開元釋教錄 8.6.11

8.6.11

When interred, his complexion was just as in life; had it not been sustained by the power of his vows, how could this have come to pass? The Master's stature was seven cubits tall, his frame was broad, and his complexion was reddish-white. His eyebrows and eyes were open and bright; his physical presence was composed and dignified. His discourse was elegant and pure, and the phrasing of his words resonated far and wide, causing listeners to feel no fatigue and onlookers to forget weariness. Whether among his disciples or before esteemed guests, he would sit upright for half a day without the slightest swaying. In attire he favored Gandhāra cut, tailored solely of fine cotton, of moderate length and breadth. He walked with ease and dignity, looking straight ahead without glancing about, grand and vast like the Great River giving order to the earth, bright and brilliant like a lotus resting on water. In addition, his monastic discipline was upright and steady, unchanging from beginning to end; his devotion to guarding it surpassed that of protecting a buoyant float, and the firmness of his reverence exceeded that of [the monk] bound with reeds. By nature he loved tranquility and simplicity, disliking casual socializing; once inside the monastery, he would not emerge except by imperial order. Furthermore, it is reported that in the height of summer his body did not sweat, and in severe winter his complexion showed no distress; nor did he slump, slouch, yawn, or sneeze. This surely makes it impossible to fathom his spiritual attainment—to what rank of worthy or sage could he be compared? Again, when he manifested illness at the Northern Palace, wondrous portents were manifold; on the day he approached his end, his countenance was joyful and at ease, which likewise is hard to measure. More than a month after his passing, someone arrived bearing sandalwood powder incense, requesting to anoint the Tripiṭaka Master's body according to the customs of the Western regions. The assembly refused to permit it. That person looked stern and said, 'This disciple has received a special imperial command. If the masters do not permit it, please draw up a memorial to report this.' The assembly complied. When the coffin was opened and the shrouds were uncovered, everyone perceived an extraordinary fragrance, resembling the scent of lotus blossoms; astounded, they questioned each other, and all said it was thus. That person removed all the shrouding garments, leaving only his inner robe. When the assembly beheld the Tripiṭaka Master looking as if alive, everyone wept aloud and gazed upon him together. Once that person had applied the incense, arranged the shrouds, and closed the coffin, in an instant his whereabouts were lost; the assembly suspected he was a divine being. Furthermore, in examining his words and observing his conduct, his reputation and reality matched each other. Rigorous and diligent morning and evening, he allotted his duties by the hour, reverent and untiring, dedicated to the affairs of the Dharma. His speech was devoid of fame and profit; his deeds were entirely free of superficiality. He subtly discerned inclinations and circumstances, and was well versed in the natures of things. Neither haughty nor sycophantic, he took office or withdrew as the times dictated. Uttering subtle and profound insights, his eloquence resolved doubts and debates. Truly he was an outstanding worthy of his age, a great commander of the Dharma within the lineage of Śākya. Moreover, from the time he cleared away ignorance and entered the Dharma, he was exceptionally distinct from ordinary men; hearing and reading sūtras and śāstras was his constant duty. Having traveled throughout the Eastern realm, drawing widely from various masters, he laid bare his heart and mind to exhaust their subtle doctrines; none failed to overturn their forest groves and renew their seats of learning for him. Thus, undeterred by tens of thousands of miles, he sought the supreme Dharma, vowing to sacrifice his bodily life and setting their meeting as his goal. Setting out from Zhangye, his route passed through Longsha. Amid the hardships and perils of the journey, body and mind were almost extinguished. Once he arrived in Gaochang, his reputation shone doubly forth; he was seen off by the sovereign of the state and fully provided with religious ceremonies. His path led through the Iron Gate and the Stone Gate; in person he traversed sandy ranges and snowy peaks. Crossing natural perils, his resolve grew all the more gallant; encountering vicious bandits, his spirit became ever more courageous. Furthermore, he returned to rely on the orthodox teachings, receiving instruction under Śīlabhadra; the principles flowed forth with his words, and their meanings never needed to be taught a second time. Having broadly heard diverse treatises, he held them all within his breast, so that the monastics of India submitted to him wholeheartedly and did not neglect his teachings. In addition, because the Awakening of Faith Treatise was composed by Aśvaghoṣa and the monks of India yearned to possess its text, Xuanzang translated it from Chinese into Sanskrit and circulated it throughout the Five Indias. This, then, was an affinity of Dharmic transformation undertaken mutually between East and West. Again, the other treatises of the Western lands profoundly value the science of grammar; Xuanzang humbled his mind to request decisions thereon, understanding as soon as instructed. This led to his having 'seven shifts in grammatical forms, initiating novel ways of expression, and thrice traversing comprehensive treatises, expanding his intellectual horizons.' Consequently, the three thousand student monks of the Apramādaka Monastery—all hailed as storehouses of wisdom and defenders of the Dharma citadel—upon witnessing his lips and mouth and hearing his phrasing and meaning, all snapped their fingers in praise, exclaiming, 'What manner of man is this!' Wherever he traveled through the one hundred and thirty states beyond the frontier and east of the sea, clergy and laity, heterodox and orthodox, who heard of his name, all looked up to his virtue, took refuge, and further revered and developed their faith. That the state gained honor, and that far-off realms came under the court's influence so that tributes arrived year after year, was entirely the merit of Xuanzang. Were he not endowed by Heaven with an extraordinary spirit, possessing innate knowledge and sage-like transmission, how could he have reinvigorated this great legacy and illuminated these surviving tracks? Among the monks who went to Tianzhu recorded in earlier and later monastic biographies, beginning with Faxian and Fayong and ending with Daosui and Daosheng, seventeen successive journeys were made midway; yet in mastering both Chinese and Sanskrit, marvelously penetrating the subtleties of language, guiding national customs, and awakening both heterodox and orthodox, none was greater than this Dharma Master. It is only regrettable that many sūtras were left untranslated. Since he had not yet reached late old age, he could fully have brought them out; that impermanence should have overtaken him so suddenly is deeply lamented! Sifen lü shanbu suiji jiemo, in one fascicle (The preface is titled Tanwude bu sifen lü shanbu suiji jiemo; see the Neidian lu). Shijia shi lüepu, in one fascicle (Sometimes without the character lüe; see the Neidian lu; completed at Ximing Temple on the eighteenth day of the ninth month of the second year of Linde). Shijia fangzhi, in two fascicles (See the Neidian lu; composed in the first year of Yonghui). Da Tang neidian lu, in ten fascicles (See the Neidian lu; composed at Ximing Temple in the first year of Linde). Ji gujin Fo-Dao lunheng, in four fascicles (See the Neidian lu; the first three fascicles were composed at Ximing Temple in the first year of Longshuo, and the fourth was composed in the first year of Linde; or in two fascicles). Dongxia sanbao gantong lu, in three fascicles (Also titled Ji Shenzhou sanbao gantong lu; see the Neidian lu; compiled at Qingguan Hermitage in the sixth month of the summer of the first year of Linde). Xu gaoseng zhuan, in thirty fascicles (See the Neidian lu). Guang hongming ji, in thirty fascicles (See the Neidian lu). The eight works above, totaling eighty-one fascicles, are all extant. Śramaṇa Shi Daoxuan, whose secular surname was Qian, was a native of Wuxing, a descendant of Pengzu. In his youth, Daoxuan examined doctrined forms; as he grew up, he yearned to seek teachers. East and west of the passes, south and north of the Yellow River, he pursued and visited worthy companions without dreading toil and hardship. Outwardly he was broad in the nine schools of thought; inwardly he was proficient in the three trainings. The fragrance of his precepts was sweet and pure, and the waters of his concentration were serene and rippling. Guarding the Dharma fortress, his writings were ceaseless. He was especially skilled in the Vinayapiṭaka, correcting and supplementing liturgical procedures, and often stayed on Mount Zhongnan to solidify his resolve. Everything he compiled circulated widely in his age. The essentials for defending the Dharma are recorded in this catalogue; other separately circulating divisions are contained in the Neidian [lu]. Only in his later years, in the Zhenguan era, did he begin compiling and writing, composing the eight works such as Sifen shanbu jiemo. In the Neidian lu there is additionally the Hou xu gaoseng zhuan in ten fascicles, but seeking its text none was found, so it is lacking here. Yiqie jing yin yi, in twenty-five fascicles (See the Neidian lu). The one work above, in twenty-five fascicles, is currently extant. Śramaṇa Shi Xuanying was a translation śramaṇa of Dacien Temple. Broadly learned and with a powerful memory, he reflected the vast standards of the literary forest; exhausting the primary and branching traditions, he mastered the interconnected forms of past and present. Thus he was able to collate origins and developments and examine chronological eras, excising the rustic plainness of primitive antiquity and trimming away the superficial clutter of degraded times. Revealing the teachings by making them accessible to the common world, he elevated praise by presenting comprehensive summaries. Truly he may be called a grand exemplar of written characters and a true mirror of spoken sounds. Because