法苑珠林 21.63

21.63

惟此慢心通於白黑。智愚不免豪賤共有。但去輕論重在俗為甚。亦有空言我美。評說賢良譏毀聖德。一切白衣終日行之。未甞一日慚愧發露。情求勝道退省已躬。故外書云。力慕善道可用安身。力慕孝悌可用榮親。亦有君子。高慕釋教遵奉修行。貞仁退讓廉謹信順。皆是宿種稟性自然。與道何殊。亦有出家之人。不依聖教違犯戒律。不學無知與鄙俗無殊。然道俗形乖犯有希數。心有明暗過有輕重。故出家之人未犯已前念念入道。善業已熏福基已厚。雖有微惡輕愧而造。不能傾動。若小慚愧便復清白。若論在俗。身居無慚之地。心有無愧之情。畜養妻兒。財色五欲盈堂滿室。葷辛酒肉隨求所得。愛染情深無時暫捨。惡緣同住。豈得免之。此則明暗路分黑白殊隔。故知明能滅暗。暗不滅明。小燈之明已了室內。出家之人雖犯微過前明已成。正可光不增暉而本明常照。如器存炷立田安業永也。又出家造惡極難。如陸地行船。在家起過即易。如海中汎舟。又出家修道易為。如海中汎舟。在家修福甚難。如陸地行船。船雖是同由處有異。故遲疾不同。修犯難易。是知生死易染善法難成。早求自度勵慕出俗。又賢愚經云。出家功德其福甚多。若放男女奴婢。若聽人民。若自己身出家入道。功德無量非譬為比。出家功德。高於須彌。深於巨海。廣於虛空。所以然者。由出家故畢成佛道。佛在世時。王舍城中有一長者。名曰福增。年過百歲。家中大小莫不厭賤。聞說出家功德無量。即來佛所求欲出家。值佛不在即往至舍利弗所。舍利弗見老不度。如是五百大阿羅漢皆悉不度。即出寺門住門閫上。發聲大哭。世尊後至種種慰喻。即告目連令其出家。目連即與出家授戒。復常為諸年少比丘之所激切。便欲投河沒水而死。目連觀見以神通力接置岸上。問知因緣。目連念言。此人不以生死怖之無由得道。即令至心捉師衣角。飛騰虛空到大海邊。見一新死端正女人。見有一蟲從其口出還從鼻入。復從眼出從耳而入。目連觀已捨之而去。弟子問言。是何女人。答言。此是舍衛城中大薩薄婦。容貌端正世間少雙。其婦常以三奇木頭擎鏡照面。自覩端正。便起憍慢。深自愛著。夫甚敬愛將共入海。海惡船破沒水而死。漂出在岸。此薩薄婦由自愛身。死後還生在故身中。作此蟲也。捨蟲身已墮大地獄受苦無量。小復前行見一女人。自身負銅鑊。榰鑊著水以火燃沸。脫衣入鑊。肉熟離骨。沸吹骨出在外。風吹尋還成人。自取肉食。福增問師。是何女人。其師答言。舍衛國中有優婆夷。敬信三寶。請一比丘一夏供養。在於陌頭作房安置。自辦種種香美飯食。遣婢送之。婢至屏處選好先食。餘與比丘。大家覺問。汝不偷食不。婢答言無。比丘食訖有殘與我。我乃食之。若我先食使我世世自食身肉。以是因緣。先受華報後墮地獄。次小前行見一肉樹。多有諸蟲圍唼其身無有空處。噭喚啼哭如地獄聲。弟子問師。是何樹耶。目連答言。是瀨利吒營事比丘。以自在故費用僧物。華果飲食送與白衣。以是因緣受此華報。後墮地獄。唼樹諸蟲即爾時得物之人。次復前行見一男子。周匝多有獸頭人身。諸惡鬼神手執弓弩。三隻毒箭鏃皆火燃。競共射之洞身焦燃。福增問師。此何人耶。目連答言。此人前身作大獵師。多害禽獸故受斯苦。於後命終墮大地獄。次復前行見一大山。下安刀劍。見有一人從上投下刺壞其身。投已復上如前不息。福增問師。此復何人。師復答言。是王舍城王大鬪將。以勇猛故身處前鋒傷殺物命。先受此苦後墮地獄。次復前行見一骨山。其山高大七百由旬。能障蔽日使海陰黑。爾時目連於此骨山一大肋上。往來經行。弟子問師。是何骨山。師答福增言。汝欲知者。此即是汝故身骨也。福增聞已心驚毛豎惶怖汗出。白和尚言。聞我今者心未裂頃。願為時說本末因緣。目連告曰。生死輪轉無有邊際。造善惡業終無朽敗必受其報。昔過去時此閻浮提有一國王。名曰法增。好喜布施。持戒聞法。慈悲眾生不傷物命。正法治國滿二十年。其間閑暇共人博戲。時有一人犯法殺人。臣以白王。值王暮戲。脫答之言。隨國法治。即依律斷殺人應死。尋即殺之。王戲罷已問諸臣言。罪人何所。臣答殺竟。王聞是語。悶絕躄地水灑乃蘇。垂淚而言。宮人伎女象馬七珍悉皆住此。唯我一人獨入地獄。我今殺人。當知便是栴陀羅王。不知世世當何所趣。我今決定不須為王。即捨王位入山自守。其後命終生大海中。作摩竭魚。其身長大七百由旬。諸王大臣自恃勢力。枉剋百姓殺戮無邊。命終多墮摩竭大魚。多有諸蟲唼食其身。身癢揩山殺蟲污海。血流百里。魚一眠時經於百歲。飢渴吸水。水流入口如注大河。爾時適有五百賈客。入海採寶。值魚張口。船疾趣口。賈人恐怖舉聲大哭。垂入魚口一時同聲稱南無佛。魚聞佛聲閉口水停。賈人得活。魚飢命終生王舍城作汝身也。魚死之後夜叉羅剎出置海岸。肉消骨在作此骨山。法增王者汝身是也。緣殺人故墮海作魚。福增聞已深畏生死。觀見故身解法無常。得阿羅漢果。

Consider this: the mind of arrogance extends to both the laity and the ordained; both the wise and the foolish cannot escape it, and the noble and the base share it alike. Yet leaving aside the slight and discussing the grave, it is most severe among the worldly. There are also those who boast of their own excellence in empty words, evaluating the worthy and good, and censuring or defaming holy virtues. All white-robed laity practice this all day long, never once experiencing a day of shame, remorse, and open confession, or in their hearts seeking the supreme path and turning back to reflect upon their own persons. Thus secular texts say: "Zealously aspiring to the good way may be used to secure one's person; zealously aspiring to filial piety and fraternal respect may be used to bring honour to one's parents." There are also gentlemen who loftily admire the teachings of Śākya and observe and practice them; they are chaste, benevolent, yielding, upright, cautious, faithful, and obedient. These all stem from seeds planted in past lives and are natural to their inborn nature; how are they any different from the Way? There are also those who have left home, yet do not rely on the holy teachings and violate the monastic precepts; being unlearned and ignorant, they are no different from the vulgar. However, the monastic and worldly forms are distinct; transgressions differ in rarity and frequency, minds differ in brightness and darkness, and offenses differ in lightness and gravity. Therefore, before a person who has left home commits a transgression, thought after thought enters the Way; their wholesome karma has already perfumed them and the foundation of their merit is already thick. Although there may be slight evil, committed with light remorse, it cannot be overturned. If they feel a little shame, they return to purity. If we speak of those who dwell in the world, in body they abide in a place devoid of shame, and in mind they harbour dispositions lacking remorse. They maintain wives and children, and their halls and rooms are filled with wealth, beauty, and the five desires. Strong-smelling pungent roots, alcohol, and meat are obtained as they seek them; their feelings of love and attachment run deep and are never set aside even for an instant. Dwelling together with evil conditions, how could they escape them? Thus the paths of light and dark part ways, and black and white are distinctly separated. Hence we know that light can eliminate darkness, but darkness cannot eliminate light. The light of a small lamp can already illuminate an entire room. Although a person who has left home may commit a slight offense, their former light has already been accomplished; at most, its radiance does not increase in splendour, yet the fundamental light constantly shines. It is like the vessel remaining, the wick standing firm, the field being secure, and the enterprise enduring forever. Furthermore, for one who has left home to commit evil is extremely difficult, like sailing a boat on dry land; for one in the household to commit an offense is very easy, like floating a boat upon the ocean. Again, for one who has left home to cultivate the Way is easy, like floating a boat upon the ocean; for one in the household to cultivate merit is extremely difficult, like sailing a boat on dry land. Although the boats are the same, because their locations differ, their speed is not identical, and cultivation or transgression is difficult or easy. Thus one knows that birth-and-death is easily tainted and wholesome dharmas are difficult to accomplish; one should swiftly seek self-liberation and exert oneself in aspiring to leave the secular world. Furthermore, the *Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish* states: The merit of leaving home brings very great blessing. Whether one releases male and female slaves and servants, allows ordinary people [to leave home], or leaves home oneself to enter the Way, the merit is immeasurable and beyond comparison. The merit of leaving home is higher than Mount Sumeru, deeper than the great ocean, and wider than empty space. Why is this so? Because by leaving home, one will ultimately accomplish the Buddha Path. When the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder in Rājagṛha named Fuzeng (Puṇyavardhana). Over a hundred years old, there was no one in his household, young or old, who did not detest and disdain him. Hearing that the merit of leaving home is immeasurable, he went to the Buddha's place wishing to leave home. Finding that the Buddha was not present, he went to Śāriputra's place. Śāriputra, seeing that he was old, did not ordain him. In this manner, none of the five hundred great arhats would ordain him. He then went out of the monastery gate, stood on the threshold, and wept aloud. The World-Honoured One arrived later, comforted and instructed him in various ways, and then told Maudgalyāyana to ordain him. Maudgalyāyana then ordained him and transmitted the precepts to him. [Puṇyavardhana] was then repeatedly provoked and insulted by the young monks, and so wished to throw himself into the river and drown to death. Maudgalyāyana, observing this, used his supernormal powers to take hold of him and place him on the riverbank. Asking him, he learned the circumstances. Maudgalyāyana thought to himself: "If this man is not terrified by birth-and-death, there will be no way for him to attain the Way." He then had him grasp the hem of his teacher's robe with a focused mind, and they flew up into empty space and reached the shore of the great ocean. There they saw a newly deceased, beautiful woman; they saw a worm emerging from her mouth and entering back through her nose, and then coming out of her eyes and entering through her ears. Maudgalyāyana, having observed this, left it and moved on. The disciple asked him, "What woman is this?" He replied, "This was the wife of a great merchant leader in Śrāvastī. Her appearance was beautiful and rare in the world. This woman would constantly use a three-legged wooden stand to hold up a mirror and gaze at her face. Seeing her own beauty, she gave rise to arrogance and was deeply attached in love to herself. Her husband deeply revered and loved her, and took her along when going out to sea. The sea turned violent, the ship was wrecked, and she drowned in the water. She drifted out onto the shore. Because this merchant leader's wife was attached to her own body in love, after death she was reborn back into her former body, becoming this worm. After casting off this worm's body, she will fall into the great hells and suffer immeasurable pain." Walking forward a little further, they saw a woman carrying a bronze cauldron on her own body; she propped up the cauldron, put water into it, and lit a fire to boil it. She took off her clothes and entered the cauldron. When the flesh was cooked and separated from the bones, the boiling blew the bones out to the outside. The wind blew, and they immediately turned back into a human, who then took her own flesh and ate it. Fuzeng asked his teacher, "What woman is this?" His teacher replied, "In the country of Śrāvastī there was an upāsikā who reverently believed in the Three Jewels. She invited a monk to make offerings to him for one summer retreat, setting up a room for him at the end of the road. She personally prepared various kinds of fragrant, delicious food, and sent a maidservant to deliver it. When the maidservant reached a secluded place, she picked out the finest food and ate it first, giving the remainder to the monk. The mistress noticed this and asked, 'Did you steal and eat it?' The maidservant replied, 'No. After the monk finished eating, there was leftover food which he gave to me, and only then did I eat it. If I ate first, may I eat my own body's flesh life after life!' Because of this cause and condition, she first receives this flowering retribution and will later fall into hell." Next, walking forward a little, they saw a tree of flesh, with many worms surrounding and gnawing at its body without any empty space. It wailed and wept with sounds like those of hell. The disciple asked his teacher, "What tree is this?" Maudgalyāyana replied, "This was the monk in charge of affairs, Lailicha (Rāṣṭrapāla?). Because of his self-indulgence, he squandered the Saṃgha's property, sending flowers, fruits, and food and drink to white-robed laity. Because of this cause and condition, he receives this flowering retribution, and will later fall into hell. The worms gnawing at the tree are the people who received the goods at that time." Next, walking forward again, they saw a man surrounded by many evil ghosts and spirits with animal heads and human bodies, holding bows and crossbows in their hands, with three poisoned arrows whose tips were all blazing with fire, vying with each other to shoot him, piercing his body and scorching him with fire. Fuzeng asked his teacher, "What man is this?" Maudgalyāyana replied, "In a former life, this man was a great hunter. Because he killed many birds and beasts, he suffers this pain; after his life ends, he will fall into the great hells." Next, walking forward again, they saw a great mountain, beneath which knives and swords were placed. They saw a man throw himself down from above, piercing and mangling his body; having thrown himself down, he ascended again as before without ceasing. Fuzeng asked his teacher, "Who is this again?" The teacher again replied, "This was a great champion general of the king of Rājagṛha. Because of his valour, he positioned himself at the vanguard, wounding and killing living beings. First he suffers this pain, and will later fall into hell." Next, walking forward again, they saw a mountain of bones. This mountain was seven hundred yojanas tall and large, able to block out the sun and cause the ocean to become dark and shadowed. At that time, Maudgalyāyana paced back and forth in walking meditation atop a single large rib of this mountain of bones. The disciple asked his teacher, "What mountain of bones is this?" The teacher replied to Fuzeng, "If you wish to know, this is the bones of your own former body." When Fuzeng heard this, his heart was terrified, his hair stood on end, and he broke out in a fearful sweat. He said to the upādhyāya, "Before my heart bursts from hearing this, I pray that you will explain the causes and conditions from beginning to end." Maudgalyāyana told him, "The cycle of birth-and-death is without limit; when good and evil karma are created, they ultimately never decay and perish, and their retribution must be received. Long ago in the past, in this Jambudvīpa, there was a king named Fazeng (Dharmavardhana) who delighted in giving, kept the precepts, listened to the Dharma, and was compassionate toward living beings, never harming life. He governed the country with the true Dharma for a full twenty years. In his leisure during that time, he played a board game with someone. At that time, a person broke the law and killed someone; the ministers reported this to the king. It coincided with the king playing the game in the evening, so he answered offhandedly, saying, 'Judge him according to the law of the state.' Thus, in accordance with the statutes, it was judged that a killer should die, and he was executed immediately. When the king finished playing, he asked his ministers, 'Where is that criminal?' The ministers replied, 'He has already been executed.' When the king heard these words, he fell unconscious to the ground; only after water was sprinkled on him did he revive. Shedding tears, he said: 'The palace women, singing-girls, elephants, horses, and seven treasures will all remain here; I alone will enter hell. Having now killed a man, I must know that I am indeed a caṇḍāla king! I do not know to which realm I will go life after life. I am now resolved not to be king.' He immediately renounced the royal throne, entered the mountains, and kept to himself. Later, when his life ended, he was born into the ocean as a makara fish, seven hundred yojanas long. Kings and great ministers who rely on their power and influence to falsely extort ordinary people and slaughter boundlessly mostly fall into becoming great makara fish upon the end of their lives. Many worms gnaw and feed on its body. When its body itches, it rubs against mountains, killing the worms and polluting the ocean, its blood flowing for a hundred li. When the fish sleeps once, a hundred years pass. When it is hungry and thirsty, it swallows water, the water pouring into its mouth like a surging great river. At that time, it happened that five hundred merchants went into the sea to gather jewels. They encountered the fish opening its mouth; the ship sped toward the mouth. Terrified, the merchants wept aloud, and as they were on the verge of falling into the fish's mouth, they called out in unison, 'Homage to the Buddha!' Hearing the sound of the Buddha, the fish closed its mouth and the water stopped; the merchants were saved. The fish died of hunger and was born in Rājagṛha as your present body. After the fish died, yakṣas and rākṣasas brought it out and placed it on the seashore. The flesh decomposed and the bones remained, forming this mountain of bones. King Fazeng was your very own body. Because of having killed a man, you fell into the sea to become a fish." When Fuzeng heard this, he was deeply terrified of birth-and-death; beholding his former body, he understood that phenomena are impermanent, and attained the fruit of an arhat.