出三藏記集 11.27

11.27

Harivarman—called Shizikai in the Song—appeared nine hundred years after the Buddha's parinirvāṇa, born as the son of a brāhmaṇa in Central India. In his birth, he was truly one born destined for his age: in childhood his spiritual promise was preeminent, and in adulthood his thought encompassed transformation and adaptation. As for secular classics and the Vedas, along with unusual techniques of yin and yang, and Tiśya's lofty treatises, as well as external questioning and disputations, all of them he investigated in their profundity once they crossed his ears, and exhausted their subtleties once met by his mind. Yet he considered secular teachings mere inherited conventions, not the essential core of the mind. Encountering a brāhmaṇa who guided him to the true track, he thereupon pulled out his hairpin and changed his robes, becoming a disciple of Kumāralāta, a śramaṇa of the Sarvāstivāda school. His master, recognizing his extraordinary capacity, at once instructed him in renowned scriptures: the Great Abhidharma composed by Kātyāyana, which had several thousand verses, transmitting it to him with the words: 'This treatise is indeed the comprehensive model for the scriptures and the essential summary of the tripiṭaka. If you can investigate it with single-minded devotion, your awakening to the Way will not be far off.' Thereupon Harivarman reverently accepted and studied it; before a month had passed, he had mastered its text and meaning. He then sighed with deep feeling and said: 'I have heard that the Buddha's intent is vacant and serene, beyond the reach of names and characteristics; its spirit is clear and wonderfully transcendent, rarely plumbed by ordinary sentiments. For this reason the ancient masters revered and respected it, and I too focused my mind in turning to it with devotion. As for what has been received today, I see only superficial prolixity impeding the mind, and fragmented divisions harming the intent. A sūtra says: "Names and characteristics ultimately possess no marvelous distinction." If this was taken as the gradual accommodation to the times by the ancient sages answering their era, then this is the stream of teaching, not the source of transformation.' Thereupon, within several years, he plumbed the purport of the tripiṭaka and investigated the origin of the nine streams; only then did he realize that the five schools established the foundation for wandering astray, and Kātyāyana initiated the beginning of biased contention. In confusing disarray their legacy was left, their plans diverging into a hundred ruts, causing those who seek the central lineage to be blinded by its prolix text, and those who seek the teaching to be confused by its divergent tracks. When the source is identical yet the branches differ, it is indeed a sign of impending decline; that the collapsed guidelines are not restored is also a sorrow for those who propagate the Way. He thereupon spoke openly against the five differences and disputed with the masters to correct them, striving to follow the great standard and taking his stand without deference. He was so sharp and agile that his spearheads rose everywhere, embracing all accomplished masters; his eloquence flowed like a hanging river, his clear replies meeting no obstruction. At that time the masters were shaken like thunder, looking at each other at a loss. Later, gathering on another day, they deliberated: 'This youth relies on his brilliance to trample upon the seniors of long standing; his statements have roots and branches and cannot easily be overturned. Now that we are advanced in years and meet with such a turn of fortune, what should we do?' Someone among the debaters said: 'Is it only that this youth's talent and brilliance surpass others? It is rather that our scriptures and treatises are easily exhausted. We think that learning knows no self-sufficiency: when in darkness, one consults the bright. The distinction between clarity and obscurity is already evident; why stubbornly cling to biased knowledge and refuse to learn from broad perspective?' The senior elders said: 'We indeed admire his brilliance deeply, yet we have occupied the world's venerable position for a long time. It is clear that we cannot suddenly abandon our long-standing vocation to seek instruction from a youth. Why is this so? The roots are identical while the leaves disperse—such is the nature of forms and numbers. The rise of the five schools has its own origin. We need only reinforce our original vocation and practice it reverently. Having been born at the end of a thousand years, who can trace back to the beginning of the correct Dharma from afar? Moreover, when Harivarman first pulled out his hairpin, he received the Way from our group; later participating in divergent studies, he had already separated himself from our community. Because masters and ancestors differ, the five schools do not depart from the regulation of expelling dissenters. The former master's ancient scriptures may fortunately be transmitted, while his individual insight may save him from the conformist crowd.' Since Harivarman possessed grand talent and free-spirited detachment, with a broad mind and far-reaching capacity, though public rebukes clamored around him, he remained proud, composed, and deeply realized, forgetting self-interest and traveling clearly in the ordinary path. His spiritual function was calm and profound; choosing his tree, he altered his steps. At that time there were monks of the Mahāsāṃghika school dwelling in Pāṭaliputra, all revering the Mahāyāna, saying it was the root of the five schools. Having long heard that Harivarman's talent surpassed the eminent crowd and was envied by the masters, they sighed together and invited him to dwell with them. Thereupon he was able to apply his mind to the Vaipulya and concentrate