法苑珠林 53

English (machine translation) 53

Language: English

53.1

Compiled by Śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

53.2

Chapter 58: Quick-Witted Eloquence / Chapter 59: Dull-Witted Stupidity

53.3

Chapter on Quick-Witted Eloquence (this contains three sections)

53.4

Section on Expressing the Intent / Section on Bodhisattvas / Section on Arhats

Consider that the Tripiṭaka is vast and deep, and the seven assemblies are numerous and diverse. Teachings are set forth to match every capacity, brilliantly bringing about thorough understanding. Hearing of suffering and its arising, they are moved with grief and stir their hearts; listening to cessation and the path, they give rise to joy and renunciation and awaken. Its clear and refreshing tone and rhythm are as fragrant as orchids; its lofty tenets and musical cadence instruct and open the ears and eyes. Thus Aśvaghoṣa illuminated its profound principles; Nāgārjuna revived its severed transmission; Āryadeva refuted its categories of names; and the arhats synthesized its branches and order. Together they aided and extolled the wondrous scriptures, vanquishing and cutting down non-Buddhist traditions. In the bewildered ford they revealed the thoroughfare; during the long night they met the dawn. Continuing the lofty models of the Buddhist scriptures, they manifested the instructional methods of teachers and disciples. Pertaining to this, it may indeed be called glorious! The Jetavana Park seems present before us; the Deer Park is as if right in our gaze. Truly, though one has not yet realized the fruit, approaching Buddhahood is near at hand.

53.7

Section 2: Bodhisattvas (briefly listing two or three; the rest are scattered in other chapters)

53.8

The Biography of Bodhisattva Aśvaghoṣa says: Over three hundred years after the Buddha's parinirvāṇa (the Māyā-sūtra says six hundred years), he arose from the country of Sāketa in Eastern India, belonging to the brahmin caste. From his youth he was renowned for his extraordinary talent, acclaimed for his literary skill and eloquence. By the secular customs of India, debate masters and literati all carried tokens of superiority to display their virtue. Aśvaghoṣa followed this secular custom: he affixed a sharp knife to a staff and inscribed upon it: "If there is any wise scholar under heaven who can refute me with a single principle, or surpass me with a single piece of writing, I shall cut off my head with this knife." Carrying this knife, he routinely travelled through the various kingdoms, and among scholars of literature and debate, none could withstand him. At that time, in Mount Vindhya, there was an arhat named Pūrṇa, who was thoroughly versed in the principles and doctrines of non-Buddhist traditions. Thereupon Aśvaghoṣa went to call upon him. He saw him sitting upright beneath the trees, his intent and presence remote and unfathomable, his expression unassuming and seemingly yielding. He then said to him: "Śramaṇa, speak! If you dare to explain anything, I will certainly defeat you. If I do not win, I shall cut my throat by way of apology." The śramaṇa remained silent, showing neither a look of defeat nor an air of victory. Questioned several times, he never showed any reaction. Aśvaghoṣa withdrew and reflected: "I have lost, and he has won. He abides in silence, and therefore has nothing that can be refuted. I have relied on words; though I know that those who speak can be refuted, I myself have not escaped speech. Truly I should be ashamed." Stepping back to acknowledge his defeat, he was about to cut his throat. The śramaṇa stopped him: "If you are to apologize to me by slitting your throat, you should rather follow my wish: shave your topknot and become my disciple." He thus yielded to reason, shaved his hair, cast off his hairpin, and received the full ordination. In seat, he set forth the Buddha's Dharma in writing; travelling, he propagated transformation along the Path. He composed various treatises adorning the Buddha's Dharma amounting to over a million words. They circulated widely across India, and the whole world revered and followed him, taking them as models of composition. Even when [Zixia at] the Western River caused confusion concerning Confucius, or Śāriputra doubted the Holy Teacher, nothing could surpass this. Later, when Nāgārjuna first took up the brush to compose treatises, he never failed to bow his head to Aśvaghoṣa and compose verses of refuge, humbly seeking reliance upon his hidden illumination to achieve self-awakening. Today, the kings and men of influence throughout India all erect shrines for him and revere him like a Buddha. The appraisal states:

53.9

The Biography of Bodhisattva Nāgārjuna and the Fu fazang zhuan state: There was a great being named Nāgārjuna (According to the biography, he appeared in the world within seven hundred years after the Buddha's passing. According to the biography of Master Xuanzang, the correct Sanskrit pronunciation is Nāgārjuna, translated as Longmeng [Dragon-Valiant]. The old translation was corrupted and abbreviated, hence he was called Longshu [Dragon-Tree]. He appeared in the world three hundred years after the Buddha's passing and lived to seven hundred years of age; thus people mistakenly say he appeared seven hundred years after the Buddha's demise). He was endowed with natural genius and extraordinary awakening; he never needed to ask about anything twice. He raised the banner of the Dharma and crushed the heterodox traditions. He took birth in South India into a brāhmaṇa family of great wealth and nobility. When he was first born, he was under a tree, and because he attained the Way through a nāga, he was called Nāgārjuna. From his youth he was intelligent and wise, and his talents and learning surpassed the world. When he was still a child in swaddling clothes, he heard brāhmaṇas reciting the four Veda treatises. Those scriptures were vast and profound, consisting of forty thousand verses, each with thirty-two syllables, yet he immediately understood them and penetrated their phrasing and purport. Coming of age at twenty, his fame spread, and he walked unchallenged through the various states. In astronomy, geography, the constellations, charts and prognostications, and all other esoteric arts, there was nothing he had not mastered. He had three friends of extraordinarily refined natural talent. They discussed among themselves, saying, "The principles and doctrines under heaven awaken the spirit and brilliance, penetrate the arcane purports, and increase wisdom. In matters such as these, we have already mastered everything. By what other means shall we amuse ourselves?" They also said, "In the world, only pursuing fair beauties and indulging passion to the utmost desire is the supreme, wondrous pleasure of a lifetime. We should together seek an invisibility elixir. If this matter succeeds, this wish is sure to be fulfilled." They all said, "Splendid! These words are most delightful!" They immediately went to the place of a sorcerer to seek the method of invisibility. The sorcerer thought, "These four brāhmaṇas have lofty and far-reaching talent and wisdom, and have conceived great arrogance, treating all living beings like weeds. Now, because of this art, they humble themselves to approach me. Yet among what these men have exhaustively studied and broadly penetrated, the only thing they do not know is this lowly art. If I teach them the formula, they will abandon me forever. I shall give them the medicine without letting them know its formula. When the medicine is exhausted, they will surely return, and their consulting me as master can last long." He then gave each of them a blue pill, instructing them, "Take this medicine, grind it with water, and smear it on your eyelids; your forms will naturally disappear." Promptly following the master's instruction, each ground the medicine. When Nāgārjuna smelled its fragrance, he immediately recognized it, without mistaking its proportions, weights, or measures in the slightest. Returning to the master, he related the matter in full: "This medicine contains fully seventy ingredients; their names and weights are all in accordance with the formula." Hearing this, the master was astonished and asked how he knew. Nāgārjuna answered, "The great master should know: all medicines inherently have their distinctive aromas. By this I knew it; what is there to wonder at?" Hearing his words, the master sighed at this unprecedented feat. He then thought, "Hearing of such a man is already difficult, so how could I, having personally met him, begrudge this art?" He then taught the four men the method in full. The four men compounded the medicine according to the formula, concealed their bodies, and roamed about at will. Thereupon they went together into the king's inner palace. The beauties in the palace were all violated. After more than a hundred days, many were pregnant. Soon they went to report this to the king in the hope of avoiding punishment. Hearing this, the king was greatly displeased: "What inauspicious omen is this, to be so monstrous?" He summoned his wise ministers to confer on the matter. At that time, a minister addressed the king, "Generally, in matters like this, there must be two kinds: one is ghosts and spectres, and the other is magical arts. We can place fine soil in all the gates and set guards to cut off passers-by. If it is magical arts, their footprints will naturally appear; if ghosts or spectres enter, there will surely be no footprints. Humans can be eliminated with weapons; ghosts should be destroyed by incantations." The king adopted his plan and carried it out according to the method. They saw four men's footprints entering through the gate. The guards quickly reported this to the king. The king led several hundred valiant warriors, swinging their swords in the air, and severed the heads of three men. Within seven feet of the king, the blades did not reach. Nāgārjuna drew in his body and stood close beside the king. Thereupon he first awakened to the truth that desire is the root of suffering, ruining virtue, endangering the body, and defiling pure conduct (brahmacarya). He then made a vow to himself: "If I escape and am spared this calamity, I shall go to a śramaṇa and receive the rules of renunciation." Once he escaped, he entered the mountains, arrived at a stupa, renounced desire and attachment, and went forth as a monk to practice the Way. Within ninety days, he recited all the sūtras and treatises in Jambudvīpa, completely mastering them all. When he searched further for other scriptures, there were none to be found anywhere. Thereupon he proceeded toward the Snow Mountains (Himālaya), where he met a bhikṣu who transmitted the Mahāyāna to him. He read, recited, delighted in, revered, and made offerings to it. Although he had penetrated its true meaning, he had not yet obtained realization of the Way. His eloquence was inexhaustible and he was skilled in debate; all heterodox outsiders and divergent schools were crushed and subdued, and requested him to be their teacher and model. He thereupon considered himself an omniscient person, conceiving arrogance and immense pride, and wished to enter the gate of Gautama. At that time, the gate deity told Nāgārjuna, "Your wisdom now is like that of a mosquito or gnat; compared to the Tathāgata, it cannot even be spoken of. It is no different from a firefly matching its light with the sun and moon, or equating Mount Sumeru with a mustard seed. As I observe you, virtuous one, you are not an omniscient person. Why do you wish to enter this gate?" Hearing these words, he felt ashamed and embarrassed. At that time, a disciple said to Nāgārjuna, "Master, you always call yourself an omniscient person; now you have come humbly to become a disciple of the Buddha. The way of a disciple is to consult and receive instruction from a master; if consulting and receiving instruction are insufficient, one is not an omniscient person." Thereupon Nāgārjuna was at a loss for words and his arguments were exhausted. He thought to himself, "In the methods of the world, paths are limitless. Although the Buddha's scriptures are wondrous, their phrasings and meanings are not yet exhausted. I should now further expound them to awaken later students and benefit living beings." Having said this, he stayed alone in a quiet room, a crystal chamber. The great nāga Bodhisattva took pity on his state, and by supernatural power brought him into the great ocean, led him to his palace, opened the seven-jewel casket, and showed him profound Vaipulya sūtras. Having transmitted immeasurable wondrous dharmas to Nāgārjuna, within ninety days he thoroughly understood a great many. His mind penetrated deeply and he personally attained real benefit. Knowing his thoughts, the nāga asked him, "Have you now read all the scriptures completely?" Nāgārjuna answered, "Your scriptures are immeasurable and cannot be exhausted. What I have read is already fully ten times greater than all that is in Jambudvīpa." The nāga king asked, "The scriptures possessed by Śakra Devānām Indra in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven surpass this palace by hundreds of thousands of myriad times; those in other places, compared to this, are easily counted." At that time, having obtained the various scriptures, Nāgārjuna had a breakthrough of complete understanding, skillfully penetrated the single characteristic, penetrated deeply into the non-arising of dharmas, and was fully endowed with the two kinds of forbearance. Knowing he had awakened to the Way, the nāga escorted him back out of the palace. At that time, the king of South India originally held deeply wrong views, serving heterodox paths and slandering the saddharma. Seeing that Nāgārjuna was an omniscient person, whom great masters of debate could not match in refutation, he bowed his head in homage, shaved his hair and beard, and went forth as a monk. In this manner, Nāgārjuna converted immeasurable numbers of people with wrong views. The royal house often sent ten cartloads of robes and bowls, which within a single day were completely exhausted. In this manner, spreading continuously even without limit, he extensively opened up and analyzed the meaning of the Mahāyāna. He composed the Upadeśa-śāstra in one hundred thousand verses to adorn the Buddha's path, and treatises such as the Great Compassion and Upāya, each in one hundred thousand verses, causing the Mahāyāna to be proclaimed first in the world. He composed the Fearless Treatise (Akutobhayā) in a full one hundred thousand verses; the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā came out of this Fearless collection, totaling five hundred verses. What he expounded had profound meaning and flavor, crushing all the banners of victory of the heterodox traditions. At that time, there was a Hīnayāna Dharma master who, seeing his loftiness and brilliance, constantly harbored resentment and jealousy. Bodhisattva Nāgārjuna, his work already accomplished, was about to leave this land, and asked the Dharma master, "Do you now wish for me to remain long in the world?" He answered, "Virtuous one, I truly do not." Nāgārjuna then entered a quiet room and did not appear for days. His disciples all found it strange, broke through the door to look, and saw that their master had sloughed off his mortal coil like a cicada and departed. The states throughout India all erected temples for him, making various offerings and revering him like a Buddha.

53.10

Section 3: Arhats

53.11

As the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra states: Śāriputra was foremost in wisdom among all disciples. As the Buddha's verse says:

53.12

Among all living beings, / Excepting only the Buddha, the World-Honoured One, / If one wished to compare with Śāriputra / In wisdom and great learning, / Even one-sixteenth / Would still not match him.

53.13

Śāriputra was of great wisdom and learnedness. When he was just eight years of age, he could recite the eighteen scriptures and thoroughly understood all their meanings. At that time, in the kingdom of Magadha, there were two nāgarāja brothers, one named Giri and the other named Agara. They sent down rain in season so that the kingdom had no years of dearth. Moved with gratitude toward them, the people always held a great assembly at the nāgas' dwelling in the mid-spring month, making music and debating doctrines throughout the day. From antiquity to the present, this gathering had never lapsed. By the customary rule for this day, four high seats were set out: the first for the king, the second for the crown prince, the third for the chief ministers, and the fourth for the debaters. At that time, Śāriputra, though only eight years old, asked the multitude, "For whom are these four high seats laid out?" The multitude replied, "For the king, the crown prince, the chief ministers, and the debaters." At that time, Śāriputra observed the people of his day and saw none superior to himself; he then mounted the debate-couch and sat cross-legged upon it. The people were astonished and suspicious. Some said he was foolish and ignorant, while others said his wisdom surpassed that of ordinary men. Though they admired his miraculous wonder, each still harboured self-pride, and ashamed of his youth, they would not address him themselves; they all sent young boys to convey their questions. His replies, their points of purpose and reasoned arguments, were transcendent and supreme. All the debate masters of the time sighed at what had never been seen before, and foolish and wise, old and young, all were subdued. The king was filled with great joy and immediately commanded the officials to grant him a fief of a village to provide for him continually. The king rode his elephant-carriage and rang the bell to issue a proclamation, announcing it to all sixteen great kingdoms, and none failed to celebrate with delight. (As the Sifen lü says: "Śāriputra was endowed with the four analytical knowledges: first, the analytical knowledge of Dharmas; second, the analytical knowledge of meanings; third, the analytical knowledge of language; fourth, the analytical knowledge of perspicuity. If one possesses these analytical knowledges and the non-Buddhists are not subdued, there is no such possibility." Furthermore, the Shengsiyi lun says: "Bodhisattvas possess seven kinds of virtues, all relying on the eloquence of delight in speech. What are the seven? First, varied eloquence of delight in speech; second, unobstructed eloquence of delight in speech; third, steadfast eloquence of delight in speech; fourth, perspicuous eloquence of delight in speech; fifth, undaunted eloquence of delight in speech; sixth, harmonious eloquence of delight in speech; seventh, unhindered eloquence of delight in speech. These are attained by bodhisattvas on the eighth ground.") At that time, in the city of Kolita, there was a man named Kolita of the clan of Mahāmaudgalyāyana; he was a friend of Śāriputra. The talent, wisdom, and virtuous conduct of the two were matched; when traveling, they went together, and when residing, they stayed together. From youth to adulthood, their bond was forged, pledging faithfulness to each other from beginning to end. Later, both grew weary of the world, went forth from home, and studied the Way as disciples of a brahma-cārin. With fervent hearts they sought the gate of the Way, but for a long time there was no proof of attainment. They questioned their teacher, whose name was Sañjaya. He replied to them, saying, "Ever since I have sought the Way, years and years have passed, yet I do not know the fruit of the Way. Am I not the right person?" On another day, the teacher fell ill. Śāriputra stood at the head of the bed, and Mahāmaudgalyāyana stood at the foot of the bed. Both were anxious and fearful. As their teacher was about to die, he smiled with pity. With one mind, the two asked together the meaning of his smile. The teacher answered them, saying, "Worldly people are blind, violated by affection and love. I saw that the king of the land of Suvarṇadvīpa died, and his chief queen threw herself into a fire-pit, seeking to be in the same place as him; yet the actions and retributions of these two were different, and their places of rebirth are completely severed." At that time, the two took down the teacher's words in writing, wishing to test their truth or falsehood. Later, a merchant of Suvarṇadvīpa came from afar to Magadha, and when they checked his account against the writing, it indeed proved as the teacher had said. They sighed deeply and lamented, "Was I once not the right person? Or was the teacher concealing it from us?" The two swore an oath, "Whichever of us first attains the ambrosia [of the Dharma] must surely inform the other." (Therefore the Fo benxing jing says: At that time, Śāriputra saw the monk Aśvajit entering the city to beg for food. All the people inside the city discussed him together and recited a verse, saying: / "He skillfully restrains his sense faculties, / His deportment is always serene and settled; / Smiling, he speaks fine words— / This must surely be a disciple of the Śākyan." / At that time Śāriputra immediately questioned him, "Does your Great Master's virtue and spiritual power also surpass yours?" At that time, Aśvajit—rendered in the Sui language as "horse-dwelling"—then replied in verse, saying: / "Like a mustard seed against Mount Sumeru, / A cow's footprint compared to the great ocean, / A mosquito set beside a garuḍa, / So am I compared to him. / Even if śrāvakas cross to the other shore, / Though accomplished in the various grounds, they are still disciples; / Before that Master they do not count in the reckoning; / They are far distinct from the majestic virtue of that World-Honoured One." / Thereupon Śāriputra again heard him recite the verse: / "All phenomena arise from causes and conditions, / And likewise cease through causes and conditions; / My Master, the Great Śramaṇa, / Constantly teaches such a Dharma." / Having heard this, Śāriputra immediately attained the vision of the truth and obtained purity of the Dharma eye. Śāriputra, having attained the fruit of a srotāpanna, then also spoke this verse to Maudgalyāyana. Maudgalyāyana, hearing Śāriputra speak it, likewise attained the fruit of a srotāpanna. Thereupon Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana, bringing their five hundred followers, went together to where the Buddha was, and all attained the fruit of an arhat. According to the Sifen lü and other sūtras, all say there were one thousand two hundred and fifty people who arrived at the Buddha's place and attained the fruit of an arhat.) Relying on the treatise, the question is asked: Why is he named Śāriputra? The answer says: This is a name given by his mother. In the land of Magadha there is a great city named Rājagṛha. The king was named Bimbisāra. There was a brahmin debate master named Māṭhara. Because he was skilled in debate, the king rewarded him with a fief of a village not far from the city. This Māṭhara then established a household, and his wife bore a daughter whose eyes resembled the eyes of a śāri bird; thus they named this girl Śāri. Next, she bore a son whose knee bones were coarse and large, named Koṣṭhila (rendered in the language of Qin as "Big Knees"). Having a household and raising a son and daughter, the scriptures he had studied all grew stale and old, and he no longer applied himself to new learning. At that time, in South India, there was a great brahmin debate master named Tiṣya, thoroughly versed and skilled in the eighteen great scriptures. This man entered the city of Rājagṛha with fire upon his head and his belly wrapped in sheets of copper. When people asked him why, he said, "The scriptures I have learned are so numerous that I fear my belly will burst; therefore I wrap it." They also asked, "Why do you wear fire upon your head?" He answered, "Because of the great darkness." The multitude said, "The sun has risen and shines brightly; why do you speak of darkness?" He answered, "Darkness is of two kinds: first, that where the sunlight does not shine; second, the darkness of ignorance. Now, though there is the brightness of the sun, ignorance remains black." The multitude said, "You simply have not yet seen the brahmin debate master Māṭhara. If you saw him, your belly would shrink and your light would turn to darkness." This brahmin went straight to the drum and beat the debate-drum. The king heard it and asked who this man was. The ministers answered, "In South India there is a brahmin named Tiṣya; he is a great debate master who seeks a place for debate, and therefore he beats the debate-drum." The king was greatly pleased, immediately assembled the multitude, and announced to them, "Whoever is able to refute him may debate with him." When Māṭhara heard of this, he doubted himself: "My learning has grown stale and I have not studied newly; I do not know whether I can debate with him now." Hesitant and bowed, he set out; on the road he saw two bulls locking horns. In his heart he formed a thought: "This bull is me, that bull is him; by this omen I will know who wins." This bull was defeated, so he became deeply sorrowful and thought to himself, "With such an omen, I will surely be defeated." As he was about to enter the assembly, he saw a woman holding a jar of water directly before him; she stumbled to the ground and broke the jar. He again thought, "This too is inauspicious," and became extremely unhappy. When he entered the assembly and saw that debate master, whose facial expression and bearing were fully endowed with superior marks, he knew himself to be inferior. Having no choice, he engaged in debate with him; once the debate began, he fell into defeat. The king was greatly pleased: "A man of great wisdom and clarity has come from afar to my kingdom!" and wished to grant him a fief of a village. The ministers deliberated, saying, "When one clever man comes, he is immediately granted a village; meritorious ministers are not rewarded, while only skill in debate is favoured—we fear this is not the way to secure the state and preserve families. Now that Māṭhara is inferior in debate, his fief should be stripped and given to the victor; if there is another who is superior, it should be given to him in turn." The king took their advice and immediately stripped it from him to give to the newcomer. At that time, Māṭhara said to Tiṣya, "You are a clever man; I will give you my daughter as a wife. I entrust my young son to you. Now I wish to go far away to another country to pursue my original aspiration." Tiṣya took the daughter as his wife. When the wife was pregnant, she dreamed of a man clad in armor, holding a vajra in his hand, who smashed various mountains and stood beside a great mountain. Upon waking, she told her husband, "I had such a dream." Tiṣya said, "You will give birth to a son who will subdue all debate masters, defeated by only one person, whose disciple he will always be." When Śāri was pregnant, on account of the child, the mother also became clever and was extraordinarily skilled in debate. When her younger brother Koṣṭhila debated with his elder sister, he was defeated each time. He knew that the child she carried must possess great wisdom: "If he is like this before he is born, how much more so after he is born!" He immediately left home to study the Way, went to South India, and without trimming his fingernails read the eighteen kinds of scriptures, making himself thoroughly versed in all of them. Therefore, the people of the time called him the Long-Nailed Brahma-cārin (Dīrghanakha). After the sister's child was born, seven days later, they wrapped him in white cotton cloth to show his father. His father reflected: "My name is Tiṣya; following my name, let his name be Upatisya" (upa in the language of Qin means "following"; Tiṣya is the name of a constellation). This was the name given by the father and mother. Because he was born of Śāri, the multitude together called him Śāriputra (putra means "son"). Furthermore, regarding Śāriputra: by his original vow in lifetime after lifetime, he was to become the foremost disciple in wisdom under the Buddha Śākyamuni, named Śāriputra. It was due to the conditions of this original vow that he was named Śāriputra.

53.14

The question is asked: If that is so, why is he not called Upatiṣya, but only called Śāriputra? The answer says: The people of the time held his mother in high esteem, as she was foremost in intelligence among all women; on account of this circumstance, he was called Śāriputra.

53.15

Furthermore, the Fo benxing jing says: When the Buddha was in the city of Śrāvastī, midway there was a great tree named the śiṃśapā. Under the shade of that tree, many brahmins were resting. Seeing Ānanda approaching from afar, the brahmins said to one another, "You should know that this is a disciple of the Śramaṇa Gautama, the foremost among all who are intelligent and learned." Having said this, Ānanda arrived, and they addressed him, "Good Sir, we now ask you to examine this tree: how many leaves does it have in all?" At that time, Ānanda, having looked at the tree, replied to them, "The eastern branch has so many hundreds and so many thousands of leaves in total." Likewise for the southern branch, western branch, and northern branch, he said, "It has so many hundreds and so many thousands of leaves in total." Having spoken these words, he departed. At that time, after Ānanda had left, those brahmins took several hundred leaves and hid them to one side. When Ānanda returned, the brahmins asked again, "Good Sir Ānanda, have you come back? Please examine this tree again: how many leaves does it have?" At that time, Ānanda looked up at the tree, and knowing the number of several hundred leaves that the brahmins had plucked and hidden, he immediately answered those brahmins, saying, "The eastern branch has so many hundreds and so many thousands of leaves in total." Likewise for the southern branch, western branch, and northern branch, he also said, "It has so many hundreds and so many thousands of leaves in total." Having spoken these words, he passed on. At that time, those brahmins felt a sense of rarity and unprecedented wonder, and said to one another, "This śramaṇa is exceedingly clever and possesses great wisdom!" Through this circumstance, the brahmins attained right faith in their hearts. Having attained right faith, not long afterward they all went forth from home and attained the fruit of an arhat. (Briefly recounted are one or two instances; the rest are fully detailed in the scripture.)

53.16

The verse says:

53.17

With agile wit he skillfully debated and countered,
Skillfully guiding so that hearts were subdued.
The eight waters moisten the parched sprouts;
The three knowledges open the blind eyes.
The incoming questions were each different,
Yet the answering replies were all fragrant and rich.
He hoped to discard the terrors of the four dragons,
And also eliminate the pursuit of the two mice.
The mind-tree puts forth flowers of emptiness;
The heart-lotus gives off a subtle fragrance.
Comparing this to the changes of the blue sea,
Or likening it to the ripening of the mango.
His wondrous wisdom is comparable to patterned brocade;
His profound words are like misty gauze.
Skillful learning differs from the Brahma-nails;
True words are distinct from the iron-plated belly.

53.18

Accounts of Sympathetic Resonance (briefly citing four testaments)

53.19

Zhao Zheng, Grand Administrator under the Qin
Shi Sengrui, Śramaṇa of the Jin
Zhi Xiaolong, Śramaṇa of the Jin
Kang Sengyuan, Śramaṇa of the Jin

53.20

Zhao Zheng, a minister under Fu Jian of the Qin and Grand Administrator of Wuwei, set his will on loyal governance and greatly promoted the Buddhadharma. When Fu Jian was first defeated and armed uprisings arose on every side, foreign rebels gave free rein to violence, and the common people fled in all directions. Yet that the great scriptures could be transmitted and translated was entirely through the efforts of Zhao Zheng. Furthermore, Zheng, whose courtesy name was Wenye, was a native of Changshui in Luoyang, or, as some say, a native of Jiyin. At the age of eighteen, he became an Editorial Director under the illegitimate Qin. Later, he was promoted to Palace Attendant and then Grand Administrator of Wuwei. By nature he was beardless and emaciated; he had a wife and concubines but no children, so people of his time called him a eunuch. However, he was quick-witted and discerning in temperament, his learning spanning both the inner [Buddhist] and outer [secular] teachings. He was fond of satirical remonstrance, never shying away from speaking out. In his later years, Fu Jian was besotted by the Xianbei and grew negligent in state affairs. Thereupon [Zhao Zheng] admonished him in song, singing:

53.21

"In ancient times I heard of the Mengjin River,
Making a single bend across a thousand leagues.
These waters were originally pure;
Who has stirred them up and made them turbid?"
Jian was moved and said, "It is I." Then [Zhao Zheng] sang again:

53.22

"In the northern garden there is a jujube tree,
Spreading its leaves to cast a deep shade.
Though outside it abounds with thorns,
Inside it truly possesses a red heart."

53.23

Jian laughed and said, "Could this be anyone other than Zhao Wenye?" His playful, quick-witted jokes were all of this sort. Later, because of the flourishing of the Buddhadharma in the Guanzhong region, he wished to renounce household life. Jian cherished him and would not permit it. Only after Jian's death did he finally fulfill his aspiration, changing his name to Daozheng. He then composed a verse saying:

53.24

"Why was the Buddha born so late?
Why did he enter nirvāṇa so early?
I take refuge in Śākyamuni,
And now come to devote myself to the Great Way."

53.25

Later, he secluded himself in the Shangluo Mountains, dedicating himself single-mindedly to the sūtras and vinaya. Xi Hui, Regional Inspector of Yongzhou under the Jin, admired his character and compelled him to travel together with him. He passed away in Xiangyang at the age of sixty-odd years.

53.26

In Chang'an during the Jin, there was Shi Sengrui, a native of Changle in Weijun. He was widely versed in sūtras and treatises, possessing a sharp intellect and debating ability that few could match. Yao Xing and Yao Song accorded him extraordinary courtesy and respect. Xing asked Song, "How is the Venerable Rui?" Song answered, "He is truly the pine and cypress of Ye and Wei." Xing ordered an audience with him, wishing to observe his talents and capacities. Rui's demeanor was unrestrained, and the words he uttered were refined and elegant. Xing was greatly pleased and impressed, and immediately ordered that he be provided with an official stipend, clerks, and a litter carried by servants. Xing later said to Song, "He is a leader of the four seas; how could he merely be the pine and cypress of Ye and Wei?" Thereupon his fine reputation spread far and wide, and people from near and far turned to his virtue. The scriptures translated by [Kumāra]jīva were all inspected and emended by Rui. Formerly, when Zhu Fahu translated the *Zheng fahua jing* (Saddharmapuṇḍarīka-sūtra), coming to the Chapter on Receiving Prophecy, it read, "Deities see humans, and humans see deities." When Jīva translated the sūtra to this point, he said, "These words agree in meaning with the Western Regions, but the phrasing is overly plain." Rui said, "Could it not be: 'Humans and deities intermingle, both being able to see each other'?" Jīva rejoiced and said, "Indeed it is so!" His discernment and insights were all of this kind. Jīva sighed and said, "That in my transmission and translation of sūtras and treatises I have been able to meet you leaves me truly with no regrets!" [Rui] composed prefaces to the *Dazhidu lun*, the *Shi'ermen lun*, the *Zhong lun*, and other treatises, and also composed prefaces to the *Large Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra*, the *Lotus Sūtra*, the *Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa*, the *Viśeṣacintibrahma-paripṛcchā*, and the *Meditation Sūtra*, all of which circulate in the world. Rui promoted and praised the scriptural teachings, constantly dedicating this karma with the vow to be reborn in the Land of Peace and Sustenance (Sukhāvatī). Thereupon, on the day of his death, he entered his room, bathed, burned incense, made prostrations, and returned to his bed. Facing the west with joined palms, he passed away. On that day, everyone in the same monastery saw five-colored fragrant smoke emerging from Rui's room. He was sixty-seven years of age.

53.27

In Huaiyang during the Jin, there was Zhi Xiaolong, a native of Huaiyang. From youth, his demeanor and poise were held in high regard; moreover, his spirit and vitality were preeminent, and his elevated discourses were such that, in his day, no one could rival him. Ruan Shan of Chenliu and Yu Kai of Yingchuan both became his intimate friends. The people of the time called them the Eight Untrammeled Ones. Sometimes someone mocked him, saying, "The Great Jin has risen like a dragon, and the realm takes it as their standard. Why does a śramaṇa not preserve his hair and skin, cast off the kāṣāya, remove the Brahma-robes, and dress in damask and silk?" Long said, "I embrace the One to wander freely, and rely solely on quiescence to attain sincerity. Shaving the hair and disfiguring the appearance, altering the garments and changing the physical form: they consider this my disgrace, while I discard their glory. Therefore, having no mind for noble status, I become ever more noble; having no mind for sufficiency, I become ever more sufficient." His sharp wit suited to each occasion was always of this kind. Hence Sun Chuo composed a eulogy for him, saying:

53.28

"A small measure is easy to imitate;
A great vessel is difficult to portray.
Valiant was Xiaolong,
Capable of transcending to the high and vast.
Creatures vied to turn to him as their standard;
People yearned to emulate and look up to him.
Like cloud springs overflowing,
Like orchid breezes spreading their fragrance."

53.29

Kang Sengyuan of the Jin was originally a man of the Western Regions, born in Chang'an. Though his appearance was that of a foreigner, his speech was truly that of China. His bearing was dignified and upright, and his aspirations and achievements were grand and profound. In the reign of Emperor Cheng of the Jin, he crossed the Yangtze River together with Kang Fachang, Zhi Mindu, and others. Chang also possessed talent and intellect, being skilled in exchange and dialogue; he authored the *Treatise on the Prime Meaning of Figures and Things* and other works. Chang always held a deer-tail whisk; whenever he encountered famous guests while traveling, he would engage in pure talk for the entire day. Yu Yuangui said to Chang, "Why is this deer-tail whisk always in your possession?" Chang said, "The incorruptible do not seek it, and the greedy are not given it; thus it can always remain with me." Yuan's quick wit exceeded even that of Chang. At that time, Wang Maohong of Langye, seeing that Yuan had a high nose and deep-set eyes, frequently teased him. Yuan said, "The nose is the mountain of the face; the eyes are the abysses of the face. If a mountain is not high, it is not numinous; if an abyss is not deep, it is not clear." People of the time considered this a famous reply.

53.30

Section 59: Stupidity and Folly (This contains three parts)

53.31

Part on Stating the Intent
Part on Panthaka
Part on Miscellaneous Stupidity

53.32

Part 1: Stating the Intent

53.33

Now, stupidity and folly are the root of the multitude of afflictions and the fountainhead of obstacles to the Path. They cause one to be muddled and stagnant in the three realms of existence, and to sink and drown in the four floods. The six senses are constantly closed, while the three poisons are constantly open. When questioned, their mouths falter; when uttering words, they turn into raving. Great folly cannot spread its wings; love of fame cannot gallop on its feet. To gather a wholesome mind is as slender as the tip of a fine hair; to extract the vicious and obstinate is like plucking prey from a tiger's mouth. Unable to distinguish 'yu' from 'lu' or beans from wheat, what do they know? The extremity of their stupidity and delusion is such that no transgression could be greater.

53.34

Part 2: Panthaka

53.35

As the *Samantapāsādikā* states: 'Panthaka' means 'born by the roadside'. Why is this? Panthaka's mother was originally the daughter of a very wealthy elder. The elder had only this one daughter and loved her with great tenderness. He built a seven-storied tower to house this daughter, and sent a servant-boy to supply her needs. When the servant-boy grew up, he engaged in illicit relations with her. She then conferred with the servant, saying: 'I will now flee with you to another kingdom.' Having asked the servant three times in this way, the servant said he could not go. The daughter said to the servant: 'If you do not go, when my parents find out, they will surely kill you.' The servant replied: 'If I go to another place, I will be poor and without money or jewels; how shall we live?' The daughter said to the servant: 'Follow me, and I will steal precious jewels to take along with you.' The servant answered: 'If that is so, I will go with you.' Daily, this daughter stole precious jewels and gave them to the servant, who carried them outside and hid them. Having calculated enough for two heavy loads, she sent the servant out first to make an appointment outside. The daughter disguised herself in a maidservant's clothes, locked the door from the outside, and went out. Accompanying the servant, she reached a distant kingdom where they settled down. In a year or two, she became pregnant and was about to give birth. She thought to herself: 'Now that I am here, if I give birth, there is no one to care for me.' Yearning for her mother, she wished to return home. She conferred with her husband, but the servant-husband would not go, saying: 'If I return, they will surely kill me.' When her husband went into the mountains to chop firewood and was absent, she locked the door and left. When the husband returned and did not see his wife, he asked the neighbors: 'Have you seen my wife?' They answered: 'Your wife has already left.' Her husband pursued and overtook her halfway, where his wife had already given birth to a boy. The husband said to the wife: 'You left because you wanted to give birth. Now that you have given birth, why need you go?' Hearing this, the wife returned. Not long after, she became pregnant again. About to give birth, she fled once more, and halfway on the road she gave birth to another boy. Her husband pursued her, and they returned together halfway. Because both boys were born by the roadside, they were named Panthaka. When the Panthaka brothers played with their peers, the two boys, being strong, beat the other children. The other children reviled them, saying: 'You have no family or kinsmen, being all alone here; how dare you beat us?' Hearing this rebuke, the boys returned home weeping and asked their mother about the matter. Their mother was silent and did not answer. Her boys wept and refused to eat or drink. Seeing them not eating, the mother felt tender compassion for the two boys and told them the truth. Having heard it, the two boys said to their mother: 'Send us to our maternal grandfather's house; we cannot stay here.' Their mother refused, but the two boys wept incessantly. The mother conferred with her husband, and they escorted them to the outside of her father's gate, sending someone to inform them. Hearing this, the parents answered: 'Let the two boys enter, but you need not see us.' The elder immediately sent someone to welcome the two boys inside. Once inside, they were bathed with scented warm water and dressed in clothes and necklaces. Embracing the two boys and placing them upon his knees, he asked: 'How does your mother live in that other place? Is she not extremely destitute?' The two boys replied: 'In that other place she is poor, selling firewood to sustain herself.' Hearing this with tender compassion, the mother [i.e., grandmother] filled a pouch with gold and sent it to the daughter, saying: 'You leave the two boys, and I myself will raise them. Take this gold back to your former dwelling, sustain yourself well, and do not see me.' When the two boys grew up, wives were taken for them. When the grandparents grew old and were on the verge of death, they entrusted their entire household estate to the two boys. After the grandparents passed away, the elder brother entrusted the household affairs to the younger brother and renounced household life. Not long after renouncing household life, he attained arhatship. The younger brother grew weary of worldly life, and later went to his elder brother seeking to renounce household life. The elder brother admitted him. The elder brother taught him a single verse, but after four months he could not master it, forgetting the beginning and losing the end. The elder brother scolded him, thinking: 'This person has no affinity with the Buddhadharma; he should be sent back home.' Thereupon, he pulled his kāṣāya and drove him out the gate. Weeping outside the gate, he did not want to return home. At that time, the World-Honoured One observed sentient beings with his divine eye and saw that Cūḍapanthaka had the conditions for deliverance. Coming to his place, he asked why he was weeping. Panthaka fully answered the World-Honoured One regarding the circumstances of his brother driving him out. The Buddha knew this was not someone a śrāvaka could deliver, which was why he had been cast out. The World-Honoured One comforted his mind, and gave a small piece of white fine cotton cloth to Cūḍapanthaka, [saying]: 'Hold this fine cotton cloth, rub it facing the sun, and reflect thus: "Remove defilement, remove defilement."' Having instructed him, the World-Honoured One entered the settlement to accept the invitation of Viśākhā-mātā. When it was near midday, the World-Honoured One, observing that Panthaka was about to attain the fruit of the Path, spoke a verse saying:

53.36

"He who enters quiescence rejoices;
Seeing the Dharma, he attains peace and bliss.
Foremost is the joy of being free from hostility,
Inflicting no harm upon sentient beings.
In the world, freedom from desire is joyful,
Going forth and leaving behind covetous desire.
If one subdues self-conceit,
This is the supreme bliss."

53.37

At that time, hearing this verse from afar, Cūḍapanthaka immediately attained the fruit of arhatship. Furthermore, the *Ekottarika-āgama* states: The Buddha taught Cūlikapanthaka to hold a broom and recite [its name]. When reciting 'sweep', he forgot 'broom'; when reciting 'broom', he forgot 'sweep'. Only after several days did he manage to remember 'sweep-broom'. It was also called 'removing defilement'. Panthaka reflected: 'Dirt, earth, tiles, and stones: if removed, there is purity. The fetters are defilements; wisdom can remove them. I now use the broom of wisdom to sweep away all fetters.'

53.38

Furthermore, the *New Mahāvibhāṣā-śāstra* says: His elder brother taught him a single gāthā verse, but after four months he still could not recite it. His elder brother scolded and expelled him. At that time, the World-Honoured One saw him weeping, took pity on him, and by divine power transformed the gāthā he had been reciting and taught it to him anew. He was immediately able to recite it, surpassing the effort he had spent over those four months. [The Buddha] then separately taught him a verse on removing dust and defilement, and told him: "Today, when bhikṣus arrive from outside, you may wipe off all the dust and dirt on their leather shoes." Cūḍapanthaka reverently agreed and practiced according to the instruction. At dusk, there was a bhikṣu whose leather shoes were heavily soiled with dust and dirt. Cūḍapanthaka wiped them; one was completely clean, but though he wiped the other vigorously, it could not be made clean. He then reflected: "The dust and dirt of external objects is merely temporarily attached, yet it still cannot be cleansed; how much more so with the inner defilements of greed, hatred, and ignorance, which have tainted the mind through the long night—how could they be cleansed?" As he had this thought, the contemplation of impurity and the mindfulness of breathing immediately appeared before him. In sequence, he then attained the fruit of an arhat. Question: By what cause was Cūḍapanthaka so dim and dull? Answer: In the past, in the Dharma of Kāśyapa Buddha, the venerable Cūḍapanthaka fully received and maintained that Buddha's tripiṭaka. Because his mind was veiled by the defilement of stinginess with the Dharma, he never received the texts, explained the meanings, or taught them to others, and through neglect he forgot the principles. Due to that karma, he now received such an extremely dim and dull result. Some say that this venerable one was once a pig dealer in the city of Vārāṇasī. He bound the muzzles of five hundred pigs, loaded them onto a boat, and carried them to the other shore. When he unloaded them from the boat, because their breathing was blocked, all the pigs had died. By the force of that karma, he was dim and dull like this. Some say that in another past life, this venerable one once blocked the entrance to the burrow of an iguana-beast so that it could not come out, and it died inside. Due to that karma, he was dim and dull like this.

53.39

Furthermore, the *Chuchu jing* says: The Buddha said: "In the past, the bhikṣu Cūḍapanthaka studied for twenty-four years and grasped only five words, yet he understood defilement and had no grief. Why? Due to his past lives, he had seen five hundred Buddhas and was fully conversant with all the scriptures. But because he kept the scriptural teachings secret and refused to teach others, he later fell ill for twenty-four days; only when facing death did he repent and call for someone to teach them. Having this one meritorious deed, he therefore came to know five words. How much more so if one fully teaches others: the merit obtained is beyond measure!"

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法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese