II

MORAL CONDUCT

With this chapter I turn to the future Buddha’s moral conduct, which he undertook after having gone forth. This is described in the Bhayabherava-sutta, the Discourse on Fear and Dread, and its Ekottarika-āgama parallel. As the title of the Pāli discourse indicates, the topic of fear is central to the exposition. The relevant passage has its place after a brief exchange between the Buddha and a visiting brahmin on the difficulty of dwelling in seclusion. Here is an extract from the Ekottarika-āgama version:1

At the time [when I was still a bodhisattva], I had this reflection in turn:

“Any recluses or brahmins whose bodily conduct is impure and who frequent secluded dwellings and solitary places with impure bodily conduct, their efforts are in vain, their practice is not genuine, [they will experience] fear as well as evil and unwholesome states. But I now frequent secluded dwellings and [solitary] places with a bodily conduct that is pure. To frequent secluded and quiet places with any impure bodily conduct is not found in me. The reason is that my bodily conduct is now pure.”

I am very much a leader for arahants who have purity of bodily conduct and who delight in secluded dwellings, caves, and [solitary] places. Like this, brahmin, seeing in myself such purity of bodily conduct, I delight in secluded dwelling places, [experiencing] increasing joy.

At the time [when I was still a bodhisattva], I in turn had this reflection:

“Any recluses or brahmins, whose [verbal and] mental conduct is impure, or whose livelihood is impure, and who frequent secluded dwellings and solitary places, even though they practise like this, yet [their practice] is not genuine, they are filled with all [kinds] of evil and unwholesome states. That is not found in me. The reason is that now my 〈 〉2 verbal and mental conduct, as well as my livelihood, is pure. Whatever recluses or brahmins, who have 〈 〉 verbal and mental [purity], as well as purity of livelihood, they delight in staying in seclusion and in dwelling with purity in [solitary] places. That is the case with me. The reason is that I now have [purity] of 〈 〉 verbal and mental conduct, as well as purity of livelihood.”

I am very much a leader for arahants who have 〈 〉 verbal and mental [purity], as well as purity of livelihood, and who delight in staying in seclusion and in quiet places. Like this, brahmin, given that I have 〈 〉 verbal and mental [purity], as well as purity of livelihood, when staying in seclusion and quiet places I [experience] increasing joy.

The Bhayabherava-sutta similarly highlights the importance of having pure moral conduct in its bodily, verbal, and mental dimensions, as well as purity of livelihood, in order to be able to dwell in seclusion without giving rise to fear and dread. This reflects a recurrent emphasis in early Buddhist thought on the need to establish a sound foundation in ethical conduct for meditation practice to be successful.

In my book on Mindfully Facing Disease and Death I took up the relationship between moral conduct and fear at the time of disease and death.³ Of relevance here is that the observance of the precepts can become a way of making a gift of fearlessness to others. By pledging oneself to refrain from conduct that inflicts harm on others, such as killing, stealing, etc., one becomes someone whom others do not need to fear. Having made such a gift of fearlessness, one in turn gains fearlessness when sick or on the verge of death, through being free from regret. It is the dimension of freedom from regret that is similarly relevant in the present context.

Besides, the reference in the Bhayabherava-sutta and its parallel to seclusion as a situation that can easily encourage the arising of fear reflects an idea pervasive in the ancient Indian setting, according to which nature is seen as dangerous and threatening.4 The Ākaṅkheyya-sutta and its Madhyama-āgama parallel list absence of fear among a range of wishes a monastic might have,⁵ confirming that this was an issue among monastic disciples, presumably in particular among those who lived in secluded settings.

A discourse in the Aṅguttara-nikāya, of which unfortunately no parallel is known, brings out in what way external nature can become fearful to one who lives in seclusion.⁶ Being all alone in the forest, one might be bitten by a snake, a scorpion, or a centipede, or else one might be attacked by a lion, a tiger, a leopard, a bear, or a hyena, and because of that one’s life might come to an end. Even if one should not encounter a dangerous animal, one might fall sick and, being alone and without support, pass away because of this. Yet another potential source of sudden death could be criminals who have escaped to the forest and might kill one. Such were potential dangers of dwelling in seclusion in the ancient Indian setting.

