‘Venerable Nāgasena, those who regulate their lives aright—do they all attain to insight into the Truth, or are there some of them who do not?’

‘Some do, O king, and some do not.’

‘Then which do, Sir, and which do not?’

‘He who is born as an animal, O king, even though he regulate his life aright, will not attain to insight into the Truth, nor he who is born in The Preta world, nor he who holds wrong views, nor the deceitful man, nor he who has slain his mother, or his father, or an Arahat, nor he who has raised up a schism in the Order, nor he who has shed a Buddha’s blood, nor he who has furtively attached himself to the Order, nor he who has become a pervert, nor he who has violated a sister of the Order, nor he who, having been guilty of one or other of the thirteen grievous offences, has not been rehabilitated, nor a eunuch, nor an hermaphrodite—and whosoever is a human child under seven years of age, even though he regulate his life aright, will not attain to insight into the Truth. To these sixteen individuals there is no attainment of insight, O king, even though they regulate their life aright.’

‘Venerable Nāgasena, there may or may not be a possibility of insight to the fifteen you have first singled out for opposition. But what is the reason why an infant, one under seven years of age, should not, even though he regulate his life aright, attain to insight? Therein there is still a puzzle left. For is it not admitted that in a child there is not passion, neither malice, nor dullness, nor pride, nor heresy, nor discontent, nor lustful thoughts? Being undefiled by sin, that which we call an infant is fit and ready (to the attainment even of Arahatship—how much more) is he worthy to penetrate at a glance into the four truths!’

‘The following is the reason, O king, for my saying that an infant, even though he regulate his life aright, cannot attain to insight. If, O king, one under seven years of age could feel passion about things exciting to passion, could go wrong in things leading to iniquity, could be befooled in matters that mislead, could be maddened as to things that infatuate, could understand a heresy, could distinguish between content and discontent, could think out virtue and vice, then might insight be possible to him. But the mind of one under seven years of age, O king, is powerless and weak, mean, small, slight, obscure, and dull, whereas the essential principle of Nirvāṇa is transcendental, important, weighty, wide-reaching, and extensive. Therefore is it, O king, that the infant, with so imperfect a mind, is unable to grasp an idea so great. It is like the case of Sineru, O king, the king of the mountains, heavy and ponderous, wide-reaching and mighty as it is—could now a man, by his ordinary strength and power and energy, root that mountain up ?’

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘But why not?’

‘Because of the weakness of the man, and because of the mightiness of Sineru, the mountain king.’

‘Just so, O king, is the relation of the infant’s mind to Nirvāṇa.’

‘And again, it is like the broad earth, O king, long and wide, great in expanse and extension, large and mighty—would now a tiny drop of water be able to wet and turn to mud that broad earth ?’

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘But why not, O king?’

‘Because of the minuteness of the drop of water, and because of the greatness of the broad earth.’

‘Just so, O king, is the relation of the infant’s mind to Nirvāṇa.

‘Or again, O king, suppose there were weak and powerless, minute, tiny, limited, and dull fire—would it be possible, with so insignificant a fire, to overcome darkness and make light appear over the whole world of gods and men?’

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘But why not, O king?’

‘Because of the dullness of the fire, and because of the greatness of the world.’

‘Just so, O king, the mind of one under seven years of age is powerless and weak, limited, insignificant, obscure, and dull; it is veiled, moreover, with the thick darkness of ignorance. Hard would it be, therefore, for it to shine forth with the light of knowledge. And that is the reason, O king, why to an infant, to one under seven years of age, even though he order his conduct aright, there can be no attainment of insight into the Truth.

‘Or again, O king, suppose there were a Sālaka, minute in the measure of its body, and rendered lean by disease, and it on seeing an elephant king, which showed the signs of rut in three places, and was nine cubits in length, and three in breadth, and ten in girth, and seven in height, coming to its lair, were to begin to drag the elephant towards it with the view of swallowing it—now would the Sālaka, O king, be able to do ?’

‘Certainly not, Sir.’

‘But why not, O king?’

‘Because of the minuteness of the Sālaka’s body, and because of the magnitude of the elephant king.’

‘Just so, O king, the mind of one under seven years of age is powerless and weak, limited, insignificant, obscure, and dull. Grand and transcendental is the ambrosial essence of Nirvāṇa. With that mind so powerless and weak, so limited, insignificant, obscure, and dull, he cannot penetrate into the grand and transcendental essence of Nirvāṇa. And that is the reason, O king, why to an infant, one under seven years of age, even though he order his conduct aright, there can be no attainment to insight of the Truth.’

‘Very good, Nāgasena! That is so, and I accept it as you say.’

Here ends the dilemma on conversion and conduct.