法苑珠林 15.29
English (machine translation) 15.29
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15.29
During the Liang, Shi Fayue of Zhengjue Temple in the capital was a śramaṇa of pure discipline. At the end of the Qi, he first served as a monastic leader, residing at Zhengjue Temple in the capital; he earnestly cultivated merit, and the fourfold assembly turned to him. Yue once heard that at the Songwang Temple in Pengcheng there was an eighteen-foot golden image made by Wang Zhongde, Senior General of Chariots and Cavalry and Regional Inspector of Xu Province under the Song, whose craftsmanship in its radiance and marks was praised as the finest west of the river. Whenever calamity or misfortune was portended within the province, or when monks and nuns were about to be unjustly afflicted with blame, the image would sweat; the quantity of the sweat corresponded to the severity of the disaster. In the beginning of the Taishi reign era of the Song (465 CE), when Pengcheng fell under the northern invaders, they wished to move the image together, employing up to ten thousand men, but in the end could not move it. In the early Qi, leading several commanderies of the province, they wished to raise a righteous revolt to submit southward, and also forced the community of monks to help defend the encampments and trenches. At that time, the enemy commander, the Duke of Lanling, attacked and overran this camp and captured the śramaṇas. Thereupon, he took into custody all the men of the Way from the two provinces, confined them within a garden, and submitted a memorial to the puppet court, falsely accusing them of abetting the rebellion. At that time, the image sweated so profusely that the entire hall was damp. At the time, the puppet Prince of Liang, Qian, garrisoned at Pengcheng, also had some measure of faith and reverence; he went in person to the image and ordered people to wipe it, but as soon as it was wiped, it sweated again, never stopping. The prince then burned incense, bowed in homage, and sincerely made a vow: "The monks are blameless; this disciple shall personally protect them and not allow them to suffer calamity. If our hidden sincerity evokes a response, may the sweating cease as soon as I wipe it." Thereupon, he wiped it with his own hand, and as it was wiped, it dried immediately. The prince submitted a detailed memorial of the matter, and the monks were pardoned and released. Having joyfully witnessed this divine anomaly, Yue made a vow to behold and revere it, but because border restrictions blocked the way, he had no means of fulfilling it. Furthermore, formerly Emperor Ming of the Song had attempted to cast an eighteen-foot golden image, but after four castings it did not succeed, so he altered it to fourteen feet. Yue, together with the śramaṇa Zhijing of Baima Temple, led people with common affinities, wishing to recast an eighteen-foot image of Immeasurable Life to realize his aspiration. When they first began gathering gold and copper, the turmoil at the end of the Qi ensued, causing further delay. Only at the beginning of the Liang did they report the matter to the throne; an edict was issued granting permission and providing aid to fashion the halo and pedestal, with master artisans and materials supplied as needed. On the third day of the fifth month in the eighth year of the Tianjian reign era of the Liang (509 CE), the casting of the Buddha body at the intended scale was begun at the Xiaozhuangyan Temple. Forty thousand catties of molten copper were poured and exhausted, yet it had not even reached the chest. The common people contributed copper in quantities beyond reckoning, throwing it into the furnaces, yet as it was cast, the mold remained unfilled, just as before. They dispatched a courier to report this to the throne, and an edict granted three thousand catties of merit copper. Just as the imperial palace began measuring and sending it out, by the image there was already seen a sheep-drawn carriage with an imperial messenger delivering copper beside the furnace. Thereupon the molten stream flowed, and with a single casting, it was filled to completion. In the space of an instant, both person and carriage vanished. Only when the palace's copper arrived did they realize that what had just been delivered was truly a divine resonance. The craftsmen leapt for joy, and clerics and laypeople praised it. When the mold was opened and measured, it had risen to nineteen feet, yet its radiance and marks were not defective. Furthermore, there were two large coins still visible on the robe's sash that had completely failed to melt, and none could fathom why this was so. Formerly, the measured forty thousand catties of copper should have been more than sufficient, and even with the subsequent addition of three thousand, by calculation it was still insufficient; yet the auspicious miracle mysteriously transpired beyond human calculation. Thus one knows that divine principles communicate obscurely and are hardly the work of human effort. When the clay core of the image was first completed, the bhikṣu Daozhao often repented and worshipped at night, when he suddenly saw the clay model shining with dazzling clarity; gazing at it closely for a long time, he realized the wonder of the divine light. Three days after the casting, before the mold was opened, there was the Dhyāna Master Daodu, a monk of pure integrity, who donated his seven-strip kāṣāya to help defray the cost of opening the crown of the head. Shortly thereafter, from afar he saw two monks kneeling and opening the image's topknot; when he drew close to look, they suddenly vanished. At that time, the two monks Yue and Jing passed away in succession, and an edict entrusted the affairs of the image to Sengyou of Dinglin [Temple]. On the twenty-sixth day of the ninth month of that year, the image was moved back to Guangzhai Temple. It had not rained that month and there was considerable dust; when day broke and the image was about to be moved, that night light clouds gathered overhead and a gentle rain moistened the ground. Sengyou was walking mindfully around the image, thinking of the weather, when from afar he saw flames of light rising and falling beside the image like lamps and candles, and he heard the sounds of repentance and prostration; entering through the door to look closely, they all suddenly blazed up together. Jiang Xiaosun, the temple guard, also witnessed this together with him. That night, merchants on the Huai River all heard under the great boat pontoon commands urging the repair of the bridge, sounding like hundreds of voices. Thus it was known that the gravity of this divine vessel could hardly have been moved by humans alone. Later, when the halo and pedestal were cast, there were also auspicious omens of fragrant breezes. To the east of the Pamirs (Onion Range), among golden images, this one stands supreme. (The two accounts above are taken from the *Liang Gaoseng zhuan*.)
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- 法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese