續高僧傳 22.21

Let us attempt to evaluate this in discussion: Ever since the beneficial advent of the King of the Dharma, wishing to purify the two deaths and eliminate the three obstructions, the vast net of teachings was cast wide and spread throughout the realms of becoming. Though afflictions and encumbrances multiply, they arise solely from the three karmic activities. Teachings were established in accordance with karma, and thus the threefold training arose. The precepts are fundamentally to prevent wrongdoing, truly matching body and speech. Meditation is solely to still disorder, restraining the source of the mind. Wisdom takes up the defense against crookedness, its clarity and brightness extinguishing delusion. These three dharmas rely on one another, their significance modeling the holy standard. Therefore the treatises say: "Precepts are like catching a thief; meditation is like binding a thief; wisdom is like killing a thief." The thief refers to afflictions and confusions, which cannot be eradicated suddenly; since achievement comes from gradual subjugation, this purport was established. Were it not for possessing the precepts and cultivating meditation, how could one deeply understand the obstructions and afflictions? Clear wisdom observes and investigates, clearly perceiving the underlying drives and entanglements. Once the erroneous grasp of a self is melted away, karmic deeds do not accumulate. Tracing its origin, the achievement lies in pure precepts; holding up its remedy, the virtue lies in correct wisdom. The sūtras praise them as capable of generating [all qualities]—how could it be otherwise? This enables the five vehicles to ride abreast along the path of precepts, and the multitude of sages to follow shoulder to shoulder along the avenue of practice, extending blessings to the four kinds of beings and broadly sustaining the lineage for ten thousand years. Were it not for the virtue of precepts, how could one flourish? From the multiple statements by the Golden River to the assembly of teachings on Vulture Peak, the age revered profound savour, and the Tao suffused the pure source. Although different teachings were established, weighing transgressions as light or heavy according to circumstances, those who adhered to them did not deviate; joining the sacred essence and intention, neither contradicted the other. However, the Sthaviras and the Mahāsāṃghikas first divided at the site of the council. The five schools and eighteen branches flowed into separate sects after a hundred years; these are fully listed in former chronicles, and their sectarian doctrines are displayed alike. After the Vinayapiṭaka had long been divided and first reached the Eastern Xia, the Sarvāstivāda's Ten Recitations was the single text most widely promulgated and upheld. This was truly because the vinayadhara Qingmu expounded it during the Jin dynasty, and Huiyuan of Mount Lu praised it and forged it into a school. Thereafter, Qu and Ying parted company to pursue their courses, while You and Yuan surged like waves within the Buddhist fold; it made uniform the Jiang and Huai rivers, held in undivided adherence. Yet one must regret that ordination followed the Fourfold Vinaya while daily observance relied on the Ten Recitations; this can be subject to deliberation. As for the next transmitted text, the Dharmaguptaka's Fourfold Vinaya was translated under the Yao Qin, but was first expounded under the Northern Wei. This was because the treatise master Red Beard initially recited and transmitted it, but before he could unfold discussions and instruction, he soon returned to foreign lands, and the students in this region completely lacked any means of maintaining it. Only when one came to Daochuang was a lecture hall finally opened. In the time of Emperor Wen of Song, the Mahīśāsaka's Fivefold Vinaya was translated in the capital of Yang. Handed down by Buddhajīva, Daosheng and Huiyan wielded the brush; its text is concise and essential, highly worthy of broad dissemination. Yet the master craftsman laid down his axe, and its savor was cut short; is this not lamentable? Although one heard of coastal exegeses and Fayuan of Fenyang's analytical phrasing, when searching into them, names and realities fell far short; it is a pity that this splendid canon lingered in vain in the Divine Continent. As for the Kaśyapīya's Mukti Vinaya, the Indic manuscript had long been transmitted, but there was no one to translate it; only the prātimokṣa was produced to circulate in the world. Its classes of offenses and other tenets have no different path, yet worldly proverbs and erroneous practices have biasedly cluttered the ignorant throng. The Vātsīputrīya Vinaya has not yet been transmitted. What is presently listed in the canon as the Mahāsāṃghika Vinaya is what was transmitted by the fundamental Mahāsāṃghika, not that which arose from the five sects a hundred years later. Summarizing the branches of the five schools, this land has already obtained four. If one considers subsuming the branches into the root, then the two divisions are their origin, and this land has already obtained one. As for the other various works, most are operational procedures compiled and related by the sages of the Western Regions; their categories divide naturally among themselves, and as their circumstances and narrations are difficult to condense, I speak of them only in brief. Since the sun of wisdom has set and the flow of the Dharma spreads abroad, among all practices of consequence, none surpasses these scriptures. This is truly because anchoring oneself to external forms binds the emotions, and the mind's actions are easy to measure; the criteria of movement and stillness truly harmonize with dignified decorum. Ordinary, foolish beings in their erroneous practices behold the forms and promote goodness; therefore, when the Vinaya was instituted out of causes and conditions, it was rare for deviations to occur. If one carefully examines the lecturing guides and the discerning masters who uphold and observe them, their views and conceptions diverge widely, each showing off his intellectual prowess; their sectarian abrogations and establishments, adoptions and rejections, are hard to keep constant. Before the vision of study has been fully unfolded, one easily begins to set forth interpretations. How is this evident? Take, for instance, the single ritual of receiving full ordination: it is the original foundation of the three sages, and each school sets forth its essentials, thoroughly expanding upon the attendant forms. When different schools gather for ordination, the proceedings spread out like stars; yet when receiving it and clarifying its attendant observance, they must still harmonize like matching tallies. If one examines the practitioners of rituals, regional distinctions emerge; but when pursuing the source of receiving precepts, the tradition traces back to the Fourfold Vinaya. Nowadays, people follow their studies and display appearances without patterning after the models of the ancients; suppressing and rejecting, they throw themselves into whatever they please, entrusting themselves to delusion. This can be called an absence of instruction between teacher and disciple, rendering teaching devoid of merit; it is also that vows and practices follow divergent paths, and capacities and views are mutually distorted. This confusion and blending has persisted for over two hundred years; is it not because transmission and dissemination lacked the right men, thus causing standard odes to drift into the music of Zheng? Today, all is unified under the Tang realm, universally practicing the tradition of the Fourfold Vinaya; hence, from beginning to end, receiving precepts and following observances hardly diverge in meaning. Though its protection and containment are vast, its source can be traced. From the first unfolding of Vinaya commentaries, the master was named Fachong. During the reign of Emperor Xiaowen of the Northern Wei, on the northern terrace, he spread the tradition; passing it down orally, he was honored by his contemporaries. The śramaṇa Daofu succeeded to Cong's heritage and compiled a six-fascicle commentary, but it was merely a broad structural outline; as for raised doctrinal discussions, none were heard in the world. At that time, the monastic community's relish for the Way was still pure, words and actions were handed down from one to another; they revered and practiced what they heard, dedicating themselves to dwelling in virtue without leisure for extraneous searches. In the late Wei and early Qi, Huiguang dwelt in the world; with Guṇabhadra as his principal model, he stood as an exemplar in propagating the principles. He newly composed commentaries and extensively divided the avenues of learning. His scholarly reputation and prestige spread continuously like cloud-capped peaks; the brilliance of his practice and virtue shone as brightly as the sun and moon. Whenever he opened an exposition, a thousand monks sat in ranks, vying to utter pure words, each demonstrating distinct eloquence. Fixed into fascicles, they were universally called renowned masters. However, Guang first received the Dhyāna tradition and only later took the Vinaya's rules as his teacher; the glorious model of the Great Sage was fully present in him. Thus the world praised this man, whose practice and understanding topped all others—and truly with good reason! There were three Vinaya masters of schools: Daoyun, Zhihui, and Fayuan. Walking in his footsteps to transmit the lamp, each set forth renowned teachings. Daoyun was the first to compose a nine-fascicle commentary, which was disseminated in his time; his disciples flourished throughout the Eastern Xia. Next, Zhihui produced a commentary that abridged Daoyun's into two fascicles; concise and truly fine, its path had few divergences. Its merit lay in its abridged text, but its flaw lay in its capacity to instruct. However, Daoyun was bold in doctrinal principles, and his discussions were truly extensive; Zhihui, on the other hand, was exacting with textual forms, commended by assemblies of the Dharma, and worldly proverbs believed he had thoroughly grasped the vital spirit from beginning to end. Fayuan of Fenyang glanced at the two houses and opened up another lineage; his compositions, abstracts, and commentaries were no fewer than those before him. In his criticisms and examinations he was exacting with the Vinaya text; in questions of right and wrong he measured by practical procedures. Relying solely on literal attachment, he was somewhat hindered from profound comprehension; yet his conversion spread throughout Bingzhou and the northern borders, and so it was. As for the rest of the Vinaya craftsmen, such as Lihong, Yinle, Zunshen, and Dan, some cultivated the regions of Zheng and Wei, while others opened frontiers in Yan and Zhao.

