法苑珠林 76

English (machine translation) 76

Language: English

76.1

Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

76.3

Division 8: Harsh Speech (this contains two parts)

In ordinary people, poison blazes and the fire of wrath constantly burns. Encountering conditions, obstructions arise; contacting objects, anger is born. Thus when speech is uttered in a burst of fury, it charges forth from the mouth and burns the heart, injuring the other person with a pain worse than the slashing of a knife. It goes against the benevolent mind of a bodhisattva and defies the compassionate teachings of the Tathāgata. Therefore, a verse in the Scripture on the Differences in Karmic Retributions says:

76.6

Coarse words torment and irritate others,
Delighting in exposing others' private faults.
Unyielding, obstinate, and difficult to subdue,
One is born as a hungry ghost with a flaming mouth.

76.7

Part 2: Citing Proofs

76.8

As the Treatise on the Great Perfection of Wisdom says: There are hungry ghosts who in past lives spoke harsh words, delighting in inflicting coarse speech upon sentient beings. Sentient beings hated and detested them, viewing them as enemies. Because of this sin, they fell among the hungry ghosts. Furthermore, the Dharmapada says: Though one is a śramaṇa, if one does not restrain body and speech, speaking coarse words and evil declarations, causing much injury, one is loved by none, and the wise do not cherish him. When the body dies and the spirit departs, he cycles through the three evil paths, dying and being born by himself, with boundless torment and affliction; none of the Buddhas, worthies, or sages love or pity him. Even if a sentient being has no bodily fault, if they do not guard the karma of speech, they will also fall into the evil destinies. Therefore the Treatise on the Great Perfection of Wisdom says: At that time there was a ghost whose head was like a pig's head, with foul worms issuing from its mouth, while its body had a golden radiance. In a past life, this ghost was a bhikṣu who used harsh speech to scold and revile visiting bhikṣus. Because in bodily action he had kept the pure precepts, his body had radiance; because his mouth had uttered evil words, foul worms issued from his mouth. The Ekottarika-āgama says: Better to cut and sever one's tongue with a sharp sword than, through evil words and coarse speech, fall into the three evil paths.

76.9

Furthermore, the Scripture on Guarding Speech says: In the past, the Tathāgata Kāśyapa appeared in the world and expounded the Dharma teachings. When his transforming guidance was complete, he entered parinirvāṇa in the realm of nirvāṇa without remainder. At a later time, there was a Tripiṭaka bhikṣu named Yellow Head. The monastic saṃgha commanded him: 'We will not have you engage in any miscellaneous menial duties; only expound the wondrous Dharmas to the junior students.' At that time, the Tripiṭaka bhikṣu harboured contempt within his heart, yet could not evade the saṃgha's order, and so expounded and revealed the scriptural meanings to the junior students. Calling one to receive the teachings, he said: 'Come forward quickly, Elephant Head!' Calling the second one, he said: 'Horse Head!' He further called out: 'Camel Head, Donkey Head, Pig Head, Sheep Head, Lion Head, Tiger Head!' In this manner, he called them by names of various beasts beyond reckoning. Although he imparted the scriptural meanings, he could not escape his sin. When his body broke up and his life ended, he entered the hells, passing through tens of millions of kalpas undergoing immeasurable suffering. When his residual sin was not yet exhausted, emerging from hell he was born in the great ocean, taking an aquatic form with one body and a hundred heads, his bodily form being extremely immense, so that creatures of other kinds all fled upon seeing him.

76.10

Furthermore, the Scripture of Spoken Parables says: Anciently, when the Buddha was in the world, the Venerable Pūrṇa went to the realm of hungry ghosts. He saw a hungry ghost whose appearance was hideous, causing the hair of onlookers to stand on end, none failing to be terrified. From its body burst blazing flames like a great mass of fire; from its mouth crawled maggots, with pus and blood overflowing, emitting a stench unbearable to approach. Sometimes fire shot out from its mouth dozens of fathoms long; sometimes its eyes, ears, nose, body, and limbs emitted flames dozens of fathoms long. Its lips hung drooping down like those of a wild boar; its body measured a yojana in length and breadth. With its own hands it tore and clawed at itself, wailing and weeping loudly as it rushed about to the east and west. Seeing it, Pūrṇa asked: 'What sin did you commit to now suffer this torment?' The hungry ghost replied: 'In the past I left the household life, yet I clung to rooms and dwellings, stingy, greedy, and unable to let go. Relying on my noble clan, I uttered foul and evil words. Whenever I saw bhikṣus who upheld the precepts and were energetic, I would constantly revile and insult them, making wry faces and rolling my eyes at them, or perversely twisting right and wrong. Therefore I undergo this torment. Better to cut out one's own tongue with a sharp knife and suffer agony for accumulated kalpas than for a single day to revile and slander an energetic, precept-upholding bhikṣu. When the Venerable One returns to the land of Jambudvīpa, use my appearance to admonish all the bhikṣus: let them properly guard against faults of the mouth, not speaking recklessly; when they see those who uphold the precepts, let them be mindful to proclaim their virtues. Ever since I received this hungry ghost form, for tens of millions of years I have constantly suffered this torment. When this life ends hereafter, I will fall into hell.' Having spoken these words, it wailed and threw itself upon the ground, like a great mountain collapsing or heaven and earth turning upside down. This was caused by the faults of the mouth, which brought it to this pass.

76.11

Furthermore, the Scripture of the Hundred Avadānas says: There was the wife of an elder who was pregnant, and her body was foul and filthy, utterly unbearable to approach. When the full term arrived, she gave birth to a child whose frame was nothing but connected bones standing, emaciated and haggard, unbearable to look upon. Moreover, he was born coated in a great quantity of human excrement. As he gradually grew older, he had no desire to stay at home; lusting after and relishing excrement and filth, he refused to abandon it. His parents and relatives loathed him and did not wish to see him, driving him far from the house so that he could not approach. He then stayed outside, constantly eating excrement and filth. People, seeing him, accordingly gave him the name Kambala. Encountering the Buddha, he left the household life and attained the fruit of arhatship. This was because in a past lifetime, when a Buddha appeared in the world named Krakucchanda, he had left the household life to become a monastery director. There were donors who, having bathed the saṃgha of monks, further anointed their bodies with fragrant oil. There was an arhat; seeing him, the monastery director became angry and reviled him: 'You are a renunciant, yet you anoint your body with fragrant oil, just as if someone were smearing human excrement upon your body!' The arhat pitied him and manifested supernatural transformations for him. Seeing this, the monastery director repented, apologized, and prayed to eradicate his transgression. Because of this evil reviling, for five hundred lifetimes his body was constantly foul and filthy, unbearable to approach. Because he had formerly left the household life and repented to that arhat, he has now been able to encounter me, leave the household life, and attain the Way. Therefore, sentient beings should guard the karma of speech and not revile one another.

76.12

The *Damamūka-nidāna-sūtra* also states: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, he set out with the monks toward Vaiśālī. Arriving at the River Liyue, they saw fishermen who had netted a fish with a hundred heads. Five hundred people pulled at it, but could not draw it out of the water. At that time there were five hundred people grazing cattle by the river, so [the fishermen] borrowed their aid to pull it; only with the united strength of a thousand people was it finally brought out of the water. Astonished at the sight, the crowd vied with one another to look. The Buddha and the monks went to where the fish was, and [the Buddha] asked the fish, saying, 'Are you Kapila or not?' The fish answered, saying, 'I am.' He further asked the fish, saying, 'Where is the teacher who instructed you now?' The fish answered the Buddha, saying, 'He has fallen into the Avīci hell.' When Ānanda saw this, he asked about its karmic causes and conditions. The Buddha told Ānanda: Long ago in the past, at the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, there was a brahman who had a son named Kapila, who was intelligent, broadly learned, and foremost in erudition. After his father died, his mother asked the boy, 'You are now so brilliant; is there anyone in the world who surpasses you or not?' The boy answered his mother, saying, 'The śramaṇas are superior. Whenever I have doubts, I go to question the śramaṇas, and they explain them to me, bringing me to understanding; but if they question me, I cannot answer.' The mother then told him, 'Why do you not now study their teachings?' The boy answered his mother, saying, 'If I wish to study them, I must become a śramaṇa. I am a white-robed layman; by what means could I study them?' The mother told the boy, 'For now, you may falsely become a śramaṇa, and once you have mastered the studies, return home.' The boy complied with his mother's instruction and became a bhikṣu. In a short time he thoroughly mastered the tripiṭaka and returned home. His mother asked him again, 'Have you now surpassed them or not?' The boy answered his mother, saying, 'I still have not surpassed them.' The mother told the boy, 'From now on, whenever you debate with them, if you happen to be unequal to them, you may simply revile and insult them, and then you will prevail.' The boy complied with his mother's instruction. Later, when he was bested in debate, he reviled them, saying, 'You śramaṇas are stupid and ignorant, with heads like the heads of beasts!' There were no heads among the hundred beasts to which he did not compare them. Because of this reviling, he has now received the body of a fish—a single body with a hundred heads, possessing all the heads of beasts, including camels, donkeys, cattle, horses, pigs, sheep, and dogs. Ānanda asked the Buddha, 'When will it be able to escape this fish's body?' The Buddha told Ānanda, 'Even after the thousand Buddhas of this Bhadrakalpa have passed, it will still not have escaped this fish's body.' By these causes and conditions, one cannot fail to be cautious in the actions of body, speech, and mind! Also, Wang Xuance's *Xiguo xingzhuan* states: When the Buddha was in the world, he traveled to the city of Vaiśālī. Observing all sentient beings who suffered, he wished to rescue them. He then observed that in this country there were two groups of fishermen (kaivarta), numbering five hundred in all, who had netted a great makara fish in the River Vālumatī that had eighteen heads and thirty-six eyes, its heads mostly resembling beasts (the rest is the same as above). The Buddha preached the Dharma for it. Having heard the Dharma, the fish immediately died and was reborn in heaven as a devaputra. Looking back, he saw that his original body had been a great fish, and that thanks to the Buddha's preaching of the Dharma he had attained rebirth in heaven. He then took various incense, flowers, necklaces, and precious gems, descended from heaven, and came to make offerings to the Buddha. At that time, both groups of people gave rise to the mind [of faith] and repented their faults. Thereupon, over one hundred paces north of the River Vālumatī, they burned the fishing nets, put the ashes in bronze jars, and buried them at the place where the Dharma had been preached, erecting a stūpa above it. The venerable image stands dignified and still exists today, carved and adorned in accord with the Dharma, inspiring goodness in all who see it.

76.13

The *Avadāna-śataka* also states: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, Mallikā, the queen of King Prasenajit, gave birth to a daughter named Vajrā. Her features were extremely ugly; her body was rough and coarse like snake skin, and her hair was stiff and coarse like a horse's tail. The king was displeased upon seeing her, and ordered her confined deep within the palace, not allowing her to go outside. As she grew older, reaching marriageable age, he dispatched a minister: 'Seek out a man who was originally of noble clan but is now poor and destitute, and bring him here.' Having received the royal command, the minister found one and presented him to the king. The king took him to a secluded place and spoke to him privately: 'I hear that you come from a noble clan but are now impoverished. I have a daughter whose features are extremely ugly. If you are willing to accept her, I will provide for you.' At that time, the poor man knelt and addressed the king, saying, 'Even if the Great King were to bestow a dog upon me, I would not dare refuse, let alone the king's daughter born of Mallikā!' The king then gave her to him as his wife and built a house for them with sevenfold gates. The king instructed the son-in-law: 'Hold the door bolts yourself; lock them securely when going in or out, and do not let anyone see her.' The king provided wealth to his son-in-law so that he lacked nothing, and appointed him a grand minister. Later, when gathering in an association with noblemen, the pact of the assembly required that everyone bring their wives. All the other men brought their wives along; only this grand minister did not bring his. The crowd was suspicious and thought it strange: 'That man's wife may be upright and beautiful, or she may be extremely ugly and unable to be seen in public; that is why she does not come.' Later, at another gathering, they secretly urged wine on him, making him drunk until he fell asleep. They untied and took his door bolt, and sent five men to go to his house to look. Arriving at the house, they opened the door. Suspecting it was not her husband, the wife reproached herself within and said in distress, 'What sin did I commit in a past life that I am locked away by my husband, never seeing the sun or moon?' She then sincerely paid homage to the World-Honoured One from afar: 'May the Buddha, with compassion, come before me and briefly save me from my misery and distress.' Knowing her thought, the Buddha immediately welled forth from the earth before the woman, revealing the mark of his dark blue hair. The woman raised her head, saw the mark of the Buddha's hair, and felt reverent joy in her heart; her own hair naturally became dark blue in color. As the Buddha gradually revealed his face, the woman's joy redoubled, and her face became upright and beautiful, while her foul marks and coarse skin vanished naturally. When the Buddha fully revealed his body so that she could see it all, her joy grew even greater; her body became upright and beautiful, just like that of a celestial maiden. The Buddha then preached various essentials of the Dharma for her, and she attained the fruit of srotāpanna. After the Buddha departed, the five men entered and saw that her beauty was almost without peer. Having finished observing, they locked the doors again and tied the bolt back in its original place. When the husband returned home and saw his wife's beauty, he asked with delight, 'Who are you?' The wife answered her husband, saying, 'I am your wife.' The husband said to her, 'Previously you were extremely ugly; by what cause are you so beautiful now?' The wife then addressed her husband, relating the above events in full. The wife further said to her husband, 'I wish to see the king; you must deliver the message for me.' The husband went and reported to the king, 'The young lady wishes to come and see you now.' The king answered the son-in-law, 'Do not speak of this! Lock her away securely at once, and take care not to let her come out.' The son-in-law told the king, 'By the Buddha's divine power, the young lady has now become upright and beautiful, no different from a celestial maiden.' When the king heard this, he immediately sent for her to be welcomed. Seeing the woman's beauty, his joy was boundless. He led her to the Buddha's presence and addressed the Buddha, saying, 'I do not know what merit this woman planted in the past that she was born into a noble clan, yet was born ugly.' The Buddha told the king: Long ago in the past, in the kingdom of Vārāṇasī, there was an elder who daily made offerings to a pratyekabuddha whose body was ugly. At that time, there was a young girl in the elder's household who, upon seeing the pratyekabuddha, spoke with malicious intent, reviling him: 'His features are ugly, and the skin of his body is coarse and foul; how detestable he is!' When the pratyekabuddha was about to enter nirvāṇa, he manifested divine powers and performed the eighteen transformations. Seeing this, the girl immediately reproached herself, pleaded for mercy, and repented. Because she reviled the pratyekabuddha in the past, she was always born ugly; because she then repented, she has now attained beauty; and because of her offerings, wherever she was born, she was noble, revered, wealthy, and had boundless joy.

76.14

The *Xingqixing jing* also states: In the past, Śākyamuni spoke with harsh words, saying, 'How could a bald-headed śramaṇa like Kāśyapa have the Buddha's path?' Therefore, he now endured six years of ascetic practices, eating only one hemp seed, one grain of rice, large beans, and small beans a day.

76.15

The *Dharmaguptaka-vinaya* also states: The Buddha told the monks: In an ancient age, a brahman in the kingdom of Takṣaśilā had an ox, which he fed and cared for day and night, scraping, brushing, and wiping it down. At that time, there was also an elder's ox in the kingdom of Takṣaśilā, whose owner proclaimed throughout the city streets and lanes, 'Who has a strong ox to yoke with my strong ox to draw a hundred carts together for a wager of a thousand ounces of gold?' Hearing this proclamation, the brahman's ox thought to himself: 'This brahman feeds and cares for me day and night, scraping, brushing, and wiping me down. I ought to exhaust all my strength now to win those thousand ounces of gold and repay this man's kindness.' The ox then spoke to the brahman: 'You should know that an elder in the kingdom of Takṣaśilā is proclaiming: "Who has an ox to yoke with my ox to draw a hundred carts together for a wager of a thousand ounces of gold?" Master, you may now go to that elder's house and say: "I have an ox that can be yoked with your ox to draw a hundred carts together for a wager of a thousand ounces of gold."' The brahman then went to the elder's house and said, 'I have an ox that can be yoked with your ox to draw a hundred carts together for a wager of a thousand ounces of gold.' The elder replied, 'Now is the right time.' The brahman then led his ox to be yoked with the elder's ox to draw a hundred carts together for a wager of a thousand ounces of gold. Many people gathered to watch. In front of the crowd, the brahman uttered derogatory words: 'Pull, bald-horns!' When the ox heard these derogatory words, it felt ashamed and refused to exert its strength to contest with the other. Thereupon the elder's ox won and the brahman's ox was bested, losing a thousand ounces of gold. The brahman said to the ox, 'I fed and cared for you, wiping and scraping you down day and night, hoping you would exert all your strength to defeat that ox for me. Why have you instead caused me to lose a thousand ounces of gold today?' The ox said to the brahman, 'Before the crowd you disparaged me, saying, "Pull, bald-horns!" making me feel ashamed before everyone; that is why I could not exert my strength to compete in drawing with him. If you can change what you said previously and no longer describe me by my appearance, you may go and tell that elder: "If you can yoke with my ox again to draw a hundred carts together, I will double it to two thousand ounces of gold."' The brahman said to the ox, 'Do not make me lose another two thousand ounces of gold.' The ox replied to the brahman, 'Do not disparage me before the crowd again by saying "Pull, bald-horns!" Before the crowd you must praise me: "Good puller, stately, fine horns!"' The brahman went to the elder's house and said, 'If you can yoke with my ox again to draw a hundred carts together, the wager will be two thousand ounces of gold.' The elder replied, 'Now is the right time.' The brahman's ox and the elder's ox were yoked together to draw a hundred carts for a wager of two thousand ounces of gold, and many people watched together. In front of the crowd, the brahman praised it, saying, 'Good puller, stately, fine horns!' Hearing these words, the ox exerted brave strength to compete in pulling with the other. The brahman's ox won and the elder's ox was bested, so the brahman gained two thousand ounces of gold. At that time, the Buddha said to the monks: Whenever people wish to speak, they should speak good words; they should not speak harsh words. Those who speak good words fare well; those who speak harsh words generate distress for themselves. Therefore, bhikṣus, when even beasts feel ashamed and unable to exert strength upon being disparaged by humans, how much more so for humans—when reviled and insulted by others, how could they not feel shame? Therefore, the *Tattvasiddhi-śāstra* states: If a person speaks harsh words and utters various revilements, they receive retribution according to their speech.

76.16

Furthermore, a verse in the *Yogācārabhūmi-sūtra* states:

76.17

The mouth is foolish and the mind is unyielding; / being ungentle, it is not free of evil speech. / Constantly harboring malice and a double tongue, / it does not care for others' good and benefit. / Its speech is indistinct and ambiguous, / concealing evil within the mind, / like ashes covering charcoal fire: / if stepped on, it burns one's foot. / When one's speech is always gentle and mild, / accommodating and agreeable to others, / with words and deeds corresponding to each other, / harming neither in mind nor in body, / it is like a fine flowering tree / whose fruit turns out sweet as well. / The Buddha, the Honoured One, has explained these / as the marks and scheming of mind and mouth.

76.18

Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Hundred Avadānas says: At that time, when the World-Honoured One had first attained Buddhahood, wishing to convert and guide the dragon kings, he proceeded to the foot of Mount Sumeru. Manifesting the form of a monk, he sat upright and contemplated. At that time there was a king of the garuḍas who entered the great ocean, seized a small dragon, and returned to the summit of Sumeru, intending to devour it. At that time, that small dragon's life was not yet severed. Seeing the monk sitting upright and contemplating from afar, it earnestly sought pity with all its heart, and thereupon immediately died. It was born into a brāhmaṇa family in the kingdom of Śrāvastī, named Fuliduo (Bhuridatta). He was handsome and refined, rarely seen in the world. For this reason, they gave him the name Subhūti. As he grew older, he was wise and intelligent, with none who could equal him. However, his nature was extremely wicked: whenever his eyes beheld human beings or animals, he would become angry and scold them without ever ceasing. His parents and relatives all shared a disgust and aversion toward him, and none took pleasure in seeing him. Thereupon he abandoned his home and entered into the mountain forests. Yet even seeing birds, beasts, grass, or trees shaken and swayed by the wind, he would still give rise to wrath, never possessing a joyful heart. At that time, a mountain spirit spoke to Subhūti, saying: "Why have you now abandoned your home and come here into this mountain forest? Since you do not cultivate goodness, there is no benefit and you vainly exhaust and afflict yourself. Presently, the World-Honoured One is in the Jetavana. He possesses great merit and is able to instruct sentient beings to cultivate the good and sever the bad. If you go to him now, he will certainly be able to eliminate your venomous poison of wrath." At that time, Subhūti, hearing the words of the mountain spirit, immediately gave rise to joy. He quickly asked him, saying: "Where is the World-Honoured One now?" [The spirit] answered, saying: "You only need to close your eyes, and I will personally take you to the World-Honoured One's place." At that time, Subhūti followed the mountain spirit's words and closed his eyes. In an instant, unconsciously, he was naturally in the Jetavana. Seeing the Buddha, the World-Honoured One, with the thirty-two marks and eighty minor signs, his radiance shining everywhere like hundreds of thousands of suns, his heart was filled with joy. He stepped forward, bowed at the Buddha's feet, and withdrew to sit on one side. The Buddha then explained to him the faults and evils of wrath: foolish afflictions burn away the roots of goodness and increase manifold evils; in the future, one receives the retribution of falling into hell and undergoing torment beyond reckoning; even if one should be freed, one may become a dragon, serpent, rākṣasa, or ghost and spirit, with a heart perpetually bearing venom, mutually harming and destroying one another. At that time, when Subhūti heard the World-Honoured One speak these words, his heart was alarmed and his hair stood on end. He immediately repented and reproached himself, confessing his transgressions and faults before the Buddha. All at once he attained the fruit of a stream-enterer (srotāpanna). His heart was filled with joy; having entered the stages of the Path, the Buddha then permitted him [saying]: "Welcome, bhikṣu!" His beard and hair fell off naturally, and the kāṣāya was draped upon his body; he thereby became a śramaṇa. Diligently cultivating and practicing, he attained the fruit of an arhat, revered and looked up to by the devas and worldly people. At that time, when the monks saw this matter, they requested [the Buddha] to recount the past causes. The Buddha told the monks: "In this Bhadrakalpa, there was a Buddha who appeared in the world named Kāśyapa. In his Dharma there was a monk who constantly engaged in encouraging and converting [people]. For ten thousand years, he led the monks everywhere to receive offerings. At a later time, the Saṃgha had a minor matter and in the end did not comply with him. Thereupon he uttered wicked abuse: 'You are perverse and refractory, just like venomous dragons!' Having spoken these words, he immediately went away. Due to this karmic cause, he received the body of a venomous dragon for five hundred lifetimes, his heart constantly bearing venom and troubling sentient beings. Although he has now obtained a human body, his past habits have not been eradicated, which is why he gave rise to wrath again." The Buddha told the monks: "Do you wish to know who the monk who encouraged and converted [people] and abused them with harsh speech was at that time? He was this present Subhūti. Because he made offerings to the Saṃgha at that time, he is now able to encounter me, leave home, and attain the Path." Having heard this, the monks joyfully took it to heart.

76.19

Furthermore, the Sūtra of the Hundred Avadānas says: When the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder in the city of Rājagṛha whose wealth and treasures were immeasurable and beyond reckoning. His wife, having completed ten months [of pregnancy], was about to give birth to a child, but it was unwilling to come out. Soon she became pregnant again, and having completed ten months, she gave birth to another child. The one conceived earlier remained in her right flank. In this manner, she successively conceived nine children, each born upon the completion of ten months. Only that first child remained in the womb and was unwilling to come out. The mother suffered exceedingly; she prepared various medicines and broths to treat herself, but the ailment did not subside. She instructed her household: "The child in my womb is still alive and not dead. If I should die now, you must cut open my belly, take out the child, and nurture him." At that time, the mother could not escape the illness and thereupon died. Then the relatives loaded her corpse onto a cart and went to the cemetery. They invited the great physician Jīvaka to cut open her belly and inspect it. They obtained a young boy: his form was still small, his hair and beard were completely white, and he walked hunched over. Looking around in all four directions, he spoke to his relatives, saying: "You should know that because in a past life I abused and insulted the Saṃgha with harsh speech, I have dwelt in this digestive tract for sixty years, undergoing such suffering that it is difficult to endure." When the relatives heard this, they wailed and wept bitterly, unable to answer him. At that time, the World-Honoured One knew from afar that this child's roots of goodness had matured. Leading the great assembly, he proceeded to the place of the corpse. He addressed the small child, saying: "Are you an elder monk?" He replied, saying: "Truly, I am." A second and third time [the Buddha] asked likewise, and he still said that he was. At that time, seeing this small child replying to the Buddha, the great assembly each harboured doubts. Stepping forward, they addressed the Buddha, saying: "What karma did this old child create in the past that he has white hair in the womb, walks hunched over, and moreover engages in questions and answers with the Tathāgata?"

76.20

At that time, the World-Honoured One told the great assembly: "In this Bhadrakalpa, there was a Buddha who appeared in the world named Kāśyapa. There were monks who observed the summer retreat (varṣā). The Saṃgha was in harmony, and they appointed an elderly monk to be the karmadāna (weinuo) for the Saṃgha. Together they established a restriction: during this summer retreat, only those who attain the Path will be permitted to participate in the Pravāraṇā (invitation ceremony); if they have not yet attained it, they will not be permitted to participate in the Pravāraṇā. Now, this karmadāna alone did not attain the Path, so the Saṃgha did not permit him to participate in the Poṣadha or the Pravāraṇā. Harboring resentment and distress in his heart, he made these words: 'I alone managed the affairs of the Saṃgha for your sake, so that all of you could practice the Path in peace. Now in return, you do not permit me to participate in the Pravāraṇā, Poṣadha, and karmavācanā!' Thereupon he gave rise to wrath, abused and insulted the Saṃgha, and immediately dragged, seized, and shut them inside a room. He made this proclamation: 'May you all perpetually dwell in darkness and not see the light, just as I now dwell in this dark room!' Having spoken these words, he killed himself and ended his life. He fell into hell and underwent great suffering. Only now has he obtained release, and therefore he underwent this suffering while in the womb." Having heard this, the monks each guarded their three modes of action (trividhadvāra) and felt disgust and detachment from birth and death: some attained the four fruits of a śramaṇa, some gave rise to the aspiration for pratyekabuddhahood, and some gave rise to the aspiration for unexcelled bodhi. At that time, the relatives took the old child back home and raised him. When he gradually grew older, they permitted him to leave home, and he attained the fruit of an arhat. The Buddha told the monks: "Due to the causes of having made offerings to the Saṃgha and having served as karmadāna managing the affairs of the Saṃgha in the past, he is now able to encounter me, leave home, and attain the Path." Having heard this, the monks joyfully took it to heart.

76.21

The verse on the direct retribution says:

76.22

"Harsh speech is like a poisoned arrow; / Striking an object, it immediately injures and wounds. / Hell opens its gates in anticipation, / Hurling him into caldrons of boiling water. / Cutting off his tongue, forcing him to eat it himself, / The painful suffering is hard to conceive. / If it brings no benefit to oneself, / What harm is there in guarding one's mouth?"

76.23

The verse on the habitual retribution says:

76.24

"Harsh speech causes much offense and provocation; / In hell, one is burned and scorched. / In the human realm, there remains residual retribution: / One hears words like swords and knives in return. / Even if one engages in discussion, / One incurs lawsuits and resentment from others. / Cheerfully endure past retributions; / Transform evil, and goodness will naturally shine."

76.25

Conditions of sympathetic resonance (briefly citing one verification):

76.26

Yang Shicao was a native of Dongyang Village, Liquan County, Yongzhou during the Tang dynasty. In the early Zhenguan era, he served as supervisor of bamboo plantations (Sizhujian). Later, on official business, he was transferred to become the police lieutenant (xianwei) of Lantian County. In the twenty-first year of Zhenguan, on account of old age, he returned home to take up farming as his livelihood. However, by nature Shicao was venomous and wicked, with a violent mouth. Throughout his life, he took pleasure in seeing others' faults; whenever the villagers had an issue, he would record it and report it to the authorities. The county officials gave him consideration because Shicao had previously been in the court ranks. Yet Shicao fostered evil without repenting, frequently disturbing the official organs, ferreting out the villagers' missteps and faults, and constantly intimidating them regardless of whether the matters were major or minor. Within his own village association, he arbitrarily created interventions where there was no issue, recklessly engaging in disputes and criticizing everyone, young and old. Whenever cattle or sheep trampled crops, or men and women quarrelled, he would immediately drag them to the county office. The county magistrate, Pei Qutan, considered this troublesome and trivial; the first two or three times he dealt with it, but later, seeing that matters were too frequent, he would not attend to it. Shicao later went to the prefecture, or submitted memorials directly to the throne. His malicious intentions grew stronger by the day, and no one was pleased to see him. Shicao knew his own nature was bad, and he would also say to people: "My temperament is impatient and my mouth is violent. Since the Wude era, I have received the precepts four times, observed rituals and prostrations, daily recited sūtras and treatises, and converted people to do good. Yet if there is any slight encroachment upon me, I cannot endure it." Later, on the night of the seventh day of the fourth month in the first year of Yonghui, there suddenly was a man coming from the east, riding a white horse and wearing green clothing, who came straight to Shicao's gate. When Shicao saw him, they exchanged greetings. The man said: "The grand director of Dongyang has specially sent me to summon you. Because from birth until now, your venomous mind has been tightly bound and unable to endure or let go; whenever you meet people you speak of encouraging good, yet you yourself do not completely uphold the precepts; you are stingy and do not give, claiming: 'I have a good mind and make offerings to the Three Jewels,' yet you have never given even a shred of wealth; though your mouth speaks of shame, another scheme arises in your mind to bewilder ordinary folk—for this reason I summon you." In an instant, the visitor was gone. Shicao's body suddenly collapsed to the ground at the gate. His mouth could not speak, and only a little warmth remained over his heart. His family carried him into the house to lie down, and he did not revive overnight. Meanwhile, Shicao had already arrived at the chief record office of Dongyang. At that time, the governor's grand assembly had not yet dispersed. Shicao then privately walked through the offices: they all had tables, desks, couches, and mats, which were extremely grand and fine. There were also prisoners, some wearing cangues and fetters, bareheaded and with loosened belts, either sitting, standing, walking, or staying—such sinful persons were beyond count. Shicao walked eastward and arrived at a place where the entrance was extremely small; he only saw sparks flying out and foul smoke billowing, unfit for a person to stand. There were also two men holding iron clubs, repairing the entrance. Shicao then asked the men holding clubs: "What office is this?" They answered, saying: "This is the Hell of Raging Fire. It is intended for people who do not uphold the precepts completely, or people who abandon cultivating good halfway; they knowingly commit transgressions, and upon death enter this place. We hear that there is one Yang Shicao who throughout his life took pleasure in discussing people's faults, constantly reporting others' shortcomings to the officials, falsely expressing shame whenever meeting people, but who truly could not endure the slightest offense. Now we intend to send him into this place, which is why we are repairing it. Today is the eighth day of the fourth month; his family is making donations and vegetarian offerings on behalf of Shicao's death. The office is deliberating and intends to release him back, but has not yet received permission. I am waiting here for Shicao." Shicao thereupon kowtowed, bowed, thanked them, and said of himself: "I, your disciple, am Yang Shicao. I pray that you will provide an expedient means: how may I obtain release?" This person answered, saying: "You only need to bow to the Buddhas of the ten directions with all your heart, earnestly repent, and change your venomous heart; then you will follow [this] to be reborn and will not come to this place. Even though you harboured evil thoughts, if you can repent in a single instant, it is like the bodhisattva practice; not begrudging body or life, you may attain birth in the Pure Land." Having received these words, Shicao immediately made confession and earnestly repented according to the instructions. He was thereupon released back home, and after three days he revived. Having revived, Shicao recounted this matter in detail. Later, Shicao went to Chan Master Huijing to amend his errors and repent. He is alive today, aged seventy-five. He observes a permanent vegetarian diet of one meal a day and performs prostrations and repentance at the six periods of the day. Shicao's field bordered an official highway. As he walked to inspect the wheat, he saw three oxen violently eating the wheat seedlings. Shicao approached the oxen with a sense of remorse and did not drive them away. Later, upon returning home, he went out to the wheat, and it had not died; there were only the footprints of the oxen. On the western border of Jingyang, there was the Buddha hall of the Prince of Chen, where many people gathered. Shicao recounted the matter in full to the assembly. Monastics and laypeople were astonished and performed prostrations and repentance with even greater earnestness. That night, he had a dream in which he saw a person come and say to Shicao: "I am a messenger, and I came specifically to admonish you. Since you have stopped evil, you will not be summoned again. Only diligently and sincerely cultivate good; you need not worry about it." A monk saw Shicao and passed on the account to [Wang] Lin (the above one verification is from the Mingxiang ji).

76.27

Section 9: Malicious Speech (with two sub-sections)

76.28

Sub-section 1: Statement of Intent

76.29

Now birth, old age, sickness, and death offer no time of self-extrication; bodhi and nirvāṇa possess a path of cultivation and entry. That all the Buddhas attain the Way is due to practicing the four means of embracing [sentient beings], so that ordinary people and sages take refuge in them. That bodhisattvas become sages is due to practicing the six pāramitās, so that monastics and laypeople revere them. Today one observes worldly fellows who focus exclusively on fabricating private slander, maliciously carrying talk back and forth, causing others' kin to separate and friends to estrange, taking pleasure in sowing the karma of disharmony and incurring the suffering of being parted while alive. Even if one separates someone from an evil person with a good intention, this too is a disruption, but it brings benefit and incurs no sin. Therefore the Tattvasiddhi-śāstra says: If one instructs and transforms with a good intention, though it causes separation, one incurs no sin; if with an evil intention one causes others to quarrel and fall into chaos, then this is malicious speech and incurs the gravest sin, meaning falling into the hells, animal realm, or hungry ghosts; if born among humans, one is slandered by others and obtains only wicked and fractured kin. It should be known that in the previous discussion of the faults of false speech, it was for the sake of estranging both sides; yet false speech, in terms of this meaning, is precisely malicious speech. If one speaks of the suffering incurred across the three periods of time by this sin, as it has already been stated above, it need not be repeated.

76.30

Sub-section 2: Citations of Proof

76.31

As the Dharmaguptaka-vinaya says: The Buddha addressed the bhikṣus: You should listen. In ancient times there were two ferocious beasts who were companions. One was a lion named Good Tooth, and the second was a tiger named Good Shoulder. Day and night they stalked and captured deer. At that time there was a jackal that followed behind the two beasts, eating their leftover meat to preserve its own life. Then the jackal secretly thought to itself: 'I cannot follow them for long. By what expedient means can I cause the two beasts to quarrel and turn against each other so that they no longer follow one another?' The jackal then went to where the lion Good Tooth was, and spoke thus to Good Tooth: 'The tiger Good Shoulder has made these remarks: “My birthplace is superior, my lineage is superior, my form and color are superior to yours, and my strength is superior to yours. Why? Daily I obtain fine, delicious meat, while the lion Good Tooth follows behind me, eating my leftover meat to preserve his own life.”' Then he spoke a verse:

76.32

"In form, color, and birth, / Having great strength and surpassing all, / Good Tooth cannot be good; / Thus has Good Shoulder spoken."

76.33

Good Tooth asked the jackal, saying: 'By what matter do you know this?' [The jackal] answered, saying: 'When you two beasts gather together in one place, seeing each other you will naturally know.' At that time, having secretly spoken to Good Tooth, the jackal then went and said to the tiger Good Shoulder: 'Do you know? Good Tooth has made these remarks: “Now my lineage and birthplace are entirely superior to yours, and my strength is also superior. Why? I always eat fine meat, while the tiger Good Shoulder eats my leftover meat to sustain his own life.”' Thereupon he spoke a verse:

76.34

"In form, color, and birth, / Having great strength and surpassing all, / Good Shoulder cannot be good; / Thus has Good Tooth spoken."

76.35

Good Shoulder asked, saying: 'By what matter do you know this?' [The jackal] answered, saying: 'When you two beasts gather together in one place, seeing each other you will naturally know.' Later, the two beasts gathered together in one place, looking at each other with angry eyes. The lion Good Tooth then thought: 'I should not strike him down first without asking.' At that time the lion Good Tooth addressed the tiger Good Shoulder and spoke a verse:

76.36

"In form, color, and birth, / Having great strength and surpassing all, / Good Tooth is not equal to me; / Did Good Shoulder say this?"

76.37

He thought to himself: 'It must be the jackal causing strife among us.' The tiger Good Shoulder spoke a verse answering the lion Good Tooth, saying:

76.38

"Good Shoulder did not say this: / That in form, color, and birth, / Having great strength and surpassing all, / Good Tooth cannot be good. / If one heeds unprofitable words / And believes another's tale-bearing between parties, / One's close relations naturally break apart / And turn into enemies. / If one has known the truth, / One should extinguish anger and vexation. / Now let us speak with utmost sincerity / So that our bodies obtain benefit. / Now we should properly subdue / And eradicate this bad acquaintance; / Let us kill this jackal / Who sows discord between us."

76.39

Then they struck the jackal and killed it. At that time, the Buddha addressed the bhikṣus: 'These two beasts were estranged by him, and gathering together in one place, they were displeased at the sight of each other. How much more so for humans? When estranged by others, how could their minds not be vexed?'

76.40

Furthermore, the Saddharmasmṛtyupasthāna-sūtra says that King Yama rebukes the sinners, speaking a verse:

76.41

"Too fond of many words, / Increasing greed and causing others fear, / With verbal faults boasting and bragging— / Malicious speech holds the foremost place."

76.42

Furthermore, in the Kuśalamūlasaṃparigraha-sūtra, the Buddha spoke a verse:

76.43

"Harsh speech and malicious speech, / Fond of exposing others' faults; / Such unwholesome persons / Commit every kind of evil."

76.44

Furthermore, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra says: 'One who speaks truth does not rely on dāna, holding the precepts, study, or broad learning; merely by cultivating truthful speech does one obtain immeasurable merit.'

76.45

Furthermore, in the Sūtra on the Requital of Kindness, the Buddha spoke a verse:

76.46

The Buddha told Ānanda: / When humans live in the world, / Disaster emerges from the mouth. / One should guard the mouth / More vigilantly than a fierce fire. / When a fierce fire blazes, / It burns worldly wealth; / When harsh speech blazes, / It burns the seven noble treasures. / For all sentient beings, / Disaster emerges from the mouth: / It is the axe that destroys the body, / The calamity that ruins the body.

76.47

The verse on the direct retribution says:

76.48

Those of malicious speech who stir strife among people / Are torn apart in hell; / The hell wardens pry open their mouths / And with flaming blades cut out their tongues. / The pain already being like this, / They are further afflicted with hunger and thirst; / Unfree due to evil karma, / They drink back the blood of their own bodies.

76.49

The verse on the residual retribution says:

76.50

Slander harms people deeply, / Firmly incurring the sufferings of the three evil paths. / Even if one manages to obtain a human body, / The remaining retribution still relies on this: / Kin are mostly wicked and cruel, / Disobedient and venting wrath; / As long as evil is not extinguished, / Hell has no end across past and present.

76.51

Circumstances of Sympathetic Resonance (briefly citing two verifications)

76.52

Empress Song of Emperor Ling of the Han was without the emperor's favor, yet occupied the primary position. The favored consorts of the rear palace joined together to slander her. Earlier, the Regular Palace Attendant Wang Fu had unjustly executed the King of Bohai, Kuai, and his consort; the consort was the empress's paternal aunt. Fu feared that the empress would resent him, so he plotted together with the Grand Master for Palace Counsel Cheng He to frame the empress for practicing heterodox arts and incantations. Emperor Ling believed them and thereupon confiscated the empress's seals and ribbons. The empress had herself committed to the chambers of punishment and died of grief. Her father and brothers were all executed. The regular palace attendants and minor palace eunuchs who were in the imperial apartments all pitied the Song family as blameless. The emperor later saw Emperor Huan in a dream, who said angrily: 'Empress Song was innocent, yet you listened to and employed heterodox favorites to end her life. The King of Bohai, Kuai, having already degraded himself, was further executed. Now Empress Song and Kuai have brought their complaint to Heaven. The High Deity is enraged; your sin is beyond salvation.' The dream was remarkably vivid. The emperor, having awakened, was frightened and questioned the Left Commander of the Forest of Plumes Xu Bing about the matter: 'What portent is this? Can it be exorcised?' Bing replied with the facts of Empress Song and the King of Bohai Kuai's innocence, stating that both should be reburied to appease their wronged spirits, the exile of the Song family recalled, and the fief of Bohai restored to ward off calamity and disaster. The emperor was unable to act upon this, and soon after he died (from the Record of Wronged Spirits).

76.53

In Xianyang during the Tang, there was a woman named Liang. In the Zhenguan era, she died and revived after seven days. She recounted that she had been seized and brought into a large compound, where she saw a great hall with an official seated at a desk holding a brush, with a grand array of attendants. He ordered someone to interrogate her, saying: 'Should this woman die or not?' Someone else presented another dossier and examined it, saying: 'She shares the same surname and personal name as the one who ought to die, which is why she was summoned.' The official instructed his attendants to release her and send her back. Liang said to the official: 'I do not know whether Liang has any other sins; I request to receive my punishment before returning.' The official immediately ordered the records examined, which said: 'During her lifetime, Liang had only the sin of malicious speech and evil cursing, and no other sins.' He then ordered one person to pull out her tongue and another holding an axe to chop it, several times a day. After a full seven days had passed, they finally sent her back. At first it felt like falling off a deep cliff; after a short while, it was as if she woke from sleep. When her family members looked at her tongue, it was still severely rotten and swollen. From that time on, she perpetually severed meat and wine, and is still alive today (from the Supplemented Record of Retribution in the Netherworld).

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法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese