付法藏因緣傳 6.2

6.2

When the Bodhisattva Nāgārjuna was about to depart this world, he told his great disciple Kāṇadeva: "Good man, listen. The Buddha, with great compassion pitying living beings, expounded the flavour of ambrosia to benefit future generations. It was transmitted successively down to me. Now, as I wish to depart this world, I entrust it to you. You must disseminate it and wholeheartedly receive and uphold it." Deva reverently assented: "I will uphold the Venerable One's teaching." Thereupon he proclaimed the true treasure of the Dharma, defeating divergent schools with the power of his wisdom. His vast knowledge and extensive reading, as well as his talent and eloquence, were supreme. Renowned throughout the world, he walked alone above all realms. Originally he had been born in the land of South India into a brāhmaṇa clan, noble and eminent. Because he gave away his eye to a deity, he ended up with only one eye, and for this reason he was named Kāṇadeva. His wisdom was profound and far-reaching, his acumen shining from within. Looking back and observing himself, he felt no shame in his heart. Yet because his words were not yet believed and accepted by people, and the transforming influence of the Way was not spreading, he grieved and worried day and night. In that country there was a deity whose image was cast in gold, standing sixty feet high, and whom all called the Great Īśvara. To those who made vows, he caused immediate recompense to be obtained. Deva went to the temple asking to enter and pay homage. The temple keeper said: "The celestial image is most spiritual. Anyone who sees it dares not gaze directly at it, and moreover is made to recoil and lose his wits for a hundred days. You should only approach the gate to make your prayer. What more do you seek that you wish to see him?" Deva answered: "If the deity is truly like this, then I wish to see him. If he were not like this, he would not be what I desire." When the people of that time heard this, they all marvelled at his intention, and several tens of millions of people followed him into the temple. When Deva arrived, he bowed his head in homage. The deity moved his eyes and looked at him with an angry glare. Deva said: "The deity is indeed spiritual. Yet viewing him now, he is exceedingly base and inferior. Now, one who is a deity ought to subdue the various kinds [of beings] by means of spiritual power, yet you borrow gold and crystal as adornment. Deluding the people and creatures—how utterly petty!" He then climbed a high ladder and gouged out the deity's eye. At that time, all the onlookers felt doubt: "The majesty and virtue of the Great Īśvara is high and vast. How could he be desecrated and humiliated by this petty brāhmaṇa? Could it be that that deity's reputation exceeds his reality?" Then Deva instructed the crowd, saying: "The deity's spiritual brilliance is far and great; it was an immediate circumstance to test me. Because I deeply understood the thoughts in his mind, I climbed the mound of gold and extracted the crystal jewel, so that all might understand that a spiritual power that is pure does not rely on physical form. Since I was not arrogant, how could the deity be humiliated?" Having spoken these words, he left the temple. That very night he sought out all offerings, and at dawn the next day he reverently made sacrifice to the deity. Kāṇadeva's reputation and virtue were long-established, and his wisdom communed with the divine; whatever words he uttered were met with an unfailing response. In the space of one night, the implements of offering were fully prepared. The Great Īśvara assumed a body of flesh, several tens of feet high, with his left eye withered and hollowed. He walked slowly and calmly, coming to take his seat. Looking all around at the delicacies, he marvelled that such had never occurred before, praising his power of virtue that could bring such about, and told him: "Excellent, Great Being! You have deeply fathomed my mind and made offerings with wisdom. You are now truly one who reveres and believes in me. The people of the world are foolish; they apprehend only my physical form and present food out of fear, thus slandering me. Now you have made an offering of food, complete with fine flavours; it would be proper for my left eye to be bestowed upon me. If you can give it to me, that will be a truly supreme gift." Deva answered: "Splendid, I accept your teaching." He then took out his eye with his left hand and gave it to him. By the divine power of the deity, as soon as an eye was taken out, another grew in its place. The deity demanded them without ceasing, and Deva took out several tens of thousands of eyes. The deity praised him, saying: "Excellent, young brāhmaṇa! This is truly a supreme gift. Whatever vow you wish to seek, I will surely fulfil your desire." At that time Deva said to the deity: "I seek clear knowledge, not relying on anything external. My only regret is that no one believes and accepts my teaching. I wish only that my words will surely spread in the future." The deity said: "Very good!" and then arose and withdrew. Thereupon Deva went to Nāgārjuna, shaved his hair and beard, and received the rules of renunciation. Traveling about, he propagated the transformation and widely saved living beings. The king of South India ruled over all the lands. Harbouring an arrogant mind, he trusted and used heterodox ways, not allowing a single Śākyan monk to be seen, and the people of the country far and wide all accepted his influence. Deva thought: "If the tree's trunk is not felled, its branches are difficult to bring down. If the ruler of men is not transformed, how can the Way be disseminated?" The political law of that country was that the royal house disbursed money to hire people for the night guard. At that time Deva answered the levy to become a soldier, bearing a halberd and riding at the fore. Disciplining the troops with majesty, virtue, kindness, and benevolence, all took joy in his governance. The king praised his dedication and asked: "What sort of person is this attendant?" They answered: "This person answered the levy, yet he neither eats his rations nor takes wages. In service he is respectful and cautious, and by nature he loves quiet reflection. We do not yet understand his mind, or what he seeks and desires." The king immediately summoned him and asked him fully about his intention. He answered: "Great King, I am a wise man, skilled in debate. I wish to seek a test before the king." The king then granted it, erecting a debate seat for him. At that time Deva established three theses: "Among all holy ones, the Buddha is the most extraordinary; among all teachings, the Buddha-Dharma is incomparable; and as a field of merit to save the world, the Saṅgha is foremost. If debaters from the eight directions can refute these words, I will cut off my head to apologize for my defeat. Why is that? To fail to establish a principle clearly is foolishness; a head such as this is not something I would begrudge." Debaters from the eight directions all gathered like clouds, and each also said: "If I am defeated, I will cut off my head to apologize; a foolish head is not something I hold dear." Deva told them: "The Dharma I cultivate is humane and gives life to all things. As a condition, if you are inferior, your hair will be shaved and you will become my disciples; your heads will not be severed." Having established this agreement, they debated the principles together. Those among the non-Buddhists whose sentiment and wisdom were shallow were immediately defeated and choked upon a single word. Those with superior wisdom lasted up to two days, but their words and reasoning both ran out. Their hair was shaved and all were ordained. At that time there was a disciple of a non-Buddhist, fierce, stubborn, and devoid of wisdom, who was ashamed of his master's defeat. Although his body followed the multitude, resentment and rage harboured within his mind. With venom blazing fiercely, he bit his knife and swore to himself: "His mouth conquered my master; my knife will subdue you!" Having spoken these words, grasping a sharp knife, he constantly watched day and night for an opportunity. At that time Deva was staying in a secluded forest, composing the Śataka Śāstra to refute erroneous views. His disciples were scattered under the trees, contemplating. The Bodhisattva Deva arose from samādhi to do caṅkrama. The disciple of the non-Buddhist went to his place and held the knife to confront him: "In the past you used wisdom to subdue my master; now I will use a knife to rip open your belly!" He immediately tore it open, and his five viscera spilled out, yet his life had not yet ceased. Pitying his madness and folly, Deva told him: "I have robes and a bowl at my seat; you may take them and quickly go up the mountain. If those among my disciples who have not yet attained the Way happen to meet you, they will certainly seize you, or send you to the king, causing you no small distress. The body and reputation are the root of many afflictions; now, deluded, your feelings of attachment to them are deep. Therefore, you should protect yourself well." At that time, among the disciples, those who arrived first saw their master and let out a sorrowful cry. Gathering all the disciples, they rushed together like clouds, terrified and wailing, rolling on the ground. Among them, some ran about wildly, dividing up to intercept the vital roads. At that time Deva said to the multitude: "All phenomena are inherently empty, without self and without what belongs to self. There is neither one who can harm nor one who receives [harm]. Who is kin and who is foe? Who is the tormentor? You are now covered by folly, generating false views in vain and planting unwholesome roots. What that man harmed was my past retribution; it did not kill me." Thereupon he released his body, casting it off like a cicada's shell, and passed away. Before Kāṇadeva relinquished his body, he told the Venerable Rāhula: "The Buddha, the Bhagavat, in order to cross living beings over, expounded the wondrous Dharma to benefit future generations. It was entrusted successively down to me. When I have passed away, it should be given to you. You must protect and uphold the jewel-treasury of profound sūtras, so that all living beings may universally receive benefit." Rāhula said: "Splendid, I accept your teaching." Later, he set forth and expounded the profound sūtras and wondrous Dharma, using the power of his wisdom to destroy heterodox ways. Hearing the Dharma preached three times, he was able to retain it all. Nāgārjuna, Deva, and this Great Being all had renowned virtue and their good fame was heard together. At that time, there was a brāhmaṇa, intelligent and unusually perceptive, skilled in debate. He composed a book of names of spirits that was exceedingly difficult to understand, whose words and phrases were extensive, amounting to one hundred thousand verses. He recited it in praise for the three Great Beings. Nāgārjuna, upon hearing it once, immediately attained understanding and was well able to remember and retain it as if he had recited and practiced it of old. Deva, not yet understanding it, had it expounded for him again, and having heard it a second time, he too clearly understood it. The Bodhisattva Deva further extensively differentiated and expounded its verses and phrases for Rāhula, and upon hearing it, Rāhula's mind opened to comprehension. Then the brāhmaṇa was greatly astonished: "The talent and wisdom of these monks is such that reading this book of mine, they quickly mastered it, and are well able to analyze it as if it were an old study!" He immediately submitted in faith and corrected his erroneous mind. That Rāhula was intelligent like this, and possessed skillful means to teach and transform living beings. Afterward, he entrusted the Dharma to the Venerable Saṅghanandi, causing him to disseminate it and benefit living beings. Saṅghanandi possessed great merit and virtue; his wisdom was profound, and he cultivated the bodhisattva conduct. Adorning himself with firm vows, he surpassed the realm of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas. Once there was an arhat who had laid down the heavy burden and was complete in all virtues. Saṅghanandi, wishing to test him, recited a verse to question him: