諸經要集 8

English (machine translation) 8

Language: English

8.1

Compiled by the śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Monastery

8.2

Section 13: Repaying Kindness (having three circumstances)
Section 14: Releasing Living Beings
Section 15: Initiating Merit

8.3

Circumstance of Stating the Intention
Circumstance of Repaying Kindness
Circumstance of Betraying Kindness

8.4

First Circumstance: Stating the Intention

It is heard that the profound kindness of the Triratna and the compassionate father of the four kinds of beings nurtures the ten directions, regarding all equally as an only child. There is no subtle capacity that is not overseen; where wisdom approaches, it must comfort. Thus King Udayana carved a statue whose radiant light rose luxuriantly, and King Prasenajit cast an image, stepping down from his seat in awe. Ever after, miraculous omens responded repeatedly and good fame spread afar, like grass bending before the wind. By mindfulness of them, sins are extinguished and blessings arise; by revering them, goodness aids distant generations. This is truly because the Tathāgata nurtures our dharmakāya, while parents nourish our physical body. Since their kindness and virtue are so deep, even vast heaven is hard to repay. How much more so if one violates such heavy kindness—would one not sink forever in the ocean of suffering? For this reason, when a woman was poisoned, her husband received the state's reward; when a woodcutter harmed a beast, both of his arms fell off. Therefore, the Dazhidulun says: 'Knowing kindness is the root of great compassion, the opening gate to good karma; such a person is loved and respected by others, their fame spreads far and wide, upon death they are born in heaven, and ultimately attain buddhahood. Those who do not know kindness are worse than animals.'

8.6

Second Circumstance: Repaying Kindness

8.7

As the Saddharmasmṛtyupasthāna-sūtra says: 'There are four kinds of kindness that are extremely difficult to repay. What are the four? First, one's mother; second, one's father; third, the Tathāgata; and fourth, the Dharma master who preaches the Dharma. If anyone makes offerings to these four kinds of persons, they will obtain immeasurable blessings, be praised by others in the present life, and be able to attain bodhi in future lives.'

8.8

Also, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-sūtra (Fascicle 443) says: 'If anyone asks: "Who knows kindness and is able to repay kindness?" one should rightly answer: "The Buddha is the one who knows kindness and repays kindness." Why is this? Because in all the world, none surpasses the Buddha in knowing kindness and repaying kindness.'

8.9

Also, the Ekottarikāgama says: 'At that time, the Bhagavat told the bhikṣus: "If there are sentient beings who know how to reciprocate kindness, such people are worthy of respect. They do not forget even small kindnesses, much less great kindnesses. Even if they are separated from me by hundreds of thousands of yojanas, they are still close to me and no different [from being by my side]; I constantly praise them. If there are sentient beings who do not know how to reciprocate kindness, they do not remember even great kindnesses, much less small kindnesses. They are not close to me and I am not close to them. Even if they wear the saṃghāṭī and stand to my left and right, such persons are still far away. Therefore, bhikṣus, you should be mindful of reciprocating kindness, and do not imitate those who fail to reciprocate."'

8.10

Also, the Śāriputraparipṛcchā-sūtra says: 'The Buddha said: "When receiving precepts, one may make offerings according to one's means, without limit on amount." Mañjuśrī said to the Buddha: "Why does the Tathāgata say that the kindness of parents is great and cannot go unrepaid, and also say that the kindness of teachers and the Saṃgha is immeasurable? Which of them is supreme?" The Buddha said: "For householders, filial service to parents at their knees cannot be equaled by any repayment for birth and upbringing; because the kindness of birth and upbringing is profound, it is spoken of as great. If one learns from a teacher to develop knowledge and vision, that is next in greatness. For those who leave the household, casting away parents and the household of birth and death to enter the gate of Dharma and receive the subtle and wonderful Dharma is through the teacher's power. Nurturing the dharmakāya and producing the wealth of merit to sustain the life of wisdom, the teacher's merit is unmatched; looking back to those who gave birth to them, they come next."'

8.11

Also, in the Antarābhava-sūtra, the Buddha asked Maitreya: 'From the time an infant of Jambudvīpa falls to the ground upon birth until the age of three, how much milk does it drink in its mother's embrace?' Maitreya answered: 'It drinks one hundred and eighty hu of milk, excluding the four parts of nourishment taken within the mother's womb. An infant of Pūrvavideha, from falling to the ground upon birth until the age of three, drinks one thousand eight hundred hu of milk. An infant of Aparagodānīya, from falling to the ground upon birth until the age of three, drinks eight hundred and eighty hu of milk. In Uttarakuru, when an infant falls to the ground upon birth, it is placed beside the road, where passersby offer their fingers to suck, and in seven days it becomes an adult; in that land there is no milk. Sentient beings in the intermediate state drink and draw upon the wind.' (Ancient measures used a small sheng; compared to today's Tang sheng, one sheng corresponds to three old sheng, which is why the volume of milk seems large).

8.12

Also, the Nanbao jing says: 'Even if one carried one's father on the left shoulder and one's mother on the right shoulder for a thousand years, with their feces and urine voided upon one's back, one still could not repay the kindness of one's parents.'

8.13

Furthermore, the Ekottarika-āgama says: "The karmic reward of filial piety and making offerings to one's parents is equal to the merit of a bodhisattva in his final lifetime [before buddhahood]." Furthermore, the Liudu ji jing says: In the past, the Bodhisattva was an estate manager of immense wealth, possessing hundreds of millions. He constantly revered the Three Jewels and turned with loving-kindness toward all sentient beings. Observing the marketplace, he saw a turtle and felt deep pity for it. He asked its price, whether it was expensive or cheap. The owner of the turtle, knowing that the Bodhisattva possessed the virtue of loving-kindness and compassion, answered, "One million." The Bodhisattva replied, "Very good." He took the turtle home and released it by the water. Watching it swim away, with mingled sorrow and joy he vowed: "May all beings be delivered safely from difficulties just as you are now!" He broadly raised great vows, and all the Buddhas praised him. Later that night, the turtle came and gnawed at his gate. Surprised by the noise at the gate, [the Bodhisattva] went out and saw it. The turtle spoke to the Bodhisattva, saying, "I have received your heavy bounty and my body has been preserved; I have nothing with which to repay your kindness. As an aquatic creature, I know the rise and fall of waters. A great flood is about to arrive, which will surely bring tremendous catastrophe. Please quickly prepare a boat, and when the time comes I will meet you." He replied, "Very good." The next morning he went to the palace gate and reported the matter to the king. Because the Bodhisattva had long had a reputation for goodness, the king trusted and relied on his words, moving the populace from low-lying areas to high ground. When the time arrived, the turtle came, and the floodwaters arrived. [The turtle said,] "Quickly board and load the boat. Follow where I go, and you may escape calamity." The boat followed behind it. There was a snake that rushed toward the boat. The Bodhisattva said, "Take it." The turtle said, "Very good." He also saw a floating fox and said, "Take it." The turtle said, "That is also good." He then saw a drowning man, who was slapping his cheeks, crying out to heaven, and begging: "Pity me and save my life!" [The Bodhisattva] said, "Take him." The turtle said, "Beware of taking him! Ordinary men are deceitful, and few remain faithful to the end. They turn their backs on kindness, pursue power, and love to commit wicked rebellion." The Bodhisattva said, "If you rescue crawling creatures, yet I despise a human being, how could that be benevolence? I cannot bear to do so." Thereupon he took him aboard. The turtle said, "You will regret this!" They eventually reached a fertile land. The turtle took its leave, saying, "My debt of gratitude is fulfilled; I ask to withdraw." [The Bodhisattva] replied, "When I attain the Tathāgata, Arhat, Samyaksaṃbuddha, I will surely deliver you." The turtle said, "Very good." The turtle withdrew, and the snake and fox each departed. The fox made its dwelling in a burrow, where it discovered a hundred pounds of fine purple-burnished gold hidden by ancient people. Overjoyed, it said, "I must repay that kindness!" The fox returned and reported, "I, a small creature, received your bounty and had my meager life saved. A creature that lives in a burrow, I sought a burrow to dwell in safety and found a hundred pounds of gold. This burrow is not a tomb, nor a home; it was not robbed, nor was it stolen. It has come about through my utmost sincerity. I wish to offer it to the virtuous one." The Bodhisattva deeply reflected: "If I do not take it, it will simply be discarded to no purpose. It can be distributed in dāna to poor folk. Would it not also be good if sentient beings were aided?" He then went and took it. The rescued man saw it and said, "Give me half!" The Bodhisattva immediately bestowed ten pounds upon him. The rescued man said, "You dug up a tomb and robbed gold—a crime that deserves death! Why will you not give me half? If you do not divide it in half and give it to me, I will surely inform the magistrates!" [The Bodhisattva] replied, "I wish to give it equitably to the poor and destitute. For you to want to monopolize it—is that not partial?" The rescued man then reported him to the magistrates. The Bodhisattva was arrested and imprisoned, with no one to appeal to. He simply took refuge in the Three Jewels, stopped up his faults, blamed himself, and compassionately vowed: "May sentient beings quickly be freed from the eight difficulties and have no resentment or knot of enmity, as I do today." The snake and the fox met and said, "What can be done about this matter?" The snake said, "I will rescue him." It then held a miraculous medicine in its mouth, unlocked the gate, and entered the prison. Seeing the Bodhisattva, whose complexion and appearance were bruised and emaciated, it felt sorrowful and heartbroken. It said to the Bodhisattva, "Keep this medicine with you. I will bite the prince's finger; its poison is extremely deadly, and no one will be able to cure it. When you, virtuous one, announce yourself and apply the medicine, he will instantly recover." The Bodhisattva remained silent. The snake acted as it had said. The prince's life was on the verge of ending. The king issued a decree: "Whoever can save him shall be enfeoffed as prime minister, and I will share the governance with him." The Bodhisattva reported this to the king, and upon applying the medicine [the prince] immediately recovered. Overjoyed, the king asked the reason for this, and [the Bodhisattva] set forth the entire story from beginning to end. The king was filled with regret, blamed himself, and said, "How very blind I have been!" He immediately executed the rescued man, proclaimed a great amnesty throughout his kingdom, enfeoffed [the Bodhisattva] as prime minister, took him by the hand into the palace, and sat with him to discourse on the Buddha-Dharma, thereby bringing about great peace. The Buddha addressed the bhikṣus: "The estate manager was myself; the king was Maitreya; the turtle was Ānanda; the fox was Śāriputra; the snake was Maudgalyāyana; and the drowning man was Devadatta. Thus was the Bodhisattva's practice of dāna in the perfection of compassionate wisdom."

8.14

Furthermore, the New Mahāvibhāṣā-śāstra says: Formerly, King Kaniṣka of the country of Gandhāra had a eunuch who constantly oversaw affairs in the inner palace. He briefly went outside the city and saw a herd of oxen, numbering more than five hundred, entering the city. He asked the drover, "What kind of oxen are these?" [The drover] replied, "These oxen are about to be castrated." Thereupon the eunuch reflected to himself: "Due to my evil karma from past lives, I have received the body of a non-man. Now I should use my wealth to save these oxen from this peril." He then paid their price and caused them all to be set free. By the power of this wholesome karma, this eunuch was immediately restored to a male body. Profoundly rejoicing, he immediately returned into the city, stood at the palace gate, and sent an attendant to report to the king, requesting to enter and present himself. The king ordered him to be summoned in and, surprised, asked the reason. Thereupon the eunuch fully reported the previous events. Hearing this, the king was astonished and delighted. He generously bestowed precious treasures upon him and promoted him to high office, placing him in charge of external affairs.

8.15

Circumstances of Betraying Kindness, Part Three

8.16

As the Baiyu jing says: Formerly, there was a woman who was wanton and licentious beyond measure. Her lustful passion being vehement, she detested her husband. She constantly thought of strategies, repeatedly wishing to harm him, but despite various schemes she found no opportunity. It happened that her husband was sent as an envoy to a neighboring country. The wife secretly devised a plot, making poisoned balls with which she intended to kill her husband. She deceitfully told her husband, "You are now going on a distant mission, and I worry that you will lack provisions. I have now made five hundred delight-candies (modaka) to serve as provisions and see you off. When you leave the country and reach foreign territory, you may take and eat them when you are hungry and exhausted." The husband followed her words, and after reaching the foreign territory, before he had eaten them, he lodged overnight in a forest in the dark of night. Fearing ferocious beasts, he climbed a tree to avoid them, forgetting and leaving the delight-candies under the tree. That very night, it happened that five hundred thieves had stolen five hundred horses as well as treasures from the king of that country and came to rest under the tree. Because of their headlong flight, they were all hungry and thirsty, and they saw the delight-candies under the tree. The thieves took them and each ate one ball. The poisonous vapors of the medicine were potent, and all five hundred thieves died at the same time. When dawn came, the man in the tree saw these thieves lying dead under the tree. He deceitfully struck and shot the corpses with knife and arrows, collected their saddles, horses, and treasures, and drove them toward that country. At that time, the king of that country, leading a large troop of men, was pursuing them by tracking their trail. Halfway along the road, he encountered that man. The king asked, "Who are you, and where did you get these horses?" The man answered, "I am a man of such-and-such a country. On the road I encountered a band of thieves, and we fought with blades and arrows. The five hundred thieves are now all dead together in one place under a tree. For this reason, I obtained these horses and treasures, and have come to submit to Your Majesty's kingdom. If you do not believe me, go and see the wounds and slaughter on the thieves." The king immediately dispatched a trusted attendant to go and see, and it was indeed as he had said. The king was then overjoyed and exclaimed at what had never been before. Having returned to his country, he bestowed lavish titles and rewards upon him, enfeoffing him with a village. The king's former ministers were all filled with envy and jealousy, and said to the king, "He is a man from afar and cannot yet be trusted and submitted to. Why should he suddenly receive such excessive favor, even surpassing the old ministers in titles and rewards?" When the man from afar heard this, he spoke these words: "Who is so brave and strong that they can test themselves against me? I request that we compare skills on an open plain." The old ministers were flabbergasted, and none dared to face him. Later, in the great wilderness of that country, there was a ferocious lion that blocked the road and killed people, cutting off the king's highway. The old ministers conferred together: "That man from afar claims to be so brave and strong that none can match him. If he can now kill that lion and eliminate this harm for the state, it would truly be extraordinary!" Having made this consultation, they spoke to the king. Having heard this, the king gave him knives and staves, and immediately dispatched him. At that time, the man from afar, having received the order, steeled his resolve and went to the lion's lair. Seeing him, the lion roared and leapt forward. Terrified, the man from afar immediately climbed a tree. The lion opened its mouth and looked up toward the tree. In extreme panic, the man dropped the knife he was holding; it fell into the lion's mouth, and the lion instantly died. At that time, the man from afar leapt with joy, went and reported to the king, and the king doubled his favor toward him. Thereupon the people of that country spontaneously respected and submitted to him, and all praised him.

8.17

Furthermore, the Zhujing yaoji says: A man entered a forest to fell trees, lost his way, and went astray. At that time there was heavy rain; dusk fell, and he was hungry and cold. Evil insects and venomous beasts were about to harm him. The man went inside a stone cave. There was a great bear inside, and upon seeing it he fled out in terror. The bear said to him, "Do not be afraid. This dwelling is warm; you may lodge within." The rain then continued for seven days, during which the bear constantly supplied this man with sweet fruit and delicious water. After seven days the rain stopped, and the bear led the man and showed him the path. The bear said to the man, "I possess a body born of sin and have many human enemies. If anyone asks, do not say you saw me." The man answered, "Yes." Ahead, this man met hunters who asked, "Where do you come from? Have you seen any beasts?" He answered, "I saw a great bear. It was kind to me, so I cannot show you." The hunters said, "You are of the company of humans. Considering our common human kind, why should you spare a bear? Now having lost your way once, when will you ever return? If you show us, we will give you a large share." The man's heart changed, and he immediately led the hunters to point out the bear's dwelling. The hunters killed the bear and gave him a large share. The man stretched out his arms to take the meat, and both of his forearms fell off. The hunters said, "What sin have you committed?" He answered, "This bear looked upon me as a father looks upon a child. Now that I have turned my back on its kindness, this is the retribution for my sin." The hunters were terrified and did not dare to eat the meat. They took it and offered it to the saṃgha. The elder [monk], who was an arhat, said to the junior monks, "This was a bodhisattva who in a future life in the world will become a Buddha. Do not eat this meat." They immediately erected a stūpa to make offerings to it. When the king heard of this matter, he issued an edict throughout the kingdom: "Let no ungrateful person dwell here." (The New Vibhāṣā-śāstra says: At that time, the elder examined the meat and recognized it was the flesh of a bodhisattva. Together they gathered fragrant firewood, burned the meat, collected the remaining bones, erected a stūpa, and bowed and made offerings to it just as if serving a Buddha-stūpa.) Furthermore, the Jiu se lu jing (Sūtra of the Nine-Coloured Deer) says: In the past, the Bodhisattva was born as a nine-coloured deer. Its hair was of nine colours, and its horns were as white as snow. It always lived along the banks of the Ganges, drinking water and eating grass, and was constantly friends with a crow. At that time, there was a drowning man in the water, drifting downstream, now surfacing, now submerging, who looked up to the heavens and cried out, "Spirits of the mountains, spirits of the trees, all you devas and nāgas, why do you not take pity on me?" The deer, hearing this, went into the water to save him, telling him, "You may ride on my back and hold onto my horns." It carried him out onto the bank. The drowning man got down onto the ground, circumambulated the deer three times, kowtowed to it, and begged to become its slave, serving its needs and collecting water and grass for it. The deer said, "There is no need. Just go your own way. If you wish to repay my kindness, do not tell anyone that I am here. People covet my hide and horns and would surely come to kill me." At that time, the king's consort saw the nine-coloured deer in a dream at night; she immediately feigned illness and took to her bed. The king asked why, and she answered, "Last night I dreamed of an extraordinary deer whose hair was of nine colours and whose horns were as white as snow. I long to obtain its hide to make a seat cushion and its horns to make fly-whisk handles. The king must obtain it for me; if you do not, I shall die." The king offered a bounty throughout the kingdom: whoever could obtain it would be granted half the kingdom to govern, presented with a golden bowl filled with silver grain, and presented with a silver bowl filled with golden grain. The drowning man heard of this, and wishing to gain wealth and honour, he thought, "The deer is an animal—what does its life or death matter?" He went to the king and said he knew the deer's location. The king was overjoyed and said, "If you can bring its hide and horns, I shall reward you with half the kingdom." Leprous sores immediately broke out on the drowning man's face. The drowning man said, "Great King, although this deer is a beast, it possesses great spiritual power. Your Majesty should deploy many soldiers, only then can it be taken." The king immediately deployed a large force and went straight to the bank of the Ganges. The crow was atop a tree, and seeing the soldiers coming, it called out to the deer, "Friend, get up quickly! The king's soldiers have arrived!" The deer was still in a deep sleep, lying unaware. The crow flew down and pecked its ear, and only then did the deer wake with a start. It looked in all four directions, but there was no ground left to flee, so it went straight up to the side of the king's chariot. The flanking ministers were about to shoot it, but the king said, "Do not shoot! This deer is extraordinary; it must be a deva." The deer said, "Great King, do not shoot me. I previously saved a man of your kingdom." The deer then knelt upright and asked the king, "Who told you I was here?" The king pointed to the man with the leprous face beside his chariot: "It was he." The deer then looked up at this man's face, and tears welled up in its eyes, uncontrollable: "This man was previously drowning in the water. Sparing neither body nor life, I cast myself into the water and carried him out, with an agreement that he would not speak of it. Humans are ungrateful and treacherous; they are not even equal to a piece of driftwood rescued from the water!" The king looked ashamed: "You received its kindness—how could you turn around and wish to kill it?" He immediately issued an edict throughout the kingdom: "If anyone chases this deer, their five clans shall be executed." Thousands of deer all came to take refuge there, drinking water and eating grass without harming the crops. The wind and rain came in due season, the five grains ripened in abundance, people were free from illness, and the age was one of great peace. The nine-coloured deer of that time was myself; the crow was Ānanda; the king was my present father, King Śuddhodana; the king's consort was Sundarī; and the drowning man was Devadatta. Although I turned toward him with a benevolent heart, he still wished to harm me; it is difficult to find sincere intentions.

8.18

Furthermore, the Que wang jing (Sūtra of the Sparrow King) says: In the past, the Bodhisattva was born as a sparrow king. With a compassionate heart he aided the multitude, just as one guards a sore on one's body. A tiger had eaten an animal, and a bone became stuck in its teeth so that it was distressed by hunger and on the verge of death. The sparrow king entered its mouth and pecked at the bone, day after day like this. Sores broke out in the sparrow's mouth and its body became emaciated and scarred. The bone came out and the tiger lived. The sparrow flew up into a tree and expounded the Buddha's sūtra, saying, "Killing is brutal and cruel; no evil is greater than it." When the tiger heard the sparrow's admonishing voice, it flared up in anger and said, "You have only just left my mouth, and yet you dare to say so much!" Seeing that it could not be transformed, the sparrow quickly flew away. The Buddha said, "The sparrow king was myself, and the tiger was Devadatta."

8.19

Furthermore, the Zabaozang jing says: At that time, Devadatta constantly harboured malice and wished to harm the Bhagavat. He then hired five hundred brahmins skilled in archery, directing them to take bows and arrows, go to the Bhagavat, draw their bows, and shoot the Buddha. The arrows that were shot transformed into flowers. When the five hundred brahmins saw this supernatural transformation, they were all greatly terrified; they immediately cast down their bows and arrows, bowed to the Buddha, and repented. The Buddha expounded the Dharma for them, and they all attained the path of the srotāpanna. They further addressed the Buddha, saying, "We pray that you will permit us to leave the household life and study the path." The Buddha said, "Welcome, bhikṣus!" Their hair and beards fell off of themselves, and the robes of the Dharma wrapped their bodies. He again expounded the Dharma for them, and they attained the path of the arhat. The bhikṣus said to the Buddha, "The Bhagavat's spiritual power is extremely rare! Devadatta constantly wishes to harm the Buddha, yet the Buddha always generates great benevolence." The Buddha said, "Not only today is it like this. In the past, there was a caravan leader in the city of Vārāṇasī named Unmindful-of-Kindness. Together with five hundred merchants, he entered the sea to gather jewels. Having obtained the jewels, on their return they reached a swirling whirlpool, where they encountered a water-rākṣasa who seized their ship so that it could not move forward. The merchants were all greatly terrified and cried out together, 'Gods of heaven, gods of earth, gods of the sun and moon! Who can compassionately rescue and deliver us?' There was a great turtle whose back was one league across. It generated pity, came to the ship, carried the crowd, and delivered them across the sea. At that time, the turtle took a short nap. Unmindful-of-Kindness wished to strike the turtle's head with a great rock and kill it. The merchants said, 'We received this turtle's deliverance from hardship and our lives were spared; to kill it is inauspicious and ungrateful.' Unmindful-of-Kindness said, 'I am pressed by urgent hunger; who can think of kindness?' He promptly killed the turtle and ate its flesh. That very night, a great herd of elephants trampled and killed all those people. At that time, the great turtle was myself; Unmindful-of-Kindness was Devadatta; and the five hundred merchants were these five hundred brahmins who have left the household life and attained the path. In the past, I delivered them from peril; today, I have once again uprooted their affliction of birth and death."

8.20

Furthermore, the Candana Tree Sūtra says: The Buddha told Ānanda, "Listen carefully and bear this in mind. Once, in the country of Vaiśālī, five hundred men went into the ocean to gather jewels. Leaving their ships behind, they returned on foot, travelling through deep mountains. When evening fell, they halted and lodged. Making preparations in advance, they set out early. Four hundred and ninety-nine men had already departed, while one man, sound asleep, fell behind his companions. He then encountered falling rain and snow, and lost the trail. In dire distress in the midst of the mountains, he wept and cried out to Heaven. There was a great candana tree, and the tree deity said to the destitute man, 'You may stay here. I will provide you with food and clothing myself; when spring comes, you may leave.' The destitute man then stayed until the third month. He addressed the tree deity, saying, 'Having received your kindness, my whole life has been preserved, yet I have not offered even the slightest recompense. When I reflect that my two parents are now in my native land, I truly long to return. I pray that you will permit me to depart.' The tree deity said, 'Very well,' and following his wish, presented him with a disk of gold, [saying,] 'Not far from here, you shall return to your settlement.' As the destitute man was about to leave, he asked the tree deity, 'This tree is fragrant and pure, rare in the world. Now that I am to leave it behind and return, I wish to know its name.' The deity said, 'There is no need to ask.' The destitute man spoke again: 'I have sheltered beneath this tree for three full months. If I reach my native land, I ought to proclaim the tree's benevolence.' The deity then replied, 'The tree is named candana. Its roots, trunk, branches, and leaves cure people of a hundred illnesses. Its fragrance is heard far and wide; it is a wondrous rarity of the world, coveted and sought by men. There is no need to speak of it.' When the destitute man returned to his country, his kinsmen rejoiced. Not long afterward, the king fell ill with a headache. He prayed and offered sacrifices to the various spirits of heaven, earth, mountains, and waters, but the pain did not subside. A famous physician examined him [and said that] only by obtaining candana incense to protect him would the illness be cured. The king immediately sought it through recruitment, but none was to be found among the populace. He then proclaimed throughout the country that whoever obtained candana incense would be enfeoffed as a marquis and given the king's daughter in marriage. Hearing of the great reward, the destitute man went before the king and said, 'I know the place where the candana incense is.' The king then ordered his artisans and ministers to lead the destitute man to go and fell the fragrant tree. When they arrived at the tree, the envoys saw that the tree was vast and upright, its branches and foliage lush and flourishing, its flowers and fruits radiant. Because it was so rare to behold, they could not bear in their hearts to fell it. Yet if they did not fell it, they would disobey the royal command. They hesitated and paced about, not knowing what to do. The tree deity spoke from the air, saying, 'Fell it, but leave its roots. After felling it, smear it with human blood, and cover it with human liver and entrails; the tree will naturally regenerate and become as it was before.' Hearing the deity speak thus, the envoys ordered men to fell it. The destitute man was standing beside the tree, and a tree branch struck the ground, crushing the destitute man to death. The envoys then conferred with their attendants, saying, 'Earlier, the tree deity said that we must obtain human blood, liver, and entrails to sacrifice to the tree's heart. We did not know who should be used for this sacrifice. Since this man has now died, we may use him in place.' They thereupon butchered and severed him, taking his liver and blood as the deity had instructed. The tree immediately grew again, no different from the original. They loaded the felled tree onto carts to return to the capital. The physician then administered the medicine, and the king's illness was cured. The entire kingdom rejoiced. The king commanded the people of the kingdom that all who were ill should be given the incense; their illnesses were all cured. The entire kingdom was joyful, bringing about great peace. Ānanda stepped back from his seat, bowed his head, and said, 'Why was this destitute man so ungrateful, betraying the oath made to the divine spirit of the tree?' The Buddha replied, 'Long ago, in the time of Vipaśyin Buddha, there was a father and two sons. The father observed the fasting precepts without ever growing slack. The elder son always burnt incense in the open air of the central courtyard as an offering to the Buddhas of the ten directions. The younger brother was foolish and did not know the Three Honoured Ones; he repeatedly threw garments over the incense. The elder brother said to the younger, "This matter is of great gravity; why have you violated it?" The younger brother harboured resentment and evil words, vowing, "I will cut off both your feet." The elder brother then conceived the thought, "I should strike you to death." The father said, "The quarrelling of you two sons gives me a headache." The elder brother replied, "May my body be broken to make medicine so that our father may recover." Because his mouth spoke no false words, he suffered retribution across lifetime after lifetime. The younger brother harboured an evil intention to cut off the elder brother's feet, and consequently led men to cut down the tree trunk. The elder brother wished to strike the younger brother to death; now as the tree deity, he naturally used the tree as a body to strike the younger brother's body to death. The king who had the headache was their father; because he observed the fast with diligence, he attained noble station. Because he had said, "You make my head ache," he later suffered a headache as a result. Each received his own misfortune.' The Buddha said, 'The retribution of sins and blessings follows one like a shadow following a form.' The verse says:

8.21

"Magnificent is the Capable and Benevolent One, / Placing compassionate rescue foremost. / Availing himself of opportunities to respond to needs, / He nurtures with mercy and pity. / The fox's gold and the snake's reward, / The castrated man's body made whole: / Knowing kindness and repaying virtue, / The unseen realm responds thereto. / The rebellious wife poisoned her husband, / Yet Heaven granted a prolonged life; / The predatory beast did not harm, / And in return granted longevity. / Violating kindness and turning against righteousness, / Disasters imperil one's person: / Coveting the incense, he felled the tree; / His liver and blood smeared the spirit."

8.22

Section 14: Releasing Living Beings (comprising four causes)

8.23

Cause 1: Stating the Intent
Cause 2: Arising of Harm
Cause 3: Releasing Living Beings
Cause 4: Rescuing from Distress

8.24

Cause 1: Stating the Intent

8.25

It is heard that among the multitudinous living creatures, none does not crave life; among the fluttering, deluded multitude, all know the fear of death. For this reason, the distressed tiger that has lost its forest entrusts its life to a hut, and the frightened bird with injured feathers casts its body beside a table. As for Young Yang nurturing the sparrow, could he have had any intention toward the jade rings? When the Kong gentleman released the turtle, he had originally no thought of a golden seal. Yet the unseen appointed times never err, and refined recompense arrives in due course. Thus one knows that the karmic deeds of cause and effect are as bright as the sun. Furthermore, the teaching of great compassion takes the rescue of suffering as its prime concern; the mind of the vast vow takes the saving of lives as its foundation. Yet the prominent clans of the five capitals boast of rows of tripods; the unrestrained men of the Three Commanderies all make wielding the butcher's knife their pursuit. What crime have living beings committed that they should wrongly suffer the mutilation of their forms? Sentient beings are without fault, yet arbitrarily meet with the chopping board and pickle vat, causing aggrieved souls to continue without end and painful retributions to be repaid to one another. I now urge benevolent persons to cultivate compassionate practice together: let all that is in peril and fear be preserved and released. Let them fly or sink as they will, following their drinking and pecking. Cause the purple scales and red tails to gaze across lakes and rivers together; cause the brocade breasts and kingfisher feathers equally to roam free among the clouds. Some, hearing the Three Refuges, awaken to the path—how are they different from the blind dragon? Others, hearing the Four Truths, are born in heaven, just like the parrot. Together let us establish the foundation of longevity, and together attain the fruit of eternal life.

8.26

Cause 2: Arising of Harm

8.27

As the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: There are sixteen evil disciplines. What are the sixteen? First, for the sake of profit, feeding and raising lambs and sheep, and when they are fattened, reselling them. Second, for the sake of profit, buying and slaughtering them. Third, for the sake of profit, feeding and raising swine and pigs, and when they are fattened, reselling them. Fourth, for the sake of profit, buying and slaughtering them. Fifth, for the sake of profit, feeding and raising cattle and calves, and when they are fattened, reselling them. Sixth, for the sake of profit, buying and slaughtering them. Seventh, for the sake of profit, raising chickens to fatten them, and when fattened, reselling them. Eighth, for the sake of profit, buying and slaughtering them. Ninth, angling for fish. Tenth, being a hunter. Eleventh, robbery. Twelfth, being an executioner. Thirteenth, netting flying birds. Fourteenth, double-tongued speech. Fifteenth, being a jailer. Sixteenth, enchanting nāgas. To be able, for the sake of sentient beings, to permanently sever these sixteen evil actions is called cultivating the precepts.

8.28

Furthermore, the Miśrakābhidharma-hṛdaya-śāstra says: There are twelve kinds of dwelling in non-discipline: 1. Slaughtering sheep; 2. Raising chickens; 3. Raising pigs; 4. Catching birds; 5. Catching fish; 6. Being a hunter; 7. Being a thief; 8. Being an executioner; 9. Guarding a prison; 10. Enchanting nāgas; 11. Slaughtering dogs; 12. Laying in wait for hunting. "Slaughtering sheep" means killing sheep; because of a murderous intention, whether raising, selling, or slaughtering, all are called slaughtering sheep. Raising chickens and raising pigs are also like this. "Catching birds" means killing birds to sustain oneself. Catching fish and being a hunter are also like this. "Being a thief" means constantly engaging in robbery and harm. "Being an executioner" means taking the killing of people as one's livelihood. "Guarding a prison" means sustaining oneself by guarding a prison. "Enchanting nāgas" means practicing the enchantment of serpents and nāgas for entertainment to sustain oneself. "Slaughtering dogs" refers to the caṇḍāla. "Laying in wait for hunting" refers to the master of the royal hunt.

8.29

Furthermore, the Abhidharma-samuccaya says: Regarding karma of non-discipline, what is called non-discipline? It means slaughtering sheep, raising chickens, raising pigs, catching birds, catching fish, hunting deer, netting hares, robbing, being an executioner, slaughtering cattle, binding elephants, erecting an altar to enchant nāgas, guarding a prison, slandering, and delighting in harming, and so forth. "Slaughtering sheep" means, for the sake of sustaining life, slaughtering, raising, buying, and selling [them]. Raising chickens and pigs and so forth are to be understood accordingly. "Binding elephants" means constantly remaining in the mountain forests to train and capture wild elephants. "Erecting an altar to enchant nāgas" means practicing the enchantment of serpents and nāgas for entertainment to sustain oneself. "Slandering" means destroying another's relations through divisive speech, using it to sustain one's life. "Either by being born into that clan, or by undertaking that occupation" means being born into that family or being born into another family, according to the resolution in that order. "Definitely carrying out that karma" means, preceded by bodily and verbal expedients, resolving decisively to carry out that karma. This is called the karma of non-discipline.

8.30

Cause 3: Releasing Living Beings

8.31

As the Brahmajāla Sūtra says: If a disciple of the Buddha, out of a compassionate heart, performs the act of releasing living beings, [he should reflect:] "All men have been my fathers; all women have been my mothers. There is not a single rebirth through which I have not received birth from them. Therefore, sentient beings of the six destinies are all my parents. If I kill and eat them, I kill my parents and also kill my former body. All earth and water were my previous bodies; all fire and wind were my original nature." Therefore, one should constantly release living beings, generation after generation as one receives birth. If one sees worldly people killing animals, one should use expedients to rescue and protect them, liberating them from their suffering and adversity. One should constantly educate, teach, and explain the bodhisattva precepts to deliver sentient beings. On the day a parent or sibling dies, one should invite a Dharma master to explain the sūtra and vinaya of the bodhisattva precepts, dedicating merits to aid the deceased so that they may see the Buddhas and be born in the human or heavenly realms. If one does not do so, one commits an offense of light defilement.

8.32

Furthermore, the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya says: All the seven assemblies of both clergy and laity must filter water before drinking and using it. When the water has been filtered, have someone who can see the fine lines in the palm of their hand inspect it carefully. When inspecting, the time it takes is about as long as a large elephant turning a bamboo cart around; when it is known to be free [of organisms], it may be used. Have a trustworthy person be instructed to filter it; if someone is not trustworthy, filter it yourself. If insects or organisms are found, carry them back to the original place from which the water was taken and place them there. If the place of origin is distant, and there is a nearby pool or well where water does not dry up for seven days, place the insects inside. If you know that water contains insects, you must not lend the vessel and rope to others. If the water in a pool or river contains insects, you must not call out, "This water has insects!" If someone asks, answer, "Elder, look for yourself." If they are friends or fellow disciples of the same master, say to them, "There are insects here; you should filter the water before using it." Also, the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya states: There were two bhikṣus who had never seen the Buddha. Traveling from a distant land in the north, they went together to Śrāvastī to pay homage to the Bhagavat. On the road, they were parched with thirst and came upon water with insects. The one who broke the precepts said, "We can drink it together." The one who upheld the precepts said, "There are insects in the water; how can we drink it?" The one who broke the precepts said, "If I do not drink, I will surely die of thirst and never see the Buddha." He then drank and went on. The one who upheld the precepts, carefully guarding the precepts, did not drink and subsequently died of thirst. He was immediately born in the Heaven of the Thirty-Three, his body fully perfected. Arriving first before the Buddha, he bowed his head and touched the Buddha's feet. The Buddha preached the Dharma for him, and he attained the purity of the Dharma-eye. Having completed taking the Three Refuges, he returned to heaven. The one who had drank the water arrived before the Buddha later. The Buddha was preaching the Dharma for the fourfold assembly, and, opening his robes, revealed his golden body, [saying,] "You foolish man wished to see my physical body; why are you not like the one who upheld the precepts, who first saw my dharmakāya, the body of wisdom?" The Buddha said, "From this day forward, if a bhikṣu travels more than twenty li without a water-filtering bag, he commits an offense. If he does not have one himself, but a traveling companion of like mind has one, he is permitted to go."

8.33

Furthermore, there were soldiers on an expedition. A bhikṣuṇī instructed the travelers, so that everyone attached a water-filter bag to the tip of their bow to strain water for drinking. An official reported this to the king. When the king heard it, he was enraged and wanted to execute them all, saying: "If you even fear to kill tiny insects, how will you ever be willing to slay enemies when you encounter them?" The traveler explained to the king: "If tiny insects caused harm to the state, your subjects would kill them all. Since they bear no enmity, why should we not be permitted to strain the water and drink it?" Hearing this, the king released them. Through the traveler's righteous compassion and the power of their roots of goodness, even the bandits came to surrender and be transformed.

8.34

Furthermore, the Saddharmasmṛtyupasthāna-sūtra states: If water left overnight is not examined closely, it is feared that tiny insects may breed in it. If it is not strained and treated, do not drink it or use it. This is termed the fine observance of the precept against killing.

8.35

Furthermore, the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa states: In a past age, the people suffered greatly from diseases of jaundice, dropsy, wasting, and fever. At that time, the Bodhisattva was born as a red fish and gave his own flesh to the sick to cure their ailments. Furthermore, there was a bodhisattva who assumed the body of a bird and dwelt in a forest. He saw a man who had entered deep water, a place not traversed by humans, and was ensnared by a water spirit so that he could not untie himself. If one could go to Mount Gandhamādana, take a medicinal herb, and apply it to the snare, the rope would instantly rot away and the man would be freed. The Bodhisattva performed countless such jātaka deeds in past lives, largely delivering beings; these are called jātaka sūtras.

8.36

Furthermore, the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya states: The Buddha said: In a past life, near the Himālayas, there was a deer king named Tejas who was king over five hundred deer. At that time, a hunter laid out grain and set a snare. As the deer king walked forward, his right foot fell into the hair snare. The deer king thought: "If I show signs [of distress], the deer will not dare to eat the grain. I must wait until they finish eating the grain, and only then show my foot's condition." Then all the deer departed, and only one doe remained, who spoke a verse:

8.37

"Great King, you should know, / The hunter is coming; / Pray exert your skillful means / To escape from this snare and go."

8.38

At that time, the deer king answered in verse:

8.39

"I have exerted skillful means, / But my strength is exhausted; / The hair snare grows ever tighter; / I am unable to escape."

8.40

Seeing that the hunter had arrived, the doe spoke a verse to him:

8.41

"With your sharp knife, / Kill my body first, / And then pray release / The deer king and let him go."

8.42

Hearing this, the hunter gave rise to a compassionate heart and replied in verse:

8.43

"I will never kill you, / Nor will I kill the deer king; / I release you and the deer king / To go wherever you please."

8.44

The hunter immediately released the deer king. The Buddha said: "The deer king of old was myself; the five hundred deer were the five hundred bhikṣus." At that time there was also a king of wild geese whom a hunter captured. A companion goose wished to give up its life in its place and likewise exchanged verses. The hunter took pity on them and released both geese. Later they sought precious gems to repay his kindness. The general meaning is the same as the above.

8.45

Furthermore, the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa states: When the king heard the deer's words, he rose from his seat and spoke a verse:

8.46

"I am truly a beast, / Named a deer with a human head; / Though you have the body of a deer, / You are named a human with a deer's head. / Speaking according to principle, / It is not by bodily form that one is a human; / If one can have maitrī-karuṇā, / Though an animal, one is truly a human. / Beginning from this day, / I shall not eat any meat; / By bestowing fearlessness upon you, / For now I may set your mind at ease."

8.47

Furthermore, the Samantapāsādikā states: Maudgalyāyana expounded a jātaka sūtra to King Aśoka, saying: Great King, once in the past there was a partridge bird that was caged and bound on the ground, sorrowful and terrified. It cried out loudly, and its fellows gathered like clouds and were killed by men. The partridge asked a man of the Way: "Do I have guilt or not?" The man of the Way answered: "When you cried out, did you have a mind to kill?" The partridge bird said: "I cried out to summon my companions; I had no mind to kill." The man of the Way replied: "If you had no mind to kill, you have no guilty mind." And he spoke a verse:

8.48

"When not connected with the same action, / And not arising from the same intent, / A good person who holds their mind steady / Will not have guilt unjustly laid upon them."

8.49

Furthermore, the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya states: The Buddha told the bhikṣus: In a past age, on Mount Gandhamādana, there was the dwelling of a rṣi. Not far from the mountain was a pond. At that time, there was a softshell turtle in the water that came out of the pond to seek food. Having eaten, it faced the sun, opened its mouth, and slept. At that time, there were monkeys on Mount Gandhamādana that went into the pond to drink water. Having climbed onto the bank, a monkey saw this turtle sleeping with its mouth open; the monkey then acted lewdly and inserted his penis into the turtle's mouth. Waking up, the turtle closed its mouth and tucked in its six limbs within its shell. As the verse says:

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諸經要集 — Classical Chinese