高僧傳 13.83

13.83

An appraisal says: Vocal cantillators (chàngdǎo) expound and chant the principles of the Dharma to open and guide the minds of the multitude. In ancient times, when the Buddhadharma was first transmitted, whenever people gathered at fasts, they merely chanted the Buddha's names and offered salutations according to the written texts. When they grew utterly exhausted by midnight and matters called for awakening and inspiring them, they would specially invite a senior monk of venerable virtue to ascend the high seat and preach the Dharma. Sometimes they interwove various causes and conditions; sometimes they cited parables and metaphors. Afterwards, Shi Huiyuan of Mount Lu possessed pure, flourishing religious practice and outstanding natural talents. Whenever a fasting assembly took place, he would personally ascend the high seat and lead the cantillation himself. First he illuminated the causes and effects across the three times, and then he explained the overarching meaning of a single fast; later generations transmitted this, and it eventually became an enduring rule. Thus Daozhao, Tanying, and more than ten others succeeded one another as masters, each renowned in his own generation. Now, what is valued in vocal cantillation consists of four things: voice, eloquence, talent, and erudition. Without voice, there is nothing with which to alert the crowd; without eloquence, there is nothing with which to suit the moment; without talent, one's words have nothing worthy of selection; without erudition, one's expressions have no foundation. When the resonance sounds like bells and drums, startling the minds of the fourfold assembly, that is the function of voice. When words are uttered in response to the moment without the slightest discord, that is the function of eloquence. When ornate compositions are richly decorated and literary flourishes run unrestrained, that is the function of talent. When one examines sūtras and treatises and gathers from secular books and histories, that is the function of erudition. If one can master these four matters and adapt them to persons and times—as when preaching for the fivefold assembly of renunciants, one must speak earnestly of impermanence and painfully urge repentance; when preaching for rulers, kings, and elders, one must also cite secular classics and weave them into ornate diction; when preaching for the ordinary run of common folk, one must point directly to affairs and portray concrete shapes, speaking directly of what they hear and see; when preaching for mountain folk and rustic dwellers, one must use immediate, plain language to declare and castigate their sins—all such variations arise in accordance with circumstances, and this may be called knowing the time, knowing the assembly, and also being able to preach skillfully. Even so, it is sincerity and earnestness that move people, and utmost sincerity that sways beings; this is supreme. Formerly, when drafting the *Biographies of Eminent Monks*, the biographies were originally organized into eight categories. Yet looking into the two skills of scriptural recitation (jīngshī) and vocal cantillation (chàngdǎo), although they are peripheral to the Way, they are worthy of respect for awakening the worldly. Therefore, these two items were added, bringing the total to ten. Why so? Take, for example, the opening evening of the eightfold fast (aṣṭāṅga-poṣadha): circumambulations have been completed, the canopy of incense smoke hangs still, the lamps shine quietly within their curtains, the fourfold assembly concentrates its mind, clenches its fingers, and keeps silent. At that moment, the cantillator holds the censer with impassioned bearing, raising and lowering his voice; his eloquence flows inexhaustibly, and his words respond without limit. When he speaks of impermanence, he causes minds and bodies to tremble; when he talks of hell (naraka), he makes tears of terror flow mingling together. When he investigates past causes, it is as though past karma were seen; when he examines future results, he has already displayed the coming retribution. When he speaks of joyful delight, their sentiments become carefree and glad; when he recounts sorrow and grief, they shed tears laden with bitterness. Thereupon the whole assembly turns its heart, and the entire hall is moved to sorrow. All five limbs are cast upon the mats, and they knock their heads to express their grief. Each snaps their fingers, and everyone chants the Buddha's name. When it reaches midnight and the late watches, when the bell and clepsydra are about to cease, he says that the river of stars readily shifts and that splendid gatherings are difficult to keep. This again leaves people weighed down with emotion, filled with longing and attachment. At such a time, this is the function of the cantillator! As for the recitation by scriptural masters among them, the matter is seen in the preceding chapter. All of them are honored for their timely awakening of others, eradicating heterodoxy, and establishing faith. Since each possesses a commendable quality, they are compiled at the end of *Biographies of Eminent Monks*. But if one's broad learning is not vast and one's deep mastery is not long-standing, lacking quick eloquence on the spur of the moment, one must necessarily follow old manuscripts. Yet when the talent does not stem from oneself and the text was composed by another, in breathing and modulating musical tones, errors are revealed at every turn. Moreover, scribal errors in transcription are also uncritically relied upon and chanted, causing characters like *yu* and *lu* to be muddled, and stones to be mistaken for jade. Or when, in the midst of worship, a repentance petition suddenly arrives: having no prepared draft beforehand and being ashamed to bow one's head, one hastily invents words on the spot, faltering, stumbling, and hard to understand. With thoughts in disarray, mind and mouth contradict each other; a long time after the preceding words are spoken, the subsequent words are still not formed. Tugging at one's robes and clearing one's throat to stall for time, those in attendance feel their hearts turn cold, and onlookers break into laughter. The donors lose the timely merit, and the assembly of monks goes against the teachings of the ancient Buddhas. Having cut off the sprouts of emerging good, they merely increase the confusion of frivolous discourse (prapañca). In the beginning, they invite ridicule for playing the flute without skill; in the end, they bring upon themselves the blame of usurping the master carpenter's axe. If such be the case, how could they be called eminent monks?