20.6 The Story about the Pig Peta
Sūkarapetavatthu

“Verbally guarded,” [30.153] this Dhamma teaching was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana with reference to a pig Peta.

For one day Elder Mahā Moggallāna was descending from Mount Vulture’s Peak with Elder Lakkhaṇa. Reaching a certain spot, he smiled. Thereupon Elder Lakkhaṇa asked him: “Friend, what is the cause of your smile?” Elder Mahā Moggallāna replied: “Friend, it is not the proper time for such a question. Wait until we are in the presence of the Teacher and then ask me.” {3.411} So saying, Elder Mahā Moggallāna, accompanied by Elder Lakkhaṇa, made an almsround in Rājagaha. And returning from his almsround, he went to Veḷuvana, worshipped the Teacher, and sat down.

Then Elder Lakkhaṇa asked him about the matter. Elder Mahā Moggallāna replied: “Friend, I saw a certain Peta. He was three-quarters of a league in size. His body was like the body of a human being. But his head was like the head of a pig, and out of his mouth grew a tail, and out of the tail oozed maggots. Thought I to myself, as I looked at him: ‘Verily I never saw such a creature before.’ It was because I saw that Peta that I smiled.”

The Teacher said: “Bhikkhus, they that are my disciples have indeed eyes to see. I also saw this creature as I sat on the Throne of Awakening. But I thought to myself: ‘Should men not believe me, it would be to their detriment.’ Therefore, out of compassion for others, I said nothing about it. But now that I have Moggallāna for my witness, I speak the truth boldly. Bhikkhus, Moggallāna has spoken the truth.”

When the bhikkhus heard those words of the Teacher, they asked him: “But, venerable Sir, what was his deed in a previous state of existence?” The Teacher replied: “Well then, bhikkhus, listen.” And with reference to the Peta’s former deed, he related the following [30.154]

6a. Story of the Past: The Destroyer of Friendships

It seems that in the dispensation of the Buddha Kassapa there were two elders who lived together in peace and harmony in a certain village monastery. One of them had sixty years seniority, {3.412} and the other had fifty-nine. The younger used to carry the bowl and robe of the older and accompany him about; in fact he used to perform all the major and minor duties like a novice. Like two brothers sprung from the womb of the same mother, they lived together in peace and harmony.

One day a certain teacher of the Dhamma came to their place of residence. Now it was the day appointed for listening to the Dhamma. The two elders offered hospitality to the visitor and said to him: “Good man, teach the Dhamma to us.” So he taught the Dhamma to them. Their hearts were gladdened at the thought: “We have gained a teacher.”

On the following day, taking him with them, they entered a neighboring village for alms. When they had finished their breakfast, they said to him: “Friend, teach the Dhamma for a little while, beginning at the point where you stopped yesterday.” Thus did they cause him to teach the Dhamma to the people. The people, after listening to his teaching of the Dhamma, invited him for the following day also. In this manner they made an almsround in all the villages round about where they were accustomed to receive alms, taking him with them and spending two days in each.

The teacher of the Dhamma thought to himself: “These two elders are exceedingly feeble. I may just as well drive both of them away and take up my residence in this monastery myself.” In the evening he went to wait upon the elders. When it was time for the bhikkhus to rise and go, he returned, approached the senior elder, and said: “Venerable Sir, there is something I ought to say to you.” – “Say it, brother,” replied the senior elder. The teacher of the Dhamma thought a little and then said: “Venerable Sir, what I have to say carries with it severe censure.” And without telling a thing he departed, going immediately to the junior elder and acting in precisely the same manner.

On the second day he did the same thing again. On the third day {3.413} the two elders were agitated beyond measure. The teacher of the Dhamma approached the senior elder and said to him: “Venerable Sir, there is something I ought to say, but I dare not say it in your presence.” But the elder pressed him for a reply, saying: [30.155] “Never mind, brother; say what you have to say.” Finally the teacher of the Dhamma said: “But, venerable Sir, has the junior elder anything to do with you?”

“Good man, what say you? We are like sons sprung from the womb of the same mother; whatever one of us receives, the other receives also; all this time I have never seen a single thing in him that is wrong.” – “Is that so, venerable Sir?” – “That is so, friend.” – “Venerable Sir, this is what the junior elder said to me: ‘Good man, you are of gentle birth, but as for this senior elder, if you intend to have anything to do with him, and if you believe him to be modest and amiable, you had better look out.’ And this he has said repeatedly to me ever since the day I came here.”

When the senior elder heard these words, his heart was filled with anger. Indeed he was shattered even as a potter’s vessel is shattered when struck with a stick. Then the teacher of the Dhamma arose from where he sat, went to the junior elder, and said the same thing to him. The junior elder was shattered just as the senior elder had been before him. Now although during all the years they had lived together neither of them had entered the village singly to receive alms, on the following day the junior elder entered the village alone to receive alms, preceding the senior, and stopping at the attendance hall, while the senior elder followed after.

When the junior elder saw the senior, he thought to himself: “Ought I to take his bowl and robe or not?” {3.414} – “I will not take them now,” he decided. But no sooner had he done so than the thought came to him: “Hold! I have never done such a thing before. I ought not to omit my duty.” So softening his heart, he approached the elder and said to him: “Venerable Sir, give me your bowl and robe.” Said the senior elder: “Begone, you miscreant. You are not fit to take my bowl and robe.” So saying, he snapped his fingers in contempt. Then said the junior elder: “Yes, venerable Sir, I also thought to myself: ‘I will not take your bowl and robe.’” The senior elder said: “Friend newcomer, do you think that I have any attachment for this monastery?” Said the junior elder: “But, venerable Sir, do you suppose that I have any attachment for this monastery? This is your monastery.” So saying, he took bowl and robe and departed. Likewise the senior elder departed. Instead of going out together, one of the elders went out by the western door and went his way, while the other went out by the eastern door and went his way. The teacher of the Dhamma said to them: “Do not so.” The [30.156] elders replied: “You remain, friend.” So the teacher of the Dhamma remained.

When the teacher of the Dhamma entered the neighboring village on the following day, people asked him: “Venerable Sir, where are the venerable bhikkhus?” – “Friends, do not ask me,” replied the teacher of the Dhamma. “The bhikkhus {3.415} who used to resort to your houses had a quarrel yesterday and left the monastery. I tried to prevent them from going, but was unable to do so.” Now some of the people were fools and they remained silent. But others who were wise said: “During all this time we have never seen anything you might call a quarrel between the two venerable bhikkhus; if they have been frightened away, they must have been frightened away by this bhikkhu.” And they were deeply affected with grief.

As for the elders, no matter where they went, they were unable to secure peace of mind. The senior elder thought to himself: “Oh, what a grievous wrong it was that the novice did! The moment he saw this visiting bhikkhu, he said to him: ‘Have nothing to do with the senior elder.’”

Likewise the junior elder thought to himself: “Oh, what a grievous wrong it was that the senior elder did! The moment he saw this visiting bhikkhu, he said to him: ‘Have nothing to do with this junior bhikkhu.’” They were unable either to rehearse the sacred word or to fix their attention.

After a hundred years had passed, both of them came to the same monastery in the western country and both received the same quarters. No sooner had the senior elder entered and taken his seat on the bed, than the junior elder came in. As soon as the senior elder saw him, he recognized him and could not restrain his tears. The junior recognized the senior and with tear-filled eyes thought: “Shall I speak, or shall I not speak?” Then thinking: “That was not a credible thought,” he worshipped the elder and said: “Venerable Sir, {3.416} in all the time during which I took your bowl and robe and accompanied you about, did you ever know me to do anything improper in thought, word, or deed?” – “No, friend, I never did.” – “Then why did you say to the teacher of the Dhamma: ‘Have nothing to do with this man’? ” – “Friend, I never said such a thing. I was told, however, that you said that very thing about me.” – “Venerable Sir, neither did I ever say such a thing.”

At that moment they both realized: “He must have said this to cause a breach between us,” and each confessed his transgression against the other. So it happened that on that day two elders, who [30.157] for the space of a hundred years had not been able to secure peace of mind, became reconciled once more. And they said: “Let us go and drive him out of that monastery.” So they set out and in due course arrived at the monastery.

When the teacher of the Dhamma saw the two elders, he approached to take their bowls and robes. But the elders snapped their fingers in his face and said to him: “You are not fit to reside in this monastery.” Unable to endure the rebuke, the teacher of the Dhamma instantly departed from the monastery and ran away. So, one who had practiced meditation for twenty thousand years was unable to endure a rebuke. Passing from that state of existence, he was reborn in the Avīci Hell. After enduring torment there for the space of an interval between two Buddhas, he now endures suffering on Mount Vulture’s Peak with a body as described above.

When the Teacher had related his former deed, he said: “Bhikkhus, a bhikkhu ought to be tranquil in thought, word, and deed.” So saying, he pronounced the following verse: {3.417}

281. Vācānurakkhī manasā susaṁvuto,
kāyena ca akusalaṁ na kayirā,
ete tayo kammapathe visodhaye,
ārādhaye maggaṁ isippaveditaṁ.

Verbally guarded, well-restrained in mind,
not doing demerit with the body,
one should purify three paths of action,
and undertake the path shown by seers.

At the end of the teaching many reached the fruition of Stream-entry and so on.