, that monk said to me: 'When, friend, a monk truly understands the arising and passing away of the six sense bases, to that extent, friend, is a monk's vision perfectly purified.'" "Then I, venerable sir, not satisfied with that monk's answer, approached a certain monk. Having approached that monk, I said this to him: 'How far, friend, is a monk's vision perfectly purified?'" "When this was said, venerable sir, that monk said to me: 'When, friend, a monk truly understands the arising and passing away of the five aggregates of clinging... ...of the four great elements... ...whatever is of the nature to arise, all that is of the nature to cease, to that extent, friend, is a monk's vision perfectly purified.'" "Then I, venerable sir, not satisfied with that monk's answer, approached the Blessed One." "How far, venerable sir, is a monk's vision perfectly purified?" Just as, monk, a man might have never seen a kiṃsuka tree. He would approach another man who had seen a kiṃsuka. Having approached, he would say to that man: ‘What is a kiṃsuka like, good sir?’ He would say: ‘Indeed, good sir, the kiṃsuka is black – just like a burnt tree stump.’ And at that time, monk, the kiṃsuka would be just as that man had seen it. Then, monk, that man, not satisfied with that man’s explanation, would approach another man who had seen a kiṃsuka; having approached, he would say to that man: ‘What is a kiṃsuka like, good sir?’ He would say: ‘Indeed, good sir, the kiṃsuka is red – just like a piece of meat.’ And at that time, monk, the kiṃsuka would be just as that man had seen it. Then, monk, that man, not satisfied with that man’s explanation, would approach another man who had seen a kiṃsuka; having approached, he would say to that man: ‘What is a kiṃsuka like, good sir?’ He would say: ‘Indeed, good sir, the kiṃsuka is covered in pods, with fallen petals – just like a sirīsa tree.’ And at that time, monk, the kiṃsuka would be just as that man had seen it. Then, monk, that man, not satisfied with that man’s explanation, would approach another man who had seen a kiṃsuka; having approached, he would say to that man: ‘What is a kiṃsuka like, good sir?’ He would say: ‘Indeed, good sir, the kiṃsuka has thick leaves and foliage, with dense shade – just like a banyan tree.’ And at that time, monk, Such is the kimśuka tree, just as the sight of that person. Even so, bhikkhu, the more the vision of those noble persons, who are resolved, becomes very pure, the more it is declared by those noble persons. Just as, bhikkhu, a king's frontier city with strong foundations, with strong walls and gates, with six doors. There would be a doorkeeper, wise, experienced, intelligent, a preventer of strangers, an admitter of acquaintances. Coming from the eastern direction, a pair of swift messengers would say to that doorkeeper thus – ‘Where, good sir, is the lord of this city?’ He would say thus – ‘He, sirs, is seated at the central crossroads.’ Then that pair of swift messengers, having conveyed the lord of the city's true message, would return by the way they came.