As a sweet-smelling Kokanada lily
Blooming all fragrant in the early dawn,
Behold the Sage, bright with exceeding glory
E’en as the burning sun in the vault of heaven!
For long ago, we are told, in the time of Kassapa the Buddha, he had been a monk, who, having acquired learning himself, had laughed to scorn a dull brother as he was learning a recitation. That brother was so overwhelmed with confusion by his contempt, that he could neither commit to memory, nor recite the passage. In consequence of this conduct he now, though initiated, became dull; he forgot each line he learnt as soon as he learnt the next; and whilst he was trying to learn this one verse four months had passed away.
Then his elder brother said to him: “Roadling, you are not fit for this discipline. In four months you have not been able to learn a single stanza, how can you hope to reach the utmost aim of those who have given up the world? Go away, out of the monastery!” And he expelled him. But Little Roadling, out of love for the religion of the Buddhas, did not care for a layman’s life.
Now at that time it was the elder Roadling’s duty to regulate the distribution of food to the monks. And the nobleman Jīvaka brought many sweet-scented flowers, and going to his Mango-grove presented them to the Teacher, and listened to the discourse. Then, rising from his seat, he saluted the Buddha, and going up to Great Roadling, asked him, “How many brethren are there with the Teacher?”
“About five hundred,” was the reply.
“Will the Buddha and the five hundred brethren come and take their morning meal to-morrow at our house?”
“One called Little Roadling, O disciple, is dull, and makes no progress in the faith; but I accept the invitation for all excepting him.”