續高僧傳 21.22

21.22

釋曇瑗。未詳氏族。金陵人也。才術縱橫子史周綜。自幼及長以聽涉馳名。數論時宗普經陶述。而威嚴群小不妄登臨。矜持有功頗以文華自處。時或規諫之者。瑗因擺撥前習。專征鄙倍。弦韋所誥驗于耳目。由是名重京邑。同例欽焉。以戒律處世。住持為要。乃從諸講席專師十誦。功績既著學觀斯張。自爾恒當元宰。鎮講相續。有陳之世無與為隣。使夫五眾揖其風猷七貴從其津濟。瑗其有之矣。常徒講眾二百餘人。宣帝下詔國內。初受戒者夏未滿五皆參律肆。可於都邑大寺廣置聽場。仍勅瑗總知監檢明示科舉。有司准給衣食。勿使經營形累致虧功績。瑗既蒙恩詔通誨國僧。四遠被徵萬里相屬。時即搜擢明解詞義者二十餘人。一時敷訓。眾齊三百于斯時也京邑屯鬧行誦相諠。國供豐華學人無弊。不踰數載道器大增。其有學成將還本邑。瑗皆聚徒對問理事。無疑者方乃遣之。由是律學更新上聞天聽。帝又下勅榮慰。以瑗為國之僧正。令住光宅。苦辭以任。勅特許之。而栖託不競。閉門自撿。非夫眾集不妄經行。慶弔齋會了無通預。山泉林竹見便忘反。每上鍾阜諸寺偱造道賢。觸興賦詩覽物懷古。洪偃法師傲岸泉石偏見朋從。把臂郊坰同遊故苑。瑗題樹為詩曰。丹陵粉葉少。白水黍苗多。浸淫下客淚。哀怨動人歌。春蹊度旅葛。秋浦沒長莎。麋鹿自騰倚。車騎絕經過。蕭條肆野望。惆悵將如何。偃續題曰。龍田留故苑。汾水結餘波。悵望傷遊目。辛酸思緒多。涼煙慘高樹。濃露變輕蘿。澤葵猶帶井。池竹下侵荷。秋風徒自急。無復白雲歌。瑗以太建年中卒于住寺。春秋八十有二。初微疾將現。便告眾曰。生死對法凡聖俱纏。自非極位有心誰免。今將就後世力不相由。願生來講誨分有冥功。彼我齊修用為來習。不爾與世沈浮未成通濟。幸諸梵行同思此言。終事任量可依成教。言訖端坐如定欻然已逝。道俗悲泣。歎其神志明正不偶緣業。有勅依法焚之。為立白塔。建碑于寺。著十誦疏十卷戒本羯磨疏各兩卷僧家書儀四卷別集八卷。見行於世。

Śramaṇa Tanyuan, whose original clan is unknown, was a native of Jinling. His talent and arts were comprehensive, thoroughly covering the Masters and the Historians. From youth to adulthood, he was renowned for his extensive study and attendance at lectures. The systems of the Abhidharma and scholastic treatises of the time were all thoroughly mastered by him. Yet he maintained a strict dignity before the common sort, never casually visiting others, and disciplined himself with accomplishment, somewhat priding himself on his literary elegance. When contemporaries occasionally admonished him, Tanyuan thereupon shed his former habits, specifically attacked vulgarity, and took the warnings of the string and leather as verified by his own ears and eyes. From then on, his reputation weighed heavily in the capital, and his peers admired him. Considering that in abiding in the world through the monastic precepts, upholding them is essential, he attended various lecture seats and dedicated himself to mastering the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya. As his achievements became conspicuous, his scholarship and renown expanded. From that time on, he always served as a chief expositor, maintaining an unbroken succession of lectures. During the Chen dynasty, none could be his equal, causing the five assemblies to defer to his exemplary character and the seven ranks of nobles to rely upon his ferry of salvation—such was Tanyuan's stature. His regular assembly of lecture-attendants numbered over two hundred. Emperor Xuan issued an edict throughout the realm: 'Those who are newly ordained and have completed fewer than five summer retreats shall all attend vinaya academies. Large lecture grounds may be widely established in the great monasteries of the capital. Tanyuan is hereby ordered to oversee and supervise them, making the training curricula manifest. The authorities shall provide clothing and food according to standard allowances, so that worldly toils and physical fatigue do not impair their accomplishments.' Having received the gracious edict to universally instruct the monks of the realm, trainees were summoned from far and wide, following one after another across ten thousand li. Thereupon, he selected over twenty individuals who clearly understood the words and meanings to assist in giving instruction simultaneously. The assembly numbered three hundred. At this time, the capital was bustling with activity, loud with the sounds of their practice and recitation. The state offerings were bountiful, and the scholars suffered no hardships. In not more than a few years, vessels of the Way increased greatly. When any completed their studies and were to return to their native towns, Tanyuan would gather the disciples and cross-examine them on theoretical principles and practical matters; only those without doubt were sent on their way. As a result, the study of the Vinaya was renewed, and this came to the Emperor's attention. The Emperor again issued an edict of praise and comfort, appointing Tanyuan as the National Controller of Monks (Sengzheng) and ordering him to reside at Guangzhai Monastery. He earnestly declined on account of the burden of the office, and the Emperor specially granted his request. Tanyuan lived without worldly competition, keeping his doors closed and disciplining himself. Except when the community assembled, he would not casually take walks; at ceremonies of felicitation, condolence, or vegetarian feasts, he had no participation whatsoever. Whenever he saw mountain springs, groves, or bamboo, he would forget to return. He frequently went up to the various monasteries on Mount Zhongfu to visit wise men of the Way, composing poems when inspired and reflecting upon antiquity while viewing the landscape. Dharma Master Hongyan, aloof amidst the springs and rocks, showed special favor to companions who followed him; arm in arm they wandered together through the old gardens on the outskirts. Tanyuan inscribed a poem upon a tree, saying: 'Red mounds have few frosty leaves; / White waters hold abundant millet sprouts. / The tears of the humble guest flow copiously; / Sorrows and grievances stir a poignant song. / The spring footpath is crossed by wild creepers; / The autumn shore is submerged under tall sedge. / Deer leap and lean of their own accord; / Carriages and horses have ceased passing through. / In desolation I give free rein to my gaze across the wilderness; / Melancholy and crestfallen, what can be done?' Hongyan followed by inscribing: 'The dragon fields retain the former garden; / The waters of the Fen stir lingering waves. / Gazing sorrowfully wounds the wandering eye; / Bitterness and grief evoke many a train of thought. / Chilly mist darkens the tall trees; / Heavy dew transforms the delicate creepers. / Pond mallow still rings the well; / Marsh bamboo encroaches below upon the lotus. / The autumn wind is vainly urgent in its haste; / No longer is heard the Song of the White Clouds.' During the Taijian era, Tanyuan died at his resident monastery at the age of eighty-two. When a slight illness first appeared, he told the assembly: 'Birth and death are a reciprocal dharma, entangling the common person and the sage alike. Unless one is at the ultimate stage, who among those with consciousness can escape them? Now I am about to go to the next world, for physical strength is beyond one's control. I vow that through my lifetime of lecture-instruction, there may be some unseen merit. May you and I practice together, using this as the habit for future lives. Otherwise, sinking and floating with the world, no complete salvation will be achieved. May all who pursue pure practice reflect upon these words together. In the final arrangements, act according to capacity and follow the established teachings.' Having finished speaking, he sat upright as if in samādhi and suddenly passed away. Monks and laypeople wept with grief, sighing that his spiritual resolve was clear and upright, unfettered by mundane conditions and karma. There was an imperial edict ordering that he be cremated according to the Dharma; a white pagoda was erected for him, and a stele was set up at the monastery. He composed a commentary on the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya in ten fascicles, commentaries on the Prātimokṣa and the Karmavācanā in two fascicles each, the Formularies for Monastics (Sengjia shuyi) in four fascicles, and a separate collection of works in eight fascicles, all of which circulate in the world.