法苑珠林 64

English (machine translation) 64

Language: English

64.1

Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

64.2

Section 73: Fishing and Hunting
Section 74: Compassion

64.3

Section on Fishing and Hunting (This has two parts)

With reverence we examine: The Tathāgata established his teachings, profoundly esteeming benevolence and compassion; among the articles of precepts, the prohibition against killing is paramount. Sentient beings are defiled by greed and cherish their own bodies, punishing and harming the lives of others to nurture their own flesh. Bound by the craving for savoury flavours, they practice fishing and hunting in a hundred ways; coveting sweet and fatty meats, they set snares and nets of ten thousand kinds. Some hold falcons and loose hounds, braving and crossing hills and mounds; clasping swords and raising spears, they burst through forests and marshes. Or they lower lines into rivers and seas, and cast nets over streams and lakes, angling for fish with fragrant bait and shooting birds with golden pellets. Thus light scales lose their lives and frail feathers cut short their years; burrows are bereft of new litters, and nests are void of old eggs. Having exhausted the grassy marshes, they call their companions to make merry and return. Thereupon the fat melts in cauldrons and kettles, and flesh is minced from withered forms; consciousness adheres to the soup, and the soul lingers in the sliced fish. How could they expect their own bodies to be precious while other lives are deemed light, thereby destroying the forms of others to nourish their own bodies and lives? Caring only for their palates, they disregard bitter agony; merely for the kitchen, they recklessly inflict slaughter and dissection. This causes enemies and grudges to fill the underworld, and debt collectors to pursue them across the entire empty realm. With signs of unwholesome karma, they adorn themselves; never for an instant do they cast off their various evil disciplines. For this reason, the Bodhisattva knits his brows, and the Great Being weeps tears. Yet consider that through the four forms of birth they alternately undergo rebirth, transmigrating in the six destinies. A storehouse of enmity in this life was once a closest relative in the past; an intimate friend of a former life has now become an estranged acquaintance. Having transformed their forms and altered their appearances, they no longer recognize each other. Perishing there and being born here—how can this be fathomed? But for the Path of Compassion, rescuing and extricating come first; within the Bodhisattva's bosom, sympathetic deliverance serves as the practice. One should always traverse the hells throughout, taking on suffering in their stead, widely delivering sentient beings and bestowing peace and happiness.

64.6

Part 2: Citing Evidence

64.7

As the Nirvāṇa Sūtra states: There are sixteen kinds of evil discipline. What are the sixteen? First, raising sheep and lambs for profit, selling them once fattened. Second, buying them for profit to butcher and slaughter. Third, raising swine and pigs for profit, selling them once fattened. Fourth, buying them for profit to butcher and slaughter. Fifth, raising cattle and calves for profit, selling them once fattened. Sixth, buying them for profit to butcher and slaughter. Seventh, keeping chickens to make them fat for profit, selling them once fattened. Eighth, buying them for profit to butcher and slaughter. Ninth, angling for fish. Tenth, being a hunter. Eleventh, robbery and pillage. Twelfth, being an executioner. Thirteenth, netting flying birds. Fourteenth, double-tongued speech. Fifteenth, being a jailer. Sixteenth, charming serpents. Being able to forever cut off these sixteen evil karmas for the sake of sentient beings is called cultivating the precepts.

64.8

Furthermore, the Miśrakābhidharmahṛdaya-śāstra states: There are twelve kinds of abiding in non-discipline: 1. Butchering sheep; 2. Raising chickens; 3. Raising swine; 4. Catching birds; 5. Catching fish; 6. Being a hunter; 7. Being a thief; 8. Being an executioner; 9. Guarding a prison; 10. Charming serpents; 11. Butchering dogs; 12. Stalking game. 'Butchering sheep' refers to killing sheep: whether raising, selling, or killing with a murderous intent, all are termed butchering sheep. Raising chickens and raising swine are also like this. 'Catching birds' means killing birds to sustain oneself; catching fish and being a hunter are also both like this. 'Being a thief' means constantly carrying out robbery and harm. 'Being an executioner' means taking charge of executing people to sustain oneself. 'Guarding a prison' means sustaining oneself by guarding a prison. 'Charming serpents' means practising the charming of serpents to make sport and sustain oneself. 'Butchering dogs' refers to caṇḍālas. 'Stalking game' refers to the royal hunt master.

64.9

Furthermore, the Abhidharmasamuccaya-vyākhyā states: Concerning non-disciplined karma, what is termed 'non-disciplined'? It refers to butchering sheep, raising chickens, raising swine, catching birds, catching fish, hunting deer, snaring hares, robbery, execution, slaughtering cattle, binding elephants, erecting altars to charm serpents, guarding a prison, slander and intrigue, delighting in doing harm, and the like. 'Butchering sheep' means butchering, raising, buying, and selling in order to sustain one's life. The same applies to raising chickens, swine, and so forth, as appropriate. 'Binding elephants' means constantly dwelling in mountain forests to tame and capture wild elephants. 'Erecting altars to charm serpents' means practising the charming of serpents to make sport and sustain oneself. 'Slander and intrigue' means using divisive speech to ruin others' close relations and relying on it to sustain one's life. 'Either due to being born into that clan, or due to undertaking that vocation' means either being born into that household, or being born into another household, and undertaking to perform that activity according to their sequence. 'Determination' means that bodily and vocal expedients precede a firm vow to engage in that activity. This is termed non-disciplined karma.

64.10

Furthermore, the Avadāna Sūtra states: In the Southern Sea, surging waves suddenly flooded the land, and three large fish were swept into shallow water. They said to one another: 'We are in distress here; while the floodwaters have not yet receded, we should swim upstream and return to the great ocean.' But they were obstructed by a water boat and could not cross over. The first fish leaped over the boat with all its might and succeeded in crossing. The next fish then relied on grass and succeeded in crossing over. The third fish was utterly exhausted in strength and was captured by a hunter. Seeing this, the Buddha spoke a verse:

64.11

This day has already passed, / And life is correspondingly diminished; / Like fish with little water, / What joy can there be in this?

64.12

Furthermore, the Bodhisattva-jātaka-sūtra says: King Prasenajit had a great minister named Śīla (Shizhi), whose wealth was immeasurable and who was ripe for deliverance. Śāriputra expounded the sūtra teachings for him. Hearing the Dharma, Śīla felt no yearning for glory or high status, and sought to leave the household life. He then turned over all his household estates and business to his younger brother. Having shaved his head and beard and donned the kāṣāya, he went into the deep mountains to sit in meditation and practice the Way. His wife, sorrowful and longing for her former husband, would not submit to the younger brother. Seeing his sister-in-law's yearning, the younger brother feared his elder brother would break his vows, return, and reclaim the estate. He therefore said to a bandit chieftain, "I will hire you for five hundred gold coins to cut off that śramaṇa's head and bring it to me." The bandit chieftain took the money, went into the mountains, and saw the śramaṇa. The śramaṇa said to him, "I have only tattered robes and no property. Why have you come?" The bandit then answered, "Your younger brother hired me to come and kill you." The śramaṇa said to the bandit, "I am newly made a practitioner of the Way and do not yet understand the Dharma of the Way. Do not kill me yet. Wait until I have seen the Buddha and come to understand a little of the sūtras and Dharma; it will not be too late to kill me then." The bandit said to him, "I must kill you today. It cannot be stopped." The śramaṇa then raised an arm and said to the bandit, "Cut off one arm first, and spare the rest of my life so that I may be able to see the Buddha." Thereupon the bandit cut off one arm and took it away to give to the younger brother. At this, the śramaṇa went to see the Buddha. The Buddha expounded the Dharma for him: "Over countless kalpas, the blood from your severed head, hands, and feet has been more than the water in the four great oceans; the piled bones of your bodies have been higher than Mount Sumeru; the tears of your weeping have exceeded the four great rivers; the milk you drank from your mothers has been more than all rivers and seas. All who have a body undergo numerous sufferings; all these numerous sufferings arise from habitual afflictions. You should only contemplate the Eightfold Noble Path (āryāṣṭāṅgamārga)." Hearing what the Buddha expounded, his mind was suddenly opened to understanding. Directly before the Buddha, he attained the fruition of an arhat, and then let go of his bodily life and entered parinirvāṇa. The bandit, carrying the arm, took it to the younger brother. The brother then took the arm and placed it before his sister-in-law, saying to the woman, "You were always saying you longed for your former husband. Here is his arm." The woman wept bitterly and went to inform the king. The king investigated and found it to be completely true; he then put the younger brother to death. The bhikṣus asked the Buddha, "What evil deed did this śramaṇa commit in a past life that he should suffer having his arm cut off now? And what roots of virtue did he cultivate that he now encountered the World-Honoured One and attained the status of an arhat?" The Buddha told the bhikṣus: "Long ago in the past, in the kingdom of Vārāṇasī, there was a king named Brahmadatta. He went out on a hunt, pursuing running beasts, and lost his way, not knowing where to exit. The trees and grasses touched the sky, and there was no other plan by which he could get out. He was seized by great terror. Continuing forward, he saw a pratyekabuddha. The king asked him, 'I have lost the trail. From where may I get out? Where are my soldiers, horses, and men?' At that time, the pratyekabuddha had a malignant sore on his arm and could not raise his hand; he then pointed out the trail with his foot. The king grew enraged: 'This is my subject. Seeing me, he did not stand up, and he pointed out the trail with a single foot!' The king drew his sword and cut off his arm. At that time, the pratyekabuddha thought to himself: 'If the king does not repent and reproach himself, he will undergo severe karmic retribution with no time of release.' Thereupon the pratyekabuddha, right before the king, flew up into empty space and manifested transformations of spiritual power. Seeing this, the king cast himself upon the ground, cried out loudly in lamentation, repented of his error, and apologized, saying, 'I only pray that you descend and receive my repentance (deśanā).' At that time, the pratyekabuddha came down and received his repentance, and then entered nirvāṇa. The king collected his remains, erected a stūpa, and made offerings of flowers and incense. He constantly repented and made vows before the stūpa, and so attained deliverance. The king of that time was this very śramaṇa. Because he cut off the pratyekabuddha's arm, across five hundred lifetimes he has constantly suffered having his arm cut off and dying, right up to the present day. Because of his repentance, he did not fall into hell, and he attained deliverance and realized the path of an arhat." The Buddha told the bhikṣus, "All disasters and blessings never decay or perish." When the bhikṣus heard this, there were none who were not terrified and awestruck.

64.13

The verse says:

64.14

Pleasure stems from heedlessness; / Suffering brings sorrow to oneself.
Glorious rank, favor, and disgrace / Are precarious as floating clouds.
Fond of fishing and hunting, loving to kill, / One violates compassion and harms one's spirit.
Retribution returns along the path of enmity; / How can such agonizing pain be endured?

64.15

Circumstances of Sympathetic Resonance (Fourteen cases briefly cited)

64.16

Yang Youji of Chu was skilled in archery;
Zhuge Ke went hunting and encountered a strange creature like a small child;
Duke Huan of Lu was killed by Duke Xiang of Qi and became a phantom;
Zhou Ziwen and others of Qiao Commandery in the Jin went hunting and suffered visible retribution;
Ruan Zhizong of the Song was fond of hunting and visibly suffered painful retribution;
Zou Wenli of the Liang made slaughtering his trade and suffered the visible retribution of a great ailment;
General of the Agile Cavalry Wang of the Sui was fond of hunting, and his daughter went mad like a hare;
Jiang Lue, Junior Leader of the Swooping Hawks in the Sui, was fond of hunting and saw flocks of birds demanding his life;
A small boy in the outer township of Jizhou in the Sui roasted chicken eggs to eat and suffered visible retribution;
Li Shou, Duke of Sui'an in the Tang, was fond of hunting, was sued by a dog, and had his flesh cut while alive;
Fang Shankai of Caozhou in the Tang was fond of hunting and visibly suffered distress;
Liu Mo'er of Fenzhou in the Tang was fond of hunting and visibly suffered distress;
Li Zhili of Longxi in the Tang was fond of hunting and visibly suffered distress;
A butcher's boy of Jinzhou in the Tang slaughtered pigs and had proof of retribution.

64.17

The King of Chu was wandering in his park. A white gibbon was there. The king commanded those skilled in archery to shoot it. Several arrows were loosed, but the gibbon caught the arrows and played with them. He then commanded Youji. As soon as Yang Youji grasped the bow, the gibbon hugged a tree and cried out. Also, during the period of the Six States, Geng Lei said to the King of Wei, "I can loose an empty bowstring and bring down a bird." The King of Wei said, "Can archery truly reach such a degree?" Geng Lei said, "It can." A goose was heard coming from the east; Geng Lei released an empty shot, and the bird fell.

64.18

When Zhuge Ke was Governor of Danyang, he went hunting between two mountains. There was a creature resembling a small child that reached out its hand wishing to pull people along. Ke ordered it to stretch forth and leave its native ground; once it left its native ground, it died. When he sat with his attendants, they asked the reason, taking it to be a spirit. Ke said, "This matter is in the Baize tu: 'Between two mountains, its essence resembles a small child; seeing people, it stretches out its hand wishing to pull them; its name is the Siyin; once it departs, it dies.' Do not think it a spirit and marvel at it; you gentlemen simply happened not to have seen it before." (The above two cases are from the Soushen ji.)

64.19

Lady Wen Jiang, wife of Duke Huan of Lu, was the younger sister of Duke Xiang of Qi. Duke Huan and Wen Jiang both went to Qi. Duke Xiang of Qi had illicit relations with his younger sister. Duke Huan reproached Wen Jiang, and Wen Jiang told Duke Xiang. Duke Xiang was enraged, and then drank wine with Duke Huan. When Duke Huan went out, Duke Xiang ordered Prince Pengsheng to escort Duke Huan to his carriage. Pengsheng possessed great strength; he broke Duke Huan's ribs, and Duke Huan died in the carriage. The people of Lu reported to Qi, saying: "Our humble ruler, fearing your majesty's might, dared not rest at ease, and came to renew our old friendship. The rites having been completed, he did not return, and there is nowhere to lay the blame. We wonder what words we may use to announce this to the feudal lords. We ask that Pengsheng be used to eliminate this disgrace." The people of Qi laid the blame on Pengsheng and executed him. Later, Duke Xiang was hunting at Beiqiu, and there was a large boar. An attendant said, "I see that the boar is Pengsheng!" Duke Xiang angrily said, "How dare Pengsheng show himself!" and shot it. The boar then stood upright like a human and wailed. The duke, terrified, fell from his carriage, injured his foot, and returned. His ministers Lian Cheng and Guan Zhifu staged a rebellion and subsequently killed Duke Xiang. (From the Yuanhun zhi.)

64.20

The Xu soushen ji says: After the Jin Restoration, Zhou Ziwen of Qiao Commandery lived in Jinling. In his youth, he took pleasure in hunting with bows. Once, he entered the mountains to hunt. Suddenly, amidst the mountain peaks, he saw a man about fifty feet tall holding a bow and arrow, the arrowhead being about two feet broad and white as frost and snow. He suddenly came out from the crags and called out, "A-shu!" (A-shu was Ziwen's childhood name). Inadvertently, Ziwen responded, "Yes?" This man drew his bow with the arrowhead fully pulled, aiming at Ziwen. Ziwen lost his wits and collapsed in terror.

64.21

The Xu soushen ji says: At the end of the Wu, a man of Linhai entered the mountains to hunt and built a hut to stay in. In the middle of the night, there was a man ten feet tall wearing yellow clothes and a white belt, who came and said to the hunter, "I have an enemy and am destined to fight tomorrow. If you can assist me, I will reward you." The hunter said, "Naturally I can help you, but how shall I distinguish between you?" He replied, "Tomorrow at mealtime, you can go out to the stream. The enemy will come from the north; I will be stationed in the south. The one with a white belt will be me; the one with a yellow belt will be him." The hunter agreed. Going out the next day, he indeed heard sounds on the northern bank like wind and rain, with the trees and grasses flattened in all directions. Looking to the south, it was the same. He saw only two great serpents over a hundred feet long, which met in the stream and coiled around each other. The white-gleaming one's momentum weakened. The hunter therefore drew his crossbow and shot it; the yellow-gleaming one immediately died. As day grew dusk, he saw the man from yesterday again, who came to express gratitude, saying, "Stay here and hunt for one year; next year, be cautious and do not return. If you return, disaster will surely befall you." The hunter said, "Very well." He stayed back and hunted for one year, obtaining very much game, and his family became exceedingly wealthy. Several years later, recalling that the former mountain had much game and forgetting his former words, he went hunting there again. He again saw the man with the white belt from before, who said to him, "I told you not to return, but you could not heed my advice. My enemy's sons have now grown up; today they will surely avenge him upon you, and it is beyond my power." Hearing this, the hunter was terrified and wished to flee. He then saw three men dressed in black, all eight feet tall, all opening their mouths toward him. The hunter immediately died.

64.22

The Lüshi chunqiu says: Tang saw a trapper setting nets spread out on all four sides, praying: "Those coming from heaven, those emerging from the earth, and those coming from the four directions—all be gathered into my net!" Tang said, "Alas, this catches them all! Who else could be like this, if not Jie?"

64.23

Ruan Zhizong of the Song was a native of Hedong. In the sixteenth year of the Yuanjia reign, when Ruan Yin of Sui was Governor of Zhongli, Yin dispatched Zhizong to travel to a distant village, with commandery clerks Gai Gou and Bian Ding accompanying him. Arriving at a commoner's house, he became dazed as if asleep and did not wake again. The commoners, thinking he was dead, carried him outside the gate and were preparing funeral items. After a night passed, he was able to speak, saying: At first, about a hundred men bound Zhizong and took him away. Traveling several tens of li, they reached a Buddhist monastery (stūpa). The saṃgha and offerings were no different from the secular world. A monk said, "You were fond of fishing and hunting, and now you must receive your retribution." They then took Zhizong, flayed his skin, and sliced his flesh into pieces, exactly according to the method of preparing various sacrificial livestock and beasts. They further put him into deep water and hooked him by the mouth to draw him out, cutting and slicing him into mince. Furthermore, they boiled him in cauldrons and roasted him over braziers. At first, he was completely pulped, but immediately returned to his original state; the agonizing pain and bitter venom ceased only after three rounds. They asked whether he wished to live or not. Zhizong then kowtowed and begged for his life. A man of the Way ordered him to squat on the ground and poured water over him, saying, "A single pouring removes five hundred sins." Zhizong bitterly begged for more pourings. The śramaṇa said, "Three are quite enough." Seeing several ants, the man of the Way pointed and said, "Although these are tiny creatures, they must not be killed, not to mention anything larger than this. Meat and fish that die of themselves may be eaten. On the day of a vegetarian feast, wear only newly cleaned clothes; if there are no new ones, they can be washed." Zhizong then asked, "There were three of us on the journey; why am I alone afflicted with this suffering?" The man of the Way said, "Those two men know sin and merit for themselves; knowing it, they intentionally violate it. Only you were ignorant and did not understand karmic retribution; therefore, this was to admonish you." Thereupon he revived, and after several days was able to rise. From then on, he permanently gave up fishing and hunting. (The above case is from the Mingxiang ji.)

64.24

The Xiaozhuangyan Temple of the Liang was in Dingyin Lane in Jiankang. It was originally the site of the shrine of the King of Lingling of the Jin. In the sixth year of the Tianjian reign, Chan Master Dodu founded it. At that time, there was one Zou Wenli, who for generations had slaughtering as his trade. Once he wished to slaughter a deer; the deer knelt down and shed tears. Thinking this inauspicious, he immediately cut it open and eviscerated it. The deer was carrying a fawn and was about to give birth. Facing the butcher's knife, its grief was so piercing that a remorseful heart arose [in him]. Because of this, he fell ill: his eyebrows and beard all fell out, and his body was covered in sores and decayed. Consequently, feeling shame and remorse, he gave rise to deep self-reproach. He sought Chan Master Daodu to openly confess and severely repent, made great vows, gave up his entire family estate, bought this land, and founded a saṃghārāma for him. (Seen in the Liangjing si ji.)

64.25

At the end of the Kaihuang era of the Sui, there was a man from Daizhou surnamed Wang who served as a Cavalry General (piaoji jiangjun) and was garrisoned in Puzhou. By nature he was fond of hunting and killed countless creatures. He had five sons and no daughters. Later, a daughter was born to him who was exquisite and beautiful; everyone who saw her marveled at her and loved her. Her parents cherished her dearly, unlike any ordinary person. After returning to his home village, the villagers and kin made clothes for her and joined together in cherishing and raising her. When the girl was seven years old, one morning she suddenly went missing, and there was nowhere to search for her. Suspecting that the neighbors had hidden her in jest, they asked around, but did not find her. Her elder brothers rode horses far away in search of her and only then caught sight of her, more than thirty li from home. The horses could not keep up with her in pursuit; only when the brothers and several dozen horsemen surrounded her together did they finally catch her. The sounds coming from her mouth resembled the cry of a hare. Thorns gathered on her feet filled double handfuls. After a month or so of not eating, she died. The parents were in such grief and pain that they could not restrain themselves. This was truly caused by the father's hunting, whose calamity reached and was suffered by the daughter. The whole family took up the fasts and pure precepts, unceasingly refining their practice. Cai Xuanming, Assistant of the Court of Judicature and Revision (Dali si cheng), had once been a Judicial Administrator (facao) of the Dai Prefecture commandery, and related this to [Tang] Lin.

64.26

During the Sui dynasty, Jiang Lue of Tianshui, a Hawk-soaring Gentleman-Adjutant (yingyang langjiang), in his youth was fond of hunting and was skilled at unleashing hawks and hounds. Later he fell ill and saw flocks of birds numbering by the thousands, all without heads, encircling Lue's bed and crying out, 'Quickly return our heads!' Thereupon Lue suffered headaches, stopped breathing, and only revived after a long time. He then requested the assembly of monks to swiftly cultivate posthumous merits for the various birds. Once he promised this, they all departed. Soon afterward he recovered. After getting well, for the rest of his life he severed all alcohol and meat and did not kill living beings. When [Tang] Lin was in Longyou, he saw Jiang Lue, who was already about sixty years old, recounting this himself.

64.27

In the early Kaihuang era of the Sui dynasty, there was a young boy aged thirteen in an outer district of Jizhou. He frequently stole his neighbor's chicken eggs, roasted them in hot ashes, and ate them. Later, one morning before the villagers had arisen, someone knocked on the door outside his house, calling the boy's name. His father told the boy to go out and answer. He saw a man who said, 'The authorities summon you.' The boy said, 'If you summon me for corvée labor, let me go inside to get clothes and provisions.' The messenger said, 'There is no need.' He then led the boy out. South of the village were formerly mulberry fields, which had been plowed but not yet sown. At that point, this young boy suddenly saw a small city on the right of the road; the gate-towers on all four sides were adorned with red and white pigments in great solemnity. The boy was surprised and said, 'When did this city come to be here?' The messenger scolded him, telling him not to speak. They then came to the north gate of the city, and [the messenger] bade the young boy enter first. As the boy stepped over the threshold, the city gate suddenly shut. He did not see a single person; it was merely an empty city. The ground was entirely hot ashes and fragmented embers, just deep enough to submerge one's ankles. The boy cried out and ran toward the south gate, but as soon as he neared it, it shut. He ran toward the east and west gates as well, and it was the same in every case: before he arrived they were open, but as soon as he reached them, they closed. At that time, the villagers had gone out to pick mulberry leaves; there were a great many men and women, and they all saw this boy in the plowed fields, running back and forth in all directions with cries coming from his mouth. They all said to one another, 'Is this boy mad? He has been like this since dawn, playing without rest.' When it came to mealtime, the mulberry gatherers all returned. The boy's father asked, 'Did you see my son?' The mulberry gatherers replied, 'Your son is running and playing south of the village; we called him, but he would not come.' The father went outside the village, saw his son running in the distance, and loudly called his name. At a single shout, [the boy] stopped immediately. The city and ashes suddenly disappeared. Seeing his father, he collapsed, weeping and wailing as he told him what happened. When [the father] inspected his feet, from mid-calf upward the flesh and blood were charred dry, and below his knees was scorched and blistered as if broiled. He carried him home to care for and treat him. The flesh from the thighs upward returned to normal, but below the knees it became withered bone. When the neighbors heard of this, they vied to ask about the cause, and he answered just as he had seen. The people examined the place where he had run, and the footprints were clear and unobstructed, with no ashes or fire whatsoever. This was truly because, due to his sinful karma, he perceived hell wherever he went. Thereupon, the people of the district, regardless of whether they were men or women, old or young, all held to the fasts and pure precepts until death without lapse. The monk of great virtue, Dharma Master Daohui, was originally from Jizhou, and recounted this in detail to [Tang] Lin, as he was from an adjacent district.

64.28

During the Tang dynasty, Li Shou, Duke of Sui'an and Area Commander of Jiaozhou, had initially been enfeoffed as a prince due to being of the imperial clan. In the early Zhenguan era, he was relieved of his post and returned to his capital mansion. By nature he was fond of hunting, and constantly kept several couples of hooded hawks, killing others' dogs to feed them. Soon afterward the Duke fell ill, and saw five dogs coming to demand his life. The Duke said to them, 'The one who killed you was my servant, Tongda; it was his fault, not my crime.' The dogs said, 'How could Tongda act on his own authority? Moreover, we did not steal your food, but were merely passing by your front gate, yet you unjustly slaughtered us. We must certainly have our retribution and will never rest.' The Duke apologized for his transgression and offered to cultivate posthumous merits on their behalf. Four of the dogs agreed, but one white dog refused, saying, 'Since I was innocent, you killed me, and before I had even died, you sliced away my flesh while I was still alive. The pain from being cut to ribbons was intense; when I think of this bitterness, how could I let you go?' Shortly thereafter, a person was seen pleading with the dog on his behalf, saying, 'Killing him will bring you no benefit. Is it not better to release him so that he can cultivate posthumous merits for you?' The dog then agreed. A short while later, the Duke revived, but thereupon suffered from hemiplegia, with his limbs unresponsive. Thereupon he cultivated posthumous merits for the dogs, but the Duke's illness ultimately did not heal. Dou Yun, Duke of Yan'an, said that his wife's younger brother related this to [Tang] Lin (the above four verifications are taken from the Mingbao ji).

64.29

Fang Shankai of Chengwu in Caozhou during the Tang dynasty was skilled with bow and arrow from his youth. He was especially fond of hunting and made it his livelihood, killing countless creatures. He died in the eleventh year of the Zhenguan era, and revived after one night, saying: When he first died, he was led away by two men. After traveling about ten li or so, they ascended a mountain. Three ghosts together guided Shankai to climb a ladder to advance. As he was about to reach the top, there was suddenly a large white hawk with beak and talons of iron, which flew up, clawed Shankai's left cheek, and left. There was also a black hawk, likewise with iron beak and talons, which clawed his right shoulder and left. When he reached the mountain peak, he was led into an administrative hall, where he saw an official wearing crimson robes and a black cap on his head, who said to Shankai, 'What meritorious deeds did you do during your lifetime? You may recount them all.' He replied, 'Since establishing myself, I have not cultivated any meritorious deeds.' The official said, 'He may temporarily be led to the southern courtyard to look.' The two men then led him south, arriving at a city that was extraordinarily precipitous. The two men knocked several times on the city's north gate, whereupon the gate immediately opened. He saw that inside the city it was blazing fiercely, entirely with violent flames. Beside the gate were several venomous serpents, each over a hundred feet long, with heads as large as five-bushel boulders, vomiting fire from their mouths as if about to shoot at people. Shankai was terrified and did not know how to escape; he only knew to bow his head and recite the Buddha's name. The gate then opened on its own. He was then brought back to see the official, who intended to send him to receive his punishment. An attendant admonished, saying, 'Shankai is not yet meant to die immediately. We only fear that once he enters this city he will not be able to get out. It would be better to release him for the time being and allow him to cultivate merit.' The official released him, ordering the previous two men to escort him. Descending along the former path, there were again flying hawks that wanted to claw him, but thanks to these two men aiding him, he escaped. Descending the mountain, he then saw a pit, inside of which was foul in the extreme. In a moment of hesitation, he was pushed in by the two men. In an instant he revived. The claw marks were extremely deep and never faded for the rest of his life. Thereafter, Shankai renounced his wife and children, converted his residence into a Buddhist cloister, and constantly took chanting and recitation as his vocation.

64.30

In Xiaoyi County of Fenzhou during the Tang dynasty, there was a man of Quancun named Liu Mo'er. On the twenty-seventh day of the eighth month in the fourth year of the Xianqing era, he encountered an illness and died; his son, Shibao, died the following day as well. Throughout their lives, the conduct of both father and son had been deceitful and dangerous. Their northern neighbor, Qi Longwei, was run over and killed by a cart while gathering firewood, but revived after several days. He saw Mo'er's son, Shibao, in a cauldron of boiling water; in an instant, his skin and flesh were entirely consumed, no longer retaining human shape, and only white bones could be seen. After a good while like this, he returned to his original form. Longwei asked him the reason, and he replied, 'Because of my shooting and hunting, I suffer this punishment.' He further asked Shibao, 'Where is your father?' He replied, 'My father's sins are heavy, so he cannot be seen right away. Since you are returning soon, please inform my household to cultivate fasts and merits on our behalf.' When he finished speaking, he was urged on by an emissary. Advancing to an administrative hall, he saw that the buildings were lofty and imposing, with more than twenty men holding weapons. An official questioned him, saying, 'What meritorious karma have you performed in recent times?' He replied, 'In the first month of last year, Longwei watched the recitation of the entire Canon at Ducun, took off a robe to offer as a gift, and moreover received the five precepts, which I have not violated to this day.' The official then said, 'If it is as you say, your merits are immeasurable; why was there a need for you to come here?' He then called for the register to examine it, and saw that the register said: 'It is true that this person was meant to die.' An annotation at the side read: 'By virtue of the merit from receiving the precepts and giving alms, his life should further be prolonged.' Thereupon a man was sent to escort him back, and he revived immediately.

64.31

During the Tang dynasty, Li Zhili of Longxi was agile in his youth, skilled in archery, capable in horsemanship, and also adept at shooting pellet-bows, killing a great deal. Sometimes he trapped fish in numbers beyond reckoning. In the nineteenth year of the Zhenguan era, he fell slightly ill, and died in three or four days. He then saw a ghost leading a horse that was larger than horses ridden in the mundane world, who said to Zhili, 'King Yama summons you.' He then had Zhili mount the horse. In an instant, they suddenly arrived before the King. The King gave strict orders, saying, 'I dispatch you to subjugate the rebels; you must under no circumstances be defeated. If you are defeated, I will put you to death.' There were twenty-four companions. Looking toward the northeast, the rebels were without boundary; heaven and earth were completely darkened, and dust fell like rain. Zhili and the others were routed. He spoke to his companions, saying, 'The King's order is grave and severe; we would rather die advancing than return in defeat.' Zhili turned his horse around and advanced, shooting three arrows, after which the rebels seemed to shrink back slightly. When he completed five shots, the rebels finally dispersed in defeat. The affair concluded, he went to have an audience with the King. The King reproached Zhili, 'Although your enemy retreated, why were you defeated at the outset of battle?' With hemp he braided his hair, bound his hands and feet, laid him down upon a stone, weighed him down with a large millstone, and ground him. The four men before and after him were all crushed and lacerated in body. When it came to Zhili's turn, he shouted in a strained voice, 'That the rebels were defeated earlier was entirely due to Zhili's strength! If I am still killed by the King, there will be no way to encourage those who come after.' The King thereupon released him, giving no further orders, and let him wander at will. After a total of three days had passed, he set out toward the northwest and entered a walled compound. There was a pack of birds and beasts that could fill more than three mu of land; all came to demand his life, gradually closing in on him. He had once shot and killed a female dog, which ran straight forward and bit his face, and then his body, leaving nothing uninjured. He saw three great ghosts, each fifteen feet tall and of the same girth, who jointly stripped Zhili's skin and flesh. In an instant it was entirely gone, leaving only white bones for his face and eyes, with his five internal organs also visible. They then distributed this flesh to the birds and beasts. His flesh fell away and grew back; as soon as it grew, it was stripped again. Like this for three days, the bitter agony was so extreme it could not be fully recorded. When this was over, the great ghosts, birds, and beasts suddenly vanished entirely. Zhili looked back and saw not a single thing, so he leaped over the wall and fled south, not knowing where he was going. In his mind, it seemed as if one leap covered a thousand li. He again saw a ghost catch up with Zhili, who covered him with an iron cage. Innumerable fish vied to peck and feed upon him. After a long while, the ghost finally turned back, and the fish also disappeared. His family had formerly supported a monk, who had died earlier; this monk came, removed the cage from Zhili, and said to Zhili, 'Danapati, you are exceedingly hungry.' He handed him three white pills shaped like jujubes and told Zhili to eat them. At that moment he was completely sated, and [the monk] said to him, 'Danapati, return home; I too will take my leave.' When Zhili reached the north of his residence, he saw a great pit inside of which various spears and lances were densely planted, so that he could not cross. He saw his elder brother's daughter along with a maidservant carrying a box, with coins, silk, and a vessel of food and drink to the northeast of the pit. In his heart, Zhili thought that this maidservant and his niece were playing, and found it very strange. Turning his head to look north, he immediately saw a ghost advancing straight ahead brandishing a sword. Zhili was terrified, threw his body down into the pit, and immediately revived. From his initial death until his rebirth, a total of six days had passed. Later he asked his household, and learned that his niece had taken paper money and silk to send off Zhili; what he had seen at that time appeared as bronze coins and silk fabric (the above three verifications are taken from the Mingbao ji).

64.32

In the third year of the Xianqing reign of the Tang dynasty, when Xu Yu served as Inspector of Jinzhou, a butcher in the eastern lane of the marketplace slaughtered a pig. Its life was ended, it was scalded with hot water, and all its hair and bristles were scraped off. After half a day had elapsed following its death, greedy to slaughter the other pigs, he had not yet had time to butcher and dismember it. At daybreak, he took a knife to slit its belly, making a long incision downward along the abdomen, but the knife blade had not yet penetrated inside. The pig suddenly rose, ran out of the gate, and dashed straight toward the western wall of the marketplace. It went under the bed inside a worthy man's shop and lay down there. The people of the market vied to go and look at it. The butcher was still pursuing it with his knife in hand. The onlookers asked about the cause, and the butcher replied, “In all my life slaughtering pigs, I have never heard of or seen such a thing!” He still wished to take it away. Several hundred onlookers all rebuked and censured the butcher, and they vied with one another to put up money to ransom it. The crowd jointly built a shelter to house it. Only after a long time did the hair on its body begin to grow. The wounds under its throat and belly healed into a large fleshy wart as thick as a human arm. Going in and out, back and forth, it never soiled its quarters; by nature it was clean, unlike ordinary pigs. It died only after four or five years. (Wang Tongren of Jinyang County in Bingzhou, an Administrative Assistant in the Prince of Xu's Princely Establishment, fully witnessed and recounted this).

64.33

Chapter 74: Compassion (comprising five sections)

64.34

Section on Setting Forth the Purport / Section on Bodhisattvas / Section on Kings / Section on Animals / Section on Contemplating Suffering

64.35

Section 1: Setting Forth the Purport

64.36

Now, all living beings endowed with vital breath possess spiritual consciousness; those that crawl and those that soar alike know fear of death. Thus it is that for bodhisattvas in their practices, saving and succouring come first, while for the Buddhas appearing in the world, great compassion is fundamental. Therefore, standing by the river coveting fish is not as good as weaving a net; observing others receiving blessings is not as good as cultivating the causes. For this reason, if one seeks the reward, nothing surpasses first generating goodness: giving equally to the noble and the lowly, regarding the pure and the defiled with an impartial mind. One should equally revere the merit-field of the Three Jewels and the four modes of birth, and when the moment arrives, always bring relief, providing food and clothing, exhausting the treasures in one's clenched fist and renouncing the amusements of eyes and ears. Giving away one's own possessions to offer in dāna, one follows it with sympathetic joy. Relying indeed on chests and baskets to encourage their intention, and using jades and silks to manifest one's sincerity. Even flesh, bone, and marrow of the body are not hoarded with longing; how much less could love and attachment arise toward external wealth? When bodhisattvas carry out their practices, they do not even wait to be asked. Although the mind does not depend on things, things serve as a weir to trap the mind. When mind and material things are both prepared, merit and wisdom are practiced together.

64.37

Section 2: Bodhisattvas

64.38

As the Great Vaipulya Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra states, the Buddha said: “In the past, for the sake of all sentient beings, I practiced the bodhisattva conduct. For the sake of this Dharma-eye, I generated a mind of great compassion toward all sentient beings, relinquishing the blood of my own body like the great ocean to give to seekers. I relinquished heads, eyes, and ears [piled high] like Mount Vipula; I relinquished noses, tongues, and the like, amounting to ten droṇas; I relinquished hands, feet, and the like [piled high] like Mount Vipula; I gave away skin sufficient to cover one Jambudvīpa. I also relinquished immeasurable elephants, horses, male and female slaves, wives and children, as well as royal thrones, kingdoms, cities, palaces, and hamlets, to give to seekers. In the presence of all Buddhas, I received and upheld the prohibitive precepts without transgression. Before each and every Buddha, I made immeasurable offerings; from each and every Buddha, I received immeasurable nayutas of hundreds of thousands of Dharma gates, receiving, upholding, reading, reciting, and skillfully cultivating samādhi. I also revered immeasurable noble beings of the three vehicles and four fruits, parents, teachers, elders, and those afflicted with illness and suffering. For those without protection, I served as a protector; for those without refuge, I served as a refuge; for those without direction, I served as a guide, establishing them in peace. Having done so through three great asaṃkhyeya kalpas, out of pity for all afflicted sentient beings, I aroused a great, firm, and valiant resolve, cultivating the practice of unsurpassed bodhi for a long time. Now, in this blind and benighted world, in an era lacking the Great Guide and scarce of Dharma, amidst such sentient beings as these, I gave rise to the resolve wishing to attain anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi, desiring to cause them not to regress in the bodhi of the three vehicles, and wishing further to deliver the sentient beings of the three evil destinies, establishing them on the good paths and in the bliss of nirvāṇa.”

64.39

Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Storehouse of Sundry Jewels states: At that time, the Tathāgata was pierced in the foot by a khadira thorn, and blood flowed without ceasing. Even when smeared with various medicines, it could not be healed. The arhats gathered herbs from the Gandhamādana Mountains and applied them, yet still the wound was not cured. Daśabalakāśyapa came to the World-Honoured One's place and spoke these words: “If the Buddha, the Tathāgata, possesses an equal mind toward all sentient beings, being without difference between Rāhula and Devadatta, then the blood from his foot should cease!” Instantly, the blood ceased, and the wound recovered completely. (Thus we know that the great compassion of the Buddhas toward all conscious beings is impartial and without distinction.)

64.40

Furthermore, the Four-Part Vinaya says: The Buddha said: In the past, there was a king named Lamp of Wisdom (Prajñāpradīpa). He caused all people in Jambudvīpa who were able to speak, whether men or women, to practice the ten virtues. When the king was first born, eighty-four thousand treasures naturally emerged. At crossroads, he gave everything away in accordance with whatever was sought. At that time, Śakra, Devānām Indra, thought: “This King Lamp of Wisdom gives everything in accordance with whatever is asked for. I fear that in a future life he will seize my seat. I should go now to test him: does he give for the sake of the unsurpassed path, or will he regress?” He then transformed himself into a man and went about saying to others, “King Lamp of Wisdom has instructed us to practice the ten non-virtuous actions, from killing living beings to holding wrong views.” At that time, the ministers all went to inform the king. The king replied, “No. I previously spoke words bidding all beings in Jambudvīpa who are capable of action to practice the ten virtues, from not killing to not holding wrong views, and only thus would I serve as their king. Therefore, I uttered no such words. You may now harness my elephant mount; I wish to go out myself to instruct and transform the kingdom's people.” When the heavenly elephant arrived, the king mounted it. The king said, “Show me the man who claims that I instructed the kingdom's people to practice the ten non-virtuous actions.” They pointed him out to the king. The king asked, “Did Lamp of Wisdom teach you to practice the ten non-virtuous actions?” He replied, “Indeed so.” The king asked again, “Is there an expedient means by which you can practice the ten virtues?” He answered, “There is.” The king asked, “What is it?” He replied, “If one can obtain an accomplished bodhisattva alive, eat his flesh, and drink his blood, then one will be able to practice the ten virtues.” At that time, King Lamp of Wisdom had this thought: “From beginningless eons onward, I have experienced numerous sufferings, transmigrating through the five realms, sometimes having my hands and feet cut off, ears and nose removed, eyes gouged out, or head severed; what benefit came of it after all?” He took a sharp knife, cut the flesh of his own thigh, caught the blood in a vessel, gave it to the man, and said to him: “Good man, you may eat this flesh and drink this blood, and practice the ten virtues.” At that time, the man could not withstand King Lamp of Wisdom's majesty and virtue, and vanished from sight. Suddenly, Śakra appeared standing before him and asked the king, “Does the king practice this dāna for the sake of one world, or two, three, or four worlds? Or for the sake of the Sun and Moon, Śakra, Māra, or Brahmā?” The king replied, “I do not practice dāna for the sake of worlds, nor for Māra, Brahmā, and the rest. I have set my mind on seeking unsurpassed, true, and complete omniscience; to cross over those not yet crossed over, to liberate those not yet liberated, to cause those who have not attained nirvāṇa to attain nirvāṇa, and to deliver those afflicted with birth, aging, sickness, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, and distress.” At that time, Śakra thought: “It would be most improper for me to let King Lamp of Wisdom die of this wound. I must pour heavenly amṛta over his body.” He poured it immediately, and the wound recovered just as before. The Buddha told King Bimbisāra: “Could that king who benefited sentient beings at that time have been anyone else? He was none other than my father, King Śuddhodana. The king's primary consort was my present mother, Māyā. King Lamp of Wisdom was my very self. In a previous life, I instructed and transformed numerous people of Jambudvīpa, causing them all to practice the ten virtues. Due to these causes and conditions, the thousand-spoked wheel signs beneath my feet were accomplished with full rims, shining with bright light that illuminates three thousand great thousand realms.”

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法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese