弘明集 13

English (machine translation) 13

Language: English

13.1

Compiled by Shi Sengyou, Vinaya Master of Jianchu Monastery in Yangdu of the Liang

13.2

Essentials of Practicing the Dharma, by Xi Jiabin
Two Chapters of Household Instructions, by Yan Yanzhi
Sun and Moon Torch, by Wang Gai

The Three Refuges mean: taking refuge in the Buddha, taking refuge in the scriptures of the twelve divisions, and taking refuge in the bhikṣu saṃgha; in the Buddhas of the past, present, and future, of the three times and ten directions; in the scriptural teachings of the three times and ten directions; and in the saṃgha of the three times and ten directions. Whenever one bows in worship and repents, one should with the utmost sincerity take refuge, and with compassionate thoughts toward all sentient beings, vow that all may attain deliverance. In the language of foreign lands, this is called namo; in Chinese, it means 'to take refuge.' 'Buddha' in the Chinese language means 'the Awakened One'; 'Saṃgha' in the Chinese language means 'the Assembly.' As for the five precepts: First, not to kill, nor to instruct others to kill, which must be steadfastly upheld for the duration of one's life. Second, not to steal, nor to instruct others to steal, which must be steadfastly upheld for the duration of one's life. Third, not to commit sexual misconduct, nor to instruct others to commit sexual misconduct, which must be steadfastly upheld for the duration of one's life. Fourth, not to deceive, nor to instruct others to deceive, which must be steadfastly upheld for the duration of one's life. Fifth, not to drink alcohol, nor to give alcohol as a charitable gift, which must be steadfastly upheld for the duration of one's life. If alcohol is used as medicine, one must weigh its gravity and strictly avoid becoming drunk. Drunkenness entails thirty-six faults, of which the scriptural teachings give grave warning. By not killing, one attains long life; by not stealing, one is always at peace; by not committing sexual misconduct, one is pure; by not deceiving, one is constantly respected and trusted by people; by not becoming drunk, the spiritual faculty remains clear and well-ordered. Having practiced the five precepts, one then cultivates the three annual fast periods and the six monthly fast days. The three annual fast periods are: from the first day to the fifteenth day of the first month; from the first day to the fifteenth day of the fifth month; and from the first day to the fifteenth day of the ninth month. The six monthly fast days are: the eighth, fourteenth, fifteenth, twenty-third, twenty-ninth, and thirtieth days of the month. On all fast days, fish and meat must not be consumed; one eats before noon, and once noon has passed, one must not taste any sweet, aromatic, or delicious food. One must cleanse the mind and contemplate the Dao, taking refuge in the Three Venerated Ones, repenting of past transgressions, reproaching oneself, and practicing the four immeasurables. One must stay away from bedchambers, not cling to the six desires, and must not whip, beat, revile, ride oxen or horses, or carry weapons. Women must additionally discard decorations of fragrant flowers, cosmetics, and powder, rectifying their minds and correct intentions, striving to remain gentle and compliant. Fasting is done generally for the deceased ancestors, currently living friends, and relatives, as well as for all sentient beings; through this utmost sincerity, each should arouse their minds. Once the mind is stirred to action, one will ultimately be freed from sinful suffering. Therefore, loyal and filial persons must strive to apply themselves with diligence; it is truly because the efficacy of rescuing others does not rest merely with oneself. On fast days, one should only focus on contemplating the profound vision and chanting the words of the Dharma. If one is unable to practice emptiness, one should practice the six recollections. The six recollections are: recollection of the Buddha, recollection of the scriptures, recollection of the saṃgha, recollection of giving, recollection of the precepts, and recollection of the heavens. What is meant by recollection of the heavens? The ten good deeds and the four immeasurables correspond to the heavenly practices. Furthermore, one must make every effort within one's ability to relieve and rescue sentient beings.

13.6

The ten good deeds are: physically not committing killing, stealing, or sexual misconduct; mentally not being jealous, angry, or foolish; and verbally not uttering false speech, ornate words, divisive speech, or harsh speech. What is meant by not killing? One should constantly take pity on all creeping and wriggling creatures; even in distress and extremity, one never harms them. Whenever sentient beings face perils and difficulties, one should do one's utmost to rescue them, seeing that each, according to water or land, finds its proper place. If there is suspicion that an animal was killed for one's own sake, one must not accept it. What is meant by stealing? Taking what is not one's own, regardless of whether it is large or small, as well as not being clean and incorrupt when holding official office, is all called stealing. What is meant by sexual misconduct? All forms of attachment are generally called sexual misconduct; when applied to sexual desire, whatever is not with one's lawful spouse must not be violated.

13.7

Furthermore, secret theft and lack of impartiality also constitute the sin of stealing. What is called jealousy means envy: seeing the good of others or seeing others gain, one should rejoice on their behalf, and must not harbor a mind of contention, hatred, or jealousy. What is called anger means harboring resentment in one's mind, storing it and tying it up within. What is called foolishness means not believing in the Great Dharma and having doubts and ignorance about the scriptural Dao. What is meant by false speech? Taking what is non-existent as existent and fabricating [untruths] without foundation. What is meant by ornate words? Embellishing with clever speech that is flowery but devoid of substance. What is meant by divisive speech? Speaking differently behind someone's back than to their face, saying this to one person and that to another. What is meant by harsh speech? It means reviling and scolding.

13.8

Some also say that verbally speaking of unwholesome matters so as to cause others to adopt them as a fault also constitutes harsh speech. Regarding all these ten things, one must not allow a thought [of them] to arise even for an instant. These are the ten good deeds, also called the ten precepts. The five precepts restrain the physical form; the ten good deeds guard the mind. Because their application differs in coarseness and subtlety, the retribution differs in lightness and gravity. Wherever there is a realm with spatial boundaries, it is collectively called the three realms. Within the three realms, there are altogether five destinies: the first is devas; the second is humans; the third is animals; the fourth is hungry ghosts; the fifth is hell. One who preserves the five precepts completely possesses the human form; one who is fully equipped with the ten good deeds is born in the heavenly halls. One who preserves a single precept may also attain rebirth as a human. That there are high and low among humans, or differences in longevity and early death, is entirely due to having more or fewer precepts. The opposite of the ten good deeds is called the ten unwholesome deeds. If all ten unwholesome deeds are committed, one enters the hells. Those who are stubborn, contentious, and violent, refusing to accept loyal admonition, and those whose poisonous minds flourish within, sacrificing all for selfish ends while deceiving and endangering others, will either fall into the animal realm or be reborn as snakes and vipers. Those who are stingy, greedy, exclusively focused on profit, and constantly tormented by feeling unsatisfied, will fall among the hungry ghosts. If their offenses are relatively fewer but they harbor much secret selfishness and are not fair and upright, they will all fall among ghosts and spirits; although they receive minor blessings, they cannot avoid pain and suffering. These are called the three pathways, and are also called the three evil destinies.

13.9

Form, feeling, perception, impulse, life-and-death, and consciousness are called the five skandhas. In every case, that which possesses an externally visible corporeal form is form. When losing it, the distress and vexation is feeling as pain; when acquiring it, the joy and delight is feeling as pleasure. Anticipatory thought before something arrives is conceptualization. Recollecting the past is perception. The initial arising of a mental thought is life [or origination]; when a perception passes and the mental consciousness ceases, it is death [or cessation]. What was once linked to the mind, collected and unforgotten, is consciousness. As for consciousness, it passes through accumulated kalpas and still sprouts within the breast; though one may be benighted as to whence it arose, it clings to the faculties. Secretly knotting together, it begins from a minute fraction and culminates in deep abysses and lofty mountains. For this reason, practitioners must be prudent about what they habituate themselves to.

13.10

The five hindrances are: first, greed and lust; second, anger and resentment; third, ignorance; fourth, wrong views; and fifth, agitation and frivolity. To speak of them separately: pursuing desires is greed; indulgence and attachment is lust. What breaks out externally is anger; what is knotted internally is resentment. Being tied to fetters and attachments, clashing with principle and being inverted and confused, is ignorance. In the causes and conditions of birth and death, ignorance is the root; all attachments begin with ignorance. The cruel torments of hell mostly originate from resentment.

13.11

A sūtra states: 'Killing a person in a sudden brawl carries a sin that is still relatively light; but cherishing malice and hatching hidden plots binds one across accumulated kalpas with no date of liberation.'

13.12

The six emotional dispositions are also called the six declines, and are likewise termed the six desires. That is to say: the eye receives forms; the ear receives sounds; the nose receives fragrances; the tongue receives flavors; the body receives fine and smooth touch; and the mind receives consciousness. Consciousness here is precisely what was referred to above as the skandha of consciousness. The five skandhas and six desires are indeed the roots of birth and death, and that from which sin and suffering originate. The methods to dispel and regulate them are all fully recorded in the various sūtras.

13.13

A sūtra states: 'The mind makes heaven, the mind makes humans, the mind makes hell, the mind makes animals; up to and including those who attain the Dao, it is also the mind.' Whenever a thought issues from the mind, retribution is received for thought after thought. Though the deed has not yet reached corporeal form, the unseen retribution is already framed in the dark realm. The movement of thoughts is roundly swift, occurring in a flash without interval; the mechanism is set in motion at the tip of a fine hair and instantly fills the universe. Sins, blessings, the corporeal, and the Dao all proceed from it. Good fortune, misfortune, regret, and humiliation are determined in a brief moment. Therefore, those who practice the Dao must be watchful over themselves when alone in their minds, guarding against subtle inclinations and considering beginnings, taking ultimate principle as their rampart and moat. They constantly take hold of the fundamental to control the peripheral, and do not lightly give rise to mental thoughts merely because the matter has not yet manifested in corporeal form. Is it only that 'words uttered in one's chamber are responded to from a thousand miles away,' and 'nothing is more visible than what is hidden,' so that what one must be cautious of is merely corporeal form?

13.14

A variant translation of the Shi'ermen jing says: 'When someone has good qualities, one should always conceal them; when they have faults, one ought to make them manifest.' The mind of a noble person is without predetermined bias or aversion; when they err without remorse, they naturally feel discontented with themselves. It is proper that they entrust their action or concealment to whatever they encounter; how could they have a deliberate intention regarding what is hidden or manifest? If so, does the application of such teaching lie in common proximity? In tracing the heavenly principle regarding sin and blessing: when leaked outward it becomes lighter, but when knotted within it becomes heavier. Once its traces are made manifest in human affairs, it must detract from the unseen response. Moreover, boasting of one's goodness and flaunting one's merits is a universal disposition of living beings; concealing wrongs and glossing over faults is common to all creatures. When good is manifested, its traces are made evident; when traces are made evident, praise gathers. If one's affections are tied to discouragement and encouragement while praise gathers externally, a harboring and begrudging mind will inevitably fill within. Furthermore, the noble person among humans is still a petty person in the eyes of Heaven; how much more so when benevolent virtue has not yet been attained while one's fame exceeds reality! Incurring transgression in the unseen realm is indeed inevitable. If one is not possessed of complete virtue, there must be deficiencies; if one is open and makes them public, they will dissipate along with the deed. But if a mind that turns its back on principle is inscribed upon one's breast, while one externally cultivates manners and appearances to avoid human blame and gather secular praise, greatly deceiving heavenly principle, how could the naturally accruing offense not become ever heavier? Therefore Zhuangzi said: 'If one does what is not good in the dark and hidden, the ghosts and spirits will punish them.' Furthermore, human disposition is not ashamed before principle, but ashamed before other beings. When a fault is manifest, censure arrives; when censure arrives, shame is born. When one's disposition looks to immediate recovery, defects will not accumulate; but if one relies on their not being manifest, one will never reform. In addition, when heavenly offense is filled within while one fears its outward manifestation, unseen anxieties arise in myriad ways, and artful defenses become ever more tight. Throughout one's life, all that is cherished is this alone; heavenly disasters and worldly entanglements must eventually gather all at once. This is entirely caused by failing to guard against sprouts and consider beginnings, and by concealing wrongs while flaunting good deeds.

13.15

The Zhengzhai jing says: 'One may only speak of a person's hundred virtues, and must not speak of a person's single fault. When one speaks of a person's virtues, a good mind immediately arises; when one speaks of a person's faults, resentful thoughts at once arise. Though the intention is subtle at the start, they gradually nourish and accumulate one another. Therefore, one good produces millions of goods, and one evil produces millions of evils.' The ancients said: 'The rise of military houses does not exceed three generations.' Chen Ping also said: 'I have engaged in many secret plots; my descendants will not prosper.' Adducing these as teachings is truly sufficient to have broad effect. However, Qi and Chu enjoyed surviving lineages for accumulated generations, while Yan Hui and Ran Geng had no manifest retribution among their descendants. Since this has already been made manifest through the evidence of events, one does not need to infer principle before it becomes clear. Furthermore, when Gun was executed, Yu arose; Pan and Fu had differing forms. The punishment of the four criminals did not extend to their kin, which is a universal canon across a hundred generations. When wise kings governed the world, there were still no excessive and indiscriminate penalties; how much less so with the natural, profound response that is without personal bias! To have sin and blessing received haphazardly and good and evil devoid of clear rules would be a profound deception of principle. Moreover, even the Qin law of enslaving wives and children still took the offender as primary; the primary offender suffered the punishment, and only then was culpability extended to the rest. If the offense did not fall upon one's own body while the disaster extended to one's relatives, enacting laws in this way is not only something that the sacred canons would not tolerate, but is also something that Shen Buhai and Han Feizi would certainly have rejected. Therefore the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: 'If the father does what is unwholesome, the son does not receive it in his stead; if the son does what is unwholesome, the father does not receive it either. The good naturally obtains blessings, and the evil naturally receives disaster.' Utterly perfect are these words, which accord with the mind and correspond to principle! Yet, in tracing the emergence of worldly teachings, is it not because the objects of emotional concern do not stop with oneself? The broader the reach, the deeper the warning and fear. For this reason, ultimate truths are concealed within the chest, and they consistently draw on what is close at hand to restrain the coarse. In advancing, this does no harm to chastening and encouraging, while being suited to worldly expediency. Those of thoughtful disposition should set aside the outer events, comprehend the deep, and grasp the subtle meaning. If one clings to the literal text without understanding its expedient transformations, sacrificing oneself to the teaching without grasping its intent, and uses this to establish one's mind and follow principle, would that not be missing the mark?

13.16

Now, the response of sin and blessing to adversity and conformity must certainly correspond without error. If one is benighted regarding this Dao, then heterodoxy and orthodoxy will have no fixed place, and the mind will have no standard to rely upon. As for examining them in the span of a single lifetime, the evidence is diffuse and verifiable tokens are few; principle has no transgression or divergence, yet events are not consistently manifest. How could one not attribute this to past karma and project it to future lifetimes? Therefore, those who have set their minds upon principle discern that the connection of shadow and echo cannot be deceived; discarding worldly proofs, they rest their trust in the unseen. Understanding that the Net of Heaven is vast and wide, they are confident that nothing will slip through. Realizing that the wheel of transmigration is uninterrupted, they blend ten thousand kalpas into a single morning, encompass the three times in profound identity, and hold firm to the certainty of their eventual arrival. How could they alter their minds because of what is manifest or hidden, or reform their thoughts due to what is delayed or swift? This is the very foundation of initial faith, reaching its culmination, and the deep expectation of the karmic mind.

13.17

The Shi'ermen jing says: 'If at times you calculate yourself, thinking, "I am handsome and fine," you should immediately reflect: "Within this body there is nothing at all, only liver, intestines, stomach, lungs, bones, blood, feces, and urine. What kind of fine thing is there?" Furthermore, observe inside the bodies of others; the foul impurities are all like this. If a thought of stinginess and greed arises, one should reflect: "Material goods and precious treasures are not brought along at birth, nor do they accompany one at death. Shifting and transforming, they can hardly be preserved from morning to evening. The body does not endure for long, and things have no constant master. One ought to take advantage of one's present years to bestow kindness and practice charity, relieving the destitute with wealth and saving the sick with medicine, joyfully devoting oneself throughout the day to aiding and succoring them." If a thought of anger and resentment arises, one should deeply give rise to equanimity and concurrently uphold the ten precepts.' Chamo Jie said: 'Among the practices of a bodhisattva, forbearance is paramount. If someone scolds and insults you, be silent and do not retaliate. If someone strikes and beats you, accept it and do not contest. If someone is angry, face them with a mind of loving-kindness. If someone slanders you, do not harbor their evil.' The Dharmapada also says: 'Receive insult with a mind like the earth; practice forbearance like a threshold.' As for the earth and the threshold, they are taken as metaphors for harboring dirt, taking in filth, and enduring treading all day long. The Chengju jing says: 'When another inflicts the four faults upon oneself, one realizes the errors of the mouth; one should respond to them with wholesome words and harmonious speech, in utmost sincerity and without embellishment.' The four faults are the aforementioned double-tongued speech, harsh speech, false speech, and frivolous speech. When another approaches with evil and I respond with good, if the mind is not wood or stone, by principle there is nothing that cannot be moved. The only worry is that one's handling of it is not constant and one's broad-mindedness does not accumulate. If one can contemplate forbearance in every matter, regrets and humiliations will dissipate in the present life, and retribution in blessing will become manifest in the future.

