宋高僧傳 22
English (machine translation) 22
- Language
- English
22.1
Compiled by Imperial Order by the Purple-Robe-Bestowed Śramaṇa Zanning, Grand Master Tonghui of Tianshou Temple of the Left Street of the Song
22.2
Supernatural Resonance, Section 6, Part 5 (Thirteen primary biographies, five appended)
22.3
Biography of Rumin of Lingshu Cloister in Shaozhou, under the Later Tang
22.4
Śramaṇa Rumin was a native of Min. He first visited Chan Master [Da]'an, and subsequently carried out widespread conversion south of the Nanling Mountains, where he indeed displayed many wondrous traces. In character, he was magnanimous, pure, and sincere; without reason he spoke little, but deeply pitied the confused and foolish, consistently acting to stimulate and encourage them. When the Liu clan held regional dominance over Panyu, each time they invited Min to enter and consult him, he mostly foresaw their coming in advance, and his verification matched like the joining of tallies. The rulers of Guang[nan] across successive generations served him and associated with him; from time to time they paid him formal visits, and whenever they had doubts that could not be resolved, they went straight to consult him. Min also harboured no suspicion or jealousy; he gave spontaneous instructions in extemporaneous verse, and these were always accurate. At the time people called him "the One Who Grants Prayers," and privately titled him "Grand Master Knower of Sages." Initially, Min took an ascetic practitioner as his attendant, who thoroughly satisfied his expectations; Min called him "Suoyou" (the Source). One day, as [the attendant] followed him over a mountain ridge, Min waved him off and secretly ordered him down the mountain; turning to look back, [the attendant] saw Min entering the earth. The ascetic concealed his form in the grass, and after watching for a long time, Min emerged. The attendant went forward to greet him and asked, "Where did the Master go?" He said, "I have an old friendship with the mountain king, who invited me to have a chat." In this manner, whenever he occasionally vanished, he would emerge from a hole in the ground. He sternly admonished him: "Suoyou, you must not speak of this to outsiders and disclose my leisure affairs." Later, he passed away at his resident monastery, his entire body intact without decaying. His funeral stūpa was provided for by the authorities; today it is called the True Body Stūpa of Chan Master Lingshu—is that not so!
22.5
The appraisal says: If Lingshu encountered Da'an, his life and monastic age must have been extraordinarily long, exceeding ordinary human limits. I suspect this is also a case of differing traditions from what was heard.
22.6
Later Tang: A Biography of Quanzai of Mount Tiantai
22.7
Śramaṇa Quanzai, surnamed Shen, was a native of Qiantang. While still an infant in arms, he took no pleasure in meat or blood. His mother repeatedly observed auspicious signs and urged him to take refuge under Grand Master Faji of Mount Jing to shave his hair and dye his robes. When he cultivated dhyāna-contemplation, he stood lofty and prominent, unmixed with the worldly dust, and emulated the twelve dhūtas to embellish his conduct; the common folk referred to him as "Daoist Zai." When he went on pilgrimage to consult masters in various quarters, he received the seal of verification from Chan Master Shishuang, who secretly gave him protection and care; he then entered Anyan (the Dark Cliff) on Mount Tiantai to perpetuate his aspiration—this cliff stood facing the retreat of Hanshanzi, and was a place where mountain demons and tree monsters congregated. During Zai's dwelling there for more than twenty years, evil birds changed their calls, and mountain spirits ceded their caverns. When he went about in circumambulation, ghosts and spirits performed service for him, either sweeping his path, attending by his side, drawing spring water on his behalf, or gathering fruits to offer; people frequently saw this, but Zai never spoke of it. Later, in the fifth year of the Tiancheng era, his Chan companions from Mount Jing went to welcome him back to reside at the Zhengguo Monastery, where he passed away at the original monastery of his ordination.
22.8
Later Jin: A Biography of Huaijun of Badong
22.9
Śramaṇa Huaijun: it is not known where he was from. As a monk, he was naive and wild, yet he could foresee events before their omens appeared, and his fulfillments were like spirits. During the Qianning era, he arrived in Badong for no apparent reason. Jun was skilled in cursive script, his brushwork being natural; whether on the walls of Buddhist monasteries, Daoist cloisters, or shops, or writing Buddhist scriptures, Daoist rites, or even songs, poems, and vulgar ditties, there was nothing that did not collect at the tip of his brush. When someone spoke with him, he merely answered, "Yes, indeed." The villagers treated him as a divine sage. Regional Inspector Lord Yu was troubled by his misleading the masses, bound him in prison, and interrogated him; Jun thereupon submitted a statement in verse, the meaning pointing east and west of Minchuan, but the phrasing was so exquisite that the prefectural commander marvelled at it and released him. Furthermore, examining his intention, one suspected he belonged in the sea—could he not have been of the class of Beidu? Travelers passing through always moored their boats to pay him a visit—to determine the auspiciousness of journeying up or down the Gorges, or the profit and loss in trade and commercial pursuit of goods. When travelers earnestly prayed to him, he would only write three or five lines, never speaking clearly, yet the matters were verified with subtle precision. At that time, Zhou Chongbin, a grand officer of Jingnan, visited him; Jun wrote and handed to him: "Deliver to the imperial capital for investigation." Thereafter, when he entered to present tribute, owing to the imperial army's southern campaign, he was bound in the southern commandery and ultimately executed. Sun Daoneng, an administrative officer, visited him, and Jun wrote the words: "Deliver to Zhulin Temple." In that year Sun passed away and was buried on the grounds of the ancient Zhulin Temple. When Huangfu Xuan was prefectural governor, Jun drew a person bearing a cangue with a woman beside him. Soon after, Xuan took a daughter of a commoner family and suffered a lawsuit, being imprisoned and sent to the capital. There was one Mu Zhaosi—of Persian descent, who in his youth was fond of pharmacology—who accompanied his father to visit him; Jun drew a Daoist riding the clouds and carrying a gourd, and wrote, "Commanding Envoy Gao so-and-so appoints [him] as prefectural judge." Mu later achieved success through medical skill, and Gao Conghui, the King of Nanping, ordered him to leave Daoism to follow Confucianism, and conferred on him the concurrent post of prefectural judge. When the imperial army attacked Jingzhou, Jun composed a poem and presented it to the King of Nanping, saying: "The horse's head gradually enters the road to Yangzhou; / Relatives must wash their eyes to see." In that year the Gao clan pledged allegiance to the Huaihai region, and the heavy siege was lifted. His other wondrous traces were mostly of this kind. One day he wrote on a plantain leaf in the courtyard: "Today I repay my debt of karma; the prefecture and county need not investigate further." Passersby mostly saw it but paid it no heed. Suddenly he was harmed by someone, his head and body severed; the regional inspector performed his cremation.
22.10
Later Jin: A Biography of Xingzun of Guangguo Cloister in Langzhou
22.11
Śramaṇa Xingzun was the second son of the Wang family, the Princes of Min in Fuzhou. When Emperor Zhuangzong of the Later Tang ascended the throne, Xingzun entered Luoyang to present local products and consequently remained at the capital residence. At the end of the Tongguang era, when Emperor Mingzong was about to enter and military upheavals ensued continuously, he cut his hair, changed his garments to become a monk, and fled to Ba-Shu. By the Kaiyun era of the Later Jin, his appearance was like that of a man in his seventies, yet his physical strength had not waned. When someone asked about his age and monastic years, he would remain strictly silent. In Langzhong he lodged at the Guangguo Chan Cloister; the cloister's assembly maintained the monastery through vinaya rules, and no one knew whether Zun possessed ability or not. A son of the Li family invited him for a vegetarian meal; while eating and drinking, he suddenly rose, went out the door, and shouted loudly as if rebuking something. He said to Li, "Tonight there will be a fire, spreading from the southeast to the northwest street; let all neighbours prepare for it." That evening it indeed burned everything to ashes. The crowd gathered and asked the reason; he said, "Yesterday a woman wearing red and holding a torch passed by; this old monk only regrets not catching up with her." Furthermore, at the house of Legal Officer Zhao, he pointed beneath a peach tree and said, "There is this much coin." He did not specify the amount. Zhao then summoned people to dig it up; just as the baskets and spades were set in motion, a guest arrived, and the coins were snatched by the house servants. In the midst of the clamour, the coins all turned into blue mud; people each scrambled and got a hundred or so, and later plastered them on walls. When the gates and walls crumbled, they were frequently found there. When Zun passed by people's tombs, he knew the auspiciousness or misfortune of their families. Even regarding wind-reading and the calls of birds and beasts, from what he heard and saw he predicted disasters and blessings, which were invariably verified afterwards; thus near and far throughout the prefecture and villages, all took his prophecies as popular sayings. He passed away at Mount Yu in Jin'an, and the monastic assembly cremated him.
22.12
Later Jin: A Biography of the Nameless Monk of Xiangzhou
22.13
Śramaṇa "Nameless": it is not known where he was from. He observed various regions in quest of the Way, daunted by neither hardship nor toil. Excellent sites and famous mountains he made a point of visiting. During the Tianfu era, he arrived at a Chan cloister in Xiangzhou to hang up his staff, and together with a monk who was docile and law-abiding, he kept the ninety-day rain retreat. That person was well-mannered, yet his words were often bizarre and provocative; he gave his name as Faben. Sharing morning and evening together, their minds deeply harmonized with one another, as if they were long-standing Dharma companions. Faben said, "Where I left home and practiced study was at Zhulin Temple in the Western Mountains of Yedu—before the temple there are stone pillars. When you have leisure in the future, you must certainly visit me." That monk recalled the former pact and accordingly set out to seek him. When he reached a village below the mountains, he lodged at an araṇya and asked the monk there, "How far is it from here to Zhulin Temple?" The monk pointed afar toward the side of an isolated peak and said, "That place is it. According to ancient tradition, in the past it was a dwelling place of sages and worthies, but today only the name remains; thus there is no monastery or pure lodging where Buddhas are established and monks are settled." The monk doubted this, and set out at dawn. When he saw the bamboo grove, there were indeed stone pillars within the grove, and he was bewildered, not knowing its limits. The monk remembered Faben's parting words: "Just knock on the pillar, and you will see me." He thereupon struck the pillar several times with a small staff, whereupon he felt wind and clouds rise on all four sides, so that one could not see even an arm's length ahead; suddenly it cleared wide open, and multistoried towers stood facing each other, with himself beneath the three-arched gate. In a moment, Faben emerged from within, overjoyed to see him. Inquiring of past matters in the South and speaking of the local customs of Xiang and Deng, he led him through multiple gates, ascended to the secret hall, and brought him to pay respects to the venerable elder—who seemed like the monastery director. The elder asked questions again and again, and Faben said, "In earlier years we observed the rain retreat together in Xiangyang and once agreed to visit each other, which is why he has come to the mountain gate." The venerable elder said, "Good. After the meal, please let him depart; there is no seat for him here." This meant there was no place for an ordinary monk. When the meal was finished, Faben escorted him to the three-arched gate to part. Shortly after, heaven and earth became dark, and he knew not where to turn. In an instant, he was as before beside the stone pillars in the bamboo grove, and none of the rest could be seen. That monk came out and recounted the matter, and no one knew how that monk ended his life.
22.14
The appraisal says: What kind of person was the monk who entered the Bamboo Grove? The general opinion says: "One who encounters immortals is also an immortal; in a visit to a sacred temple, how could ordinary defilement be permitted? On the one hand, it manifests that a sacred temple exists among human beings; on the other hand, it shows that holy monks mingle among the monastic ranks. Do not disparage the saṅgharatna, for ordinary and holy are intermingled. This biography has been newly recounted concerning several people, yet from antiquity it has already been heard in several places. Furthermore, such as during the Wuping era of the Northern Qi, when Śramaṇa Yuantong attended upon a sick monk beneath a lecture hall; when that monk's summer retreat was completed and his illness cured, he made an appointment to meet at Zhulin Temple on Mount Gu in Yezhong, where the traces of the event were roughly similar. These are cases of different monks reaching the sacred temple at different times."
22.15
Later Han: A Biography of the Crazy Monk of Gaocheng County in Luoyang (Monk Cao)
22.16
Śramaṇa "the Crazy Monk": during the Kaiyun era of the Later Jin, he begged for mineral lime throughout the county, carrying it day and night into the two mountains of Greater and Lesser Liu. He said to travelers and village elders, "I intend to build a palace." Yet no one could fathom him; all called him "insane—what foundation does he have?" Transporting it in this way, he accumulated several thousand shi, sealing it very firmly. Thereafter, the villagers unexpectedly lost all trace of this monk. When the Qianyou era began, after Han Gaozu entered the present Eastern Capital and ascended the throne, he passed away in less than a year. At that time, an imperial edict ordered divination for the Rui Tomb below Greater Liu Mountain; the planners said, "Several million bricks and tiles can be fired and baked within this mountain. But how can lime be obtained?" Soon a village officer said, "In this place there was originally a monk who stored several thousand shi of lime, which should be sufficient when applied." When the commissioners inspected the imperial mausoleum upon its completion, the lime had been used with not a trace left; that the monk was not crazy was thereby verified. Furthermore, Śramaṇa Monk Cao of Zhenzhou was a native of Hengyang. He had no fixed dwelling, spoke in tangled disorder, wore ragged robes and broken shoes, had a grimy face and dark skin, and was called one of the crazy and undisciplined kind. The people of Qi and Zhao could not fathom him, yet many respected him. Some invited him to eat; when the meal was finished, he left in silence, his demeanor resembling one who was not drunk yet angry! The military governor An Chongrong, having governed the garrison for several years, hinted to the military officers and prefectural populace to follow standard practice and petition the imperial court to erect a stele celebrating his virtuous governance. On the day the stone stele was about to be erected, its shape stood towering. Monk Cao pointed at it, laughed heartily, and said, "It cannot be erected, it cannot be erected!" Everyone looked at one another and lost colour; the officials drove him away, yet Cao still spoke incessantly. When Chongrong secretly harboured treason, feeding horses and sharpening weapons, and was about to rebel, the imperial court suppressed and exterminated him, and the stele was soon destroyed. Whenever he pointed out or rebuked something, it was like an echo answering a sound. Later it was not known where he ended his life.
22.17
Later Zhou: A Biography of Sengjian of Jingzhong Temple in the Pseudo-Shu (The Nameless Monk of Daci Temple)
22.18
Shi Sengjian's secular given name was Jian, and his surname was Wang; he was a native of Jingzhao. In his youth he was perceptive and wise, with eloquence and bearing surpassing the crowd. In the eleventh year of the Dazhong era, he passed the examination with his policy response under Du Shenquan; Feng Juan, Director of the Palace Library, was an examination graduate of the same year. During the Qianfu era, Huang Chao's rebels swarmed everywhere, and fleeing the turmoil, he drifted with the crowds. Arriving at Zhugong, he threw himself upon the protection of Secretariat Director Cheng Rui. Rui attacked Huaihai without success, whereupon Jian shaved his head and took pravrajyā. When Lei Man occupied Jingzhou, Zhao Ning of Xiangzhou attacked and defeated him. The Liang founder dispatched Gao Jichang to execute and destroy them, so Jiangling came under the rule of the Gao family. Jian took refuge in the region between Kui and the Gorges. In the third year of the Tongguang era of the Later Tang, he entered Shu to seek out Feng Juan, but Juan was already dead. He then dwelt at Jingzhong Temple, with beard and hair snowy white and his complexion ruddy and leisurely, so that no one could fathom whether he was ordinary or profound. There was an advance scholar of Huayang named Wang Chuhou—having failed the examinations in pseudo-Shu in the yimao year, which was the second year of the Xiande era of the Zhou dynasty—who entered the temple to dispel his grief among the pines and bamboos, where he saw Jian. Jian said, 'Might you not be Wang Chuhou?' Chuhou said in surprise, 'We have never been acquainted; why do you suddenly call me by name?' Jian said, 'I merely happen to know.' He then stated that he was originally born at the beginning of the Dahe era of Emperor Wenzong of the Tang, more than one hundred and thirty years ago up to the present. Chuhou asked, 'How will my own fortune turn out?' [Jian said,] 'Your future affairs will reach their limit next year. From now on, what will happen can be known.' He meant that Shu was about to fall, and cautioned him not to leak it. The next day Chuhou sought him again, but all trace and sound of him had vanished without a trace. One day, [Jian] knocked at the gate and came on his own, saying, 'I went briefly to pay homage at Mount Emei and completed the summer retreat at Heishui, and have just returned.' On the desk Jian picked up an essay roll and browsed it; it was the draft of the rhapsody Chuhou had submitted for the prefectural examination. He said, 'Examining what is true and false, this is not the text you wrote under the lamp. Why deceive so much?' Thereupon he reached into his robe, drew out a draft of the rhapsody, and showed it to him: 'Is this not the genuine copy from the examination?' Chuhou was endlessly astonished and terrified, and said, 'After the examination, I occasionally polished it to make up for the hasty errors made under the lamp. From where did the master obtain this copy?' Jian said, 'Not only this one rhapsody; all that you have composed throughout your life is stored away.' The next day [Chuhou] visited him, and Jian took Chuhou by the hand into the northern corner of the temple. Together they paid respects at the shrine of the late Grand Defender, Duke of Bin, Du Cong, sitting under the western veranda. Presently, several clerks in diverse and mingled robes came out in a line from the halls, descended the steps, and bowed twice. Jian said, 'The new official is here; you may now pay your court respects.' Chuhou arose in fear and trepidation. Jian said, 'These fellows are to be driven and directed by you; why fear them? Do you know whether Mount Tai has nominated you to be the arbiter of fate? Still, because you have long harbored grand ambitions and have not yet fulfilled your former aspirations, they requested to wait until after you passed the examinations to carry it out. Upon checking the register of official emoluments again, it was seen that the number of people on next spring's roll has already been determined, and you are also included among them. This is being inscribed in the unseen and received in the visible realm. Passing the examination for worldly fame while consuming the emolument of the nether world—this is being inscribed in the visible and received in the unseen realm.' Chuhou was shaken and dismayed, not knowing what to make of it, and only asked, 'Who are the names of those who will pass next year?' Jian asked for paper and brush, immediately wrote a short slip, sealed it, gave it to him, and admonished him: 'Keep it strictly concealed. If it leaks out, disaster will arrive before you can even turn on your heel.' In a moment, the clerks dispersed. Jian took him by the hand and left the shrine, departing at dusk. When the spring examinations were over, Jian came to Chuhou's house and left a note saying, 'I am returning briefly to my humble hut; we shall not meet again.' Later, when Chuhou went to the temple's saṅgha hall to inquire about him, he had already gone elsewhere. He then tore open the short sealed slip and looked at it; it only had four lines written: 'Zhou and Cheng will both succeed, / Two Wangs with different names; / A Wang shall occupy the first place, / With a hundred days as the allotted span.' When the roll was issued, upon verification there were eight scholars. The 'two Wangs' were Chuhou and Wang Shenyan, and Wang [Chuhou] occupied the first place. Loathing the line 'With a hundred days as the allotted span,' Chuhou merely fraternized with his fellow examination graduates, setting out wine for grand gatherings to indulge fully in his pleasures. Consequently, he fell into dissolute abandon and took to his bed, and that night he died suddenly. His fellow graduates all dreamed of Chuhou in a blue robe with a scholar-tree tablet, riding at the head of an escort. Verifying the glory of his passing the examination, it lasted only one hundred and twenty days. Examining in detail the matter of Jian, he was born at the beginning of the Taihe era of Wenzong, established his career under Xuanzong in the Dazhong era, and when Wang Chuhou met him, he was already over one hundred and thirty years old. Next, an anonymous monk of Daci Temple in Chengdu of the pseudo-Wang Shu kingdom constantly chanted the Lotus Sūtra, making people delight in hearing it. When the time came for alms begging (piṇḍapāta), he took only enough to suffice. When his body suffered a slight ailment, someone showed him medicinal recipes. That monk, staff in hand, entered the Damian Mountain of Qingcheng to gather herbs. Following the stream and traversing perilous paths, clouds and mist suddenly arose on all four sides, so that he did not know where to go. After a while, he saw an old gentleman. The monk bowed to him, and after exchanging pleasantries, [the old gentleman] asked, 'Why have you come here?' The monk said, 'To gather a few medicinal herbs.' The old gentleman said, 'My farmstead is not far; could you slightly redirect your divine steps to come along?' The monk said, 'Having lost my way and gone astray, I am willing to follow the upāsaka.' Soon the clouds dispersed, and he saw a mansion gloomy and deep. As they drew near, the old gentleman said, 'Let me first report to the master of the farm.' When the monk entered the gate and observed the matters within, none were of the ordinary world. [The host] asked, 'Have you taken your midday meal yet?' He said, 'I have not yet eaten.' They burned incense, which felt remarkably dense and fragrant, and requested him to recite the sūtra of his practice. That monk recited the sūtra in a resonant voice, and was urged to recite the entire text through. The vegetarian meal served to him consisted entirely of foodstuffs from in front of Daci Temple. When the meal was finished, a maidservant carrying a bamboo vessel cushioned with fragrant grass presented him with an offering of five strings of cash to cover the master's expenses for buying sesame cakes. The old gentleman joined his palms and saw him off. Someone asked [who the host was], and said, 'This was Master Sun Simiao.' By the time [the monk] reached the temple, over a month had already passed. When the cash was about to be brought into the temple, it turned out to be golden coins. When the Wang family heard of it, they collected the gold coins and separately gave five hundred strings of cash. That monk distributed them in charity. From this one may know that immortal people constantly abide in celebrated mountains. Next, in Luomu County of Jia Prefecture, there was a lawsuit: Sun, a mountain hermit, had hired a donkey without paying the fee, and [the owner] begged for him to be arrested. When a young boy was asked, he said, 'It is Sun Simiao.' The county magistrate was amazed, and paid out money on his behalf to settle the debt. That person lived at the foot of the mountain; when he came out onto the county road, he saw Lord Sun take out two hundred coins and hand them to him, saying, 'I was originally waiting for you here; why were you so hastily surprised?' The final whereabouts of the monk who received the gold coins is not known.
22.19
Biography of Shijian of Huguang Cloister in Hangzhou under the Zhou Dynasty
22.20
Shi Shijian's surname was Zhao; he was a native of Danqiu. He did not abide by the vinaya precepts and standards, being unrestrained and untroubled. Wearing a tattered patch-robe, he mostly chanted verse and gāthās, and was fond of prophesying fortunes and misfortunes between Hangzhou and Yuezhou. At first no one believed him, but his predictions matched reality like tallies fitting together. In the mountain-reading and geomancy methods of Yixing and Jingchun, he had attained a distinct path, and often said: 'In the past, Daobian of Mount Tai attained the art of tomb geomancy; aside from that, there is nothing worth adopting.' He enjoyed relocating graves and reading tomb sites for people, and the auspiciousness or misfortune turned out exactly as he said. He had no fixed dwelling, mostly wandering among prominent families; saying that his belly was hungry, he would immediately ask for chicken meat to eat. Beyond this, if he obtained fine wine, he would sip several cups and depart. From the start he gave no words of thanks, yet he excelled at calligraphy—inscribing placards with large characters and signboards for temple and abbey gates. Once the calligraphy was complete, he would read their fortune, and good or bad fortune followed his words, being verified sooner or later. At first he dwelt in a cloister beside the West Lake in Hangzhou, and died without illness. Later, a traveler saw him in the marketplace of Changsha; holding hands and talking over old times, [Shijian] sent a message to the master of Chongshou Cloister: 'You previously owed me a certain amount of cash; I now release you from it. In the lower layer of the straw matting of my sleeping couch, there are dried meat scraps wrapped in paper, which must have rotted by now; discard them for me.' The cloister monks followed his words and indeed found them, whereupon they painted his portrait and made offerings to it. Jian had once said, 'The pointed-roof building will later be transformed by fire.' When the southern pagoda of the prefecture was burned by celestial fire in the wuwu year, it matched his words without error.
22.21
Biography of Wang Luohan of Qianfu Temple in Mingzhou under the Song Dynasty
22.22
Shi Wang Luohan was an unfathomable monk. He was extremely fond of pork and spoke like a madman, but his words were later often verified. He was once airing his clothes in the sun; when a thief was about to steal them, he bowed his head and pretended to sleep. When he had possessions and people came to beg from him, he never showed any sign of stinginess. In the sixth month of the early years of the Kaibao era, he suddenly died while seated. Three days later, when they were coating him with lacquer cloth, they suddenly heard a clicking sound from between his two cheeks, and all said he was rotting away. At night he appeared in dreams to several people, saying, 'The lacquer cloth suffocates me; why not open it?' The next day, they summoned the lacquer craftsman to strip it off: his flesh was red and white, and round grains of śarīra fell down, which were collected and worshipped. To this day his bodily relic remains in the home temple. At that time, Saṅgha Rectifier Zanning composed a stele recording this wonder. King Qian of the Hannan kingdom privately changed his title to the Venerable One of Secret Cultivation and Divine Transformation.
22.23
Biography of Zonghe of Yanshou Cloister in Tanzhou under the Song Dynasty (Daoyin)
22.24
Shi Zonghe was a native of Minyue. He traveled among the sacred peaks and drifted upon the Xiang River to seek good friends (kalyāṇamitra). As a monk, he stood aloof with few desires; though dwelling among the crowd all day, he would only smile. The people of Southern Chu largely had faith in and esteemed him. Later he resided at Yanshou Cloister. The late Grand Master of Remonstrance Lord Jia Ci was in administrative charge of the military commandery; hearing of him, he went to visit him, but no words were exchanged. The bystanders discussed it, saying, 'How could a man who has attained the Way be measured by ordinary standards?' Jia then firmly requested him to serve as abbot of Wenshu Cloister. On that day he ascended the seat, merely cited the essentials of Chan, and dispersed the assembly. The next day, he informed the assembly, 'Due to a certain matter, I must briefly depart; worthy ones, you should not make it difficult for me to leave.' In attire like that of an itinerant traveler, he crossed the Pengli, arrived before the courier station of Huangzhou, and died standing upright like a towering rock. From near and far people hurried to observe and pay homage. At that time, an emissary of the courier relay managed the funeral affairs and built a pagoda at the place where he died standing, which was the second year of the Kaibao era; today it is called Zhengshen Cloister. There was also Shi Daoyin of Da'an Temple in Mianchi, whose origin was unknown. He wandered between Mianchi, the Chan, and the Jian rivers, and said of himself, 'If a renunciant maintains frugality, he will seldom trouble others. By keeping company with beasts, there are no rights and wrongs filling one's ears.' He once kept a black dog; in coming and going, rising and resting, they never parted from each other. Whenever he ate, he used an iron bowl over the fire to cook; when the porridge was cooked, he ate together with the dog. Going ahead or behind, his conduct was bizarre, and no one could fathom him. One morning the monk died, and the dog also sat and perished. Today Da'an Temple has sculpted their statues, and both their bodily remains are preserved; this was during the Kaibao era. In Luoyang people revere and believe in them, and incense and flowers fill their shrine.
22.25
Biography of Master Diandian of Lingjiushan Temple in Dayi of Qiongzhou under the Song Dynasty
22.26
Shi Diandian Shi (Master Diandian), origin unknown. During the Guangzheng era of the Meng family [Later Shu], he dwelt in seclusion in a mountain temple in Dayi, south of Qiongzhou, frequently wandering among market stalls and taverns. Although he had undergone tonsure and donned the dyed robes, he constantly acted as if mad. Whenever he interacted with others, he would invariably point his finger while speaking; hence, people referred to him by this name. If anyone invited him to a vegetarian meal, he did not abstain from meat or wine, taking this as standard practice, and the local folk did not loathe him for it either. When evening came, he would purchase yellow and white hemp paper, brushes, and ink, put them in his bosom or sleeves, and return. Walking several li, he would arrive at dusk thoroughly intoxicated. The chamber he dwelt in had an outer door, yet lacked four walls. Once he entered and shut the door, no one could reach him. At first, a young novice of a neighbouring monk crept over to spy on him and saw him holding a candle and sitting with his legs sprawled out, laying the paper and brushes before him, scolding and writing in large characters that no one could decipher. Often he would shout and sigh as if issuing verdicts and handing down punishments. After a long while, looking closely in the interplay of light and dark, there appeared fleetingly what seemed to be figures densely lined up like clerks of an official tribunal, yet their coats and skirts were not garments of this world. The observer was terrified and retreated. The next morning, when he subtly inquired about this matter, [the master] grew angry and refused to reply. Having lived there for several years, the people of Qiong and Zha all considered him miraculous and supernatural. Later, his end was unknown.
22.27
The appraisal says: Master Diandian was able to prosecute ghosts, yet possessed no other loftiness or purity to serve as a model for living beings' good. Was he merely identical to the ancients who judged affairs of the underworld administration? The resolution says: "What one does lies in the mind. If it does not arise from the power of the correct path, then it is identical to the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice. If it does not originate from intentional talismans and incantations, then it is a case of ghosts and spirits being moved to take refuge, have faith, and be set to work. Therefore the Shanjie jing states: 'If supernatural powers are needed to transform and deliver [beings] in resonance with them, one manifests supernatural feats.' In the Mahāyāna-sūtrālaṅkāra, the bodhisattva takes supernatural transformations as playful joy. Furthermore, perhaps this was a person at the stage of the pratyekabuddha practice; thus the treatise states: 'The solitary enlightened one relies on this or that village to beg for food and delivers [beings] by means of his physical body. Not through speech does he display various supernatural realms, but to cause those who slander to turn toward [the Dharma].'"
22.28
Song Dynasty Biography of Xingman of the Zhizhe Dhyāna Cloister on Mount Tiantai
22.29
Shi Xingman was a native of Nanpu in Wanzhou. When he reached boyhood, with his hair bound up, his nature was bright and clever. He earnestly bid farewell to his kinsmen to seek to become a son of the Buddha. Just after he had received upasampadā, he heard that the way of Chan flourished between the lakes, and that at the gate of Shishuang there were distinguished men in great numbers, so he went thither to seek understanding. It happened that various Chan masters were passing away, so Man went to Yuzhang to observe the various Dharma assemblies, whereupon he attained peace. Next, he heard of the miraculous and sacred traces on Mount Tiantai; he therefore packed his baggage and journeyed there, residing at the Zhizhe Cloister below Huading Peak, overseeing the tea stove for the assembly of monks. Whenever he met people he was cheerful and joyful; having lived there for several decades, no one ever saw a look of anger on his face. He slept on an earthen bed, hollowed out underneath, burning rubbish to warm it. Every day when he took off his clothes and went to bed, fleas and bedbugs would bite and sting him, sucking him; when they were properly fed, he put his clothes back on as before. If someone secretly felt around his clothes, there was no trace of fleas or lice whatsoever. Previously, outside the balustrade of his room, there was a giant pine tree, upon whose horizontal boughs grew a parasitic tree. Whenever Man came out to sit, this parasitic tree would invariably sway and incline; at the time, people called it the tree bowing in respect to the tea master. Those who did not believe this would deliberately wait for Man to come out, and it would indeed sway; when Man left, it would stand upright and lofty, moving no more. Although he took his meals along with the assembly, he stopped after only a small portion. Within forty years, no one had seen him defecate or urinate. During the Kaibao era, he told people in advance, "I shall depart." He asked the assembly of monks to chant the name of Mañjuśrī to assist him, and silently passed away in a seated posture. His age was about eighty-odd. Man composed many verses and hymns to guide and preach.
22.30
Song Dynasty Biography of Fayuan of the Maozhai Cloister in Weifu (Master Kuang, Li Tongxuan)
22.31
The śramaṇa Fayuan, worldly surname Hao, was a native of Yuanshi in Zhending. Due to causes planted in past lives, he left worldly dust behind without hindrance. In the second year of Changxing of the Later Tang, he went to the Guanyin Cloister in his home prefecture. Diligently chanting and studying, his master shaved his hair, and in the following year he received the complete precepts (upasampadā). Later, grasping a staff and shouldering his bag, he went on pilgrimage throughout various regions. Arriving at Shaoshan, he hung his staff and perused the Tripiṭaka. In the third year of Kaiyun of the Jin, he returned to his native place and stayed at Tianwang Cloister. In the following year, the Khitan invaded the capital. The barbarian king Yelü Deguang turned back and died upon reaching Luancheng in Changshan. King Yongkang, Wugu, replaced him as ruler of the barbarian realm; he then withdrew the army and returned north under martial discipline from Zhenzhou, leaving the chieftains Mada and Yelü Jieli to guard the Lower Capital—namely Changshan—where all the Jin courtiers and soldiers were stationed. When the Han generals plotted to expel the ugly barbarians, before their plan was decided, the streets and alleys were split in two: for those Han people caught amid the barbarians, the barbarians struck first, and without distinction of young or old, all were slaughtered. Eight monks of Tianwang Cloister met their deaths, and Yuan was among their number—at that time, those killed were exceedingly numerous. At first, Yuan extended his neck and took two blade strikes, which sounded like striking wood or stone; Yuan shouted, 'Strike forcefully with a single sword!' Thereupon his head and torso were severed. By dusk, Yuan seemed to behold the evening glow as if in a dream, and also vaguely realized he had been slain; thinking to himself that he was already dead, he wondered that he could still see the sun and moon in the netherworld. After a while, he raised an arm to feel his head, and found it as it had been before. Repeatedly doubting it, he dared not move, fearing it would fall apart. He also thought it was merely held together by congealed blood; feeling it again, there was a scar circling his neck, a seam the width of a thread, which remained so for the rest of his life. At that time, once the barbarian tribes had been driven out of the city and things were slightly settled, bystanders helped him up, and at dawn he returned to the cloister. The cloister monks were just about to eat congee; seeing Yuan, they took him for a ghost and all fled in disarray. After a long while, upon ascertaining the truth, they rejoiced, saying he had been reborn; people from far and near came to gaze upon and pay homage to him, sighing at the rarity. The people of Changshan vied to present offerings. Thereafter, Yuan traveled again to various regions, having no fixed dwelling. Then, during the Xiande era of the Zhou, he stayed at Maozhai Cloister in Cheng'an County, Daming Prefecture, reviewing and investigating the Tripiṭaka teachings. In the sixth year of Kaibao, he suddenly said to the assembly, 'Human life is illusory; how could it last long? When things reach their extreme they transform; between birth-and-death and nirvāṇa there is surely not the slightest difference.' Within a few days he passed away forever. Both monastics and laity mourned as if having lost an intimate kin. When they escorted him to the day of cremation, śarīra like black grains of millet and broomcorn were obtained. He was seventy-four years of age, with a dharma age of fifty-one. At that time, Duke Lu Fan Zhi personally asked Yuan about the circumstances, showing great reverence. When he further inquired into his conduct, [he learned that Yuan] had read through the Tripiṭaka twice. Moreover, Master Kuang of Lengqie Temple in Fuzhou was the son of a garrison soldier of Haitan. At first, when his mother was pregnant, she inexplicably disliked meat and fish. When he was born, he was extraordinarily precocious, and would not taste fish or meat. By the age of eight, he relished wild herbs; if someone hoed and dug to plant them, he would say it killed living beings. Whenever he saw the household kitchen boiling or scorching beasts with fur or scales, he would grab handfuls of sand and ash with his hands and throw them into the stoves and cauldrons, wishing that they not be eaten. He said of himself, 'The pagoda of Kaiyuan Temple was built by me during the Sui dynasty.' He often spoke of matters before they occurred, and later they all matched. He then requested to leave the household life (pravrajyā). Upon donning the Dharma robes, a fragrance arose from his crown, as if burning aloeswood and sandalwood, so he was called a holy monk. At that time, Attendant Censor Huangfu Zheng, serving as acting governor, invited him into the administrative office and made over a hundred meat pastries, with only one being vegetarian; these dishes were mixed together and displayed before him, intending to test whether he was ordinary or holy. When Kuang approached the banquet, he went straight to pick out the vegetarian one and ate it, and brushing aside the rest with his hand, he got up. At that time, Huangfu's attendants were all astonished and sighed in praise. Whenever he went out into the streets, crowds surrounded him. He said of himself, 'My lifespan is limited to thirteen; I shall surely return to extinction.' When the time arrived, he indeed passed away. Thereupon, he was cremated before the temple; the men and women of the entire city wept, and according to the rite for a cakravartin, they erected a stupa for him. Furthermore, during the Kaiyuan era of the Tang, northeast of Taiyuan there was Li Tongxuan, who was said to be an imperial descendant of the Tang, though it is unknown from which prince's lineage he came. Disdaining carriages and caps of office, he esteemed forests and springs; his actions could not be fathomed. He was over seven feet tall, with a purple complexion, eyebrows extending past his eyes, beard and sideburns like a painting, dark blue and curling hair, moist red lips, and densely set teeth. He wore a birchbark cap and clothes tailored in the broad-sleeved style of coarse cloth. He did not tie a belt at his waist, nor wear shoes on his feet; yet in winter he had no affliction of chapped skin, and in summer he was not beset by grime and sweat. Free and easy, self-contented, he was bound by nothing. Moreover, he was broadly learned in ancient and modern lore, penetrating the depths of both Confucianism and Buddhism; when he expressed himself in speech, it sounded like the striking of a great bell. Yet he devoted his mind to the Avataṃsaka, never ceasing to cherish it. Whenever he perused the commentaries and explanations of various schools, which were overly verbose, he found that students exhausted their years without making any progress. In the spring of the seventh year of Kaiyuan, carrying the New Avataṃsaka Sūtra and leaning on a bamboo staff, he traveled from Dingxiang to the household of Gao Shannu in Daxian Village, Tongying Township, southwest of Yu County in the Bingbu region. He stayed in a side room to compose a commentary expounding the Avataṃsaka, not stepping outside the courtyard for nearly three years. Gao and the neighbors found him strange and unfathomable. Every day he ate ten jujubes and one cypress-leaf cake, needing nothing else. Later he moved beside the ancient Buddha hall of the Ma family in Southern Valley, erecting a small earthen hut to live in seclusion and rest in ease. Offerings of jujubes and cakes from the Gao family also continued to arrive. He once carried his commentary and the scripture toward the Han Family Estate—namely Guange Village—and on the way he met a tiger. Upon seeing it, Xuan stroked its back, placed the scriptures and commentary he carried upon it, and took them to an earthen niche; the tiger dropped its ears and departed. In that place there was no spring water to draw and use. It happened that a violent storm uprooted an old pine tree, and more than a hundred feet away a pool was formed, about ten cubits deep, its flavor fragrant and sweet; up to this day people call it the Elder's Spring. Villagers often went to it to pray for rain when there was a drought, and there were many responses. Furthermore, while he was composing the commentary, there was no lamp or candle in the room. Every night, holding the brush, white light more than a foot long emanated from both corners of his mouth, brilliantly illuminating everything, which became a constant phenomenon. From the time he arrived at the earthen niche, suddenly two women dressed in fine linen with white cloth headbands, of lovely and graceful countenance, delivered a basket of food before the niche; Xuan simply ate it. Throughout five years, paper and ink were provided without lack, and when the commentary was completed, they vanished. The commentary he composed comprised forty fascicles, summing up the texts and meanings of the eighty-fascicle scripture. Next was the Resolution of Doubts in four fascicles, integrating the profound essentials of the causes and fruits of the ten assemblies, and setting forth the Dharma-doors of the fifty-three stages. One day, while the villagers were gathered drinking wine, Xuan came and said to them: 'Take good care, all of you; I am now leaving!' The villagers were surprised and thought he was going elsewhere. Then he said, 'I am passing away.' They all wept with longing affection, and escorted him to the earthen niche; he said, 'Departing and staying are ordinary.' As the villagers went down the slope and looked back at the place, clouds and mist had grown dark; at the midnight hour, he passed away sitting upright within the niche, a white light emerging from his crown and piercing straight up to the great void—this was on the twenty-eighth day of the late spring in the eighteenth year of Kaiyuan. His age was ninety-six. At dawn, several people ascended the mountain and saw that his niche-room was filled with venomous serpents, so that none could advance. When they prayed together, the serpents scattered. Old and young, touched with remembrance, constructed a litter to receive him to the north of the great mountain, building a stone wall to bury him. This was the Jetavana Hermitage on Mount Shenfu—namely Mount Fang. On the day of his burial, two spotted deer, a pair of white cranes, and assorted birds and beasts appeared as if in sorrow and longing. In the sixth month of the ninth year of Dali, a monk named Guangchao came to the hermitage, gathered two copies of the commentary, summoned scholars to the mountain to transcribe them, and took them to the Fen River region to circulate them; from this, the commentary began to flourish. During the Dazhong era, the Minyue monk Zhining annotated the commentary beneath the scripture text, completing one hundred and twenty fascicles. The commentary had seven fascicles of Synthesized Explanations, which were not incorporated into the notes, but were also transcribed and appended at the beginning. In the dingmao year of the Qiande era of the Song, the Min monk Huiyan rearranged them once more, entitling it the Combined Treatise on the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, which circulated in the world and was prized by people.
22.32
The appraisal says: Liu Qianzhi, an inner attendant of the Northern Qi, followed a prince to Mount Wutai to burn his body. As Qianzhi practiced the Way for seven days, he miraculously regained the form of a man and covertly comprehended the meaning of the Avataṃsaka, whereupon he composed a commentary in six hundred fascicles, which has long been lost. When Elder Li's transformation spread in the Jin lands, his divine transformations were limitless, completely stemming from manifesting in this body to preach the Dharma. Some say: 'Li's commentary adds the ten assemblies, which the scripture itself lacks. Does deriving understanding based on Sanskrit letters not mistake mere names? How could this be an Elder preaching the Dharma?' The answer is: 'The ten assemblies exist in principle; we should await scriptures that arrive later. His explanation of namo says that it represents the empty center of the hexagram li—this is matching the Dharma with mind-contemplation. Only when one knows that encountering anything is mind does one comprehend the mind-nature. Therefore the sūtra says: "Knowing that all things are of the self-nature of the mind, one then accomplishes the wisdom-body without relying on the enlightenment of others." This is the suchness of mind and objects; suchness is equal and unobstructed. Looking at Li's comprehensive classification of teachings, could he fail to know the meaning of the Chinese language? I once heard that the Youzhou monk Huiming collected various apocryphal scriptures together with the Avataṃsaka Treatise and burned them together, simply because their Dharma-doors were incompatible. Apocryphal scriptures can be burned, but Li's treatise was hard to incinerate; his is not the realm of lesser sages. This is just like the doctrines of Yang and Mo opposing Confucianism, while those who wander beyond the world in turn resent Confucius and Mencius; water and fire abhor each other, with no end. If you ask a man of thorough understanding, he will say: let each group advance side by side, without displacing the other's order.'
First 32 of 36 passages. Read on
Linked texts (1)
- 宋高僧傳 — 贊寧, Classical Chinese