付法藏因緣傳 6.6

6.6

At that time, the master of the house came out to welcome him. He spread out rugs and cushions and invited him inside to sit down. Saṅghayaśas saw two pretas inside the house, naked, black, and emaciated, starved and exhausted. Their bodies and heads were shackled, each tied to a bed. There was also a bowl filled with fragrant rice, with a pitcher containing water placed beside it. Then the master took this food and offered it to the monk, saying: “Bhadanta, take care not to give this food to these pretas.” The monk, seeing their starvation and distress, then gave them a little rice. Having received the food, the spirits immediately vomited pus and blood, which flowed all over the ground and soiled the palace. Surprised, the monk asked him: “For what reason do these spirits undergo such retribution for their misdeeds?” The master replied: “In a past life, one of these spirits was my son, and the other was my daughter-in-law. When I formerly practiced generosity and performed merits, that couple was constantly harboring anger and stinginess. Though I admonished them many times, they would not accept it at all. Thereupon I made a vow, saying: ‘For such evil karma you will surely incur bad retribution! When you undergo your punishment, I shall watch you.’ Because of this cause and condition, they suffer this distress.” / Walking forward a little further, he reached another dwelling. The halls and pavilions were adorned with various wondrous things, filled with an assembly of monks walking in caṅkrama and meditating in dhyāna. When the time came, the mallet was struck to assemble for the meal. Just as the meal was about to finish, the delicacies turned into pus and blood. They then struck and hurled their bowls at one another, smashing their heads and faces. Blood flowed, soiling their bodies, and they cried out: “Why were we stingy with food, so that now we suffer this agony?” Saṅghayaśas stepped forward and asked them the reason. They answered: “Āyusmat, in our previous lives at the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, we dwelt together in one place. When visiting monks arrived, we all grew angry, hid and begrudged food and drink, and would not share it with them. Because of this cause, we now suffer this agony.” / Thus the venerable Saṅghayaśas traveled across the great ocean, observing everywhere. He saw five hundred hells in all. He thereupon gave rise to revulsion, deeply detesting the three realms of existence and reproaching the five desires. Overcome with dread, he thought: “The karma created in the world never perishes. Like a shadow following a form, who can escape it? I must now seek deliverance by skillful means.” Through the earnestness of his contemplation, he attained the path of the arhat, with the six supernormal knowledges unobstructed and the threefold vision clear and penetrating. / In a mountain forest there were five hundred ṛṣis diligently cultivating ascetic practices, aspiring to the blessings of Brahmā. Saṅghayaśas went to their place and proclaimed three verses for them, praising the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha. All five hundred ṛṣis attained stream-entry. Having thus extensively performed the Buddha's work and completed his converting of beings, the venerable one entered nirvāṇa. They gathered his śarīra and erected a stūpa to make offerings. / Before Saṅghayaśas passed into extinction, he entrusted the Dharma to Kumāralāta, saying to him: “The Buddha entrusted the true Dharma to Mahākāśyapa, and thus it was handed down until it reached me. Now, being about to enter nirvāṇa, I take it and entrust it to you. You should sincerely and diligently guard and preserve it.” Kumāralāta answered: “I receive your instruction.” / Thereupon he successively proclaimed the treasure-trove of the profound Dharma. His merits were profound and far-reaching; he made a great, vast vow to practice the bodhisattva path. His wisdom and eloquence were like the great ocean. In his youth, he already had fame, and the people of his state revered him. “Kumāralāta” means “Youth” (Tongzi) in the language of Qin. In his youth, he had a fine reputation. For what reason was he called “Fine Reputation”? An elder, traveling abroad on business, deposited two jars of gold with a relative and friend. One jar of gold was large, and the second was small. He told his relative and friend: “I wish to go abroad and leave these in your care. If my son desires either, you must surely give it to him.” Later, the elder's son went to ask for the gold. The relative and friend then returned the smaller one to him. The son became furious and refused to take the gold. Consequently, they brought the case before the magistrate, fully stating their intentions to seek a verdict. None of the judges could decide it. At that time Kumāralāta was still a youth. Playing along the road, he heard their dispute and said: “The son has obtained the gold; why toil in bitter strife? His father originally said to grant whatever the son desired. Now that he prefers the large one, it naturally belongs to him by principle.” The judges then followed his words. Thereupon his fame spread far and wide, and so he was called the “Youth of Fine Reputation.” / He left the household to study the path, his talent and wisdom surpassing the worldly. He reached a realm where the people were mostly stubborn and foolish; although they heard the Dharma teachings, they did not believe or accept them. Kumāralāta said to them: “You may now assemble ten thousand riders on iron-armored horses and have them ride past me.” In accordance with his words, they made full preparations. After Kumāralāta glanced at them for only an instant, he fully distinguished the names of the men, the colors of the horses, their clothing, and their appearances, reciting them all without a single error. Only then did the people of that realm submit with faith. He composed various sūtras and treatises, traveling and converting the world. Having completed what was to be done, he relinquished his life. / When Kumāralāta was on the verge of death, he addressed a monk named Jayata: “Āyusmat, you should know that just as a person crossing the ocean must rely on a boat or raft, so it is with sentient beings: wishing to leave the three realms, they must cultivate wholesome dharmas before they can escape. Therefore, I now wish to entrust the Dharma to you. You should study it well and bring benefit to humans and devas.” Jayata said: “Excellent! I receive your instruction.” He then expounded the profound Dharma, widely converting the world. / That Jayata had great merit. He was vigorous and courageous, diligently practicing austerities. He kept the prohibitive precepts well, without any fault. He was the final Vinaya master prophesied by the World-Honored One. / Once, there was a monk among the assembly whose sister-in-law came to the monastery bringing food to feed him. Flaring with lustful fire, they engaged in sexual intercourse. Having broken the grave precept, he immediately repented and reproached himself, giving rise to extreme shame and remorse: “Being exceedingly foolish, I committed this evil deed. I am certainly no longer a Śramaṇa or son of the Śākya.” He placed all his robes and bowl on a three-pronged staff, traveled everywhere, and cried out in a loud voice: “I am a sinful man; I should no longer wear the dyed robes of the Buddha's Dharma! My transgression is so heavy that I must enter hell. Where can I find rescue and protection?” Then Jayata spoke to the monk: “If you can now comply with my words, I shall cause your sin to be eradicated immediately.” The monk rejoiced and said: “I receive your instruction.” / Then Jayata, through his supernormal power, magically produced a fiery pit whose flames blazed fiercely, and instructed the monk to cast himself into it. At that time, to eradicate his sin, the monk threw his whole body into the great fiery pit. At that moment, the fierce flames turned into a clear stream, reaching only to his knees and causing him no harm at all. Then Jayata said to the monk: “Because of your wholesome mind and sincere repentance, all your sins are now destroyed.” He then preached the Dharma for him, and he attained the path of the arhat. For this reason, the world all called him the “Pure Precept-Keeper.” / At another time, leading his disciples, he traveled toward the city of Takṣaśilā. Upon arriving at that city, Jayata's expression grew sorrowful and his brow furrowed. The disciples wondered and asked their master the reason. He replied: “Wait a while; I shall explain it later.” / Advancing a little further along the road, they saw a crow. At that moment, the venerable one smiled with joy. The disciples asked their master again: “We pray that out of pity you will explain the cause and condition.” / Then Jayata told the assembly: “When I first arrived at the city, under the gate I saw a child of a preta, starved and emaciated, who came forward and said to me: ‘After my mother gave birth to me, she went into the city to seek food. Since we parted, full five hundred years have passed. Starved and destitute, my life will not last much longer. If you, Venerable One, enter the city and see my mother, please describe in full to her my hardships.’ / As soon as I entered the city, I saw the mother, and I described in full her son's starvation. Then the mother preta came forward and said to me: ‘Since entering the city, five hundred years have passed, yet I have never been able to obtain even a single person's phlegm or spittle. Why? Because having newly given birth, my strength was exhausted; even if I got a little spittle, other spirits would bully and snatch it from me. Only today did I happen upon one person's spittle; with no other spirits nearby, I managed to get it. I wish to go out of the city to share it with my son to eat, but under the gate there are many powerful spirits; fearing they will snatch it, I dare not go out. I pray only that the Venerable One will have pity and take me out of the city to meet my son.’ / At that time, I led the mother preta out of the city and let her eat with her son. I then asked her: ‘How long has it been since you were born?’ The spirit replied to me: ‘I have seen this city form and disintegrate seven times; the land was prosperous and joyful, its people thriving, and then I saw it ruined and completely destroyed without a trace.’ Hearing her words, I sighed deeply over how long and boundless the suffering of saṃsāra is. For this reason, my expression grew sorrowful and my brow furrowed. / As for the cause and condition of that crow, listen carefully, and I shall explain: Ninety-one kalpas ago in the past, Vipaśyin Buddha was in the world teaching and converting. At that time, I was the son of an elder; my mind was disgusted with the five desires, and I constantly thought of leaving the household. If I had become a Śramaṇa at that time, I would surely have severed all fetters and attained the path of the arhat. But my parents would not comply with my wish, forcibly arranging a marriage to cut off my intention. Not wishing to disobey their command, I took a wife. Having married, I wished to leave the household again. My parents said: ‘We arranged a marriage for you precisely to seek an heir. If you produce a son, only then will we let you go.’ I soon complied with their instruction, united with her, and had a boy. When he was six years old, the parents instructed the child: ‘If your father goes out wishing to become a Śramaṇa, you must embrace his feet and say to him: “If father abandons me, who will raise me? You must kill me first before you can go!”’ Then the child acted as his grandparents had taught, weeping and embracing me with great grief and attachment. At that time, out of affection and attachment, I said to the child: ‘For your sake, I shall no longer leave the household.’ / Because of that child, I failed to attain realization of the path, and for ninety-one kalpas I transmigrated through birth and death, never encountering him in the five paths of rebirth. Now, observing with the eye of the path, that crow was the son born to me in a previous life. Pitying his ignorance and long stay in saṃsāra, for this reason I smiled.” / Thus the venerable one was skilled at preaching the essentials of the Dharma, traveling and converting the world through the power of his eloquence. Having completed what was to be done, he entered parinirvāṇa. / When the venerable Jayata was about to pass into extinction, he addressed a monk named Vasubandhu: “Listen carefully now! Formerly, the Teacher of Gods and Humans, throughout immeasurable kalpas, diligently practiced austerities for the sake of the supreme, wondrous Dharma; now it has been fulfilled to benefit and bring peace to sentient beings. Having received the entrustment, I have guarded and upheld it with a sincere mind. Now I wish to commit it to you; you should deeply bear it in mind.” Vasubandhu said: “I receive your instruction.” / From then on, he propagated and illuminated the sūtra collection, adorning himself with such merits as the power of extensive learning, wisdom, and eloquence. Skilled at understanding the meaning of all sūtras, he explained and expounded them, widely converting sentient beings. Having completed what was to be done, he relinquished his life-faculties. / Next, it was entrusted to a monk named Manorhita, ordering him to spread the unsurpassed, supreme Dharma. That Manorhita had superior wisdom, had few desires, knew contentment, diligently practiced austerities, and his words were pithy and wondrous, pleasing to all minds. He was well able to comprehend the meaning of the Tripiṭaka, and brought great benefit to South India. / At that time there was a venerable one named Yaśas, whose eloquence and wisdom were sharp and penetrating, profound and vast; his merits were equal to those of Manorhita, and he too could comprehend the meaning of the Tripiṭaka. His renown spread abroad, and all revered him. Once, Manorhita went to North India. The venerable Yaśas said to him: “In the two Indian realms south of the Ganges, people hold many wrong views, but their intellects are sharp and eloquent. Āyusmat, you are well versed in treatises on phonology and debate; you may travel and convert in that land, while I shall bring benefit and peace to sentient beings here.” Manorhita then acted according to his words, going to the two Indian realms, where he widely proclaimed the treatise on the selflessness of the skandhas, subduing all heretical and wrong views. Having accomplished what was to be done, he relinquished his body and passed away. / After this, there was next a venerable one named Haklenayaśas who appeared in the world. Receiving the entrusted Dharma, he proclaimed and spread it widely. His blessings and merits were profound and far-reaching, his talent and insight vast and comprehensive, converting those bewildered in the world and guiding them toward the correct path. Having completed what was to be done, he then relinquished his body. / There was also a monk named Siṃha, who performed great Buddha-work in the kingdom of Kaśmīra. At that time, the king of that country was named Mihirakula. His wrong views were rampant, and his mind held no reverence or faith. In Kaśmīra, he destroyed stūpas and monasteries, and murdered monks. He then cut off Siṃha's head with a sharp sword. From his neck there was no blood, only milk flowing forth. With this, the succession of those entrusted with the Dharma came to an end. / Such Dharma is a great, bright lamp, capable of illuminating the darkness of worldly ignorance. Therefore, the worthy and holy ones above all carried it on their heads, received, kept, and guarded it, entrusting it to one another and constantly turning the wheel of the Dharma, producing great benefit for sentient beings, blocking the evil paths and opening the way to human and heavenly rebirths. When it finally arrived at the end, this Dharma declined and was destroyed; the worthy and holy ones disappeared, and none could establish it. The world grew dark and benighted, permanently losing the great light. Creating evil karma and practicing the ten unwholesome actions, at the end of their lives most fall into the three evil paths and eight difficulties. / Therefore, the wise should observe: The unsurpassed, supreme Dharma possesses great merits, wondrous, profound, and inconceivable. Just as a merchant wishing to cross the ocean must board a ship before he can cross, so it is with all sentient beings: wishing to escape the ocean of birth and death in the three realms, they must rely on the ship of the Dharma before they can attain deliverance. The Dharma is a cooling refreshment that eliminates the fever of afflictions; the Dharma is a wondrous medicine that can cure the sickness of fetters. It is the true good friend of sentient beings, bringing great benefit and rescuing them from all distress. / Why? The nature of all sentient beings has no fixed character; following what they absorb and habituate themselves to, they generate good or bad karma. If one associates with non-Buddhists of wrong views and receives their instructions, one will transmigrate forever without limit; this is not called a good friend. If someone can generate faith and reverence, draw near to the worthy and holy ones, and listen to and accept the wondrous Dharma, by the cause and condition of the merit of listening to this Dharma, they will emerge from the mire of desires and receive the most supreme joy. Therefore, this person is called a good friend; one should diligently draw near and make offerings to them, for they can surely cause people to leave the suffering of the three evil paths. / As in the past, the King of Pāṭaliputra had a white elephant, brave and strong in strength, able to destroy foes and enemies. When there were criminals, he had the elephant trample them to death. Later, the elephant stable was burned by fire and moved to another place near a monastery. Hearing a monk recite the Dharma verses: “Doing good leads to birth in heaven; doing evil leads to falling into the abyss,” its mind became gentle and gave rise to thoughts of loving-kindness and compassion. Later, when criminals were delivered to it, it would not kill them at all, but merely sniffed them with its trunk, licked them, and walked away. Seeing this, the king was terrified, and summoned his wise ministers to deliberate on the matter. Then a minister said to the king: “The place where this elephant was tied was close to a monastery; it must have heard the wondrous Dharma, and that is why it is so. Now you may move and tie it near a slaughterhouse; when it beholds the slaughter, its evil mind will flare up.” The king followed his plan and tied the elephant at the slaughterhouse. Seeing the slaughter, flaying, and dismemberment, the elephant's evil mind grew fierce and its cruelty increased greatly. / By this you should know that the nature of sentient beings is not fixed. Why? Even beasts, hearing the Dharma, give rise to compassion, and seeing slaughter, turn to cruelty; how much more so with humans—how could they not absorb habits and produce good or bad karma? Therefore, the wise should realize: Wrong views and evil teachings bring much harm; cast them off, abandon them, and diligently apply skillful means. Draw near to the holy Dharma, uphold and spread it, and regard it as the Great Master. By the cause and condition of this wondrous merit, one will forever transcend the suffering of the three evil paths, cross the ocean of birth and death, and receive the joy of nirvāṇa. / Furthermore, this Dharma is the complete cause and condition for attaining the benefits of the path; therefore it is also called the true good friend. As Ānanda formerly addressed the Buddha: “World-Honored One, a good friend is half the cause and condition for attaining the benefits of the path.” The Buddha said: “Not so! A good friend is the complete cause and condition for attaining the path. Ānanda, you should know: In this Jambudvīpa, with the exception of Mahākāśyapa, Śāriputra, and their like, if other sentient beings do not meet me, they will constantly transmigrate without any period of liberation. Therefore I say: A good friend can bring great benefit.” / For this reason, you should know that the Buddha's Dharma is the most venerable, the most wondrous, and without superior, accomplished through immeasurable merits. Therefore, when the World-Honored One first achieved correct enlightenment, sitting upright beneath the king of trees, he contemplated: “If all the world had no father, mother, teachers, or elders, being solitary, exposed, and forever without support, upon whom should I now rely and stand?” He further thought: “The Buddhas of the past, future, and present all take the supreme Dharma as their model and teacher. I, too, should follow the Buddhas of the three periods of time and take the profound, wondrous, and supreme Dharma as my teacher.” For this reason, the Buddha constantly revere such wondrous Dharma, wholeheartedly bowing down to it and diligently guarding it. You should know that this Dharma is extremely rare; therefore, the wise should uphold it. / Furthermore, in the past there was a brāhmaṇa who possessed many human skulls, and went to Pāṭaliputra hawking them everywhere. After a long time, no one bought them. He became furious and shouted in a loud voice: “If the people in this city do not buy the skulls from me, I will spread an evil reputation about you, saying that you are all foolish, ignorant, and dull!” Then the upāsakas in the city, hearing these words and fearing his slander, took money and went to buy them from him. They probed the ears with a copper chopstick: if it passed completely through, they paid a high price; if it passed halfway through, they paid a lower price; if it did not pass through at all, they gave no price whatsoever. Then the brāhmaṇa asked the upāsakas: “My skulls are all alike; why are the prices different?” The upāsakas said: “The skulls that were fully penetrated belonged to people who, when alive, heard and accepted the wondrous Dharma; their wisdom was lofty and superior, and because we value this, we gave a high price. Those that penetrated halfway, although they heard the wondrous Dharma, had not fully discerned it; for this reason we gave you a low price. As for those that did not pass through at all, those people never heard the Dharma in the past; for this reason we gave you no price.” Then the upāsakas took these skulls, went outside the city, and erected stūpas to make offerings to them. When their lives ended, they were all born in heaven. / By this cause and condition you should know that the wondrous Dharma possesses great merit and can establish people. Why? If these upāsakas, merely by erecting stūpas for the skulls of people who heard the Dharma, were still born in heaven, how much more so for those who sincerely listen to and accept this Dharma, and make offerings to and revere those who uphold the sūtras? The reward of this blessing is extremely difficult to exhaust; in the future they will surely attain the unsurpassed path. Therefore, all who wish to attain unsurpassed peace and joy, and to perform great benefit in converting sentient beings, should uphold such supreme Dharma.