By Acharya Chhim-Sumn, Saddhammappaññā
The venerable elder Buddhaghosa was a monk whose name was greatly renowned among the adherents of the Southern school of Buddhism. His life story has been compiled by many chroniclers in various scriptures, namely the Mahāvaṃsa, the Buddhaghosanidāna, the Visamālinī, the Ñāṇodaya, the Suttajātaknidānānisaṅsa, and the Buddhaghosappavattikathā, among others. The content of these stories is sometimes consistent from beginning to end, and sometimes varies in certain parts. I have now examined these stories and extracted their essence to compile them into a distinct account, as follows.
Hereafter.
At a time 956 years after the Parinibbāna of the Perfectly Enlightened Arahant, there was a king named Mahānāma who reigned over the island of Laṅkā. At that time, there was a young man named Ghosa,[1] born into the family of a royal Brahmin priest, near the Bodhi Maṇḍala in the Middle Country of Jambudvīpa.
According to the Buddhaghosanidāna, before this young man was born, there was an arahant, whose name is not mentioned, who was the grand-uncle of a Brahmin named Kesi anda Brahmin woman named Kesinī. He often visited the Brahmin’s family. Because this arahant had great compassion for the future of the Buddha’s teachings, one day he had a thought in his mind: “Alas! The Buddha’s words, the Tipiṭaka along with its commentaries, which the Elder compilers of the Dhamma wrote down on palm leaves, exist only in the Sinhala language over in Laṅkā. If that is so, how can these words of the Buddha be propagated to Jambudvīpa in the Magadhan language?” As he was thinking this, he suddenly remembered: “Only the deva Ghosa, who resides in the Tusita heaven, is a being with sufficiently mature spiritual power to be able to translate the Tipiṭaka and its commentaries from the Sinhala language into the Magadhan language.”
After thinking thus, he went to the Tāvatiṃsa heaven, approached the great King Amarindrādhirāja (Indra), and requested that his majesty invite the deva Ghosa to descend and take conception in the womb of the lady Kesinī, the wife of the Brahmin Kesi, who was his lay supporter. Indra accepted the request and promised to help with the translation of the Tipiṭaka as well.
The deva Ghosa descended and was born in the womb of the lady Kesinī. When born, he was given the name “Ghosakumāra.” He was handsome, possessed keen intelligence, and was able to master the study of the Three Vedas[2] by the age of seven.
One day, Ghosakumāra listened to the Abhidhamma in the presence of the arahant who was his grand-uncle. He felt great faith, seeing it as a science with a much deeper and more subtle meaning than the science of the Three Vedas he had studied. He then asked the arahant, “What is the name of this science?” The arahant replied, “This science is called the Buddha’s mantra.” “Venerable sir, may I be allowed to study it?” “Yes, but you must first be ordained.” Ghosakumāra then went to ask permission from his parents to be ordained in order to study the Buddha’s mantra. His parents pleaded with him many times to dissuade him, but the boy persisted, promising, “I will be ordained only to study the Buddha’s mantra to completion, and then I will surely return.” His parents then allowed him to be ordained according to his wish. (This point should be contemplated, as it shows that the boy Ghosa had a disposition different from other people.)
As for the account in the Ghosappavattikathā, it states that the boy Ghosa was valiant in all arts and sciences, having mastered the Three Vedas. He wandered through districts, villages, and royal cities in Jambudvīpa, always engaging in discussions wherever there were learned ascetics and Brahmins. No other ascetics or Brahmins could answer the questions that the boy Ghosa asked. However, the boy Ghosa could solve the questions posed by other ascetics and Brahmins without any difficulty. The boy Ghosa, having thus intellectually subdued all of Jambudvīpa, arrived at a monastery. In that monastery, there were many hundreds of monks. The Sangha elder, named Revata, who was of advanced age, was a great and profound scholar who had attained the four analytical knowledges and was a vanquisher of the doctrines of others. One night, the young man Ghosa recited the Patañjali mantra* with perfect clarity and correctness. The elder heard the sound of the young man Ghosa chanting and knew, “This young man has great intelligence.”
A teaching for paying homage to Brahmā, etc. “enough to challenge my own,” he thought. He then summoned the young man and asked him, “O Brahmin, who is making a noise like a donkey?” The young man Ghosa replied with a question, “Venerable ascetic, do you know the cry of a donkey?” “Yes, sir, I know it.”
A separate account says that the young man Ghosa could not find the origin of the scriptures within the Three Vedas, which had the five Itihāsas as their complete set, and neither could his teacher. The young man Ghosa then asked the elder about the origin of those scriptures. The elder, having already mastered the Three Vedas in the traditional way and having also attained the four analytical knowledges, had no difficulty in answering the question. He answered all of those questions in an instant. Then he addressed the young man Ghosa, saying, “O noble Brahmin, you have asked me many questions. Now it is my turn to ask you just one question.” “Please, venerable ascetic, ask.” The elder posed a question from the depths of his mind, saying, “Whose consciousness arises but does not cease, whose consciousness will cease and not arise again, or whose consciousness will cease and not arise again, and whose consciousness always arises but does not cease—what kind of individual is this?” The young man could not solve it. He then asked, “Venerable ascetic, what is this called?” “O Brahmin, this is called the Buddha’s mantra.” “Venerable sir, could you grant this Buddha’s mantra to me?” “I can grant it only to one who has taken up the homeless life of an ascetic.” At that, the young man Ghosa requested ordination to study the mantra. The elder ordained the young man Ghosa, gave him the higher ordination, and taught him the Buddha’s words, that is, the Tipiṭaka. That bhikkhu Ghosa became known in the world by the name “Buddhaghosa.”[3]
The account in the Suttajātaknidānānisaṅsa and the Buddhaghosanidāna states that the boy Ghosa was ordained as a novice in the presence of the arahant, his preceptor. He was praised for being a clansman’s son with excellent conduct and discipline. This novice was diligent in sweeping the monastery clean, diligent in going on alms round, diligent in performing minor and major duties for his preceptor, and diligent in studying the Tipiṭaka from the lips of his preceptor. He was a clansman’s son endowed with sharp and quick-witted intelligence. A single verse explained by his preceptor, he could understand up to a hundred or a thousand verses. He learned and memorized the entire Tipiṭaka, the 84,000 units of the Dhamma, without any confusion. When he reached the age of 20, he received higher ordination as a bhikkhu and was given the name “Buddhaghosa.” He was famous for his beautiful and eloquent preaching, and skilled at resolving the most profound of questions, surpassing all other scholars. As the praise for him grew ever greater, he thought to himself, “My preceptor probably knows only this much.” The moment he thought this, his preceptor knew. He forbade the Venerable Buddhaghosa from performing his duties any longer, accusing him of disrespecting his preceptor. The Venerable Buddhaghosa begged for forgiveness, whereupon his preceptor imposed a penance, saying, “Only when you go and translate the Tipiṭaka and its commentaries in Laṅkā, which are in the Sinhala language, into the Magadhan language, and bring them back to Jambudvīpa, will this fault be absolved.” This task of penance was not at all burdensome for the Venerable Buddhaghosa; it was as if someone were pushing a large fish into the sea. The Venerable Buddhaghosa accepted the penance with joy and prepared to go to Laṅkā. But before departing, he took leave of his preceptor and went to exhort his parents to keep the precepts and develop meditation until they attained the fruit of Sotāpatti. He then took leave of his parents and returned to his preceptor to begin his journey to Laṅkā.
The account in the Buddhaghosappavattikathā states: The Venerable Buddhaghosa, after his higher ordination, composed a scripture in that monastery named “Ñāṇodaya.” When it was finished, he was beginning to compose the Atthasālinī, the commentary on the Abhidhamma Saṅgaṇī, and the commentary on the Paritta,[4] when the Great Elder addressed him, saying, “Venerable Buddhaghosa, in Jambudvīpa, the Tipiṭaka is not yet complete. In the island of Sīhaḷa (Laṅkā), it is complete, along with the commentaries in the Sinhala language which the elders, beginning with the Venerable Sāriputta,[5] raised up and held a council for. Therefore, you must go to the island of Sīhaḷa and translate all those commentaries into the Magadhan language. Those commentaries will bring benefit to all sentient beings.” When the Great Elder spoke thus, the Venerable Buddhaghosa was filled with joyful elation. He paid homage and took leave of his preceptor and the community of monks, journeying towards the port. He boarded a ship and, upon reaching the middle of the great ocean, he saw an elder named “Buddhadatta” who was coming by ship, returning to meet him. They engaged in a friendly conversation about all matters, and then the venerable one continued past that place and arrived at the port of the island of Laṅkā.
The account in the Buddhaghosanidāna and the Suttajātaka tells of the conversation between the Venerable Buddhadatta and the Venerable Buddhaghosa, stating that when the Venerable Buddhaghosa boarded the ship to go, the god Indra was the helmsman steering the ship. When he met the ship of the Venerable Buddhadatta, Indra turned the helm to bring the ships close together. The Venerable Buddhadatta then questioned the Venerable Buddhaghosa and learned for certain that he was going to translate the scriptures on the island of Laṅkā. He then exclaimed, “Friend! I fear your wish will not be fulfilled. What are you hiding! It was I who had such a wish. I left Jambudvīpa for Laṅkā when I was young, and until now I am 100 years old. I have managed to translate only one scripture, and that scripture I have named ‘Jinālaṅkāra.’ When I could not achieve what I had hoped, I returned in despair. Friend, I fear you are going in vain.”
“Why?” the Venerable Buddhaghosa asked. “Why does the elder say so?”
“Friend, because the Sinhala scriptures are exceedingly subtle! They have profound and vast meaning! It is not easy to contemplate them and penetrate their meaning at all.” “Venerable sir, what you say is believable, but please forgive me, it seems as though I, your reverence, am a stubborn person. In this matter, I see an analogy: There was a man who wanted a wife. When he heard that the daughter of a certain family was beautiful and possessed all the perfect qualities of a woman, that man went to see her for himself and was captivated, unable to be without her. He went to ask for her hand and tried to please her parents in every way, but they would not give their daughter to him. Later, another man intended to go and ask for the young woman’s hand. The first man came and stopped him, saying, ‘Don’t go! They won’t give her to you!’ I, your reverence, think that the first man should not have stopped the other. Just because he himself was unfortunate, why would he want others to be as unfortunate as he?”
When the Venerable Buddhadatta heard this analogy, he added, “Friend, you do not believe that the Sinhala scriptures are exceedingly subtle, do you! If so, just look at the Jinālaṅkāra scripture which I have translated, and you will know that this work is difficult,” and he took the Jinālaṅkāra scripture and gave it to the Venerable Buddhaghosa to examine. The Venerable Buddhaghosa examined it and, seeing the clear meaning, also saw some contradictory points and helped to explain them to the Venerable Buddhadatta. The Venerable Buddhadatta was overjoyed and exclaimed in praise, “Friend, you are truly a wise man, fit to go and translate the scriptures in Laṅkā.” Then he offered a samara fruit with a stylus and a sharpening stone to the Venerable Buddhaghosa, saying: “Indra offered these items to me when I set out to translate the scriptures on the island of Laṅkā. They are items of special power. As for this samara fruit, if you eat just a little piece, it can cure all diseases. As for this stylus, if it is sharpened on this stone just once, you can inscribe the entire Tipiṭaka. Now, I offer them to you. But please, take this Jinālaṅkāra scripture of mine and revise it for me.” The Venerable Buddhaghosa agreed to revise it for him right away.
In an instant, the work was finished, a scripture perfectly correct and better than what the Venerable Buddhadatta had labored on for so long. The Venerable Buddhadatta was filled with admiration and uttered words of praise for all his qualities, and then they parted ways, each going as they wished. The Venerable Buddhaghosa arrived at the port of the island of Laṅkā during the reign of King Mahānāma, the lord of Laṅkā.
An account praising the quick wit and courage of the Venerable Buddhaghosa on another occasion says: When he docked the ship at the port of Laṅkā, a slave woman of a wealthy merchant came down to fetch water. While carrying a full pot of water on her hip, she had not yet cleared the riverbank when another slave woman of a different merchant, a fierce woman with aggressive behavior, came down to fetch water, swinging her pot. The pot of the woman coming down struck the pot of the woman coming up, shattering both and causing loss to both. The woman with the empty pot cursed and insulted the lineage, parents, and master of the woman with the heavy pot who was coming up. That woman cursed back, and it turned into a huge quarrel, with them hitting and kicking each other to their hearts’ content before returning to their respective homes.
As for the Venerable Buddhaghosa, from the moment he saw the fierce slave woman approaching, he immediately thought, “This woman’s actions will certainly cause a quarrel right now. If these women do quarrel, I will surely be called as a witness. If I say I do not know, it will be a lie. If I speak what I know, it is not fitting for a monk to be a witness in a laypersons’ dispute. Well then, if that is the case, I should just note down their quarrel.” Then he reached for a palm leaf and a stylus, and as they came into his hand, the two women began quarreling at that very moment. The speech of the Sinhala people is naturally rapid, more so than that of people from other countries. When they quarrel, it becomes even more rapid, like the blades of a fast-spinning fan. The words that the two women quarreled with, numbering two thousand words each, without hesitation or pause, even so, the Venerable Buddhaghosa was able to transcribe them without any mistake or confusion.[6]
The slave woman with the light pot, being a fierce woman, returned home and went to incite her master, the merchant, fabricating a story and accusingly saying, “I was walking along peacefully when that slave woman of such-and-such merchant suddenly ran into me, breaking my pot, and then she insulted my lineage and family, extending to you, my master.
Furthermore, that slave woman would not dare to look down on me like that unless she was relying on her master’s power.”
When the merchant heard this, he flew into a rage and said, “Is that so! If so, I will sue her until she and her master are ruined.” And that merchant went to prostrate himself before the king, accusing the slave woman with the heavy pot, extending to her merchant master as well. The king commanded that both disputing parties assemble. After questioning them on all the details, he could not yet pass a just judgment because both parties continued to have excuses. The king asked for witnesses, and both slave women replied in testimony, “When we, your servants, were arguing, there was only a monk sitting on a ship who saw and heard.” The king then commanded a courtier to go and invite the Venerable Buddhaghosa to come, as he did not yet know which monk it was. When the royal courtier arrived at the ship and prostrated himself to convey the royal command, the Venerable Buddhaghosa explained according to his thoughts and gave the notes he had transcribed of the women’s quarrel to be presented to the king in his place. The great king viewed the notes and knew in his royal heart that it was indeed the handwriting of a learned monk. He then judged the case, saying, “The slave woman with the light pot is a wicked woman who caused trouble for her superiors and also showed contempt for a person of rank. You are guilty! According to your offense, you should pay a fine according to the law. However, because this matter also involves a monk, you need only compensate for her pot, three for one.”
The slave woman with the light pot objected to the royal decree, saying, “Why does Your Majesty believe the notes of that wretched monk? That monk is not one who upholds the precepts and discipline! He is certainly a merchant who came by ship to trade. I saw him sitting there hunched over, looking only at the path where buyers come. May Your Majesty reject his words and not take them as proof.” The king said, “Well, well! This slave woman is insolent, daring to look down upon a monk again. If so, you must go and ask for forgiveness in the presence of the venerable one! Only then will you be absolved of this offense.”
As for the Venerable Buddhaghosa, he desired to go and pay homage to the Great Elder who was the head of the Saṅgha in Laṅkā. He therefore disembarked from the ship and made his way to the Mahāvihāra monastery in the city of Anuradhapura. At that time, the Elder Saṅghapāla, who held the position of the Great Saṅgharāja, was teaching the Dhamma and Vinaya to many monks. The Venerable Buddhaghosa saw this activity and thought, “If I enter now, it might interrupt the teaching.” So he stood discreetly in a suitable place where the Elder Saṅghapāla would not see him. As for the Elder Saṅghapāla, at the very moment the Venerable Buddhaghosa arrived, he suddenly forgot and lost the thread of what he was explaining to his students. He felt great shame in his heart and went to compose himself in his room, his face downcast, as if his heart, liver, and gall had fallen from his body.
Regarding this point, wise men have posed a question to each other: “Why is it that just by the Venerable Buddhaghosa’s arrival, the Elder Saṅghapāla completely forgot his memory like that?” A teacher who had attained the knowledge of past lives answered that it was due to the power of past kamma. “What was the past kamma?” The past kamma was a wrong deed that the Elder Saṅghapāla had committed in a previous life. In a former life, the Elder Saṅghapāla was a cowherd named Gopāla. He used to drive his cattle to graze near a monastery. At that time, the Venerable Buddhaghosa was a monk who was reciting the Dhamma by heart. He was startled and confused, forgetting the Dhamma he was reciting, because he heard the commotion of the cattle and the sound of the cowherd. As a result, in his present life, the Elder Saṅghapāla forgot the Dhamma and could not explain it further to his students merely because of the arrival of the Venerable Buddhaghosa.
As for the Venerable Buddhaghosa, he saw what happened and knew that “the Elder Saṅghapāla has forgotten the passage.” He then wrote down the passage in the place where the Elder Saṅghapāla had forgotten it, left it where he was teaching, and departed.
When the Elder Saṅghapāla came out from his room, he saw the writing and became enlightened in an instant. He then asked his students, “What deva or human came and wrote these letters here, so fine and clear?” The students replied, “We saw a strange monk of fine and unusual appearance standing near here. It was probably that monk who wrote these letters.” The Elder Saṅghapāla inquired further and learned that the monk was the Venerable Buddhaghosa, who was staying on the ship at the port. He then sent a monk, who was his student, to go and invite him to come. When the Venerable Buddhaghosa arrived, he paid homage to the Elder Saṅghapāla with respect. When the Elder Saṅghapāla asked, he replied, explaining everything, “Before I arrived here, I knew that the Great Elder was confused. I intended to inform you in your presence immediately, but it seemed like boasting too much of my knowledge. If I did not inform you at all, it seemed like looking down on the Buddha’s teachings. Therefore, I wrote to correct the mistake. Please, may the Great Elder grant me forgiveness.” The Elder Saṅghapāla received this with joy, saying, “Friend! You are a wise man. I am exceedingly delighted with the task you have helped me complete. And I have great affection and esteem for you, who possesses so much knowledge. Therefore, I invite you to stay in my monastery to help teach the Tipiṭaka to the monks. Please accept out of compassion for the Buddha’s teachings.” The Venerable Buddhaghosa declined, saying, “Please have mercy. I came to this place because my preceptor sent me to translate the Tipiṭaka along with its commentaries from the Sinhala language into the Magadhan language. Once finished, I will return immediately. If I stay here to help teach the Tipiṭaka, it would be a great transgression of my preceptor’s command.”
When the Elder Saṅghapāla heard this, he was even more pleased, thinking, “This person must be profoundly knowledgeable for his preceptor to dare send him to translate the Sinhala scriptures into the Magadhan language.” However, the Elder Saṅghapāla was not yet fully convinced whether he could actually translate it or not. He then told him, “Friend! The task you intend to do is very difficult! You are not the only one with such an intention. Previously, there was an elder named Buddhadatta who came to translate the Sinhala scriptures into the Magadhan language. He worked for many years and managed only one scripture before recently returning.” The Venerable Buddhaghosa said, “Venerable sir, that is indeed true. I also met the Venerable Buddhadatta.
I even helped to correct the contents of the Jinālaṅkāra scripture which the Venerable Buddhadatta had not yet correctly composed.”
When the Elder Saṅghapāla heard this, he was overjoyed and his heart thrilled. He thought, “This person is truly skilled and knowledgeable. If so, I shall ask him a subtle and profound question.” He then posed the question that a deva had asked the Buddha, in the words of the deva:
Anto jaṭā, bahi jaṭā, jaṭāya jaṭitā pajā,
Taṃ taṃ gotama pucchāmi, ko imaṃ vijaṭaye jaṭaṃ?
The meaning is: “There is a tangle within, and a tangle without. This generation is entangled in a tangle. O Gotama, I ask you this: who can disentangle this tangle?”
The Venerable Buddhaghosa replied according to the Buddha’s words, which the Teacher had spoken in response to the deva:
Sīle patiṭṭhāya naro sapañño,
Cittaṃ paññañca bhāvayaṃ, ātāpī nipako bhikkhu,
So imaṃ vijaṭaye jaṭaṃ.
The meaning is: “Any person who fears the dangers of the cycle of rebirth, endowed with wisdom from a wholesome karmic conception,[7] and who establishes himself in virtue, develops the mind which is concentration, develops wisdom[8] which is insight, is one who has the diligence to burn away the defilements, and has mature wisdom.[9] That person can disentangle this tangle.”
(The meaning of this question is profound and vast; it is the foundation of the entire practice of the Buddha’s teachings. If explained in detail, it corresponds to the 84,000 units of the Dhamma in the Tipiṭaka.) When the Venerable Buddhaghosa had finished his answer, the venerable Elder Saṅghapāla was filled with profound faith and said, “O wise one! You were able to answer this question in accordance with the Buddha’s words without any error. This leads me to believe that you, venerable sir, have remembered all the Buddha’s words without omission. Therefore, I request that you, venerable sir, kindly compose a scripture explaining Sīla (virtue), Samādhi (concentration), and Paññā (wisdom), which are the foundations of the Buddha’s teachings, for me. Can you, venerable sir, complete it within a period of three months?” The Venerable Buddhaghosa accepted the directive, saying, “Please have mercy. I guarantee to compose and offer it to you by tomorrow morning for certain.” The venerable Elder Saṅghapāla, the Great Saṅgharāja, was astonished in his royal heart and said, “I have a firm hope that I will certainly see the masterpiece accomplished by the meritorious wisdom of you, a wise man, in a very short time.”
The Venerable Buddhaghosa, having received such a weighty task, prostrated himself and took leave of the venerable Elder Saṅghapāla. He returned to the ship at the port, took his stylus and palm leaves, and sat at the prow of the ship to compose the scripture during the first watch of the full moon night.
At that time, the great king Indra informed the moon deity to shine with extraordinary brightness, and told the cloud deity to sweep away the clouds so they would not obscure the moon’s rays.
The Venerable Buddhaghosa began inscribing and composing the scripture, finishing it within the first watch of that night. He named it “Visuddhimagga,”[10] explaining Sīla (virtue), Samādhi (concentration), and Paññā (wisdom). He then retired to his resting place and slept for a short while. Indra then secretly snatched the scripture and hid it in order to proclaim the meritorious power of this elder. The Venerable Buddhaghosa
(continued from previous page footnote) If the Venerable Buddhaghosa truly composed it in one watch of the night, it is a cause for great strain on the minds of the ignorant who try hard to comprehend it. For some people refuse to believe in the extraordinary feats of meritorious individuals, arguing that they themselves have tried to do such things and failed, so they pull down the name of the one who succeeded, saying he could not have succeeded either. I am not a person who closes his eyes and just believes, but I dare not reject what has been recorded. I see that if we humans did not have such extraordinary power, why would people call us “beings born of merit”? Meritorious people are special. Not only the Venerable Buddhaghosa, but there are many others with different names, but they differ only in that some have this kind of merit, some have that kind. For example, the general Bandhula could cut sixty bamboo stalks, filled with iron cores, with a single sword stroke. He could shoot one arrow through 500 cart canopies and kill 500 men. This is also a meritorious person who is hard to believe, but when one remembers the Buddha’s saying, “Natthi kammaphalaṃ samaṃ” (There is no power equal to the power of kamma), that alone is reason enough not to disbelieve. A person like the Venerable Buddhaghosa is called an “acchariya-purisa” or “acchariya-puggala,” which corresponds to the French word “génie” awoke and could not find the scripture he had composed. He understood that Indra had taken it. He was not at all agitated and recomposed the scripture a second time. When the second one was finished, Indra hid that one as well. The Venerable Buddhaghosa then composed it a third time.
The next morning, the Venerable Buddhaghosa took the third copy of the scripture and proceeded towards the Mahāvihāra monastery. Indra also brought the two hidden copies of the scripture and followed behind.
Later, some of the Cātummahārājika devas held flags, some held fans, some held exquisite flowers of various colors, escorting him from the right and the left into the Mahāvihāra monastery. All the people saw the devas with their own eyes and thronged to join the procession. The Venerable Buddhaghosa presented all three completed scriptures directly to the venerable Elder Saṅghapāla. The venerable Elder Saṅghapāla received them with great joy and said, “I am greatly delighted to have met you, a wise man capable of such a feat of genius. But I see that you seem to be showing off a little, because I asked you to compose just one scripture. Now, you have altered it to be more than two, bringing three completed scriptures to show off to us people of Laṅkā. This action seems unfitting for a wise person, don’t you think, venerable sir?” The Venerable Buddhaghosa thought in his heart, “Oh my! It has come to this! From the beginning, I was very worried about this matter. Now the venerable Elder Saṅghapāla has directly accused me. This is an opportunity to clear myself and not be disparaged any further.” He then replied to the elder’s words, saying, “May you have mercy! This deed was not done by me to boast or to make the people of Laṅkā admire me. It is certainly done with a pure heart. The reason this scripture has grown to three copies is because a thief from the heavenly realm kept coming to steal it away. I was going to wait until I found the lost scripture before presenting it, but I was afraid it would not be at the appointed time. Therefore, I composed one copy after another to replace the lost one. After finishing the third scripture, Indra brought back the first two copies. Please, have mercy! It was Indra! He was the one who stole the scriptures. Now, I have brought him here as a witness. This is how the story is. Please forgive my offense.”
At that time, the community of monks gathered to read all three scriptures together. They were identical, without any difference in text, in letters, in words, in phrasing; in meaning, in the beginning and ending words; according to the Theravāda tradition or the Buddha’s own words. When the three scriptures composed by the Venerable Buddhaghosa were thus accomplished, the devas uttered a resounding cry of praise, and the thousands of monks in the Mahāvihāra monastery gathered and witnessed this wondrous event. Their hearts were filled with joyful gladness, and they let out a thunderous cry of praise, saying, “This person is truly the Metteyya Bodhisatta himself, descended to enlighten sentient beings without a doubt.”
At that moment, King Mahānāma, the great king of Laṅkā, having heard the sounds of this marvel, departed from the royal palace with magnificent royal splendor, surrounded by a retinue of royal attendants. The king entered the Mahāvihāra monastery, paid homage to the community of monks, and then paid homage to the Venerable Buddhaghosa, saying, “May your reverence accept almsfood in my residence until the translation of the Dhamma is complete. Do not worry about anything.” The Venerable Buddhaghosa accepted the invitation by remaining silent.
At that time, the community of monks handed over the scriptures of the Tipiṭaka in the Pāli language, along with the commentary scriptures in the Sinhala language, to the Venerable Buddhaghosa. The Venerable Buddhaghosa accepted all the scriptures and took them to reside in a building named Padhānaghara,[11] in the southern part of the Mahāvihāra monastery, to translate the commentaries from the Sinhala language into the Magadhan language, which is the root language.
In truth, the Sinhala commentaries are of three types: the Mahā Aṭṭhakathā, the Paccari Aṭṭhakathā, and the Kurundī Aṭṭhakathā.
The commentary that the Great Elder Mahinda brought to be established as the Great Recital and then rendered into the Sinhala language is called the Mahā Aṭṭhakathā. In the Sinhala language, this tradition is called “Paccariya.” The commentary that the commentary writers composed while residing on a raft is called the Paccari Aṭṭhakathā. There was a monastery named Kurundīveḷuvihāra; the commentary that the commentary writers composed while residing in that monastery is called the Kurundī Aṭṭhakathā. The doctrines of these teachers, which were in agreement with the earlier council elders, took the essence of the Buddha’s words; this is called the Theravāda.
First, the Venerable Buddhaghosa translated the Kurundī Aṭṭhakathā from the Sinhala language, creating the Vinaya commentary named Samantapāsādikā in the Magadhan language, which is the root language. After that, he translated the Mahā Aṭṭhakathā of the Suttanta Piṭaka from the Sinhala language, compiling the commentary of the Dīgha Nikāya named Sumaṅgalavilāsinī, compiling the commentary of the Majjhima Nikāya named Papañcasūdanī, compiling the commentary of the Saṃyutta Nikāya named Sāratthappakāsinī, and compiling the commentary of the Aṅguttara Nikāya named Manorathapūraṇī. After that, he translated the Paccari Aṭṭhakathā of the Abhidhamma Piṭaka from the Sinhala language, compiling the commentary of the Dhammasaṅgaṇīppakaraṇa named Atthasālinī, compiling the commentary of the Vibhaṅgappakaraṇa named Sammohavinodanī, and compiling the commentary of the Pañcappakaraṇa (the last five books of the Abhidhamma) named Paramatthadīpanī. The Venerable Buddhaghosa thus rendered all the commentaries of the Tipiṭaka that were in the Sinhala language into the Magadhan language, which is the root language. The commentaries of the Tipiṭaka that the Venerable Buddhaghosa composed were completed within a period of one year.
At the time the Venerable Buddhaghosa finished translating the commentaries of the Tipiṭaka, a wondrous event occurred: the great earth shook, trembled, and quaked. A sound like a resounding cheer of approval echoed throughout the entire universe.
The Venerable Buddhaghosa, having completed the translation of the commentaries of the Tipiṭaka, at this time, he purified and refined the Dhamma and Vinaya to be perfectly correct throughout, organizing it as the Third Council in Laṅkā, or as the Sixth Council counting from the first council in Jambudvīpa.
When the Venerable Buddhaghosa had finished translating the commentary scriptures, he prostrated himself to take leave of the venerable Elder Saṅghapāla, the Mahāsaṅgharāja, and the community of monks. He took leave of King Mahānāma, the lord of the land of Laṅkā, along with his royal retinue and all those from whom he should take leave. He then brought the scriptures down to the ship to return to Jambudvīpa. At that time, the Buddhist followers of Laṅkā, led by King Mahānāma and the Elder Saṅghapāla, accompanied him down to the ship, speaking many sweet, pleasant, and memorable words. The Venerable Buddhaghosa was filled with joy in his heart. He then offered a verse named Aṅguttarasatamangala[12] to the king, saying:
“Your Majesty, I am exceedingly joyful for the hospitality of Your Majesty and the entire Saṅgha. At the end of my journey here, I have no object to offer as a keepsake, only this stanza of praise for the two feet of the All-Knowing Buddha, our master. May Your Majesty recite this chant frequently, and you will surely attain a good destiny in heaven as your future existence.” Then the ship’s captain gave the order to set sail, taking the Venerable Buddhaghosa back to Jambudvīpa. The Venerable Buddhaghosa went up to pay homage and present the scriptures to the Great Elder, his preceptor. He received blessings, praise, and many commendations from his preceptor. His fame spread throughout the world, establishing him as the preeminent scholar in the Southern school of Buddhism. This led chroniclers and scholars in various countries to be unable to resist composing many kinds of stories in praise of the Venerable Buddhaghosa.[13]
The story of the Venerable Buddhaghosa’s life has many different versions, which has led viewers to have many different opinions. Some who are full of faith believe that all the stories about the Venerable Buddhaghosa are true. Some who lack faith do not believe they are true because the stories praise the Venerable Buddhaghosa excessively, seeing him as being capable beyond the limits of ordinary humans that they have seen with their own eyes.
Some, who have faith combined with wisdom, believe that the story is mostly true, but that there is some exaggeration beyond what is plausible, as has been stated above, which gives the impression that “the Venerable Buddhaghosa translated the commentaries of the Tipiṭaka all by himself, and this completed work in the span of one year is called the ‘Third Council in Laṅkā’.” This statement does not fit together from beginning to end, because the tradition of holding councils, from the First Council, the Second Council, and the Third Council in Jambudvīpa, which the arahants, led by the Great Elder Mahākassapa, established, always involved gathering many hundreds of arahants each time a council was held. So what is so different about this council of the Venerable Buddhaghosa, who was still an ordinary person, that he worked all alone?
The conclusion is that the Venerable Buddhaghosa was a preeminent scholar, truly possessing meritorious power beyond that of ordinary humans, but at the time of this work, he surely gathered many learned people of the Sinhala nation to work together. Therefore, this work could be considered a council. There is another piece of evidence that suggests that this work was a collective effort of many scholars: it is observed that the commentary scriptures attributed to the Venerable Buddhaghosa are different from one another in their style of language and in their tone in many places. Some places have a style of language that is beautifully clear, pointing out major reasons, which leads one to conclude that this is indeed the work of the Venerable Buddhaghosa. Other places have dull content and do not clearly point out the reasons, which leads one to conclude that this is not the work of the Venerable Buddhaghosa at all. Or perhaps the Venerable Buddhaghosa did work all by himself. When he was feeling well in mind and his wisdom was sharp, his work was good. When he was not feeling well and his wisdom was a bit dull, he worked carelessly just to get it done. Is that how it was? But if so, this work cannot be called a council.
The story of Buddhaghosa ends here.
In the book Syāmūpasampadāvagga, it is stated that from the time the Venerable Buddhaghosa went to hold the council in the year 956 B.E. during the reign of King Mahānāma, there were Great Elders who composed scriptures in the Buddhist tradition in a similar manner, with 27 of them named as follows:
- Ven. Buddhadatta
- Ven. Dhammapāla
- Ven. Jotipāla
- Ven. Khema
- Ven. Dhammasiri
- Ven. Nanda
- Ven. Ānanda
- Ven. Anuruddha
- Ven. Upatassa
- Ven. Buddharakkhita
- Ven. Moggallāna
- Ven. Sāriputta[14]
- Ven. Saṅgharakkhita
- Ven. Sumaṅgala
- Ven. Vaṅgīsa
- Ven. Dhammakitti
- Ven. Nāgasena
- Ven. Ānanda
- Ven. Videha
- Ven. Buddhaviriya
- Ven. Anomadassī
- Ven. Colakassapatthera
- Ven. Sahitavigamūla
- Ven. Anuruddha
- Ven. Dīpaṅkara
- Ven. Māyārupada
- Ven. Dhammasena
Besides these, there were lay scholars who worked together, nine more of them, namely:
- Sandarapada
- Dhammakittipada
- Dhīranāgapāla
- Rājamudārī
- Gavirājasekhara
- Purugulukemi
- Āgamacakkavatti
- Parakkamapaṇḍita
- Āgarapaṇḍita
The monks and lay scholars whose names are mentioned in the book Vassāmhūpasampadāvagga are not specified as to which person composed which scripture, or at what time. However, if that is the case, some might still think that “perhaps these learned individuals were the ones who held the council together with the Venerable Buddhaghosa.” I do not agree with this speculation.
[1] According to the Visamālinī, when this child was born from the womb, the Brahmin’s entire household, including servants and workers, shouted cries of joy to one another. For this reason, the people named the child “Ghosa.” Another source says the boy was named “Ghosa” because he was born in a village named Ghosagāma. Yet another says the boy’s name was “Dhammaghosa.”
[2] The Three Vedas refer to three kinds of knowledge, sciences, or scriptures that explain various aspects of the Brahminical religion. In the early period, there were only three: 1- The Rigveda or Iruveda, composed in verse for chanting praises to the gods. 2- The Yajurveda or Yujjaveda, composed in mixed prose for chanting at sacrifices or making supplications. 3- The Sāmaveda, composed in verse for chanting during the Soma offering ceremony. These three Vedas all use the Sanskrit language and are called the “Vedatraya” or “Traivedya.” The Brahmins hold a firm belief that Mahābrahmā created them. Later, the “Atharvaveda” or “Athabbaveda” was added for chanting to invoke or banish ghosts and demons, making it the fourth Veda.
[3] A section near the end here is not something to be overly analyzed, as it is easy to understand that the young man Ghosa mastering the Three Vedas was not done by the age of 7, and the time he was ordained and received higher ordination can be understood as being after the age of 20.
[4] This phrase suggests that “the Paritta or Bhāṇavāra was compiled by chroniclers before 956 B.E.” The Venerable Buddhaghosa’s intention in this matter was likely not fulfilled, as we see instead the name of the Elder Anomadassī as the compiler of the Bhāṇavāra commentary. This Elder Anomadassī is mentioned in the book “The Establishment of the Syāmavaṃsa Saṅgha in Laṅkā” by the committee of H.R.H. Prince Damrong Rajanubhab as one of 27 commentary writers in Laṅkā.
[5] This is not the Venerable Sāriputta, the General of the Dhamma, but a Venerable Sāriputta in Laṅkā who was part of the group of Saṅgītikācāriya (Council Elders) who held the Fourth Council in 433 B.E. After the time of the Venerable Buddhaghosa (956 B.E.), there was another commentary writer named Sāriputta. This elder is praised in the book “Syāmūpasampadāvagga” as having a very sharp intelligence; if he heard a phrase just once, he could remember up to 1,000 verses.
[6] Regarding this point, if it is true, it is quite amazing. If one thinks along the lines of the Dhamma, one can understand that such skill arises from the power of merit and the power of learning. If one thinks along worldly lines, one can understand that such skill arises from the power of learning. That is, the Venerable Buddhaghosa was a person whom the French would call a Stenographe, knowing a skill called “Stenographie,” the art of writing signs, which is the skill of writing as fast as speech by using symbols. However, if the Venerable Buddhaghosa transcribed the entire quarrel of the people in full, he was not using Stenographie. He certainly had a skill that religious belief calls “the fruition of kamma,” a knowledge or ability that is the result of past meritorious deeds.
[7] This first wisdom is called sahajātapaññā.
[8] This second wisdom is called vipassanāpaññā.
[9] This third wisdom is called pārihārikapaññā.
[10] This Visuddhimagga scripture is popularly used by adherents of the Southern school of Buddhism up to the present day. It has been published in a volume of over 840 densely printed pages.
[11] In the story of the Buddhaghosanidāna and the Suttajātaka scriptures, it is said that the Elder Saṅghapāla gave the Lohapāsāda (Brazen Palace) as a place for the Venerable Buddhaghosa to work. This Padhānaghara was a high-level school where the Elder Saṅghapāla himself taught his students. It is concluded that this Padhānaghara was likely a school complex with many buildings, and one building within the Padhānaghara complex was named Lohapāsāda. The history of this Lohapāsāda is detailed in the Mahāvaṃsa scripture.
[12] A Dhamma praise of the king with the Pāli text, “Yassa pāde sujātāni, dve cakkāni mahesino, nānākāravaṇṇā puṇṇāni, taṃ vande parisuttamaṃ,” etc., which our country’s Saṅgha often recites during the Phchum Ben season.
[13] The Mahāvaṃsa, the chronicle of Laṅkā; the Buddhaghosanidāna; the Visamālinī; the Ñāṇodaya; the Suttajātaknidānānisaṅsa; the Buddhaghosappavattikathā; the Syāmūpasampadāvagga; the story of the establishment of the Syāmavaṃsa Saṅgha in Laṅkā, etc. These stories exist in Pāli, in Siamese, and in Khmer translated from Pāli. There are also Siamese versions with judgments and conclusions. In the Buddhaghosanidāna, there is a passage that says the Venerable Buddhaghosa was the chief disciple of the future Buddha Ariya Metteyya. However, I have diligently searched for the origin of this statement, to see if it was a prophecy of some arahant, but I have not found it. In the story of the Buddhaghosappavattikathā, it says that the Venerable Buddhaghosa lived happily until the end of his life and was reborn in the Tusita heaven.
[14] (Regarding this Ven. Sāriputta, it is written that he had an exceptionally excellent memory. If he heard any phrase, even just once, he could remember up to 1000 verses).