緇門警訓 3.3

3.3

古之學道之士。灰心泯志於深山幽谷之間。穴土以為廬紉草以為衣。掬溪而飲。煮藜而食。虎豹之與隣。猿狙之與親。不得已而聲名腥薌文彩發露。則枯槁同志之士不遠千里。𮖐糧躡屩來從之游。道人深拒而不受也。則為之樵蘇。為之舂炊。為之洒掃。為之刈植。為之給侍奔走。凡所以效勞苦致精一。積月累歲不自疲厭。覬師見而愍之。賜以一言之益。而超越死生之岸。烏有今日所謂堂殿宮室之華。床榻臥具之安。氈幄之溫。簟席之涼。窓牖之明。巾單之潔。飲食之盛。金錢之饒。所須而具所求而獲也哉。嗚呼古之人吾不得而見之矣。因永安禪院之新其僧堂也。得以發吾之緒言。元祐六年冬十一月。吾行郡過臨川。聞永安主僧老病物故。以兜率從悅之徒。了常繼之。常陞座說法。有陳氏子一歷耳根。生大欣慰。謂常曰。諦觀師誨。前此未聞。當有淨侶雲集而僧堂狹陋。何以待之。願出家貲百萬。為眾更造。明年堂成。高廣宏曠殆甲江右。常遣人來求文曰。公迫常於山而及此也。幸卒成之。吾使謂常擊鼓集眾。以吾之意。而告之曰。汝比丘此堂既成。坐臥經行惟汝之適。汝能於此帶刀而眠。離諸夢想。則百丈即汝。汝即百丈。若不然者。昏沈睡眠毒蛇伏心。暗冥無知晝入幽瓖。汝能於此跏趺宴坐。深入禪定則空生即汝。汝即空生。若不然者。獼猴在檻外覩樝栗。雜想變亂坐化異類。汝能於此橫經而誦研味聖意。因漸入頓因頓入圓。則三藏即汝。汝即三藏。若不然者。春禽晝啼秋虫夜鳴。風氣所使曾無意謂。汝能於此閱古人話。一見千悟。入紅塵裏轉大法輪。則諸祖即汝。汝即諸祖。若不然者。狗齧枯骨鴟啄腐鼠。鼓喙呀唇重增饑火。是故析為垢淨。列為因果。判為情想感為苦樂。漂流汩溺極未來際。然則作此堂者。有損有益。居此堂者。有利有害。汝等比丘宜知之。汝能斷毘盧髻。截觀音臂。刳文殊目。折普賢脛。碎維摩座。焚迦葉衣。如是受者。黃金為瓦。白銀為壁。汝尚堪任。何況一堂。戒之勉之。吾說不虛。了常諮參悅老十餘年。盡得其末後大事。蓋古德所謂金剛王寶劍云。元祐七年十二月十日南康赤烏觀雪夜擁爐書以為記。

In ancient times, scholars studying the Way deadened their minds and extinguished their ambitions amidst deep mountains and secluded valleys. They hollowed out the earth to make huts, wove grasses to make clothes, scooped from the mountain stream to drink, and boiled goosefoot to eat. Tigers and leopards were their neighbors; apes and monkeys were their companions. Only when unavoidable did their fragrance and fame spread and their literary radiance shine forth; then emaciated companions of like mind, not thinking a thousand li too far, would bundle their provisions and put on straw sandals to come follow and travel with them. When the person of the Way firmly rejected and would not receive them, they would gather firewood for him, pound grain and cook for him, sprinkle and sweep for him, reap and plant for him, and serve and run errands for him—all to offer their toil and bring about single-minded devotion. Months and years accumulated, yet they did not tire or weary themselves, hoping that the master would see them, take pity on them, and bestow upon them the benefit of a single word, thereby crossing beyond the shore of birth and death. How could there have been what is called today the magnificence of halls, pavilions, and palaces; the comfort of bed frames and bedding; the warmth of felt tents; the coolness of bamboo mats; the brightness of windows; the cleanliness of towels and cloths; the abundance of food and drink; and the plentifulness of gold and coins—having whatever is needed and obtaining whatever is sought? Alas! The ancients—I cannot see them! Now, because the Yong'an Chan Cloister has renovated its saṅgha hall, I am able to express my lingering thoughts. In the sixth year of the Yuanyou era, in the eleventh month of winter, I was inspecting the commandery and passed through Linchuan. I heard that the head monk of Yong'an, having grown old and sick, had passed away, and that Liaochang, a disciple of Congyue of Doushuai, had succeeded him. When Chang ascended the seat to preach the Dharma, a son of the Chen family heard it once pass through his ears and gave rise to great joy. He said to Chang: 'Discerning the master's instruction attentively, I have never heard such before. Pure companions will surely gather like clouds, but the saṅgha hall is cramped and humble; how can you host them? I wish to donate one million from my family wealth to rebuild it for the assembly.' The next year the hall was completed; its height, width, and spaciousness were perhaps the foremost in Jiangyou. Chang sent someone to request an essay, saying: 'You, Sir, pressed Chang in the mountains and brought about this [hall]. Fortunately, it has finally been completed.' I had [the messenger] tell Chang to strike the drum to gather the assembly, and in accordance with my intention, address them, saying: 'You bhikṣus! Now that this hall has been completed, sitting, lying down, and walking are entirely at your ease. If you can sleep here with a knife drawn, free from all dreams, then Baizhang is you, and you are Baizhang. If this is not so, torpor and sleep will be a venomous snake lurking in your heart, dark and ignorant, entering the underworld in broad daylight. If you can sit cross-legged in quietude here and deeply enter dhyāna-samādhi, then Subhūti is you, and you are Subhūti. If this is not so, you will be like a monkey in a cage seeing wild pears and chestnuts from the outside, your confused thoughts running wild, seated while turning into a different species. If you can open a scripture horizontally and recite it here, grinding and savoring the holy meaning, entering the sudden by means of the gradual, and entering the complete by means of the sudden, then the Tripiṭaka is you, and you are the Tripiṭaka. If this is not so, you will be like spring birds crying by day and autumn insects chirping by night, impelled by the seasonal air without any meaning whatsoever. If you can examine the sayings of the ancients here, awakening to a thousand upon seeing one, and enter the red dust to turn the great wheel of the Dharma, then all the patriarchs are you, and you are all the patriarchs. If this is not so, you will be like a dog gnawing a dry bone or an owl pecking a rotten rat, flapping your beak and opening your lips, only increasing the fire of hunger. Therefore, if you divide it into foul and pure, arrange it into cause and effect, distinguish it into feelings and thoughts, and respond to it as suffering and pleasure, you will drift and sink until the limit of the future. That being so, for those who made this hall, there is loss and there is benefit; for those who dwell in this hall, there is advantage and there is harm. You bhikṣus ought to know this! If you can sever the topknot of Vairocana, chop off the arm of Avalokiteśvara, gouge out the eyes of Mañjuśrī, break the shins of Samantabhadra, smash the seat of Vimalakīrti, and burn the robe of Kāśyapa—if you receive it like this, even if gold were made into tiles and white silver into walls, you would still be worthy of it, how much more so a single hall! Take warning and exert yourselves! My words are not empty. Liaochang consulted and inquired of Master Yue for more than ten years, fully grasping his ultimate great matter, which is what the ancient worthies called the treasure sword of the Vajra King.' Written by the fireside on a snowy night at the Chiwu Daoist Abbey in Nankang, on the tenth day of the twelfth month of the seventh year of the Yuanyou era, to serve as a record.