釋氏稽古略 3.61

3.61

Mingjie: The monk Mingjie of Puguang Monastery in Chang'an was surnamed Yao. By nature he was intelligent and acute, and was unrivaled in his time in zither, poetry, calligraphy, and painting. He always delighted in worldly snares and took no joy in the gates of the Way, becoming addicted to wine and dissolute in his passions. In the third year of Xianqing, the emperor completed the building of Ximing Monastery and ordered Dharma Master Lingrun to select people to reside in it. At that time, several officials together recommended Mingjie. Dharma Master Lingrun said: 'You gentlemen should seek those trained in morality, concentration, and wisdom who increase the fields of merit. How could a wine-drinker and painter be equal to such a weighty entrustment?' The officials withdrew in shame, and Mingjie harbored resentment. Soon after, the emperor recruited for the four civil-service subjects without distinguishing between religious and secular. Mingjie answered the summons, presented himself for the examination, and passed. Overjoyed beyond measure, he returned to secular life with many arrogant words. Before long he fell ill and saw dozens of men holding fierce torches coming to meet him. Mingjie was terrified; before he could finish speaking, he died. This was in the eighth month of that year. Later he appeared in a dream to the monk Zhizheng of Jingtu Monastery in Xiangzhou, saying: 'Mingjie had no meritorious karma from past lives and failed to obey the internal teachings; now I am suffering great punishment and am extraordinarily hungry and exhausted. If you have any sentiment for an old acquaintance, could you perhaps bestow a single meal?' Zhizheng agreed. Upon awakening, he prepared food for him. When he had just lain down that night, he saw Mingjie come to thank him in shame. Two years later, he appeared again in a dream to the painter Zhang Sheng, saying: 'Because I did not believe in the Buddha Dharma, I am now suffering great pain. Please strive to copy two or three fascicles of scriptures for me.' Holding his hand earnestly, he composed a poem to bid farewell and taught the painter to read it eighteen times so that he would remember it. Upon awakening, the painter recalled his poem: / 'Holding hands, I cannot part; / Clasping my breast, I grieve for myself. / How painful that worldly time is so fleeting! / How sorrowful that the road to the underworld is so long! / The pine forest is startled by the wild wind; / Upon the desolate mound falls the cold frost. / What can I give you at parting? / Keep your mind on the internal canonical chapters.' / The painter was originally illiterate, so he hired someone to record it and show it to Mingjie's close friends. They all said: 'This is unmistakably Mingjie's literary style.' None who saw or heard of it failed to be deeply moved with sorrow (seen in Fayuan zhulin and Mingbao lu).