出三藏記集 10.51

10.51

The *Vibhāṣā* is indeed the ultimate refuge of the Tripiṭaka and the compass of the nine divisions [of scriptures]. When the compass is aligned, the deluded masses are reformed and righted; when the ultimate refuge is proclaimed, the chariot of heterodoxy halts. More than six hundred years after Śākyamuni withdrew his radiance, there were five hundred arhats in North Tianzhu who considered that the spiritual lamp had long been submerged, the divine torch had shed its glow, and sentient beings were dimly grieving just as a heavy dream was beginning. Although the former eminent Kātyāyana had compiled the Abhidharma to rescue the declining fortune, later scholars investigated its central principles, and rival factions contended, with right and wrong thrown into confusion. Therefore, purifying their spirits in profound contemplation and investigating the characteristics of dharmas, they composed the *Vibhāṣā* to curb and rectify the various doctrines. In some places they addressed distinct analyses; in others, they marked critical judgments. Its reasoning was profound and vast, its diction splendid and expansive, causing the eminent scholars of the Western Regions all to rely on it to reflect their minds and inspect it to illumine their understanding. Its dark currents, secretly sprinkling, were about to drench distant regions. However, truth does not function in vain; its propagation depends upon people. The Great King of Hexi, Juqu, had a heavenly mind that was vast and broad, and set his sincere aspirations on the profound. Although his tracks were entangled in bustling affairs, his spirit dwelled in the mystical realm; thus he could make the hills and ravines his court, and the mansions his wilderness. This caused the old hermits of the deep pools to drop their fishing rods and the recluses of the cliffs to come to court; those who quieted their minds ascended his hall, and mystical guests entered his chamber. When sincere devotion became manifest, the spiritual response came unlooked-for. There was the śramaṇa Daotai, whose natural talent was divine, his lofty spirit open and lucid. He broadly examined wondrous depths and engaged in foreign languages from afar. In the past, considering that the Mahāyāna was already complete in the Han land and its obscure principles broadly clear, what he had not yet mastered was only the Tripiṭaka and the nine divisions. Therefore, leaning on his staff and braving perils, he went west of the Congling Mountains, surveyed the Fan texts, and inherited their lofty purport, also obtaining over one hundred thousand gāthās of Hu manuscripts. Upon arriving in the territory of Liang, the King immediately wished to have them translated; yet fearing that the firmness of the central truth might not be fully attained, he vacated his seat and opened his mind, eagerly anticipating an eminent master. At that time, there was an Indian śramaṇa named Buddhavarman, who was traveling widely to spread the teaching and arrived in Liang. His understanding was profound and expansive, his spiritual disposition deep and vast; when he savored and investigated it, it seemed unfathomable. Thus, in the middle of the fourth month of the yichou year, at the Xianyu Palace monastery in the inner gardens of the city of Liang, he was requested to translate its doctrinal taste. The śramaṇas Zhisong, Daolang, and more than three hundred others examined the text and analyzed the meaning, striving to preserve the original purport; eliminating verbosity, they adhered to the substance, making it plain but not crude. The King personally turned his carriage back many times to refine its obscure subtleties, ensuring that the text corresponded to the principles and the phrasing conveyed the meaning. By the first third of the seventh month in the dingmao year, it was completely finished, totaling one hundred fascicles. It happened that the city of Liang fell and was submerged in a distant realm; the produced manuscripts of the scripture were scattered and almost entirely lost. Now, the King of Liang's faith springs from within, and he deeply probes the obscure subtleties; therefore, whenever new and extraordinary works arrive, he eagerly longs to hear them. At the beginning of that year, he had the previously produced sixty fascicles copied again and sent to the Song court to proclaim what had not yet been heard. It is hoped that the daily-renewed beauty may be displayed in the present, and the rise of blessed fortune may be handed down to future generations. Because of a later karmic affinity, I, Daoyan, was able to join the audience at the end. Unable to conceal my sincere delight in this encounter, I have roughly set out the events of the time to bequeath to future wise men.