his intent on the ninefold division of scriptures, collecting subtle words and searching out hidden meanings. He then broadly cited the discussions of the hundred schools and various streams to test the arguments regarding the profundities, open passages, and blockages of the scriptures. He refined the five schools and critically reviewed their divergent tenets; he investigated Kātyāyana and rejected his biased errors; discarding prolixity and abandoning the branches, he longed to preserve and return to the root. Thus he composed an illuminating treatise entitled the Tattvasiddhi (Chéngshí lùn). Revering and adhering to the tripiṭaka, he set forth the four noble truths in proper order, brightly explaining the ultimate standard across two hundred and two chapters. His intent lay in unifying the lineage and gloriously exalting the bequeathed tracks, hoping to put an end to divergent contentions and together follow universal salvation. When this treatise was promulgated, its profound elegance drew crowds; within ten days it shook Magadha. At that time in India there was a non-Buddhist dialectician, said to be a disciple of Ulūka, whose clear discernment was unconstrained and who always set forth arguments mocking the orthodox. Traveling through various states to challenge others, none could master him. Hearing that the king of Pāṭaliputra revered the Three Jewels, he wished to obstruct the king's faith and also make his name resound in distant regions; so he took his staff and traveled south of the Gaṅgā directly to Magadha. The king was displeased to hear this, and at once issued a summons throughout his territory: whoever could defeat him in debate would be honored as the National Master. The heroes across the whole realm feared his high reputation, and all said: 'Unless one has the talent of Harivarman, who is equal to this undertaking?' Hearing this, the king was delighted and immediately gave orders to welcome him reverently. When Harivarman arrived, the king invited him to ascend the debate hall and bade him determine the truth between the two with the non-Buddhist. At that time the non-Buddhist's ambition reached the clouds; proudly chanting, he said: 'Our great master Kaṇāda was magnificent, relied upon as a teacher of the world. In extensive phrasing, the six categories are linked together; in concise purport, consciousness differs from the soul. The soul is the master of consciousness; annihilation alone is our tenet. Should anyone dare oppose this, let my head be cut off in apology!' Harivarman, possessing grand talent transcending the world, looked upon him lightly; his spiritual promise soared to the skies, and the expression of his face did not change. With deep emotion he replied: 'How strange is your discourse! The reason you have traveled across distant lands is to exalt your soul and augment your consciousness. Yet taking annihilation as your tenet, you slander your own purport. Do you lack consciousness? Can the soul be annihilated? Since the soul is not consciousness, does the soul know consciousness, or does consciousness know the soul? If the soul knows consciousness, who knows the soul? If consciousness knows the soul, is consciousness also the soul?' The non-Buddhist then drew back and doubted himself, saying: 'If the principle must be annihilation, then I have no consciousness. If consciousness knows the soul, then the soul is not the primary tenet.' Thereupon, contemplating deeply, he admitted defeat, submissive in both mind and body. The king, his ministers, and the common people rejoiced beyond measure, and together with the whole land honored Harivarman as the National Master. The king then reprimanded Harivarman's former community for having previously envied a worthy of renown. The original community looked at each other with shame and deficiency; all of them yielded and earnestly invited him back to his old residence. The king also said: 'Subduing the heterodox and returning to the orthodox—how vast is his virtue! Yet the worthy ones who propagate the teaching still hold divergent pursuits, opposing the bequeathed fish-traps and throwing the model into confusion. We request that he examine and unify them, so that the errant and benighted may revere the bright.' The king immediately proclaimed him the Great Ancestor of the Semblance Teaching. As a result, debaters from the eight directions and those of profound differences, moved by the desire to resolve past doubts, assembled like companions bound by a pledge. With peerless talent and transcendent eloquence, Harivarman always sought to take the sage as his teacher, adhere to the scriptures, integrate the silent, and harmonize the divergent. He then broadly adduced the open and blocked paths of the tripiṭaka, completely closing off the routes of contention among the five schools; he interrogated what they clung to, resolved what they found difficult, and his illuminating eloquence was expansive, encompassing all doctrines. Facing order and disorder, he responded to the key impetus, his spiritual mastery as though effortless. Thereupon the renowned heroes from all quarters could harbor no differing views; all abandoned their separate schemes and received the true track of the Way. Pure transformation flourished because of this, and heterodox mists dispersed because of this. Were it not for one whose spirit matched the true ford and whose Way joined the profound purport, who could sweep away and settle all differences, causing people to discard selfhood and seek universality? Thus I have roughly set forth the beginning and end, leaving it to those who take pleasure in such matters. (Biographies of the great masters who composed the treatises on enumeration were all collected under the Sarvāstivāda school; since this master was not included in those biographies, his account is appended here.)