dinary one," "My rank is not high," "There are no misleading statements in my curriculum vitae." And then, when the Hotel people come and ask us for further entries for the visitor's book, and say "Where is your home?", we can answer with true pride that we are even now "burghers of the City of Light." That, brethren, is the only thing that we have to be proud about.
2. It is written in the Scriptures, and it is something about which we may rejoice, that by virtue of our Tathāgata's Vow we, ordinary folk who are neither great Saints nor yet great Scholars, may even in this life, and without putting off our bodies of flesh, have our pleasure in Paradise. This is the peculiar privilege of those who are citizens of the Pure Land, and the sons of the Tathāgata.
VI.
1. But the people of the Inn will not understand us when we say that we are citizens of the City of Light, and, will probably slight us,
