付法藏因緣傳 5.2

5.2

When Śāṇakavāsin was approaching nirvāṇa, he entrusted the Dharma to Upagupta and spoke these words: “Formerly, the Bhagavat entrusted the unsurpassed Dharma to the Venerable Mahākāśyapa, desiring to cause sentient beings to hold the great blazing torch, leave all suffering forever, and attain the bliss of nirvāṇa. Kāśyapa next entrusted it to my teacher Ānanda, and Ānanda in turn entrusted it to me. Now that I am about to attain extinction, I entrust it to you. If later you wish to enter nirvāṇa, in the state of Mathurā there is a good man who will appear in the world, named Dhītika. He has long cultivated vows and practices, and his eloquence is inexhaustible. Later you should deliver him and let him leave the household life, and you may fully entrust the eye of the Dharma to him.” Upagupta said: “So it shall be; I receive your instruction.” When the Venerable Upagupta's conditions for teaching were drawing to an end and his mind wished to enter nirvāṇa, he observed whether Dhītika had yet appeared in the world. Reflecting, he knew that he had not yet appeared in the world. At that time, the Venerable Upagupta led an assembly of monks to visit his father's house, and gradually [their number] grew fewer, until he was all alone. His father, an elder, asked him: “Great Sage, do you have no followers? Why do you walk alone?” Upagupta replied: “Elder, I am one who has left the household life and have no attendants. If there were someone, you might bestow him upon me.” The elder spoke again: “I delight in living at home and cannot practice the Path. If a son is born to me later, I will certainly offer him to you.” Upagupta said: “Excellent is this intention! Keep this mind, and do not let it change or regret.” This elder then fathered several sons, but while all were still young boys, they immediately passed away. His last-born son was named Dhītika. His appearance was grand and remarkable, and he was clever and astute, good at learning and receiving all treatises, scriptures, and records. In the past, he had practiced and deeply planted roots of goodness. Upagupta went to ask for him. The elder was filled with joy, personally delivered him by hand, and brought him to the monastery, where [Upagupta] allowed him to leave the household life. When he reached twenty years of age, he conferred full ordination upon him. At the initial announcement (jñapti), he severed the fetters of seeing the truth and attained [the fruit of] a srotāpanna. At the first motion (karmavācanā), lust, anger, and delusion were diminished, and he obtained [the fruit of] a sakṛdāgāmin. At the second motion, his fetters of the desire realm were exhausted, and he attained [the fruit of] an anāgāmin. At the third motion, he instantly severed the afflictions of the three realms, established the brahma-practice, and became an arhat. His threefold vision shone afar, he was fully endowed with the six supernormal knowledges, and he walked, appeared, and vanished with unhindered freedom. Upagupta then told him: “The Sun of Wisdom, the World-Honored One, covered all universally with loving-kindness and compassion. Desiring to save sentient beings from the great suffering of birth and death, he entrusted the Dharma accumulated over immeasurable kalpas to the Venerable Mahākāśyapa to serve as a great bright lamp illuminating all darkness of ignorance, causing all universally to cultivate and learn, cut off the net of craving, and emerge from the mire of desire. Kāśyapa next entrusted it to the monk Ānanda. After Ānanda attained extinction, he entrusted it to my teacher Śāṇakavāsin, and Śāṇakavāsin entrusted it to me. Continuing thus, they constantly turned the wheel of the Dharma, sprinkling the flavor of the sweet nectar to heal the thirst of affliction. But now, that which I was to do has already been accomplished; the time of nirvāṇa has arrived, and extinction is not far. I take this Dharma-treasure and entrust it to you. You may later receive, hold, and uphold it, diligently guard and protect it, let it not be leaked or lost, and proclaim the light of the Dharma to illuminate the darkness of folly. Furthermore, Dhītika, after the Tathāgata entered nirvāṇa, the worthy and the noble faded away; all profound scripture-treasuries will gradually decline and fall into oblivion on earth, and the world will be plunged into darkness, transmigrating in birth and death. Why is this? Formerly, after my teacher Śāṇakavāsin entered extinction, the full seventy-seven thousand Jātaka sūtras, the