經律異相 26
English (machine translation) 26
- Language
- English
26.1
Compiled by the Liang śramaṇas Sengmin, Baochang, and others
26.2
1. King Hohei, due to his mother's illness, awakens to the Way and broadly practices giving
2. Two kings offer kāṣāyas to the Buddha and attain establishment on the stage of non-retrogression
3. King Sarvadā gives away and yields his kingdom, and afterwards returns to become king
4. King Rinan abandons the kingdom to study the Way and saves three kinds of life
5. King Sen’yo protects the Dharma and slays brāhmaṇas
6. King Puming recites the prajñā gāthā and escapes harm from King Kalmāṣapāda
7. King Ajātaśatru has his doubts resolved by Mañjuśrī and attains the patience of faith
8. King Daguangming first brings forth the mind of the Way
9. King Duofu serves a brāhmaṇa, while Prince Zengfu serves the Buddha: the two masters compete in magical arts
26.3
1. King Hohei, Due to His Mother's Illness, Awakens to the Way and Broadly Practices Giving
26.4
Formerly there was a king named Hohei who dwelt in a border region and had not witnessed holy transformation. He served non-Buddhists, and the entire kingdom held heterodox faith, slaughtering living beings for sacrifice. The king's mother fell bedridden with illness; they sought doctors and spirits, but years passed without her being cured. He again summoned two hundred brāhmaṇas from throughout the kingdom and told them: “My great lady has been distressingly ill for a long time, and I do not know why.” The brāhmaṇas said, “The stars and constellations are disordered and the yin and yang are not in harmony, hence it has come to this.” The king said, “What means should be employed to effect a recovery?” The brāhmaṇas said, “Outside the city on a level and pure place, perform suburban sacrifices to the four mountains, sun, moon, stars, and constellations. You must obtain one hundred domestic beasts of various different kinds, as well as a young child, and slaughter them to sacrifice to heaven. The king must personally lead his mother to kneel, bow, and plead for life; only then will she recover.” The king then complied with the order. Driving people, elephants, horses, cattle, sheep, and hundreds of insects and other kinds, their mournful cries along the road shook heaven and earth. Exiting through the eastern gate, they were about to proceed to the sacrificial altar to be slaughtered for the sacrifice to heaven. The Buddha harbored great compassion, pitying the king's obstinate folly, and immediately led his assembly of disciples toward that kingdom. The king saw the Buddha from afar, like the sun first rising, like the full moon, his marks of light radiant; among the people who saw him, none did not revere him. Those destined for sacrificial food all wished and sought for release. The king paid homage to the Buddha, joined his palms, knelt upright, and inquiring respectfully, explained: “My mother has been ill for a long time; fine physicians, spirits, and deities have all been exhausted without exception. Only now was I about to perform sacrifices of apology to the stars, constellations, four mountains, and five peaks, pleading for life on my mother’s behalf in hope of receiving recovery.” The Buddha said: “If one desires grains and food, one should practice plowing and planting; if one desires great wealth, one should practice giving; if one desires long life, one should practice great compassion; if one desires wisdom, one should practice study. Practicing these four matters, according to what one plants one reaps its fruit. Sacrifices are licentious and confused, taking the heterodox as correct; killing life to seek life is far from the path of life.” He then spoke a gāthā:
26.5
“Though a person live a hundred years
And diligently serve the spirits under heaven,
Using elephants and horses for sacrifice,
It is not as good as practicing a single act of compassion.”
26.6
The Buddha radiated brilliant light, brightly illuminating heaven and earth. None in the three bad destinies or the eight difficulties failed to rejoice. Hearing the Dharma and beholding the light, the king attained the track of the Path. Hearing it, the mother felt joy within her heart, and her affliction was eliminated. Ashamed, the two hundred brahmacārins repented of their errors and all became śramaṇas. (From the second fascicle of the Ci ren fajü piyu jing, and also from the first fascicle of the Dacheng fangbian jing.) Thenceforth, the king loved his people like children. The five grains ripened in abundance, and the whole kingdom was free of calamities or harm. Human lifespan reached eighty thousand years, and he compassionately protected sentient beings like Śakra Devānām Indra. Believing in and revering the Three Jewels, he constantly practiced the ten wholesome deeds, guiding and transforming all the people of the four garrisons. At that time, a poor man stole another's property. The owner caught him. The king asked, “Why did you steal?” He replied, “Being poor, I had no means of livelihood, and so I transgressed against the sacred law.” Sorrowful, the king said, “If the people are hungry, it is I who starve them; if they are cold, it is I who strip them naked. I have the power to make the kingdom free of poverty; the hardship or joy of the people depends solely on me.” Thereupon he issued a general amnesty throughout the kingdom. He opened the treasury of precious jewels to give alms to the hungry and cold. Carts, horses, broths, and medicines could be taken at will. Flying birds, walking beasts, and even down to insects and fish were all recipients of the king's giving. Later, the country was prosperous and the people were affluent, guiding one another in the Way. Even the names of the ten unwholesome deeds ceased to exist. Ghosts and spirits rejoiced and lent their aid, protecting his country. The five grains flourished in abundance, and every household had surplus wealth. They promptly obtained five blessings: first, long life; second, an even fairer complexion; third, virtue that shook the eight directions; fourth, freedom from illness and increase of strength; and fifth, peace and security within the borders, with hearts ever cheerful and glad. (From the third fascicle of the Duwuji ji jing.)
26.7
2. The King Attained the Stage of Non-Retrogression by Offering a Kāṣāya to the Buddha (second)
26.8
Anciently, a king offered a kāṣāya to a Buddha, thereby generating the anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi-citta. When that Buddha entered parinirvāṇa, his body cremated itself, yet the kāṣāya did not burn. They took the Buddha's śarīra and erected a stūpa; after the stūpa fell into ruin, the kāṣāya remained as before. Later, as stūpa worship gradually ceased and the kāṣāya accumulated many years, the Buddha Dharma was heard no more. On every fast day, the king, ministers, and countless people would make offerings to the kāṣāya with incense, flowers, banners, and canopies, handing it down successively and emulating one another without ever neglecting it. Later, a king thought to himself: “The former kings and I have reverently served this robe. What blessing will be gained? What kind of robe is this?” None knew. A merchant from the Buddha’s land arrived to conduct trade, and reported to the king, saying: “In my country there is a king named Śuddhodana. He had a holy son named Siddhārtha, who left home to cultivate the Way and is titled the Buddha. His body possesses the thirty-two marks, and he wears precisely this kind of robe.” Hearing this, the king was delighted, and wished to send an envoy to invite the Buddha. The merchant said: “If you would invite him, simply burn incense and invite him while paying homage from afar.” He thereupon burned incense and made invitation to the Buddha: “May the Buddha tomorrow deign to exert his august presence.” The smoke of the incense sped toward the Buddha and circled him seven times, transforming in the sky into a canopy of flowers. At that moment the Buddha smiled; rays of light from his mouth illuminated countless realms, ascended into the sky, merged with the incense, formed a floral canopy together, and both returned, entering the crown of his head. Ānanda said to the Buddha: “From which direction does this smoke of incense come?” The Buddha told Ānanda in full. At that moment the great trichiliocosm quaked violently. The gates of the city in that country all turned to gold. Harp-like instruments sounded of their own accord without being plucked. The pearl rings of women all made music. Trees withered for a hundred years grew anew. Greatly terrified, the king cried out, asking his people: “What disaster or anomaly is this, that makes my country quake?” The merchant said to the king: “Wherever the Bhagavat arrives, good portents first appear; it is all brought about by the king's merit.” The king then leaped for joy. He proclaimed to his ministers and people that they should burn incense to welcome the Buddha. The king made a vow in his heart, saying: “May I become like the arhat who is the Bhagavat’s attendant.” The king presented the kāṣāya to the Bhagavat. The Buddha could not bear its weight; it sank into the ground, descending through countless Buddha realms below, where it hung suspended in mid-air. A bodhisattva of that lower realm said to the Buddha of that realm: “From where does this kāṣāya come, that it does not fall to the ground?” The Buddha said: “In an instant, there will naturally be a response.” Śākyamuni Buddha directed Maudgalyāyana, Śāriputra, and five hundred other disciples to go fetch the kāṣāya. Each exhausted his supernormal powers, yet none could bring it. The Buddha told Mañjuśrī to go fetch it, but he too could not lift it. The Buddha said: “In a past life, a man offered this kāṣāya to a former Buddha, generating the aspiration for the Great Path. After countless lifetimes, it returned to this king's possession. Now he offers it to me again, but along the way he wished to realize the fruit and vowed to become a śrāvaka. For this reason, the kāṣāya cannot be borne. Why is this? When the previous aspiration was lofty, the kāṣāya was light; because the later intent was focused on the small, the kāṣāya became heavy.” Hearing the Buddha's instruction, the king immediately repented: “As a king, I do not wish the people of my kingdom to aspire to my position; if they harbored such an intention, I would call it treason. The Buddha is the Bhagavat, and therefore I did not dare aspire to Buddhahood.” The king and his ministers and subjects all generated the anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi-citta. The kāṣāya spontaneously sprang forth from the earth. The king raised the kāṣāya and held it up to present to the Buddha, saying: “May it be for the sake of all squirming things in the ten directions.” Accepting this kāṣāya, the Buddha then expounded the sūtras for them. The king and his ministers all attained the stage of non-retrogression. (From the Zhefu luohan jing.)
26.9
3. King Sarvadā Gave Alms, Yielded His Kingdom, and Later Reclaimed Kingship (third)
26.10
In a kalpa of the past, there was a great king named Sarvadā (in the Liang language, “All-Giving”). He gave to all śramaṇas and all people, never refusing their wishes. In another kingdom, a brāhmaṇa youth lost his father when young, living with his mother, elder sister, and younger brother in great poverty. His mother said, “Now we are impoverished with no means of support. You may go to King Sarvadā and beg.” The son told his mother, “I do not yet possess any knowledge. I should first study, and only then proceed.” The mother would not permit it. The son first borrowed one ounce of gold, which could provide for a year's food, and then left home to study; after one year, he returned. Seeing him, the mother welcomed him and asked, “Did you go to King Sarvadā?” The son told his mother again, “My learning is not yet mastered; I must study further.” The mother said, “The previous gold is already exhausted.” He then went back to the creditor from whom he had borrowed before and borrowed another ounce of gold. The creditor said to the boy, “You have not yet repaid me the gold you took before. If you want more, only when you bring your mother and sister as pledges on the contract will you get it; if by the due date you have not settled it, they will become my male and female slaves.” He made the contract, took the gold, returned to hand it over to his mother, and once more left home to study. After another year had passed, his knowledge was roughly complete, and he wished to return and visit King Sarvadā. On the road, he was seized by the creditor, who brought him along with his mother, sister, and younger brother and put them in chains. The brāhmaṇa youth said to the creditor, “Holding me bound now will be of no benefit all year round. It would be better to release me so that I may go to King Sarvadā. When I beg and receive goods, I will repay you.” The creditor let him go. At that time, a foreign country raised an army to capture King Sarvadā. Hearing of this, the king thought to himself: “Human life is short and fragile, bound to end in impermanence. From youth I have loved giving; being compassionate and patient, I harm none, and I do not wish to resist that country. Why so? Simply do not make preparations, and do not be afraid. Just set out properly, welcome them, pay homage, and serve them respectfully; accept their commands, placing them above me.” The ministers said to the king, “The other country has entered our borders; why do we make no preparations?” The king remained silent and did not reply. This happened up to three times. The king said, “There is no need to resist; follow my previous words.” The ministers obeyed his decree. The king said, “Very well. Let each keep his household secure, and take care not to cause disturbance.” In the middle of the night, the king removed his seal and ribbon, silently fled, and departed. That king entered the country, assumed the throne, and immediately posted a reward seeking Sarvadā, with a very heavy bounty. Having left his kingdom and traveled more than five hundred li, the king saw a brāhmaṇa youth from afar, and the two met. The king asked, “Where do you wish to go now?” He replied, “I wish to go to Sarvadā. I lost my father in youth, and my family is extremely destitute. I used my mother, elder sister, and younger brother as security for a debt; I wish to beg of him to ransom them and support myself.” The king said, “I am Sarvadā. Another king desired my kingdom, and not wishing to harm anyone, I fled from him.” The brāhmaṇa youth threw himself upon the ground and wept bitterly, unable to contain himself. The king consoled and exhorted him to rise, telling him he need not weep any more: “What you seek, I will give you now.” The brāhmaṇa youth said, “The king has now lost his country. What do you have with which to aid my begging?” The king replied, “The king of that country has offered a very heavy reward for me. You may now cut off my head and take it to him; whatever you seek will be obtained.” Thereupon the brāhmaṇa youth spoke a verse:
26.11
“In this world, those who kill father or mother
Fall into hell when their lives end.
If I were now to harm the king,
The crime would be identical and no different.
I truly cannot bear now
To do evil to the great king;
I would rather my own life come to an end
Than ever harbor a rebellious thought.”
26.12
King Sarvadā spoke again to the brāhmaṇa youth: “If you do not wish to take my head, you may cut off my nose and ears and deliver them, for I will no longer be fit to be king.” The brāhmaṇa youth said, “I cannot bear that either.” The king said, “To bind and deliver me will also do.” The brāhmaṇa youth said, “How do I know that that king will do you no harm?” Thereupon the king and the brāhmaṇa youth returned together. When they approached within twenty-odd li of the kingdom, the king said, “You may bind me.” The brāhmaṇa youth then bound the king. The men, women, young, and old of the entire kingdom all wept and collapsed in grief, worse than if they had lost their own parents, and went before the palace gate. The ministers entered and said to the king, “The one sought in the previous bounty, Sarvadā, has been bound and brought by a brāhmaṇa youth; he is now at the palace gate.” That king immediately said, “Bring him in at once.” When all the ministers and people saw King Sarvadā, there were none who did not prostrate themselves on the ground and weep. The king who had seized the throne also shed tears and asked the ministers, “Why are you all weeping?” The ministers said, “We see that King Sarvadā abandoned his kingdom to you, O King, and furthermore has offered his own body to the brāhmaṇa youth without regret for what he has done; that is why we weep.” Hearing each of the ministers and people speak thus, that king who had seized the throne fell to the ground and wept bitterly, unable to control himself. He then asked the brāhmaṇa youth, “Where did you originally capture this king?” The brāhmaṇa youth answered the king, saying: “I was truly destitute, and pawned my mother, sister, and brother as security for a debt. Hearing that King Sarvadā loved giving exceedingly, I came from afar wishing to beg of him to redeem my mother, sister, and brother so that we could sustain ourselves. Meeting him on the road, we inquired after each other's welfare. King Sarvadā told me: ‘I have now abandoned my kingdom to another king and have nothing with which to give you alms.’ At that time, I was distressed, grieved, and desperate. Then King Sarvadā instructed me to cut off his head and bring it to you, O King. At that time I did not dare. He then told me to cut off his nose and ears and bring them, but again I refused. Finally, we returned together and he had me bind and bring him. What you ask of the beginning and end is truly like this.” Upon hearing what the brāhmaṇa youth said, that king who had seized the throne threw himself upon the ground, shedding tears. As he spoke, he ordered the ministers: “Quickly untie the king's bonds, bathe him, clothe him, invest him with his seal and ribbon, and reinstate him as king!” King Sarvadā then took the high seat and governed the country as before. Thereupon that king knelt upright with palms joined, praising him and speaking a verse:
26.13
“While in my own kingdom,
I heard from afar of the Great King's virtue;
Now having arrived here,
Beholding Your Honor surpasses what I heard.
Lofty is your accumulated merit,
Like a mountain of pure gold;
Its strength is firm like this,
Such that none can shake it.
Now seeing what the king has done,
In the world it is truly without match.
I wish to return your kingdom,
And also offer the territory where I dwell;
I wish to return to my own land,
To pay respects and perform the rites of a subject,
Never again daring to be arrogant,
Serving the king like an exalted deva.”
26.14
The Buddha said: “King Sarvadā of that time was myself. The king of that other country was Śāriputra. The brāhmaṇa youth was Devadatta. The fulfillment of my six pāramitās, the thirty-two marks, the ten powers, and the perfection of all merits were all through Devadatta's kindness. Devadatta was my good friend (kalyāṇamitra), and also my good teacher.” (From the Fo shuo yiqieshizhu suoxing liudu tanpoluomi jing.)
26.15
4. King Rinanguo Abandons His Country to Learn the Path and Saves Three Kinds of Lives
26.16
Formerly, in the country of Motianluo, there was a king named Rinanguo. His learning penetrated divine illumination, and there was nothing obscure he did not perceive. Realising the impermanence of the world, he said: “My body will decay and become the world’s dung and loam; what kingdom can be preserved?” Abandoning glory and discarding pleasure, he put on the supreme robe of the Dharma. Taking a single bowl of food as sufficiency, he received the precepts of a śramaṇa and dwelt in the mountain forests, accumulating thirty years there. Beside a tree there was a pit thirty fathoms deep. At that time, a hunter galloped after a deer and fell into the pit. There were also a crow and a snake that fell in alarm at the same time, their bodies all injured. Looking up to heaven, they cried out in sorrow with the sounds of utter helplessness. The practitioner felt sorrowful and illuminated them with a torch; tears streamed down his neck. Approaching the pit, he announced: “Do not grieve; I shall pull you out.” He then lowered a long rope; taking hold of it or biting it, they were thus completely saved. At once they thanked him, saying: “Receiving the practitioner's boundless benevolence and kindness, we have been able to see the light of day. We wish for the rest of our lives to supply whatever you lack.” The practitioner said: “I was once a king; my kingdom was vast, its people numerous, and its palace treasures and court ladies were supreme among all nations. Whatever I wished was answered immediately; what request was not attained? But I regarded the kingdom as an enemy and the six sense-objects as six swords constantly cutting down my body, and six arrows shooting at my form. Because of these six evils, one passes through the three evil destinies, cruel and unbearable; I loathed them greatly. Therefore I abandoned my kingdom to become a śramaṇa, wishing to attain the Buddha path and transform all living beings to return to their original source. How could it be merely for the three lives of you all? Return each to your former dwellings, see your kin, and cause them to take the three refuges, not defying the Buddha's teachings.” The hunter said: “I have lived in the world for years and have often seen good people, but none like the Buddha's disciples, who consider others to rescue the multitude and hide away without making a name for themselves. If the practitioner ever lacks anything, please come to my house to beg for a modest offering.” The crow said: “My name is Bo. If the practitioner is in difficulty, please call my name; I will race to you.” The snake said: “My name is Chang. If the practitioner is in distress, please call my name; I will surely come to repay your kindness.” Having taken their leave, they each withdrew. On another day, the practitioner went to the hunter's house. Seeing him from afar, the hunter said to his wife: “That inauspicious person is coming. I instruct you: prepare the food slowly. He does not eat past midday.” When the wife saw the practitioner, she assumed an expression of deference, deceitfully detaining him by setting out food and engaging in vain conversation until midday had passed. The practitioner withdrew and returned to the mountain. Seeing the crow, he called its name, saying: “Bo.” The crow asked: “Where do you come from?” He replied: “I have come from the hunter’s place.” The crow said: “Have you already eaten?” He said: “His preparation was not yet ready, and the sun had already passed midday, so without waiting, I withdrew.” The crow said: “An ominous creature is hard to rescue with compassion; he is a treacherous man who violates benevolence and turns his back on kindness. I have no food and drink to offer you; please keep your mind at ease and sit. In a moment I will fly to the country of Pañca.” Seeing that among the headdress ornaments of the king's sleeping queen there was a luminous pearl, the crow took it in its beak, returned, and offered it to the practitioner. When the queen awoke, she searched for it in vain, and immediately reported it to the king. The king decreed to his officials and people: “Whoever finds it will be rewarded with a thousand catties each of gold and silver, and a thousand head each of oxen and horses. Anyone who finds it and does not present it to the court shall be punished with the extermination of his clan.” The practitioner gave it to the hunter. The hunter bound and tortured him, reporting to the king: “Where did you obtain this?” The practitioner reflected deeply: “If I speak of its master, surely every crow in the kingdom will die; this is not the way of a disciple of the Buddha.” Silently, he endured interrogation and beatings with rods numbering in the thousands. From the beginning, he bore no resentment toward the king, nor did he harbor enmity toward the hunter. He made a vow of compassion: “May I attain buddhahood and deliver the multitude of sufferers!” The king buried the practitioner with only his head exposed, intending to execute him the next day. The practitioner then called the snake, saying: “Chang.” The snake said: “In all the world, no one knows my name except the practitioner. Calling out my name aloud must have a reason.” Hurrying forth, it saw the practitioner and asked: “How did this come about?” The practitioner then related the reason for it. Weeping tears, the snake said: “The practitioner is benevolent and kind, yet between heaven and earth he still meets with calamity. How much more so for the unprincipled—who will protect them? I will enter the palace and bite the crown prince to death.” The snake gave divine medicine to the practitioner, which cured him as soon as it was applied. At night, the snake entered the palace and bit the crown prince, who immediately expired. Keeping the corpse for three days, the king decreed: “If anyone can revive the crown prince, I will divide the kingdom to rule with him.” They carried the prince through the mountains and passed by the practitioner. The practitioner said: “I can revive him.” Hearing this, the king was overjoyed. The practitioner applied the medicine to the crown prince's body. Suddenly the prince spoke, saying: “Why am I here?” His attendants explained the reason in full. The crown prince returned to the palace; great and small danced with joy, and the king offered to divide the kingdom to reward him. The practitioner accepted nothing at all. The king realised, saying: “If he will not accept a division of the kingdom, how could he have stolen?” He asked how the pearl had been obtained, and why, being of such noble conduct, he had suddenly suffered this distress. The practitioner set forth the matter from beginning to end. Tears streamed down the king’s face. He said to the hunter: “You have performed a service for the kingdom; summon all of your nine generations of relatives, for I wish to bestow a great reward upon them.” The relatives, young and old, all came to the palace gate. The king said: “Violating benevolence and turning his back on kindness, he is the ringleader of evil!” and had them all put to death. The practitioner entered the mountain to learn the path, energetic without wearying, and at the end of his life was reborn in heaven. The practitioner of that time was myself; the crow was Śāriputra; the snake was Ānanda; the hunter was Devadatta; and the wife was the woman who carried the bowl (from the Sūtra of the King of the Country of Mo).
26.17
5. King Xianyu Protects the Dharma and Kills Brāhmaṇas
26.18
Formerly, in Jambudvīpa, there was a great king named Xianyu. He loved and revered the Mahāyāna, his mind was purely wholesome, and he had no harshness, malice, jealousy, or stinginess. His mouth constantly spoke pleasant words and wholesome words, his person constantly protected the poor and destitute, and he practised giving and vigor without cessation. At that time there were in the world no Buddhas, śrāvakas, or pratyekabuddhas. The king loved and delighted in the Mahāyāna Vaipulya sūtras, and for twelve years served brāhmaṇas, supplying all they needed. When the twelve years had passed and the gifts and provisions were concluded, he spoke these words: “Masters, you should now produce the mind of bodhi.” The brāhmaṇas said: “Great King, the nature of bodhi does not exist; the Mahāyāna scriptures are also like this. Great King, why would you wish to make people equivalent to empty space?” When the king heard the brāhmaṇas slandering the Vaipulya scriptures, he severed their lives on the spot. Because of this cause and condition, he did not fall into hell. Upholding and sustaining the Mahāyāna scriptures possesses such power (from the Mahāparinirvāṇa-sūtra, fascicle 11).
26.19
6. King Puming Recites the Prajñā Verses and Escapes Harm by King Kalmāṣapāda
26.20
Formerly, the king of the country of Tianluo had a crown prince who wished to ascend the royal throne, named Kalmāṣapāda. Having received the teaching of the non-Buddhist master Luoduo, he was told to take the heads of one thousand kings to sacrifice to the mound deity, after which he could ascend the royal throne. Having already obtained 999 kings and lacking just one king, he traveled ten thousand li to the north and captured King Puming. Puming addressed Kalmāṣapāda, saying: “I request that you allow me one day to feed śramaṇas and pay homage to the Three Jewels.” Kalmāṣapāda granted this. Puming, relying on the method of the seven past Buddhas, had the eight thousand verses of the Prajñāpāramitā expounded during the two periods of the day. When it was finished, the foremost Dharma master spoke a verse for the king:
26.21
"When the kalpa-burning ends, / heaven and earth blaze thoroughly; / Sumeru and the vast oceans / all turn to ashes and cinders. / When the merit of devas and dragons is exhausted, / they wither and perish therein. / When even the two principles perish, / what constancy is there in a kingdom? / Birth, old age, sickness, and death / revolve without limit; / things run contrary to wishes, / and grief and sorrow cause harm. / Desires are deep and disasters heavy, / sores and tumors without end; / the three realms are all suffering, / what reliance is there in a kingdom? / Being fundamentally originates from non-being; / causes and conditions bring all into existence. / What flourishes must decline; / what is real must become empty. / The teeming sentient beings / all abide as if in an illusion; / sounds and echoes are both empty, / and kingdoms are also like this. / The conscious spirit is formless, / falsely mounting the four serpents; / taking the jewel elephant of ignorance / as a chariot of pleasure. / Form has no constant master; / the spirit has no constant home. / When even form and spirit part, / how can there be a kingdom?"
26.22
At that time, King Puming and his retinue attained the emptiness of the Dharma eye. The king personally realised the samādhi of space-equality, and upon hearing the Dharma, awakened and understood. Returning to the country of Tianluo to the place of King Kalmāṣapāda, he addressed the 999 kings, saying: “The time to meet death has arrived; each person should recite the Prajñāpāramitā verses of the benevolent kings from the seven past Buddhas.” Kalmāṣapāda asked: “What Dharma do you recite?” King Puming then answered the king with the verses above. Hearing this Dharma, the king attained the samādhi of emptiness. The 999 kings, having also heard the Dharma, all realised the samādhi of the three gates of liberation. Then King Kalmāṣapāda rejoiced exceedingly, and addressed the kings, saying: “I was misled by an erroneous non-Buddhist master; it was not your fault. Return, all of you, to your own countries, and let each invite Dharma masters to expound the collection of names, phrases, and syllables of the Prajñāpāramitā.” Then King Kalmāṣapāda entrusted the kingdom to his younger brother, left home to pursue the path, and realised the forbearance of the non-arising of dharmas, as expounded in the Stage of the Ten Kings (from the Benevolent Kings Prajñā Sūtra).
26.23
7. King Ajātaśatru Resolves Doubts through Mañjuśrī and Obtains Faith-Forbearance
26.24
King Ajātaśatru addressed Mañjuśrī (the Pu shou tongzhen jing has: addressed Pu shou tongzhen [Samantamukha Kumārabhūta]): 'I only pray that you will show favor, and tomorrow bend your virtue to visit my palace for a meal.' He answered: 'Enough has already been done to constitute an offering. Furthermore, the Buddha's Dharma does not exist for the sake of clothing or food.' The king asked: 'With what should it be offered?' He answered: 'If one enters deeply into the subtle and profound, examines the matter truly, is without contamination, without attachment, without doubt, and without fear or hesitation; and further, contemplates all phenomena while neither contemplating existence nor non-existence, nor contemplating the end of past, future, and present; and further, does not contemplate all that can be seen—then all attain favor.' The king said: 'What you say is entirely what the Dharma conveys; there is no difference. It is solely on account of this [physical] body that you should show favor and accept the invitation.' Mañjuśrī said: 'Cease for now. The practitioner does not act for the sake of this—whether food or drink. If the king does not contemplate the existence of a self, life, or person, then by contemplating this, he has already received favor.' (This exchange goes back and forth at great length; much of the text is omitted.) The king rejoiced greatly and asked: 'How many people are there?' Śāriputra said: 'Five hundred. You may bid them all eat at your palace.' The king returned to the city and ordered the preparation of foods of a hundred flavors to furnish his palace hall. He set up banners, pennants, canopies, and curtains, spread flowers upon the ground, and perfumed it all with incense. He arranged five hundred high couches. The palaces, streets, and markets were all swept clean, strewn with flowers and incense, and the people came out to welcome them. Mañjuśrī, in the time it takes to bend an arm, reached the east, crossing eighty-two thousand Buddha-lands. That Buddha's title is Chang Mingwen (Ever-Renowned), his name is Weijing Shou (Vimalapraśāntamukha), and he is presently existing in the world. He was accompanied by a host of bodhisattvas, with no other path. In that land the wheel of the non-retrogressing Dharma (avaivartika-dharmacakra) is constantly turned, and the sound of the Three Jewels constantly issues forth. Mañjuśrī addressed the Buddha: 'I pray that all the bodhisattvas may be sent to the Sahā world to attend King Ajātaśatru's meal.' The Buddha said: 'Those who wish to go may go.' (From the first fascicle of the Ajātaśatru-rāja-sūtra.) The king heard that Mañjuśrī was about to arrive accompanied by 22,500 bodhisattvas and 500 monks (the Pu shou tongzhen jing says twenty-two thousand bodhisattvas and all the śrāvakas). The king thought to himself: 'I have prepared provisions for only five hundred people; how can I manage to provide for them?' Thereupon, a heavenly king named Xiuxixin (Resting Mind) and an honored yakṣa named Jinbī came together to meet the king, saying: 'Do not be alarmed, do not be panicked, do not consider it difficult.' He asked: 'How is it not difficult?' They replied: 'Mañjuśrī has cultivated upāyakauśalya (skill-in-means) and boundless wisdom, and arrives fully endowed with the light of merit. He can take a single portion of food, and it is equal to Mañjuśrī's [own vastness]. If all the people of a trichiliocosm were to seek food and drink, he could satisfy them all and the food would not be exhausted. Why worry about these twenty-three thousand people? Mañjuśrī's merit is exceedingly exalted and inexhaustible.' The king leapt for joy, brought his musicians, went out in person to welcome them, and entered the palace together with them. There was a bodhisattva named Pushi Xijian (Universal Vision Who Sees All). Mañjuśrī commanded Samathārutha to adorn and prepare the place so that it could accommodate all who were coming. The bodhisattva received the instruction, looked around in the four directions, and immediately everything was prepared. There was another bodhisattva named Falai Zede (Obtained as the Dharma Comes), who was commanded to prepare couches. In the snap of a finger, there were twenty-three thousand couches and seats, decorated in diverse ways. The bodhisattvas and śrāvakas all took their seats. The king addressed Mañjuśrī: 'The provisions I have made are very few. I pray you will bear with me for a moment while I prepare more.' He replied: 'What has been prepared is already sufficient; do not trouble your mind any further.' The Heavenly King Vaiśravaṇa, along with his family, servants, and attendants, all came to pay homage and reverently attended to the left and right. Śakra Devānām Indra, together with his chief consort named Shouye and heavenly maidens, all held famous fragrances to make offerings, scattering them over Mañjuśrī and the host of bodhisattvas and monks. The bodhisattvas and others were not moved by the flowers and perfumes. Brahmā transformed himself into a youthful brāhmaṇa, exquisite and handsome, who stood to Mañjuśrī's right, attending him and fanning him. The sons of Brahmā all fanned the bodhisattvas and monks. The Nāga King Anavatapta, remaining invisible in the sky, held strings of pearls hanging down like banners. Fragrant water of eight flavors flowed down along the strings. In front of each person hung pearls, with water issuing from them to supply all necessities. The king thought: 'Those who have assembled do not hold alms-bowls; from what vessels will they eat?' At that time, Mañjuśrī said: 'Bodhisattvas do not carry bowls as they travel; at the place where they eat, bowls naturally come into their hands.' When the bodhisattvas thought of bowls, the bowls spontaneously flew through the air, arriving in ranks. King Anavatapta washed them all clean and filled them to the brim with water. The nāga maidens held up the twenty-three thousand bowls and placed them into the hands of each bodhisattva. Mañjuśrī said to the king: 'You may distribute the food; it will reach everywhere without diminishing.' Then Mañjuśrī asked: 'Is it finished now?' He answered: 'It is not finished. The reason it is not yet finished is that there is still doubt.' When the bodhisattvas had finished eating, they threw their bowls into the empty sky, where they remained hovering in rows, neither falling to the ground nor shaking. The king again asked: 'How do the bowls abide, and upon what do they rely?' Mañjuśrī said: 'The abiding of these bowls is like the abiding of the king's doubts.' The king said again: 'These bowls have no place of abiding; they are not on the ground, they rely on nothing, and they have no location.' Mañjuśrī said: 'Just as the king's doubts have no abiding, all phenomena are like these bowls: they neither abide nor fall.' The meal being concluded, the king took a seat and addressed Mañjuśrī: 'I pray you will resolve my doubts.' He replied: 'Even Buddhas equal to the sands of the Ganges could not explain these doubts for the king.' The king was terrified and fell from his seat like a great falling tree. Mahākāśyapa said to the king: 'Do not be afraid, do not be terrified. Why? Mañjuśrī has entered profound upāyakauśalya. Inquire gently.' The king said: 'Buddhas equal to the sands of the Ganges cannot explain what I doubt.' Mañjuśrī said: 'Do you, worthy one, maintain that it can be seen from mental causes and conditions?' The king said: 'One does not employ mental arising to see the Buddha; it is not through [the duality of] saṃsāra and liberation—taking these two things—that one becomes a Buddha. My doubts cannot be explained by Buddhas equal to the sands of the Ganges. Why? If someone were to say, "Can one defile empty space with dust?" could they do it?' 'No.' 'If someone were to say, "Can one remove the defilements of empty space?" could they certainly remove them?' The king said: 'They could not.' Mañjuśrī said: 'The Buddhas know that all phenomena are like empty space. Why? Because they are free from an origin, nor do they see phenomena as having an origin. If someone were to speak of it, the king's doubts are not something that Buddhas equal to the sands of the Ganges could explain.' At that moment, the king attained receptive patience (kṣānti). Leaping with joy, he said: 'Excellent, excellent! You have resolved my doubts.' Mañjuśrī said: 'This is a great doubt. In the Dharma just explained, phenomena have no origin; from whence could doubt arise?' The king said: 'Through this great favor, I have found a slight respite. Now, when my life ends, I have no fear of not reaching nirvāṇa.' Mañjuśrī said: 'What the king hopes for has no origin. Why? Because phenomena are originally nirvāṇa, and therefore nothing is produced.' The king then rose from his seat, took fine cotton cloth worth hundreds of thousands of millions, and draped it around Mañjuśrī's body. Mañjuśrī's body became invisible, and the cotton cloth hung in empty space. The king heard speech but could not see his form; hearing the speech was like seeing him. The king himself saw his doubts and thereby saw all phenomena as they are seen. A voice in the sky addressed what the king saw, and he then gave the cloth to it. The bodhisattva seated next was named De Shangyuan (Attainer of the Highest Vow). The king again held up this cloth, wishing to present it to him. De Shangyuan said: 'As for those who seek liberation and nirvāṇa, I do not accept anything from them, nor do I accept what belongs to ordinary people. Why? Because ordinary people are entangled in worldly matters, I do not accept it. Nor do I accept anything from those seeking the state of an arhat or pratyekabuddha. The giver has no dual mind, and the receiver also has no dual mind; therefore it is said that what is received transcends liberation.' The king then wished to place the robe upon the bodhisattva, but suddenly he became invisible and his whereabouts were no longer known. He only heard his voice, without seeing his form, saying: 'Offer the robe to the body that is manifested.' In this manner, one by one, he offered the robe, and all became invisible; even the couches, tables, and seats all became invisible. He only heard their voices, saying: 'Offer the robe to what is manifested.' Even the five hundred śrāvakas would not accept it. The king thought deeply: 'The bodhisattvas and the saṃgha of monks are all gone. To whom shall I give my robe?' He went to give it to his chief queen in the inner palace, but the queen also became invisible at that time. The king then attained samādhi, seeing no forms, seeing neither woman nor man, and seeing neither walls, trees, rooms, houses, nor city fortifications. He still retained a lingering thought, thinking: 'There is my body.' All perception of forms ceased. Again he heard the voice: 'Just as everything seen is observed, you should observe your own doubts. As your doubts are seen, all phenomena are seen likewise.' He then took the robe, intending to put it back on himself, but he could see neither his body nor his mind. (Explaining this state of forgetting marks is extensive; much of the text is omitted.) Mañjuśrī said: 'Have you ever heard the Buddha say that those who commit heinous crimes will enter the great hells?' The king said: 'I have.' 'Do you yourself know whether you will enter hell?' The king said: 'In the Buddha's attainment of Dharma, is there any dharma that ascends to heaven or enters hell? Is there any dharma that peacefully reaches nirvāṇa?' Mañjuśrī said: 'There is none.' The king said: 'I know that all phenomena are empty. Why? Hells, ascending to heaven, and peace are all likewise empty. Phenomena cannot be destroyed; therefore, one enters the Dharmakāya. In the Dharmakāya, there is neither heaven nor the human realm, neither hells, beasts, nor pretas.' The king's various heinous offenses having been purified, he attained this receptive patience. The king said: 'All phenomena are completely pure, without any defilement.' When these words were spoken, he swiftly attained the receptive patience of faith (From the lower fascicle of the Ajātaśatru-rāja-sūtra, and also from the second and third fascicles of the Puchao sanmei jing [Ajātaśatrukaukṛtyavinodana-sūtra]).
26.25
8. King Daguangming (Mahāprabhāsa) First Generates the Mind Directed toward Bodhi
26.26
Ānanda, knowing what the assembly was thinking, went forward and addressed the Buddha, saying, "World-Honoured One, through what causes and conditions did you first bring forth the resolve for the Way?"
The Buddha said, "Countless kalpas ago in the past, there was a great king in this Jambudvīpa named Mahāprabhāsa (Great Brightness), who was blessed with merit, virtue, and wisdom. At that time, the king of a neighbouring state was on close and affectionate terms with him, and they regularly sent each other the treasures of their realms as gifts. Later, that neighbouring king caught two elephants in a hunt: white as crystal, their seven points touching the ground, adorned with assorted jewels—the supreme treasures of the world. He dispatched an emissary to deliver them.
"When King Mahāprabhāsa saw the elephants, his heart was delighted, and he entrusted them to the elephant trainer Sañjaya. Sañjaya obeyed the royal decree, and before long he had tamed and trained them. He went to inform the king, saying, 'The elephants are now trained; may the king inspect and test them.' The king assembled his ministers to inspect and test the elephants. Once the great assembly had gathered, the king mounted the elephant for the first time and rode out of the city for recreation. The elephant was vigorous and fierce; seeing a herd of elephants in a lotus pond, it rushed off in pursuit of a female elephant, going straight into a deep forest.
"At that time, the king's body was cut and bleeding, and he thought to himself that he would surely die. Seizing a tree branch with his hands, the elephant dashed away while the king stayed behind. Descending from the tree and sitting on the ground, he suffered great distress. The elephant trainer prostrated, touching his head to the ground, and said, 'May the king not be distressed. When the elephant's lustful desire abates and it tires of filth and weeds, longing for fine food and drink, it will return on its own.' The king answered him, 'I have no further use for it.'
"Later, the elephant indeed returned. The elephant trainer said to the king, 'The elephant has now come back.' The king said, 'I need neither you nor the elephant.' Sañjaya petitioned the king, 'If the king has no use for it, I only request that you witness my method of training elephants.' The king assented to it. He immediately had the trainer fashion seven iron pellets and heat them red-hot. After making them, the trainer thought to himself, 'If the elephant swallows these pellets, it must surely die; the king might later regret it.' He addressed the king, 'Great King, this precious white elephant can only be obtained by a wheel-turning king. Now it has committed only a minor fault; it should not be destroyed.' The king's fury blazed, and he said, 'Be gone!'
"The elephant trainer said to the elephant, 'Swallow these iron pellets! If you do not swallow them, I will shatter your skull with an iron hook.' The elephant knew his intention: 'I would rather swallow these hot pellets and die.' It bent its knees toward the king and shed tears, hoping for rescue. The king glared in anger, and Sañjaya told the elephant, 'Why do you not swallow the pellets?' The elephant then took the pellets, put them into its mouth, and swallowed them. Entering its belly, they scorched and melted its entrails, passing straight through, and it died. When the pellets fell to the ground, they were still red-hot.
"Seeing this, the king felt remorse. He then asked Sañjaya, 'Your training of elephants is such as this; why could you not control it in the forest?'
"At that time, a deva of the Śuddhāvāsa heaven, knowing that King Mahāprabhāsa ought to generate the bodhicitta, caused the elephant trainer to kneel and reply to the king, 'I can only tame the body; I cannot tame the mind. Only a Buddha can tame the mind.' The king asked, 'From what lineage and clan is a Buddha born?' He answered, 'He is born from two kinds of clans: first, wisdom; second, great compassion. Through diligently practicing six matters—namely, the six pāramitās—when merit and wisdom are both completely fulfilled, one is called a Buddha.'
"Hearing this, the king leaped with joy. He immediately arose, bathed, put on fresh clothes, and made obeisance in the four directions. Generating great compassion toward all sentient beings, he burned incense and made a vow: 'May whatever merit and virtue I have be dedicated to the Buddha Way! Having tamed my own mind, I shall also tame all sentient beings. If it will benefit any in the hells, I shall enter those hells, never abandoning the bodhicitta.' When he had made this vow, the earth shook in six ways, and natural music sounded in the mountains, the great seas, and the empty sky."
The Buddha told the monks, "The white elephant that swallowed the iron pellets at that time was Nanda; the elephant trainer of that time was Śāriputra; and King Mahāprabhāsa was myself. At that time, seeing the elephant obediently submit, I first brought forth the resolve for the Way." (Extracted from the third fascicle of the *Damamūka-nidāna-sūtra*).
26.27
9. King Bahupuṇya Serves the Brahmacārins; Prince Vardhamāna Serves the Buddha; The Two Masters Contend in Arts
26.28
Formerly, there was a king named Bahupuṇya (Abundant Merit), and his crown prince was named Vardhamāna (Increasing Merit). The king revered the six heterodox masters, while his son served the Buddha. At that time, there were no śramaṇas in the world, and a single white-robed layman served as their leading teacher. Five hundred non-Buddhists envied his reputation and virtue, and they told the king, "The state follows two teachings, so people's minds are not unified. We wish each to display extraordinary arts against the Buddha's master; whoever is inferior shall be bound as a slave in service." The king consented.
The non-Buddhists set a date and made a pact with the master, and before the king they each were to test their skills. The brahmacārins were skilled in archery, so they went into the mountains. All five hundred men shot large deer, each piercing the left eye, and carried them back to compete in skill. The virtuous layman went into the mountains and intently meditated on the Buddha, seeking majestic spiritual aid to make the Great Way shine forth. A five-coloured deer leaped up out of the earth, and he joyfully brought it home.
The non-Buddhists learned of this, waited for the layman to go out, and went to tell his wife, "Your husband has forsaken the household to act as a śramaṇa, yet solely because of this deer he has ruined your household rules." Hearing this, the wife became angry and gave the deer to them. When the layman returned and did not see the deer, he asked where it was. The wife said, "That inauspicious thing has now been lost." The husband was deeply grieved; he returned to the mountains and sincerely repented. Thereupon a divine bright-moon pearl suddenly emerged from the earth. Holding this pearl, he observed the brahmacārins going out, went to their gate, and offered the rare object for sale. The brahmacārin's wife said, "My house also has an extraordinary thing that can rival it," and brought out the five-coloured deer. The layman then said, "The king ordered me to bring this deer; now you have stolen it, and your crime is immeasurable." The wife hurriedly returned it to him.
When the day of the contest arrived, the brahmacārins each presented deer that had their left eyes wounded, which were filthy and foul-smelling; the king was deeply disgusted. The layman arrived, presented the divine deer, and brought the divine bright-moon pearl into the king's palace. The two objects soared and danced together, flashing like shooting stars and shining like lightning. The entire palace praised them as extraordinary. The five hundred brāhmaṇas, knowing their arts were inferior, were made into slaves, and their wives became handmaidens. The layman instructed them in the sūtras and teachings, making them his disciples. (Extracted from the third fascicle of the *Za piyu jing*).
First 28 of 30 passages. Read on
Linked texts (1)
- 經律異相 — Classical Chinese