Abhaya Rājakumāra Sutta in Brief

The six kinds of speech are featured in Majjhima Nikāya, 1. Gahapati vagga, 8: Abhaya Rājakumāra Sutta; a brief account follows:

At one time, the Buddha was staying in Veḷuvana monastery at Rājagaha. During that time, Prince Abhaya, son of King Bimbisāra approached his teacher, Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta, and, making obeisance to him and sat in a suitable place.

Then Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta said to Prince Abhaya:

“Go, Prince, to Samaṇa Gotama and accuse Him with falsity in doctrine. If you can accuse Him you will gain wide fame as one who can accuse even Samaṇa Gotama with falsity in doctrine.”

“But, Venerable Sir,” said Prince Abhaya, “how am I to accuse Samaṇa Gotama, who is so powerful, of falsity in doctrine?”

(1) “Prince, go to Samana Gotama and say this: ‘Venerable Sir, would you say something that is unacceptable or unwelcome to someone?’ And if Samana Gotama were to reply: ‘Prince, the Tathāgata would say something that is unacceptable or unwelcome to someone.’ In that case, you should say to Samana Gotama: ‘Venerable Sir, if that is so, what is the difference between the Venerable One and any other worldling? For any worldling would say something unacceptable or unwelcome to someone.’

(2) “If, on the other hand, Samana Gotama replies: ‘Prince, the Tathāgata would not say something that is unacceptable or unwelcome to someone.’ In that case, you should say to Samaṇa Gotama: ‘Venerable Sir, if that is so, why did the Venerable One said to Devadatta: ‘You, Devadatta who is heading for the niraya realms, Devadatta who is going to suffer in the niraya realm throughout an aeon, Devadatta who is irredeemable?’ If I may add, the Venerable Devadatta is very angry and miserable at those remarks.'

“Prince, if you only confront Samaṇa Gotama with the above questions, which allows no escape for Him, that Samaṇa Gotama will be just helpless, like a man who has swallowed a fish-hook.”

(It took Nigantha Nāṭaputta four months to think out the above questions with which to harass the Buddha. Then he taught it to his disciple, Prince Abhaya. Before the advent of the Buddha there were six religious teachers who led their own sects, claiming themselves as Buddhas. People could not discriminate truth from untruth and went, (each after his or her liking) to these teachers. Only when the Buddha appeared in the world, these adherents, who possessed previous merit, left them in large numbers and became disciples of the Buddha.

Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta was sore with the thought that Samaṇa Gotama had won over his followers. He thought hard how to discredit the Buddha: “I must find a question to confront Samaṇa Gotama, a question so neat that Samaṇa Gotama would be caught helplessly.” He fed himself well on the offerings of daily food sent to him from his royal disciple, Prince Abhaya and spent days thinking of a problem that would confound Samaṇa Gotama. When a question came to his thought, he turned it over in his mind and found a flaw which the Buddha would easily point out. And, when he thought of another question, he would later detect a flaw there, and had to drop it. And thus he spent four hard months in thinking out a ‘really hard nut to crack.’ At last, he got the question: “Would the Buddha speak something that would be unacceptable or unwelcome to someone?”

Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta was sure that he had found a question which Samaṇa Gotama would be quite at a loss to find fault, either in its presentation or in its answer. He then thought about some suitable agent who would confront the Buddha. He remembered Prince Abhaya whom he believed was wise. So, he taught the question to the Prince and persuaded him to go and present it to the Buddha.)

Prince Abhaya was a censorious person and so gladly undertook to do what his master asked. “Very well, Master,” he said, and after making obeisance to Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta, left him. He went to the Veḷuvana monastery where the Buddha was staying, and after making obeisance to the Buddha, he sat in a suitable place. Then he looked at the sun which was about to set. He thought: “It took four months for my teacher to formulate this question. If such a profound question were to be taken up point by point, there would be no sufficient time for today. I will confront the Buddha tomorrow at my palace,” he thought to himself. So he said to the Buddha: “Venerable Sir, may the Venerable One, for the sake of my merit, kindly accept offering of food to the Venerable One and three bhikkhus (at my palace) tomorrow.”

(The number of three bhikkhus only being invited by Prince Abhaya is based on two considerations: (1) If a big company of bhikkhus were present on the occasion of his putting the question, even though the question itself is in a few words only, there might be wide discussions by the company and other matters and other discourses might arise, in which case controversy and heated debates might occur. (2) If no bhikkhus were invited to accompany the Buddha, people might think: “This Prince Abhaya is a stingy man. He knows the Bhagavā goes on the daily alms-round accompanied by hundreds of bhikkhus, and yet he invites only the Bhagavā.”)

The Buddha accepted the invitation of Prince Abhaya by remaining silent. Prince Abhaya, having noted that his invitation was accepted, rose from his seat and, making obeisance to the Buddha, returned to his palace.

In the next morning, the Buddha went to the palace of Prince Abhaya and took His meal there. After the meal was finished Prince Abhaya took his seat at a lower place and addressed the Buddha as taught by Nigaṇṭha Nāṭaputta thus:

“Venerable Sir, would the Venerable One say something that is unacceptable or unwelcome to someone?” The Buddha said to Prince Abhaya: “Prince Abhaya, regarding your question, no single answer can be given in a straight ‘yes’ or ‘no’. (The Buddha, in effect, said: “A speech of this nature as described by you, may or may not be spoken by the Tathāgata. If by saying it, there is benefit (to the other party), the Tathāgata would say it. If there is no benefit the Tathāgata would not say it.”)

By this single statement the Buddha crushed the question like a mountain shattered by a thunder bolt, thus disposing of the weighty question which took four months for Nigantha Nāṭaputta to formulate.

Thereupon Prince Abhaya could no longer challenge the Buddha and said to Him: “Venerable Sir, by this question all Nigaṇṭha have gone to wreck and ruin!” “Prince, why do you say: ‘Venerable Sir, by this question all Nigaṇṭha have gone to wreck and ruin?’ ” Prince Abhaya then recounted the whole episode about his visit to Nigantha Nāṭaputta and the mission he was assigned by his master.

At that time, Prince Abhaya had on his lap his infant child who could only lie flat on its back. (The Prince placed the baby there on purpose. Wherever dogmatic persons enter into a debate on a matter of doctrine they used to keep something handy with them, such as a fruit or a flower or a book. As the debate proceeds, and if one of the disputants is gaining his points, he would trounce the opponent relentlessly. But if the going is tougher than is expected and defeat is likely, he would pretend to be smelling the flower, or tasting the fruit, or reading the book that is in his hand, as if he was not following the trend of the arguments. Here, Prince Abhaya placed the infant on his lap for the same purpose. He thought to himself: “Samaṇa Gotama is a great man who has won many a debate on doctrine. He is the one who quashes others’ doctrines. If I were to win, it is well and good. But if I should be cornered, I would pinch the baby and announce: ‘O friends, how the baby cries! Let us break the debate now and continue later.’ ”

The Buddha, being infinitely wiser than Prince Abhaya, chose to make the infant itself to trounce the prince. And even before Prince Abhaya could find time to pinch the baby, the Buddha asked Prince Abhaya thus: “Prince Abhaya, what do you think of this? You may answer whatever you think fit. Suppose this infant on your lap, either due to your negligence or to the negligence of its nurse, were to put a piece of wood or a potsherd or a broken piece of glass bottle, in its mouth, what would you do to it (the infant)?”

And Prince Abhaya answered: “Venerable Sir, I would take out the piece of wood or potsherd or broken glass from the baby quickly. If there should be difficulty in taking it out at the first attempt, then I would hold the baby’s head fast with my left hand, and, with the bent forefinger of my right hand, I would dislodge the piece of wood or potsherd or broken glass from its mouth even if that operation might draw blood. I would do it because I have great love and compassion on my baby.”

“Prince Abhaya, on the same analogy, there are these six kinds of speech:

(1) The Tathāgata does not speak that kind of speech which is not true, which is not beneficial and which is unacceptable to the other party.

(2) The Tathāgata does not speak that kind of speech which is true but is not beneficial and which is unacceptable to the other party.

(3) The Tathāgata would, if occasion demands, speak that kind of speech which is true, which is beneficial but which is unwelcome by the other party.

(4) The Tathāgata does not speak that kind of speech which is not true, which is not beneficial, but which is welcome by the other party.

(5) The Tathāgata does not speak that kind of speech which is true, which is not beneficial but which is welcome by the other party.

(6) The Tathāgata would, if he sees benefit to the hearers, speak that kind of speech which is true, which is beneficial, and which is welcome by the other party.

“Prince Abhaya, out of these six kinds of speech, the Tathāgata avoids four of them and speaks two of them. This is because I have great good will and compassion on all beings."

(The gist is that the Buddha speaks what is beneficial and true regardless of whether the other party likes it or not.)

(The Commentary terms the fourth kind of speech above as Aṭṭhānīya kathā, an absurdity, i.e. a speech that is not true, and not beneficial, but is liked by the other party, and illustrates it with the story of a rustic old man. It is related below for general knowledge.)

The Story of A Rustic Old Man

A rustic old man was drinking in a liquor shop in town. A group of swindlers joined him and conspired between themselves to divest the old man of his possessions by trickery. They agreed among themselves: “We shall relate our experiences each in turn. Anyone who says he does not believe it will lose all his possessions to the story-teller and also become his slave.” And they said to the old man: “Grand uncle, do you agree to this proposition?” The old man replied: “So be it boys, so be it.”

Then the first town dweller at the drinking party related his story thus:

“Friends, when my mother conceived me, she had a particular longing to eat the wood apple. And as she had no one to pick the fruit for her she sent me to pick a wood apple. Then, I, who was in my mother’s womb, went to a wood apple tree. As I could not climb up the tree, I took hold of my two legs and threw them upwards into the tree as I would a wooden club. Then I went from one bough to the other and picked the wood apples. After that I found myself unable to climb down the tree and so I went back home, took a ladder and used it to get down. I gave the fruit, to my mother. They were of a size as big as a water pot.

All the wood apples were carried down the tree in my pouch fashioned from the loin cloth I was wearing. Out of my gathering of wood apples my mother ate sixty of them at one sitting till she satisfied herself with the special longing during conception. The remainder of the fruit, after my mother had eaten, were for distribution to all the villagers, both young and old. The front room (living room) of our house is sixteen cubits wide, we stored the wood apples in it after removing all furniture from there. The fruit filled the room to the roof. The surplus fruit had to be piled up outside the house and it was as high as a hillock of eighty cubits high. Now, friends, what do you say? Do you believe the story or not?”

The rustic old man remained silent. The town folks at the drinking party answered (in the positive). Then they asked the old man: “Do you believe the story?” The old man replied: “Well, this is a vast country. It is believable in this vast country.”

The remaining men at the drinking party told their tall stories in turn. And then it was the old man’s turn. “Now listen to my story,” he said. “Not only are the houses in your town big and grand, houses in our village are also big and grand. I want you to note that our family specializes in cotton plantation. We have hundreds of acres under cotton crib. Amidst the vast cotton plantation, we had a particularly big cotton plant that grew to a height of eighty cubits. There were five branches in it. Of those five the four were fruitless, but the fifth one turning to the east bore a huge cotton pod as big as a water jar. From that pod with six compartments there bloomed forth six blossoms of cotton flower.

“I shaved myself, bathed, and after applying unguent to my body, I went to the cotton field and when I saw the six big cotton blossoms from the same pod I was very pleased. I reached out to them and plucked them. Then lo and behold! In place of these six cotton blossoms there were in my hands six strong slave men. These six slave men of mine left me and ran away to other places. I have not seen them for a long time. Now only, I have found them. They are none other than the six of you. You, my boy, is Nanda my slave. And you are Poṇṇa my slave. And you are Vaḍḍhamāna my slave. And you are Citta my slave. And you are Maṅgala my slave. And you are Poṭṭhinya my slave.” Then the old men rose up suddenly and stood holding the six knots of the six men firmly in his hand.

The six town dwellers who were at the drinking party could not deny that the story was not true, for if they did, they would, under the terms of agreement, become slaves to the old man, all the same. The old man then took the six men to the court where they were officially branded as slaves and they remained so for as long as the old man lived.

This sort of nonsensical speech may be amusing but it is not true and is not beneficial. This kind of speech is never spoken by the Buddha.

Then Prince Abhaya said to the Buddha: “Venerable Sir, when wise princes, wise brahmins, wise householders and wise bhikkhus come to you with their various questions, do you have thought out beforehand and answers to fit their possible questions? Or do the answers come to mind instantly?”

The Buddha said to the Prince: “Prince Abhaya, in that case, I will put a question to you. You may answer it in any way you like. Now, what do you think of this? You are an expert in chariots, are you not?”

“That is true, Venerable Sir, I am an expert about the chariot and its various components.”

“Prince, what do you think of this? If anybody should ask you: ‘What is this part of the chariot called?’ Would you have the answer thought out beforehand, or would you answer it straight away instantly?”

“Venerable Sir, I am reputed as an expert about chariots. I am skilful about all the components of a chariot. All the components of the chariot are clear in my mind. Therefore any question concerning a chariot is at my finger tips.”

“Prince, in much the same way, when wise princes, wise brahmins, wise householders, and wise bhikkhus come to me with their various questions, the answer comes to My mind instantly. This is because the Tathāgata is possessed of the dhamma-dhātu, which is Omniscience, the penetrating knowledge about all things knowable.”

When this was said in a wonderfully amiable manner, Prince Abhaya was deeply impressed. He begged of the Buddha to be his refuge, the Dhamma to be his refuge, the Sangha to be his refuge, and became a disciple of the Buddha.

(Later Prince Abhaya became a bhikkhu, and taking up bhikkhu practice ardently, he attained arahatship with the four Discrimination (paṭisambhidā), the six special apperceptions (chaḷabhiñña) and knowledge of five outstanding features, namely, penetration, facility, quickness, breadth and brilliance. (For details refer to Apādāna Pāli, Volume II).