ten thousand Abhidharma-piṭakas, and altogether eighty thousand pure Vinayas—dharmas such as these all diminished accordingly. When one person enters nirvāṇa, the many dharmas decline; how much more so when many worthy and noble ones have all entered extinction together, so that the pure, wondrous, and supreme Dharma will be left with no remainder! For this reason, I now earnestly entrust it to you. You must single-mindedly respect and comply with my intention, give rise to the thought of great compassion toward all sentient beings, receive and preserve it, and disseminate it, never letting it be broken off.” Dhītika said: “I reverently receive your honored instruction. I will protect such true Dharma and serve as an uninvited friend to future generations.” Thereupon, he next proclaimed the unsurpassed flavor of the Dharma. Those he converted and delivered were exceedingly vast and extensive. When his conditions came to an end, he entered nirvāṇa, and humans and devas were moved to grief. They then collected his śarīra, erected a seven-jeweled stūpa, burned incense, scattered flowers, and made various offerings. Formerly, when Dhītika was approaching extinction, he entrusted the Dharma to his foremost disciple, named Micchaka, who was widely learned, broadly accomplished, and possessed of great eloquence, telling him: “The Buddha entrusted the true Dharma to Mahākāśyapa, and it was transmitted successively down to me. As I am about to enter nirvāṇa, I entrust it to you. You should later disseminate the eye of the world.” Micchaka said: “Excellent, I receive your instruction.” Thereupon, he proclaimed and spread the true Dharma-treasure, opening the path of nirvāṇa for all sentient beings. When his conditions for teaching were fulfilled and he was about to enter extinction, he in turn entrusted the true Dharma to the Venerable Buddhanandi, telling him to disseminate the supreme flavor of sweet nectar. Afterwards, Buddhanandi broadly proclaimed and distinguished it, turning the great wheel of the Dharma and subduing the foes of Māra. Later, he entrusted it to Buddhamitra. That man’s virtuous power was exceedingly deep and measureless. With skillful means, he transformed sentient beings, causing them to leave behind evil views and proceed toward the most supreme Path. Adorning himself with great wisdom, he expounded the pure flavor and destroyed the heterodox schools. His merits were inexhaustible like this; I shall now follow along and recount a small fraction of them. There was a great king who held sway over the whole world, possessed of superior talent, courage, and broad learning, who venerated heterodox schools and faithfully accepted evil views, constantly harboring contempt and disparagement toward the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṅgha. Buddhamitra reflected: “My teacher Buddhanandi entrusted the Dharma to me. How shall I expound the supreme eye so that sentient beings may universally attain benefit?” He reflected again: “Now this king has exceedingly great evil views. It is fitting that I first go and tame him. It is like cutting down a tree: if its root is felled, how could its branches, leaves, flowers, and stems stand for long?” Having had this thought, for twelve years he personally carried a red banner and walked before the king. After much time had passed, the king did not ask at all. After this had passed, he suddenly asked: “Who is this person walking before me?” He immediately summoned him and asked his intent. He answered: “Great King, I am a wise man, skilled in disputation. I wish to seek a trial before the King.” At that time, the Great King immediately issued an order throughout the realm that all brāhmaṇas, elders, and householders who were intelligent, erudite, and skilled in speech should assemble in his hall of righteous victory to engage in debate with a śramaṇa. Thereupon, all the non-Buddhists of evil views, who had deep and far-reaching eloquence, broad wisdom, and thorough mastery of astronomy and geography, gathered like clouds in rivalry, harboring minds of anger and poison. At that time, the Great King arranged offerings, spread mats and cushions, burned incense, and scattered flowers in the main hall, making it magnificent, bright, and clean. Buddhamitra then ascended the Dharma seat and established unrestricted propositions together with all the non-Buddhists. Those of shallow wisdom were refuted at a single word; those of much intelligence and eloquence exhausted their words at the second. Seeing