高僧傳 6

English (machine translation) 6

Language: English

6.1

Compiled by the śramaṇa Shi Huijiao of Jiaxiang Temple in Kuaiji under the Liang

6.2

Shi Huiyuan, 1
Shi Huichi, 2
Shi Huiyong, 3
Shi Sengji, 4
Shi Fa'an, 5
Shi Tanyong, 6
Shi Daozu, 7
Shi Sengche, 8
Shi Daorong, 9
Shi Tanying, 10
Shi Sengrui, 11
Shi Daoheng, 12
Shi Sengzhao, 13

Shi Huiyuan, originally of the Jia clan, was a man of Loufan in Yanmen. From his youth he was fond of books, showing the brilliance of fine jade; at the age of thirteen, he accompanied his maternal uncle of the Linghu clan to study in Xu and Luo. Thus from his early years he was among the scholars, broadly mastering the Six Classics and being especially skilled in Zhuangzi and Laozi. His disposition was vast and broad, and his discernment lucid and outstanding; even veteran scholars and eminent men of letters all yielded to the depth of his understanding. At the age of twenty-one, he wished to cross the Yangzi to the east to join Fan Xuanzi in noble seclusion. It happened that Shi Hu had already died, the Central Plains were thrown into turmoil by bandits, and the southern road was blocked, so his aim could not be realized.

6.4

At that time, the śramaṇa Shi Dao'an had established a temple on Mount Heng in Taihang to propagate the Dharma of Images, and his renown was widely celebrated; Yuan thereupon went to join him. At their very first meeting, he showed the utmost respect, regarding Dao'an as 'truly my master'. Later, hearing Dao'an lecture on the Prajñā-sūtra, he was suddenly awakened and sighed, saying: 'Confucianism, Daoism, and the Nine Schools are all mere chaff and husks!' He and his younger brother Huichi then cast off their hairpins, shaved their heads, and committed their lives to receive his teachings.

6.5

Once he entered the Way, he was resolute and distinguished from the throng, always wishing to uphold the fundamental order and taking the great Dharma as his own duty; he meditated acutely and recited diligently, continuing by night what he began by day. As poor travelers without resources, they were often without quilted clothing, yet the brothers were reverent and diligent, unflagging from beginning to end. There was a śramaṇa named Tanyi who constantly provided them with expenses for lamps and candles. When Master Dao'an heard of this, he said with delight: 'That Daoist monk truly knows men!' Yuan drew upon insightful understanding from past causes and aroused superior aspirations over vast kalpas; thus his spirit was preeminent and his discernment far-reaching and profound. Master Dao'an often sighed, saying: 'If the Way is to flow into the Eastern Realm, will it not depend on Yuan!' At the age of twenty-four, he began to give lectures. A guest listening to the lecture once questioned the meaning of the true mark; as the debate went back and forth for hours, the guest’s doubt and confusion only increased. Yuan then cited the ideas of Zhuangzi as analogous categories, whereupon the confused man became enlightened. After this, Master Dao'an specifically permitted Huiyuan not to abandon secular writings. Dao'an had disciples named Fayu and Tanwei, both of whom possessed dazzling talent and pure, sharp aspirations, and they both yielded in admiration to him. Later, he accompanied Master Dao'an south to roam the Fan and He rivers.

6.6

In the ninth year of the Jianyuan era of the illegitimate Qin, the Qin general Fu Pi invaded Xiangyang. Dao'an was detained by Zhu Xu and could not leave, so he dispersed his disciples, having each go where they wished. As they took to the road, the senior and virtuous ones all received admonitions and instructions, but Yuan did not receive a single word. Yuan then knelt and said: 'I alone have received no instruction or encouragement; I fear I do not measure up to the rest.' Dao'an said: 'Regarding a man like you, how could I have any worries?' Yuan thereupon set off south to Jingzhou with several dozen disciples and stayed at Shangming Temple. Later, he wished to go to Mount Luofu; when he arrived in Xunyang, seeing that Mount Lu was serene and pure, well suited for resting the mind, he began by residing at the Longquan Hermitage.

6.7

This place was very far from water; Yuan struck the ground with his staff and said: 'If this place is suitable for dwelling, let the decaying soil bring forth a spring.' As soon as he finished speaking, clear water gushed forth, eventually becoming a stream. A short time later, Xunyang suffered a severe drought; Yuan went to the pool's side to read the Sūtra of the Ocean Dragon King. Suddenly a giant serpent rose from the pool into the sky, and in a moment heavy rain fell, resulting in an abundant harvest that year; hence the hermitage was named Longquan Temple.

6.8

At that time, there was the śramaṇa Huiyong, who lived at Xilin; as an old friend from the same school, he invited Yuan to reside with him. Yong said to the regional inspector Huan Yi: 'Master Yuan is now about to propagate the Way; his followers are already numerous, and more are arriving. The place where this poor monk dwells is cramped and small, insufficient for us to stay together—what should we do?' Huan thereupon built additional halls and residences for Yuan east of the mountain, which is Donglin Temple. In establishing this hermitage, Yuan thoroughly brought out the beauty of the mountain: with its back against Incense Burner Peak and flanked by the gorge of the waterfall, he used natural stones to build the foundation and pine wood for the structure; clear springs circled the steps, and white clouds filled the rooms. Within the temple, he also set up a separate dhyāna grove, where dense trees gathered mist and moss covered the stone mats; all who looked upon it or walked there felt their spirits cleared and their minds sobered.

6.9

Yuan heard that in Tianzhu there was a Buddha shadow, which was the shadow left behind when the Buddha previously converted a poisonous dragon, located in the ancient ṛṣi stone cave south of the city of Nagarahāra in the Yuezhi country of Northern Tianzhu, a route of fifteen thousand eight hundred and fifty li west across the flowing sands; he was constantly filled with joyous longing and wished to behold it. It happened that a foreign master from the Western Regions described its light and appearance; Yuan then backed against the mountain and faced the stream to construct a grotto shrine, skillfully directing artists to paint it in light pigments, its colors appearing like gathered space, looking from afar like mist and smoke, its brilliant marks blazing, as if hidden yet revealed. Yuan then composed an inscription, saying:

6.10

Vast indeed is the great image, / its principle profound and nameless. / Embodying the spirit, it enters transformation; / casting its shadow, it leaves form behind. / Turning its glow upon layered crags, / it congeals its radiance in the empty pavilion. / In shade it is not obscured; / dwelling in darkness, it is all the brighter. / Moving gracefully like a cicada sloughing its shell, / it receives the courtly homage of the hundred spirits. / Its responses differ across various regions; / its traces vanish into the distant void (part one).
Boundless is the desolate world, / with none to encourage or exhort. / Lightly in the void its appearance is rendered, / brushing the air to transmit the image. / Its marks are complete while its substance is minute; / its unassertive posture is naturally luminous. / The white ūrṇā emits radiance, / refreshing the midst of the dark night. / Only when resonance reaches deep is there a response; / striking sincere devotion brings forth a ringing sound. / Its voice lingers on the mountain crests, / guiding realization and unseen appreciation. / Reaching out to it brings an encounter; / its merit stems from no past cause (part two).
Turning on one's heel, reverence is forgotten; / without reflection and without awareness. / The three luminaries veil their radiance; / the ten thousand forms become of one hue. / The courtyards become dim and shadowy; / the path of return is unfathomable. / Awaken to it through stillness; / open to it through effort. / Though the breeze of wisdom is far away, / the dust is thereby brought to rest. / Were it not for the sage's profound vision, / who could stir its utmost height? (part three).
Its subtle sound flows afar, / turning its gracious gaze to the east. / Rejoicing in the breeze and admiring the Way, / we look up to follow the profound measure. / Exhausting marvels at the tip of the brush, / wielding subtlety upon light silk. / Lodged in color, it softly congeals, / nearly shining through the misty firmament. / Traces use the likeness to depict the real; / principle deepens its import. / A rare inspiration opens the heart; / an auspicious wind leads the way. / Clear air wheels about the eaves, / as the dark blend has yet to dawn. / Vaguely discerning the divine visage, / faintly and reverently we meet it (part four).
Inscribing it and picturing it, / what does one seek or strive for? / May the spirit hear it, / and behold that which you cultivate. / May these dusty tracks / reflect that profound current. / Rinsing our hearts in the wondrous pool, / drinking harmony to reach supreme gentleness. / Illuminating the void, responding with simplicity; / when wisdom subsides, it is truly complete. / Deeply cherishing unseen entrustment, / night thoughts make a spirit journey. / Meeting it once at life's end, / we bid lasting farewell to a hundred sorrows (part five).

6.11

Also, in former times, when Tao Kan of Xunyang was in garrison at Guangzhou, a fisherman saw a divine radiance in the sea, shining brilliantly every evening and growing ever brighter over ten days. Wondering at this, he reported it to Kan. Kan went to examine it closely and found it to be an image of King Aśoka. He immediately took it back and sent it to Hanxi Temple in Wuchang. The temple abbot, the monk Sengzhen, once traveled to Xiakou and dreamed at night that the temple had caught fire, but the hall housing this image was surrounded solely by dragon-spirits. When Zhen woke up, he galloped back to the temple; the temple was completely burnt to ashes, and only the image hall remained. Later, when Kan moved his garrison, he dispatched envoys to welcome and receive the image, considering it to possess awe-inspiring spiritual power. Several tens of men lifted it to the water, but when it was placed on the boat, the boat capsized and sank. The envoys were terrified and returned it, ultimately failing to obtain it. From his youth, Kan had displayed martial valor and had always been lacking in faith. Therefore, in the region of Jing and Chu, a popular ballad was made about him, saying:
'Tao is merely a hero of the sword;
the image is marked by the spirit.
One soars into the clouds, the other roosts in the mud;
how distant and far apart they are!
It may be brought about by sincerity;
it can hardly be summoned by force.'

6.12

When Huiyuan's founding of the monastery was complete, he prayed with a sincere heart and invited the image; it then became light and buoyant of itself, encountering no obstacles coming or going. Only then was it known that the proof of Huiyuan's spiritual resonance had already been foretold in the popular ballad. Thereupon, he led the assembly in practicing the Way without interruption day or night; the remaining transforming influence of Śākya was revived here. Soon after, men who observed the vinaya and stilled their minds, and guests of pure faith who had abandoned the worldly dust, arrived unbidden, gathering from afar as if drawn by a breeze. Liu Yimin of Pengcheng, Lei Cizong of Yuzhang, Zhou Xuzhi of Yanmen, Bi Yingzhi of Xincai, Zong Bing, Zhang Caimin, and Zhang Jishuo of Nanyang all abandoned the world and left behind worldly honors to dwell and travel under Huiyuan. Huiyuan then held a fast and made a vow before the image of Amitāyus in the vihāra, mutually pledging to reach the Western Realm. He had Liu Yimin compose the text, which said:

6.13

In the Sheti year, autumn, the seventh month, on the day yichou, the twenty-eighth day after the new moon on wuchen: The Dharma master Shi Huiyuan, with pure resonance reaching into the hidden mysteries, has given special expression to his long-held aspirations. He has invited like-minded gentlemen of stilled minds and pure faith, one hundred and twenty-three in all, to gather on the northern slope of Mount Lu, before the image of Amitābha in the Prajñā Platform vihāra, leading them to present incense and flowers in reverence and make this vow: For the assembly gathered in this single meeting, when the principle of dependent transformation is made clear, the transmission through the three periods of existence becomes manifest; when the tally of karmic progression and resonance corresponds, the retribution of good and evil is certain. Considering how friends holding arms can secretly sink away, we realize the urgent timeline of impermanence; examining how the three retributions press upon one another, we know how difficult it is to be plucked from the perilous destinies. This is why these like-minded worthy gentlemen are watchful in the evening and diligent at night, looking up and contemplating that by which they might cross over. Spirit may be touched and reached through resonance, but cannot be sought through physical traces. If the resonance is rooted in reality, the hidden path is but a foot away; yet if seeking has no master, how vast and limitless is the river crossing! Now, fortunately, without prior planning, we have united our minds upon the Western Realm; opening the texts, we unleash our faith, and our sincere sentiments are revealed from heaven, so that signs and omens penetrate our dreams and sleep, and joy is a hundredfold greater than when the people arrived like children. Thereupon, the cloud-like image displays its luster, a shadow matching a divine creation; the work succeeds through harmony with principle, an affair not driven by human agency. This is truly heaven opening their sincerity and the unseen workings gathering them together; can one not set one's mind, redouble one's focus, and concentrate one's thoughts to steady one's contemplation? Yet their radiant achievements are uneven and their merits and virtues are not identical; though their morning prayers are said to be the same, their evening destination might be separated. For our circle of teachers and friends, this is truly lamentable. Therefore, sighing, we urge each other to straighten our robes in the Dharma hall, dedicate a single mind in equal measure, settle our aspirations upon the profound ultimate, and vow with these like-minded persons to journey together to the transcendent realm. If any among us should extraordinarily excel the rest and be the first to ascend to the spiritual realm, let him not cultivate solely his own good atop the cloudy peaks, nor forget to offer complete help to those in the shadowy valleys; let those who advance first and those who ascend later exert themselves in contemplating the way of gathering and journeying together. Furthermore, marvelously beholding the Great Form, we shall open our hearts to pure illumination; consciousness will be renewed through awakening, and the bodily form transformed by change. Resting upon lotus blossoms in the midst of the stream, sheltered under jeweled branches to chant our verses; fluttering cloud robes to the eight extremities, drifting on fragrant breezes for endless years, the body forgets ease yet becomes ever more serene, and the mind transcends pleasure to find self-delight. Overlooking the three lower destinies, we bid them distant farewell; proudly looking upon the heavenly palaces, we take our lasting leave. Continuing in the footsteps of the host of spirits, we point to a single breath as the term of our pledge. To plumb this Way to the utmost—how magnificent it is!

6.14

Huiyuan's spiritual disposition was stern and dignified, and his deportment upright and angular; among all who came to behold him, there was none whose mind and body did not tremble. There was once a monk holding a bamboo ruyi scepter who wished to present it to him; after staying in the mountain for two nights, he never dared bring it forward, but secretly left it at the corner of the mat and silently departed. There was also the Dharma Master Huiyi, who was strong-willed, upright, and feared little. When about to visit the mountain, he said to Huiyuan's disciple Huibao: 'You gentlemen are mediocre talents who submit to him merely from afar upon hearing his reputation. Now just watch me.' When he arrived at the mountain, it happened that Huiyuan was lecturing on the Lotus Sūtra. Every time Huiyi wished to raise a difficult question, his heart fluttered and sweat poured down, so that he never dared to speak. Coming out, he said to Huibao: 'This venerable master is truly astonishing.' Such was the manner in which he subdued people and captivated the multitude.

6.15

When Yin Zhongkan went to Jingzhou, he passed by the mountain to pay his respects, and together with Huiyuan, he overlooked the Northern Ravine to discuss the substance of the Classic of Changes, spending the shifting shadows of the day without growing weary. Looking at him, he sighed and said: 'His understanding and faith are so profound and luminous; he is truly difficult to equal among ordinary men.'

6.16

The Minister over the Masses Wang Mi, the Army Protector Wang Mo, and others all admired his moral character and paid their respects to him as a master from afar. Mi wrote a letter saying: 'I am only forty years of age, yet my decay is already equal to sixty.' Huiyuan replied, saying: 'The ancients did not cherish a foot-wide disc of jade, but valued an inch of time; observing where their care lay, it seems it was not in longevity. Since the dānapati treads in accordance with nature and lets his spirit wander, riding the principles of the Buddha to rein in his mind, if one deduces from this, why envy a long lifespan? I imagine you have long possessed this principle; I write merely to reply to your incoming letter.'

6.17

When Lu Xun first came down and occupied the city of Jiangzhou, he entered the mountain to visit Huiyuan. In his youth, Huiyuan had been a fellow student with Xun's father, Xia. Upon seeing Xun, he gladly conversed about the past, and consequently they exchanged inquiries day and night. A monk admonished Huiyuan, saying: 'Xun is an enemy of the state; interacting with him so warmly, could you not incur suspicion?' Huiyuan said: 'Within our Buddhadharma, the mind makes no picking and choosing; how could discerning people fail to observe this? There is nothing to fear.' When Emperor Wu of Song pursued and attacked Lu Xun, setting up his camp at Sangwei, his attendants said: 'Master Huiyuan has long held sway over Mount Lu and has close ties with Xun.' Emperor Wu of Song said: 'Master Huiyuan is a man beyond the mundane world; he certainly harbors no partiality.' He then dispatched an envoy carrying a letter to express his respect and sent gifts of money and rice. Thereupon, those far and near submitted to his clear insight.

6.18

Earlier, when scriptures circulated east of the Yangtze, many were incomplete; methods of dhyāna were unheard of, and the Vinayapiṭaka was fragmented and deficient. Huiyuan lamented these deficiencies in the Way, and so ordered his disciples Fajing, Faling, and others to search far and wide for scriptures. Crossing sands and snow, they returned only after many years, having acquired Sanskrit texts so that they could be translated and transmitted.

6.19

In the past, when Master Dao'an was within the passes, he invited Dharmanandin to translate the Abhidharma-hṛdaya. That man was not skilled in the Jin language, and there was much doubt and stagnation. Later, there was the Kashmiri monk Saṃghadeva, who was broadly learned in the various scriptures; in the sixteenth year of the Taiyuan era of the Jin dynasty, he came to Xunyang. Huiyuan requested him to retranslate the Abhidharma-hṛdaya and the San fadu lun (*Tridharmakhaṇḍaka-śāstra). Thereupon, these two studies flourished, and Huiyuan composed prefaces indicating their essential doctrines to bequeath to scholars.

6.20

He worked untiringly for the Way, making the propagation of the Dharma his prime concern; whenever he met a guest from the Western Regions, he would earnestly consult and question him. Hearing that Kumārajīva had entered the passes, he immediately dispatched a letter to establish friendly relations, saying: 'Shi Huiyuan bows his head. Last year, I received a letter from General of the Left Yao, and learned in detail of your virtues and wellbeing. In the past, you were separated in distant realms and traversed foreign territories; at that time, voice and translation had not yet intersected, yet hearing of your fame, I was delighted. But with rivers and lakes difficult to cross, I could only sigh over our bodily separation. Recently I learned that, taking advantage of the opportune moment, you have journeyed here bearing treasures; when news arrived of your stopping place, my mind galloped toward you nine times a day. In vain does my heart relish your refined taste, yet having no means to reach you completely, looking upon the path merely increases my anxious waiting. I constantly rejoice in the widespread propagation of the Great Dharma and that our three regions meet in it; although our lives have fallen in its latter age, our aspirations are identical to those of the past. Truly, I have been unable to knock at the marvelous gate of the ford and achieve resonance with the remaining spirit [of the Buddha]. Yet as for opening my heart to an unseen covenant, there is not a day I do not cherish it. When a sandalwood tree is transplanted, different things share its perfume; when a maṇi jewel emits radiance, various treasures naturally accumulate. This is merely the way teachings harmonize, like going empty-handed and returning full; how much more so for the singular, imageless principle whose response is free of worldly sentiment! Therefore, those who shoulder the Great Dharma must take having no reward as their mind; those who gather friends through benevolence must cause the achievement to belong not to themselves. If the wheel of the Dharma does not halt its axle on the path of the Eightfold Noble Path, and the Three Jewels do not cease their voice in the era of impending exhaustion, then Pūrṇa will not monopolize beauty in bygone ages, and Nāgārjuna will not have acted well alone in former footsteps. I now send cut cloth for a monastic robe, wishing you will wear it when ascending the high seat, along with a water-filtering vessel; since these are Dharma objects, I use them simply to express my feelings.'

6.21

Kumārajīva replied with a letter, saying: 'Kumārajīva makes obeisance. Not having spoken face to face, and separated by written expressions, the path guiding our minds does not connect, and the condition for obtaining understanding is severed. From what the couriers brought, I have roughly learned of your moral influence; how have you been lately? Having fully heard of one aspect, one can encompass a hundred. A sūtra says: In the final period, there will be a Dharma-protecting bodhisattva in the east. Exert yourself, benevolent one, and properly propagate this matter! As for wealth, there are five provisions: merit, precepts, broad learning, eloquence, and deep wisdom. He who combines them will have a flourishing Way; he who lacks them will suffer doubt and stagnation. You, benevolent one, possess them all. The reason I send my mind to establish friendly ties and convey my thoughts through translation—how could it exhaust them? I merely roughly reciprocate your incoming intention. You took the trouble to send cut cloth for a monastic robe, wishing me to wear it when ascending the Dharma seat; I shall comply with your intention, but only feel ashamed that the person does not match the object. I now send a brass twin-spouted water vessel that I regularly use, which may be counted among Dharma objects, and also present a stanza of verses, saying:
"Having already abandoned defiled pleasures,
has the mind attained good control or not?
If it has attained freedom from scattering,
has it penetrated deeply into the true mark or not?
Within the mark of ultimate emptiness,
its mind finds nothing to take pleasure in.
If one delights in the wisdom of dhyāna,
this nature of phenomena lacks illumination.
Illusory, deceitful, and equally without reality,
it is also no resting place for the mind.
Whatever Dharma you have attained,
kindly deign to show its essentials."'

6.22

Huiyuan again wrote a letter to Kumārajīva, saying: "The weather is turning cool; how have you been lately? Last month the man of the Way Fashi arrived, and I was grieved to hear that you wish to return to your native country. Previously, I heard that you were just about to produce many sūtras on a grand scale, and so I had wished to come consult and inquire of you. If this report is not empty, how can everyone's regret be put into words? Now I make bold to ask briefly about several dozen matters, hoping that when you have leisure you might explain them one by one. Although these are not great difficulties in the sūtras, I simply wish to have them settled by you." He also sent a responding gāthā, which read:
"Whence, after all, does the fundamental origin arise?
Arising and ceasing are without boundary.
A single subtle [particle] enters the realm of movement,
To form this momentum of a collapsing mountain.
Deluded thoughts further mount upon one another;
Impelled against reality, they naturally give rise to stagnation.
Although causes and conditions lack a master,
The path they open is not of a single lifetime.
In an age without a master who realizes the ultimate principle,
Who will grasp the profound tally?
The questions sent forth are still lingering and long;
Let us set our hopes on our twilight years."

6.23

Later, Puṇyatāra came to Guanzhong and recited from memory the Sanskrit text of the *Daśādhyāya-vinaya*. Kumārajīva translated it into the Jin language. When only two of the three parts had been done, Puṇyatāra passed away, and Huiyuan constantly lamented that it was incomplete. When he heard that Dharmaruci had entered Qin and was also skilled in reciting this text, he sent his disciple Tanyong with a letter to entreat him to produce the remaining parts in Guanzhong. Thus, the complete *Daśādhyāya-vinaya* was made whole without omissions. The Jin lands obtained the text, which has been handed down to the present day. That these wondrous scriptures from beyond the Congling Mountains and supreme expositions from Guanzhong came to gather in this land was all due to Huiyuan's effort. The monks of foreign countries all declared that in the land of Han there was a Mahāyāna man of the Way; whenever they burned incense and prostrated, they would turn east and bow their heads, directing their minds toward Mount Lu. His spiritual and intellectual traces were indeed unfathomable.

6.24

Prior to this, the Central Lands did not yet have the doctrine of the eternal abiding of nirvāṇa, but spoke only of long life. Huiyuan thereupon sighed and said: "The Buddha is the ultimate; the ultimate is unchanging. How could the principle of the unchanging ever be exhausted!" He then composed the *Treatise on the Dharma-nature*, saying: "The ultimate takes non-change as its nature; attaining this nature takes realizing the ultimate as its principle." When Kumārajīva saw the treatise, he praised it, saying: "A person of a border country, before even having the scriptures, has secretly chimed with the principle! Is this not wonderful!"

6.25

Yao Xing, the ruler of Qin, admired the reputation of Huiyuan's virtue and praised his talent and thought. He sent letters with great warmth, and messengers bearing gifts arrived in continuous succession. He presented him with an image woven with fine threads of diverse transformations from the country of Kucha to express his sincerity, and also ordered Yao Song to offer a pearl image. When the *Dàzhìdù lùn* was newly produced, Yao Xing sent the treatise along with a letter, saying: "The *Dàzhì lùn* has newly finished being translated. Since this was composed by Nāgārjuna and is the ultimate drift of the Vaipulya teachings, a preface should be written for it to express the author's intention. However, these various men of the Way have all deferred to one another, none daring to take up their brush. May the Dharma Master compose a preface for it, to bequeath to future students."

6.26

Huiyuan replied in a letter, saying: "You wish for me to compose a preface to the *Dàzhì lùn* to express the author's intention. This poor monk has heard: what is vast cannot be contained in a small pouch; what is deep cannot be measured by a short rope. As I unroll and examine it, I feel ashamed before your exalted command. Furthermore, my body is frail and plagued by many ailments; I am hindered in all affairs and have not applied my mind to such things for a long time. Yet because your communication is so momentous, I have made bold to sketch roughly what I hold in mind. As for the beauty of profound study, we must look to the illustrious and virtuous." Such was the height and reach of his renown.

6.27

Huiyuan often thought that the sentences and phrases of the *Dàzhì lùn* were numerous and broad, making it difficult for beginners to navigate. He therefore excerpted its essential passages and compiled them into twenty fascicles. The preface was profound and elegant, allowing scholars to save more than half of their labor.

6.28

Later, Huan Xuan launched an expedition against Yin Zhongkan. His army passed by Mount Lu, and he invited Huiyuan to come out beyond Tiger Creek. Huiyuan claimed illness and said he was unable. Huan Xuan entered the mountain himself. His attendants said to Huan Xuan: "In the past, when Yin Zhongkan entered the mountain, he paid homage to Huiyuan. We hope your lordship will not revere him." Huan Xuan replied: "How could there be such a thing! Zhongkan was fundamentally just a dead man." When he saw Huiyuan, he unconsciously paid his respects. Huan Xuan asked: "[The Classics say] one dares not damage [the body]; why have you shaved your hair?" Huiyuan replied: "To establish oneself and practice the Way." Huan Xuan praised him. The difficult questions he had harbored he dared not speak of again, and instead spoke of his intentions for the military expedition. Huiyuan did not reply. Huan Xuan asked again: "What is your wish for me?" Huiyuan said: "I wish that the dānapati remain safe and sound, and that the other party also come to no harm." When Huan Xuan left the mountain, he said to his attendants: "He is truly someone I have never seen before in my life." Later, relying on his authority that shook the sovereign, Huan Xuan pressed hard to recruit him, sending a letter with persuasive rhetoric urging him to enter official service. Huiyuan's reply was firm and upright, unshakable and steadfast; his resolve surpassed cinnabar and stone, and in the end he could not be swayed. Soon after, Huan Xuan wished to purge the saṃgha, and instructed his subordinates: "Śramaṇas who are able to expound the scriptures and teachings, clearly explain the principles, or whose disciplined conduct is refined and upright, sufficient to proclaim and transmit the great transformation—all those who fall short of this shall be dismissed and sent away. Only Mount Lu, being the dwelling of virtue and the Way, is not subject to search and selection." Huiyuan sent a letter to Huan Xuan, saying: "The Buddha's teachings have fallen into decline; defilement and corruption have persisted for a long time. Every time I reflect upon this, grief and indignation fill my breast. I have always feared that an unintended turn of fortune would come, and destruction would soon follow. I have observed your directive to cleanse the men of the Way, and it truly accords with the original intention. When the Jing and Wei rivers part, the clear and turbid take different courses; when the crooked is straightened by the upright, the unbenevolent naturally keep their distance. Once this order is executed, unity of principle will surely be attained. Then those who feign and deceive will have their paths of pretense cut off, while those who cherish the truth will have no shame before the world. The Way and the secular will flourish together, and the Three Jewels will once more prosper." He then laid out detailed regulations, which Huan Xuan followed.

6.29

Formerly, when Emperor Cheng was young, Yu Bing assisted the government and believed that śramaṇas should pay homage to the ruler. Prefect of the Masters of Writing He Chong, and Supervisors of the Left and Right Chu Yu and Zhuge Tan submitted memorials stating that they should not pay homage. The official deliberations all agreed with He Chong and the others. The Chancellery, following Yu Bing's intention, refuted them; opinions differed contentiously, and nothing could be settled. When Huan Xuan was at Gushu, he wished to make them pay full homage, and sent a letter to Huiyuan, saying: "That śramaṇas do not pay homage to the ruler is something feelings cannot accept, and in principle cannot comprehend. In a great affair of the age, its propriety must not be made defective. I now present to you the recent letters of the Eight Ministers; you may state the reasons why they should not pay homage. Since this is an affair about to be put into practice, please explain it in full detail; I expect you will surely have the means to resolve these doubts."

6.30

Huiyuan replied, saying: "What is meant by the name 'śramaṇa'? It refers to one who can awaken the profound darkness of worldly customs and open the mysterious path beyond secular transformation, who is about to walk together with all under Heaven in the way of dual forgetting, causing those who aspire to the high to partake of their lingering wind, and those who rinse with streams to taste their remaining ford. If so, even if their great task is not yet accomplished, when one observes the traces of their transcendent steps, what they have realized is already vast. Furthermore, the kāṣāya is not attire for court audience, nor is the alms bowl a vessel for the imperial halls. Śramaṇas are people beyond the dust, and should not pay homage to the ruler."

6.31

Although Huan Xuan stubbornly held to his former intention and felt ashamed to yield outwardly, on seeing Huiyuan's arguments he hesitated and could not decide. Shortly thereafter, Huan Xuan usurped the throne and immediately issued a decree, saying: "The Buddhadharma is vast and unfathomable. Out of the feeling of honoring the sovereign, reverence was formerly demanded. Now that the affair rests with myself, I should practice humility; the various men of the Way need no longer pay homage."

6.32

Huiyuan then composed the *Treatise on Śramaṇas Not Paying Homage to Kings*, in five sections in all. The first was "Those at Home": it means that those who uphold the Dharma at home are subjects who follow the secular transformation; their feelings have not changed from worldly customs and their traces are within the realm, and so there is the love of natural kinship and the ritual of serving the ruler; ritual reverence has its root, and this is followed to establish the teaching. The second was "Those Who Have Left the Household": it means that those who leave the household can flee the world to seek their aspiration, and change customs to attain their Way. Changing customs means their robes and insignia cannot share the same rituals as worldly canons; fleeing the world means their traces should be exalted. Those of great virtue can therefore rescue the drowning world from the sinking flow, uproot the mysterious root across repeated kalpas, and from afar open the ford of the Three Vehicles, while near at hand opening the path to humans and gods. If one man perfects his virtue, the Way extends to the six relations and bounty flows throughout all under Heaven; though he does not occupy the station of kings and lords, he already harmonizes with the August Ultimate and shelters the living people. Therefore, inwardly he departs from the gravity of natural kinship without rebelling against filial piety; outwardly he lacks the courtesy of serving the sovereign without losing reverence. The third was "Seeking the Ultimate Without Following Secular Transformation": it means that those who return to the origin and seek the ultimate do not entangle their spirit with life; those who transcend the bond of dust do not entangle their life with emotions. If life is not entangled with emotions, then life can be extinguished; if the spirit is not entangled with life, then the spirit can merge with the void. Merging the spirit and transcending objects is therefore called nirvāṇa. Thus, though śramaṇas match rituals with the ruler of ten thousand chariots and hold their endeavors high, not accepting noble ranks from kings and lords, [the ruler] nonetheless partakes of their blessing. The fourth was "The Ultimate Substance Does Not Adapt Diversely": it means that the Tathāgata and the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, though their points of departure differ, secretly influence each other; their public service and retirement are completely different, but their ultimate aims must be the same. Therefore, though it is said their ways differ, that to which they return is one. That they do not adapt diversely is because creatures cannot receive both at once. The fifth was "The Body Exhausts but the Spirit Is Not Extinguished": it means that consciousness and spirit gallop forth, following karma east and west. This is the general idea of the treatise. From this point on, śramaṇas were able to preserve fully their traces beyond the world.

6.33

When Huan Xuan fled to the west, Emperor An of Jin returned from Jiangling to the capital. The General Supporting the State He Wuji urged Huiyuan to pay audience to the emperor. Huiyuan pleaded illness and did not go. The emperor dispatched an envoy to extend his greetings, and Huiyuan wrote a letter saying: "Śi-Huiyuan bows his head: In this warm and agreeable tenth month, I pray your imperial meals are well suited. This poor monk has long suffered from severe illness, and my decline in age is ever greater. I have humbly received your compassionate decree, which condescended to bestow radiant consolation; the depth of my gratitude and awe is truly a hundredfold in my heart. While fortunate to encounter this joyous reunion, my body cannot move itself; this feeling and this sorrow truly cannot be expressed in words." The imperial reply stated: "I am moved with feelings in this tenth month, and learn that your ailment is not improving, which leaves my mind deeply unsettled. Last month I departed from Jiangling; on the road there was much unease and delays beyond the usual. I had originally hoped to meet you in passing. As the Dharma Master nurtures simplicity in the mountain forest, and your ailment is not yet cured, there is remotely no further opportunity, which only adds to my sighing and regret."

6.34

Xie Lingyun of Chen commandery was proud of his talent and contemptuous of worldly customs, holding few people in esteem; but once he met Huiyuan, he submitted with solemn reverence in his heart. Huiyuan was thoroughly versed in Buddhist principles within, and skilled in the various secular books without; among the disciples, none failed to model themselves after him. At that time, Huiyuan lectured on the *Scripture on Mourning Garments*, and Lei Cizong, Zong Bing, and others all held their scrolls and received his instructions. Later, Cizong separately composed a commentary and titled the beginning "By Mr. Lei". Zong Bing thereupon sent him a letter teasing him, saying: "Formerly I received this meaning face-to-face with you before Master Shi; do you now inscribe the head of the scroll as 'Mr. Lei'?" His transforming influence over both the religious and the secular was of this kind in more than one instance.

6.35

From the time Huiyuan settled on Mount Lu for over thirty years, his shadow never left the mountain and his footsteps never entered the secular world. Whenever he saw off visiting guests, he always took Tiger Creek as his boundary. In the eighth month of the twelfth year of the Yixi reign of Jin, he first became indisposed; by the sixth day, he was gravely ill. Venerable elders all touched their foreheads to the ground and begged him to drink fermented bean wine, but he refused; they begged him to drink rice water, but he refused; they begged him to drink syrup made of honey mixed with water, whereupon he ordered the Vinaya master to unroll the texts to see whether it was permissible to drink or not. Before half the scroll was finished, he passed away at the age of eighty-three. His disciples wailed and lamented as if they had lost their own parents; religious and secular rushed to attend, carriages following axle-to-axle and people shoulder-to-shoulder. Considering that the feelings of ordinary mortals are difficult to sever, Huiyuan had instituted a seven-day period to display mourning, and left final instructions that his corpse be exposed beneath the pine trees. Afterwards, his disciples gathered his remains and buried them; Ruan Bao, the commandery governor of Xunyang, excavated a grave and cut a tunnel on the west ridge of the mountain. Xie Lingyun composed the stele inscription, eulogizing his bequeathed virtue. Zong Bing of Nanyang also erected a stele at the temple gate.

6.36

Earlier, Huiyuan had been skilled in composing texts; his phrasing and tone were pure and elegant, his discourse during gatherings concise and profound. In addition, his deportment was upright and dignified, and his demeanor natural and unconstrained; thus his portrait was painted in the monastery, where people from near and far looked up to it as a model. The treatises, prefaces, inscriptions, eulogies, poems, and letters he composed were collected into ten fascicles, comprising more than fifty pieces, and were held in high esteem by the world.

6.37

Shi Huichi was Huiyuan's younger brother. He was placid, reserved, and had great magnanimity. At the age of fourteen he began to read texts, and what he mastered in a single day was equivalent to another's ten days. He was well-versed in literature and history, and possessed skill in composition. At the age of eighteen he entered the monastic life (pravrajyā) and, together with his elder brother, served Dharma Master Dao'an with devotion. He extensively studied various sūtras, wielding his blade with ease through the Tripiṭaka. When Dao'an, while in Xiangyang, dispatched Huiyuan down eastward, Huichi went with him as well. At first they rested at Shangming Temple in Jingzhou, and later went to Mount Lu, Huichi always accompanying Huiyuan and residing with him. Huichi was eight chi tall, with an outstanding and brisk demeanor; he often wore leather sandals, and his patched monastic robe came down halfway along his shins. Among the disciples on Mount Lu, not one was not an outstanding talent, and of the three thousand coming and going, all considered Huichi their foremost.

6.38

Huichi had a paternal aunt who was a nun named Daoyi, who lived in Jiangxia. Having heard that the Buddhadharma flourished in the capital, Daoyi wished to travel down and observe the edification there. Huichi thereupon escorted his aunt to the capital, where they stayed at Dong'an Temple. Wang Xun of Langya, General of the Guard of the Jin, deeply valued and respected him. At the time, there was the Western Regions śramaṇa Saṃgharakṣa, who was skilled in reciting the four Āgamas; Wang Xun requested him to bring forth the Madhyamāgama-sūtra. Huichi then collated the text and phrasing, scrutinized and definitively established it, and afterward returned to the mountain. A short while later, Fan Ning, the Grand Administrator of Yuzhang, invited him to lecture on the Lotus Sūtra and the Abhidharma; thereupon crowds gathered like clouds from the four quarters, assembling from a thousand li away. Wang Xun wrote a letter to Fan Ning, saying: 'Between the Venerable Yuan and the Venerable Chi, who is the better?' Fan replied in a letter: 'They are truly worthy brothers!' Wang wrote back: 'Merely to equal the elder brother is truly no easy thing—how much more so that the younger brother is equally worthy!' Wang Gong of Langya, the Inspector of Yanzhou, sent a letter to the śramaṇa Sengjian, asking: 'How is the supreme virtue of the brothers Yuan and Chi?' Sengjian replied: 'The brothers Yuan and Chi—abundantly indeed do they possess the style of the Way!' While Kumārajīva was at the Pass, he admired and respected Huichi from afar, sending letters to exchange courtesies and bonding as good friends.

6.39

Huichi later heard that Chengdu had fertile land and prosperous people, and resolved to go there to propagate the teaching, and also wished to view Mount Emei and shake his monk's staff amidst the peaks of Min. Thus in the third year of the Long'an era of the Jin (399 CE), he took leave of Huiyuan to enter Shu. Huiyuan bitterly tried to retain him, but could not stop him. Huiyuan sighed: 'Human life loves gathering; you alone delight in parting. Why is this?' Huichi also sorrowfully replied: 'If one were detained by the affections of worldly gathering, one ought not to have left home in the first place. Now having already severed desires to seek the Way, we look forward precisely to [meeting in] the Western Land.' Thereupon the brothers wiped away their tears and parted in sorrowful silence.

6.40

Traveling to Jingzhou, Inspector Yin Zhongkan treated him with delight and deep respect. At that time, Huan Xuan was also there. Although Huan Xuan's scholarly foundation was slight, his spirit was exceptionally outstanding at first encounter. Seeing that Huichi's insight into subtle matters was uniquely peerless, he especially praised him as incomparable in past or present, and greatly wished to form ties of friendship. But Huichi doubted his character and ultimately declined and would not accept him. Yin and Huan both bitterly wished to retain him. Huichi had even less intention of staying; on the verge of leaving, he wrote a letter to Huan Xuan, saying: 'Originally I wished to lodge my ailing body amidst the peaks of Emei, and observe edification beyond the drifting sands; I cannot turn my back on the aspiration that set my feet in motion, so I have packed my bags and set out on the road.' Huan Xuan received the letter with melancholy, knowing that he could not be stopped. Huichi then arrived in Shu and resided at Longyuan Monastery, greatly propagating the Buddhadharma; across the constellations of the four quarters, those who admired his virtue gathered in companionship. Inspector Mao Qu held him in high esteem and veneration.

6.41

At that time, there were the śramaṇas Huiyan and Senggong. They had been in Min and Shu earlier, and people's hearts had leaned toward them at first meeting. When Huichi arrived and took up residence, they both yielded and submitted to him from afar. Those who ascended Huichi's hall were all said to have scaled the Dragon Gate. The Venerable Gong had talent and intellect from youth and served as the saṃghapradhāna of Shu Commandery; the Venerable Yan was widely learned in both Buddhist and non-Buddhist lore, and had long been esteemed by Mao Qu. Later, the Shu native Qiao Zong seized the opportunity of armed conflict to attack and kill Mao Qu, carving out the territory of Shu for himself and styling himself the King of Chengdu. He then gathered monks to hold a feast and forcibly invited the Venerable Yan. Yan had no choice but to attend. Since Mao Qu had been his long-standing dānapati, his sudden destruction caused Yan profound grief at the sight, and his anguish showed on his face; consequently, he was suspected by Qiao Zong and thus put to death. The entire town was thrown into chaos, and both monastics and laity were in peril and fear. Huichi avoided the crisis by resting at Zhong Temple in Pi County. Qiao Zong had a nephew named Daofu who was exceptionally fierce and perverse; leading troops to Pi to execute and slaughter, he passed by on his return and entered the temple. Men and horses were bathed in blood, and the assembly of monks were terrified, scattering in panic at once. Huichi was washing in front of his room, his expression calm and unaffected. Daofu walked straight up to Huichi; Huichi snapped his fingers and strained the water, tranquil and self-possessed. Daofu was overcome with shame and remorse, sweating profusely; exiting the temple gate, he said to his attendants: 'A great man is indeed different from the ordinary crowd.' Later, when the territory was pacified, Huichi returned to reside at Longyuan Temple, lecturing, holding fasting retreats, and practicing repentance, becoming even more earnest in his old age. He died in the temple in the eighth year of the Yixi era of the Jin (412 CE) at the age of seventy-six. On his deathbed, his final instruction urged strict observance of vinaya rules, telling his disciples: 'The sūtras say: "The precepts are like the flat earth, from which all goods arise." In your walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, you ought to be cautious!' He entrusted the sūtras and books in the eastern room to his disciple Daohong, and committed the Dharma texts in the western room to his disciple Tanlan. Daohong's practice was pure and alert; Tanlan's spiritual comprehension was naturally endowed; both continued the tracks of their master's path.

6.42

Shi Huiyong, surnamed Pan, was a native of Henei. At the age of twelve he left home, serving the śramaṇa Zhu Tanxian as his teacher; later he also submitted wholeheartedly to Dharma Master Dao'an. He had long had a mutual pact with Huiyuan, wishing to build a hermitage amidst the peaks of Mount Luofu. Since Huiyuan was retained by Dao'an, Huiyong wished to cross the Five Ridges first. Passing through Xunyang on his journey, the commandery native Tao Fan bitterly invited and retained him; thereupon he stayed for a time at Xilin Temple on Mount Lu. After his disciples gradually increased and Huiyuan also built a monastery with him, he ultimately formed the intention to spend his end there.

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Linked texts (1)

高僧傳 — 慧皎, Classical Chinese