Bāla Vagga — The Chapter on the Fool

Verse 60

This verse was spoken to King Pasenadi of Kosala and to a certain man, to show how time and distance appear long or short according to the state of mind of the one who experiences them.

For one who cannot sleep, a single night feels as though it will never end; for a traveller worn out with fatigue, even a single league is far, far away. Just so, the fool — the one who lacks wisdom, who does not know the good of this world and the next, and who does not realize the true Dhamma (saddhamma) such as the factors of enlightenment (bodhipakkhiya-dhamma) and the Four Noble Truths — must wander on within the round of rebirth (saṃsāra), the endlessly long cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death, repeated again and again without conclusion.

The reflection is this: prolonged suffering does not come from external causes alone, but from a mind that has not yet found the way out. Diligent study and practice of the Dhamma is therefore the way to shorten the round of rebirth.

Verse 61

This verse was spoken to a monk living in the city of Rājagaha, concerning the pupil of the Elder Mahā Kassapa, on the matter of choosing whom to befriend.

The Buddha taught that if one cannot find a friend who is better than oneself or one's equal, then one should hold firmly to living alone, which is better than keeping company with a fool — for in a fool no genuine companionship can be found. A true friend on the path of Dhamma is one who leads us toward virtue (sīla), concentration (samādhi), and wisdom (paññā); the fool, by contrast, only drags one down.

The reflection is this: dwelling alone with mindfulness is safer than having a friend who tempts one to ruin. To be able to choose good company is good; but if one cannot, dwelling by oneself, steadfast in the Dhamma, is surely more excellent.

Verse 62

This verse was spoken to a wealthy man named Ānanda's son, the millionaire Mūlasiri, concerning attachment to wealth and children.

The fool often torments himself with possessive worry, thinking, "I have children, I have wealth." But in truth, even the self is not one's own, for the aggregates (khandha) are not truly ours; when death arrives, one can carry nothing away. Since one cannot even claim ownership of oneself, from where then could children and wealth ever be one's own?

The reflection is this: do not let attachment to things that must inevitably be parted from burn up the heart. Learn to use wealth and to care for children with loving-kindness and wisdom, without deludedly grasping them as ours forever — then the heart will grow light and at ease.

Verse 63

This verse was spoken concerning pickpockets and various people, on the difference between one who knows himself and one who is deluded about himself.

The Buddha pointed out that a fool who knows himself to be a fool may still be counted, to some degree, as a wise one, for such self-awareness opens the way for him to be willing to learn and to correct himself. But a fool who imagines himself to be wise shuts himself off from new knowledge — he indeed is the true fool, for self-delusion means he can never develop. Moreover, keeping the company of a true wise person brings manifold virtues, from moral conduct all the way to higher knowledge (vijjā) and the higher powers (abhiññā).

The reflection is this: the humility to admit that one does not yet know is the gateway to wisdom; while the pride of pretended knowing is the wall that confines one in darkness.

Verse 64

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning the Elder Udāyī, who lived close to the elders yet did not absorb the Dhamma.

The Buddha gave this comparison: a fool, though he attend upon a wise person for his whole life, cannot come to know the Dhamma — just as a ladle, though it stirs the soup in the pot every day, never knows the taste of the soup. For he has not taken it to heart nor reflected upon it. Physical closeness helps nothing if the heart is not open to receive and one does not put it into practice.

The reflection is this: dwelling near teachers, or hearing much Dhamma, is no guarantee of gaining wisdom. What matters is attentive listening, careful reflection, and applying it to oneself — otherwise one remains merely a ladle that has never tasted the soup.

Verse 65

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning the monks from the town of Pāṭheyya who understood the Dhamma quickly, paired as a contrast with the preceding verse.

Unlike the ladle, the discerning one (viññū) — one endowed with wisdom — though he attend upon a wise person for only a moment, swiftly comes to know the Dhamma, just as the tongue that merely touches food knows its taste at once. For his mind is ready, wisdom is his capital, and he sets himself to receive it attentively. Whether one reaches the Dhamma quickly or slowly thus depends on the quality of the heart, not on the length of time.

The reflection is this: keep cultivating the heart so that it is ready with faith and eagerness to learn. When the chance to draw near to a good friend (kalyāṇamitta) comes, even for but a moment, it may become a turning point in one's life.

Verse 66

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning the man Suppabuddha, who was afflicted with leprosy.

The Buddha pointed out that a fool of poor wit makes himself into his own enemy by going about committing evil deeds (pāpa-kamma) whose bitter fruit will turn back and burn him. An external enemy can harm one only in this present life, but the evil deeds one commits will follow to give their results across lives and existences — a peril far worse than any foe.

The reflection is this: before doing anything, one should consider whether its result will turn back to harm oneself. To refrain from evil is thus to protect oneself from the worst of enemies — namely one's own evil deeds.

Verse 67

This verse was spoken to a certain farmer, concerning a deed that brought distress to its doer afterward.

The Buddha laid down this measure of judgment: any deed which, once done, must afterward be regretted, over whose result one weeps with a tear-stained face — that deed is called a bad deed. For this indicates that the act was contrary to the Dhamma, and so gives its result as suffering and remorseful regret.

The reflection is this: before deciding to do anything, ask your heart, "Will I later regret this?" If the answer is yes, then one should stop — for a good deed leaves no trace of tears behind it.

Verse 68

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning a garland-maker named Sumana, paired as a contrast with the preceding verse on the side of good deeds.

Opposite to the bad deed: any deed which, once done, need not afterward be regretted, but rather leaves one full and joyful and glad while experiencing its result — that deed is called a good deed. For an act grounded in the wholesome gives its result as happiness and delight, both while doing it and when its fruit appears.

The reflection is this: the ease of heart that follows afterward is the confirmation that we are walking the right path. Choose to do what leaves you proud and able to recall it with a smile — that is truly to accumulate happiness for oneself.

Verse 69

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning the Elder Nun Uppalavaṇṇā, on evil that has not yet borne fruit.

The Buddha warned that so long as an evil deed has not yet ripened, the fool imagines it to be as sweet as honey — that is, he sees the unwholesome he does as desirable, alluring, and pleasing, sweet as honey. But when the evil at last matures and bears fruit, then he meets with the most grievous suffering; the sweetness of the beginning turns into bitterness at the end.

The reflection is this: do not judge the worth of a deed by the momentary pleasure received. What seems fragrant and sweet today may conceal a bitter fruit for tomorrow. One should look far ahead to the result that will follow, and only then choose to act.

Verse 70

This verse was spoken to the great throng of people of the countries of Aṅga and Magadha, concerning the naked ascetic Jambuka, who practised austerities strictly but was without wisdom.

The Buddha pointed out that though a fool torment himself by eating only with the tip of a blade of kusa grass month after month — performing the most extreme austerities — he does not thereby gain even a sixteenth part of the fruit attained by those who have realized the Dhamma (saṅkhāta-dhamma), namely the noble ones from the stream-enterer (sotāpanna) upward, who reach the Dhamma through wisdom.

The reflection is this: self-tormenting practice devoid of wisdom does not lead to liberation. What matters is not the severity of outward observance, but the cultivation of the wisdom that truly realizes the Dhamma and leads the heart beyond suffering.

Verse 71

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning a hungry ghost (peta) shaped like a snake, on evil that gives its result slowly.

The Buddha gave this comparison: an evil deed once done does not give its result at once, just as milk freshly drawn today does not curdle immediately. But that evil will slowly follow and burn the fool in silence, like fire covered over with ashes — outwardly it seems extinguished, yet it still smoulders within and is ready to blaze up. The slowness of a deed's result is therefore no escape.

The reflection is this: do not be heedless just because you see no result yet from an evil done. The fruit of the deed merely awaits the time of ripening. To hasten to abandon evil and to accumulate goodness is thus the only way not to live in dread of the fire beneath the ashes.

Verse 72

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning a hungry ghost whose head was struck with a hammer, on knowledge that becomes a bane to the fool.

The Buddha pointed out that knowledge — which here includes learning, rank, and renown — when it arises in a fool comes about only to his harm, for he puts it to wrong use. That knowledge therefore destroys his good qualities and casts down his wisdom instead of raising it higher; the more he knows, the more deluded and self-conceited he becomes and the more he oppresses others.

The reflection is this: knowledge and ability are merely tools; whether they prove a blessing or a bane depends upon the one who wields them. Without moral conduct and wisdom to govern it, knowledge becomes a sword that can wound both oneself and others.

Verse 73

This verse was spoken to the Elder Sudhamma, concerning a monk's craving for gain, rank, and honour beyond his due.

The Buddha pointed out the fault of the foolish monk who desires what he does not truly possess: he desires recognition — though lacking faith and lacking virtue, he still wants people to praise him as having them; he desires that the monks should surround him; he desires supremacy in the monasteries; and he desires offerings from the households of laypeople. All these cravings arise from a mind bent on gain and honour, not upon the Dhamma.

The reflection is this: one who practises the Dhamma should guard against the craving for prominence and fame, for once the heart clings to acceptance from outside, it drifts far from the inner peace that is the true goal.

Verse 74

This verse was spoken to the Elder Sudhamma, continuing from the previous verse, on the envy and conceit of the foolish monk.

The Buddha pointed out that the foolish monk often conceives the thought, "Let both laypeople and those gone forth understand that I alone have done this deed, that I alone should hold authority over every matter, great and small." Through such a conception, envy — namely the craving that arises at the six sense-doors — and conceit (māna) — measuring oneself as superior, equal, or inferior to others — grow ever thicker and more entrenched.

The reflection is this: the craving to monopolize all importance for oneself alone is the wellspring of the envy and conceit that gnaw at the heart. One should train the heart to rejoice when others prosper, and learn humility — only then can one escape the fire of comparison.

Verse 75

This verse was spoken to the monks, concerning the Elder Sudhamma, summing up the lesson on gain and honour versus the way beyond suffering.

The Buddha distinguished clearly that the practice which is the cause of worldly gain is one thing, while the practice that leads to Nibbāna is another — the two go in different directions. When a monk who is a disciple of the Buddha understands this clearly, he should take no delight in gain and honour, but should foster seclusion (viveka) — the calm and solitude of body, mind, and freedom from defilements — unceasingly.

The reflection is this: the path that brings renown and the path that leads to liberation run in opposite directions. One who aims at true peace must therefore dare to let go of delight in praise, and turn instead to cultivating inner seclusion — the straight road to the end of suffering.