辯正論 4.7

4.7

The reigning Emperor of our Great Tang received the breath of the Great Change and the Great Beginning, and was endowed with the numinous power of the Heavenly Sovereign and the Heavenly Thearch. From the secluded chamber began the foundation of Gaoyang; at the ruins of Yao was built the enterprise of Chonghua. Red light flowed through the doors, and purple vapors shot into the heavens. He possessed the physical marks of the dragon's visage and phoenix's breast, the omens of the solar horn and lunar crescent, the wonder of river-like eyes and sea-like mouth, and the marvel of breadth above and sharpness below. With sagely and penetrating insight he knew the future and stored away the past; he explored the subtle and reached the profound, exhausting the divine and fully realizing human nature. Bestowed by heaven, his nature was spontaneous; when he was still like a concealed dragon, his virtue already encompassed all under heaven. During the closing years of the Sui dynasty, the realm fell into disunion: fire scorched Mount Kunlun, and water billowed across the vast ocean. Wang Shichong acted insolently in Gong and Luo; Dou Jiande hesitated in Ji and Ding. Tang Bi and Xue Ju swarmed like ants in the Three Qin regions, while Liu Heita and Liang Shidu strutted like birds of prey across the Six Commanderies. All harbored the intent to hunt the deer, each setting up spurious titles. Gathering shiftless scoundrels and leading ragtag mobs, they unleashed the brute force of cattle and sheep and set out from mountains of mere water and grass. West of the River, dragons and snakes perished together; in the Central Plains, jade and stone were both consumed. Consequently, beneath heaven and upon the earth, all vied in sighing for a saviour; throughout the capital and the royal domains, people gave rise to the lament of destitute weavers. Our Emperor, being the son of the sovereign, received the mandate of Heavenly Strategy. Bearing the gravity of deep responsibility, he rescued them from the peril of treading on thin ice; with deep nightly vigilance, he rushed to relieve the agony of hanging upside down. Fully executing the nine punitive campaigns and commanding the six royal armies, he was covered above by the banners of sun and moon, and deployed below the battle formations of heaven and earth. Drums shook the wilderness, and their vigor moved the gates of heaven; horns echoed through the mountains, and their majesty startled the terrestrial doors. Thereupon, girding himself with shooting stars, he penetrated far; riding rushing thunderbolts, he charged in the vanguard. None failed to crumble like tiles and melt like ice, yielding like grass before the wind. In triumphant songs of victory, none could contest his merit. Since the nine eras of the Heavenly Sovereign and after fifty-two battles—through a total of one hundred and twenty-five generations, one thousand three hundred and fifty-nine ages, and ten million one hundred and twenty-two thousand one hundred and twenty-seven years—among all who held the battleaxe to face the foe and waved the flags to vow their hosts, purging baleful vapors, cutting down baneful comets, saving the drowning from overflowing currents, and rescuing people from the disaster of prairie fires, unifying the world and clearing the heavenly paths, none has ever matched our Emperor's conduct of warfare. Gaozu concentrated his spirit and nurtured his sagacity, letting his thoughts roam beyond the mists and clouds, entering the profound and ascending the unseen, treading high beyond the realm of devas and humans. Formerly, when the myriad regions were drowned in dark misery and the hundred deities suffered neglect of their offerings, he yielded the lofty style of Yingyang to rescue the drowning populace across the land. The black-haired people were blessed with his virtue of recreation, and all creatures were indebted to his grace of complete ordering. He did not set his mind on the imperial carriage, but looked down in concern for the common folk. The intention to cast off the empire like an old sandal never faded from his heart; the resolve to lay down the burden was manifested at each daybreak. Glad that the ancestral sacrifices could be entrusted, and rejoicing that the clan’s ancestral blessing had a master, he chose an auspicious time and selected the day, passing the great jewel of the empire to the Crown Prince. Since gloriously receiving the regency as heir apparent in the Spring Palace, his virtue reached internal and external realms, and his benevolence covered the seen and unseen. Soon his doubled brilliance shone forth, illuminating the universe; assisting martial power and magnifying benevolence, his glory overflowed amid wind and clouds. Faithfully following the three excellences, he brought rectitude to the myriad realms. When the gates of heaven were reopened and the precious calendar was renewed, he looked down upon China and made great vows of adornment; consoling the black-haired people, he widely promoted benefits. Opening the sun of the four immeasurables, he universally illumined with the clouds of Yao; raising the wind of the six perfections, he caused the rains of Shun to flow everywhere. The precious vessel, having sunk, rose again; the cloud of compassion, having rolled up, unfolded anew. The immortal terraces flourished alongside the Dharma parks; the jade mirror revolved in unison with the golden wheel. His grace reached the peak of existence (bhavāgra); his Dao extended beyond all bounds. Auspicious omens and fortunate signs were foretold in advance; his broad benevolence, virtue, and filial piety are fully chronicled in later histories. Constantly taking the opening of the hunting net to heart, and keeping the knotted-cord governance in mind, he wished to empty the prisons forever and permanently extinguish the beacon fires, so that the bustling multitude of living beings might together attain benevolence and longevity, and the vast expanse of the whole land might jointly venerate Tathatā. In the first year of the Zhenguan reign era, in the first month (Jiazhong), he raised high the victory banner; at the time of the third month (Guxi), he threw wide the halls of wisdom. The monks and nuns of the capital all practiced the path for seven days in their respective monasteries; whatever was needed for vegetarian feasts and offerings was provided by the officials according to regulation. On the day the fast concluded, they assembled together at Daxingshan Monastery. In the second year of Zhenguan, an edict was issued saying: 'The spirit realm establishes teaching with loving-kindness and beneficence coming first; the mysterious transformation operates secretly, serving as the source that rears and nurtures all things. Having reverently received the great jewel of the throne, we cherish the common people; our mind of pity and sympathy grows whenever it encounters living beings. For this reason, we widely seek invisible blessings and secretly assist the luminous spirits. We hope that the nine accomplishments will be in order and the five blessings will respond accordingly. Recently, severe frost descended early, and the autumn crops did not ripen. Reflecting quietly on our own meager virtue, we never cease to feel ashamed and apprehensive. Now the hundred grains are flourishing and the myriad fruits are about to ripen; yet we still fear that untimely wind and rain will leave their nourishing growth with no support. We dare to rely on the all-seeing powers to confer abundant blessings. It is proper to pray on behalf of the myriad millions under heaven for their protective blessings. Let the monks, nuns, and Daoist masters in the monasteries and abbeys of the capital and of all prefectures throughout the empire recite scriptures and practice the path for seven days and seven nights. Every year, in the first month and the seventh month, let this be the regular standard.' The mysterious grace was close at hand; the sagely power provided unseen support. Gentle breezes and fertile rains arrived in due season and measure; fine sprouts and late grains covered the plains and fields. The state attained the wealth of nine years' provisions, and families were blessed with harvests of ten thousand baskets. The Emperor had long planted the five constants and from afar was endowed with the ten virtues; he inaugurated the hegemon-like enterprise of a rising king and responded to the joyous hearts of the myriad millions. However, because at the start of raising righteous troops he encountered the end of an age, he personally faced arrows and stones, repeatedly commanding the grand armies. Whether cutting down the seven heroes in the east or pacifying the eight rivers in the west, he unleashed divine troops to slaughter the wild boars, and rode his heavenly strategy to decapitate the great serpents. Having stirred such majestic wrath, he feared the lingering pain of resentful spirits. In the late spring of that year, he personally issued an imperial edict: 'Since raising righteous forces at the end of the Sui, our intention was to rescue the drowning; whether campaigning north or marching east, wherever we went, all were pacified and exterminated. Under the yellow battleaxe and at the tips of metal arrows, those slain and killed are beyond count; those slain by our own hand approach nearly one thousand. We privately reflect that the holy teaching of the Tathāgata profoundly values loving-kindness and benevolence, and in the rules of the precepts, killing is the heaviest offense. Long pondering this principle, our regret and fear only increase. We therefore command the officials that all monasteries in the capital hold vegetarian feasts and practice the path, exhausting their sincerity in repentance and worship for seven days and seven nights; all clothing and provisions are to be donated through dāna. We hope that through this, beings may be freed from the hardships of the three destinies, and the suffering of myriad kalpas may be broadly alleviated, extinguishing minds of enmity and obstruction, and turning them toward the path to bodhi.' In the first month of the third year, an imperial order was issued commanding the monks and nuns of the capital to practice the path and recite the Benevolent King Sūtra and the Great Cloud Sūtra in their respective monasteries on the fourteenth day of every month, making this a permanent rule. Furthermore, by imperial order, Tripiṭaka Master Prabhākaramitra and others were instructed to translate the Ratnatārā Sūtra at Daxingshan Monastery. Falin wrote the preface, which stated: 'The Ratnatārā Sūtra consists of over three thousand verses in the Sanskrit text. It was spoken by the Tathāgata when he first attained the path of awakening, converted Maudgalyāyana and Śāriputra, subdued the demon king, and protected the realm. Since the image teaching gradually spread eastward across many years, the texts of the three wheels and eight piṭakas, and the tenets of the four trees and five vehicles, displayed their divine radiance in the stone chambers and transmitted their Sanskrit resonances at the astrological towers. Yet though successive translations followed one another, many doubts and omissions remained. Our Emperor of the Great Tang is holy and divine, truly civil and martial; seizing the opportunity and controlling fortune, he rescued the drowning and saved them from fire. Restoring the style of the ancient sovereigns, he practiced the trust that goes without speaking. Removing excess and extremity, he subdued all within the eight bounds; doing nothing and practicing wuwei, he received the tribute of the myriad nations. The lands of the Lake of Sand and the Heaven Mountains have all been brought within the imperial frontiers; the realms of dragon courts and phoenix nests are all moistened by his moral teaching. His benevolence surpasses opening the hunting net; his governance follows the ancient knotted cords. His great virtue is magnanimous, outwardly keeping the eight rules; his reverent caution is meticulous, inwardly ordering the four deportments. Looking upon China, his loving-kindness overflows; lodging his trust in the sacred documents, he spreads his grand vows. Constantly considering all dharmas to be non-existent and matter and self to be both empty, he reflected that for the true essentials nothing surpasses the Śākya scriptures. There was the Tripiṭaka Master Prabhākaramitra of Central India—in the Tang language known as Guangzhi ('Light of Wisdom')—who vowed to transmit the transformation of the Dharma without fearing hardship or peril. Journeying far across the Pamir Mountains, he came to visit China, traveling a route of more than forty thousand li. In the cyclical year gengxu, the first year of Zhenguan, he reached the imperial capital. Once he had been granted an audience, he was bestowed fine brocade garments. An imperial edict ordered the officials to select nineteen men of grand virtue, who were well-versed in both the three teachings and all ten categories, to translate in dialogue with Tripiṭaka Master Prabhākaramitra at Daxingshan Monastery. The śramaṇa Huicheng and others verified the meaning; the śramaṇa Xuanmo and others translated the language; the śramaṇas Huiming, Falin, and others held the brushes, received the dictates, and meticulously reviewed them, verifying terms, determining meanings, and rendering the full sense into finished text. Beginning in the third month of the third year of Zhenguan and ending in the fourth month of the fourth year, the work comprised ten fascicles and thirteen chapters, using one hundred and thirty sheets of paper, totaling sixty-three thousand eight hundred and eighty-two characters.' In the middle of winter of that year, the abbot of Shengguang Monastery, Sengzhen, received an imperial order to enter the palace and escort an image to Shengguang Monastery for veneration. In the first month of the fourth year, forty-nine men of great virtue from various monasteries practiced the path to celebrate the image for three weeks of seven days. When the days were complete, a feast of one thousand monks was held, and the princes and dukes all came to offer incense. Falin also presented to the Emperor a eulogy on the embroidered image, which said: 'Remembering afar: When the eight trees hid their light and the two rivers veiled their traces, King Prasenajit, longing in veneration, cast wax to pour his full body; King Udayana, displaying sincere devotion, melted gold to portray his complete form. Later, as the cyan spirit traversed south and the white horse came east, the image teaching flourished and numinous statues arose everywhere. Thus, with majestic demeanor, an image emerged from a private well; bending the sacred body, it bestowed bright pearls. Its light was brilliant at the Zhang Bridge; its radiance shone over the Hu river. It showed the sun worn by the Han ruler; it inspired the brushwork of the Jin sovereign. Sometimes looking back and treading over myriad mountains, or strolling and roaming beside the Dream Marsh, auspicious omens and fine portents have arisen from the beginning, yet none has ever sewn threads to depict the true form or leaned on empty space to pattern the sacred image. Our Emperor of the Great Tang previously planted the four grand vows and was long endowed with the five virtues. His divine deeds surpass Xuan[yuan] and Hao[tian]; his perfect governance outshines Cheng and Kang. His benevolent merit reaches the high heavens, and his power equals the Great Dao. Auspicious clouds cast colorful radiance, and the golden mirror contains the luster of the seven luminaries; auspicious birds display good fortune, and the jade candle harmonizes the vapors of the four seasons. Chiefs with white hair and tattooed bodies all sue for orders at the royal court; chieftains with pierced chests and hanging ears together offer tribute at the palace gates. Moreover, he fixes his mind on the eightfold path and devotes his intentions to the five vehicles; broadly exercising dāna, he diligently cultivates pure karma. Lamenting that the Sugata has long vanished into darkness, impossible to pursue, he ordered the Inner Palace to model the transmitted image, respectfully producing an embroidered image of Śākyamuni on a single hanging scroll, along with bodhisattvas, holy monks, vajra-wielders, and lions. Exhibiting divine elegance and exhausting all spiritual transformations, the six kinds of text were interwoven and the five colors displayed one another. Painting the full moon with paired needles, slender willows were entrusted to pristine hands. More exquisite than the brocades of Shu and more splendid than the silks of Yan, its billowing textures hold the glow of sevenfold brilliance, and its spreading patterns array the colors of nine splendors. The solar disk spits radiance, veiled by the silk of Zhou guests; the lotus eyes focus their luster, set forth by the threads of Qin maidens. The hundred-li pearl of Lord Yang yields in shame to these hundred blessings; the thousand-gold jade of Ziyu feels humbled before those thousand wheels. Its multicolored parasol seems on the verge of springing forth; its fluttering cloud-robes appear about to fly down. How could this be merely thought stretched to the limits of winding intestines? Truly, its craftsmanship exhausts the dark and subtle! Now in this year of gengyin, in the month of Taicu, at the season when the three origins commence and the time when the four beginnings unite in harmony, the imperial silk decree was sent down to the monastery of Shengguang, establishing a feast to celebrate the image, where forty-nine monks practiced the path for three weeks of seven days. The red grain of Da Qin provided meals for the storehouse of fragrance; the golden balm of King Mu of Zhou was presented as offerings to the King of Brahmā. The fields of merit of the four immeasurables are fully complete life after life; the virtuous retributions of the six causes are adorned age after age. May the precious calendar long endure even when the kalpa stone is ground to dust, and may the imperial foundation remain ever firm even when the mustard-seed city is emptied! Unable to bear my joyful celebration, I venture to present this eulogy.'