諸經要集 10.67

10.67

I have heard that the precepts are the teachers of humanity, revered by both religious and lay. The mind is the master of karma, disciplined by both commoners and sages. Truly it is through what the Triratna sustains that the four forms of life are equally nourished. Therefore the sūtra says: 'The True Dharma remains; the True Dharma perishes'—does not its meaning lie here? Hence, that maintaining the precepts constitutes virtue is clearly shown in the Great Sūtra; that nature's goodness is worthy of veneration is made evident in the Great Treatise. Sometimes they are compared to the sun and moon, or analogized to precious pearls; in meaning they equal fragrant ointment, and in practice resemble treasuring water. Crossing the great ocean, they are called a sturdy ship; nurturing the sprouts of goodness, they are also termed level ground. Therefore, when a bodhisattva receives them, not a dust-mote is missing; when an arhat safeguards them, not a mustard seed is transgressed. One would rather die clutching thirst than drink water with insects; one would rather be bound until death than harm leaves of grass. The text says: 'Establish yourself and practice the Way; make your name illustrious in later generations.' Words and deeds should be loyal and trustworthy, cautious and trembling. How can one give free rein to the horse of the mind without applying the bridle, or let gallop the monkey of passions with no restraining lock? Once the floating bladder is ruined, what hope is there for the journey ahead? Once the vase of virtue is broken, the superior conditions are severed forever. Or again, one gathers evil persons and forms cliques with fierce gangs, fanning one another's flames and completely committing errors and blemishes. Without shame or remorse, devoid of modesty or disgrace, day by day it increases further, sinking deeper and deeper. It is like the flixweed and wormwood, whose branches and leaves are entirely bitter; while the harītakī fruit tree is supremely sweet throughout. Entering darkness from light, there is no further time of emergence. The kalpas being vast, the pain and suffering are difficult to bear. Thereupon, cauldrons of boiling water seethe and rush, their fierce steam piercing the heavens; furnace coals glow blazing hot, their crackling sounds splitting the earth. Molten copper is poured into the mouth, so that the bowels rot and the liver melts; copper pillars press against the body, so that flesh and bones are entirely consumed. Tossing and turning, wailing and crying—how can words express it? Such sufferings indeed arise from breaking the precepts.