Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in a rich brahmin’s family. When he grew up, he was well versed in all knowledge and was a world renowned professor with five hundred young brahmins to instruct.

At the time of our story, there was a foolish brahmin who always says the wrong thing. He was learning the scriptures as a pupil, but because of his foolishness, he could not master them. He was the devoted attendant of the Bodhisatta and ministered to him like a slave.

Now, one day after supper, the Bodhisatta want to go to bed. The foolish brahmin having washed and perfumed was about to go out. The Bodhisatta said to him, “Prop up the feet of my bed before you go.” And the young brahmin propped up the feet of the bed on one side all right, but could not find anything to prop it up with on the other side. Accordingly he used his leg as a prop and passed the night so.

When the Bodhisatta got up in the morning and saw the young Brahmin, he asked why he was sitting there. The young Brahmin said, “Master! I could not find one of the bed supports; so I’ve got my leg under to prop it up instead.”

Moved at these words, the Bodhisatta thought, “What devotion! And to think it should come from the veriest dullard of all my pupils. Yet how can I impart learning to him?” And the thought came to him that the best way was to question the young Brahmin on his return from gathering firewood and leaves, as to something he had seen or done that day; and then to ask what it was like. The master thought, “For, this will lead him on to making comparisons and giving reasons, and the continuous practice of comparing and reasoning on his part will enable me to impart learning to him.”

Accordingly he sent for the young man and told him always on his return from picking up firewood and leaves to say what he had seen or eaten or drunk. And the young man promised he would. So one day he said, “Master! I saw a snake.” “What did it look like?” “Oh, like the shaft of a plough.” “That is a very good comparison. Snakes are like the shafts of ploughs,” said the Bodhisatta, who began to have hopes that he might at last succeed with his pupil.

Another day the young Brahmin saw an elephant in the forest and told his master. “And what is an elephant like?” “Oh, like the shaft of a plough.” His master said nothing for he thought that, as the elephant’s trunk and tusks bore a certain resemblance to the shaft of a plough, perhaps his pupil’s stupidity made him speak thus generally (though he was thinking of the trunk in particular), because of his inability to go into accurate detail.

A third day was invited to eat sugar cane, and duly told his master. “And what is a sugar cane like?” “Oh, like the shaft of a plough.” “That is scarcely a good comparison,” thought his master, but said nothing. Another day, again, the pupils were invited to eat molasses with curds and milk, and this too was duly reported. “And what are curds and milk like?” “Oh, like the shaft of a plough.”

Then the master thought to himself, “This young man was perfectly right in saying a snake was like the shaft of a plough, and was more or less right, though not accurate, in saying an elephant and a sugar cane had the same similitude. But milk and curds (which are always white in colour) take the shape of whatever vessel they are placed in and here he missed the comparison entirely. This dullard will never learn.”