For the knowledge of hearts and motives belongs to the Buddhas only, and to no one else; and hence it was that even the Minister of Righteousness[306] prescribed corruption as a subject of meditation for the monk under his rule, through ignorance of his true character. Now the monk derived no benefit from that religious exercise--for the following reason. He had come to life in five hundred successive births in a goldsmith’s house. From the continual sight through so long a period of the purest gold, the idea of impurity was difficult for him to grasp. Four months he spent without being able to get the faintest notion of it. As the Minister of Righteousness was unable to bestow salvation (Arahatship) on his co-resident junior, he said to himself, “He must be one of those whom only a Buddha can lead to the Truth! We will take him to the Tathāgata.” And he led him to the Master. The Master inquired of Sāriputta why he brought the monk before him. “Lord! I prescribed a subject of meditation for this brother, but in four months he has failed to get the most elementary notion of it; so I presumed he was one of those men whom only a Buddha can lead to the Truth, and I have brought him to you.” “What was the particular exercise you prescribed for him, Sāriputta?” “The Meditation on Impurity, O Blessed One!” “O Sāriputta! you don’t understand the hearts and motives of men. Do you go now; but return in the evening, and you shall take your co-resident with you.” Thus dismissing Sāriputta, the Teacher had the monk provided with a better suit of robes, kept him near himself on the begging-round, and had pleasant food given to him. On his return with the monks he spent the rest of the day in his apartment, and in the evening took that brother with him on his walk round the monastery. There, in a mango-grove, he created a pond, and in it a large cluster of lotuses, and among them one flower of surpassing size and beauty. And telling the monk to sit down there and watch that flower, he returned to his apartment. The monk gazed at the flower again and again. The Blessed One made that very flower decay; and even as the monk was watching it, it faded away and lost its colour. Then the petals began to fall off, beginning with the outermost, and in a minute they had all dropped on the ground. At last the heart fell to pieces, and the centre knob only remained. As the monk saw this, he thought, “But now this lotus-flower was exquisitely beautiful! Now its colour has gone; its petals and filaments have fallen away, and only the centre knob is left! If such a flower can so decay, what may not happen to this body of mine! Verily nothing that is composite is enduring!” And the eyes of his mind were opened. Then the Master knew that he had attained to spiritual insight; and without leaving his apartment, sent out an appearance as of himself, saying: