續高僧傳 13.24

13.24

釋圓光。俗姓朴。本住三韓。卞韓馬韓辰韓。光即辰韓新羅人也。家世海東祖習綿遠。而神器恢廓愛染篇章。挍獵玄儒討讎子史。文華騰翥於韓服。博贍猶愧於中原。遂割略親朋發憤溟渤。年二十五。乘舶造于金陵。有陳之世號稱文國。故得諮考先疑詢猷了義。初聽莊嚴旻公弟子講。素霑世典謂理窮神。及聞釋宗反同腐芥。虛尋名教實懼生涯。乃上啟陳主請歸道法。有勅許焉。既爰初落采即稟具戒。遊歷講肆具盡嘉謀。領牒微言不謝光景。故得成實涅槃薀括心府。三藏數論偏所披尋。末又投吳之虎丘山。念定相沿無忘覺觀。息心之眾雲結林泉。並以綜涉四含功流八定明善易擬筒直難虧。深副夙心遂有終焉之慮。於即頓絕人事盤遊聖蹤。攝想青霄緬謝終古。時有信士宅居山下。請光出講固辭不許。苦事邀延。遂從其志。創通成論末講般若。皆思解俊徹嘉問飛移。兼糅以絢采織綜詞義。聽者欣欣會其心府。從此因循舊章開化成任。每法輪一動。輒傾注江湖。雖是異域通傳。而沐道頓除嫌郄。故名望橫流播于嶺表。披榛負橐而至者相接如鱗。會隋后御宇威加南國。曆窮其數軍入楊都。遂被亂兵將加刑戮。有大主將望見寺塔火燒。走赴救之了無火狀。但見光在塔前被縛將殺。既怪其異即解而放之。斯臨危達感如此也。光學通吳越。便欲觀化周秦。開皇九年來遊帝宇。值佛法初會攝論肇興。奉佩文言振績徽緒。又馳慧解宣譽京臯。勣業既成道東須繼。本國遠聞上啟頻請。有勅厚加勞問放歸桑梓。光往還累紀老幼相欣。新羅王金氏。面申虔敬仰若聖人。光性在虛閑。情多汎愛。言常含笑慍結不形。而牋表啟書往還國命。並出自胸襟。一隅傾奉皆委以治方。詢之道化。事異錦衣請同觀國。乘機敷訓垂範于今。年齒既高乘輿入內。衣服藥食並王手自營不許佐助。用希專福。其感敬為此類也。將終之前。王親執慰。囑累遺法。兼濟民斯為說。徵祥被于海曲。以彼建福五十八年。少覺不悆。經于七日。遺誡清切。端坐終于所住皇隆寺中。春秋九十有九。即唐貞觀四年也。當終之時。寺東北虛中音樂滿空異香充院。道俗悲慶知其靈感。遂葬于郊外。國給羽儀。葬具同於王禮。後有俗人兒胎死者。彼土諺云。當於有福人墓埋之。種胤不絕。乃私瘞於墳側。當日震此胎屍擲于塋外由此不懷。敬者率崇仰焉。有弟子圓安。神志機頴性希歷覽。慕仰幽求遂北趣九都。東觀不耐又西燕魏。後展帝京備通方俗。尋諸經論跨轢大綱。洞清纖旨晚歸心學。高軌光塵。初住京寺。以道素有聞。特進蕭瑀。奏請住於藍田所造津梁寺。四事供給無替六時矣。安甞敘光云。本國王染患。醫治不損。請光入宮。別省安置。夜別二時為說深法。受戒懺悔。王大信奉。一時初夜王見光首。金色晃然有象日輪隨身而至。王后宮女同共覩之。由是重發勝心。克留疾所。不久遂差。光於卞韓馬韓之間。盛通正法。每歲再講匠成後學。䞋施之資並充營寺。餘惟衣𭽽而已。

Śramaṇa Yuanguang, whose secular surname was Bak, originally lived in the Three Han: Byeonhan, Mahan, and Jinhan. Yuanguang was a man of Silla in Jinhan. For generations his family had dwelled in the Eastern Sea lands, their ancestral practices stretching far into the past. His spiritual capacities were vast and open, and he harbored a fondness for literary works. He explored and searched through Daoist and Confucian writings, and collated and examined the masters and histories. His literary brilliance soared throughout the realm of Han; yet he still felt ashamed of [the depth of] his erudition compared to the Central Plains. He therefore parted from his relatives and friends and, with resolute determination, set out across the boundless ocean. At the age of twenty-five, he took a ship and arrived at Jinling. The era of the Chen dynasty was renowned as a realm of culture; thus he was able to inquire into his former doubts and seek counsel on the path to understand the definitive meaning. At first, he listened to the lectures given by the disciples of the venerable Zhuangyan Min. Having formerly steeped himself in secular texts, he had considered their principles to have exhausted the spirit; but upon hearing the Buddhist teachings, [the former] seemed in contrast like rotten weeds. To search in vain through the teachings on name and form made him truly fear for his life. He thereupon submitted a memorial to the ruler of Chen, requesting permission to enter the path of Dharma, and an imperial decree granted it. After he had newly shaved his head, he received the full precepts. He traveled around the lecture halls, exhausting all their excellent instructions. Grasping the subtle words, he did not waste any time. Thus he gathered the Tattvasiddhi and Nirvāṇa into his mind and storehouse, while the Tripiṭaka and the Treatises on Enumeration (Abhidharma) were particularly examined by him. Later he withdrew to Tiger Hill in Wu, where concentration and contemplation followed one another continuously, without forgetting mindfulness and examination. Renunciants gathered like clouds in the forest springs. They all traversed the four Āgamas, their accomplishments flowing into the eight concentrations; as their understanding and goodness were readily comparable to a straight tube of bamboo, it was hard to find any flaw in them. Thoroughly fulfilling his long-cherished desire, he intended to remain there until the end. Thereupon he abruptly severed worldly relations, wandered among holy vestiges, cast his thoughts into the blue heavens, and took distant leave of antiquity. At that time, a faithful layman living at the foot of the mountain asked Yuanguang to come forth and lecture; he firmly declined and would not consent. After persistent and earnest invitations, he finally complied with his wish. He first expounded the Tattvasiddhi-śāstra and later lectured on Prajñā; in all, his thoughts and insights were sharp and penetrating, and his fine points came thick and fast. Furthermore, he blended them with brilliant literary adornment, weaving together phrasing and meaning. The listeners were overjoyed, their minds deeply attuned. From then on, following former precedents, he undertook the task of converting and instructing. Whenever he turned the wheel of Dharma, people flocked to him from across the rivers and lakes. Although he came from a foreign realm, their immersion in the Dharma immediately dispelled all estrangement. His renown thus spread far and wide beyond the mountain ridges; those who parted the brambles and carried their packs to reach him arrived in unbroken succession like fish scales. It happened that the Sui monarch held sway over the empire and brought his might upon the southern realm. The dynastic tally [of Chen] was exhausted, and Sui forces entered the capital of Yang. Yuanguang was seized by mutinous soldiers who were about to execute him. A supreme commander, seeing from afar that a monastery stupa was on fire, rushed over to rescue it, but found no trace of fire at all. He saw only Yuanguang bound in front of the stupa, about to be put to death. Marvelling at this extraordinary sign, he immediately untied him and let him go. Such was his spiritual resonance when facing danger. Having mastered learning across Wu and Yue, Yuanguang wished to observe the customs of Zhou and Qin. In the ninth year of the Kaihuang reign, he traveled to the imperial capital. It happened that the Buddha's teaching was freshly convening and the Mahāyānasaṃgraha was newly flourishing. Bearing its literary texts in mind, he carried forward its illustrious lineage; moreover, his insightful understanding sped forth, and his reputation was proclaimed across the capital region. His achievements being fulfilled, the transmission of the Dharma to the east needed a successor. Hearing of this from afar, his native land submitted frequent memorials petitioning for his return. An imperial decree bestowed generous condolences and granted him leave to return to his homeland. Yuanguang had been away and back over several decades; the old and the young rejoiced together. The King of Silla, of the Gim clan, expressed his reverence in person, looking up to him as a sage. Yuanguang's nature was calm and leisurely, and his heart was full of universal love; his words were ever accompanied by a smile, and resentment never showed in his countenance. Memorials, petitions, and communications between states all issued from his own breast. The whole realm looked up to him with devotion, entrusting him with methods of governance and consulting him on moral instruction. This was unlike returning in embroidered robes; rather, he had petitioned to observe the kingdom. Taking the opportune moment, he spread his teachings, leaving a model that endures to this day. When he was advanced in years, he entered the palace in a palanquin. The king personally prepared his robes, medicines, and food without allowing assistants to help, hoping thereby to attain undivided merit. Such was the reverence he inspired. Shortly before his passing, the king came in person to offer comfort and entrusted to him the posthumous transmission of the Dharma, and he spoke of helping the common people as well. Auspicious omens spread across the coastal region. In the fifty-eighth year of the Geonbok era of that country, he felt slightly unwell. After seven days, leaving clear and solemn instructions, he passed away sitting upright in the Hwangnyongsa where he resided, at the age of ninety-nine, which was the fourth year of the Zhenguan reign of the Tang. At the time of his passing, celestial music filled the air to the northeast of the monastery, and an extraordinary fragrance pervaded the courtyard. Monks and laity wept and rejoiced, knowing it to be a miraculous sign. He was thereupon buried in the suburbs. The state provided regalia, and the funeral furnishings equaled those of royal protocol. Later, when a commoner's infant was stillborn—there being a local saying that if one buries [such a child] at the tomb of a person of great merit, one's lineage will never be broken—[the parent] secretly buried it beside Yuanguang's grave. That very day, thunder struck the dead infant and hurled it outside the cemetery grounds. Because of this, even those who had not harbored respect came to venerate him entirely. He had a disciple named Won-an, whose mind was keen and discerning and whose nature was fond of traveling and observing. Longing for obscure pursuits, he went north toward the nine capitals, looked eastward to Bunae, and traveled west through Yan and Wei. Later he visited the imperial capital and became thoroughly conversant with local customs. Investigating various scriptures and treatises, he mastered their grand outlines and penetrated their subtle purports; later he turned his mind to the study of the mind, following the lofty footsteps and glorious dust [of his master]. At first he resided in a capital monastery; because his practice of the path had long been celebrated, Xiao Yu, the Grand Master of Special Advancement, submitted a memorial requesting that he reside at Jinliang Monastery, which Xiao had built in Lantian. The four requisites were supplied without failing throughout the six periods of the day. Won-an once related of Yuanguang: 'Our king fell ill, and medical treatments brought no relief. He invited Yuanguang into the palace, housing him in a separate chamber, where for two periods each night he expounded profound Dharmas to him, granting the precepts and repentance. The king placed great faith and veneration in him. Once, in the initial watch of the night, the king saw Yuanguang's head shining with a golden radiance, resembling the sun wheel following his body as he approached. The queen and palace women saw it together with him. Thereupon the king renewed his supreme resolve and firmly kept [Yuanguang] at the sickbed; before long, he fully recovered.' Yuanguang widely disseminated the correct Dharma between Byeonhan and Mahan. Twice each year he lectured to train and form younger scholars. All the funds received as donations were used to maintain and build monasteries; he retained nothing for himself except his robes and begging bowl.