廣弘明集 14.23

14.23

或曰。聖人陳福以勸善。示禍以戒惡。小人謂善無益而不為。謂惡無傷而不去。然有殃有福之言。乃華而不實。無益無傷之論。則信而有徵。何以言之也。伯夷餒矣。啟期貧矣。顏回殀矣。冉耕疾矣。或侈侈隆富。言罕及於義方。或皤皤壽考。名不稱而歿世。仁而不壽富而未仁。書契已降不可勝紀。故知仲尼殃慶之言。徒欺人耳。文命影響之喻。殆難信乎。有敦善行而不怠者。嗟斯言之長惑焉。乃論而釋之曰。夫殃福蓋有其根。不可無因而妄致。善惡當收其報。必非失應而徒已。但根深而報遠。耳目之所不該。原始而究終。儒墨之所莫逮。故隨遭之命度於天而難詳。殀壽之年考於人而易惑。人之為賞罰也。尚能明察而不濫。天之降殃福也。豈反淆亂而無倫哉。故知有理存焉。不可誣矣。非夫大覺而遍知者。孰能窮理而除惑哉。卜商賈誼之為言。班彪季康之著論。但知混而謂之命。莫辯命之所以然。何異見黍稷於倉廩。而不知得之由稼穡。覩羅紈於篋笥。而未識成之以機杼。馬遷嗟報施之爽。積疑而莫之通。范滂惑善惡之宜。含憤而無以釋。皆覩流而弗尋源。見一而不知二。惟觀釋氏之經論。可以究其始終乎。為善為惡之報。窮枝派於千葉。一厚一薄之命。照根源于萬古。辯六趣之往來。示三世之殃福。乃知形歿而業無朽焉。人死而神又生焉。或賢聖而受宿殃。六通乏適口之。饍或禽獸而荷餘福。四足懷如意之寶。為業既非一緒。感報寔亦千變。業各異而隨心。報不同其如面。原其心也。或先迷而後復。或有初而無終。或惡恒而罔悔。或善粹而常崇。或為功而兼咎。或福微而慧隆。或罪均而情異。或功殊而志同。故其報也。有先號而後笑。有既得而患失。有少賤而卒凶。有始榮而終吉。有操潔而年殀。有行鄙而財溢。有同罪而殊刑。有齊德而異秩。業多端而交加。果遍酬而縷悉。譬如畫工布丹青之彩。鏡像應妍蚩之質。命招六印。達季子之遊談。業引萬金。果朱公之計術。取青紫如俯拾。有昔因之助焉。達禮樂而固窮。無宿福之資也。讀論者繼踵而張文獨享其榮。說詩者比肩而匡鼎偏高其位。或功勤可記而祿不及於介推。或咎隙當誅而爵先加於雍齒。韋賢經術遠勝黃金之遺。趙壹文籍。不如盈囊之錢。此豈功業之異哉。故由宿命之殊耳。或材小而任大。宰衡無赫赫之功。或道著而身微。孔墨有栖栖之辱。亦有德位俱顯。元凱列唐虞之朝。才命並隆。傅呂受鹽梅之寄。二因雙殖。則兼之也。如此。一業孤修。則其偏也若彼。管仲釋囚而登相。李斯為相而被刑。范睢先辱而後榮。鄧通始富而終餒。非初訥而末辯。豈昔愚而今智。由果熟而泰來。以福盡而屯及。若云敗伍胥者宰嚭也。非由昔殃。濟張倉者王陵也。何關往福。此為見緣而不知因。有斷見之咎矣。若云業縻好爵不念同昇之恩。命偶仁風。無愧來蘇之澤。此為知因而不識緣。有背恩之罪矣。若兼達其旨兩遣其累。進德修業豈有閡乎。春種嘉穀。方賴夏雨以繁滋。宿殖良因。乃藉今緣而起發。受膏澤而荒蕪不墾之地也。遇明時而貧賤無因之士也。因緣之旨具諸經論。觸途而長。皆此類焉。若唯見其一不會其二。咎累之萌傷其德矣。觀釋典之所明也。白黑之業。有必定之與不定。禍福之報。有可轉及於無轉。為德為咎。唯禳可轉之業。若賢若愚。無移必定之命。夫大善積而災銷。眾惡盈而福滅。理之必然信而不貳。譬如藥石勝而疾除。水雨注而焚息。巨堤之堰涓流。蕭斧之伐朝菌。但疾處膏肓。良藥有所不救。火炎原隰。滴水固其無解。鄧林之木非隻刃而可盡。長江之流豈一塊之能塞。大德可以掩微瑕。微功不足補大咎。鐫金石者難為功。摧枯朽者易為力。其業微者報不堅。其行堅者果必定。不堅故可轉。必定則難移。可轉之難。故三唱息巨海之波。難移之厄。則四果遇兇人之害。劉琨小賢。致反風而滅火。唐堯大聖。遭洪水之襄陵。准此而論。未足惑矣。晉文增德。殄長蛇於路隅。宋景興言。退妖星於天際。此不定之業也。邾文輕己而利民。有德而無應。楚昭引災而讓福。言善而身凶。乃必定之命也。或同惡而殊感。或善均而報異。皆昔因之所致也。何足怪之於一生哉。孔子曰。小人不知天命而不畏。又曰。不知命無以為君子。佛之所云業也。儒之所謂命也。蓋言殊而理會。可得而同論焉。命繫於業。業起於人。人稟命以窮通。命隨業而厚薄。厚薄之命莫非由己。怨天尤上不亦謬乎。詩云。下民之孽。匪降自天。傳曰。禍福無門。惟人所召。此云。天之不可推而責之於人矣。孟軻干魯。不憾臧倉之蔽。仲由仕季。無恚伯寮之讒。則謂人之不可責而推之於天矣。其言若及其致匪殊。要而論之。同歸進德。剋己戒人。以勗乾乾之志。樂天知命。蠲其慼慼之尤。夫然故內勤克命之功。外弘不爭之德。上無怨天之咎。下絕尤人之累。行之中和。於是乎在。古之善為道者。其從事於斯乎。昔者初聞釋典信之不篤。拘其耳目之間。疑於視聽之外。謂前因後果之說。等莊周之寓言。天上地下之談。類相如之烏有。覩姦回之漏網。則為非而不懲。聞忠直之逢尤。則輕善而無勸。甚哉此惑也。知業則不然。夫達業之君子無私而委命。仰聖賢之清德。敦金玉之高行。無悶于陋巷之居。忘懷於名利之競。所以畢既往之餘業。啟將來之長慶。不顧流俗之嗤毀。豈求鄉曲之稱詠哉。夫種殖不見其長。有時而大砥礪。莫覩其虧。終銷厥厚。今形善惡之報。為時近而未熟。昔世吉凶之果。須數終而乃謝。譬如稼穡作甘。不朝種而夕稔。蒺䔧為刺。亦春生而秋實。不耕而飽飫者。因昔歲之餘穀。不賢而富壽者。荷前身之舊福。天道無親疎。人業有盈縮。由斯以推天命。可得除疑惑矣。若夫虞夏商周之典。黃老孔墨之言。道惟施於一生。言罔及於三世。則可惑者有六焉。無辭以通之矣。示為善之利。謂爵賞及名譽。陳為惡之害。明恥辱與刑罰。然逃賞晦名之士。以何為利乎。苟免無恥之夫。不受其害矣。何足以為懲勸哉。可惑者一也。云天與善降之以百祥。謂神糺淫加之以六極。然伯牛德行而有疾。天豈惡其為善乎。盜蹠凶暴而無殀。神豈善其為惡乎。何禍福之濫及哉。可惑者二也。若云罪隨形而竝滅。功與身而共朽。善何慶之可論。惡何殃而當戒。若善惡之報。信有而非無也。食山薇以飢死。何處而加之福。膾人肝而壽終。何時而受其禍。何善惡之無報哉。可惑者三也。若云禍福由其祖禰。殃慶延於子孫。考之於前載。不必皆然矣。伯宗羊肹之嗣。絕滅於晉朝。慶父叔牙之後。繁昌於魯國。豈祖禰之由乎。可惑者四也。若云觀善察惡。時有謬於上天。故使降福流災遂無均於下土。然天之明命寧當闇於賞罰乎。曾謂天道不如王者之制乎。可惑者五也。若云禍福非人所召。善惡無報於後。而百王賞善而刑淫。六經褒德而貶過。則為虛勸於不益妄戒於無損。何貴孔丘之弘教。何咎羸正之焚書乎。可惑者六也。然則善惡之所感致。禍福之所倚伏。惟限之於一生。不通之以三世。其理局而不弘矣。何以辯人之惑乎。防於惡也未盡。導於善也多闕。其取義也尚淺。其利民也猶微。比夫十力深言三乘妙法。濟四生于火宅。運六舟於苦海。高下之相懸也。若培塿之與崑崙。淺深之不類也。匹潢污之與江漢。何可同年而語哉。昔維摩詰之明達。及舍利弗之聰辯。經論詳之。可得而挍。足以逾項託超孔丘。邁李老越許由。伏墨翟摧莊周。吞百氏該九流。書籍所載莫之與儔。然受諸異道不毀正信。雖明世典常樂佛法。師事釋迦伏膺善誘。豈不識道勝而鑽仰之乎。

Someone said: "Sages set forth blessings to encourage goodness and show misfortunes to warn against evil. Petty people say that goodness brings no benefit and so do not practice it; they say that evil brings no harm and so do not abandon it. Yet words about disaster and blessing are flowery but lacking substance, whereas the discourse that there is no benefit and no harm is trustworthy and verified by proof. Why do I say this? Boyi starved; Rong Qiqi was poor; Yan Hui died young; Ran Geng fell ill. On the other hand, some are lavishly and grandly wealthy, their words rarely touching upon righteousness; some have white hair and live to a ripe old age, though their names are unworthy of praise when they depart this life. Those who are benevolent are not long-lived, and those who are wealthy are not yet benevolent—since the invention of writing, such cases cannot be fully recorded. Therefore we know that Confucius's words about disaster and celebration merely deceive people, and Yu's metaphor of shadows and echoes can hardly be believed!"

One who diligently pursued good deeds without flagging lamented that such words would perpetuate delusion; thus he wrote an essay to explain, saying:

Disaster and blessing certainly have their roots; they cannot be incurred at random without a cause. Good and evil must reap their recompense; it is surely not that retribution fails and ends in vain. Yet the roots are deep and the retribution lies far off, beyond the reach of ear and eye; investigating the beginnings and plumbing the ends lies beyond the capacity of Ruists and Mohists. Therefore the fortunes one encounters, when judged by Heaven, are difficult to scrutinize in detail; the years of premature death or longevity, when examined in human terms, are easily perplexing. When humans distribute rewards and punishments, they can still discern clearly without overstepping; would Heaven, in sending down disaster and blessing, instead act chaotically and without order? Therefore we know that a principle resides within this, which cannot be denied. If not for the Greatly Awakened One who possesses universal knowledge, who could exhaust the principles and dispel the doubts?

The words of Bu Shang and Jia Yi, the essays of Ban Biao and Ji Kang—they only knew how to lump it together and call it 'destiny,' but none could discern the reasons why destiny is so. How does this differ from seeing millet in a granary without knowing it was obtained through sowing and reaping, or beholding silk in a hamper without recognizing it was produced by loom and shuttle? Sima Qian lamented the failing of retribution, accumulating doubts that he could not resolve; Fan Pang was perplexed by the fittingness of good and evil, harboring resentment with no way to dispel it. They all saw the stream without tracing the source; they saw the one without knowing the other. Only by examining the sūtras and treatises of the Śākya clan can one investigate their beginnings and ends!

The retributions of doing good and doing evil trace their myriad branches across a thousand leaves; a destiny of richness or poverty illuminates its root source across ten thousand ages. It discerns the comings and goings of the six destinies and demonstrates the disasters and blessings of the three periods of time. Thus we know that though the physical form perishes, karma does not decay; though a person dies, the spirit is born again. Sometimes a worthy or sage suffers past disasters, so that even with the six superknowledges he lacks palatable food; sometimes a beast enjoys remaining blessings, so that a four-footed creature carries a wish-fulfilling jewel. Since actions performed are not of a single thread, the retributions evoked are truly of a thousand varieties. Karmas differ according to the mind; retributions vary just as faces do.

Tracing their minds: some are first deluded and later return to the path; some have a beginning but no end; some are consistently evil without remorse; some are purely good and ever lofty; some achieve merit but incur blame; some have meager blessings but abundant wisdom; some share the same transgression with different intentions; some achieve different merits with the same aspiration.

Therefore, in their retributions: some weep first and laugh later; some worry about loss once they have gained; some are lowly in youth and meet calamity in the end; some flourish at first and meet good fortune in the finish; some are pure in conduct yet die young; some are base in behavior yet overflow with wealth; some commit the same crime yet receive different punishments; some share equal virtue yet receive different ranks. Karma has many facets and is intricately intertwined; fruition is fully repaid in every fine thread. It is just like a painter laying down colors of vermilion and azure, or a mirror's reflection answering to beauty and ugliness. Destined to summon the six seals, Su Qin succeeded through roaming discourse; karma drawing ten thousand pieces of gold, Fan Li fulfilled his calculating art. Taking the azure and purple ribbons as easily as bending down to pick them up—this is aided by past causes; mastering rites and music yet remaining firmly in distress—this lacks the support of past blessings. Those reciting the *Analects* followed in close succession, yet Zhang Yu alone enjoyed high honor; those expounding the *Odes* stood shoulder to shoulder, yet Kuang Heng singularly held exalted rank. Or merit and labor were worthy of record, yet emolument did not reach Jie Zitui; or faults and enmities deserved execution, yet noble rank was first bestowed upon Yong Chi. Wei Xian's classical learning far surpassed leaving behind gold; Zhao Yi's literary writings were inferior to a full pouch of coins. How could this be due to differences in visible deeds? It truly originates from differences in past destiny.

Sometimes one of small talent holds great office, yet as chancellor achieves no illustrious merit; sometimes the Way is manifest while one's person is lowly, so that Confucius and Mozi suffered the humiliation of wandering restlessly. There are also those whose virtue and position are both exalted, like the Eight Worthies standing in the court of Yao and Shun; their talent and destiny both flourished, like Fu Yue and Lü Shang receiving the trust of seasoned broth. When the two causes are both cultivated, then they combine in this way; when a single karma is cultivated in isolation, then one's fortune is one-sided like that. Guan Zhong was released from prison to become prime minister; Li Si served as prime minister and met with punishment. Fan Ju was first humiliated and later honored; Deng Tong was wealthy at first and starved in the end. It was not that they were slow of speech at first and eloquent in the end; how could they be foolish in the past and wise now? It is because when the fruit ripens, peace arrives; when blessings are exhausted, distress ensues.

If one says that it was Grand Minister Pi who brought down Wu Zixu and this was not due to past disasters, or that it was Wang Ling who saved Zhang Cang and this had nothing to do with past blessings—this is seeing conditions while being ignorant of causes, incurring the error of the view of annihilationism. If one says that karma has bound one to a noble post and so one does not remember the kindness of rising together, or that destiny met with a benevolent wind and so one feels no shame before the kindness of relief—this is knowing causes while failing to recognize conditions, committing the crime of ingratitude. If one fully understands both principles and dispels both entanglements, how could there be any hindrance in advancing in virtue and cultivating one's vocation?

Planting fine grain in spring depends upon summer rains to flourish; cultivating good causes in the past relies on present conditions to be activated. Receiving rich moisture yet remaining unplowed is barren land; meeting an enlightened era yet remaining poor and lowly is a scholar without causes. The principle of cause and condition is complete in the sūtras and treatises; wherever one encounters it, it grows—all are of this kind. If one sees only one and does not harmonize the two, the sprouting of fault and entanglement harms one's virtue.

Examining what is clarified in the Buddhist scriptures: white and black karma have the determined and the undetermined; the retribution of misfortune and blessing has the alterable and the unalterable. Practicing virtue or committing faults can only avert alterable karma; whether worthy or foolish, one cannot alter determined destiny. When great goodness accumulates, disasters vanish; when many evils are full, blessings are destroyed. The inevitability of this principle is trustworthy and without doubt. It is like medicine overcoming illness and removing it, or pouring rain extinguishing a blaze; a giant dam checking a trickling stream, or a sharp axe felling a morning mushroom. But when a disease resides in the vitals, good medicine cannot save it; when fire blazes across plains and marshes, a drop of water truly cannot quench it. The trees of the Deng forest cannot be exhausted with a single blade; the current of the Changjiang—how could a single clod dam it? Great virtue can conceal slight flaws; slight merit is insufficient to compensate for great faults. Inscribing metal and stone is difficult work; crushing what is withered and rotten is easy labor.

Where karma is slight, its retribution is not firm; where action is firm, its fruition is determined. Because it is not firm, it can be altered; because it is determined, it is difficult to move. As for the distress that can be altered, therefore the three chants halted the waves of the great sea; as for the distress that is difficult to move, then even the four fruitions meet the harm of violent men. Liu Kun, a minor worthy, caused the wind to reverse and extinguish a fire; Tang Yao, a great sage, met with floods that mounted the hills. Judging by this, there is no need to be perplexed. Duke Wen of Jin increased his virtue, destroying the great snake by the roadside; Duke Jing of Song uttered virtuous words, driving back the baleful star at the edge of heaven—this is undetermined karma. Duke Wen of Zhu disregarded himself to benefit his people, having virtue yet meeting no response; King Zhao of Chu averted disaster and yielded blessings, uttering good words yet meeting personal misfortune—this is determined destiny. Sometimes sharing the same evil brings different retributions; sometimes having equal goodness brings different fruits. All are brought about by past causes; why should one find it strange within a single lifetime?

Confucius said: 'The petty man does not understand the mandate of Heaven and does not fear it.' He also said: 'Without knowing destiny, one has no means to become a gentleman.' What the Buddha calls karma is what the Ruists call destiny. Their words differ but the principle converges; they can be discussed together. Destiny is tied to karma; karma arises from the person. A person receives destiny to experience distress or success; destiny follows karma in richness or meager ness. A destiny of richness or meager ness is entirely due to oneself; is it not erroneous to resent Heaven and blame superiors? The *Book of Odes* says: 'The calamities of the common people do not descend from Heaven.' The *Zuo Commentary* says: 'Misfortune and blessing have no gate; they are summoned only by the person.' This means that Heaven cannot be blamed, and responsibility lies with the person. Meng Ke sought office in Lu, not bearing resentment at Zang Cang's obstruction; Zhongyou served the Ji clan, holding no anger toward Gongbo Liao's slander. This means that human beings cannot be blamed, and it is ascribed to Heaven. Their words may seem contradictory, but their ultimate aim is not different. In summary: both converge in advancing virtue, subduing oneself and admonishing others to encourage diligent aspiration, finding joy in Heaven and knowing destiny to eliminate sorrowful blame. For this reason, internally one is diligent in overcoming destiny, and externally one broadens the virtue of non-contention. Above, there is no fault of resenting Heaven; below, there is no entanglement of blaming others. The practice of the Golden Mean lies right here. Those of old who were skilled in practicing the Way—did they not apply themselves to this?

In the past, when I first heard the Buddhist scriptures, my faith was not deep; confined within the scope of my ears and eyes, I doubted what lay beyond sight and hearing. I thought the discourse of prior causes and later fruitions was like Zhuang Zhou's allegories, and discussions of heaven above and earth below were like Sima Xiangru's fictions. Seeing the wicked slip through the net, I acted wrongly without restraint; hearing of the loyal and upright meeting misfortune, I slighted goodness without encouragement. How grave was this delusion! When one understands karma, it is not so. The gentleman who understands karma is selfless and entrusts himself to destiny, looking up to the pure virtue of sages and worthies, and earnestly practicing noble conduct like gold and jade. He feels no distress living in a narrow alley; he forgets rivalry for fame and profit. Thus he brings to an end the remaining karma of the past and opens up enduring celebrations of the future. Disregarding the mockery and slander of the vulgar crowd, how could he seek the praises of his home village?

When planted, one does not see it grow, yet in time it becomes large; on a whetstone, one does not see it wear down, yet in the end its thickness is consumed. The retribution for the good and evil of one's present form is close in time and not yet ripe; the fruits of good and bad fortune from past lives must await the exhaustion of their span before they fade. For example, sowing and reaping yield sweetness, but one does not plant in the morning and harvest in the evening; caltrops produce thorns, but they sprout in spring and fruit in autumn. Those who do not plow yet are sated depend on the leftover grain of past years; those who are not worthy yet are wealthy and long-lived enjoy the old blessings of a previous life. The Way of Heaven has no favorites; human karma has abundance and deficit. Deducing the mandate of Heaven from this, doubts and perplexities can be dispelled.

As for the records of the Yu, Xia, Shang, and Zhou, and the words of Huang-Lao, Confucius, and Mozi, their Way is applied only to a single lifetime; their words never touch upon the three periods of time. Thus there are six points that can perplex, and they have no words to resolve them.

They show the benefits of doing good, referring to noble rank, reward, and reputation; they set forth the harms of doing evil, clarifying shame, disgrace, and punishment. Yet for scholars who flee rewards and conceal their names, what do they consider beneficial? Men who shamelessly seek to evade punishment do not suffer its harm. How can this suffice for warning and encouragement? This is the first perplexity.

They say that Heaven grants goodness and sends down a hundred blessings, and that spirits punish licentiousness and inflict the six extremities. Yet Boniu possessed virtuous conduct and fell ill—did Heaven dislike his doing good? Robber Zhi was violent and cruel yet did not die young—did the spirits favor his doing evil? Why do misfortune and blessing fall so indiscriminately? This is the second perplexity.

If one says that transgressions perish together with the physical form, and merit decays along with the body, what celebration of goodness can be spoken of, and what disaster of evil should be cautioned against? If the retribution of good and evil truly exists and is not absent, then for him who ate mountain ferns and starved to death, where were blessings added to him? For him who minced human liver and died in old age, when did he suffer misfortune? Why is there no retribution for good and evil? This is the third perplexity.

If one says that misfortune and blessing stem from one's ancestors, and disaster and celebration extend to descendants, examining this in earlier records shows it is not necessarily so. The lineage of Bo Zong and Yang She was extinguished in the Jin court; the descendants of Qingfu and Shuya flourished in the state of Lu. How could this be due to their ancestors? This is the fourth perplexity.

If one says that in observing good and scrutinizing evil, High Heaven is sometimes mistaken, and thus the blessings sent down and disasters dispersed are not equal on the earth below—yet would the bright mandate of Heaven truly be blind in rewards and punishments? Can one say that the Way of Heaven is inferior to the regulations of a mortal king? This is the fifth perplexity.

If one says that misfortune and blessing are not summoned by human beings, and good and evil have no retribution hereafter, then why did the hundred kings reward goodness and punish licentiousness, and why did the Six Classics praise virtue and censure faults? That would be vain encouragement toward what brings no benefit, and false warnings toward what brings no harm! Why then honor Confucius's propagation of teachings, and why blame Ying Zheng's burning of books? This is the sixth perplexity.

Therefore, the incitement and drawing forth of good and evil, and the leaning and resting of misfortune and blessing, if restricted solely to a single lifetime and not connected across the three periods of time, their principle is narrow and not broad! How could they resolve human delusions? In preventing evil, they are not thorough; in guiding toward goodness, they have many deficiencies. Their grasp of the principle is still shallow; their benefit to the people is still meager. Compared to the profound words of the Ten Powers and the wonderful Dharma of the Three Vehicles, which save the four forms of birth from the burning house and steer the six vessels across the sea of suffering, the difference between high and low is as an anthill to Mount Kunlun; the dissimilarity of shallow and deep is as a puddle to the Changjiang and Han Rivers. How could they be mentioned in the same breath?

Of old, the bright comprehension of Vimalakīrti and the acute eloquence of Śāriputra are detailed in the sūtras and treatises and can be compared: they suffice to surpass Xiang Tuo and excel Confucius; to outstrip Laozi and transcend Xu You; to subdue Mozi and shatter Zhuang Zhou; to engulf the hundred schools and encompass the nine streams of thought. Nothing recorded in the books can equal them. Yet they received various heterodox teachings without destroying their right faith; though versed in worldly scriptures, they ever delighted in the Buddha's Dharma. Serving Śākyamuni as their master, they devotedly embraced his skillful guidance. How could they fail to recognize the supremacy of the Way and hold it in veneration?"