法苑珠林 35.59

35.59

又燈指經云。昔王舍城五山圍繞。於五摩伽陀最處。其裏。諸勝智人修梵行者。咸以此地莊嚴殊特心生喜樂。自遠而來雲集其中。爾時城中有一長者。其家巨富庫藏盈溢。如毘沙門。然無子嗣。禱祀神祇求乞有子。其婦不久便覺有娠。滿足十月生一男兒。是兒先世宿殖福因。初生之日。其手一指出大光明明照十里。父母歡喜。即集親族及諸相師。施設大會為兒立字。因其指光。字曰燈指。集諸會者覩其異相歎未曾有。時此會中有婆羅門。名曰婆修。博聞多知事無不曉。見兒奇相非常含笑而言。此兒或是那羅延天帝釋提桓因日之天子諸大德天來現生也。時兒父母聞是語已。倍增歡喜。七日設大施會。舉國知聞上徹於王。闍王聞已。即勅將來。長者受教。尋即抱兒詣王宮門。值王宴會通啟不得。其兒指光徹照宮庭赫然大明。照于王身及以宮觀。一切雜物斯皆金色。其光遍照於王宮內。王即怪問。此光何來忽照吾宮。將非世尊欲化眾生至我門邪。又非大德諸天釋提桓因日天子等下降來邪。王尋遣人往門外看。使人見已。還入白王。向者大王所喚小兒。今在門外。此小兒手在乳母肩上。其指出光明來徹照。故有此光。王勅使言。速將兒來。王既見已。深異此兒。自捉兒手觀其兒相。諦瞻覩已而作是言。外道六師稱無因果。真為誑惑。若無因果。云何此兒得有此光。以此觀之。諸外道輩陷諸眾生顛墜惡趣。定知此兒非自在天等自然而有。必因宿福獲斯善報。始知佛語審諦不虛。而不修福一何怪哉。王言。今猶未審。此指光曜或因於日而有此明。或因於月而有此明。必欲驗者須待夜半。既至日暮即以小兒。置于象上在前而行。王將群臣共入園中。而此小兒指光所照幽闇大明。觀視園中鳥獸華菓與晝無異。王觀此已。喟然歎曰。佛之所說何期真妙。我於今日於因於果生大堅信。深鄙六師愚迷之甚。是故於佛倍生宗仰。於時耆域即白王言。假令貧窮尚應罄竭而修善業。況復富饒而不作福。如是語頃天已平曉。還將燈指入于王宮。王甚歡喜。大賜珍寶放令還家。燈指漸大。其父長者為求婚所。選擇高門娉以為婦。長者既富禮教先備。閨門雝穆資產轉盛。夫盛有衰合會有離。長者及母俱時喪亡。譬如日到沒處暉光潛翳。如日既出月光不現。如火為灰熾焰永滅。強健好色為病所壞。少壯之年為老所侵。所愛之命為死所奪。父母既終生計漸損。而此燈指少長富逸不閑家業。惡伴交游恣心放意。耽惑酒色用錢無度。倉庫貯積無人料理。如月盈昃闇轉就損。時彼國法歲一大會集般舟山。于時燈指服飾嚴從詣彼會所。時後群賊知燈指未還。伺其空便往到其家。劫掠錢財一切盡取。燈指暮歸。見已舍內為賊劫掠。唯有木石塼瓦等。見此事已。悶絕躄地。傍人水灑方得惺寤。憂愁啼哭而作是念。我父昔來廣作方宜。修治家業劬勞積聚。倉庫財寶是父所為。生育我身見有委付。如何至我不紹父業。浮游嬾墮為人欺𣣋。父之餘財一旦喪失倉庫空虛畜產迸散。當于爾時指光亦滅。其妻厭賤捨棄而走。僮僕逃失親里斷絕。極親厚者反如怨讎。貧窮之人如起屍鬼。一切悑畏能毀盛年。好色氣力名聞種族。門戶智慧仁義信行。悉能壞之。我之貧厄世間少比。正欲捨身不能自殞。當作何方以自存濟。復作是念。世人所鄙不過擔屍。此事雖惡交無供世受苦之業。有人聞語即雇擔屍。燈指取直尋從其言。擔負死人到於冡間。意欲擲棄。于時死人急抱燈指。譬如小兒抱其父母。急捉不放。盡力挽却不能得去。死人著脊猶如胡膠。不可得脫。排推不離。甚大悑畏。作是念言。我於今日。擔此死屍欲何處活。即詣旃陀羅村語言。誰能却我背上死屍。當重相雇。諸旃陀羅詳共盡力。共挽却之。亦不肯去。餘見之者罵燈指言。狂人何為擔負死屍入人村落。競以杖石而打擲之。身體傷破痛懼並至。有人憐愍將其詣城。既到城門。守門之人逆遮打之。不得近門。此何癡人。擔負死屍欲來入城。自見己身被諸杖木。身體皆破甚懷懊惱。發聲大哭。由我貧困不擇作處。為斯賤業。如何一旦復值苦毒。寧作餘死不負屍生。且哭且言。時守門者深生憐愍。放令還家。到自空室。先同乞索諸貧人等。共住之者。遙見死屍在其背上。悉皆捨去。既到舍已屍自墮地。燈指于時逾增惶悑悶絕躄地。久乃得蘇。尋見死屍手指純是黃金。雖復悑畏見是好金。即前視之。以刀試割。實是真金。既得金已。心生歡喜。復前剪頭項手足。如是剪已。尋復還生。須臾之頃。金頭手足其積過人。譬如王者失國還復本位。如盲得眼視照明了。燈指歡喜亦復如是。庫藏珍寶倍勝於前。威德名譽有過先日。親里朋友妻子僮僕一切還來。燈指歎曰。嗚呼怪哉。富有大力。能使世人來歸亟疾。嗚呼怪哉。貧有大力。能使所親捨我亟速。我先貧時素有所親昵交游道絕。聊無一人與我語者。今日一切顒顒承事合掌恭敬。假使生處如天帝釋。勇力如羅摩。知見如天師。若無錢財都無所直。富者不問愚智皆稱好人。實無所知人以為智。亦得勇健諸善名聞。雖復醜陋老弊。少壯婦女樂至其邊。阿闍世王聞其還富。尋即遣人來取其寶。其所取者盡是死人。還擲屋中見是真金。燈指知王欲得此寶。即以金頭手足以用上王。王既得已齎之還宮。於後燈指作是思惟。而說偈言。

Furthermore, the Dīpaprabha-sūtra states: Formerly, Rājagṛha was surrounded by five mountains, situated at the innermost center among the five of Magadha. Wise persons of distinction who cultivated pure conduct all rejoiced with hearts delighting in the extraordinary ornamentation of this land, and gathered there like clouds from afar. At that time, there was an elder in the city whose household was immensely wealthy, with storehouses overflowing, just like Vaiśravaṇa. Yet he had no heirs. He prayed and made offerings to the spirits, pleading for a son. Before long, his wife realized she was pregnant. Having completed ten months, she gave birth to a boy. This boy had planted karmic causes of merit in previous lives: on the day he was born, one finger of his hand emitted a great light that brightly illuminated ten li around. His parents were overjoyed. They immediately assembled their clan and various physiognomists, arranged a grand feast, and gave the boy a name. Because of the light from his finger, they named him Dīpaprabha (Finger-Lamp). Those assembled at the gathering beheld his wondrous sign and exclaimed that it was unprecedented. At that time, there was a brahman in the assembly named Basu (Vasu), well-versed and erudite, with nothing he did not comprehend. Seeing the boy's extraordinary signs, he smiled and said: 'This boy is perhaps Nārāyaṇa, Śakra Devānām Indra, the Sun Deva, or one of the devas of great virtue come to manifest birth.' Having heard these words, the child's parents redoubled their joy. For seven days they held a grand banquet of giving. The whole country came to know of it, and word reached the king above. When King Ajātaśatru heard of it, he immediately ordered the boy brought before him. The elder complied with the command and soon carried the child to the palace gate. The king happened to be holding a feast, so access could not be announced. The light from the child's finger penetrated and illuminated the palace courtyard, shining with great radiance upon the king's body, the palaces, and all the various objects, making them all appear golden. As the light shone everywhere within the royal palace, the king wondered in astonishment, 'Where does this light come from, suddenly illuminating my palace? Could it be that the World-Honoured One wishes to transform living beings and has come to my gate? Or has Śakra Devānām Indra, the Sun Deva, or other devas of great virtue descended to visit?' The king immediately sent someone outside the gate to look. After seeing, the messenger returned to report to the king: 'The little child called for earlier by the Great King is now outside the gate. This child's hand rests on the wet nurse's shoulder, and his finger emits light that shines all the way through; hence this illumination.' The king ordered the messenger: 'Quickly bring the child here!' Having seen him, the king was profoundly amazed by this child. He took the child's hand in his own, examined his physical marks, and having gazed intently upon them, spoke these words: 'The non-Buddhist Six Masters claim there is no cause and effect; they truly deceive and confuse! If there were no cause and effect, how could this child possess such light? Looking at it this way, those non-Buddhists cause living beings to fall headlong into evil destinies. One surely knows this child is not spontaneously produced by Īśvara or the like, but must have obtained this good retribution from past merit. Only now do I know that the Buddha's words are precise and not false. How strange it is that people do not cultivate merit!' The king said: 'It is still not certain whether this finger's radiance derives its light from the sun or from the moon. If we wish to test it, we must wait until midnight.' When evening fell, the child was placed upon an elephant to go before them. The king and his ministers went together into the garden. Where the light from this child's finger shone, the deep darkness was brightly lit, and looking upon the birds, beasts, flowers, and fruits in the garden was no different from daytime. Having observed this, the king sighed and exclaimed: 'How truly wondrous is that which the Buddha speaks! Today, I have given rise to firm faith in causes and effects, and deeply despise the extreme foolishness and delusion of the Six Masters. Therefore, toward the Buddha my reverence and veneration double!' Thereupon Jīvaka said to the king: 'Even if one were destitute, one should exhaust all means to cultivate good deeds; how much more so when rich and abundant should one not fail to make merit!' While they were speaking thus, dawn arrived. They brought Dīpaprabha back into the royal palace. The king was extremely pleased, bestowed bountiful precious treasures, and released him to return home. Dīpaprabha gradually grew up. His father, the elder, sought a marriage for him, selecting a daughter from an illustrious clan to take as his wife. Since the elder was rich and propriety was observed, the family was harmonious and peaceful, and their assets flourished further. Now, prosperity entails decline, and union involves separation: the elder and his wife passed away at the same time. This is like the sun reaching its setting place, its brilliance hidden and eclipsed; like when the sun has risen, the moonlight no longer appears; like fire turning to ash, its blazing flames forever extinguished; robust good looks are ruined by illness; youth and prime of life are encroached upon by old age; and beloved life is snatched away by death. After the parents died, the livelihood gradually decayed. But Dīpaprabha had grown up in wealth and ease, unaccustomed to managing family business. He associated with evil companions, indulged his desires without restraint, was infatuated with wine and women, and spent money without limit. With no one to manage the stores accumulated in the warehouses, like the moon waning after fullness, his fortune gradually diminished in darkness. According to the custom of that country, an annual grand festival was held on Mount Pratyutpanna. At that time, Dīpaprabha adorned his attire and entourage to attend the gathering. Afterwards, a band of thieves, knowing that Dīpaprabha had not yet returned and watching for an opportunity when it was empty, went to his house and plundered all the money and wealth, taking everything. When Dīpaprabha returned in the evening, he saw that his house had been pillaged by thieves, leaving only wood, stones, bricks, and tiles. Seeing this, he fell to the ground in a swoon. Only when those nearby sprinkled water on him did he regain consciousness. Weeping in grief, he thought: 'My father formerly engaged extensively in skillful means, toiling diligently to amass our estate. The wealth and jewels in the warehouses were my father's doing. He raised me and entrusted it all to me. Why have I failed to inherit my father's estate, becoming wandering and indolent, cheated and deceived by others? My father's remaining wealth was lost in a single day, the warehouses are empty, and the livestock dispersed.' At that time, the finger's light also extinguished. His wife despised him and fled, abandoning him; the servants ran away and were lost; and relatives severed ties. Those who had been closest became like enemies. A poor person is like a vetāla; all fear him. Poverty can destroy one's prime of life, fair complexion, vigor, fame, clan, lineage, wisdom, benevolence, righteousness, and faithful conduct—it destroys them all. The misery of my poverty has few equals in the world. I would like to discard this body, yet I cannot bring myself to end my own life. What means should I adopt to sustain myself?' He thought again: 'What people of the world despise most is carrying corpses. Although this work is base, it is an occupation of suffering that provides for the world.' Someone heard his words and hired him to carry a corpse. Dīpaprabha took the payment and complied with their instructions. Carrying the dead person to the cemetery, he intended to cast it away. At that moment, the dead person gripped Dīpaprabha tightly, like a small child holding its parents, gripping fast and not letting go. Though he pulled with all his strength, he could not free himself. The dead person clung to his back like glue, impossible to detach. He pushed and shoved, but could not shake it off, and became terrified. He thought: 'Today, carrying this dead corpse, where can I go to live?' He then went to a caṇḍāla village and said: 'Who can remove the dead corpse from my back? I will reward them handsomely.' The caṇḍālas deliberated and exerted all their strength, pulling together to remove it, yet it still would not leave. Others who saw him cursed Dīpaprabha, saying: 'Madman! Why do you carry a dead corpse into people's villages?' They competed to strike and throw sticks and stones at him. His body was broken and wounded, pain and fear assailing him together. Someone took pity on him and led him to the city. When they reached the city gate, the gatekeepers blocked and beat him, not allowing him near the gate: 'What foolish person carries a dead corpse intending to enter the city?' Seeing his own body beaten with sticks and clubs, his flesh battered and broken, he felt deep anguish, and wept aloud: 'Because of my poverty, I did not choose where to work and took up this base occupation. Why must I suddenly encounter such bitter torment? I would rather die in some other way than live carrying a corpse!' Weeping as he spoke, the gatekeepers felt deep pity and allowed him to return home. When he arrived at his empty house, the poor people who had previously begged with him and lived together saw from afar the dead corpse on his back and all ran away. Having reached the house, the corpse fell to the ground on its own. At that moment, Dīpaprabha became all the more terrified, swooned, and collapsed to the ground, only reviving after a long while. He then saw that the corpse's fingers were made of pure gold. Although still fearful, seeing that it was fine gold, he approached to inspect it. He tested it by cutting with a knife, and it was indeed genuine gold. Having obtained the gold, joy arose in his heart. He went forward again and cut off its head, neck, hands, and feet. After being cut, they immediately grew back. In a short while, the golden heads, hands, and feet formed a pile exceeding the height of a person. Just like a king who loses his kingdom and regains his original throne, or a blind person gaining sight and seeing clearly, Dīpaprabha's joy was just the same. His warehouses and treasures were twice as abundant as before; his prestige and reputation surpassed former days. Relatives, friends, wife, children, and servants all returned. Dīpaprabha sighed: 'Alas, how wondrous! Wealth possesses great power, able to make the people of the world return in haste. Alas, how wondrous! Poverty possesses great power, able to make one's loved ones abandon one with speed! When I was poor before, my usual intimates and friends cut off all contact, and not a single person would speak with me. Today, everyone looks up to me, serves me, and folds their hands in reverence. Even if one were born in a place like Śakra Devānām Indra, had the valor of Rāma, and the insight of the Deva Preceptor, without money and wealth one would be worth nothing at all. The wealthy, whether foolish or wise, are all praised as good people; though knowing nothing, people consider them wise; they also gain a reputation for vigor and every virtue. Even if ugly, old, and decrepit, young women delight in approaching them.' King Ajātaśatru heard that he was wealthy again, and immediately sent men to seize his treasures. But what they seized turned entirely into dead corpses; when thrown back into the house, they were seen to be genuine gold. Dīpaprabha knew the king wished to obtain these treasures, so he presented the golden heads, hands, and feet to the king. Having received them, the king carried them back to his palace. Afterwards, Dīpaprabha contemplated this and spoke a verse: