續高僧傳 18.26

18.26

Śramaṇa Benji, surnamed Song, was a native of Jiexiu in Xihe. His father and grandfather did not serve kings or nobles, escaping the world without resentment; when pressed by official appointments, they hung up their caps and returned home. In his childhood, Ji had the wisdom of an adult. When he first reached the age for schooling, he carried his classics and pursued his studies, paying attention to both the Six Classics and the Three Histories. Although these were called lesser paths, he grasped their general import. Hence, his peers in school spread double mats to invite his discourse. Later, after long pondering and analysis, he had a sudden great awakening and said, “These are truly the dregs of the universe; why should they encumber one's pure understanding?” He then took refuge in the teachings of Śākya, bade farewell to his parents, and entered pravrajyā. In the first year of Kaihuang, he was eighteen years of age. His precepts and dhyāna grew ever purer, and his correct practice became increasingly flourishing. He did not wear new or fancy clothing, severing attachment and desire; he personally practiced forbearance, taking pity on those of excessive pride. Having extensively read the sūtras and treatises, he held them by heart; his explanations and deductions succeeded one another in continuous flow. At the time, observers marveled at his eloquence. It happened that Dhyāna Master Xinxing founded a separate school, encompassing former masters and setting an example for future sages. Hearing of this, Ji praised it with deep admiration, joyfully facing north to receive the lineage; pouring water from one vase to another could not serve as a better analogy, so perfectly did they harmonize without divergence. Because Xinxing had first compiled and recorded in the regions east of the mountains, and had no written texts with him, he orally recounted them to Ji, who thoroughly grasped their profound subtleties. After Xinxing passed away, the compiled records finally arrived. Ji read the texts and lectured on them immediately without the slightest hesitation or delay. Although he had not seen the later formulations beforehand, his earlier transmissions secretly matched them; at the time, the five assemblies and the separate school honored and revered him deeply. He composed the *Treatise on the Ten Matters One Dares Not Measure* in six fascicles, whose meaning and prose were clear and graceful, and it was widely transmitted. Thenceforth, he dedicated himself to propagating the separate collection, and his renown rose high above the assemblies. On the twelfth day of the ninth month of the eleventh year of Daye, he passed away at Cimen Monastery where he resided, at the age of fifty-four. His disciples Daoxun and Daoshu dutifully observed the śītavana rites, afterwards erecting a white stūpa beneath the Zhongnan Mountains and raising an inscription to manifest his virtues. He had a younger brother named Shanzhi, who was endowed by heaven with profound perception and walked far above the mundane world. Following Master Xinxing, he held the teachings to heart and requested instruction, fathoming the deep and discerning the subtle, selecting minutiae with precision. Entering the chamber and approaching the subtle point, he thoroughly exhausted the storehouse of principle. He once used only a fourth part of his nourishment to sustain his physical burdens; throughout the entire summer, he stood on one foot, concentrating his thoughts to contemplate the Buddha—truly one who attained the heights of diligent exertion. Xinxing respectfully bowed to his demeanor and refined demeanor, and the multitude was delighted; he could truly be called one who subdues people through virtue. He composed the *Sudden Teaching of the One Vehicle* in twenty fascicles, establishing rituals suited to the times which were observed and circulated together. In the third year of Daye, he passed away, and his disciples buried him adjacent to the right side of Xinxing's tomb. Xun possessed the ability to summarize and categorize, while Shu excelled in leading and guiding discourses. When they set forth the teachings, no leaders of the tradition could match them. Whenever they briefly opened a lecture seat, monastics and laity gathered like clouds, their voices and guidance inspiring resonance and respect. In later times, it is feared their traces can hardly be recovered.