天台九祖傳 1.6

1.6

三祖南嶽尊者。諱慧思。姓李氏。武津人也。少以寬慈。頂生肉髻。耳有重輪。象視牛行。勝相莊嚴。與世自異。甞夢梵僧勉令出俗。駭悟斯瑞。辭親入道。奉持守素。梵行清潔。及稟具戒。日唯一食。不受別施。迴栖幽靜。杜絕將迎。誦法華等經。所至小庵被人所焚。隨顯癘（音例。疫病）疾。求誠乞懺。還創草室。持經如故。其患平復。仍夢。梵僧數百形服瓌（公回切。大也）異祈請師僧。加羯磨法。具足成就。驚寤方知夢受。勤務更深。無棄昏曉。又夢。彌勒與諸眷屬同會龍華。心自惟曰。我於釋迦末法。受持法華。今值慈尊。感傷悲泣。豁然覺悟。轉復精進。靈瑞重沓（達合切）供養嚴備。若有天童侍衛因讀妙勝定經歎禪功德。發心修定。時北齊禪師聚徒數百。眾法清肅道俗高尚。乃往歸依從受正法。性樂苦節。營僧為業。冬夏供養不憚勞苦。晝夜攝心。理事籌（音儔。算也）度。訖此兩時。未有所證。又於來夏。束身長坐。繫念在前。始三七日發少靜觀。見一生善惡業相。倍復勇猛。遂動八觸。發本初禪。禪障忽起。四肢緩弱。不勝行步。身不隨心。即自觀察。我今病者。皆從業生。業由心起。本無外境。反見心源。業非可得。身如雲影。相有體空。如是觀已。顛倒想滅。心性清淨。所苦消除。又發空定。心境廓然。夏竟受歲。慨（口概切。太息也）無所獲。自傷昏沈。生為空過。深懷慚愧。放身倚壁。背未至間。霍（忽郭切。揮霍也）爾開悟。法華三昧。大乘法門。一念明達。十六特勝。背捨徐入。便自通徹。不由他悟。研練愈久。前觀轉增。名行遠聞。四方欽德。學徒日盛。機悟實繁。乃以大小乘中定慧等法。敷揚引喻。用攝自他。眾雜精麁。是非由起。怨嫉鴆（直禁切。以毛歷飲食能殺人）毒。毒所不傷。異道興謀。謀不為害。乃顧徒屬曰。大聖在世。不免流言。況吾無德。豈逃此責。責是宿作。時至須受。此私事也。然我佛法不久應滅。當往何方以避此難。時空聲曰。若欲修定。可往武當南嶽。是入道山也。以齊武平之初。背此嵩陽。領徒南逝。初至光州。值梁孝元傾覆國亂。前路梗塞。權止大蘇山。數歲之間。歸從如市。每示眾曰。道源不遠。性海非遙。但向己求。莫從他覓。覓亦不得。得亦非真。由是供以事資。誨以理味。秖欲學者悟自本心。因以道俗福施。造金字般若金字法華琉璃寶函。眾請講二經。即時玄敘隨文造盡。莫非幽賾。後命大師代講金經。至一心具萬行處。大師有疑。師曰。汝向所疑。此乃大品次第意耳。未是法華圓頓旨也。吾昔一心頓發諸法。吾既身證。不勞致疑。遂咨受法華行法三七境界。大領玄旨。又諮師位即十地耶。曰非也。吾十信鐵輪位耳。然其謙退言難見實。本迹叵詳。後在大蘇。弊於烽警（上音峯。烽燧候表也。邊有警則舉火。晝曰燧。夜曰烽）山侶栖遑不安其地。將四十餘僧徑趣南嶽。時陳光大二年歲次戊子夏六月二十二日也。至即告曰。吾止此滿十年耳。先是梁僧慧海居衡嶽寺。及見師欣如舊識。以寺請師止之。海遷他所。師復徙眾方廣。靈蹟懋異具如別記。甞曰。吾前世曾履此處。因遊嶽頂。遲立林泉。其處竦淨。若有所憶。尋指巖叢曰。吾前身於此入定。賊斬吾首。眾共掘之。獲聚骨。果無首。今名一生巖者是也。復指盤石曰。此下亦吾前世骸骨。眾舉石驗。果得紅白骨。聯若鉤鎖。即其地累石瘞（於罽切。埋也）骨。危其巔為二生塔。徘徊東上見石門窅隩（上音杳）曰。此靈巖幽戶過者必增道力。乃古寺也。吾先亦甞捿托。因斧蒙密處。果得僧用器皿堂宇層甓（並的切。甎也）之基。其地爽塏（高明之地曰爽塏。左傳曰。請更諸爽塏。文選曰。處高泉而爽塏）適大嶽心。於是築臺。為眾說般若。因號三生藏。事驗非一。陳朝碩學莫不歸宗。時有異道。懷嫉密告陳主。誣師北僧陰受齊券掘斷嶽心。勅使至山。見兩虎咆憤。驚駭而退。數日復進召師。師謂使曰。尊使先行貧道續來。師飛錫而往至京。四門俱見師入。監使同時共奏。帝驚異引見。勅承靈應。乃迎下都。止栖玄寺。一無所問。先有小蜂。飛螫師額。尋有大蜂。咬殺小者。銜首師前。飛揚而去。不久謀罔一人暴死。二為猘（居例切。狂犬。宋書曰。張收甞為猘犬所傷。食蝦蟆鱠而愈）狗嚙死。蜂相所徵。於是驗矣。師往瓦官。遇雨不濕。履泥不污。僧正慧暠（音杲）與諸學徒相逢於路曰。此神異人如何至此。舉朝屬目道俗傾仰。大都督吳明徹敬重之至。奉以犀枕。別將夏侯孝威往寺禮覲。在道默念吳儀同所奉枕。欲得一見。比至師所。將行致敬。師便語威。欲見犀枕。可往視之。又於一日忽有聲告。洒掃庭宇。聖人尋至。即如其語。須臾師到。威懷仰之。言於道俗。故貴賤皂素悉歸向之。趣歸南嶽。不敢延留。帝餞以殊禮。目為大禪師。人舡供給送到江渚。師曰。寄跡南嶽。止十年耳。期滿當移。時眾不識其旨。及還山。每歲陳主三信參勞。供施眾積。榮盛莫加。說法倍常。神異難測。或現形大小。或寂示藏身。或異香奇色祥瑞亂舉。臨將終時。從山頂下。半山道場大集門學。連日說法。苦切呵責。聞者寒心。告眾曰。若有十人不惜身命。常修法華般舟念佛三昧方等懺悔。行是行者。隨有所須。吾自供給。必相利益。如無。吾當遠離。苦行事難。竟無答者。因屏眾斂念。泯然命盡。小僧靈辯見師氣絕。號吼大叫。師便開目曰。汝是惡魔。我將欲去。眾聖相迎。論受生處。何意驚動。妨亂吾耶。癡人出去。因更攝心。諦坐至盡。咸聞異香滿室。頂煗身軟。色如生。春秋六十有四。即陳太建九年歲次丁酉六月二十二日也。取驗十年。宛然符合。師平日服布素。寒則實以艾。徒屬服章率皆如此。凡有著作。口授成章。無所刪改。四十二字門兩卷。無諍行門兩卷。釋論玄隨自意安樂行次第禪要三智觀門等五部各一卷。並行于世。南山律師贊曰。自江東佛法弘重義門。至於禪法。蓋蔑如也。而南嶽尊者慨思南服。定慧雙開。晝談義理。夜便思擇。故所發言無非致遠。因定發慧。此旨不虛。南北禪宗罕不承緒。然而身相挺特能自勝持。見者回心。不覺傾伏。善識人心。鑒照冥機。訥於言過。方便誨引。行大慈悲。奉菩薩戒。至如繒纊皮革。多由損生。故其徒服章率皆以布。寒則艾。衲用犯風霜。自佛法東流。幾六百載。唯斯南嶽慈行可歸。余甞參傳譯。屢覩梵經。討問所被法衣。至今都無蠶服。縱加受法。不云得成。若乞若得。蠶綿作衣。准律結科。斬捨定矣。約情貪附。何由縱之。唯南嶽獨斷高遵聖檢（居奄切。書檢印窠封題也）者也。

The Third Patriarch, the Venerable of Nanyue, whose taboo name was Huisi, was of the Li family and a native of Wujin. From his youth he was broad-minded and compassionate. A fleshy uṣṇīṣa grew atop his head, and his ears had double rings. He had the gaze of an elephant and the gait of an ox, adorned with superior physical marks, naturally distinguished from the ordinary world. He once dreamed that an Indian monk exhorted him to leave the secular life; startled into awakening by this auspicious sign, he took leave of his parents and entered the Way. He held fast to plain simplicity, his pure conduct unblemished. Upon receiving the full precepts, he ate only one meal a day and accepted no special offerings. He retired to secluded tranquility, completely putting an end to escorting and receiving visitors. He chanted sūtras such as the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka. When the small hut where he stayed was burned down by someone, he immediately manifested an epidemic illness; seeking with sincerity and begging for repentance, he built a grass hut again and held the sūtra as before, whereupon his ailment subsided. He further dreamed of several hundred Indian monks of extraordinary appearance and garb, who requested the monastic assembly to perform the karmavācanā rite and confer [the precepts upon him] in full completion. Awakening with a start, he realised he had received them in a dream, and his diligent devotion deepened even more, discarding neither dusk nor dawn. He also dreamed that Maitreya and his retinue assembled together at the Dragon Flower Tree. Huisi thought to himself: 'During the Final Dharma age of Śākyamuni, I have received and upheld the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka; now encountering the Merciful Honoured One, I am moved to sorrowful weeping.' Suddenly he had an awakening, and became all the more energetic. Miraculous omens multiplied; offerings were lavishly prepared, as though heavenly youths were waiting upon and guarding him. Because he read the Miaoshengding jing praising the merits of dhyāna, he resolved to practice meditation. At that time, the Chan master of Beiqi gathered several hundred disciples; the community's discipline was pure and solemn, and both monastics and laity held him in high esteem. Huisi went and took refuge, receiving the true Dharma from him. By nature fond of bitter discipline, he took tending to the monastic community as his occupation; winter and summer he provided offerings without shirking toil and hardship. Day and night he focused his mind, deliberating upon principle and practice. Through these two periods, he had not yet attained realization. Then, in the following summer retreat, he sat upright without lying down, tethering his mindfulness to what was before him. In the first three weeks, a slight tranquil contemplation arose, and he saw the karmic signs of good and evil throughout a lifetime. Becoming doubly valiant and vigorous, he then stirred the eight sensations and gave rise to the fundamental first dhyāna. The obstacles to dhyāna suddenly arose: his four limbs grew slack and weak, incapable of walking, his body not obeying his mind. He immediately observed within himself: 'My present illness is entirely born from karma. Karma arises from the mind; originally there is no external object. Looking back into the source of the mind, karma cannot be found. The body is like the shadow of a cloud: its marks exist, but its substance is empty.' Having contemplated thus, inverted thoughts were extinguished, the nature of mind became pure, and his suffering was eliminated. He also brought forth the meditation on emptiness, and his mind and objects became vast and open. When the summer retreat ended and he received monastic rains-retreats, he sighed that he had gained nothing. Lamenting his own torpor and that his life had passed in vain, he harboured deep shame and let his body lean against the wall. Before his back touched it, all of a sudden he awakened. The Saddharmapuṇḍarīka samādhi and the Dharma-gates of the Mahāyāna were clearly mastered in a single thought. The sixteen superior contemplations and the eight liberations entered him gradually; he then penetrated them on his own, not relying on awakening from another. The longer he investigated and refined it, the more his previous contemplation increased. His reputation and conduct were heard far and wide, and the four directions revered his virtue. His students grew daily in number, and those with opportune awakening were indeed manifold. Thereupon, with the teachings of dhyāna and wisdom in the Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna, he expounded and illustrated them with parables to draw in himself and others. The assembly was a mix of refined and coarse, from which disputes arose. Out of jealousy, some used poisoned bird venom, but the poison could not harm him; heterodox paths plotted schemes, but their schemes could do no harm. He then looked back at his disciples and said: 'When the Great Sage was in the world, he did not avoid slanderous rumors; how much less can I, devoid of virtue, escape this blame? The blame is from past actions; when the time comes, it must be received. This is a personal matter. However, the Dharma of our Buddha will soon be extinguished; where should we go to escape this calamity?' At that time, a voice in the air said: 'If you wish to cultivate meditation, you may go to Wudang and Nanyue; these are mountains for entering the Way.' At the beginning of the Wuping era of Qi, turning his back on Songyang, he led his disciples south. When he first arrived in Guangzhou, it coincided with the downfall of Emperor Xiaoyuan of Liang and civil turmoil; the road ahead was blocked, so he temporarily stayed at Mount Dasu. Within a few years, those who came to follow him were as numerous as a marketplace. He would often instruct the assembly: 'The source of the Way is not far; the ocean of nature is not distant. Only seek it within oneself; do not look for it from others. If you search for it, you will not find it; even if you find it, it will not be real.' Therefore, he provided material necessities and instructed them with the flavor of principle, merely desiring that students awaken to their own original mind. Thus, with meritorious donations from monastics and laity, he made golden-character Prajñā and golden-character Saddharmapuṇḍarīka sūtras with lapis lazuli jewel caskets. The assembly requested him to lecture on the two sūtras; immediately, his profound introductory expositions and verse-by-verse analyses reached the utmost depths, all of them mysterious and subtle. Later, he commanded the Great Master [Zhiyi] to lecture on the Golden Sūtra on his behalf. When it came to the section where 'one mind is endowed with the myriad practices,' the Great Master had doubts. The Master said: 'What you doubted just now is merely the meaning of the successive stages of the Mahāprajñāpāramitā; it is not yet the perfect and sudden import of the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka. In the past, I suddenly gave rise to all dharmas in a single mind. Since I have personally verified this, do not trouble yourself with doubts.' Thereupon, Zhiyi inquired into and received the three-week realm of the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka practice, greatly grasping the profound import. He also inquired about the Master's own stage: 'Is it the ten bhūmis?' The Master replied: 'No. I am only at the iron-wheel stage of the ten faiths.' However, in his modest retirement, his words are difficult to take at face value, and his fundamental status and trace manifestations cannot be fully scrutinized. Later at Dasu, troubled by beacon alarms, the mountain community was unsettled and felt unsafe in that place. Taking more than forty monks, he headed straight for Nanyue. It was the twenty-second day of the sixth month in summer, the wuzi year, the second year of Guangda of Chen. Upon arriving, he announced: 'I shall stay here for only ten full years.' Prior to this, the Liang monk Huihai had resided at Hengyue Temple; when he saw the Master, he was delighted as if with an old acquaintance, and offered the temple, asking the Master to stay there. Hai relocated elsewhere, and the Master again moved his assembly to Fangguang. His miraculous traces and extraordinary deeds are fully recorded in a separate biography. He once said: 'In a previous life I walked this place.' Ascending to the summit of the mountain, he lingered by a grove and spring; the place was lofty and serene, as though he remembered something. He then pointed to a rocky thicket and said: 'In my previous life I entered meditation here; bandits cut off my head.' The assembly dug together and found a pile of bones, which indeed lacked a head. This is what is now called the One-Life Cliff. He also pointed to a flat boulder and said: 'Beneath this are also the bones of my past life.' The assembly lifted the stone to verify it, and indeed found red and white bones interlinked like chain hooks. Right at that site, stones were piled to entomb the bones, and a stupa was erected at its peak, called the Two-Lives Pagoda. Strolling eastward and ascending, he saw the deep recesses of a stone gate and said: 'This secluded portal of the miraculous cliff will surely increase the power of the Way for those who pass by; it is an ancient temple. I also previously resided here.' Cleaving through the dense overgrowth with an axe, they indeed found monks' utensils and the foundations of hall buildings and layered bricks. The land was high and clear, right at the heart of the Great Mountain. Thereupon a terrace was built, and he expounded the Prajñāpāramitā for the assembly; thus it was named the Three-Lives Treasury. The proofs of such events were not few. The eminent scholars of the Chen dynasty all took refuge in him. At that time, there were followers of heterodox paths who harboured jealousy and secretly reported to the Chen emperor, falsely accusing the Master, as a northern monk, of secretly receiving the Qi dynasty's deed to sever the heart of the mountain. When the imperial envoy arrived at the mountain, he saw two tigers roaring in fury, and retreated in terror. A few days later, he returned to summon the Master. The Master said to the envoy: 'Your Excellency may go first; this poor monk will follow.' The Master flew his staff and travelled to the capital; at all four gates, the Master was seen entering simultaneously. The monitoring envoy and others reported this together. The emperor, amazed, granted him an audience. Having received the imperial decree in response to his spiritual efficacy, he was welcomed to the lower capital to reside at Xixuan Temple, and was not interrogated at all. Earlier, a small bee had flown and stung the Master's forehead; shortly after, a large bee bit and killed the small one, and flew off carrying its head before the Master. Not long after, one of the plotters died violently, and two were bitten to death by rabid dogs. What the portent of the bees portended was thereby verified. When the Master went to Waguan, he was not wetted by rain, nor soiled by treading in mud. The Monastic Controller Huigao and various disciples met him on the road and said: 'How did this man of spiritual wonders arrive here?' The entire court fixed its gaze upon him, and monastics and laity leaned toward him in admiration. The Grand Commander Wu Mingche respected him to the utmost and offered him a rhinoceros-horn pillow. The Adjunct General Xiahou Xiaowei went to the temple to pay his respects; on the road, he silently thought of the pillow offered by Wu, Equal to the Three Excellencies, wishing he could see it. When he arrived at the Master's place and was about to pay homage, the Master immediately said to Wei: 'If you wish to see the rhinoceros-horn pillow, you may go and look at it.' Another day, a voice suddenly announced: 'Sweep and clean the courtyard and halls; a sage will soon arrive.' It happened just as spoken: in a moment, the Master arrived. Wei held him in admiration and spoke of it to monastics and laity; hence high and low, monks and laypeople all turned to him. Intending to return to Nanyue, he dared not linger. The emperor saw him off with extraordinary etiquette, designating him as Great Chan Master, and provided boats and provisions to send him to the riverbank. The Master said: 'I have lodged my trace at Nanyue for only ten years; when the period expires, I must depart.' The assembly at the time did not understand his meaning. When he returned to the mountain, every year the Chen emperor sent three letters of greeting, and offerings accumulated in abundance, with supreme honor and glory. His preaching of the Dharma doubled as usual, his spiritual wonders unfathomable: sometimes manifesting large or small forms, sometimes serenely concealing his body, or with strange fragrances, rare colors, and auspicious omens appearing in abundance. As his end approached, he came down from the mountain peak to the halfway bodhimanda and gathered his disciples, expounding the Dharma for consecutive days with severe and cutting reproofs, so that those who heard him were chilled to the heart. He told the assembly: 'If there are ten people who do not begrudge their bodies and lives, constantly cultivating the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka, the Pratyutpanna Buddha-mindfulness samādhi, and the Vaipulya repentance—if there are practitioners of these practices, whatever they need, I will personally supply it, and surely benefit them. If not, I shall depart far away.' Because the ascetic practices were difficult, in the end no one responded. He therefore dismissed the assembly, collected his thoughts, and passed away calmly. The novice Lingbian, seeing the Master breathe his last, wailed and cried aloud. The Master then opened his eyes and said: 'You are an evil māra! I was about to depart, and the holy ones were welcoming me to discuss where I would be reborn; why do you startle me and disturb my concentration? Foolish man, get out!' Thereupon he gathered his mind once more, sat upright until his demise. All smelled a strange fragrance filling the room; the crown of his head was warm, his body soft, and his complexion as if alive. His age was sixty-four; it was the twenty-second day of the sixth month, the dingyou year, the ninth year of the Taijian era of the Chen dynasty. Verifying the ten-year period, it tallied exactly. In daily life, the Master wore plain cloth; when cold, he wadded it with mugwort, and his disciples' attire was generally the same. Whenever he composed works, they were dictated into chapters without any deletion or revision: The Forty-Two Syllable Gate in two fascicles; The Dharma-Gate of Non-Contentious Practice in two fascicles; and The Profound Meaning of the Commentary, According with One's Own Will, Pleasant Practices, The Gradual Essentials of Dhyāna, and The Contemplation Gates of the Three Wisdoms—these five works in one fascicle each, all circulating in the world. Vinaya Master Nanshan eulogized: 'Ever since the Buddha's Dharma spread south of the Yangzi, doctrinal teachings were heavily prioritized, whereas as for Chan methods, they were almost non-existent. But the Venerable of Nanyue, sighing with concern, came to the southern regions, developing both meditation and wisdom. By day he discussed doctrinal principles, and by night he reflected and deliberated. Thus whatever words he uttered were without exception far-reaching. Giving rise to wisdom through meditation—this principle is not in vain. The northern and southern Chan lineages rarely fail to inherit his thread. Moreover, his physical marks were outstanding, capable of commanding reverence naturally; those who saw him experienced a transformation of heart and felt unawares inclined to submit. He was skilled at reading people's minds and clearly discerning hidden inclinations. Slow to speak of faults, he expediently instructed and guided, practicing great compassion and upholding the bodhisattva precepts. Regarding silks, floss, and leather, as they mostly involve harming life, his disciples' robes and garments were generally made of cloth; when it was cold, mugwort quilted robes were used to withstand wind and frost. Since the Buddha's Dharma flowed east, nearly six hundred years have passed; only this compassionate conduct of Nanyue is truly worthy of refuge. I have personally participated in translation and repeatedly seen Sanskrit sūtras; inquiring into the Dharma robes worn, to this day none are made of silk from silkworms. Even if the precept ordination is added, it is not deemed successful. Whether begged or received, making robes from silkworm floss is determined by the Vinaya to require cutting and discarding. Bound by attachment and desire, how could one indulge it? Only Nanyue made independent judgment and loftily complied with the sacred regulations.'