that all the men’s reasoning was exhausted, the king personally engaged in debate with Buddhamitra, but as soon as he opened his discourse, he too was promptly refuted. Buddhamitra then thought: “When debating with the king, I should not openly display victory.” So he spoke to him: “The king himself understands the depth and shallowness of this meaning.” At that time, the king realized his own defeat, turned back and altered his evil mind, reverently believed in the true Dharma, received the three refuges to become a disciple of the Buddha, and promoted moral transformation throughout his realm. At that time in this country, there was a Nirgrantha whose evil views were ablaze, who reviled the true Dharma, possessed sharp eloquence and intelligence, and was skilled in calculation and mathematics. Wishing to transform him, Buddhamitra went to become his disciple to receive this art from him. Before long, he had studied and completely mastered it. That Nirgrantha uttered loud and evil words, reviling and insulting the Buddha. Buddhamitra told the Nirgrantha: “Do not utter such words; they will cause you to incur sin. This retribution will certainly cause you to fall into the great hells.” The Nirgrantha said: “How could you know such a thing?” Buddhamitra replied: “If you do not believe me, you may calculate it yourself. After you have calculated, you will personally verify and know it.” At that time, that Nirgrantha made his own calculations, and immediately saw that his own body would certainly fall into hell. He was thereupon greatly terrified and gave rise to deep sorrow and remorse. Throwing his five limbs to the ground before Buddhamitra, he said: “Benevolent one, how may I escape this fault?” Buddhamitra told him: “Nirgrantha, just as one who falls to the ground gets up by relying on the ground itself, if you take refuge in the Buddha, this sin can be extinguished.” At that time, the Nirgrantha gave rise to great faith, praised the Tathāgata with five hundred verses, repented of his former sins, and severely reproached himself. Buddhamitra then told him: “By virtue of this mind and good karma, when your life ends, you will certainly be born in heaven.” The Nirgrantha said again: “How do you know that I will attain birth in heaven?” Buddhamitra told him: “If you do not believe, calculate it yourself to seek the truth.” At that time, the Nirgrantha immediately performed the calculation, saw for himself that his sins were extinguished and that he would be born in heaven, and thereupon, in great joy, begged to leave the household life. Buddhamitra replied: “Today you should inform your relatives and followers, and only then will I deliver you to leave the household life.” The Nirgrantha had five hundred disciples. He went to their dwelling and told them: “I have seen the supreme principle, and my heart delights in it exceedingly. I wish to leave the household life in the Buddha's Dharma to practice the Path. You may now do as you please, or rely on another enlightened teacher to consult and receive the supreme Dharma.” At that time, all the disciples addressed their teacher: “Originally we looked up to you like a great canopy of clouds. If our master enters the supreme Path, our minds wish to follow.” At that time, that Nirgrantha together with the five hundred people went to the Venerable One's dwelling and left the household life together. Thereupon, the Venerable Buddhamitra’s fine reputation spread throughout Jambudvīpa. When the conditions came to an end for the immeasurable sentient beings he had taught, he relinquished his life; his disciples were moved to grief, collected his śarīra, and erected a stūpa to make offerings. Formerly, when the Venerable Buddhamitra’s conditions for teaching were fulfilled and he was about to relinquish his lifespan, he told a disciple named Monk Pārśva: “You should later broadly expound the holy teachings, transforming sentient beings so that they attain liberation.” He said: “Great Master, I reverently receive your honored instruction; I will single-mindedly guard and protect the true Dharma.” Because of his past karma, that Monk Pārśva had remained in his mother’s womb for more than sixty years. When he was born, his beard and hair were already white. Detesting the five desires and finding no joy in domestic life, he went to the Venerable Buddhamitra, bowed down, paid homage at his feet, and sought to be ranked among the followers of the Path. [Buddhamitra] immediately delivered him to leave the household life and expounded the essentials of the Dharma for him. Just as clean, white cloth easily takes dye, he attained the path of an arhat right upon his seat. His threefold vision was thoroughly illuminating, his six supernormal knowledges were unhindered, and he diligently practiced austerities with vigorous zeal, never lying down with his ribs touching the ground. People of the time called him Monk Pārśva (Ribs). He was skilled at preaching the essentials of the Dharma to transform sentient beings; when that which he was to do was accomplished, he entered nirvāṇa. They collected his śarīra and erected a stūpa to make offerings. When that Monk Pārśva was approaching extinction, he told a monk named Puṇyayaśas: “Āyusmat, you should know that the Buddha's Dharma is subtle, wonderful, and possessed of great merit, which is why all the noble ones carry it upon their heads and uphold it. Having received the entrustment, I have guarded this Dharma. Now that I am about to enter nirvāṇa, I entrust it to you. You should single-mindedly protect, receive, and uphold it.” Puṇyayaśas replied: “So it shall be.” Thereupon, he expounded and proclaimed the subtle, wonderful, and supreme Dharma, converting and delivering immeasurable sentient beings. Later, at one time, while sitting cross-legged in quiet contemplation under a secluded grove, there was a great being named Aśvaghoṣa, whose wisdom was deep and discerning, and whose understanding was supreme and peerless. Whatever challenges were posed, none failed to be demolished by him, just as a fierce wind uproots rotted trees. Giving rise to great arrogance, he viewed all living beings as grass and mustard seeds; positing a truly existent self, he was exceedingly proud. Hearing that there was a venerable one named Puṇyayaśas of profound wisdom, broad learning, and great discernment, who spoke of all dharmas as empty, without self, and without a person, he harbored a contemptuous mind, went to his dwelling, and spoke these words: “All discourses in the world I can destroy like hail crushing grass. If these words are false and untrue, I will surely cut off my tongue to apologize for my defeat.” Puṇyayaśas said: “In the Buddha’s Dharma, there are altogether two truths: from the perspective of conventional truth, there is the provisional name ‘self’; from the perspective of ultimate truth, everything is empty and tranquil. Examining it in this way, how can a self be found?” At that time, Aśvaghoṣa's mind was not yet subdued; relying on his own sharp intellect, he still considered himself superior. Puṇyayaśas told him: “Reflect carefully and do not speak empty words. Between you and me, who is determined to be the victor?” Thereupon, Aśvaghoṣa reflected: “The provisional designation of conventional truth is definitely not real; the nature of ultimate truth is furthermore empty and tranquil. These two truths are both unattainable. Since nothing exists, how can it be refuted? Today I am definitely not his match.” He then wished to cut off his tongue to apologize for his defeat. Puṇyayaśas said: “My Dharma is benevolent and compassionate; I will not cut off your tongue. You should shave your hair and become my disciple.” At that time, the Venerable One delivered him to leave the household life. His mind was still ashamed and resentful, and he wished to abandon his life. At that time, Puṇyayaśas had attained the path of an arhat; entering absorption to observe, he knew the thoughts in his mind. The Venerable One had a sutra that was previously kept in a dark room, and he immediately ordered Aśvaghoṣa to go there and fetch it. He said to the Great Master: “This room is dark and gloomy; how can I go?” He replied: “Just go; I will make you see.” At that time, the Venerable One, by his supernormal power, extended his right hand from afar straight into the room; his five fingers emitted light, and its brilliance shone brightly, so that everything in the room became clearly visible. At that time, Aśvaghoṣa suspected in his heart that this was an illusion. As a rule, illusions disappear when recognized, yet this light became all the more blazing. He exhausted his arts wishing to extinguish this light, but after tiring himself out, there was no change at all. Knowing that it was done by his teacher, he was immediately subdued, diligently practiced austerities, and never retrogressed again. Thus, the Venerable One used skillful means to deliver sentient beings, and having done what was to be done, entered nirvāṇa. The fourfold assembly, filled with