能顯中邊慧日論 1.3

1.3

Now, the paramārtha is without differentiation; hence sūtras and treatises set forth discourses on equality. The saṃvṛtisatya has distinctions; hence the holy ones disseminate discussions of the four and the one [vehicles]. Conforming to characteristics, principle and wisdom are divided like stars; returning to nature, mind and speech are both cut off. Either true or conventional, now real, now expedient—they measure the causes shown to adapt to sentient beings, and tally with capacities in leading to the fruits. Although the principle is one, receptive faculties are truly manifold; hence the twelve profound gates are further made to express identity and distinction, and the profound purports of the Tripiṭaka are elucidated either comprehensively or separately. Some grasp at tathatā to make it the janaka-hetu, or take the substance of the mind as the seed of all phenomena; blindly clinging to a single passage, they permit no distinction at all, and when encountering distinctions that are difficult to reconcile, they immediately designate them as Hīnayāna or expedient; they do not know that the Tathāgata possesses the powers of knowing faculties, natures, and so forth, and that sentient beings possess various realms (dhātus) and so on. Others stubbornly hold to separate elucidations, making everything non-uniform; whenever there is a discrepancy, they immediately claim it conforms to the nominal or conforms to the person; they do not know that the World-Honoured One possesses the intention of identical body (samam uccārayatīty abhiprāyaḥ), and that in reliance on tathatā there are aniyata-gotras and the like. Therefore, the śrāvaka was cross-examined because he did not recognize differences in capacity; the bodhisattva was reproved because he did not rely on the unity of principle. If one says that tathatā and the buddhadhātu are one, that all equally attain buddhahood, and that gotras are not distinct, then the parables of the four burdens and the three herbs would not hold. If one says that icchantikas and dviyāna followers entirely do not attain buddhahood and that each gotra is distinct, then the metaphors of the three carts and the two cities would not be established. Therefore, regarding the presence or absence of gotra in the realm of sentient beings: in terms of principle, it is pervasive, and all that have consciousness possess it; according to phenomenal distinctions, among those that have consciousness some have it and some do not; furthermore, among those that possess the gotra, there is the distinction between niyata and aniyata; among those without the gotra, there is also the difference between the temporary and the ultimate. For this reason, śrāvakas are spoken of as being of many types, and icchantikas are further expounded as being ever-drowned. Because of this, the vehicles are divided into one, two, three, or five, and the fruits are distinguished into ordinary, holy, expedient, or real; either it is said that all have the buddhadhātu and all will attain buddhahood, or it is said that there are those with and without the gotra, and not all will attain buddhahood. Furthermore, since the causes of buddhahood differ as conditioned and unconditioned, the fruit of buddhahood is also divided into eternal and impermanent; the name 'permanently abiding' is designated based on three meanings, and the title 'unconditioned' is established based on presence or absence. Some are confused about this wondrous purport and say that the three bodies of the Buddha are altogether motionless and unchanging; seeing the mention of 'unconditioned', they take the catvāri jñānāni to be without arising and ceasing. They do not know that these are all taught by the Samyaksaṃbuddha, relying on the fourfold saṃdhi and fourfold abhiprāya, whether according with himself or according with others. In the twelve divisions of teachings, the Buddha himself harmonized them; scattered throughout the various sūtras, they are generally difficult to fully investigate. Bodhisattva Maitreya extensively composed the Yogācārabhūmi to explain them, stating: 'There is no principle not investigated, no phenomenon not exhausted, no text not explained, no meaning not expounded, no clinging not refuted, no doubt not dispelled, no practice not cultivated, and no fruit not realized. It is specifically for bodhisattvas, so that they may attain skillfulness regarding the objects, practices, and fruits of all vehicles, diligently cultivate the great practice, realize great bodhi, and extensively teach sentient beings constantly and without error; it is concurrently for the other vehicles, so that they may cultivate their own shares of practice in reliance on their own dharmas and attain their own realizations of the fruits.' Masters such as Asaṅga either separately commented on a single work or comprehensively clarified the great intent, so that teachings and principles matched brilliantly, the fundamental and the secondary illuminating each other in turn. However, sentient beings are blind to the hidden intent, wishing to pour the great ocean into a small puddle; their minds are obscured regarding the jewel in the garment, lifting defiled food to cast into a precious vessel. They do not distinguish between the city-worth gem and a fish's eye, or between flowering plants and trees; they fail to differentiate between poison and clarified butter, or between sweet basil and stinkweed; relying on the light of a firefly, they point at the sun and moon; challenging a precious sword, they brandish a lead blade. Tāras are arbitrarily fixed in order, and the Dharma is rashly divided into revealed and esoteric. If these were to illuminate each other, the meaning would be grasped and the texts complied with; but when one truly clings to them as absolute truth, the words contradict and the principle is ruined. Though I am not clever, I have drunk from the waves of the ocean of Dharma; contemplating doubts concerning the splendid path, I harbor uncertainty about the southward-pointing compass that crosses the precipice. Having encountered these high discourses, I grasp my brush and step forward: gathering the subtle essences of the Tripiṭaka and drawing up the profound purports of the five vehicles, I reveal their hidden intents to tally with the grand path, briefly setting forth three chapters to open the minds of those not yet awakened. Although the text is not ornate, the principle is truly worthy of contemplation. I hope that those of profound discernment will scrutinize its import as in a mirror.