The Aṅguttara-nikāya discourse’s survey of potential sources of danger when alone in an ancient Indian forest makes it clear that the problem of fear does not refer only to regret experienced from within, but also to dread aroused by external causes. The Bhayabherava-sutta and its parallel explicitly take up this topic, reporting how the bodhisattva, having established a firm foundation in moral conduct and thereby removed internal causes for the arising of fear, faced fear arisen due to external causes. The relevant passage from the Ekottarika-āgama proceeds in this way:7

While I was staying in secluded dwellings, if at that time the branch of a tree broke, or a bird or an animal ran by, I had this reflection: “This is [what causes] great fear in a forest.” Then I further had this reflection: “If fear comes, I will seek a means to prevent it from coming again.”

If fear and dread came while I was walking, then at that time I did not sit or else lie down, determining to discard that fear and dread, and [only] afterwards did I sit down. Suppose fear and dread came while I was standing, then at that time I did not walk or else sit down, determining to discard that fear and dread, and [only] afterwards did I sit down. If fear and dread came while I was sitting, I did not walk [or else stand], determining to discard that fear and dread, and [only] afterwards did I walk.⁸ If fear and dread came while I was lying down, then at that time I did not walk or else even sit up, determining to discard that fear and dread,⁹ and [only] afterwards did I sit up.¹⁰

The Bhayabherava-sutta similarly describes how, on hearing some unexpected sound in the forest, the bodhisattva would face the arising of any fear by remaining in the same bodily posture. This exemplifies a basic attitude that is particularly salient in mindfulness training, where one learns to stay aware of what happens without immediately reacting to it. In the present case this is the arising of fear, which is met simply by remaining with mindfulness of the body in the present moment, rather than allowing apprehension of what might happen next to take control of one’s mind. When hearing an unexpected sound in the forest, a natural reaction would be to change one’s posture in order to be able to find out what is about to happen and be able to meet any potential source of danger to the best of one’s ability. Or else one might at least wish to get a little bit away or undertake some other bodily action to distract oneself from the fear. Instead, whenever fear arose, the future Buddha made it a practice that he would quietly remain with mindfulness of the body in the very posture in which he had been, when the fear arose, until it naturally subsided.11 In this way the mind stays quietly in the present moment with what is, instead of leaning into the next moment out of a concern with what will be.

In a way the same attitude of standing still also informs moral restraint, inasmuch as when faced with one temptation or another, one rather decides to stay put, so to speak, instead of reacting in an unwholesome manner. In fact the significance of the future Buddha’s moral conduct goes beyond the topic of fear, as it established the indispensable foundation for his meditative practice and eventual gaining of awakening. From the viewpoint of early Buddhist thought, without building up a firm foundation in this way, sustained progress in meditation and the gradual liberation of the mind from defilements can hardly be expected. This is not just because agitation due to regret and a bad conscience tend to interfere with mental composure and tranquillity. Another dimension of the same is that one’s overall conduct needs to be in line with the goal of one’s aspirations in order to be able to lead to it. Every single step taken against the pull of defilements, even if it only manifests as maintenance of basic ethics, is in line with and therefore a step closer to the final goal of total freedom from defilements.

For the purpose of establishing such a foundation by way of moral restraint, a discourse in the Saṃyutta-nikāya and its Saṃyukta-āgama parallel offer a helpful reflection. In the case of abstaining from killing, the Chinese version describes the following reflection:12

“If someone wishes to kill me, that is not enjoyable to me. What is not enjoyable to me, for another it is also like that. [So], how could I kill another?”

Having had this reflection, one undertakes not to kill living beings and does not enjoy when living beings are killed.

The Saṃyutta-nikāya version explains that such a reflection motivates one to abstain from killing, to encourage others to abstain in the same way, and to speak in praise of such abstention. The two versions apply the same principle to other types of moral misconduct. Although the principle underlying this reflection itself probably needs no further comment, I would nevertheless like to draw attention to the fact that this involves both compassion and mindfulness.¹³ It is precisely by establishing a flexible and open attitude through mindfulness that one can put oneself mentally into the situation of another, based on which compassion naturally arises and stops one from doing what is harmful to others.

Besides mindfulness and compassion, another source of inspiration for keeping the precepts is that one thereby emulates the conduct of a Buddha and his arahant disciples. This comes to the fore in a discourse addressed to a female householder, versions of which are found in the Aṅguttara-nikāya and in the Madhyama-āgama. Here is the part relevant to the topic of killing from the Madhyama-āgama discourse:¹⁴

For their whole life arahants, “worthy ones”,15 refrain from killing, abandon killing, giving up knife and stick [out of a sense of] shame and scruple, with a mental attitude of mettā and compassion, with empathy for all beings,¹⁶ including insects; they purify their minds from killing living beings.

For my whole life I also refrain from killing, abandon killing, giving up knife and stick [out of a sense of] shame and scruple, with a mental attitude of mettā and compassion, with empathy for all beings, including insects; I am now purifying my mind from killing living beings.

In this respect I am similar to arahants, not different from them.

A minor difference in the Aṅguttara-nikāya version is that insects do not find explicit mention. The same difference recurs among other parallels to this discourse extant in Chinese translation, two of which do not mention insects,¹⁷ whereas another two parallels mention worms and insects.¹⁸

The basic principle underlying this reflection serves to highlight that by abstaining from killing, and by extension refraining from other types of unwholesome conduct, one is emulating the conduct of arahants. However much at present one’s mind may seem far removed from total freedom from defilements, at least inasmuch as moral conduct is concerned, one can indeed come to be “similar to arahants, not different from them”. Needless to say, every single moment one cultivates being similar to arahants in this way is yet another step closer to becoming one of them oneself.

Besides extending the above reflection to other dimensions of moral conduct, the Aṅguttara-nikāya discourse and its Madhyama-āgama parallel also bring in the six recollections, anussati, one of which is precisely to recollect one’s own moral conduct. The Madhyama-āgama version describes this in the following manner:19

One recollects one’s own morality: “[My morality] is not deficient, not defective, not defiled, not corrupted; it is extensively and widely [undertaken] without expecting a reward, as praised by the wise. I am well endowed with it, well inclined towards it, well undertaking it, and well upholding it.”

One who has recollected one’s own morality in this way will in turn gain the ceasing of any evil pondering, and will also gain the ceasing of any defiled, evil, and unwholesome state.

The Aṅguttara-nikāya discourse and its Madhyama-āgama parallel agree in comparing the effect of such recollection to cleaning a dirty mirror through appropriate means until it becomes shiny and bright. This illustration makes it clear, I think, that such recollection is not meant only for those who already have completely pure moral conduct. Instead, recollection of one’s morality is of relevance to those whose situation is similar to a dirty mirror, in the sense that, by paying attention to the clean and bright places in the mirror of one’s own mind and making an effort to clear away any dirt, the mind will become ever more bright and shiny. Another point of the simile is that the motivation to clean a mirror comes from having looked at it. Similarly, looking at one’s own morality by way of recollection can go a long way in strengthening one’s motivation to keep improving the ethical foundation of one’s life and practice.

EXERCISE

By way of putting into practice the aspects of recollection of morality described above, I would recommend monitoring our own conduct carefully in order to see for ourselves how it affects the condition of our mind. Such careful monitoring can bring to light the degree to which the ethical dimension of our behaviour directly impacts on what happens in the mind. The task with such monitoring is not only to focus on unwholesome conduct and transgressions, but also to be aware of whatever wholesome conduct we may be able to identify. Every single instance of wholesome conduct or at least refraining from what is unwholesome, however small it may be, can be used to arouse a sense of compassion and joyful inspiration – compassion in the sense of realizing that we are doing to others what we would wish others do to us; inspiration in the sense that, by acting in this way, we share the beauty of virtuous conduct with arahants. Whenever we successfully refrain from an unwholesome action, this can become a source of joy by recollecting that this is what the Buddha would have encouraged us to do.

1 The translated passage is taken from EĀ 31.1 at T II 665c2 to 665c19 (translated Anālayo 2016a: 14f), parallel to MN 4 at MN I 17,11 (translated Ñāṇamoli 1995/2005: 102f); for a comparative study see Anālayo 2011: 38.

2 Here and below, the use of 〈 〉 signals an emendation. The text repeats “bodily”, which I have not translated on the assumption that this is a textual error, as bodily conduct has already been covered in the preceding paragraph.

3 Anālayo 2016b: 79.

4 See, e.g., Schmithausen 1991: 29 and 1997 as well as Boucher 2008: 54.

5 MN 6 at MN I 33,26 (translated Ñāṇamoli 1995/2005: 115f) and MĀ 105 at T I 596a3; see also AN 10.71 at AN V 132,17 (translated Bodhi 2012: 1427) and for a survey of the listings in these versions as well as in another parallel, EĀ 37.5, Anālayo 2011: 47f.

6 AN 5.77 at AN III 101,5 (translated Bodhi 2012: 709f). Although this Aṅguttara-nikāya discourse does not appear to have a parallel, this could simply be the result of the somewhat accidental distribution of discourses among the Āgamas where, in particular in the case of the Ekottarika-āgama preserved in Chinese, only a fraction of the discourses have parallels in the Aṅguttara-nikāya. In other words, absence of a parallel does not in itself automatically imply that a discourse is late.

7 The translated passage is based on EĀ 31.1 at T II 666a28 to 666b9, parallel to MN 4 at MN I 20,37.

8 The translation is based on adopting the variant “walking” instead of a reference to “sitting”, which seems out of context.

9 The translation is based on adopting a variant without an additional character that is also not found in the previous passages.

10 The translation is based on adopting the variant “sitting” instead of a reference to “lying down”, which seems out of context.

11 Giustarini 2012: 529 comments on the present passage in MN 4 that “an absence of physical movement promotes a state of equanimity which in turn allows the overcoming of fear. Physical stillness and stability seem to be able to inspire mental stillness and stability, which are helpful remedies in counteracting and eventually eradicating fear.” On mindfulness of the body see also Anālayo 2013b: 55–61 and 2017b: 39–43.

12 The translated passage is taken from SĀ 1044 at T II 273b16 to 273b18, parallel to SN 55.7 at SN V 353,29 (translated Bodhi 2000: 1797); for a Gāndhārī parallel see Allon in Glass 2007: 12.

13 On various dimensions of compassion in the early discourses see Anālayo 2015a: 5–74.

14 The translated passage is taken from MĀ 202 at T I 770b25 to 770c2, parallel to AN 3.70 at AN I 211,18 (translated Bodhi 2012: 298f).

15 “Worthy one” is the literal meaning of the term arahant. The Chinese original uses two phrases that both correspond to arahant. The first of these is a phonetic rendering and the second a translation of the term, which rendered literally would be “true person”. My translation as “worthy one” reflects the underlying Indic term rather than its Chinese rendering.

16 Although the couplet of Chinese characters used in this part of the original means more literally “benefit”, it can also serve to render anukampā and this sense seems most appropriate to the context.

17 T 89 at T I 913a25 and EĀ 24.6 at T II 625b15.

18 T 87 at T I 911a18 and T 88 at T I 912b6; on this type of difference see also Martini 2012: 60 note 38.

19 The translated passage is based on MĀ 202 at T I 772a1 to 772a4, parallel to AN 3.70 at AN I 210,1.