Some guided [followers] through Zhou and Qin, or stirred up dust in Qi and Lu. None did not take Yunshu as their master and run abreast in their age. Though they produced notes and commentaries, they can be spoken of in brief. Yet Dao founded the tradition in Guanzhong, flourishing as the main school in the imperial capital; conferring both the scriptures and the Vinaya, his achievement was truly high. At that time the world esteemed the Mahāsāṃghika Vinaya, yet he was able concurrently to practice the Dharmaguptaka Four-Part Vinaya. Taking the high seat, he resolved doubts, and his followers were like a flowing stream. Whenever formidable adversaries approached, they returned with arrows in their mouths. Yet Zun unified his spirit and resolve, unchanging in voice and expression. From this, both men and Dharma took refuge in him; he may be said to have reached the height of practice. Vinaya Master Zhishou received this teaching; his lineage was vast and prosperous, his inquiries ever deeper. At that time of cloud and thunder, he took up the succession and spread the transformation; his school of learning reached far and wide, yet he produced very few written compositions. Was this not because, having widely mastered the hundred masters, they all took a single rule as their guide? Even though one wished to apply the brush, there were no words that could fully convey it. It happened that Li, Liang, Xing, Pan, Shuo, Sheng, and Zang arose: some transmitted the Way to the eastern rivers, and some won praise in the southern regions. Among them, the eminent disciples did not exceed [those of] the Wei capital; they produced commentaries and put them into practice, but their textual lineages were indeed few. As for the rest, their names were renowned in single regions, but they left no written records. Moreover, the propagation of their teachings met with resistance and difficulty, mostly obscured in the minds of their contemporaries. Was it not because the regulations lie at the head of the sections, so that those who violated them hated to hear of their own faults? Alas! The Vinaya is the life of the Dharma: when it is promoted, this life is preserved; now, if one does not wish to promote it, the true Dharma will perish. This is also profoundly lamentable. Looking upon the two piṭakas of concentration and wisdom, their principle lies in pervasive clarity. In the Vinaya school, human sentiments are entangled and affairs are confined; affairs are diverse and multifarious. Earlier and later rules differ; permissions and prohibitions suit particular circumstances. How could one take a single rule as standard? In the other two piṭakas, the meaning lies in covert communion; penetrating understanding and knowing subtlety are called harmonizing with the right. Therefore heavenly immortals and lesser sages accommodate capacities to illuminate the Way, mutually expounding subtle principles to open and clarify the tasks of wisdom; all are called the supreme teaching and sealed to become sūtras. But if based on the Vinaya school, one strictly follows the Buddha's admonitions; the various sages, great and small, do not recklessly expound it. What is the reason for this? It is truly because within the bounds of the teachings, for the regular norms and constant decorum of the internal assembly, the monastic jewel is venerable, and it cannot be taught by anyone else. Unless one's rank reaches the utmost sage, who would dare set his mind to it? Hence the text says: 'I do not even entrust the monastic assembly to Śāriputra, how much less to other men?' Therefore, whether the regulations made are heavy or light, they all comply with established teaching; even if there are doubts, they are still referred to the Buddha to be resolved. Though commentaries were composed with detailed expositions, they did not create anew. This is why the final testament made four behests, taking the precepts as the great master; and at the three councils turning the Dharma wheel, this text was the first to be promoted. The treatise calls it the 'longevity of the Dharma'—how could this be false? Formerly, before the Cranes' Trees, those who upheld the Vinaya were many. Among the foremost, the Bull King was the first: his past karma not yet exhausted, he migrated to dwell in a heavenly chamber. Next in succession was the one named Upāli: five hundred presented their achievements, yet he was supreme in upholding [the precepts]. Consequently, for more than forty years, the penal codes for the seven assemblies were formulated according to infractions, mostly settled directly before [the Buddha]. As for upholding and violating, permission and prohibition, questioning and bringing forth punitive rituals, all were commanded to be manifested and entrusted to his supervision. Although the twenty-four reliances collectively transmitted the correct norms, models for later generations must take this text as ancestor. When the practice of the precepts was first founded in the eastern land, it was during the Jiaping era of Cao Wei that the full ordination was first widely propagated. Before then, the Dharma assembly was uniformly called 'resting compassion' (śramaṇa); masters and disciples were just heard of, merely departing from secular life. When performing karmans, they relied upon the tradition of Dharmarakṣa; when discussing poṣadha, they chanted the precepts of the Mahāsāṃghika Vinaya. When the net of teaching was first opened, whatever was obtained became the standard; is that not strange to uphold? In the Western Jin, devotion to the Dharma gradually developed guidelines. The Central Plains fell into chaos, and weapons of war clashed repeatedly. Luoyi was desolate and ruined; south of the Wei River lay scorched ash. The assembly of Zhu Dharmarakṣa at the Blue Gate could only roll up their scrolls and cherish them in their bosoms; the followers of Kang Senghui in the Huangwu era were not sufficient to be gathered and cited. Furthermore, Sun Hao was cruel and tyrannical, and Tuoba Tao was unbenevolent: surrounding monasteries with deployed troops, they slaughtered the Śākya clan. Beside Pingcheng, eminent monks lay dead; on the banks of the Yellow River, Indian monks abandoned their treasures. Casting aside their corpses with nowhere to rest, how could the Vinaya be understood? At that time, Mitian (Dao'an) broadly expanded the models and decorum. The regular rules of the monastic assembly all conformed to the precept statutes; amid wars and famines colliding, the regulations were strict and meticulous, as narrated extensively in the previous biographies. Thus Dao'an raised three rules to address the needs of the time; gathering conditions and effecting rescue, he succeeded in his tasks. But where the teaching was incomplete and not yet widespread, it necessarily relied on transmission. The Vinaya [of the Vibhāṣā] was first transmitted by Dao'an; the text was extremely rough and sketchy, providing only a rough knowledge of the general outline. As for examining its correct rules, it was truly unheard of. Does not promotion depend on the person? Dao'an undertook this responsibility. Afterwards, Huiyuan, Sengrui, Sengyuan, and Fayang all practiced this style of the gate; in both Qin and Jin, the transformation of the Dharma was gloriously illuminated, truly through their efforts. From that time forth, the north and south split into two, and the abodes of maintenance were distinct. Each set forth outlines and details, and mutually recommended pure followers. Thus Mount Qi's Xixia promoted the luminous pure land, while Qinchuan's Lingyin established ordination platforms. Monks arranged like wild geese received offerings; the summer retreats where the ordination was explained and re-received were heard of—such were their affairs. If men and the Dharma reflect each other, then practice and understanding assist one another. If there is obscurity, the bond is severed; when none attain it in that age, the spirit is buried in the earth. Therefore, among confused scholars in the world, there are four streams; let me try to briefly cite them. As for those who, facing confusion and blame, take delight in the Mahāyāna: their aspirations are frivolous and empty, their feelings entirely dedicated to greedy attachment. Hence some cast aside the net of precepts and abandon all proper deportment; seeing those who uphold the Vinaya, they belittle them as Hīnayāna; praising those who violate pure precepts, they esteem them as the Great Way. They cite the analogies that yellow leaves are real gold, and that a wooden horse cannot reach far. They scold, refute, and cast aside [the Vinaya] as if tossing away grass and dirt. This is all because their bodies are deficient in practice and their discipline is stained with dust; ashamed that they themselves cannot attain pure realization, and arrogant about being burdened by strict regulations, they immediately turn their feelings to study the Great [Vehicle] to open up their minds. They trample upon the śrāvakas and praise the bodhisattvas. Following their inclinations, they fear falling into pits and traps; seeking understanding, they crookedly flatter their companions. Such harboring of feelings cannot be called fair penetration; seeking their minds with this, their minds can well be known! Why not read the Mahāyāna broadly to open the path of wisdom, investigate the holy intention, and see if it conforms to worldly dust? Thus the practice of women spoken of in the Śrīmālādevī Sūtra still recognizes that the Vinaya is precisely the study of the Mahāyāna; and the complete cultivation of the beginner illuminated at that time still understands that the Vinaya deportment is precisely the bodhisattva piṭaka. How much more so for those who thoroughly understand principle and teaching, embody transformation, and know the spirit! Their understanding does not fall short of the superior sages; how could their practice be deficient among the lower assembly? If practice inevitably contradicts understanding, it is not understanding. Grasping words without discerning meaning, abandoning wisdom to follow various consciousnesses—such a company in boundless saṃsāra is indeed hard to describe. For ordinary secular affairs, one examines oneself thrice and reflects in nine ways; what the supramundane elucidates are the four reliances and the eightfold noble path. Falling below this, it is not worth speaking of. Therefore, the two teachings of Great and Small, in being cultivated according to their marks, both consist in detachment from grasping—how could it be mere clinging?

If one harbors such views, they are no different from the non-Buddhists; both the partial and complete sūtras and treatises set forth this error. The receipt of the precepts merely opens the door to an empty vow, whereas compliance with the precepts requires adherence to actual practice. Knowing how to receive them without understanding how to comply with them, and cultivating the vow without the corresponding practice, may truly be called a single wheel that cannot roll upon the earth, or broken wings that cause one to fall from the sky. How true this is! Those in the world who despise these precepts do so because they are vexed and weary in body and mind, worn out by observing and transgressing; thus they join in slighting and belittling them, pointing to them as a lesser path, [saying] that what is lesser may be cast aside and should be abandoned at once. When their self-important sentiments grow strong, they hold their tongues without a reply. Truly, in guiding a lineage of learning, it cannot be promoted without the precepts; in sustaining good forms of practice, it cannot be established without the precepts. It is just as when walking one must pass through the door, and when speaking there must be a reason. Thus, when fame and profit are at hand, they contend over ranks and monastic age, straightening their countenances; and when a master confers the venerable model, they hasten to the altar platform and adjust their sashes. Is this not to boldly grasp the precepts with a greedy, resolute heart and serve them as a teacher, yet when practice abandons the fundamental guidelines, to discard the precepts and fling them into ditches? Their single-minded intent lies in their original poisons, while taking and leaving are crafted within their minds. That such people should broadly deliver others is something I truly have never dared to hear. This is loving the great and detesting the small: the first delusion. If one can lock the doors of body and mouth, adhere to the phenomenal forms and uphold them, empty and quiet thoughts and cognition, and embody the Way and cherish virtue, then Dao'an, Huiyuan, Faguang, and Sengping are such men. Scholars of the world who study the treatises differentiate words and numbers: skirting the Mahāyāna while treading the small paths, abandoning the original fish-trap to search for phrases, at times connecting realms and bonds, at times distinguishing form and mind, the mutual subsumption of the one practice and six stages, and the vast abundance of doctrinal teachings. The array of sages preserved them for the practice of the Way, yet the ordinary scholar stops at sound and reputation. Thereupon they spend their whole lives in collation and investigation, extensively combining verbal meanings, looking down upon the admonitions of the precepts, and infringing upon form and sound. Heterodox speeches abound upon their lips, and heterodox pursuits fill their breasts. They call one holding an almsbowl a dull fellow, and dub one carrying a water pitcher a stripling. When reciting the precepts at the half-month, they recite only the coarse words; and receiving and keeping robes and bowls they make exceedingly troublesome and trivial. They then invert the proper robes, thunder with their voices like drums, mock the venerable decorum, and look askance at the sūtras and vinaya. Consequently, relying on medicines and accepting pure food are severed forever from their persons, and in restraining through precepts to sustain [the Dharma] their mouths are permanently sealed. Have they not heard of the fundamental practices? If they knew the practices, could they be like this? They merely spout flames from the tips of their tongues, never having rounded it into a restraint of the mind. This is honoring the lofty and boasting of one's merits while treating the basic foundation as base and abandoning it: the second delusion. If one can deeply investigate the nature of the propensities and wondrously understand how to cultivate and overcome them, then the movements of thought are merely matched to the person and the matter; but if one only illuminates the dusts of consciousness, I do not yet know what worthy would deserve this title. The treatise master Huixiu established a breeze of renown; yet his devotion to the great was profound in the small, and his bringing truth to light again shone upon its beauty. Furthermore, there are late ordinary persons who practice merit: of a naturally crude and wild nature, they read broadly and recite much; their personal views are exceptionally inflated, and they partially neglect the categories of the precepts, saying that the rules of lecturers are not as good as 'constantly drinking pure milk to satisfy my mind and spirit; residing quietly in secluded leisure, what fault can reach me?' These are all people who have never heard of religious practice, and when they act they are hesitant and uncertain; without learning and knowledge, their thoughts entangle and gather. Therefore, every time there are lectures and listeners, with rows of monks seated in ranks, few are those who apply themselves to drilling and investigating the matter. If those who study still do not understand, how much less those who do not study! An ox's hair and a unicorn's horn are quite close to the truth. Furthermore, there are those who build pagodas and monasteries, and lay out fields and gardens: raising shovels and hauling timber, they do not consider the lives of creatures; scorching the plains and irrigating the lowlands, how do they avoid living beings? Fearing only that their meritorious works will not be accomplished, they truly harbor no mercy or sorrow. This is not to have heard the clear admonitions of the Great Sage. The three characteristics of the Ten Recitations are present in precisely such people. Or they say that committing sin for the sake of merit allows merit and error to offset each other: this again is not to have heard the initial prohibitions of the vinaya causes and conditions. It was only on account of repairing a Buddha hall that the precept against digging the ground was instituted, the intent being to rein in the mind in accordance with thoughts and phenomenal forms, rather than merely the fault of useless undertakings. Thus, among the men of the world who contemplate subtleties and pursue tranquility, those who can be summoned and drawn in are truly few, whereas among the men of restless agitation and worldly management, those who throw themselves forward are many. The coarse teaching is easy to absorb, but the wondrous principle is difficult to propagate: this is the third delusion. If one can rely upon the scriptural practices without exceeding the constant rules, which is the same as the worthy and holy, one should truly propagate and protect it. As when Fotudeng's nine hundred temples and spiritual Dao shone upon the capital of the Zhao, and Huiyuan's Mount Lu did not alter and the virtue of his precepts flowed through the Jin dynasty: these can serve as tortoises and mirrors. Those who exclusively uphold the Vinaya and men of staunch and upright resolve, having lightly recited the occasions of the precepts and roughly knowing the texts and phrases, at times ascend the prominent seat to lead the assembly and expound, yet the waters of pride cover their minds and they no longer rely on study. This is not having heard the pure admonitions of the clear Vinaya. Only when the Dharma-body is fully perfected does one escape master and pupil; yet nowadays they easily follow contentment and do not consider broad propagation. Looking askance like fish at the clouds, hopping like sparrows in the monastic ranks, [they say,] 'Only I am a vinayadhara, while all the rest merely follow the vinaya.' Looking at the various sūtras and treatises, they treat them like stony fields; glancing sideways at high reputations, they reckon them like darnel and tares. Those who know the Dharma are rare in the world; who can distinguish the fragrant from the foul? Arbitrarily applying the regulations and punishments, right and wrong are thoroughly thrown into confusion. Light and heavy depend on their own estimation; misfortune and blessing arise from their own minds. Their utterings become penalties, never twice examined. 'Transmitting without practicing' is despised in the school of Confucius; 'practicing without the scriptures' is admonished in the school of Śākya. How does this differ from reading the Rites while harboring arrogance, or chanting the Changes while ignoring yin and yang? Take heed from these words: a good ending requires a good beginning. But because the times have encountered the Semblance Age and the Dharma has become decadent and thin, the heterodox conditions of the vinaya schools and the objects of reliance are numerous. All this is because they initially sought only to recite words and phrases, marking lines on paper slips and writing on whips to memorize on palms. Where a text existed, they followed and recited it; where it was lacking, they fell silent. Even if there were divergent evidence, they had no way to resolve it, and straightway declared that because the vinaya had no explicit ruling, it was therefore permitted by the former sages. Thereupon they braved the world and made light of life, recklessly practicing passages and phrases: drinking apricot decoction they counted as a pure fast; accumulating money and treasures they counted as a minor infraction; the sitting cloth needed no cutting and purification; the size of the almsbowl did not necessarily follow the Zhou standard. These are all blunter than lead blades, yet easily taken as models to emulate: this is the fourth delusion. If one can broadly seek among the various canons and fully examine what to practice and avoid, imbibing the four seals and illuminating the three regulations, then when making decisions in response to circumstances, text and principle will follow each other; and when synthesizing and citing precedents, others and oneself will understand alike. Where in the world is there such a one to guide the multitude? Indeed, the fish-trap of the vinaya traps observing and transgressing; the study of concentration and wisdom aims at cultivating and overcoming. Cultivating, then disordered confusions can be dissolved; overcoming, then the spiritual capacity becomes clear and far-reaching. As for the rest who drift about in passages and phrases, it is equal to discarding the moon and grasping the fingertip; and to boastfully exaggerate the doctrinal forms is like chanting the names of medicines while failing to cure the disease. When commentators attempt to unfold the four studies, they ultimately fall into two delusions. Without words, how could speech be conveyed? How could a partitioned mind exhaust it? Thus the sūtra declares: 'All kinds of dharmas and parables are all aimed at freedom from attachment.' The vinaya also relates: 'Always be single-minded, mindful of eliminating all hindrances.' Truly harboring this, I have attempted this narrative.

May these slight admonitions serve as an immediate mirror, and furthermore be clearly illuminated for posterity.