monastery, and sat down on a seat spread out in the open air. And the venerable Ānanda, accompanied by many other disciples, approached where the Blessed One was, saluted him, and taking a seat respectfully on one side, said: "I have beheld, Lord, how the Blessed One was in health, and I have beheld how the Blessed One had to suffer. And though at the sight of the sickness of the Blessed One my body became weak as a creeper, and the horizon became dim to me, and my faculties were no longer clear, yet notwithstanding I took some little comfort from the thought that the Blessed One would not pass away from existence until at least he had left instructions as touching the order."5
And the Blessed One addressed Ānanda in behalf of the order, saying:6
"What, then, Ānanda, does the order expect of me? I have preached the truth without making any distinction between exoteric and esoteric doctrine; for in respect of the truth, Ānanda, the Tathāgata has no such thing as the closed fist of a teacher, who keeps some things back.7
"Surely, Ānanda, should there be any one who harbors the thought, 'It is I who will lead the brotherhood,' or, 'The order is dependent upon me,' he should lay down instructions, in any matter concerning the order. Now the Tathāgata, Ānanda, thinks not that it is he who should lead the brotherhood, or that the order is dependent upon him.8
"Why, then, should the Tathāgata leave instructions in any matter concerning the order?9
"I am now grown old, O Ānanda, and full of years; my journey is drawing to its close, I have reached the sum of my days, I am turning eighty years of age.10
"Just as a worn-out cart can not be made to move along without much difficulty, so the body of the Tathāgata can only be kept going with much additional care.11
"It is only, Ānanda, when the Tathāgata, ceasing to
