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集古今佛道論衡 2.22

English (machine translation) 2.22

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2.22

[Dao]lin presented his memorial, saying: "Ever since the state established its governance, it has valued only the Dao; in regulating, transforming, and nurturing the people, what could stand higher than virtue? One has only seen the Dao decline and the state perish; never has there been a case where military might alone made a dynasty endure. Thus the cruel Zhou relied on vast hosts, yet disaster toppled the imperial line; King Wu of Zhou cultivated virtue, and blessings gathered at the dynastic foundation. Fuchai was arrogant in battle and ultimately brought about his own destruction; Goujian used the Dao, turning peril back into peace. Judged by this, how could it relate to destroying the Buddha and suppressing the Saṅgha? You have just pacified the eastern lands, which simply coincided with this time of destruction; happening by chance upon this convergence, you mistakenly claim that destroying the Dharma brings benefit. If that were so, when Tang attacked Xia, when King Wen conquered Chong, when King Wu executed Zhou, when Qin unified all under Heaven, and when the Red [Emperor of] Han destroyed Xiang [Yu]—did any of these sovereigns do so by destroying the Buddha?"

From that point on, they debated back and forth, criticizing and slandering the persons and the Dharma: some raised the matter of refusing court etiquette to the ruler and parents; some alleged the false claim of Buddha-nature; some mocked the analytic distinction between form and mind; some censured the view of action that denies retribution; some pointed to the body's origin in yin and yang. Lin resolved each difficulty as it was raised. The Emperor persistently laid down difficulty upon difficulty, three and five times exhausting principles and scrutinizing the nature [of things]; Lin dispelled every doubt and unraveled every challenge.

The Emperor said: "You say that karma does not depart from principle and ordinary mortals have the potential to enter sagehood; that nature is not outside karma and the Dao encompasses the path to commoners. If so, the Dao is nowhere absent, comprehensively penetrating ordinary and holy alike; then in teaching there is no need to distinguish Confucius from Śākya—vainly exalting such words! In outer form, the sacred and the secular merge—fruitlessly adding the ornament of shaving the head! From this we know that the sovereign ruler is himself the Tathāgata: one ought to dispense with the sixteen-foot image. Princes and dukes are themselves bodhisattvas: relieve Mañjuśrī of his duties. Elders can serve as sthaviras: no need for Piṇḍola. Benevolence and kindness are truly the perfections of giving: why resort to relinquishing a kingdom? Harmonious peace is the foremost diligent monk: why labor over the uposatha? Pure integrity and prudence constitute the prātimokṣa: why must one receive precepts? Frugality is truly having few desires: there is no resort to dhūtas. A vegetarian meal is the finest continuous fast: why bother with abstaining from grains? Letting things take their course subtly accords with non-self: what need to rely on understanding emptiness? Forgetting merit wholly penetrates the Mahāyāna: why aspire to prajñā? Civil and military virtues are simply the two wisdoms, without contemplating emptiness and existence; tactical stratagems readily become skillful means, without awaiting miraculous transformations. Conferring office is truly the bestowing of prediction, yielding nothing to the attainment of the fruits [of the path]; receiving rank and salary is finding heaven here below, without awaiting upper realms; punishments and executions are hell manifestly experienced, not pointing to Niraya. Taking the people as one's children may be called Great Compassion; making all within the four seas one's home is identical with the dharmadhātu; governing according to principle: how is it different from saving living beings? Bringing peace and joy to the common people: how does it diverge from uprooting suffering? Punishing and eliminating harms in principle is vanquishing Māra; reigning over all under Heaven is truly attaining the Dao! Grand and vast—how does it differ from a pure land? Splendid and stately—how does it yield to Kapilavastu? You harbor contrary views and deludedly generate biased attachments. Speaking from the facts before us, what place is not the Dao?"

[Dao]lin presented his memorial, saying: "I humbly receive Your Majesty's decree: the principle is vast, the words are profound. You blend the Dao and mingle the secular, breaking through fixation and dispelling attachments, thereby causing every circumstance to mount reality and all sentient beings to share in the Dao, self and other both content, thousands of paths brought to unity. Fine indeed it is! Yet this foolish subject still harbors doubts. If the ultimate Dao is solely one, then there are no two to blend; if principle ever separates the inner and the outer, then they can naturally maintain their distinction. If it is one and yet not one, then it is half-right and half-wrong; if it is two and yet not two, then it is now sacred, now secular. If so, the black-robed and the white-robed become confused, and Confucianism and Buddhism lose their proper order; the inner and the outer intermix, and higher and lower mingle their ranks. Not only would this deeply submerge pure transformation from afar, but it would also confuse popular customs near at hand. Therefore yin and yang share the same qi, yet generating and killing ever differ; Heaven and Earth share the same bodily form, yet high and low ever remain distinct. One cannot make the earth move and heaven stay still just because both possess form; nor can someone, seeing they share the same qi, make yin give life and yang kill. In actual matters, such a principle never exists; empty words can hardly be put to use. Thus, while form is shared and qi is one, they may be called identical; yet in generating and killing, high and low, they cannot but be distinct. Therefore, they are identical and yet not identical, one and yet not one. In the principle of the sacred and the secular, there is uniformity and yet no sharing; non-action is naturally distinct. Furthermore, although the name of 'king' is one, the ordinary and the holy are as far apart as heaven and earth; though forms and affairs slightly resemble each other, their breadth and narrowness are completely different. For this reason, Confucianism and Buddhism have arisen together with beginninglessness; the sacred and the secular transform together with Heaven and Earth. If you wish to obliterate them into one, it would be proper to abolish the secular with the Dao; if both are beneficial to the world, the two principles of the unseen and the manifest are equally bright. Now to elevate one while abolishing the other is truly impermissible."

The imperial decree stated: "You say that the sacred and the secular are as far apart as heaven and earth, utterly contradicting the inner and the outer. It might also be said: the Dao should be its own Dao, having no part in the secular; Buddhism should be its own Buddhism, not relying on Confucian rulers. If the Dao were only the Dao, what benefit would the Dao bring? If the Buddha were solely the Buddha, what merit would transformation possess? Therefore the sacred and the secular assist one another; Confucianism and Buddhism make each other manifest. If you did not rely on Our words, what could you debate? Hence the inner and outer suppress and foster, abolishing and establishing one another. Now the monastic code cannot operate where the king's law severs it. Abolition and revival lie in destiny, not violating constant principle. There is no principle of permanent flourishing; what fault is there in abolition?"

[Dao]lin presented his memorial, saying: "Looking up to receive the imperial decree is like parting the clouds to see the sun. Listening humbly to the imperial instruction, it is truly as Your Majesty has stated: the Dao is not the Dao of itself—without the secular it is not made manifest; the Buddha is not the Buddha of himself—only the sovereign can cause it to flourish. Hence when the Buddhist teachings spread eastward, five hundred years elapsed, and the widespread propagation of the Dharma's transformation necessarily relied upon the power of the sovereign. Thus we know that the Dao relies on men for its propagation, and the divine is moved through living beings. The flourishing and ruin of the Buddha trace their merit back to the imperial will. The Dao has its rises and falls; in principle it never endures forever. The Dharma has its periods of latency and manifestation; in principle it is difficult for it to be constantly present. It has been abolished of late, and in principle it cannot operate immediately; yet having ceased and been severed for long, the time for its revival comes next in sequence. Flourishing and decline alternate; the principle naturally accords with the opportune moment. For both to follow the fortunes of the world—would that not be appropriate?"

The imperial decree stated: "The law of emperors and kings excels at decisively choosing what to take and what to leave, clearly determining what to reject and what to follow; it examines sameness and difference and subtly observes the extraordinary. As for the Buddhist teachings, We have already quietly contemplated them in Our inner chamber, weighed them against past and present, verified them through actual events, and calculated their gains and losses: the principle is not constant and not essential; the text is lofty and abstruse but useless. It was not discarded and abolished without cause; what love or hatred could We have toward Confucianism or Buddhism?"

[Dao]lin presented his memorial, saying: "The root of propagating the Dharma requires fixing one's mind upon attained persons; the foremost priority in spreading transformation is directing one's intention toward the correct Dao. Do not look upon those who oppose you with hostility, harboring estrangement toward them, while being delighted with and drawing near to those who flatter you with pleasing words. If so, you will become confused by what you see and disordered by what you hear. You must not repeatedly hear words that slander the correct [path] and then readily accept them, chiming in with their tune, multiplying disputes, seeking out faults and shortcomings, and daily harboring contempt. This would be using falsehood to supplant truth, letting the clamor of the crowd bewilder your intention, causing those who ought to be kept at a distance to be advanced further, and those who ought to be kept close to be distanced further. This would cause discussions to become biased and perverse, and choices of adoption and rejection to be exclusively mistaken. This is the calamity that harms the true, the baleful burden that destroys virtue."

At this, the Emperor did not reply. Instead, he opened another avenue to initiate debate, asking: "We have heard that a gentleman's actions must strictly accord with ritual propriety, and a wise man's movements must respond to the opportune moment. Of late, We have repeatedly bestowed food upon you, yet you say you do not drink wine or eat meat. Wine is a medicine that harmonizes the spirit, and meat is nourishment that fills the stomach; past and present share this taste—why do you alone hold it in contempt? If one is wearing mourning garments, ritual code forbids eating it; but when bestowed as it is today, you could naturally eat it. To refuse what may be eaten—is that not an error?"

[Dao]lin presented his memorial, saying: "Coveting wealth and delighting in sensuality are despised by men of integrity; fond indulgence in delicacies is detested by men of purity. Severing attachments to follow the Dao was praised by former sages; suppressing desires to exalt virtue was universally extolled by past philosophers. How much more so when meat comes from the killing of life, and wine can derange the spirit! Not eating them is right principle; how could it be an error?"

The imperial decree stated: "Meat comes from harming life, so abstaining from it may indeed be so; but wine does not injure life, so why institute a total prohibition? If doing no harm incurs guilt, and that which is without transgression is called an error, then drinking juice and eating rice should also incur guilt. Yet in reality they do not; why then prohibit wine exclusively?"

[Dao]lin presented his memorial, saying: "Precepts are established according to specific matters, while incurring guilt depends on the mind. The substance of meat stems from harm: eating it immediately incurs guilt. The nature of wine does not involve harm; the transgression comes from clouding the spirit. Transgressions arise elsewhere, but their arising originates with wine. By abstaining from wine, they are eliminated; therefore it is prohibited by restrictive precept. This is different; it does not mean that the substance of wine is itself a transgression."

The imperial decree stated: "Offenses are of two kinds: prohibitive and intrinsic. The substance of wine generates transgression. Now, if there is a person who can tolerate wine, able to drink without becoming intoxicated and without clouding his spirit, nor generating transgression—such a person, in drinking wine, should not incur guilt. Thus, being able to drink involves no error, while being unable to do so invites fault. What has this to do with abstaining from wine to fulfill the goodness of the precepts? One might say that he who can drink and tolerate wine is ever termed an observer of precepts, while he who becomes drunk after drinking a little is a great transgressor."

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