廣弘明集 12.35

12.35

The Emperor of the Great Tang inwardly cultivates good roots and relies on blessings, while outwardly complying with Heaven and according with the people. Thus Chinese and foreigners alike follow in allegiance, the horde of villainous traitors have surrendered, the storehouses and granaries are filled to overflowing, and the imperial domains have been thoroughly pacified. Were it not for the reception of blessings within and without, how could he have brought an end to such hardship? If one asserts that whoever desires loyal ministers and filial sons to aid the world and govern the people need only read the one roll of the Classic of Filial Piety and the two chapters of Laozi, and has no need to read the Buddhist sutras extensively: upon examining this, the Classic of Filial Piety only explains worldly loyalty and filial piety; it has not yet reached supramundane loyalty and filial piety. Why is this so? Living in the lay world, one plows with one's own hands and serves one's parents, exhausting one's strength. Leaving home to practice the Path, one venerates the Dharma and gives rise to loving-kindness. He who exhausts his strength repays a minor favor in the present; he who gives rise to loving-kindness repays a great virtue in the future. Although for a time he departs from respectful care, seeming to neglect his parents, in the end he is able to deliver and rescue them—only this is supreme filial piety. Its benefits permeate across the three existences; how could it be merely the toil of morning and evening? Its kindness moistens a hundred lifetimes; how could one merely require devotion at dawn and dusk? Comparing the householder to the monastic, superiority and inferiority are clear. If one says that the two chapters of Laozi are sufficient to explain loyal ministers and filial sons, aiding the world and governing the people: upon examining Laozi, he eliminates thought and preserves genuineness, is free of attachment and disdains the mundane; he abandons parents without looking back, and casts away his sovereign like discarded refuse. How could he discuss upholding filial piety, maintaining loyalty, governing the people, or aiding the world? Thus Laozi says: 'The reason I have great misfortune is because I have a body. When I have no body, what misfortune could I have?' This is commanding people to disdain the body and abandon the world; he cannot aid the world. He also says: 'He who values his body over the world may be temporarily entrusted with it, but not for long.' Heshanggong's commentary states: 'If a lord of men values his own body and despises other people, though he wishes to be the master of the world, it may only be temporarily entrusted to him, but he cannot long remain in that station.' This is commanding people to cast off worldly glory; he cannot govern the people. Examining Fu Yi: relying on insolence and obstinacy, he flippantly exercises his lips and tongue. His words are verbose, but their logic is meager; his phrases are few, but his curses are many. Giving free rein to the poison of anger to strike people, he vents wicked speech to confuse the commoners. Thereupon, the sound of an owl and foul vapors gradually filled the villages; the screech of a zhen-bird and toxic sounds slowly clamored along the roads. As a result, foolish and heterodox partisans sang praises and passed them along, while gentlemen of profound insight sighed in grief and felt pity. Yet he partially protected the Daoist teaching while loathing Buddhist monks. Creatures of a kind resonate with one another; humans and animals are no different. It is like the dog of Chi You barking at Xuan Yuan, or the followers of Robber Zhi despising Confucius; this is not surprising. It is only that Fu Yi saw that the Buddhist Dharma is lofty and revered, and that the monks are noble and eminent: when sitting they invariably occupy the highest seats; when walking, they must be in front; emperors and kings deeply venerate them, and court officials revere them; the temples and pagodas are majestic and large, and vegetarian offerings are overflowing; commoners vie to take refuge, and men and women flock to them. By contrast, within the Mystery Altars, affairs are like those of a deserted village; in Daoist abbeys, conditions resemble abandoned local shrines. At times, relying on sacrifices and offerings, they depend on wine and meat to summon people; or, relying on auspicious and inauspicious events, they use the delivery of gifts to draw in goods. Anyone who has even a slight understanding cannot be deceived; anyone with a little faith would hardly accept their invitations. Ashamed of their own desolation, they continually harbor jealousy, fabricating empty words and forcibly attempting to humiliate and defeat [Buddhism]. Their curses push foulness to the extreme, and their imprecations exhaust evil words. Their slanders do not dread calamity; how could their vilification weigh sin and merit? Even if Buddhism were burned and wiped out before their eyes, it would still not satisfy their wishes; even if they personally executed and slaughtered the monks, could it sate their glee? The Book of Documents says: 'People hate those above them; beasts hate the nets.' Does this not speak of such things? In the past, Cui Hao persuaded Emperor Taiwu of the Northern Wei to destroy the Buddhist Dharma and kill monks and nuns, yet he personally worshipped revered images within his own home. Taiwu discovered this, and angered by his hypocrisy and deceit, he executed him and exposed his corpse in the city marketplace, decreeing that passersby all defecate into his mouth. Taiwu then restored the Buddhist Dharma and worshipped it reverently as before. Furthermore, Emperor Wu of the Northern Zhou was wildly perverse and unprincipled; he annihilated the Buddhist Dharma, burned the scriptures and images, demolished pagodas and temples, and defrocked the monastic assembly. Consequently, his body broke out in leprous sores and he died of a virulent disease. These are both clear, recent verifications of divine retribution. His Majesty's sagely and literate mind has long since discerned this profoundly. As for Fu Yi's sinful karma, he is about to fall into Avīci Hell and sink for eternal kalpas, which is deeply pitiable. I merely feel compassion for his perverse errors, and enlighten him with correct words. If perchance he turns back from his delusion, how could he be far from the Way? I hope that all his fellow evildoers will comprehend this intention.