English (machine translation)
Translation of 肇論
- Language
- English
- Extent
- 95 passages, 20,659 words
- Text
- complete digital text
- Source
- pramana-mt · Machine translation by Gemini 3.8 Flash (2026-10-21) of in.bauddha.taisho.1858 · Machine output without human authorship: no copyright is claimed (CC0 1.0). The original text keeps its own…
Contents
- 1 — 95 parts
Text
1.1
Preface to the Treatises of Sengzhao
1.2
Composed by the śramaṇa Huida of the Xiao Zhaoti Monastery
1.3
I, Huida, in my humble simplicity, compose a general preface to the four treatises—including "The Fundamental Doctrine" and "The Immutability of Things"—written by Dharma Master Shi Sengzhao of Chang'an. In these final ages, the propagation of the scriptures truly falls to the bodhisattvas of the four reliances. As [the Dharma] was transmitted to this land, [Sengzhao] likewise belongs to their rank. Coming down to the Venerable Dao'an and the śramaṇa Kumārajīva, both initiated schools and designated doctrines, mapping out debates and exploring principles, broadcasting and explaining them, their undertakings set upon the profound and void; in this alone did they emulate the ancestral [teachings] of the sage's silence. From that time onwards, throughout ancient and modern eras, among those who are recorded in the biographies of eminent monks and those not recorded in such biographies—including over three thousand monks such as Shi Sengrui, and some eight hundred pure-believing dānapatis such as Xie Lingyun—they went so far as to correctly rectify regional dialects, rhythmically arrange the gradations [of translation], skilfully examine the names and teachings, and meticulously investigate doctrinal principles. Gathering the synthesis of all these worthy men's discourses, there is one as wondrous as this man, who transcended speech and united with silence: in establishing the root, sentence by sentence, he profoundly reached the Buddha's mind; in clarifying the branches, word by word, he thoroughly penetrated the various teachings. Truly, these are splendid scriptures of the Mahāyāna, comprehensive writings of the vaipulya! When examining writings and compositions from antiquity to the present, and carefully sifting through the various treatises written by famous worthies—divided into six or seven lineages, extending even to twelve—all of them judged good and bad and debated correctness and error; only these models are free from such defects and blunders. This is truly because his inner disposition was vast and unrestrained, unbound by anything. Like the deep ocean surpassing the nine streams, standing aloft in pure emptiness, aloof beyond worldly things. Those who know the master are few; those who take refuge in the master gather by the tens. If it is said that he was unknown, it was precisely in this that the master was noble.
1.4
By unmerited good fortune, I encountered this correct voice, rejoicing ceaselessly and feasting upon it without fatigue. Whenever opening and reading it, I could not help dancing with joy, vowing to propagate and expound it with all my life, birth after birth. If my regard for Sengzhao's extant writings is such as this, how could it fail to increase all the more for the contemplations of the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā, the Śataka, and the Dvādaśamukha Śāstra, down to the profound vaipulya sūtras! Common gossip in the world all says: 'Sengzhao's writings are merely the paramārtha-satya of the Tattvasiddhi, the universal doctrine of the Daśabhūmika-śāstra, and the reckless discourses relying on Zhuangzi and Laozi.' Such statements are truly the talk of great mischief-makers, slandering the deceased—vulgar street chatter not worth picking up. The spiritual way is formless; the nimbleness of the mind is difficult to depict. Since words are restrictive and the meaning is distant, various interpretations run astray. How could Sengzhao's intended meaning have been in vain? It truly had good reason. If one should instead indulge in such [slanderous] words, I vow not to meet them birth after birth, until, having attained the patient mind [of non-arising], I return to deliver those low beings.
1.5
Having lingered in lecture halls for over twenty years, I occasionally took the high seat, yet had not seen this treatise until recently. I now present a brief preface to entrust my comprehension within it. Those who agree with me are my worthy friends; for the rest, I await future wise ones. The profound meaning of the great division is named original non-being; thus, the established doctrine is marked by dharmatā. For opening the way of the Dharma of emptiness, nothing surpasses the two truths; therefore, the two truths are explained next to reveal the gateway of the Buddha's teaching. However, the cause of perfect correctness is the unsurpassed prajñā, and the culmination of the fruit is only nirvāṇa; therefore, at the end, the twofold mystery is opened to illuminate the dwelling place of all the sages. Although svabhāva-śūnyatā is used to intimate the root, there is no root that can be named; speaking of the root cuts off speech, for it is not a sphere of mental activity. Hence, immutability corresponds to the conventional, and the conventional is unarisen; the untrue is the true, and the true is merely a nominal designation. If one can be open and unrestrained, honouring this single path, with pure ears and an open heart, saying nothing of the two truths, then the efficacy of pure illumination becomes manifest, and thus prajñā is unknowing. The virtue of the nameless arises, and nirvāṇa is beyond naming. I maintain that this exposition is complete and fully exhausts the Buddha's profound ocean, vastly boundless, fathoming the essence and characteristics of phenomena. Although the words are concise, the meaning is rich; the text is ornate, yet the principles are profound. The momentum of the phrasing is interlinked, yet the meaning is truly solitary and lofty. Dare I say that of all exceedingly wondrous and fine words, none do not exhaust themselves in this grand treatise. Hence Kumārajīva sighed in praise: 'Foremost in understanding emptiness—Master Sengzhao is the man!' These words were not without foundation; they are evident in his letters. But "The Fundamental Doctrine" is aloof, and none can pose an objection to it; whereas the four treatises such as "The Immutability [of Things]" open up practical guidance, analysing subtleties through questions and answers, which is why they are called treatises.
1.6
Composed by Shi Sengzhao of Chang'an under the Later Qin
1.7
The Meaning of the Fundamental Doctrine
1.8
Original non-being, dharmatā, dharmatā, svabhāva-śūnyatā, and concurrence of conditions are just one single meaning. Why so? All phenomena are born from the concurrence of conditions. Being born from the concurrence of conditions, before they are born they do not exist; when conditions disperse, they perish. If they truly existed, existing, they would not perish. Inferring from this, we know that although they are now present, existing, their nature is always inherently empty. Being always inherently empty, it is therefore called svabhāva-śūnyatā. Because of svabhāva-śūnyatā, it is called dharmatā. Dharmatā being thus, it is called dharmatā. Dharmatā is naturally non-being, not made non-being through deduction; therefore, it is named original non-being. When speaking of neither existence nor non-existence, it is simply not the existence of the views of existence and eternalism, nor the non-existence of mithyādṛṣṭi and ucchedadṛṣṭi. If one regards existence as existence, one then regards non-existence as non-existence. One who does not maintain non-existence when contemplating phenomena can be said to know the dharmatā of phenomena. Although one contemplates existence, one does not seize upon characteristics; thus, the characteristics of phenomena are the characteristic of ānimitta, and the sage's mind abides where there is no abiding. The triyāna equally contemplates svabhāva-śūnyatā and attains the Path. Svabhāva-śūnyatā means the dharmatā of all phenomena. Seeing the dharmatā of phenomena is called correct contemplation; if it diverges, it is then incorrect contemplation. Supposing the dviyāna did not see this principle, they would be inverted. Therefore, the triyāna's contemplation of phenomena does not differ; it is merely that their minds differ in being great or small. Upāya and prajñā are the appellations of great wisdom. The dharmatā of all phenomena is called prajñā; being able not to manifest realisation is the function of upāya. Adapting to transform sentient beings is called upāya; not being defiled by worldly encumbrances is the power of prajñā. Hence, the gate of prajñā contemplates emptiness, and the gate of upāya enters existence. Entering existence, one never strays into delusion regarding the void; thus, one constantly abides in existence without being defiled. Not wearying of existence, one contemplates emptiness; thus, one contemplates emptiness without realising [it alone]. This is what is meant by upāya and prajñā being complete within the power of a single thought. The power of a single thought possesses both expedient means and wisdom; ponder this well, and it will be distinctly understood. The truth of cessation in nirvāṇa is simply the exhaustion of fetters, whereby birth and death are eternally extinguished, and hence it is called cessation; there is no other distinct place of cessation.
1.9
Treatise on the Immutability of Things, Part 1
1.10
That birth and death alternate and decline, that cold and heat successively change, and that existent things flow and shift—this is the ordinary feeling of humanity. I, however, say that this is not so. Why? The Fangguang jing says: 'Phenomena have no coming or going, and nothing that moves or turns.' When we examine the activity of being motionless, how could it be abandoning motion to seek rest? One must seek rest within all motions. Because one must seek rest within all motions, though in motion, it is always at rest; because one does not abandon motion to seek rest, though at rest, it is not separated from motion. Thus, motion and rest have never differed, yet the confused perceive them differently, which causes true words to get bogged down in contentious debate, and the essential path to be compromised by a fondness for peculiarities. Therefore, the culmination of rest and agitation is not easily spoken of. Why is this? To speak of the truth goes against convention; to accord with convention goes against the truth. Going against the truth, one is confused about nature and does not return; going against convention, words are bland and tasteless. This causes persons of middling capacity not to distinguish between being and non-being, and base men to clap their hands and pay no heed. That which is near yet cannot be known—is it not indeed the nature of things? Yet unable to stop myself, I venture once more to lodge my mind in the juncture between motion and rest—how could I claim it to be definitive! Let me attempt to discuss it, saying:
1.11
The Daoxing jing says: "All dharmas originally have no place from which they come, and in going they have no place to which they arrive." The Madhyamaka says: "Observing the direction, one knows that one goes; but the goer does not arrive at the direction." These both seek rest in the very midst of motion, thereby knowing that things are immutable—this is clear! What ordinary people call motion is because past things do not arrive at the present; hence they say it is motion and not rest. What I call rest is also because past things do not arrive at the present; hence I say it is rest and not motion. Motion and not rest is because they do not come; rest and not motion is because they do not go. Thus, what they encounter has never differed, yet what they perceive has never been the same. Opposing it is what is called blockage; according with it is what is called penetration. If one truly attains its principle, what obstruction could there be? Alas! The delusion of human sentiment has lasted long; their eyes face the truth yet they do not realize it. Knowing that past things do not come, they yet say that present things can pass away. Since past things do not come, where could present things go? Why is this? If you seek yesterday's thing in yesterday, in yesterday it was never absent; if you demand yesterday's thing in the present, in the present it has never existed. Having never existed in the present shows that the thing does not come; having never been absent in yesterday shows that the thing does not go. Turning back to seek the present, the present also does not pass away. This means that past things naturally abide in the past, not arriving in the past from the present; present things naturally abide in the present, not arriving in the present from the past. Therefore Zhongni said: "Hui sees the new; as shoulders pass, the moment is no longer the old." In this way, that things do not mutually come and go is clear. Since there is not the slightest sign of going and returning, what thing could there be that moves? Thus, the whirlwind may topple mountains yet is constantly at rest; the great rivers rush onward yet do not flow; wild horses of dust drift and blow yet do not move; the sun and moon traverse the heavens yet do not revolve. What is there to wonder at? Ah! The sage has a saying: "Human life passes swiftly, swifter than a flowing stream." Therefore the śrāvaka awakens to impermanence to accomplish the path, and the pratyekabuddha realizes the separation of conditions to reach the real. If the myriad motions were not transformations, how could one trace transformations to ascend to the path? When one reinvestigates the sacred words, they are subtle, hidden, and hard to fathom. As if moving yet at rest, seeming to go yet remaining. They can be met by spirit, but are hard to seek through external matters. Therefore, speaking of going does not necessarily mean going—it is merely to block people's ordinary ideas; referring to abiding does not necessarily mean abiding—it is merely to explain what people call passing away. How could it mean that going can be dispatched, or that abiding can be retained? Hence the Chengju jing says: "The bodhisattva dwells in the midst of eternalism, yet expounds the teaching of impermanence." The Mahāyāna treatises say: "All dharmas are motionless, without any place of coming or going." These all guide and reach across all directions; the two statements converge in one. How could differing phrasing contradict their intent? Therefore, speaking of eternity yet not abiding; referring to going yet not mutating. Not mutating, hence though passing away, it is ever at rest; not abiding, hence though at rest, it ever passes away. Though at rest it ever passes away, therefore it passes away without mutating; though passing away it is ever at rest, therefore it rests without remaining. Thus, Zhuangzi's hiding of the boat in the ravine and Zhongni's standing by the stream were both lamenting the difficulty of retaining what has passed; how could they mean that one casts off the present so that it may go away? Therefore, one who contemplates the mind of the sage does not see as ordinary people see, and attains it. Why? People say that youth and vigor share one body, and a hundred years have a single substance; in vain they know that the years pass, unaware that the physical form follows them. For this reason, the brahmacārin left home, and returned with white hair. The neighbors saw him and said, "Is the man of the past still alive?" The brahmacārin said, "I am like the man of the past, yet I am not the man of the past." The neighbors were all astonished and rejected his words. As it is said, a strong man shoulders it and runs away, while the benighted do not notice. Does it not mean this? Therefore, relying on what the multitude clings to, the Tathāgata used provisional words to resolve doubts; mounting the non-dual true mind, he uttered the diverse teachings that are not one. What can appear divergent yet never differ—is it not solely the holy words? Hence, speaking of the real has the designation "immutability"; guiding the conventional has the doctrine of "flux". Though there are thousands of paths and different proclamations, they converge in the same import. Yet those who cling to the letter hear "immutability" and assume past things do not come to the present; listening to "flux", they assume present things can reach the past. Having already spoken of past and present, why wish to mutate them? Therefore, speaking of passing away does not necessarily mean passing away: past and present constantly abide, because they are motionless; referring to going does not necessarily mean going: it means not proceeding from the present to the past, because they do not come. Not coming, they do not gallop across past and present; motionless, their individual natures each abide in a single time. Thus, though texts vary in phrasing and the hundred schools differ in doctrine, if one grasps their convergence, how could differing words cause confusion? Therefore, what people call abiding, I call going; what people call going, I call abiding. Thus, though going and abiding differ, their import is one. Hence the scripture says: "True words seem paradoxical. Who will believe them?" These words have their reason! Why? People seek the past in the present, saying it does not abide. I seek the present in the past, knowing it does not go. If the present were to reach the past, the past should contain the present; if the past were to reach the present, the present should contain the past. That the present lacks the past shows that it does not come; that the past lacks the present shows that it does not go. If the past does not arrive at the present, and the present also does not arrive at the past, then things each naturally abide in a single time—what thing could there be that comes and goes? Thus, though the four seasons rush like the wind, and the armillary sphere turns like lightning, if one grasps the principle in the minutest detail, though swift, they do not revolve. Therefore, the Tathāgata's merits flow through myriad generations and are ever-present; his path penetrates a hundred kalpas and grows ever firmer. A mountain is built by relying on the first basket of earth, and a long journey is accomplished by relying on the initial step, because fruition and deeds cannot decay. Because fruition and deeds cannot decay, though in the past, they do not transform; not transforming, they do not mutate. Not mutating, their tranquil presence is clear. Hence the scripture says: "Though the three calamities envelop everything, deeds and karma remain tranquil." One should trust these words! Why? The fruit is not simultaneous with the cause; due to the cause, the fruit arises. Because it arises due to the cause, the cause did not perish in the past; because the fruit is not simultaneous with the cause, the cause does not come to the present. Not perishing and not coming, the principle of immutability is clear! Why still be deluded about going or staying, or hesitate between motion and rest? Thus, though heaven and earth were to overturn, do not say it is not at rest; though the great deluge reaches the heavens, do not say it is in motion. If one can unite one's spirit with the things themselves, it can be known without going far!
1.12
Treatise on the Immutability of Things (End)
1.13
Treatise on the Emptiness of the Unreal, Number Two
1.14
Ultimate emptiness and non-arising are the wondrous purpose of prajñā's profound insight, and the ultimate principle of existing things. Unless one is sagely, brilliant, and exceptionally penetrating, how could one unite the spirit between being and non-being? Therefore, the ultimate man penetrates with a spiritual mind into the infinite, where no extremity can obstruct him; he exhausts eye and ear in seeing and hearing, where sound and form cannot constrain him. Is this not because he accords with the inherent emptiness of the myriad things, so that things cannot encumber his spiritual brilliance? Thus the sage mounts the true mind and accords with principle, so that nothing is obstructed and all is penetrated; he examines the single qi to contemplate transformations, so that wherever he meets things, he accords comfortably. Nothing being obstructed and all being penetrated, he can blend the mixed to achieve purity; wherever he meets things and accords comfortably, he encounters things and becomes one with them. In this way, though the myriad phenomena are distinct, they cannot differentiate themselves. Being unable to differentiate themselves, we know that phenomena are not real phenomena. Because phenomena are not real phenomena, though they are phenomena, they are not phenomena. Thus, things and self share the same root; right and wrong are of the same qi. So hidden, minute, deep, and subtle—it can hardly be exhausted by the sentiments of the multitude. Hence, recent discussions concerning the doctrine of emptiness have constantly differed. If one seeks agreement through differences, what thing could ever agree? Therefore, various theories have arisen in rivalry, yet their understanding of the nature of things has never been the same. Why is this? The "Mental Non-being" school has no mind toward the myriad things, yet the myriad things have never been non-existent. This succeeds in the tranquility of the spirit, but fails regarding the emptiness of things. The "Matter as Such" school clarifies that matter is not self-caused matter, so though it is matter, it is not matter. But in speaking of matter, one should just take matter itself as matter; why wait for matter to matter matter before it becomes matter? This merely says that matter is not self-caused matter, but fails to realize that matter is non-matter. The "Original Non-being" school has an inclination toward non-being, frequently interpreting words to favor non-being. Thus, 'not being' means being is just non-being; 'not non-being' means non-being is also non-being. But if one investigates the original intent of composing these texts, it was simply that 'not being' means not truly being, and 'not non-being' means not truly non-being. Why must 'not being' mean lacking this being, and 'not non-being' mean lacking that non-being? This is merely talk that delights in non-being; how could it be said to accord with and penetrate actual matters, or conform to the true nature of things? If one takes things as things according to things, then what is thinged can be thinged; if one takes things as things according to what is non-thing, then though it is a thing, it is not a thing. Therefore, things do not accord with names to reach reality, and names do not accord with things to fulfill the truth. Thus, paramārtha-satya rests alone in tranquility outside name and doctrine; how could literary expressions resolve it? Yet unable to maintain silence, I briefly set down words to approximate it. Let us attempt to discuss it, saying:
1.15
The *Mahāyāna-śāstra* says: 'All dharmas are neither possessing characteristics nor devoid of characteristics.' The *Mūlamadhyamakakārikā* says: 'That all dharmas are neither existent nor non-existent is the supreme paramārtha-satya.' If one investigates this 'neither existent nor non-existent,' does it mean that one sweeps away the ten thousand things, blocks sight and hearing, and abides in vast vacuity and utter desolation before it can be paramārtha-satya? Truly, it is because by approaching things one accords with and penetrates them, so things do not run counter to it; by approaching the false one accords with the true, so their nature does not change. Because their nature does not change, though non-existent they are existent; because things do not run counter to it, though existent they are non-existent. Though existent they are non-existent, which is termed 'not existent'; though non-existent they are existent, which is termed 'not non-existent.' Thus, it is not that there are no things; rather, things are not truly things. Since things are not truly things, by virtue of what could they be treated as things? Therefore a sutra says: 'Rūpa is svabhāva-śūnyatā, not because rūpa is destroyed to become śūnyatā.' This clarifies that as for the sage's relation to things, he approaches the intrinsic emptiness of the myriad things; how could he wait to dismember them before seeking comprehension! Therefore, [the discourse delivered while] lying ill contains the discussion of the untrue, and *Chāoyue ri* contains the designation of approaching the empty; thus, though the texts of the Three Piṭakas differ, what unifies them is one. Hence the *Fangguang jing* says: 'In the supreme paramārtha-satya there is neither accomplishment nor attainment; because of saṃvṛti-satya there is accomplishment and attainment.' Now, 'having attainment' is merely the provisional title for 'having no attainment,' and 'having no attainment' is the true name for 'having attainment.' Because it is the true name, though true, it is not existent; because it is a provisional title, though provisional, it is not non-existent. Therefore, speaking of the true, it has never been existent; speaking of the provisional, it has never been non-existent. The two expressions have never been one; the two principles have never been different. Hence a sutra says: 'Are paramārtha-satya and saṃvṛti-satya said to be different? The reply is: They are not different.' This sutra simply distinguishes paramārtha-satya to clarify non-existence, and saṃvṛti-satya to clarify non-non-existence; how could it be that because the truths are two, things are bifurcated? Thus the myriad things indeed have that by which they are not existent, and have that by which they are not non-existent. Because they have that by which they are not existent, though existent they are not existent; because they have that by which they are not non-existent, though non-existent they are not non-existent. Though non-existent they are not non-existent, for non-existence does not terminate in sheer vacuity; though existent they are not existent, for existence is not true existence. If existence does not amount to the real, and non-existence does not obliterate traces, then though existence and non-existence are named differently, their import is one. Therefore the Youth praised: 'He expounds the Dharma as neither existent nor non-existent, for through causes and conditions all dharmas arise.' The *Yingluo jing* says: 'Turning the wheel of Dharma is neither having a turning nor having no turning; this is called turning that which has nothing to turn.' These are the subtle words of the various sutras. Why so? If one says that things are non-existent, then mithyādṛṣṭi would not be delusion; if one says that things are existent, then śāśvatadṛṣṭi would be correct. Because things are not non-existent, mithyādṛṣṭi is delusion; because things are not existent, śāśvatadṛṣṭi is incorrect. Thus, that which is neither existent nor non-existent is truly the discourse of paramārtha-satya. Therefore the *Daoxing jing* says: 'The mind is neither existent nor non-existent.' The *Madhyamaka* says: 'Things are not existent because they are from causes and conditions; they are not non-existent because of dependent origination.' Investigating the principle, it is indeed so. Why is this? If existence were true existence, existence would naturally be permanently existent; how could it depend on conditions before existing? Just as in the case of true non-existence, non-existence would naturally be permanently non-existent; how could it depend on conditions before being non-existent! If existence does not exist of itself, but depends on conditions before existing, we know that existence is not true existence. Existence not being true existence, though it exists, it cannot be called existent. As for not non-existent: non-existence is tranquil and motionless, and can then be called non-existent. If the myriad things were non-existent, they should not arise; since they arise, they are not non-existent. This clarifies that because of dependent origination, they are not non-existent. Therefore the *Mahāyāna-śāstra* says: 'All dharmas, because of all causes and conditions, should exist; all dharmas, because of all causes and conditions, should not exist. All non-existent dharmas, because of all causes and conditions, should exist; all existent dharmas, because of all causes and conditions, should not exist.' When we examine these words on existence and non-existence, how could they merely be paradoxical arguments! If they should exist, then they are existent and one should not speak of non-existence; if they should not exist, then they are non-existent and one should not speak of existence. Speaking of existence is provisional existence to clarify non-non-existence. Borrowing non-existence is to discern non-existence. This is one matter with two designations; their expressions seem different. If one grasps what is identical in them, there is nothing different that is not identical. Thus, the ten thousand dharmas indeed have that by which they are not existent, so they cannot be obtained as existent; they have that by which they are not non-existent, so they cannot be obtained as non-existent. Why? If one wishes to say they are existent, their existence is not truly produced; if one wishes to say they are non-existent, forms and phenomena have already taken shape. Once shapes have formed, they are not immediately non-existent; not being true, they are not real existence. Thus, the meaning of 'not truly empty' is revealed here! Therefore the *Fangguang jing* says: 'All dharmas are provisional designations and not real, like an illusory person. It is not that there is no illusory person, but the illusory person is not a real person.' Now, seeking things by names, things have no reality matching the names; seeking names by things, names lack the efficacy of grasping things. Things having no reality matching the names, they are not [true] things; names lacking the efficacy of grasping things, they are not [true] names. Hence names do not match reality, and reality does not match names. When name and reality do not match, where are the myriad things? Therefore the *Madhyamaka* says: 'Things have neither this nor that.' Yet people take this as this, and that as that. The other also takes this as that, and that as this. 'This' and 'that' are not fixed to a single name, yet the deluded harbor fixed assumptions. Thus 'this' and 'that' are originally not existent, and the deluded are originally not non-existent; once one awakens to the non-existence of 'this' and 'that,' what thing could there be that can exist? Therefore we know that the ten thousand things are not real, but have long been provisional designations! Hence the *Chengju jing* sets forth the text on 'forced names,' and the Garden [Master Zhuangzi] relies on the metaphors of 'finger and horse.' Thus, where are profound and far-reaching words not present! Therefore, that the sage mounts the myriad transformations without changing, and traverses the myriad confusions while constantly penetrating them, is because he approaches the intrinsic emptiness of the myriad things, without relying on emptiness to empty things. Therefore a sutra says: 'Most wondrous, World-Honoured One! The motionless realm of reality is the standing ground for all dharmas.' It is not that apart from the real there is an established ground; the established ground is itself the real. Thus, is the Way far away? Touch upon things and it is real! Is the sage far away? Embody it and one is spiritual!
1.16
Treatise on Not Truly Empty (End)
1.17
Treatise on Prajñā Being Unknowing, Number Three
1.18
Now, prajñā, empty and profound, is indeed the culmination of the triyāna. Truly it is the singular real without divergence, yet heterodox discourses have long been in contention. There is the Indian śramaṇa Kumārajīva, who in his youth trod the Great Way and investigated the subtleties of this purport. He stood uniquely beyond words and forms, and subtly accorded with the realm of the silent and formless; he rivaled different traditions in Kapilavastu, and spread the pure breeze eastward. When about to illuminate distant lands, he concealed his brilliance in the Liang territory; this was because the Way does not respond in vain, but when it responds, there is surely a reason. In the third year of Hongshi, the year being Xingji, the Qin planned an expedition into the state, raising an army with the intent of bringing him. This was the destiny of the Northern Heavens, its timing being naturally so. The Heavenly King of Great Qin accords in his Way with the beginning of the hundred kings, and his virtue embraces a thousand generations; gliding easily through the ten thousand affairs of state, he propagates the Way all day long; he is truly relied upon as heaven by the populace of this degenerate age, and leaned upon by the bequeathed teachings of Śākyamuni. At that time, he gathered over five hundred śramaṇas versed in doctrine at the Xiaoyao Garden, personally held the Qin texts, and collated the vaipulya scriptures together with Kumārajīva. What they opened up was surely not merely a benefit for their own time, but a bridge spanning countless kalpas. Incompetent and lacking as I am, I once took part in that auspicious gathering, and consider that my hearing of supreme and extraordinary essentials began at that time. However, the sage's wisdom is subtle and profound, deeply concealed and difficult to fathom. Being without characteristics and nameless, it cannot be captured by words or images. Attempting here to vaguely trace what lies in my mind, I merely express it in unrestrained words; how could I claim to analyze the holy mind! Let us tentatively discuss it, saying:
1.19
The *Fangguang jing* says: 'Prajñā has no characteristic of existing, and no characteristic of arising and ceasing.' The *Daoxing jing* says: 'Prajñā is unknowing and unseeing.' This explains the function of the illumination of wisdom, yet why does it say 'without characteristics' and 'unknowing'? It is clear that there indeed exists knowing without characteristics and illumination without knowing. Why so? One who has something known also has something unknown. Because the holy mind is unknowing, there is nothing it does not know. The knowing of non-knowing is called all-knowing (sarvajñā). Therefore a sutra says: 'The holy mind knows nothing, yet there is nothing it does not know.' How true this is! Hence the sage empties his mind while making his illumination real, knowing all day long yet never having known. Therefore he is able to dim his radiance, conceal his light, empty his mind for profound reflection, and close his intellect and stop his hearing so as to be uniquely awakened in the profound darkness. Thus, wisdom has the reflection that fathoms the profound yet is unknowing; spirit has the functioning of responding and meeting yet is without deliberate thought. Because spirit is without deliberate thought, it can reign supreme beyond the world; because wisdom is unknowing, it can profoundly illuminate beyond affairs. Though wisdom is beyond affairs, it is never without affairs; though spirit is beyond the world, it is always within the realm. Therefore, bowing down and looking up, it accords with transformations and responds boundlessly; there is no obscurity it does not discern, yet it has no achievement of illumination. This is that which is known by unknowing, the confluence of the sage and the spiritual. Yet as a thing, it is real without being existent, empty without being non-existent. That which persists yet cannot be discussed—is it not solely the holy wisdom? Why so? If one wishes to say it is existent, it has no form and no name; if one wishes to say it is non-existent, the sage is numinous by means of it. Because the sage is numinous by means of it, emptiness does not forfeit illumination; because it has no form and no name, illumination does not forfeit emptiness. Because illumination does not forfeit emptiness, it blends without altering; because emptiness does not forfeit illumination, it moves to engage the coarse. Therefore, the function of holy wisdom has never ceased for a moment, yet when sought in shapes and characteristics, it can never be found for a moment. Therefore the *Ratnakūṭa* says: 'Acting and functioning with no mind or intention.' The *Fangguang jing* says: 'Without moving from equal awakening, he establishes all dharmas.' Thus, though the sage's traces are of ten thousand varieties, their import is just one. Therefore, prajñā can be empty yet illuminate; paramārtha-satya can be forgotten yet known; the myriad movements can be approached yet remain still; holy responses can be non-existent yet act. This is knowing of itself without knowing, and acting of itself without acting! What else is there to know? What else is there to act?
1.20
An objection states: The true mind of the sage shines uniquely bright, illuminating thing after thing; responding and engaging without fixed direction, its movements meet with affairs. Because it illuminates thing after thing, its knowing leaves nothing out; because its movements meet with affairs, its meetings do not miss the opportune moment. Because its meetings do not miss the opportune moment, there must be a meeting with what can be met; because its knowing leaves nothing out, there must be a knowing of what can be known. Because there must be a knowing of what can be known, the sage does not know in vain; because there must be a meeting with what can be met, the sage does not meet in vain. Since he already knows and already meets, why say 'unknowing' and 'unmeeting'? If one forgets knowing and abandons meeting, this is merely that the sage has no selfish partiality in knowing and meeting, in order to fulfill his own selflessness. This can be called not taking ownership of his knowing; how can it be deemed 'unknowing'?
1.21
I reply: The sage’s achievements surpass heaven and earth, yet he is not benevolent; his illumination exceeds the sun and moon, yet he is ever more obscure. Could it be said that trees and stones blind his bosom? In him, it is simply unknowing. Truly, because that which distinguishes him from ordinary people is spiritual brightness, one cannot seek it through phenomenal marks. You intend to have it that the sage does not regard his knowing as his own, while in fact he has never not had knowing—is this not contrary to the sage's mind and a departure from the scriptural purport? Why is this? The sūtra says: 'True prajñā is pure like space, without knowing and without seeing, without activity and without conditions.' Thus knowing itself is unknowing; how could it wait upon turning back its illumination to become unknowing? If one says it is pure because knowing is of an empty nature, then this fails to distinguish between delusion and wisdom: the three poisons and four inversions would all likewise be pure, so why esteem prajñā alone? If one praises prajñā on account of the known object, the known object is not prajñā; and since the known object is inherently and constantly pure, prajñā would never have been pure, nor would there be any basis to direct praise of purity to prajñā. Yet when the sūtra says 'prajñā is pure', is it not because the fundamental nature of prajñā is truly pure, intrinsically lacking the knowing of deluded grasping? Since it intrinsically lacks the knowing of deluded grasping, it cannot be called knowing. How could unknowing merely mean being named unknowing? Knowing is inherently unknowing! Therefore the sage, with prajñā of unknowing, illuminates that paramārtha-satya devoid of marks. Paramārtha-satya leaves out neither the hare nor the horse; prajñā lacks no exhaustive discernment. Hence they converge without discrepancy, fitting without being affirmed. Quiescent and unknowing, yet there is nothing it does not know.
1.22
The questioner asks: Things have no means to express themselves, so names are established to express things. Although things are not names, there are indeed nameable things corresponding to these names. Therefore, seeking things through names, things cannot remain hidden. Yet your treatise says 'the sage’s mind is unknowing', and also says 'there is nothing it does not know.' The meaning would seem to be that unknowing has never known, and knowing has never been without knowing. This is what the teaching of names expresses, and the fundamental intention behind establishing words. Yet the treatise wishes to make them one in the sage’s mind, diverging from the textual purport. Seeking the reality through the text, I do not see its appropriateness. Why is this? If knowing obtains in the sage’s mind, unknowing has nothing to express; if unknowing obtains in the sage’s mind, knowing likewise has nothing to express; if both obtain nothing, there is nothing further to discuss!
1.23
I reply: The sūtra says: 'The meaning of prajñā is nameless and inexpressible, neither existent nor non-existent, neither real nor unreal.' Emptiness does not lose illumination, and illumination does not lose emptiness; this is the nameless Dharma, and therefore it is not something that words can express. Although words cannot express it, without words there would be no means to transmit it; therefore the sage speaks all day yet has never spoken. Now I shall attempt to distinguish it for you in wild words. The sage’s mind is subtle and ānimitta, and cannot be deemed existent; its functioning is ever more diligent, and cannot be deemed non-existent. Because it cannot be deemed non-existent, the sage's wisdom resides therein; because it cannot be deemed existent, the teaching of names terminates there. Therefore, speaking of knowing is not regarding it as knowing, but wishing to express its discernment; speaking of not knowing is not regarding it as not knowing, but wishing to distinguish its character. Distinguishing its character is not making it non-existent; expressing its discernment is not making it existent. Because it is not existent, it knows and yet is unknowing; because it is not non-existent, it is unknowing and yet knows. Thus knowing is unknowing, and unknowing is knowing. Do not let differences in words make a difference in the sage’s mind.
1.24
The questioner asks: Paramārtha-satya is profound and abstruse; without wisdom it cannot be fathomed. The capacity of the sage’s wisdom is revealed precisely here. Therefore the sūtra says: 'Without obtaining prajñā, one does not see paramārtha-satya.' Paramārtha-satya is the object-condition of prajñā. If one seeks wisdom through its condition, wisdom is then knowing.
1.25
I reply: Seeking wisdom through conditions, wisdom is not knowing. Why is this? The Fangguang jing says: 'Not giving rise to consciousness conditioned on rūpa is called not seeing rūpa.' It also says: 'Because the pañca-skandhas are pure, prajñā is pure.' Prajñā is the apprehending subject, and the pañca-skandhas are the apprehended objects. The apprehended object is the condition. Knowing and the known exist in mutual relation and are non-existent in mutual relation. Being non-existent in mutual relation, no thing exists; existing in mutual relation, no thing is non-existent. Because no thing is non-existent, they arise through conditions; because no thing exists, conditions cannot produce them. Because conditions cannot produce them, illuminating conditions is not knowing; because they arise through conditions, knowing and conditions arise dependent on one another. Therefore, knowing and unknowing arise from the known object. Why is this? Wisdom knows the known object, and because it grasps marks it is called knowing. Paramārtha-satya is inherently without marks; how could true wisdom know it? The reason for this is that the known object is not inherently a known object; the known object arises from knowing. Since the known object gives rise to knowing, knowing also gives rise to the known object. Since the known and the knowing give rise to each other, mutual arising is conditioned dharmas; conditioned dharmas are therefore not real. Being not real, they are not paramārtha-satya. Hence Madhyamaka says: 'Things exist through causes and conditions, and therefore are not real. Not existing through causes and conditions, they are real.' Now, paramārtha-satya is called 'real', and what is real is not conditioned. What is real is not conditioned, so no thing arises from conditions. Hence the sūtra says: 'I do not see any dharma arising without conditions.' Therefore, when true wisdom contemplates paramārtha-satya, it never grasps a known object. Since wisdom does not grasp a known object, how could this wisdom be knowing? However, wisdom is not non-knowing; it is simply that paramārtha-satya is not a known object, so true wisdom is also not knowing. Yet you wish to seek wisdom through conditions, and therefore regard wisdom as knowing. If conditions themselves are not conditions, where can you seek knowing?
1.26
The questioner asks: As for the treatise's statement 'not grasping', is it not grasping because of unknowing? Or is it knowing and only then not grasping? If it is not grasping because of unknowing, then the sage wanders blindly like one walking in the night, unable to distinguish black from white! If it is knowing and only then not grasping, then knowing is different from not grasping!
1.27
I reply: It is not that because of unknowing it does not grasp; nor is it knowing and only then not grasping. Knowing is precisely non-grasping, and therefore it can know without grasping.
1.28
The questioner asks: As for the treatise's statement 'not grasping', this is truly because the sage’s mind does not treat things as things, and therefore has no deluded grasping. Without grasping, there is no affirming; without affirming, there is no matching. What could match the sage’s mind, that one says the sage’s mind has nothing it does not know?
1.29
I reply: That is so: there is no affirming and no matching. When there is no matching, then there is nothing among things that is not matched; when there is no affirming, there is nothing among things that is not affirmed. Because there is nothing among things that is not affirmed, it affirms without affirming; because there is nothing among things that is not matched, it matches without matching. Therefore the sūtra says: 'Completely seeing all dharmas, yet having nothing that is seen.'
1.30
The questioner asks: It is not that the sage’s mind is incapable of affirming; truly it is because there is no affirmation that can be affirmed. Although there is no affirmation that can be affirmed, it appropriately affirms non-affirmation. Therefore, when the sūtra says 'because paramārtha-satya is ānimitta, prajñā is unknowing', it is truly because prajñā lacks the knowing that has marks. If one takes the markless as markless, how could this burden paramārtha-satya?
1.31
I reply: The sage does not take the markless as markless. Why is this? If one takes the markless as markless, then the markless becomes a mark. Abandoning existence to go to non-existence is like fleeing a mountain peak only to plunge into a ravine; both alike fail to escape calamity. Therefore the ultimate man dwells in existence without being existent, and abides in non-existence without being non-existent. Although he does not grasp at existence or non-existence, neither does he abandon existence or non-existence. Therefore he softens his glare amidst the defilements of the world and moves through the five destinies, departing in silence and arriving in calmness, tranquil in non-action and yet leaving nothing undone.
1.32
The questioner asks: Although the sage’s mind is unknowing, the way it responds and converges is without error. Therefore, what can be responded to, it responds to; what cannot be responded to, it leaves aside. If so, the sage’s mind at times arises and at times ceases. Could this be so?
1.33
I reply: Arising and ceasing belong to a mind that arises and ceases. The sage has no mind; whence could arising and ceasing arise? Yet it is not that he has no mind: it is simply that his mind is a mindless mind. Nor is it that he does not respond: it is simply that his response is a non-responding response. Therefore, the sage’s way of responding and converging is as dependable as the substance of the four seasons. Simply taking emptiness and non-being as its essence, this cannot be made to arise, nor can it be made to cease.
1.34
The questioner asks: The non-being of the sage’s wisdom and the non-being of deluded wisdom are both without arising and ceasing. How are they distinguished?
1.35
I reply: The non-being of the sage’s wisdom is unknowing; the non-being of deluded wisdom is knowing non-being. Although their non-being is the same, that by which they are non-being is different. Why is this? The sage’s mind is empty and quiescent; having no knowing that could be negated, it can be called unknowing, but not knowing non-being. Deluded wisdom possesses knowing, so it has knowing that can be negated; it can be called knowing non-being, but not unknowing. Unknowing is the non-being of prajñā; knowing non-being is the non-being of paramārtha-satya. Therefore, regarding prajñā and paramārtha-satya: spoken of in terms of function, they are identical yet different; spoken of in terms of quiescence, they are different yet identical. Being identical, they have no mind toward each other; being different, they do not lose the efficacy of illumination. Therefore, that which discerns identity is identical in difference, and that which discerns difference is different in identity; thus they can neither be made different nor be made identical. Why is this? Internally there is the brightness of solitary discernment; externally there is the reality of the myriad dharmas. Although the myriad dharmas are real, without illumination they cannot be apprehended. Inner and outer mutually coordinate to accomplish the efficacy of illumination—this the sage cannot make identical: it is function. Although internally illuminating, it is unknowing; although externally real, it is ānimitta. Inner and outer are quiescent, mutually and together non-existent—this the sage cannot make different: it is quiescence. Therefore, when the sūtra says 'all dharmas are not different', does it mean that one must lengthen the duck's legs and shorten the crane's, or level the peaks and fill the valleys, before they are without difference? Truly, because difference is not different, though different they are not different. Hence the sūtra says: 'Extraordinary, World-Honoured One! Amidst dharmas that are not different, you expound the differences among dharmas.' It also says: 'Prajñā and all dharmas are neither of one mark nor of different marks.' This is indeed trustworthy.
First 35 of 96 passages. Read on