續高僧傳 3
English (machine translation) 3
- Language
- English
Contents
- 3.8 — 6 parts
3.1
Compiled by the śramaṇa Shi Daoxuan of Ximing Monastery in the Great Tang
3.2
Section on Translators of Scriptures, Part Three (three main biographies)
3.3
Biography 1: The śramaṇa Prabhākaramitra of Central India at Shengguang Monastery in the Tang capital
3.4
Biography 2: The śramaṇa Shi Huize of Qingchan Monastery in the Tang capital
3.5
Biography 3: The śramaṇa Shi Huijing of Jiguo Monastery in the Tang capital
3.6
Prabhākaramitra—translated into Chinese as 'Maker of Light-Friend', or abbreviated as Bopo, here translated as 'Light-Wisdom'—was a native of Central India. He was originally of kṣatriya royal stock, with the clan name Kṣatriya. At the age of ten he left home [to become a monk] and studied under his master, reciting one lakṣa of Mahāyāna scriptures, about one hundred thousand verses. After receiving full ordination he studied the Vinayapiṭaka; thoroughly versed in the net of precepts, his mind delighted in dhyāna contemplation. He also followed eminent and virtuous teachers to cultivate the practice of concentration. Because he practiced without ceasing, after twelve years he then traveled south to Nālandā Monastery in the country of Magadha. There he encountered the treatise master Śīlabhadra vigorously propagating the Treatise on the Seventeen Grounds. He thereupon attended his lectures and gathered [its teachings]; because this treatise also clarifies the Hīnayāna teachings, he additionally recited one lakṣa of verses from various Hīnayāna treatises. Bopo's discernment was keen and penetrating, and his character was deep and lofty. Thoroughly versed in both Buddhist and non-Buddhist lore, he investigated both the Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna with precision. As for transmitting the lamp and teaching others, he was deferred to by his peers. Among the disciples who received his transformative teaching, Prajñāindravarmā and others achieved great scholarly merit and deeply mastered the essential outlines of doctrine; he is presently leading disciples to guide and transform his native land, being held in great esteem by its king and ministers. However, as an ordained son of the Śākya clan, he would not linger in one place, moving every six months and resigning himself to conditions without fixity. Learning that the northern barbarians were greedy and fierce, and not yet cognizant of righteousness, and knowing that the Dharma relies on people to propagate it, he boldly wished to transmit and transform them. Thereupon, together with ten monks and laymen, he journeyed step by step northward until he reached the court of the Yabghu Qaghan of the Western Region. He instructed and exhorted them with the Dharma for not even a full ten days before he was profoundly trusted and respected by the barbarian lord. He was provided with daily rations for twenty people and attended to morning and evening. His companions, both monastic and lay, were all treated with great honor; their generated merit and heightened reverence were daily redoubled compared to before. In the ninth year of the Wude era, the Prince of Gaoping was sent as an envoy to the barbarians and consequently met him. Receiving his influence, [the prince] was about to undertake his return east, but the Yabghu and his ministers were reluctant to part with him and would not permit it. The Prince thereupon memorialized the throne, and an imperial edict was issued summoning him to enter [the capital]. He thus came with the Prince of Gaoping to have an audience with the Emperor. In the twelfth month of that year, he arrived at the capital, and was ordered by imperial decree to reside at Xingshan Monastery. The outstanding figures of the Buddhist community all paid visits to him. Whenever there were passages in the transmitted scriptures and doctrines from antiquity whose meaning had not yet been fully grasped, he laid bare their lineages and harmonized their similarities and differences. His refutations of inner [Buddhist] and outer [non-Buddhist] attachments were as clear as looking at one's own palm; in responding to queries and confronting difficulties, his explications were without hindrance. A report was submitted to the Emperor, and [Prabhākaramitra] received an audience within the inner palace. He personally expounded the principles of the Dharma without any flaw in his responses. He was granted forty bolts of colored silk and one newly tailored robe from the palace, while the rations and provisions for the five monks he had brought along were augmented, with repeated inquiries of solace and receptions of extraordinary honor. In the third month of the third year [of the Zhenguan era], the Emperor, considering that worldly existences are not blissful and that both self and objects are empty, and reflecting that for the true essentials none surpassed the Buddhist scriptures—how could the utmost dissemination not consist in translating and transmitting them?—issued an edict to the relevant authorities to search out and summon nineteen men of great virtue who were fully versed in the three teachings to initiate translation work at Daxingshan Monastery. Śramaṇa Huicheng and others verified the meaning; Śramaṇa Xuanmo and others translated the language; and śramaṇas Huize, Huijing, Huiming, Falin, and others polished the prose. In addition, an imperial edict ordered the Pillar of State and Left Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs Fang Xuanling, and the Cavalier Attendant-in-Ordinary and Supervisor of the Household of the Crown Prince Du Zhenglun, to assist in the collation and revision. The Grand Master of Splendid Happiness and Chamberlain for the National Treasury Xiao Jing was placed in overall charge as supervisor. The hundred offices supplied the four requisites in abundance and magnificence. They first translated the Ratnatārā Sūtra, then moved to Shengguang Monastery, where they also translated the Prajñāpradīpa and the Mahāyāna-sūtrālaṃkāra, totaling three works in thirty-five fascicles. By the winter of the sixth year, the collation was complete and the copying was finished. The relevant officials read them in detail and then submitted a memorial to the throne. An imperial decree ordered that ten copies of each be made and distributed throughout the realm, and Bopo was granted one hundred bolts of fabric, with varying amounts of bundled silk given to the other participating translation monks. An imperial edict also commanded Li Baiyao, Mentor to the Crown Prince, to compose a preface, which is fully recorded at the head of the treatise. Bopo's intent lay in transmitting the Dharma; his aspirations were as taut as a bowstring. Yet the eminent virtues of that era were selfishly concerned with their own interests. Someone said: 'Bopo is opportunistically seizing contemporary fame to speed his reputation for posterity; thus he gathers renowned scholars while abandoning the lecturing on scriptures and treatises. This is not the time to widely propagate [the Dharma].' At that time there was a śramaṇa named Lingjia, outstanding and preeminent, who subtly comprehended the opportune moment. Addressing the supervising commissioner, he fully explained the principles of the matter, saying: 'Bopo has journeyed far to cast his lot with the Eastern Xia, his mind estranged from fame and profit. He wishes to make the Dao flow for a thousand years and his voice resound with ancient times. Formerly, in the two dynasties of the Fu and the Yao, the scholars translating scriptures numbered three thousand. Now, under the Great Tang, the translators do not exceed twenty. The intention is to have illuminated virtue jointly certify [the work] so that its trustworthiness will not be mere talk, enabling future generations to follow it clearly without current doubts.' Those of understanding unanimously agreed, and [the opposition] subsequently did not take effect. At that time, the Crown Prince contracted an illness and numerous treatments proved ineffective. An imperial edict was issued summoning Bopo into the inner palace. For more than one hundred days, his personal answers to royal inquiries never fell short of the Emperor's intent. When the illness gradually abated, he took his leave and returned to his original monastery. He was rewarded with sixty bolts of patterned damask and silk, along with ten sets of seasonal vestments. Bopo had vowed to transmit the transformative teachings of the Dharma without fear of hardship or danger. Traversing the Congling Mountains from afar, he had arrived in Cīnasthāna, the journey extending over more than forty thousand [li]. Personally carrying Indic manuscripts, he had hoped to translate them all. He did not foresee that the eminent talents [of China] would abandon the imperial edicts; his original aspiration fell into ruins, and his noble sentiments found no outlet. Consequently, he fell ill and knew himself to be beyond cure. He distributed his robes and assets to perform various pure deeds; sitting upright, he visualized the Buddha and submitted a posthumous memorial requesting to donate his body. An imperial edict specially granted permission. Shortly thereafter, he passed away at Shengguang Monastery at the age of sixty-nine. The Eastern Palace issued an order providing twenty men to carry the corpse in seated posture and escort it to the mountain site. After the jhānita was concluded, Śramaṇa Xuanmo collected his remaining bones and erected a stupa for him at Shengguang Monastery, to the east of Master Cheng's stupa, on the sixth day of the fourth month in the seventh year of the Zhenguan era. Those of understanding all lamented the halting of the wheel of the Dharma. Through four years of translation, three sets of cases yielded their merit; yet the light of wisdom was obscured when looking to illuminate the defilements of delusion. That his propagation of the Dao was cut short like this is something one can hardly bear to hear. Now that the man has passed and the Dharma has crumbled, his return to the long night has come to this. This was the fault of our eastern land, not the blame of the western sage. How sorrowful!
3.7
Śramaṇa Huize, whose lay surname was Li, was a native of Jiangling in Jingzhou. Early on, he awakened to what was beyond the ordinary; his mental acumen was sharp and transcendent. At nine years of age, he went to Dharma Master Yin of his home prefecture to leave the household. Yin recognized that his pure spirit was exceptional and immediately ordained him as a novice (śrāmaṇera). In the intervals between lectures, he instructed him in abstruse secrets. Huize comprehended the profound principles without ever having to think twice; holding a scroll to recite the text, he could master more than forty sheets. The distinguished figures of Chu revered and praised him. At first, he listened to Yin lecture on the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra and the Lotus Sūtra, and later separately studied the Three Treatises. In all of them, he offered novel analyses and matched or surpassed the essential points. In the middle of the Kaihuang reign, Jiangling Monastery broadly established a Dharma gathering, and many masters gathered like clouds. Since Huize had established admirable achievements from an early age, monastics and laypeople alike wished to see his caliber and together invited him to be the Dharma master of the seat. Reflecting that expounding the teachings had its purpose, he stepped onto the platform. When he had just reached the age of twelve, he first opened lectures on the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra. Fitting instances and producing phrases, his meanings surpassed those of seasoned ministers. Questions and refutations followed one after another, yet his eloquent replies were lucid and cool. Young and old alike were struck to the heart, and praise filled the roads. Yuan Shou, the Duke of Yilong and Prefect of Jingzhou, heard of his youthful renown and, deeply astonished, drove in person to visit him. Finding him far surpassing prior reports, he greatly lauded him and memorialized the court, saying that he was an extraordinary talent rare in the world. An edict was immediately issued ordering his home prefecture to prepare ceremonial courtesies and respectfully escort him everywhere. After arriving in the capital, he was granted exceptional solace and audience, and was bestowed a saṅghāṭī and a full set of robes, with orders to reside at Qingchan Monastery. Leisurely dwelling among Dharma companions, he took deep pleasure in both the abstruse [Buddhist] and Confucian teachings. His literary talents were frequently displayed, and he guided others inexhaustibly. All the robe-and-cap gentry came to call at his gate, and none failed to praise his extensive learning, broad penetration, and swift responsiveness. Later, growing weary of worldly encumbrances and wishing to purify his spirit, he followed Dhyāna Master Ying to receive instruction in the mind teaching. Closing his gate for two years, his sentiments were cleansed of all worldly doors. He thus spoke or remained silent amidst the worthy and the holy, and expounded the interwoven principles of the scriptures. Encountering the collapse of the Sui house, Buddhist activities went into decline. Since the path was disrupted in that era, his heart delighted in secluded repose. In the final years of Daye, he moved and settled on Gaoguan Peak in the Zhongnan Mountains, building a hermitage against the cliff, his inner spirit and outer form becoming sparse and plain. When the Tang destiny arose vigorously and the living beings were delivered, Huize, unattached to self or other, came to the imperial city. As he briefly raised the voice of lecturing and instruction, the entire capital sought the Way from him. During the Wude era, the assembly of monks grew dense like clouds. He repeatedly set up Dharma platforms, in each displaying his magnificent bearing. At that time, Yanxing Monastery held a lecture on the Humane Kings Sūtra with a hundred seats, and princes, dukes, and high officials assembled in great numbers. Śramaṇa Jizang established the thesis of the treatise; his eloquent speech descended like heaven, drawing the gaze of noble and base alike. When Huize merely delivered a sharp critique, his words were pure, his principles thoroughly reached, his thought stirred subtle depths, and his bearing was so startling that the fourfold assembly was struck with awe and the hundred officials held their breath. Jizang turned back and sighed, saying, 'Not only is his debate difficult to follow, but also his silver-hook calligraphy is rare to encounter.' When the present Emperor was still a prince, he observed the arena of debate in person; he formed a deep bond with Huize, intending to take him as teacher and friend. Messengers were dispatched six times to summon him to the private residence, but Huize, believing that the entanglement of fame bringing death to the body had afflicted men from ancient times, modestly declined with various words and completely disregarded the summons. When the translation bureau opened in the Zhenguan era, an imperial decree selected renowned monks. Because he was noted for his literary brush and also thoroughly grasped the import of treatises, he was appointed as the text polisher for the translation of treatises. When the translation was complete and memorialized, an imperial edict bestowed a hundred bolts of silk and a suit of robes. Huize also composed a preface to the treatise, which states: 'As for the Prajñāpradīpamūlamadhyamakavṛtti, another name is the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā. The original has five hundred verses. It borrows the name "lamp" because non-conceptual wisdom possesses the efficacy of tranquil illumination. It raises "middle" to mark its title because the contemplation that extinguishes conditions equally departs from the two extremes. Yet the lamp is originally mind-free wisdom: by extinguishing illumination, the dharmatā is equal—the meaning of "middle" lies herein. Therefore, it is lodged in the treatise to elucidate it. As for those who seek the treatise but get stuck in its import, cling to the conventional and are deluded by the ultimate, fall upside-down between annihilation and permanence, and precipitously remain within existence and non-existence, clutching names and losing reality, clinging to leaves and forgetting roots—how could they intend to do so? There are indeed reasons for it. Let me try to state them. If one constructs causes of conceptual differentiation, one invites false fruits. Afflictive taints perfuse the inner consciousness, and evil friends knit outer conditions. This causes pride to soar like a towering mountain, views to deepen like the vast ocean, the fire of anger to be untouchable, and the blade of words to be seldom rivaled. Hearing existence spoken of, the heart is delighted; listening to emptiness discussed, slander arises. Six kinds of partial attachments each claim not to be partial; five hundred treatise masters contentious display divergent treatises. Some take the heterodox to confuse the orthodox; some take the counterfeit to equal the genuine. Consciousness seems to awaken yet turns around into confusion; although the teachings are accessible, they become all the more obstructed. This may be called discarding pearls to play with stones, abandoning treasures to carry firewood, being terrified of dragons upon seeing a painting, or fearing an elephant upon tracking its footprints. To be fond of such things is truly lamentable! Bodhisattva Nāgārjuna was exceptionally born to save the world. Rebuking lustful desires, he generated the aspiration; reading deep sūtras, he humbled himself. Receiving the remote prophecy of the Uniquely Honored One, he lit the Dharma torch in Jambudvīpa. Moreover, his stage surpassed the first reliance, and his merits transcended the subdued states. Having exhausted the one truth, he also completely grasped the two abilities. Bearing two seals, he settled the hundred schools; blending the three emptinesses, he leveled all things. Over dust-mote kalpas, he passed through and tested all hardships. Grieving for those deluded multitudes, he therefore composed this treatise. Its words are profound and its import is subtle; its refutations are clever and its expositions skillful. When applied to those of dull faculties, it causes many to retreat in fear. There is Bodhisattva Bhāviveka, a great general of the Mahāyāna Dharma, who embodies the Way within his heart. Gazing afar upon the true words, he made an explanatory commentary for it, opening the secret store and granting the wish-fulfilling jewel. The concise and the extensive complete one another, master and disciple mutually revealing. As for the divergent attachments of their own vehicle, they arose in a thousand forms; the diverse schemes of non-Buddhists were scattered in ten thousand threads. Donkeys competed to gallop against teams of four horses; fireflies vied in brightness against dragon torches. In all cases, their varieties were marked and their school founders exposed. Once jade and stone were separated, the dark and yellow were also distinguished. In the Western Regions, several houses applied their brushes; examining reality and analyzing subtleties, this one attained the ultimate refinement. If it comprehensively includes the root and branches, there are six thousand verses. The Indic text is like this; in translation, it was reduced. Our Emperor’s divine Way surpasses Fu Xi, and his molding of things equals nature itself. He esteems the root and stills the branches, achieving non-action and supreme peace; guarding the mother and preserving the child, he governs without speech. Considering that the holy teaching has flowed east for hundreds of years, yet among those carried by myriad elephants, many were still lacking; having rarely seen or heard them, he labored over them waking and sleeping. The Tripiṭaka Master of Central India, Prabhākaramitra, had learning encompassing both the partial and the complete, and broadly integrated all expositions. Losing the self, he gladdened his spirit; probing the abstruse, he nourished his nature. Wandering through lands was in his thoughts; benefiting creatures was in his heart. Thus, he was able to attach to the stakes to preserve his body and raise smoke to summon companions. Braving ice and frost, he crossed the Pamir Mountains; defying wind and heat, he crossed the River of Sand. Over five years, the road spanned forty thousand [li]. In the first year of Zhenguan of the Great Tang, carrying the Indic manuscripts on his head, he arrived at the capital. Formerly, Qin summoned Kumārajīva with bitter use of military troops; Han invited Dharmaratna, laboring barbarian envoys from afar. How could they compare to this resonance, where the Way tallies with the unseen? Auspicious omens of family and state brought the descent of a virtuous man. When the authorities memorialized his arrival, it exceptionally delighted the imperial mind. He was decreed to reside at Xingshan and Shengguang, which marked the beginning of translating new scriptures. The Emperor also summoned monks of doctrinal learning as well as princes, dukes, and chief ministers to translate this treatise together, investigating its profound import, discarding superficialities to preserve the real. Seeing it with their own eyes, they rejoiced in its accord with principle; holding their walking sticks, they investigated its truth and falsehood. Although the text was established, it was re-examined; after the meaning was clarified, it was scrutinized again. When the year was in the Star of Longevity, the collating was finished. As for this treatise: contemplation clarifies the Middle Way, but if one preserves the middle, one loses the contemplation; emptiness reveals the foremost, but if one grasps the one, one violates emptiness. Now, the south-pointing chariot was originally to show those who are lost; the gall-illuminating mirror was to inspect the wicked. Without wickedness, the mirror has no use; without being lost, the chariot is of no service. The refutation and exposition of this treatise are just like this! Although it rejects the internal and blocks the external, exhausts the false and explores the true, it preserves the wondrous existence and refutes what can be refuted. How vast! How immense! Facing it, one cannot measure its source; following it, one cannot know its end. Truly, it is a whetstone that polishes the mind and spirit, a boat and chariot that crosses the ocean of darkness, thunder that startles the dim consciousness, and the sun and moon that illuminate the dark path! In this land, there were previously four fascicles of the Madhyamakaśāstra; the basic verses are largely the same. Piṅgala made a commentary on it, which obscured its sectarian views, leaving scholars benighted. Now that this treatise has arisen, it may serve as a guide. May clear and penetrating gentlemen examine and savor it.' When the preface was completed, it was not immediately reported to the Emperor. The Emperor decreed that the Director of the Palace Library, Yu Shinan, write a preface. Seeing Huize's work, he praised it with gasps, finding nothing that could surpass it. He therefore memorialized it to the Emperor, and it was placed at the head of the roll, everywhere transcribed and enclosed within the scriptural canon. On the sixth day of the fourth month in the tenth year of Zhenguan, he passed away at his dwelling at the age of fifty-seven. He was buried to the east of the capital outskirts. A path was arranged and a stele erected to praise his fragrant virtue; the Erudite of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, Chu Liang, composed the text. Ever since Huize came to know the Way, his peers revered his sharpness in debate. Contemporaries compared him to Huicheng, which was indeed a sound judgment. His flow of words was difficult to exhaust; in whatever he applied himself, he never failed. He lectured on the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, Pañcaviṃśatisāhasrikā Prajñāpāramitā, Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa, Mahāyānasaṃgraha, and the Madhyamaka and Śata treatises; in all, his unraveling of chapters and resolving of obscurities were renowned. He also recited the Mahāparinirvāṇa and Lotus Sūtras; his pronunciation and prose were pure and beautiful, and whenever he recited for the assembly, his clear trill moved the spirit. Furthermore, he reduced his personal utensils to transcribe the scriptural canon; no sooner had he finished examining them than he practiced reverent worship. He was also skilled at guiding the assembly and putting people's feelings at ease, and was praised and recounted by literary masters. He especially understood ancient traces and was exceptionally versed in calligraphy and paintings. When scholars of the capital repeatedly presented genuine and forged works, they all relied on his spoken verdict to determine their period. In literary composition and stylistic form, he quite belonged to the ranks of the talented. In cursive and clerical script, his brush skill was renowned in the ministries and bureaus. Whenever there was an official gathering of distinguished assemblies, he was certainly summoned to sit among them. High officials would hold paper, asking for his calligraphy and rushing to present it; Huize applied his brush according to the paper, soaring swiftly like the wind. His rich and grand style was the finest of his age. Therefore, his works were circulating, recited, and cherished in vast numbers, hung upon screens or inscribed beside seats. He composed a collection in eight fascicles, which circulates in the world.
3.8.1
Śramaṇa Huijing, whose secular surname was Fang, was a native of Zhending in Changshan. His family had for generations been Confucian masters, celebrated with praise in their home commandery. Jing was the nephew of Huiyuan, who was Erudite of the National University during the Sui dynasty. Born with innate knowledge and naturally gifted, he had an elegant penchant for literature. His manner and bearing were lofty and steep, his capacity and temperament profound and distant. In his youth, he early studied the ancient classics; he soon understood literature and hymns, excelling as the crowning glory of his neighborhood. At fourteen he entered the monastic life, his aspirations vast and far-reaching. Daily he recited more than eight thousand words; in retaining the text and its meaning, few were his match. He visited lecture halls to inquire into major perplexities, probing the obscure and subtle, invariably reaching the profoundest depths. Hearing the Mahāprajñāpāramitōpadeśa and other scriptural divisions, his singular talent stood out, surprising all who saw and heard him. At that time, Master of Treatises Zhinian was famed throughout the Eastern Realm, reputed in his day to have plumbed the depths of the Hīnayāna cave. Jing then followed him to study the Samyuktābhidharmahṛdaya and the Mahāvibhāṣā; completing two full cycles of study, he thoroughly mastered the essential principles. Searching from roots to leaves, he made it his business to encompass their purest import. Because of this, his fine reputation spread far and wide, and students looked up to him with admiration. At the end of the Kaihuang reign, he arrived in the imperial capital; repeatedly breaking through difficult barriers, his fame spread even further. In the early years of Daye, following ancient traces, he reached Huaili. It happened that Yang Hong, the Magistrate of Shiping, assembled the religious and lay communities at Zhizang Monastery, wishing to have a Daoist initiate first open the Daoist scriptures. At that time, though the Buddhist assembly was populous, none dared to oppose him. Jing, hearing of this, said: 'The Magistrate has grandly brought together the four assemblies to weigh the two teachings. In secret I have something not yet understood, and beg to ask about my doubts. How so? The etiquette of host and guest naturally has its regular order; it is like cap and shoes, which must not be inverted. How can one, in a Buddhist monastery, let a Daoist initiate first act as host? May the Magistrate maintain order in doctrinal propriety, and please not allow the standard to fall.' The Magistrate said: 'There is indeed principle in this! I was almost misled by those after,' and thereupon ordered the monks to occupy the leading seats, so that they were not humiliated. There was a Daoist initiate named Yu Yongtong who had considerable contemporary acclaim and was held in high regard by the Magistrate. He next set forth a proposition, saying: 'There is a thing confusedly formed, born before Heaven and Earth. I do not know its name; I style it the Dao.' The Magistrate immediately ordered a debate, further saying: 'The Dharma Master must match words and principles strictly, and must not violate the faults of "flat head" or "raised tail".' At that time, the Magistrate wore a flat cap. Jing consequently joked: 'Since this poor monk wears no cap, how could I violate "flat head"?' The Magistrate said: 'If you do not violate flat head, you must violate "raised tail".' Jing replied: 'This poor monk takes off his shoes and ascends the couch; naturally, rising above, there is no tail. The Magistrate unties his kerchief and puts on a flat cap; one could say it is flat without a head.' The Magistrate looked abashed. Jing then asked Tong: '"There is a thing confusedly formed"—is it confused because its substance is one, or is it confused because its substance is different? If it is confused because its substance is one, then at the very moment it is confused it has already formed unity; thus unity is not born of the Dao. If it is confused because its substance is different, then before it was confused it had already formed duality; thus duality is not born of the one. Sir, as you crown the rest in the ranks of the Dao, please resolve this doubt.' Thereupon Tong was utterly bewildered, ashamed and without reply. Jing said: 'Sir, since you were able to open the pass and invite the enemy, you should right now muster your remaining courage. How can it be that, beginning like peaches and plums, it turns into brambles and thorns?' He then looked back at the Magistrate and said: 'Since the Magistrate was aiding the Dao, how will you rescue him?' The Magistrate then looked mortified. Thereafter, whenever rescues were repeatedly attempted, they were all felled according to the occasion, without exception overturning their chariots. From then on, Jing took dual pleasure in both the Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna, his appreciation growing ever deeper. Outside of his commentaries and writings, he had no leisure from tracing and unraveling doctrines. Sweeping clean a quiet room, he summarized the old traditions and compiled an exposition of the Samyuktābhidharmahṛdaya in thirty fascicles, which embraced the various scriptures and encompassed ancient and modern times; the eminent masters from all directions all drew upon its profound subtleties. Later, considering that the translation of the Abhidharmakośa had rich phrasing and import, yet though an established text existed its study had not been exhausted, he attained insight on his own without a teacher, discerning terms and principles, and composed a commentary in over thirty fascicles for it. Thus he caused the marvelous doctrines of the Sautrāntika school to be linked anew in this enlightened age, and the orthodox lineage of Kaśmīra to transmit its fragrance into subsequent generations. The scholar Yu Chusun of Yingchuan requested a commentary on the Vajracchedikā-prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, whereupon Jing explained the text and raised its principles, flourishing into a magnificent work that exhausted the doctrinal source of the ultimate and conventional truths, and fully expounded the esoteric essentials of the Mahāyāna. Spread near and far, it was copied, recited, and upheld; across literary circles it was transmitted by heart and mouth, its renown and merit celebrated together, constantly heard shoulder to shoulder. Chu Liang, Erudite of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, whose elegant talent was clear and outstanding and whose fame had long been heard, admired this fragrant model and wrote a preface for it, which read: 'Now, the Great Clod shapes bodies equally, while wisdom is enslaved by external things. Feelings change because of habit; nature shifts along with thoughts. Yet penetrating discernment and comprehensive vision shine brightly in the early-awakened: blazing the torch of wisdom to emerge from thick darkness, pulling people from the river of craving to ascend to the other shore. Compared with revolving through myriad kalpas, covered and stained by the six dusts, wandering off to follow the boundless, and stumbling while rushing along shortcuts, they cannot be spoken of in the same day. Yu Chusun of Yingchuan early promoted sincere faith, believing that what the Prajñā illuminates ultimately returns to the correct Path, revealing the characteristics of the Mahāyāna, marking the ultimate principle of non-abiding, emerging beyond thoughts and deliberations, and transcending words and images. For this reason, since tying up his hair in youth he has accepted and upheld it for many years; although the wondrous voice expounds it and his recitation is complete and unfailing, in its deep and clear spiritual source there were still things not understood. Sighing that the strayed path was not far, he gazed upon the smooth road and sighed deeply. It happened that there was Dharma Master Huijing, who comprehensively understood the profound principles, his eloquence like a grease-pot on an axle, his reasoning exhausting the interlocked rings. Master Yu entered his chamber to study the subtleties and submitted with reverence to his skillful guidance; taking advantage of this vow, he then requested a commentary. The Dharma Master, holding up a mirror, forgot fatigue, like a crossroad flagon naturally filled. Above, relying on the path of spiritual resonance; to the side, exhausting the functions of mental ingenuity—he unfolded the subtle words and proclaimed the ultimate principles. Former doubts melted away like thawing ice; today's marvelous principles shone bright as parting clouds. Becoming the ridgepole of the Semblance Dharma, transforming the ears and eyes of all living beings, the peak of his words rose loftily, rivaling Mount Gṛdhrakūṭa in height; the spring of his speech gushed powerfully, racing far toward the Dragon Palace. Furthermore, the Buddhist teaching arose in the west, and the source of the Way flowed east. Across generations traversing the worthy and wise whose talents were both superior and abundant, those who exhaustively grasped the sagely import were rarely seen. Now, this śramaṇa has proclaimed it anew, renowned in his contemporary age; I imagine that in this profound tradition, he stands vigorously as the foremost. In the year of Yanmao, he first took up ink; when the moon reached Zhonglü, he laid down his brush. Clergy and laity looked up to him, their carriages forming shade. Striking the bell according to its size, brandishing the sword to reveal its brilliance. Contemporaneous fellows of study specialized under his school to receive instruction, wading together through the waves and transmitting it one to another. Soon he looked down upon Huiyuan of Mount Lu and surveyed Dao'an from above, walking alone along the high avenue to uphold the true Dharma. Truly an authentic text from Liaodong.'
3.8.2
Looking at the hung gold that cannot be altered, it serves as a guiding compass; holding the clustered jades that never decay, how splendid is this! How splendid is this! In the first year of the Wude era, the officials and subordinates of the three princely headquarters gathered at Yanxing Temple. The eminent bhadantas of the capital competed in presenting doctrinal expositions. There was the dharmabhāṇaka of Qingchan Temple, who established the thesis of 'refuting emptiness'. With fierce voice and impassioned countenance, his vigor surpassed his contemporaries. Wang Jingye, the Administrator of the Prince's Headquarters, memorialized above, saying: 'The sharpness of the dharmabhāṇaka who ascended the seat is difficult to counter; none other than Huijing of Jiguo Temple can blunt his edge.' An order was immediately given for them to debate. Jing said: 'Now standing beside heroes and mingled among dragons and elephants, it is difficult to engage in lofty discourse in countering the Venerable One. Even so, I venture to rely upon the power that gathers the autumn frost and disperses the bounty of spring rain, allowing Huijing to inquire into slight doubts and permitting the dharmabhāṇaka to extol great wisdom. How could this not be the splendor of the Buddha-Dharma?' He then asked: 'It is not yet clear: in
3.8.3
Whom does this speak of? Dharma Master Huijing was that very man. The Dharma Master was endowed with pure and harmonious vital energy, a refinement sent down by the rivers and peaks. His spiritual understanding merged within, while his mental subtleties shone outward. In his tender youth he faced the sun; in his childhood years he investigated the arcane. His roots rose aloft, branching dense and luxuriant; to brush the clouds, his ladder was made of ordinary rungs. Great billows stretched boundlessly vast; to bathe the sun, his path began from the dimming springs. Moreover, his torch of wisdom shone early on, and his boughs of dhyāna flourished betimes. Overlooking the flowing river, he was touched with anxious thoughts; gazing at the waters of absorption, he gladdened his spirit. Lamenting those who toil in worldly life, he awakened to this eternal bliss. The profound purports of the Three Vehicles melted brilliantly away like ice; the Dharma gates of the two truths were harmoniously and smoothly aligned with principle. Soon thereafter, he set forth on his journey from the eastern land and leaned on his monk's staff in western Qin. Arriving at lecture halls and Dharma assemblies, upon hearing of his fine reputation, people flocked thither like echoes. Resolving doubts and analyzing difficulties, they submitted to his lofty principles and followed him like shadows. The bright mirror reflected repeatedly without tiring; the great bell awaited striking and thereupon resonated. Exhausting their capacities and filling their measures, they went empty and returned full. Truly he was a pillar of the Buddha's Dharma, verily the leader of the monastic assembly. Formerly, when I travelled to the imperial capital, I was able to express my admiration. In that quiet, pure realm, parting the clouds one saw the radiant light; in that secluded, tranquil dwelling, entering the chamber white radiance naturally arose. The Dharma Master guided me with the limit of reality (bhūtakoṭi) and drew me in with suchness (tathatā). Scooping the ocean, one knew not its shallows or depths; looking up at the scholarly mountain, one merely gazed in awe at its lofty peak. Once, during the Dharma Master's leisure from expounding the scriptures, we deliberated upon the forest of letters. Such as the compositions on garden willows and celestial elms, or the chants of storied pavilions and patterned lattice windows; the King of Wei's 'Northern Mountain' and Chen Si's 'Southern State'; Sizong's rhapsody on the bright moon, and Pengze's depiction of the gentle rain; down to Yan and Xie blossoming with ornate verse, and Ren and Shen displaying vigorous style—these were fully capable of harmonizing with the eight tones and conforming in expression to the four beginnings. Each in turn inherited and transmitted them, magnificently serving as turtles and mirrors. How could they only bring glory to past ages without successors to follow in their footsteps? In recent times, men of letters have appeared with exceptional talents from time to time. Emperor Wu of the Northern Zhou exerted his heroic ambitions, leveling the Zhang and Fu rivers; Emperor Gaozu of the Sui concealed his brilliant stratagems, pacifying the Jiang and Huai rivers. Standardizing scripts and tracks, they opened wide the schools. Wen and Xing enjoyed high renown in the eastern land; Xu and Yu were prized dearly in southern Jing. Minister of Works Wang was uniquely eminent in his day; Gentleman Shen stood out as an extraordinary figure across generations. How could any of these illustrious talents be lacking? Ever since the foundation was laid in the realm of Can, the brilliant light has shone twice over; greatly promoting cultural virtue, their path surpasses that of former kings. Gentlemen living in seclusion were moved by the zeitgeist; guests from forests and ravines gathered like clouds. Thus they were able to outshine Han Che and give birth to Cao Pi; elegant literature flourished luxuriantly, reaching its zenith at this time. Though I am not clever, I secretly harbored this intention. Soon afterward, the boat moved unseen in the night valley; mourning that hills and valleys shift and trade places, and seeing that the sun and moon easily pass into evening, I grieved that human life is hard to make constant. Therefore, I earnestly requested the Dharma Master to temporarily turn his clear discernment toward collecting poetic pieces and weeding out superfluous growth. For a gentleman is not always aloof and solemn; editing the poems would not be a blemish. Continuing after the 'Poetic Garden' compiled by Chamberlain for Law Enforcement Liu, he edited and supplemented it. Yu Chusun of Yingchuan possessed scholarship encompassing the ancient classics, and his conduct rivaled that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian. Wei Shanfu of Jingzhao was upright and possessed rare integrity; widely read, he synthesized the various schools of thought. Interacting with the Dharma Master, their affection surpassed that of glue and lacquer. Witnessing this splendid undertaking, they all joined in praising and assisting it. Yet life has a limit; Lord Yu passed away forever. Grieving incessantly over this transformation into death, tears unwittingly soaked my lapel. Recently, observing his surviving writings, they have long become old relics; now they are also arranged on the soiled bamboo slips to be handed down to posterity. The Dharma Master, formally following the ancient statutes, compiled this magnificent achievement. Taking advantage of my leisure days, I respectfully recount his fragrant virtues, so that the songs of Ying and airs of Chu may resonate together with strings and pipes, and spring blossoms and autumn fruits may endure as long as heaven and earth. Thereupon, the seven nobles bowed to his fine principles, and the fivefold assembly rejoiced in his wise understanding. Anyone counted among the capable kept a copy in their household. From that time forth, whenever the state held a grand gathering, he was always among the foremost. Whenever he entered the royal palaces, he frequently ascended to the highest seat. Held in regard in the emperor's heart, he was respected by all officials. The Crown Prince had long admired his pure virtue, and so in the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, he assembled the various officials and scholars of the three teachings at the Hongwen Hall, inviting Huijing to expound the Lotus Sūtra. The Daoist Cai Huang was fond of setting himself apart when expounding Daoist treatises; Xuanzong issued an order dispatching him to debate Huijing. Huang then composed his countenance and asked: 'The sūtra says: "Introduction, Chapter One." I do not know which division "Introductory" refers to.' Huijing said: 'The Tathāgata entered samādhi, manifested auspicious omens, emitted light, displayed wonders, shook the earth, and rained down flowers. Using the distant to reveal the near, this served as the grand foundation for breaking the two [vehicles] and formed the gradual course for illuminating the one [vehicle]; therefore it is called the Introduction. "Order" (di) means position; "One" (yi) means the beginning. The Introduction occupies the very foremost place; hence it is called Chapter One.' Huang said: '"Order" (di) means a younger brother (di). If it is an order, it cannot be called "one"; if one speaks of "one", it cannot be called an "order". The two words contradict each other—how can they be reconciled?' Huijing said: 'Did I not just say that "order" means position, and "one" means beginning? Since you did not comprehend the previous thesis and erroneously raised a subsequent objection, this is objecting against yourself—how can it count as objecting against another?' Huang said: 'If you say I did not comprehend it, please explain it again.' Huijing addressed the Crown Prince: 'In the past there were two persons: one was named Snake Slave, who spoke of the broom but forgot how to sweep; the other was named Śāriputra, who, upon hearing once, understood a thousand things. Thus Snake Slave did not awaken even after hearing twice, whereas Śāriputra comprehended as soon as it was uttered once. This was not because the transmission of the teaching was unclear, but merely because the recipient of the Dharma was not sharp.' Huang said: 'The Dharma Master's words did not leave his lips; what was there to comprehend?' Huijing said: 'When the Bodhisattva preaches the Dharma, his voice shakes the ten directions. The Daoist sits in his seat as though bewildered and drunk. How could it be that merely his physical body is deaf and blind? His intellect must also be likewise.' Huang said: 'When a jackal preaches the Dharma, how could it ever be heard?' Huijing said: 'The heavenly palace is strictly guarded, where tracks of beasts are utterly cut off by principle. The Daoist's spirit is so bewildered that he takes a human to be a beast.' At that time, the Chancellor of the Directorate of Education Kong Yingda, harboring bias toward the Daoist faction, covertly fanned the flames with buzzing words like a bluebottle fly, saying: 'The Buddhist house is free of dispute; why does the Dharma Master fabricate this?' Huijing addressed the Crown Prince: 'Even when the Tathāgata was in the world, there were already such matters. When the Buddha refuted non-Buddhists, the non-Buddhists could not answer and instead said to the Buddha: "You always say of yourself that you are impartial. Now that you have refuted me with objections, that is partiality—how can you call it impartiality?" The Buddha answered them: "Using my partiality, I refute your partiality. If you attain impartiality, that is my impartiality." Now it is also like this: using Huijing's dispute, I refute his dispute. When he attains non-dispute, that is Huijing's non-dispute.' Thereupon the Crown Prince said to the Chancellor: 'Since you plagiarize words, you truly belong to the Daoist faction.' Huijing addressed the Crown Prince: 'Huijing has always heard that a gentleman does not form factions in his wisdom; does the Chancellor also form a faction?' The Crown Prince smiled broadly and laughed, and the entire assembly rejoiced.
3.8.4
The decree stated: 'Not only has the joy of the Dharma reached this point, but in this way Huijing's pivotal faculty [of eloquence] has awakened the three teachings to enlightenment.' He frequently entered the imperial palace to debate against the Daoists; as soon as he waved the fly-whisk of discourse, the entire audience was struck with awe and dread. Cai Huang and the others, who were the leading champions of the Daoist fold, repeatedly met with defeat, until their resolve and reputation were completely crushed. The Crown Prince, seeing that Huijing's keen spirit was insurmountable, requested that he assume office at Puguang Temple. He issued an edict saying: 'The elder of Jiguo Temple, Master of the Dharma Huijing, is renowned far and wide, and his religious practice is celebrated. In regulating the monastery, he will certainly bring great benefit. We request that he manage the affairs of the temple.' Huijing took propagation as his sole vocation and delighted in quietude. Although bestowed with this honorable appointment, his heart was not at ease; thus he firmly declined in detail, but permission was not granted. Hard-pressed by this imperial favor, he submitted a memorial of gratitude, saying: 'I humbly received the gracious order appointing Huijing abbot of Puguang Temple while remaining in charge of the elder's affairs at my home temple. Receiving the decree, I am alarmed and flustered, not knowing what to do. But Huijing has never measured his own mediocrity and shortcomings; from my youth I specialized in the sūtras and treatises, and by overtaxing my mind, I contracted a chronic ailment. Now that my years advance like an aging dog or horse, my decline worsens by the day. Depending on nourishment to preserve my life, I only occasionally expound the teachings. Polishing the dull and spurring the lame, I have received undeserved praise. As for holding the reins and maintaining order, I have never understood it; regulating the assembly of monks is something I have never been adept at. Your grace sends this mediocre and decrepit person to drag along and supervise those weighty affairs. Privately, I lament that if fish and deer exchange places, they lose the suitability of dryness and wetness; if square and round alter their substance, they go against the nature of things. Since my capacity falls short, the burden truly weighs upon my heart. Examining myself with fear and trembling, I have no time to rest. Yet Your Highness's gracious decree is so profound and generous that I dare not refuse. I respectfully express my gratitude, prostrating myself with increased trepidation.' The Crown Prince replied: 'Suddenly receiving your letter, I am deeply moved and comforted. Having read it over thrice, I feel delighted. I have heard that although the Tathāgata's traces arose in the human realm, his Dao encompassed the heavens beyond; his spiritual efficacy and marvelous power are inconceivable. In tranquil non-action, the path of words is cut off; in limpid, eternal abiding, the sphere of mental activity is extinguished. Yet, because sentient beings, submerged by defilements, drown in the river of craving, he could not but greatly rescue the overflowing currents to bring them to the other shore. Entering and leaving the three realms, ascending and descending through the six heavens, and actively operating across the ten directions was truly for this reason. As for the blessed land of the Deer Park and the spiritual mountain of Vulture Peak, he sprinkled sweet dew over the groves of dhyāna and turned the wheel of the Dharma in the pure realm, entrusting it to the bodhisattvas to deliver the common people; thereafter, he emitted light from his face and extinguished his shadow between the twin trees. Although the jewel-ship has sunk, the bequeathed teachings still survive, which is nothing other than the Tathāgata's Dharmakāya. However, it is humans who can broaden the Dao, not the Dao that broadens humans. Long ago there were Maitreya and Mañjuśrī, who personally received the spoken intentions; recently there were Fotudeng and Kumārajīva, who illuminated the scriptural teachings. That a worthy appears once in five hundred years is truly not spoken in vain; that one meets [such a master] once in a thousand leagues is scarcely an empty word. Formerly, while in the secular world, the Dharma Master came from an illustrious family; your flying tassels graced the Eastern Academy, and your jade ornaments sounded in the Imperial Academy. Thus you were able to bestow abundance upon your descendants and hand down fragrance to your nephews. Yet taking the three hundred poems of the Classic of Poetry, they do not transcend suffering and emptiness; the three thousand rules of the Minor Rituals cannot escape arising and ceasing. Therefore, you gave rise to great vows, dedicated yourself to bodhi, shaved off your youthful locks, and donned the three robes. As for the verses of the Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna, the texts of extensive and concise expositions, the Sarvāstivāda-vinaya, the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya, the eight sections of the Prajñāpāramitā, the treatises of Vasubandhu and Asaṅga, and the discourses on the sentences and meanings of the Dharma doors—all these you have dissected in your breast, stirring up the clear and dispelling the turbid. When gracing the teaching seat and opening the Dharma assembly, your explanation of meanings is inspired, and all types of audiences understand simultaneously; pouring forth eloquence like a hanging torrent, you mobilize words like linked rings. The Jade Chicken was praised by Han officials, and the White Horse was lauded by the proud clerk. Comparing the present with the past, who were they to you? Therefore, we deferentially request the Dharma Master to serve as abbot of Puguang Temple and concurrently oversee the elder's affairs at Jiguo Temple. Furthermore, I have heard that if the intention to cultivate virtue for oneself alone is limited, then the principle of saving beings cannot be vast; if the notion of other and self is not forgotten, then feelings toward others and oneself cannot be open. Moreover, Puguang and Jiguo are both places of enlightenment (bodhimaṇḍas); what difference is there between an old dwelling and a new residence? The Dharma Master's letter says that if fish and deer exchange places, they lose the suitability of dryness and wetness; this was intended as modest speech, feigning precious oddity. Formerly we heard that Elder Jalavāhana was able to rescue ten thousand fish, and how could a huntsman in the wilderness harm a deer that took the three refuges? If only fish-traps and rabbit-snares are left unused, words and images will naturally be forgotten.' Huijing again replied in gratitude: 'Having once more received your gracious decree, the imperial favor is doubly profound, and my retrospective remorse and embarrassment deepen. Yet Huijing's scholarship is ashamed before the reflection of snow, and my understanding is embarrassed before the transmission of the lamp; having undeservedly received this honor, I have sat and obtained what exceeded my hopes. Moreover, you have deigned to bestow this divine calligraphy, disseminating this grand guidance. Its literary elegance matches the celestial luminaries, and its harmony accords with metals and stones. Furthermore, your kindness encompasses both the monastics and the laity, and your bounty extends to both the living and the dead; your encouragement to advance toward height and depth surpasses the mountains and the seas. Turning it over a hundred times, sorrow and joy alternate in my heart. I merely know to engrave it with gratitude, yet how could my meager words express it? With your frequent and kind condescension, I look upon myself with great shame. I respectfully report my gratitude, which only increases my trepidation.' Thereupon [the Crown Prince] again issued a decree to the assembly of Puguang Temple, saying: 'We have heard that the True Dharma vanished in the Western Regions, and the Semblance Teaching was spread to the Eastern Land. Past and present have succeeded one another over many years; yet Nanda, Kāśyapa, Aśvaghoṣa, and Nāgārjuna poured out [the Dharma] as from one vase to another, just like the passing of a lamp. Thus the marvelous import and subtle words have been handed down in writing to reveal the intention. Hence the thirty-two marks pervade humans and devas, and the twelve divisions of scriptures are expounded throughout the lands. Those who follow its road gallop high upon the four crossroads; those who lose its path transmigrate within the six destinies. As for the lair of principle, the gate of Dharma, the mysterious doctrine, and the secret treasury—unless one is of the utmost subtlety in the world, who could participate in this? The Emperor, using the divine way to establish teachings, brings benefit to all living beings. Therefore, he universally built benevolent shrines to carry on and elevate correct enlightenment; divining this supreme ground, he founded this monastery. He invited the famous monks of the Central Realm and summoned the leaders of the imperial city. Recluses of mountains and forests arrived on excursions holding their tin staffs; guests of the court lifted their robes and hastened to their seats. The doctrinal assemblies are grand, and the Dharma companions are numerous; this is truly a field of merit for the settlements and an abode of longevity for the common people. Furthermore, with clustered pillars and overlapping beams, jeweled pagodas and flower terraces, when the great bell is struck, it is not noisy; when pure Sanskrit chants are sung, it grows ever more tranquil. It is like Rocana Buddha sitting in the Dharma hall of Universal Light, where the spiritual marks are resplendent and the divine transformations echo. Comparing the present with the past, it coincides mysteriously; between the title and the vessel, how could an empty post be established? Yet the gathering of the monastic assembly must have regulations. Inquiring among the great assembly, we seldom encounter such a person. After days of searching and recommending, there was widespread agreement, all saying...'
First 11 of 16 passages. Read on
Linked texts (1)
- 續高僧傳 — 道宣, Classical Chinese