The king said: ‘He who has intelligence, Nāgasena, has he also wisdom ?’
‘Yes, great king.’
‘What; are they both the same?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then would he, with his intelligence—which, you say, is the same as wisdom—be still in bewilderment or not?’
‘In regard to some things, yes; in regard to others, no.’
‘What would he be in bewilderment about?’
‘He would still be in bewilderment as to those parts of learning he had not learnt, as to those countries he had not seen, and as to those names or terms he had not heard.’
‘And wherein would he not be in bewilderment?’
‘As regards that which has been accomplished by insight—(the perception, that is,) of the impermanence of all beings, of the suffering inherent in individuality, and of the non-existence of any soul.’
‘Then what would have become of his delusions on those points.’
‘When intelligence has once arisen, that moment delusion has died away.’
‘Give me an illustration.’
‘It is like the lamp, which when a man has brought into a darkened room, then the darkness would vanish away, and light would appear.’
‘And what, Nāgasena, on the other hand, has then become of his wisdom?’
‘When the reasoning wisdom has effected that which it has to do, then the reasoning ceases to go on. But that which has been acquired by means of it remains—the knowledge, to wit, of the impermanence of every being, of the suffering inherent in individuality, and of the absence of any soul.’
‘Give me an illustration, reverend Sir, of what you have last said.’
‘It is as when a man wants, during the night, to send a letter, and after having his clerk called, has a lamp lit, and gets the letter written. Then, when that has been done, he extinguishes the lamp. But though the lamp had been put out the writing would still be there. Thus does reasoning cease, and knowledge remain.’
‘Give me a further illustration.’
‘In Eastern districts The peasants have a custom of arranging five pots full of water behind each hut with the object of putting out at once any spark of fire that may be kindled. Suppose now the house had caught fire, and they had thrown those five potfulls of water over the hut, and the fire had gone out, would those peasants then think of still going on using the water-pots?’
‘No, Sir, the water-pots would be done with. What would be the use of them (on that occasion) any more?’
‘The five water-pots are the five organs of moral sense—faith, to wit, and perseverance in effort, and mindfulness, and meditation, and the reasoning wisdom. The peasantry are the recluse, who is devoted in effort ; the fire is sinfulness. As the fire is put out by the water in the five pots, so is sinfulness extinguished by the five organs of moral sense, and when once extinguished it does not again arise.’
‘Give me a further illustration.’
‘It is like a physician who goes to the sick man with the five kinds of drugs made from medicinal roots, and grinding them up, gives him to drink, and thereby his sickness passes away. Would the physician in that case think of making any further use of the medicine?’
‘Certainly not, the medicine has done its work. What would be the use of any more?’
‘Just so, O king, when sinfulness is destroyed by the five moral powers, then reasoning ceases, but knowledge remains.’
‘Give me a further illustration.’
‘It is like a warrior, at home in war, who takes five javelins and goes down to ‘battle to conquer the foe. And when he has cast them the enemy is broken. There is no need for him to go on casting javelins any more.’
‘Well put, Nāgasena!’