grief and longing, erected a stūpa to make offerings. Formerly, when Puṇyayaśas approached nirvāṇa, he entrusted the Dharma to his disciple Aśvaghoṣa and said to him: “Just as when a great bright lamp is lit in a dark room, all objects are clearly illuminated, the bright lamp of the Dharma is also like this: spreading in the world, it can extinguish the darkness of folly. For this reason, the Tathāgata expounded this true Dharma, universally causing all to practice it. All the worthy and noble ones have constantly guarded it, entrusting it to one another down to me. I take this supreme eye and entrust it to you. You should later single-mindedly receive and preserve it, so that future generations may universally attain benefit.” Aśvaghoṣa reverently agreed: “I will receive your honored instruction.” Thereupon, he promulgated the profound Dharma-treasury, erected the great Dharma banner, and demolished evil views. Traveling and teaching in Pāṭaliputra, wishing to deliver the sentient beings of that city, he composed wondrous music called Rāṣṭrapāla. Its sound was pure, elegant, sorrowful, and harmonious, proclaiming the teaching of suffering, emptiness, and selflessness—namely, that conditioned things are like illusions and transformations; that the prison of the three realms holds nothing delightful; that though royal status is exalted and mighty power is sovereign, when impermanence arrives, who can endure? They are like clouds in the sky, scattering and disappearing in an instant. This body is false and deceptive, like a plantain tree; it is an enemy and a thief that cannot be approached; it is like a basket of venomous serpents—who could delight in it? Therefore, all Buddhas constantly reproach this body. Extensively expounding the meaning of emptiness and selflessness in this way, he had the musicians perform this music. At that time, the musicians could not understand, and the melodies and rhythms were all discordant. At that time, Aśvaghoṣa, wearing white cotton robes, went into the midst of the musicians, personally beat the drums, and tuned the zithers and lutes; the rhythms were sorrowful and elegant, the melodies achieved perfection, and he expounded that all dharmas are suffering, empty, and without self. At that time, five hundred princes in this city attained awakening at the same moment, detested the five desires, and left the household life to practice the Path. At that time, the king of Pāṭaliputra feared that if his people heard this music, they would abandon their families and the realm, leaving the country desolate and ruining the royal enterprise. He immediately issued an order to the people of his land: “From now on, do not perform this music again.” That city of Pāṭaliputra had altogether nine hundred million people. The king of the Yuezhi, blazing with majesty and virtue, was named Candana Kaniṣka. His spirit was heroic and mighty, his valor surpassing the world; wherever he went on expedition, none failed to collapse before him. He then arrayed the fourfold army and marched against this country; after fighting with one another, [the city] surrendered. He then demanded nine hundred million gold coins. At that time, that king took Aśvaghoṣa, the Buddha’s bowl, and a compassionate rooster—each deemed equivalent to three hundred million—and offered them to King Kaniṣka: Bodhisattva Aśvaghoṣa’s wisdom was extraordinary; the Buddha's bowl had the merit of being held by the Tathāgata; the rooster had a compassionate mind and would not drink water containing insects; and all three were able to eliminate all enemies. For these reasons, they were worth nine hundred million coins. The king was greatly delighted, accepted them, and immediately turned his army around to return to his own country. That King Kaniṣka possessed great merit, donned the armor of the great vow, and his aspiration was firm. He once placed a lump of mud upon a stūpa and made a vow, saying: “If in a future life I attain correct enlightenment among the thousand Buddhas, may this lump of mud turn into a Buddha image!” Having made this vow, it immediately succeeded at that moment, its appearance extraordinary, like a painted picture. His heart was filled with great joy and measureless leaping ecstasy. Later, while traveling along the road, the king saw a non-Buddhist stūpa adorned with the seven jewels. Greatly delighted, he thought it was a Tathāgata stūpa, stepped forward, bowed, paid homage with utmost reverence, burned incense, scattered flowers, and spoke a gāthā in praise: