The Discourse on the Simile of the Quail

Thus have I heard: On one occasion, the Blessed One was living among the Anguttarā people at a town of the Anguttarā people named Āpaṇa.

Then, in the morning, the Blessed One dressed, took his bowl and outer robe, and entered Āpaṇa for alms.

Having walked for alms in Āpaṇa and returned after his meal, he went to a certain forest grove for the day's abiding.

Having entered that forest grove, he sat down at the root of a certain tree for the day's abiding.

Then, in the morning, the Venerable Udāyī dressed, took his bowl and outer robe, and entered Āpaṇa for alms.

Having walked for alms in Āpaṇa and returned after his meal, he went to that forest grove for the day's abiding.

Having entered that forest grove, he sat down at the root of a certain tree for the day's abiding.

Then, while the Venerable Udāyī was alone in seclusion, a reflection arose in his mind: Indeed, the Blessed One has removed many painful states for us, indeed, the Blessed One has brought many pleasant states for us; indeed, the Blessed One has removed many unwholesome states for us, indeed, the Blessed One has brought many wholesome states for us.

Then, in the evening, the Venerable Udāyī emerged from seclusion and went to the Blessed One; having approached, he paid homage to the Blessed One and sat down to one side.

While sitting to one side, the Venerable Udāyī said to the Blessed One: Here, venerable sir, while I was alone in seclusion, a reflection arose in my mind: Indeed, the Blessed One has removed many painful states for us, indeed, the Blessed One has brought many pleasant states for us; indeed, the Blessed One has removed many unwholesome states for us, indeed, the Blessed One has brought many wholesome states for us.

For, venerable sir, formerly we ate in the evening and in the morning and during the day at improper times.

There was a time, venerable sir, when the Blessed One addressed the disciples: Come abandon that eating during the day at improper times.

At that time, venerable sir, I had a change of heart, I had sadness: Even when our faithful householders give us excellent food and drink during the day at improper times, the Blessed One has said to abandon it, the Fortunate One has said to relinquish it.

But, venerable sir, out of love, respect, shame, and fear of wrongdoing towards the Blessed One, we abandoned that eating during the day at improper times.

Then, venerable sir, we ate in the evening and in the morning.

There was a time, venerable sir, when the Blessed One addressed the disciples: Come abandon that eating at night at improper times.

At that time, venerable sir, I had a change of heart, I had sadness: Even when our faithful householders give us excellent food and drink during these two meals, the Blessed One has said to abandon it, the Fortunate One has said to relinquish it.

Once, venerable sir, a certain man, having obtained soup during the day, said:

Come, let us put this aside, we will all eat together in the evening.

Whatever gatherings there are, venerable sir, all are at night, few during the day.

But, venerable sir, out of love, respect, shame, and fear of wrongdoing towards the Blessed One, we abandoned that eating at night at improper times.

Once, venerable sir walking for alms in the dark of night, entered a pit, fell into a ditch, climbed over a thorny fence, climbed onto a cow, met with young men, both those who had done and those who had not done their work, and women invited them improperly.

Once, venerable sir, I was walking for alms in the dark of night.

A certain woman, washing a dish in the light of a lamp, saw me and screamed in fear:

A ghost, indeed, has appeared to me!

When she said this, I said to that woman:

Sister, I am not a ghost;

I am a disciple standing for alms.

Disciple, you are a killer of your mother, a killer of your father.

It would be better for you to have your belly cut open with a sharp knife than to walk for alms in the dark of night because of your belly.

Reflecting on this, venerable sir, it occurs to me:

Indeed, the Blessed One has removed many painful states for us, indeed, the Blessed One has brought many pleasant states for us;

indeed, the Blessed One has removed many unwholesome states for us, indeed, the Blessed One has brought many wholesome states for us.

Just so, Udāyī, here some foolish men, when I say abandon this, say:

What is this trifling thing that this ascetic is so strict about?

They neither abandon it nor place confidence in me.

But for those disciples who wish to train, Udāyī, it becomes a strong bond, a firm bond, a stable bond, an uncorrupted bond. Just as, Udāyi, a small quail bird tied with a rotten creeper remains there and meets with death, bondage, or demise.

If someone were to say, Udāyi:

The bond by which the small quail bird tied with a rotten creeper remains there and meets with death, bondage, or demise, is weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial,

Would they be speaking correctly, Udāyi?

No, sir.

The bond by which the small quail bird tied with a rotten creeper remains there and meets with death, bondage, or demise, is strong, firm, stable, and not rotten.

Similarly, Udāyi, some foolish people, when told by me abandon this, say: Why does this disciple emphasize this small, trivial matter?

They neither abandon it nor place trust in me.

For those disciples who wish to train, it becomes a strong, firm, stable, and not rotten bond.

But here, Udāyi, some noble sons, when told by me abandon this, say:

Why does the Blessed One emphasize abandoning this small, trivial matter?

They abandon it and do not place distrust in me.

For those disciples who wish to train, having abandoned it, they live unconcerned, with relaxed minds, dependent on others, with the mind of a wild deer.

For them, Udāyi, it becomes a weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial bond:

Just as, Udāyi, a royal elephant with tusks like plows, strong, well-bred, trained for battle, tied with strong ropes, by merely moving its body slightly, breaks and shatters those bonds and goes wherever it wants.

If someone were to say, Udāyi:

The bonds by which the royal elephant with tusks like plows, strong, well-bred, trained for battle, tied with strong ropes, by merely moving its body slightly, breaks and shatters those bonds and goes wherever it wants, are strong, firm, stable, and not rotten

Would they be speaking correctly, Udāyi?

No, sir.

The bonds by which the royal elephant with tusks like plows, strong, well-bred, trained for battle, tied with strong ropes, by merely moving its body slightly, breaks and shatters those bonds and goes wherever it wants, are weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial.

Similarly, Udāyi, some noble sons, when told by me abandon this, say:

Why does the Blessed One emphasize abandoning this small, trivial matter?

They abandon it and do not place distrust in me.

For those disciples who wish to train, having abandoned it, they live unconcerned, with relaxed minds, dependent on others, with the mind of a wild deer.

For them, Udāyi, it becomes a weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial bond.

Just as, Udāyi, a poor, destitute man;

He has a small, dilapidated house, leaking and falling apart, not worth much, a small, dilapidated bed, not worth much, a small pot holding a little grain, not worth much, a wife not worth much.

He sees a disciple in the park, with clean hands and feet, having eaten delicious food, sitting in the cool shade, engaged in higher thought.

He thinks: How pleasant is the life of a disciple, how healthy is the life of a disciple.

If only I could shave my head and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness.

But he cannot abandon the small, dilapidated house, leaking and falling apart, not worth much, the small, dilapidated bed, not worth much, the small pot holding a little grain, not worth much, the wife not worth much, shave his head and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness.

If someone were to say, Udāyi:

The bonds by which the man is tied, preventing him from abandoning the small, dilapidated house, leaking and falling apart, not worth much, the small, dilapidated bed, not worth much, the small pot holding a little grain, not worth much, the wife not worth much, shave his head and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness, are strong, firm, stable, and not rotten.

Would they be speaking correctly, Udāyi?

No, sir.

The bonds by which the man is tied, preventing him from abandoning the small, dilapidated house, leaking and falling apart, not worth much, the small, dilapidated bed, not worth much, the small pot holding a little grain, not worth much, the wife not worth much, shave his head and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness, are weak, feeble, rotten, and insubstantial. to go forth from the household life into homelessness;

for that is a weak bond, a feeble bond, a putrid bond, an insubstantial bond;

Would he, Udayi, be speaking rightly in saying so?

No, venerable sir. For, venerable sir, a man bound by such bonds cannot, after abandoning a single house, a dilapidated, decrepit, crow-infested house, and nothing more, go forth from the household life into homelessness;

for that is a strong bond, a firm bond, a stable bond, a non-putrid bond, a thick, solid bond.

Just so, Udayi, some foolish men, when I say to them Abandon this, say thus:

What is this trifling, insignificant thing that this ascetic is so strict about?

They neither abandon it nor place confidence in me.

But for those disciples who desire training, that, Udayi, is a strong bond, a firm bond, a stable bond, a non-putrid bond, a thick, solid bond.

Just as, Udayi, a householder or householder's son, rich, with great wealth and property, with heaps of gold, heaps of grain, heaps of fields, heaps of goods, heaps of wives, heaps of male and female slaves; if he were to see a disciple in a park, with hands and feet washed, having eaten a delightful meal, sitting in the cool shade, engaged in higher thought, he might think: Indeed, the monastic life is pleasant, indeed, the monastic life is healthy.

If only I could shave off my hair and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness.

He could abandon heaps of gold, heaps of grain, heaps of fields, heaps of goods, heaps of wives, heaps of male and female slaves, shave off his hair and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness.

If someone were to say, Udayi, that a householder or householder's son, bound by such bonds, could abandon heaps of gold, heaps of grain, heaps of fields, heaps of goods, heaps of wives, heaps of male and female slaves, shave off his hair and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness, that would be a strong bond, a firm bond, a stable bond, a non-putrid bond, a thick, solid bond;

Would he, Udayi, be speaking rightly in saying so?

No, venerable sir.

For, venerable sir, a householder or householder's son bound by such bonds could abandon heaps of gold, heaps of grain, heaps of fields, heaps of goods, heaps of wives, heaps of male and female slaves, shave off his hair and beard, put on the ochre robes, and go forth from the household life into homelessness;

for that is a weak bond, a feeble bond, a putrid bond, an insubstantial bond.

Just so, Udayi, some sons of good families, when I say to them Abandon this, say thus: What is this trifling, insignificant thing that the Blessed One has said should be abandoned, that the Well-Gone One has said should be relinquished?

They abandon it and do not place confidence in me.

But those disciples who desire training, having abandoned it, live unconcerned, with relaxed minds, dependent on others, with the mind of a wild deer.

For them, Udayi, that is a weak bond, a feeble bond, a putrid bond, an insubstantial bond.

There are these four types of persons, Udayi, existing in the world.

What four?

Here, Udayi, a certain person is engaged in abandoning acquisitions, in relinquishing acquisitions.

For him, engaged in abandoning acquisitions, in relinquishing acquisitions, thoughts connected with acquisitions arise.

He endures them, does not abandon them, does not dispel them, does not make them disappear, does not bring them to non-existence.

This person, Udayi, I call bound, not unbound.

Why is that?

Because, Udayi, I see a difference in faculties in this person.

Here, Udayi, a certain person is engaged in abandoning acquisitions, in relinquishing acquisitions.

For him, engaged in abandoning acquisitions, in relinquishing acquisitions, thoughts connected with acquisitions arise.

He does not tolerate, he abandons, he dispels, he makes an end of, he brings to non-existence.

This too, Udāyi, I call a person who is connected, not disconnected.

And why is that?

Because, Udāyi, I have known the difference in faculties in this person.

Here, Udāyi, a certain person is engaged in the abandonment of attachment, in the relinquishment of attachment.

But sometimes, Udāyi, while engaged in the abandonment of attachment, in the relinquishment of attachment, thoughts connected with attachment arise due to a lapse in mindfulness; slow, Udāyi, is the arising of mindfulness.

But he quickly abandons, dispels, makes an end of, and brings to non-existence those thoughts.

Just as, Udāyi, if a man were to drop two or three drops of water on a hot iron plate heated all day; slow, Udāyi, would be the falling of the drops of water.

But they would quickly evaporate and disappear.

In the same way, Udāyi, here a certain person is engaged in the abandonment of attachment, in the relinquishment of attachment.

But sometimes, Udāyi, while engaged in the abandonment of attachment, in the relinquishment of attachment, thoughts connected with attachment arise due to a lapse in mindfulness; slow, Udāyi, is the arising of mindfulness.

But he quickly abandons, dispels, makes an end of, and brings to non-existence those thoughts.

This too, Udāyi, I call a person who is connected, not disconnected.

And why is that?

Because, Udāyi, I have known the difference in faculties in this person.

Here, Udāyi, a certain person, having known that attachment is the root of suffering, becomes free from attachment, liberated in the destruction of attachment.

This, Udāyi, I call a person who is disconnected, not connected.

And why is that?

Because, Udāyi, I have known the difference in faculties in this person.

These, Udāyi, are the four types of persons existing in the world.

There are five strands of sense satisfaction, Udāyi.

What are the five?

Forms cognizable by the eye that are desirable, attractive, pleasant, endearing, associated with sense satisfaction, and enticing;

sounds cognizable by the ear...

odors cognizable by the nose...

tastes cognizable by the tongue...

tangibles cognizable by the body that are desirable, attractive, pleasant, endearing, associated with sense satisfaction, and enticing.

These, Udāyi, are the five strands of sense satisfaction.

Whatever happiness and joy arise dependent on these five strands of sense satisfaction, this is called sensual happiness, filthy happiness, common happiness, ignoble happiness, not to be cultivated, not to be developed, not to be made much of; one should fear this happiness, I say.

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, quite secluded from sensual pleasures...

enters and dwells in the first jhāna, with the subsiding of directed and sustained attention...

enters and dwells in the second jhāna, with the fading away of pīti...

enters and dwells in the third jhāna, with the abandoning of pleasure...

enters and dwells in the fourth jhāna.

This is called the happiness of renunciation, the happiness of seclusion, the happiness of peace, the happiness of enlightenment, to be cultivated, to be developed, to be made much of; one should not fear this happiness, I say.

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, quite secluded from sensual pleasures... enters and dwells in the first jhāna;

this, Udāyi, I call agitated.

And what is agitated there?

Whatever directed and sustained attention is not stilled, this is what is agitated there.

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, with the subsiding of directed and sustained attention...

enters and dwells in the second jhāna; this too, Udāyi, I call agitated.

And what is agitated there?

Whatever pīti and pleasure are not stilled, this is what is agitated there.

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, with the fading away of pīti...

enters and dwells in the third jhāna; this too, Udāyi, I call agitated.

And what is agitated there?

Whatever equanimity and pleasure are not stilled, this is what is agitated there.

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, with the abandoning of pleasure...

enters and dwells in the fourth jhāna; this, Udāyi, I call unagitated.

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, quite secluded from sensual pleasures...

enters and dwells in the first jhāna; this, Udāyi, I call not enough, abandon it, surpass it.

And what is its surpassing?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, with the subsiding of directed and sustained attention...

enters and dwells in the second jhāna, this is its surpassing; this too, Udāyi, I call not enough, abandon it, surpass it.

And what is its surpassing?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, with the fading away of pīti...

enters and dwells in the third jhāna, this is its surpassing; this too, Udāyi, I call not enough, abandon it, surpass it.

And what is its surpassing?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, with the abandoning of pleasure...

enters and dwells in the fourth jhāna, this is its surpassing.

Indeed, Udāyi, I say it is not enough, I say abandon it, I say overcome it.

And what is its overcoming?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, having completely overcome perceptions of form, having disappeared perceptions of resistance, having not given attention to perceptions of diversity, thinking space is infinite, enters and dwells in the realm of infinite space. This is its overcoming. Indeed, Udāyi, I say it is not enough, I say abandon it, I say overcome it.

And what is its overcoming?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, having completely overcome the realm of infinite space, thinking consciousness is infinite, enters and dwells in the realm of infinite consciousness. This is its overcoming.

Indeed, Udāyi, I say it is not enough, I say abandon it, I say overcome it.

And what is its overcoming?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, having completely overcome the realm of infinite consciousness, thinking there is nothing, enters and dwells in the realm of nothingness. This is its overcoming. Indeed, Udāyi, I say it is not enough, I say abandon it, I say overcome it.

And what is its overcoming?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, having completely overcome the realm of nothingness, enters and dwells in the realm of neither-perception-nor-non-perception. This is its overcoming.

Indeed, Udāyi, I say it is not enough, I say abandon it, I say overcome it.

And what is its overcoming?

Here, Udāyi, a disciple, having completely overcome the realm of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, enters and dwells in the cessation of perception and feeling. This is its overcoming.

Thus, Udāyi, I also say the abandonment of the realm of neither-perception-nor-non-perception.

Do you see, Udāyi, any fetter, whether subtle or gross, of which I do not say the abandonment?

No, Venerable Sir.

The Blessed One said this.

The Venerable Udāyī was satisfied and delighted in the Blessed One's words.

The Discourse on the Simile of the Quail is finished.