When matters had reached this pass, Ananda lifted his eyes and discerned a
number of Brahmins of the lower sort, busy about a boy who lay in a fit
upon the ground. They had long been applying exorcisms and other approved
methods with scant success, when the most sagacious among them suggested:

"Let us render the body of this patient an uncomfortable residence for the
demon; peradventure he will then cease to abide therein."

They were accordingly engaged in branding the sufferer with hot irons,
filling his nostrils with smoke, and otherwise to the best of their ability
disquieting the intrusive devil. Ananda's first thought was, "The lad is in
a fit;" the second, "It were a pious deed to deliver him from his
tormentors;" the third, "By good management this may extricate me from my
present uncomfortable predicament, and redound to the glory of the most
holy Buddha."

Yielding to this temptation, he strode forward, chased away the Brahmins
with an air of authority, and, uplifting his countenance to heaven, recited
the appellations of seven devils. No effect ensuing, he repeated seven
more, and so continued until, the fit having passed off in the course of
nature, the patient's paroxysms ceased, he opened his eyes, and Ananda
restored him to his relatives. But the people cried loudly, "A miracle! a
miracle!" and when Ananda resumed his instructions, they gave heed to him,
and numbers embraced the religion of Buddha. Whereupon Ananda exulted, and
applauded himself for his dexterity and presence of mind, and said to
himself:

"Surely the end sanctifies the means."

As he propounded this heresy, the eminence of his merits was reduced to the