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   THE form of this Sutta is remarkable. We have two distinct subjects discussed. First the question of the ability to see heavenly sights and hear heavenly sounds being raised, the Buddha says that it is not for the sake of acquiring such powers that people join the Order under him. And being asked what their object then is, he gradually leads the questioner on to Arahatship, as the aim, along the Eightfold Path. There the Sutta might appropriately have ended. But the Buddha himself then raises a totally different question--whether the soul and the body are the same. And though, for the reason stated below, he gives no answer, he leads the discourse again up to Arahatship along the series of mental states set out in the Sâmañña-phala.

   This second part of our Dialogue might form a separate Sutta, and it is in fact added, as a Sutta by itself, to the present division of the Dialogues. Why then is it also included here? Buddhaghosa's answer is that the young noble Mahâli, who raises the first point, was known to harbour the heresy that there is a soul, and that it has form. (The words the commentator uses are very short, and the context must, I think, be supplied from the passage translated above, § 10 on p. 46.) It was to clear his mind of this notion that the Buddha specially raised the second point.

   However this may be, the Sutta must have been already a double one, must have had its present form, before it received a place in that division of the Buddhist scriptures where it now stands. Each Sutta in that division incorporates the whole of the very ancient tract called the Sîlas. The division is therefore called the Sîla Vagga. And no Sutta not containing the Sîlas can belong to it. Our Sutta only contains the Sîlas in the second part. That part, therefore, must have belonged to it when the dialogues were arranged as they now stand.

   The question raised in that second part is one of a group of questions on which primitive Buddhism expresses no

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opinion. They are called the Ten Avyâkatâni, the Indeterminates, points not determined. Besides being often mentioned in the Dialogues translated in the present work and elsewhere, they form the subject of the Avyâkata Samyutta (No. 44 in vol. iv of the Samyutta Nikâya), and they are as follows{1}:--

   1, 2. Whether the world is eternal or not.
   3, 4. Whether the world is infinite or not.
   5, 6. Whether the soul is the same as the body, or distinct from it{2}.
   7-10. Whether a man who has attained to the truth (a Tathâgata) exists, or not, and in any way, after death.

   There are others mentioned occasionally by themselves; but these form the usual group. Of them, those numbered 1-4 and 7-10 are speculations already condemned in the Brahma-gâla (above, pp. 27 foll., pp. 35 foll., and p. 40 respectively). The remaining two, those numbered 5 and 6, form the subject of the Gâliya, incorporated in our present Sutta.

   The position taken by the primitive Buddhists as to these Indeterminates is so often referred to that it undoubtedly was an important item in the Buddha's actual belief. It is rendered very clear by the old legend put into the Buddha's mouth in the Udâna just quoted. There the various non-Buddhist teachers of the time are represented as expressing strong opinions one way or the other on these questions; and as getting so excited about them that they came to blows. Gotama thereupon tells a story how, in ancient days, a similar riot having taken place, the king had all the blind men in the city brought together, and had an elephant brought in. Each of the blind men touches a different part of the elephant. The king then asks them to explain what an elephant is like. He who had felt the head said it was like a water-pot. He who had felt the ear said it was like a winnowing basket. He who had felt the tusk said it was like a plough-share. He who had felt the trunk said it was like a plough-handle. He who had felt the body said it was like a granary. He who had felt its legs said it was like a pillar. He who had felt its back said it

{1. Potthapâda Sutta (translated below). Samyutta IV, 393; Udâna VI, 4; M. I, 484, &c.

2. Tam gîvam tam sarîram. Childers (sub voce pañho) renders this: 'Is this the life? is this the body?' but that must be wrong. See Sum. I, 319.}

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was like a mortar. He who had felt its tail said it was like a pestle. He who had felt its bristles said it was like a broom. And each one was so sure he was right that they clamoured one against the other, and came to blows, to the amusement of the king. Then comes the moral;--

'In such points Brahmans and recluses stick
Wrangling on them, they violently discuss--
Poor folk! they see but one side of the shield!'

   The inference is obvious. To discuss such questions is Mere speculation, useless, because it is based on insufficient evidence. This is the philosophic position; and it resembles very closely the position taken up, in the West, many centuries afterwards, by Hume and his followers. And, as usual in primitive Buddhism, the ethical corollary is very emphatically insisted upon. It is several times pointed out in the Dialogues{1} of these ten speculations that they--

   'The jungle, the desert, the puppet show, the writhing, the entanglement, of speculation--are accompanied by sorrow, by wrangling, by resentment, by the fever of excitement; they conduce neither to detachment of heart, nor to freedom from lusts, nor to tranquillity, nor to peace, nor to wisdom, nor to the insight of the higher stages of the Path, nor to Arahatship.'

   In other words the speculations, being based on insufficient evidence, are not only useless--they are also, therefore, wrong; that is, from the Buddhist point of view, a disadvantage in the struggle towards the only aim worth striving for--the perfection and emancipation of Arahatship.

   As for the special point of our Sutta--the lesson that no wise man will condescend to discuss the question whether the soul is, or is not, the same as the body--it must be remembered that the negative is the view now known to be so widely, indeed universally prevalent among unthinking people throughout the world that it was almost certainly held also in India. The general opinion about the soul in the pre-Buddhistic Upanishads is somewhat different. There (to judge by the passages set out in my article in the J. R. A. S. for January 1899) it is looked upon as being, at least during life, smaller than the body, though after death, when it flies away from the body through an aperture in the top of the head, it was apparently regarded as a subtle and very impalpable, but still material, double of the body of the deceased.

   It was the refusal to allow any place for this universal

{1. For instance, II. 1, 485.}

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belief in a semi-material soul in his own system that is the most striking, and perhaps the most original feature in Gotama's teaching. No other religion of which we have sufficient records to enable us to form an opinion on the point has been constructed without the 'soul.' Where the others said 'soul,' Gotama said usually 'Action,' which comes to much the same as character.

   In this respect he came very near to our modern use of the word in such expressions as 'a high-souled man' or 'a soul for music.' And it is worth calling attention to the fact that even in Shakspere more than half the times the word is used it is in this secondary, ethical, emotional sense. Even in the old authorised translation of our Bible, in which the word occurs altogether 449 times, it is used 55 times merely in the sense of person{1}, only 85 times in the animistic sense, and 306 times in the sense of emotional or intellectual qualities or disposition{2}.

   This will make Gotama's position, which is really very simple; more clear. He rejected entirety the use of the word in the old animistic sense. He retained it in a personal sense, in the meaning of 'oneself, himself,' &c.{3} And though, of course, be acknowledged the reality of the emotional and intellectual dispositions, he refused absolutely to look upon them as a unity.

   The position is so absolute, so often insisted on, so fundamental to the right understanding of primitive Buddhism, that it is essential there should be no mistake about it. Yet the position is also so original, so fundamentally opposed to what is usually understood as religious belief, both in India and elsewhere, that there is great temptation to attempt to find a loophole through which at least a covert or esoteric belief in the soul and in future life (that is of course of a soul), can be recognised, in some sort of way, as part of so widely accepted a religious system. There is no loophole, and the efforts to find one have always met with unswerving opposition, both in the Pitakas themselves and in extra-canonical works{4}.

{1. 'We were in the ship two hundred and seventy-six souls,' Acts xxvii.

2. There are about a score of ambiguous passages; but a different decision as to them would not change the proportion to any substantial extent.

3. Attano; attaaâ, &c., in an the oblique cases. But for the nominative attâ, the use of which might have been misunderstood, sayam is almost always, if not indeed always, substituted.

4. See the quotations in my 'American Lectures' (London, 1896), pp. 39-42, and the notes above, pp. 81, 87.}

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   Our available records are not at present sufficient to enable us to judge either of the numbers, or of the importance, of those Buddhists who made such attempts. But it is clear from the tone of the first chapter of the Kathâ Vatthu, and from the express statements of the commentary on it, that there were such Buddhists as early as the time of Asoka. They belonged to two out of the eighteen schools of thought which had then arisen. The names of these schools are the Sammitiyâ and the Vaggi-puttakâ{1}. We may yet hope to recover a work which will contain their arguments in their own words. But if the opinion condemned at pp. 14-19 of the Kathâ Vatthu be really theirs, as the commentator declares it is, then it would seem that they held a view practically the same as that opinion of Mahâli, which the Buddha, in our Sutta, goes out of his way to raise in the form of a question, and to put aside as unworthy of discussion.

   The expression sambodhi-parâyano used in this Sutta, § 13, has been hitherto misunderstood.

   The Buddhist ideal is a subjective state to be reached, in this world, by going along an eightfold path, so called because of the eight good qualities or characteristics which make up its eight parts. Progress along this path is divided into four stages in which certain evil dispositions, the ten so-called Bonds, are got rid of. The Sambodhi is the insight, wisdom, intelligence, awakening, which is essential to the three higher stages of this state of Arahatship. And what is connoted by the term can best, perhaps, be understood by bearing in mind its seven constituent parts, the Sambogghangâ--self-possession, investigation into the truth, energy, calm, joy, concentration, and magnanimity.

   In describing the first and lowest of the four stages of the Path, it is always stated (Dîgha I, 156; M. P. S. II, 27; A. II, 238, &c.) of the disciple--not that he has then attained the sambodhi, he has only attained abhisamaya--but that he is sambodhi-parâyano. Childers (sub voce parâyano) explains this as 'having the Four Truths as his support.' But Buddhaghosa (Sum. I, 313) says: 'He has the sambodhi--by which is meant that of the three higher stages--as his furthermost aim; in other words, he will attain to that.'

   Buddhaghosa's explanation is the only one possible in

{1. Kathâ-vatthu-ppakarana-atthakathâ, p. 8 (in the Journal of the Pâli Text Society for 1889).}

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the context, and is confirmed by every other passage in the Pâli Pitakas where the word sambodhi has been traced. It never means the wisdom of a Buddha, but always the insight of the higher stages of the path to Arahatship. But it is necessary to point this out because the distinction is of the first importance for the history of Buddhism; and also because the erroneous rendering of Burnouf has been followed by Childers in the Dictionaty, sub voce sambodhi ('attainment of Buddhaship, Buddhahood'), and has not been corrected by any of the distinguished scholars who have discussed the meaning of Asoka's eighth edict in which the word occurs{1}. The king there says that he 'set out for the sambodhi.' If this means that he had started, in his own opinion, along the line of the Pârâmitâs, towards the attainment, in some future birth, of Buddhahood, then it is most interesting and important as giving us the earliest mention of a doctrine not found in the Pâli Pitakas, and entirely opposed to their view of Buddhism. But the word does not necessarily imply this, nor does the context require it. The doctrine spoken of with contempt, by the Mahâyânist doctors, as the 'Lesser Vehicle' is quite possible here, and more in accordance with all the rest of the Asoka expressions. There would seem to be no sufficient reason why we should not understand Asoka to mean that he had started, in his own opinion, along the Eightfold Path, towards the attainment, doubtless in some future birth, of Arahatship. Whether this be so or not, this is the only meaning of the word so far found in the Pitakas.

   And further, this entering on the Path--the Eightfold Path to the wisdom of the Arahat--is a quite different thing from becoming a Buddhist. There are numerous passages where the very nature of the discourse held not only to laymen (upâsakas), but even to members of the Order (bhikkhus), shows that they were not supposed to have attained as yet to the state of mind described as 'entering upon the Path.' Both the rules of the Order, and the precepts laid down for laymen, are, from the Pitaka point of view, on a different plane altogether, lower than, apart from, that of the Path. Acting up to those rules, carrying out those precepts, can never even result in 'conversion' without the awakening of the new life. It is therefore very doubtful whether the word 'conversion' should be used, in English translations of Buddhist texts, to express a man's

{1. See Senart, 'Inscriptions de Piyadasi,' I, 186, and the other authorities referred to at I, 182 and II, 223.}

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becoming an upâsaka or a bhikkhu. For though the word 'conversion' is used in English in two senses--either that of joining the outward organisation of a new faith, or that of having one's eyes opened to the higher life--the second is the more accurate use of the word, and ought always to be implied in the first.

   The word sambodhi-parâyano occurs in the passage first above quoted (Dîgha I, 156) in the answer to the question, 'What is the aim of the life of the recluse (that is, of the member of the Buddhist Order)?' Opponents and controversialists are fond of asking this question, and it is interesting to notice how it is answered. It is never the attainment of Buddhahood, but always (though the phraseology differs) the attainment of Arahatship. Thus, in the standing phrase used to state that so and so has become an Arahat (M. P. S., p. 60, at the end of Chapter V, and often elsewhere), it is said he has realised the aim of the higher life (brahmakariya-pariyosânam). The Ratha-vinîta and the Kulla Sakuludâyi Dialogues (Nos. 24 and 79 of the Magghima Collection) lead up to the same conclusion. In the Samyutta IV, 51, the aim is said to be the complete understanding of sorrow (dukkhassa pariññâ), and the same reply is expanded further on in the same book (IV, 233) by the explanation that the way of gaining this understanding is to follow out the whole of the Eightfold Path to Arahatship. And this is repeated further on (S. V, 6: compare Mil. 49, 101). In the Anguttara (IV, 7) the object is said to be the destruction of the seven bonds, the destruction of which is precisely Arahatship.

   So sambodhi-patto is used in the Sutta Nipâta, 478, 503, to describe the Arahat, of whom it is said (Itivuttaka, No. 47, p. 42: compare ibid. p. 117 = A. II, 14, and also A. II, 200, 202; S. N. 765) that even here, in this world, he will reach up to the sambodhi, the way to which is said to be the Eightfold Path (M. I, 431 and the Dhamma-kakka-ppavattana Sutta, &c.). And sambodhi-parâyano, with which we started, is only another way of stating what is expressed by amata-parâyano ('having the ambrosia of Arahatship as his aim') in a Sutta, not yet traced, but quoted by Moggallîputta Tissa at Kathâ Vatthu XXII, 7{1}. Of course the above is not intended to imply that the Buddha had not attained the sambodhi. He was an Arahat, and, as such, had all the graces an Arahat should have{2}.

{1. Compare brahma-parâyano at Mil. 234, brahmakariya-parâyano at A. III, 75, and danda-parâyano at M. I, 88.

2. Childers thinks sambodho is merely another form of sambodhi. As the former is only found as yet in one ambiguous phrase (M. I, 17; II, 211; S. IV, 6, 8, 97, 233, &c.), the discussion of its meaning would be premature.}

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   On the same page of this Sutta we have two instances of a curious manner of address not infrequent in the Pitakas, but as yet very imperfectly understood. After being told that Nâgita was the name of the Buddha's personal attendant, we find him suddenly, and without any explanation, addressed as Kassapa. And the young Likkhavi, introduced to us at the beginning of the Sutta by the name 'Hare-lip' (Otthaddha), is addressed both by Nâgita and by the Buddha, neither by his name Otthaddha, nor as Likkhavi, but (and again without any explanation) as Mahâli.

   There are several points in this question of address which cannot yet be solved, but several others are already pretty clear. There are at least eight different modes of speaking of or to a person:--

   1. A nickname arising out of some personal peculiarity. Such are Lambakanna (Hanging-eared), Kûtadanta (with a protruding tooth), Otthaddha (Hare-lipped), Anâthapindika (the beggars' friend), Dârupattika (the man with the wooden bowl). All these are used in a quite friendly, but familiar way. And such names occur so often that it would seem as if nearly everybody was known by a nickname.

   2. A personal name, called in Pâli the mûla-nâma. This, like our own so-called Christian names, is not connected with any personal peculiarity. Some of these names (like similar ones among ourselves) are of very obscure derivation, but others are clear enough as adjectives with a good or lucky meaning. Such are Tissa (after the lucky star of that name), Devadatta (our Theodore), Bhaddiya (nearly the same as our Frederick), Nanda or Ânanda (Joy), Abhaya (Fearless), and many others.

   3. The name of the Gotta or gens, what we should call a surname or family name. These are usually patronymic in form; such as Opamañña, Kanhâyana, Moggallâna, Kassapa, Kandarâyana, Kondañña, Vâsettha, Vessâyana, Bhâradvâga, Vakkhâyana.

   4. The name of the clan, called in Pâli Kula-nâma, such as Sakka, Kâlâma, Buli, Koliya, Likkhavi, Vaggi, Malla, &c.

   5. The name of the mother, with putta (son) added to it; such as Sâri-putta (the more usual name by which the famous disciple Upatissa is called), Vedehi-putta (a name of Agâtasattu king of Magadhâ, Mandîkâ-putta (= Upaka),

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Mantâni-putta (= Punna), Godhi-putta (= Devadatta), Moggali-putta (= Tissa, author of the Kathâ Vatthu). Less frequently the reverse is the case, and a mother or father, whose child has become famous, is simply referred to as the mother, or father, of so and so.

   It is noteworthy that the name of the father is never used in this way, and that the mother's name is never a personal name; but always taken either from the clan, or from the family, to which she belonged. Occasionally the root-form of the name of the clan, or of the trade, has -putto added to it in a similar way (Vanganta-putto, Todeyya-putto{1}, rathakâra-putto). But these cases, which are rare, should rather be classified under the next division.

   6. The name of the position in society, or the occupation, of the person addressed. Such are brâhmana, gahapati, mahârâga, thapati, &c.

   7. A mere general term of courtesy or respect, not containing any special application to the person addressed--such as bhante, âvuso, ayye, &c.

   8. Lastly there is the local name, never used in addressing a person, but prefixed or added to the mûla or gotta name, in narrative sentences, to distinguish between two or more people of the same name. Thus of the eighteen different Kassapas mentioned in the books, three are distinguished, in narrative, as Uruvela- Nadi- and Gaya-Kassapa respectively; of the eight different Kittas one is distinguished as Makkhi-kâsandika; of the seventeen different Bhâradvâgas one is distinguished as Kâpathika. Other instances are probably Hatthako Âlavako, Bâhiyo Dârukîriyo, Pokkharasâdi Subhagavaniko, &c.

   On the rules regulating the choice as to which one of these various sorts of names should, under the circumstances, be used in any particular case, the following observations may be made.

   It is not considered courteous among equals, except in the case of close familiarity, to use either of the two sorts of personal names, that is, either the nickname or the mûla-nâma.

   The Buddha addresses Brahmans as Brâhmana (for instance Sonadanda and Kûtadanta above in the Suttas so called; Gânussoni at M. I, 16, 178; A. I, 56, 159, 166; II, 173; IV, 54; Sañgaya at M. II, 127, 132, though his gotta name is

{1. Todeyya-putto may be rendered either 'son of the man of Tudi' or 'of the sons of the dwellers in Tudi' (a well-known village), or lastly 'of the Todeyya clan,' 'the Todeyyan.'}

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given, Âkâsa-gotta; Sikha at A. II, 232, though his gotta name is given, Moggallâna). But we have had one instance above where he addresses a young Brahman as Ambattha, apparently a clan name (his gotta was Kanhâyana). This solitary exception may be because of his youth.

   On the other hand the Buddha usually addresses ascetics not as paribbâgaka, but by their gotta name. Thus at M. I, 228-250 he calls Sakkako, the Nigantha, by his gotta name Aggi-vessâyana. At M. I, 497-500 he calls Dîgha-nakho (so called, no doubt, because he kept his nails long) by his gotta name, which is again Aggi-vessâyana. And at M. II, 40 he calls Vekhanaso by his gotta name of Kakkâna. This is only in accord with the usage followed by others besides the Buddha. Thus Gânussoni, a Brahman, at M. I, 175, addresses the ascetic Pilotika by his gotta name of Vakkhâyana, and Assagi, a member of the Buddhist order, also calls Sakkako by his gotta name (loc. cit.), and everybody, not a Buddhist, addresses the Buddha by his gotta name, as Gotama. When therefore we find other ascetics addressed by the Buddha by the same name as has been used in the introductory narrative (as, for instance. in the case of Sarabha, A. I, 186; Potaliya, A. II, 100; Potthapâda, D. I, 178 foll.), one may conclude that these also are probably gotta names. This custom of addressing people by their gotta name, no doubt a common one in certain cases, was expressly forbidden to Niganthas (Jacobi, 'Gaina-Sûtras,' II, 305). They called their own Order a gotra (ibid. 321, 327), and apparently thought it worldly to recognise the existence of any other.

   The Buddha addresses members of his own clan, whether members of his Order or not, by their personal names (so of Vappa, A. II, 197; of Mahânâma, M. I, 91, 354; A. I, 220; III, 284). The same holds good of the junior members of the Order, but some at least of the more distinguished among them are always addressed by him either by their gotta, or by their mother's, name (compare Moggallâna, Kakkâna, Kassapa, Gotamî, Sâriputta). Nâgita, for instance, though he is addressed as Kassapa by his nephew, the novice Sîha, is addressed by the Buddha simply as Nâgita.

   Probably every Brahman, and every member of each of the free clans, had a gotta name. We have no certain instance of such a name in any other case. The gotta names used in the clans are the same as those given in Brahman books to Brahmans. It has been concluded that they are Brahman names, and that the clans must have adopted them from the Brahmans, each family or gens taking the gotta name of

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their private chaplain, their purohita priest. But in that case we should surely expect to find some evidence that such priests were usually maintained in such clans. There is no evidence of the kind. All that we can fairly conclude is that the clans claimed, by the very use of these names, to be descended from the same ancestors as the Brahmans, who also bore the names; and that the claim was admitted to be well founded. As shown above, even Brahmans use these gotta names of non-Brahmans. It would seem that the nickname, when once generally known, tended, in speaking of a person, to drive the others out of use. But it is never used in speaking to the person referred to by it.

   From the usage referred to, as followed by the Buddha and others, it would seem that the gotta name was considered as more honourable than either of the personal names, and also than the descriptive general name or title of paribbâgaka (wandering mendicant, recluse). Even the title Brâhmana was dropped for the gotta name in the case of a recluse.

   There are a number of problems, both as to general principles and as to details, that still remain, in this matter of names, unsolved. Is Âlâra, for instance, a nickname or a mûla-nâma; is Kâlâmo a gotta name or a clan name{1}? To what classes of the people was the use of gotta names limited, and what is the historical explanation of this limitation? Were there as many as a dozen clan names in Magadhâ and Kosala combined? What was exactly implied by the clan-name, the Kula-nâma? The word gotta probably had the same meaning, when the Pitakas were composed, as gotra has in the later law books written by the priests. How comes it then that the number of gottas referred to is so very small? Are there much more than a score altogether? What light does the meaning of the mûla and gotta names throw on the religious conceptions and social customs of the people?

   I hope to return to these and similar questicns when I can find time to publish my Pâli Onomasticon, of the names in the Pitakas and in the older inscriptions. What has here been said is probably sufficient to make the use of the names in this Sutta clear{2}.

{1. See my note at 'Buddhist Suttas,' p. 75, and compare contra A. I, 188, 278.

2. Evam-nâmo evam-gotto at M. II, 33; S. III, 25; D. I, 242 is followed at D. I, 13 by evam-vanno; but evidence of any effect of social distinctions on names is at present very slight.}

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