Sīla: Virtue as training rules
Sīla is conduct undertaken as a rule you hold yourself to. A straightedge laid across a warped board shows the gap without putting it there, which is why "Is the law sin? May it never be!" is the only honest answer available. The commandment keeps its line steady, and the crookedness underneath comes into view precisely because something straight is finally resting on it.
Abhijjhā: Covetousness
Abhijjhā is the mind leaning toward what belongs to someone else. "You shall not covet" fixes a name onto a motion nobody names on their own: the small lean toward the neighbor's house, wife, field, ox. Unnamed, it passes for ordinary looking around; once named, it stands there as a complete act, finished in the mind before a hand has moved toward anyone's fence.
Anusaya: Latent tendency
Anusaya is a defilement lying dormant until something rouses it. Coveting sat in him long before any commandment reached him, the way embers sit under ash looking like cold gray dust until air moves across them. "I wouldn't have known" is exact reporting: the tendency was there the whole time, unlit, until the words passed over it like a draft of air and it glowed.
Sati: Recollection
Sati is holding something in mind so that it stays present to you. The commandment does its work by being remembered, carried through an ordinary day, so that the next reach toward a neighbor's field arrives with its label already attached. Coming to know sin through the law is this plain business of keeping a rule close enough at hand to catch a movement while the movement is still moving.
Hiri: Moral shame
Hiri is the inward recoil from what is beneath you. Once the lean toward another man's goods carries a name, it can no longer pass itself off as harmless, and the wince at catching yourself in it is where the commandment starts doing more than informing. Paul goes on defending the law for that reason: the same words that dragged his coveting into daylight handed him solid ground to stand on and refuse it.