13.18

The Xianzhe de jing says: 'What makes one's own heart uneasy is never inflicted upon other beings.' Speaking in proximate terms, this is the way of loyalty and reciprocity; extending it to the utmost, it is the principle of the four immeasurables. What are the four immeasurables? Loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and protective equanimity. What is meant by loving-kindness? Feeling pity for sentient beings, equalizing self and others, extending oneself to forgive others, wishing to make all universally secure, and letting love reach even insects without distinction in feeling. What is meant by compassion? Universally loving and rescuing all, shedding tears with a grieving heart, requiring that real efficacy be secretly manifested and not merely possessing a benevolent intention. What is meant by sympathetic joy? Being delighted, gentle, and giving without regret. What is meant by loving protection? Skillfully rescuing according to expedients in response to every category, serving as a bridge and ford to connect all, and striving to preserve broad salvation. Being able to practice the four immeasurables makes one most venerated in the three realms. However, if one has not yet merged the mind into the signless, then wherever there are conditioned measures, they must eventually end. Therefore the Benqi jing says: 'Although the devas are joyful, when their merit is exhausted they also perish. At the height of nobility in the heavenly realm, the gateway stands opposite hell.' The Chengju jing also says: 'Blessings contain suffering; they have exhaustion, toil, and transmigration.' The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: 'The five destinies have no security; only non-action is joyful.' A sūtra states that those who practice the Dao should first abandon the eight worldly conditions: gain, loss, defamation, fame, praise, blame, suffering, and pleasure. Hearing good, they do not rejoice; hearing evil, they do not fear. Their faithful mind is as firm as heaven; discouragement and encouragement cannot move their will. Burying their roots within, external things cannot disturb their thoughts. Furthermore, what one encounters in the present life must be due to past karma. The profound workings of past karma are as trustworthy as the four seasons; their arrival cannot be warded off, and their departure cannot be stopped. One should certainly comply with them and find peace in them, joyfully completing them, diligently increasing one's practice of the Dao and aspiring toward forgetting the mind. Only when the retribution of corporeal form has been cast aside will one obtain great peace. Principle is rooted in the mind, while retribution is manifest in events, just as when a form is upright the shadow is straight, and when a sound is harmonious the echo is smooth. This is the natural, profound response; who could be intentionally manufacturing it? Thus, to harmonize the mind with the spiritual Dao, one should properly expect it through penetrating principle, striving to abide in the distant and vast void, rectifying oneself without hoping for external aid; one must not approach it with base profanity or seek it out of emotional desire. This is the key to settling the mind, which practitioners ought to reflect upon. Some might say that mental thoughts will surely receive retribution, in principle identical to shadow and echo, so one need only seek within oneself, and certainly have no concern with the unseen realm. Yet, in tracing the establishment of the sūtra teachings, they were precisely the means to awaken those seeking within themselves. However, as for the method of seeking within oneself, without the teaching one could not awaken to it. Awakening relies on the teaching, so its merit originates from the spiritual Dao. When joy and gratitude arise within, they must manifest in deeds, just as when singing is not enough, it is accompanied by dancing with the hands. If so, venerating and honoring it is something that in principle may not be strictly necessary, but which human feelings cannot dispense with. One should give free rein to deeply experiencing the tenets of the teaching, forgetting self-conscious thoughts in joyful contemplation, using oneself to guide other beings and aligning oneself with the multitude, thereby consolidating the aspirations of beginners and providing their feelings with something to rely upon.

13.19

A sūtra states: 'The suffering of birth, the suffering of old age, the suffering of illness, the suffering of death, the suffering of association with what is hated, the suffering of separation from what is loved, and the suffering of not getting what one seeks.' Encountering these various sufferings, one ought to deeply contemplate causal retribution and concurrently become aware of the deceptions of Māra. Broaden [the mind] through comprehensive vision, and expand it through an impartial heart. Furthermore, a petty single lifetime is like a horse passing a crevice; though what one encounters may differ, in the end all return to withered decay. Gain, loss, little, or much are certainly not worth calculating. Encompassing them within these several paths, this mind will naturally cease. Moreover, if one has not yet entered the Dao, joy and sorrow alternate, and assembly, dispersal, departure, and arrival are shared alike by the wise and the foolish. Therefore a sūtra states: 'In security there is danger; in gain there is loss; in gathering there is separation; in life there is death.' These are indeed the constant norms of nature and the predetermined times that must arrive. Extending this understanding and resting content with it, there is nowhere one goes that will not be level and serene.

13.20

Vimalakīrti said: 'All dharmas arise as forms from settled intent.' Thus the omen stirs at the inception and the event responds at the end; when a thought arises there is [existence], and when ideation ceases there is non-existence. Where the intent is at peace, whatever it encounters is smoothed away; where the passions are obstructed, wherever one goes there is stagnation. Speaking from this, the source of flow and stagnation lies in oneself, not in things. If fear is born in the mind, vulnerabilities are seized upon from without. Once external vulnerabilities are seized upon, internal fear knots ever tighter; if one merely dreads losing something, there is nowhere [this dread] will not reach. Hence the scripture states that when a gentleman fears, non-human beings take advantage of him. If one can truly abide the mind in principle and make the heavenly bolt firm within, then neither humans nor ghosts can find an opening, and karmic retributions will naturally cease. The ten thousand existences will have no means to entangle him; the host of evils will be unable to strike him.

13.21

The four non-eternals: first, impermanence; second, suffering; third, emptiness; fourth, non-self. The forms of youth and age differ; hills and valleys shift their places—this is called impermanence. Prosperity and decline follow one another; at the height of joy there is inevitable sorrow—this is called suffering. All ten thousand existences ultimately return to nothingness—this is called emptiness. The spirit has no constant dwelling; its transformations never cease—this is called non-self. The scripture states that when dwelling in a place of delight, one realizes it is the counterpart of inevitable suffering. This traces the alternation of cyclical recurrence, discerning that when pleasure departs, sorrow arrives. Therefore, dwelling in security, one ponders danger; in the evening, one remains watchful of glorious sights. As for one who goes deep into suffering, he is said to have seen the truths. Realizing that having a mind brings stagnation, and stagnation brings the persistence of suffering, even if one's nobility reaches the pinnacle of humans and devas and one's station combines the highest honours, the heavier one's burden, the deeper one's pride and attachment. What passion delights in is, in truth, all the more bitter. Therefore the scripture says: 'The three realms are entirely suffering; there is nothing pleasurable.' It also says: 'The sentient beings of the five destinies dwell together in one great prison.' If the mind is bound to existence, then sin and blessing are linked together; therefore the three realms are collectively called a great prison. The Buddha asked his disciples: 'What is impermanence?' One said: 'A single day cannot be guaranteed; that it cannot be guaranteed is impermanence.' The Buddha said: 'You are not a disciple of the Buddha.' Another said: 'The duration of a meal cannot be guaranteed; this is impermanence.' The Buddha said: 'You are not a disciple of the Buddha.' Another said: 'An outgoing breath not returning, one immediately enters the next life; this is impermanence.' The Buddha said: 'You are truly a disciple of the Buddha.' Now, the clear evidence of impermanence is laid out daily before us, yet across ten thousand generations, all return to it and none awaken to it. Lacking the security of an instant, they make plans for eternal ages; because fear is not felt at the juncture, in every matter they grow slack and lazy. Using this to advance in virtue, their effort lacks the final basket of earth; using this to govern the mind, they grow indolent in their practice. Therefore, a person of the Dao points to the inch of shadow and laments its passing, always spurring himself on from behind the whip, his enterprise competing with the hours. Considering the day insufficient, confused thoughts find no cause to arise, and karmic retribution has no ground from which to spring.

13.22

The six perfections: first, giving; second, morality; third, forbearance; fourth, vigour; fifth, single-mindedness; sixth, wisdom. To accumulate and be able to disperse, nourishing and saving sentient beings—this is giving. To guard the ten wholesome actions carefully, warding off depravity with sincerity—this is morality. To be wronged without retaliating, always excelling at humbling oneself—this is forbearance. To diligently practise what one has studied, tireless day and night—this is vigour. To concentrate the mind and guard intent, restraining the multitude [of thoughts] with brevity—this is single-mindedness. Practising these five matters with an intentional mind is called the worldly perfections; directing them with dual forgetting is called the wisdom of the Dao. The Benqi jing says: 'The ninety-six kinds of Daoist arts each believe in what they serve and all delight in a peaceful life; who knows their delusion?' Delighting in gain and hating loss, rejoicing in survival and grieving at demise—these are the constant stagnations of being lost in youth, shared by all that is born. Yet the subtle power quietly ebbs away, not to be retained by earnest longing; when the retribution arrives, it responds—how could the functions of intellect restrain it? Therefore, the learner must dedicate his mind to the source of transformation and fathom the profound tenets. Savoring them and treasuring them, the host of thoughts will naturally fall away. Falling away, there is forgetting; forgetting, conditions are severed. Once karmic conditions are severed, one thereafter enters non-arising. No longer receiving birth, one can therefore never die. Hence the Puyao jing says: 'Arising from nowhere, there is nowhere it does not arise; among all that arises, nothing arises.' The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: 'When the mind and consciousness are serene and at rest, there is neither dying nor being born.' The mind is the root-seed; conduct is its soil; retribution is its fruition. Just like planting crops, each follows its kind, and when the season arrives it sprouts, impossible to check. If one plants the ten evils or the precepts and good deeds, the retribution of receiving rebirth is fully detailed in the preceding chapter. If, in addition, one plants dhyāna and the four formless attainments, one's nobility reaches the pinnacle of the heavenly path; the four formless attainments and dhyānas are fully set forth in numerous scriptures. From the first heaven to the twenty-eighth heaven, according to one's practices, one's blessings double and redouble. If one plants the non-ordinary dhyānas, all the truths turn away from existence and attach to non-existence, then one attains the nirvāṇa of an arhat. Not shunning the conditioned, not bound to the contemplation of emptiness, meeting principle and merging with it, without grasping and without reliance—this is to have no planting. Having nothing planted, one receives no retribution; vast and mysteriously unconditioned, this is the Buddha's nirvāṇa. Nirvāṇa is called 'non-action' in Chinese, and also called 'extinction and crossing over'. Vimalakīrti said: 'Those six masters teach reliance as the path. Those who follow these masters abide in views, fall into extremes, and enter the eight difficulties, unable to escape the path of birth and death.' Even if one repeatedly cultivates the profound mind, a tiny stirring of hesitation is still equal to those six masters, stagnating together in a single existence. How much more so for those who cling to life and lean on ideations, taking the retribution as a self to resist transformation! Though their blessings surpass mountains and rivers and their nobility reaches the pinnacle of the three realms, revolving in alternation of fortune and misfortune, they will ultimately fall into sin and suffering. How could they obtain the serene spirit of the Great Creator, placid and mysteriously leveled?

13.23

Whatever is born must have passions; the heavenly course brings them inevitably. If not determined toward good, one must be in evil. Therefore, one who begins to practise the Dao must certainly have a reliance. That upon which one relies must depend upon existence; what existence relies on must depend on vexations. Therefore the scripture says: 'If one wishes to build palaces and chambers in empty space, in the end one cannot succeed. Taking hold of a Buddha land is not done in emptiness.' Thus the five perfections and four immeasurables can never be abandoned. One should only engage their functional application while discarding resentful intentions. In taking refuge in the Buddha, there is no understanding separate from the Buddha; in taking refuge in the precepts, there is no merit separate from the precepts. Then dhyāna and the truths merge with the five aggregates; secondary functions exhaust together with primal contemplation. Though the host of practices are displayed together, it is truly walking in emptiness within emptiness. Some may think that if it is empty, there is no practice, and if there is practice, it is not empty—since there is something possessed, does one not lose emptiness? Emptiness is an appellation for forgetting ideation, not a term for an empty house. Non-existence is truly non-existence, but preserving non-existence stagnates in confinement; existence is truly existence, but forgetting both brings profound liberation. Thus existence and non-existence depend upon the square inch of the mind, and have no ties to external things. Though vessels and images are displayed in functional affairs, when resonance ceases, principle is profound. How could it be that one must extinguish existence before having non-existence, or step down in loss to reach the end? Speaking from this, existence is certainly not stagnation; stagnating in existence goes against the source. Turning back the current to return to the root, according with the basis, one flows freely of oneself. Therefore the bodhisattva practises deeply, unifying it all with a single thread, realizing that the ten thousand forms are ever profound. Riding whatever he lodges in, he is mysteriously at ease, grasping that the coming principle is primarily empty, and always attains it in the same realization. Awakening to the non-reflection of the four colours, he accords with the fundamental limit and together they cease. Discerning the naturalness of the manifold contemplations, therefore though he walks, he leaves no tracks. The profound scriptures of the Vaipulya always obliterate the three times, yet never say that the present is existent. Thus the purport of walking in emptiness within emptiness can be seen here.

13.24

Two Chapters of Courtyard Admonitions

13.25

By Yan Yanzhi, Master of Splendid Happiness

13.26

Those of penetrating insight agree on goodness, but their thorough discourses distinguish different subjects. First, speaking of the Dao; second, discussing the mind; third, examining principle. Speaking of the Dao takes its root in Heaven; discussing the mind debates it in humanity; examining principle derives it from things. Differentiating them accordingly, their paths are set forth in three; bringing them together in summary, their ultimate arrival can be one. As for the scriptures of profound spirit and the discourses of exhaustive clarity, their meanings embrace the three points and ultimately have no two extremes. Yet because their words emerged from barbarian regions, they are regarded with suspicion by secular scholars; because their events arose among a different folk, they meet with rejection from common sentiments. Heaven's bestowing of the Dao makes no distinction between barbarian and Chinese; how could humanity's endowment of spirit be limited to outer and inner? Reflecting upon it with this single thought, one can dispense with arbitrary conjectures.

13.27

Those who practise the Dao derive from the methods of immortals, and so take refining the corporeal form as supreme. Those who revere the Buddha are rooted in the teaching of the spirit, and so take governing the mind as primary. The school of refining the corporeal form must seek deep and wide wildernesses, eating flying spirits, grain-avoiding cinnabar minerals, and mushroom essences, in order to return youth and ward off old age, prolonging their bloom and retaining their colour. They wish to make the body unite with rosy clouds and trace their tracks across heaven and sea. This is their strength. When hypocrites practise it, they dread disasters and curses, assess taxes, vow to mingle men and women, and confuse evil with correctness—this is their great moth-pest. The art of governing the mind must part with kin and mate, shut off the body and nature, take the pure awakening as master, and believe in karmic conditions and destiny, in order to return to the oneness of non-arising and successfully achieve the sage enterprise, with wisdom transcending the great brightness and aspiration embracing countless kalpas. This is what makes it precious. When deceivers practise it, they take advantage of their tonsure, become familiar with the elite, cling to glorious fame, and scheme for profit and debate—this is their grave falsehood. Things may not be so, but matters do not end in defect; even when weights and balances are displayed daily, one still worries about discrepancies, how much more so for the spiritual Dao, which is formless and naturally borrowed by manifold pretexts! Those who cannot embody the spirit yet do not doubt that the spirit is non-existent consider that the spiritual nature is subtle and hidden, knowable through accumulated principle; and that vast transformations, fleeting and indistinct, can be awaited through great accord. Shining like a mirror of heaven, quiet as peering into an abyss, one who can act as a person through principle and accord may be spoken with of the existence of the spirit. As for ignoring its truth and blaming its defects, that is merely failing to apply the illumination of the mind.

13.28

Sun Candle

13.29

Wang Gai

13.30

Inquiring into the scriptures of the Ultimate Dao, they give vent to the source of birth and death, indicate the retributions of good and evil, and open the ferry for transcending transformation. Their admonitions are clear and comprehensive in every detail. Yet faithful words are not pleasing; the text is bound by expansive phrasing, piled in darkness and cut off in obscurity, separated by surges of layered depths. Therefore, scholars have not found its gate, or have not paid it heed. I venture to gather the distant tones of the Xianchi and adapt them into the near melodies of the village lanes, using the small to reach the great, hoping it may engage the worldly; helping Heaven spread its light, it is titled the 'Sun Candle'.

13.31

Moulding the grand proclamations of the early awakened ones, / I open the profound key at the numinous gate. / Wandering through the Great Void to gaze abroad, / I explore the vast expanse without bounds. / Treading the earthly terrain of the square board, / Capped by the circular heaven of the overturned basin. / Far off stretches the expanse of the three realms, / In which the two breaths mingle in mist. / Tracing the profound root of the Great Creator, / I fathom the dark origin of transformation and nurture. / The corporeal form relies on the four great elements and disperses like foam; / The spirit is marvelous beyond the ten thousand things and endures forever. / Those good people who penetrate their allotted span / Grieve for life and gladden the soul.

13.32

Now, the spirit of breathing beings has no fixed spatial bound, and the bodily substance of writhing creatures knows no constancy. They lodge like the surging of water; they rely [on forms] like the flickering of a flame. Following their deeds entangled, they alternate between withering and flourishing; coming and going, surfacing and plunging, in darkness and vast confusion. The great ocean swirls around; the great transformation revolves. Drifting far upon the waves, by what ladder shall they cross over? Tossing and turning within the three bad destinies, mired and detained within the ring of the eight difficulties, one pities the lack of any appointed time for their aspiration to emerge, and laments that their corporeal forms must have their return [to dust]. One observes that the accumulation of virtue can be swift, and perceives that the amassing of misfortune ought to be forestalled. These achievements of undertakings are easy to witness; it is not that the subtle stirrings were seen beforehand. The five blessings arise from treading the right; the six extremities are constructed by treading the wrong. The principle responds naturally; the dark retribution condenses in the unseen. Who creates good fortune? Whence does misfortune arise? The movement of water gathers in the low; the Way of humanity abhors pride. Faults accumulate through abundance; blessings ascend by reason of modesty. When a child is upright, ghosts retreat; when a grown man is perverse, spectres oppress him. Reviewing the twin pairs of forms and sounds, examining the dual portents of good and ill fortune: the principle accords with thought and joins in unison; traces meet the gaze and correspond with one another. It is like a revolving circle embracing the compass, or a straight rafter adhering to the carpenter's line. The gray dog came forth from the imperial father; the yellow bear was lamented by the sage son. When transformations are thus summoned, none can be saved; how could heavenly kin be relied upon? Truly, seeking fortune depends on one's own person; surely, acting as a human being lies within oneself! Alas, rapid inhalations are inconstant; who knows where the swift departure will halt? Those abnormal beings in their precarious states—how could they have begun without breath? One grieves that the graceful and lovely should die untimely, only to return and take birth as a domestic pig! In former days nurtured and held in the bosom, now butchered and disembowelled to serve as an offering. The spirit abides in the wondrous and remains ever the self; the body undergoes transformation and changes its form. Before ten days have passed, they have forgotten each other; this truly warrants a long sigh and the shedding of tears! For all unenlightened fools are like this; it is not that this person alone is so. Observe how sparse are births among the noble kinds, and realize how prolific are offspring among the insects and vermin! As a metaphor, falling showers are still rare compared to the emptying of a sack and pouring out of rice. Making a clamour day by day, who recognizes latent [misfortune] or understands the leaning [nature of fortune]? It is not that my own mind could fathom it; erroneously I have heard it to be thus. As for the inverted race, they live in vain in darkness and ignorance. Once the winds of death arrive, suddenly they make their hidden journey. Though the way of the spirits is obscure, the law of ghosts is exceedingly clear: wandering through the intermediate state, they proceed to that iron fortress. The night is devoid of the moon; the day has no shining sun. Their bodies enter cages of pressed thorns; their feet tread courtyards of blazing coals. Mountain peaks of knives bristle with frost-sharp blades; forests of swords raise their points, whistling with eerie essences. Melted copper spreads vastly, surging like a sea; gigantic cauldrons boil with waves, roaring like thunder. King Yama inspects the records, while minions beside him grasp pitchforks. Three thrusts and a single heave, hundreds and thousands are netted together! Poisonous birds with sharp beaks, blazing fire-carts, sharp nails and piercing lances, cunning hounds with clenched teeth! Licentious fellows are scorched against illusory pillars; starving prisoners wither away in dust and sand. Endowed with a light and wondrous spiritual substance, the painful punishments are all the more easily inflicted upon them. Forever aggrieved through entire kalpas, how could such cruelty be endured? The three-and-six strict nets cannot be listed in detail; thousands of severe ordeals, myriad varieties of diverse sufferings. Not a breath is drawn without undergoing them; in an instant they arrive, forgetting all shelter. Were I to speak of it briefly for a single morning, it would shock and distress one for a whole year! Now, there are those whose five virtues are without blemish, whose ten goodnesses complete the Way: when the evening sun departs and they pass away, their felicity ascends to the nine heavens. Precious palaces gleam brilliantly, elevated structures suspended in the void. Chambers of jasper number hundreds; gates of jade touch thousands. Golden portals are radiant with the clarity of crystal; jade avenues shine with the freshness of lapis lazuli. Jewel trees line the roadside; phoenixes sing among the branches. Fragrant blossoms are spiritually exquisite and brilliantly ornate; sweet-scented winds float wondrously, swirling like mist. Merely thinking of garments, patterned robes drape the body; merely contemplating food, fragrant delicacies fill the front. There, Xihe journeys far, an eternity where a single day lasts ten thousand years! Free from worldly affairs to disturb their nature, they are ever leisurely within the natural. Radiating amidst sparkling luminous buds, soaring lightly and fluttering on high, they plumb the supreme joy of wondrous music, and exhaust the far-reaching span of living existence. Forsaking the vile world, they cross over above, companions to those exalted in transcendent flight. However, though they enjoy these past virtues and daily consume jade-like foods, that land is not fertile and yields no sowing or reaping. Though accumulated stores be vast, how could they not be exhausted? Though their lifespan and blessings be extended, in the end they return to destruction. When the three disasters arise, their palaces disperse; when the seven omens arrive, their heavenly stipends are cut off. Meeting the great autumn when all decays, they are mingled without distinction, like the long-lived chun tree and the morning fungus. Therefore, the Tathāgata, the Great Sage, thoroughly illuminates with the three knowledges. Pitying our troubled ignorance, he clarifies the essentials of the Way. His skillful means are unconstrained, sometimes coarse, sometimes subtle: like the flowing currents of the vast ocean, like the suspended radiance of the heavenly sun. Superior gentlemen empty their minds and forget his words; those of middling talent hold fast to his teachings with steadfast intent. The teachings have no fixed method, but adapt to that by which things proceed: suitable for land, a carriage; fitting for water, a boat. Expounded in great variety, the broad arts are boundless. Even if the three hundred odes have not covered it, the essential point lies in the single obscurity. Digging out the main cords of the accumulated mysteries, discarding the trivial hairs and eyes from the fragrant robes, his grand basket of great instructions unfolds our portion of wisdom. In his governance nothing is unequal; substances have the sharp and the dull. Going empty and returning full, each is satisfied in his own mind. The foolish and the clever are both guided; dragons and ghosts are alike transformed. Myriad paths converge together, all proceeding from prajñā. Like crossing the ocean, without a boat none can traverse it; driving the myriad stirrings to the bodhimaṇḍa, all ends in non-action and halts the carriage. Originally, the beginning of the three vehicles shared a single return to nothingness; but their talents and insights differ, leading to diverse applications. The Arhat forgets being to seek emptiness, and thus indulges in emptiness, tranquil and content. The Pratyekabuddha clearly understands the entanglement of subtle knowledge, and thereupon moves toward the mysterious without dwelling. Although their wondrous traces are twice lost, they still have what is renounced without being empty. The Bodhisattva understands things to their total exhaustion: when non-existence is realized, what remains to be eliminated? Their awakening opens wide before all perception; their essence merges in the primal intent. The principle is deeply profound and beyond resonance; who can comprehend it and make it their task? From ancient times, early peoples had their encounters: dignified and sheltered, they personally received the sage's instructions. Murmuring crowds of common folk looked up with ears and eyes intent: some had their blindness opened at a single cough; some changed their faces at a single meal. All were transformed by means of words; there was none who was not ferried across. From the Sugata until now, the fortune of the Way has progressively declined. Though the great teaching remains, those who relish it are few. Sandalwood and marsh celery share the same fragrance; the night-shining pearl shares its glow with the firefly. Master Yu transcended the world, synthesizing the essence of the mysterious purport; retiring happily to mountains and marshes, his benevolence moved tigers and wild beasts. Venerable Dharmarakṣa realized tranquility, his moral power deep and beautiful; humming softly in the vaulted valley, dried springs gradually brought forth water. Old Que ascended to the firmament; Weidu followed in his tracks. All were detached in the unarisen; all cast off their skeletons without dying. Now there is Master Zhi, exceptionally preeminent, grasping the mysterious standard. His great undertaking surges from the press; his spiritual breeze is pure and solemn. Once a word is uttered, stagnations are dispelled; when the three turns are displayed, the deep darkness is illumined. To see him suffices to wash away meanness and stinginess; to hear him can cast down pride and arrogance. Yielding and washing in the stream with easy accord, chanting of fulfilling his original intent at the eastern field. How deep his relish in resting in simplicity, looking upon the great jewel as lighter than an autumn hair! Wherever the wind of the Way fans and sweeps, there the deeply perceptive wander at ease. If talent were not difficult, the worthy would not be valued; if fools did not laugh, the sage would not be exalted. A distant sound is seen as base to near ears; who can forget the taste upon hearing the Shao music? Where does one go that is not the Way? What is there that lacks spirit? Principles have the refined and the coarse; things have the worthy and the true. The great dwells as the ruler of the minute; the small serves as the minister to the great. The feathered tribes are subject to the garuḍa; the armored kinds belong to the asura. The two forces take the Great Ultimate as their ancestor; the host of stars is tied to the Northern Star. Therefore, the ninety-six kinds branch out profusely; tossing aside the heavy root, their restlessness abandons the quiet king. All claim to equal the sage, each dominating a quarter: some move mountains and halt rivers, or vanish and appear in an instant; commanding heavenly robes of brilliant splendor, whistling forth fragrant delicacies from divine kitchens; displaying the ferocious violence of rallying armies, or transforming gravel into fine jade. Exhausting bizarre marvels of mutation and illusion, it is pitiable that dependent things have no permanence! These are merely the sweet wine within worldly measures, not equal to the dregs and chaff of the Utmost Way. Coming to the ranks of the immortals, the peers of refined forms: stretching like bears and craning like birds, exhaling and inhaling the Great Unity; in the evening dining on shaded mists and the white moon, in the morning drinking solar vapors and the vermilion sun. Chifu attained long life by ingesting cinnabar; Juanzi took wing by feeding on atractylodis. Anqi gained prolonged sight through pine needles; the man of Feng soared lightly on cypress seeds. That which their harmonized fluids deepened sufficed to sustain their years and maintain their substance; but within they were not pacified while outwardly they were unsteady, so they mounted the clouds in vain only to fall and die suddenly! All tied up their sacks to solidify their shells; truly they came forth from the same gate together. Their principle has not ascended to the hall of Yan Hui; forever their hopes are barred from the chamber of Confucius! If being able to fly is prized, then moths and butterflies soar high; if resistance to aging is deemed marvelous, then tortoises and snakes enjoy long years. As for the wandering breath of this lodging house: only the mystery of the mind is to be treasured! Those who preserve the form are not fit to discuss the spirit; those who are intimate with the vulgar cannot yet be spoken to concerning the Way. How can the Way be spoken of? There is no questioning and no answering. The questioner knocks upon exhaustion; the replier betrays what is within. Silent, one penetrates it; speaking, one is depleted. One should match with the Mysterious Pearl and discourse on the Way; I become Wangxiang and the Ineffable. Motionless and tranquil, the mysterious response holds an admonition. Those who dig into floating appearances never comprehend the dark sound. The more one listens for it, the more one is mistaken; the more one searches for it, the deeper it sinks. The man of Ying has passed away; for whom should the axeman wield his block? Setting the fishtrap and the snare in the deep pool and marsh, awaiting the fish and hare in the rivers and woods: if perchance one grasps the meaning beyond words, together a single glance will dispel all calculation. There is no movement without an instant: once gone, it returns. For the worthy and perceptive who stand with forbearance, it is suddenly like passing a single night. A thousand teachers are born to transform beings, beginning past the sixteen. Maitreya is now prospering, and we look up hoping for his benevolent nurture. Who says the reckoning is distant? It is a fleeting glance of the eye. Though the spiritual chariot is swift, the pivot of conditions is inexhaustible. That has neither root nor summit; we have a beginning and an end. Borrowing footsteps at the tip of blazing lightning, lodging our breath in the midst of a gale of stones: we recognize the perilous road and take fright at bandits, yet are confused by worldly desires that invite conflict. Forsaking distant excellence, we covet what is near; deeming restraint to be meager, we plunge into abundance. Failing to guard against withering before the wind blows, once we are scattered by the fierce gale, we yearn to return to the stem and blossom anew—what can myriad regrets avail to make amends? Therefore, those of great vows burn their fingers and bore through stone. In the dark anticipation there is no waiting; their resolve accumulates with their minds. Digging deep the moat of knowledge, raising high the wall of wisdom, drawing the spiritual sword, brandishing the halberd of precepts: as soon as thoughts sprout, they cut them down; as soon as feelings show signs, they prune and pierce them. Sweeping the six thieves from within the breast, resting from the long toil of the five destinies, folding one's hands in self-cultivation, one grasps dhāraṇī and Dharma-forbearance. The three times are entirely silenced; the single mind opens and exhausts all. Entrusting the ear, there is no sound; lodging the eye, there is no standard. Dust falls away with emptiness; defilement drops with the void. Vastly illuminated with spiritual awakening, one acts as a ruler by relying on skillful means. Universally delivering and peacefully ferrying across, who does Great Compassion not pity? Lodging in an inn to harmonize the light, ever wandering and abiding in the dark and indistinct, yielding to heavenly movement and material transformation, like treading upon water without a trace. As for wondrous transformations and marvelous marvels, the principle is inconceivable: the great chiliocosm is lifted on the palm of a hand; a mustard seed contains Sumeru; the four oceans lodge within a pore of hair; the seven treasures endure beyond the shifting of kalpas! It may be believed, but cannot be pursued; it may be followed, but cannot be known. It is not something that talk and song can express; how could brush and silk unfold it? How fine was the word of Udāyin! Suppose the wise filled all under heaven, and each person had a hundred heads, each head a hundred tongues, each tongue understanding a hundred principles, their eloquence sharp and unfettered: even if all these people united to praise the Way, it would not equal a ten-thousandth part! Only when the Awakened Ones praise one another is it fully expounded and made entirely manifest. How much more so for my ignorant and obstinate shallowness, relying on wild simplicity to look up and relate this: holding up the tiny glow of a firefly, wishing to add brilliance to aid the sun!

First 32 of 35 passages. Read on

Linked texts (1)

弘明集 — 僧祐, Classical Chinese