華嚴經 品三十七 如來出現品 · 第三義 出現之語（音聲）Avataṃsaka Sūtra · The Appearance of the Tathāgata · The Third Sense: The Speech of the Appearance (the Voice)

Why Ask ‘How Should One Know the Voice of the Tathāgata’

The appearance of the Tathāgata has ten senses; the sense before this one spoke of the body, and this one speaks of the speech. Fazang points out the reason for this order very plainly: “Earlier the body is set forth, next the speech; earlier form, next sound — because such is the order of the sense.” What the eye faces is form, what the ear faces is sound; first the visible body of the Buddha is spoken of, and then the audible voice of the Buddha.

But Samantabhadra does not open with a description. He opens with a question: “Sons of the Buddha! How should a bodhisattva-mahāsattva go about knowing the voice of the Tathāgata, the Worthy One, the Perfectly Awakened One?” — the question is not ‘is the Buddha’s voice pleasant’ but ‘how are you to know it?’ This one question moves the reader out of the seat of the listener and into the seat of the observer. For the Buddha’s voice is not an object that the ear-consciousness could ever finish taking in: that sentence a sentient being hears is brought about jointly by his own faculties, his own vessel, his own wishes and delights, and the power of the Buddha’s dharma of merit. So the sūtra’s answer walks along both sides from beginning to end: on one side, ‘it reaches everywhere, it makes everyone rejoice’; on the other, ‘it has no master, it does not come forth from the body, it cannot be told.’ To hold both sides in view at once — that is what is called knowing the voice of the Tathāgata.

The First of the Ten Voices · Reaching Everywhere: Why One Sound Can Pervade

The first clause says, “the voice of the Tathāgata reaches everywhere, because it universally embraces measureless sounds of every kind.” A misunderstanding easily arises here: that “reaching everywhere” means the Buddha’s voice is very loud and carries very far. But the reason the sūtra itself gives is not volume; it is “universally embracing measureless sounds” — it contains within it measureless kinds of sound, and therefore beings of every class, human and divine, ghost and animal, each hear the speech of their own kind. Chengguan sets up two senses in explaining this clause: “First, taken with respect to the breadth of the substance: there is no sound it does not reach, and so it is said to embrace universally measureless sounds; and thus the myriad classes, human, divine, and the rest, hear alike”; “Second, each and every one of the foregoing sounds is itself able to pervade alone, as Maudgalyāyana could not find the far edge of it.” The former is pervasion in the whole; the latter goes one step further: it is not that the ten classes of sound added together pervade, but that any one of them by itself pervades. Chengguan further points out that this is what is called the sound that accords with each class. Brought down to the reading of the sūtra: do not read “pervasion” as a spatial notion; read it as ‘not one kind of capacity is left outside.’

The Second of the Ten Voices · According with What the Mind Delights In: The Dharma Is Expounded Clearly, and Therefore There Is Rejoicing

“It accords with what their minds delight in and makes them all rejoice, because it expounds the Dharma clearly.” The question to ask is: where does the rejoicing come from? The reason the sūtra gives is not that the Buddha coaxes people into being pleased; it is “expounds the Dharma clearly” — the Dharma is set out plainly, and those who hear it naturally rejoice. This clause rules out a common misreading: that to accord with sentient beings means to accommodate sentient beings. What is accorded with is “what their minds delight in” (what they like to hear, what they are concerned about); what is handed over is still the Dharma itself, and precisely because it is handed over plainly, rejoicing is born. Chengguan calls this the sound that accords with wish and delight, and says, “taking up any one class of sound, it is able, according to their wishes and delights, to expound dharmas of every kind” — first the sound is given forth according to class, then within that same class of sound dharmas of every kind are expounded according to their delight: a twofold according. He cites an earlier passage of this sūtra as attestation: “Within a single utterance the Tathāgata expounds an ocean of sūtras without bound,” and again: “With one wondrous sound the Buddha is heard throughout the lands of the ten directions. The manifold sounds are all complete in it, and the rain of Dharma fills them all.”

The Third of the Ten Voices · According with Faith and Understanding: One Sound Expounds, and Each Understands According to His Own

“It accords with their faith and understanding and makes them all rejoice, because their minds attain coolness.” Where does this differ from the clause before? The former accorded with “delight”; this one accords with “faith and understanding” — the depth or shallowness of the power to understand. In one and the same preaching, great capacities receive greatly and small capacities receive in small measure; what each understands differs, and each gains his own use of it. Chengguan says it flatly: “That is, within what has been expounded above, in the expounding of any one dharma, great and small each hear their own; hence it is said, according with their faith and understanding.” And he cites the Ratnakūṭa as attestation: “The Buddha with one sound expounds the Dharma, and sentient beings each understand according to their own.” The fruit of this clause is “their minds attain coolness” — what coolness counters is feverish distress; which is to say, understanding is itself a kind of quieting. This clause is often quoted as the standard sentence for the sense of the perfect sound, but note where it stands in the sūtra: it is only one of the ten voices, not the whole of them.

The Fourth of the Ten Voices · Never Missing the Season in Transforming Beings: No One Who Ought to Hear Fails to Hear

“It never misses the season in teaching and transforming, because there is no one who ought to hear it who fails to hear it.” The weight of this sentence falls on “season.” The delivering of sentient beings has its seasons: speak too early and there is alarm, too late and the opportunity has passed. The sūtra does not say that the Buddha can calculate the right moment; it says “there is no one who ought to hear it who fails to hear it” — of all who at this moment ought to hear, not one is left out. This shows the unerringness of the Buddha’s wisdom from the side of the result. Chengguan names it the sound that accords with the season, and says, “that is, of the great and small dharmas above, whether they hear or do not hear, all is in his sovereignty” — hearing and not hearing are alike within the Buddha’s sovereign freedom; not hearing is not a failure, it is that the season has not come. He adds a further layer: “it also takes in the difference between gladness and sorrow in hearing one and the same dharma,” citing the line from the Ratnakūṭa, “Some are afraid and some rejoice,” as attestation.

The Fifth of the Ten Voices · Neither Arising nor Ceasing: Because It Is Like an Echo

“It neither arises nor ceases, because it is like an echo.” This is the first use of a simile among the ten voices, and it is the forerunner of the second simile that comes later. Why is it said to have no arising or ceasing? Because the echo is not a thing that was already stored up inside the valley, nor is it the shout that ran into the valley and turned into something else; where the conditions are complete it is there, where they scatter it is not; to call it arising will not do, and to call it ceasing will not do either. Chengguan explains this clause as “outwardly it answers as conditions strike, while in itself there is no arising or ceasing” — someone comes and strikes from outside, and this side answers; it answers, and yet there has never been an “I” that arose. This clause first loosens the intuition that ‘the Buddha is talking’: it is not that the Buddha stirred a thought and decided to open his mouth, but that where capacity and response meet, a sound is there of itself.

The Sixth of the Ten Voices · Without a Master: Because It Arises from the Cultivation of All Deeds

“It has no master, because it arises from the cultivation of all deeds.” “No master” means there is no one presiding behind it, working it. The reason the sūtra gives repays close attention: it does not say that the voice is there out of nothing, but that it “arises from the cultivation of all deeds” — it is the fruit brought to completion by cultivation over measureless kalpas, the gathering of manifold conditions. Chengguan’s comment on this is of the utmost brevity: “Inwardly it is formed by the gathering of conditions; how should there be one presiding?” A thing formed by the gathering of manifold conditions has no owner in whom all the conditions could be summed up. This clause rules out two misunderstandings: first, that the Buddha’s voice is the Buddha’s self-expression (having a master); second, that the Buddha’s voice appears without a cause (without a cause). It is neither mastered nor uncaused — it is what the cultivated causes call forth, and it has no master. And this is exactly the sense that the first simile is going to set out at length.

The Seventh of the Ten Voices · Exceedingly Profound: Neither Side, One or Many, Can Be Made to Stand

“It is exceedingly profound, because it is hard to fathom.” This clause carries the heaviest doctrinal weight among the ten voices. Chengguan’s comment takes “exceedingly profound” apart into a dilemma: “If you would call it one, then to the myriad classes it answers differently; if you would call it different, then in substance it is one and without arising.” Say it is a single sound — yet what the myriad classes hear is not the same; say it is many sounds — yet in substance there is no arising and no duality. He takes it apart once more from another angle: “If you would call it one, within any one sound it is able to contain many sounds,” citing the line, “The dharma of the speech of all sentient beings — in a single utterance he expounds them all with nothing left over”; “if you would call it different, those many sounds above serve only to make one thing heard,” citing the simile from further on in this chapter, “It is like the heavenly drum giving forth sounds of every kind, while the slothful gods hear only the sound of impermanence that awakens them.” Neither side, one or many, can be made to stand, and so it is called exceedingly profound. Note here: exceedingly profound does not mean ‘very hard to understand’; it means ‘the frame of one-and-many does not apply at all.’

The Eighth Through Tenth of the Ten Voices · Nothing Crooked · Never Cut Off · Not Altering

For the last three clauses the sūtra gives one reason each, and Chengguan judges each with a single phrase. “Nothing crooked in it, because it is born of the Dharma realm” — Chengguan makes this “purely answering to the Dharma realm”: what is born of the Dharma realm will of course not be crooked. Crookedness means a way of expounding that does not answer to the nature of things; and since the Buddha’s voice is born of the Dharma realm, what comes out of it is the very look of the Dharma realm itself. “Never cut off, because it enters universally into the Dharma realm” — Chengguan makes this “crosswise it enters, and is not cut off”: crosswise pervasion is that there is not one place it fails to enter, and therefore there is not one moment at which it breaks off; the transforming is unbroken precisely because what it enters has nothing outside it. “Not altering, because it reaches to the ultimate” — Chengguan makes this “lengthwise it comes home to the one utmost”: lengthwise penetration is going straight through from beginning to end to the ultimate, without turning bad along the way.

For these ten voices Chengguan has one overall division: “The first four are mostly taken with respect to the function that is the substance itself; this is the sense of the perfect sound. The latter six are mostly taken with respect to the substance that is the function itself; this reveals the sense of the one sound.” The first four clauses speak of how this voice puts forth its function (pervading, according with delight, according with understanding, according with the season); the latter six speak of the substance of the voice that puts forth function (no arising or ceasing, no master, exceedingly profound, answering to the Dharma realm, uncut, coming home to the utmost). At the end he joins them in a single sentence: “These ten are perfectly interfused and of one taste; this is the Tathāgata’s perfect sound.”

The Threefold Double Negation: Why It All Has to Be Taken Back

The ten voices having been spoken, the sūtra abruptly turns: “One should know that the voice of the Tathāgata is not measured, nor measureless; not with a master, nor without a master; not showing, nor without showing.” It has just said reaching everywhere, and no master — why now deny them together?

This is the barring of clinging. The preceding ten clauses were affirmative and are easily grasped as fixed marks: hearing “measureless” one pictures an infinitely large thing; hearing “no master” one pictures that there is nothing at all. Hence the double negation. Chengguan’s explanation is matched clause for clause with great neatness: “Because no one can exhaust its far edge, it is not measured; because according to capacity and season some hear and some do not, it is not measureless; because it is the gathering of many conditions, there is no master; because it is born purely of the one Dharma realm, it is not without a master; because in its very substance there is no arising, there is nothing that shows; because it skillfully reveals the meaning and principle, it is not without showing.” Notice that in each pair he gives a reason on the affirmative and a reason on the negative — this is not vagueness; it is that each side has its own good reason, and therefore neither side may be taken alone. Chengguan says the purpose of doing so is “to reveal the middle way.”

One misunderstanding must be ruled out: the double negation is not agnosticism. The sūtra goes straight on to set the matter out perfectly clearly by means of ten similes. What the double negation denies is the fixed mark of the concept; it does not deny that the thing can be understood.

The Four Clauses on Substance and Function: Pervading Equally Without Spoiling the Tune

Beneath the double negation Chengguan further sets up four clauses making clear the unobstructedness of substance and function, and this is the passage in this unit where the eye of the Huayan house is most on display. The first clause, “taking function as following from substance”: because the substance is everywhere without exception, therefore all ten classes of sound above are able to pervade everything, “not only pervading sound, but pervading all times and places, sentient beings, tathāgatas, the Dharma realm, and the rest,” and moreover “though it pervades form and the rest alike, it is never jumbled.” The second clause, “taking substance as following from function”: “each and every sound wholly contains the true nature.” The third clause, “function is substance”: the ten classes of sound are all unobtainable, only the highest truth remains, and therefore “the conch of the Dharma sounds unceasingly, and the wondrous sound is constantly still.” The fourth clause, “substance is function”: still, and yet forever proclaiming — “like the heavenly drum that has no mind and yet answers all, like the long wind that follows the hollows and blows in ten thousand ways.”

Of the four clauses, the most essential thing is the definition he gives of the perfect sound: “If it does not pervade equally, then the sound is not perfect; if by pervading equally it loses the tune of the sound, then the perfect is not sound. Now, pervading equally without spoiling the tune, differing in melody without stirring from pervasion — this is what makes the perfect sound.” Not pervading, it is not perfect; but if for the sake of pervading the tune of the sound is flattened out, then it has become perfect and ceased to be sound. Both pervading and still each having its own tune — this is the perfect sound. From this Chengguan refutes two old readings: “So it is that the opinion that there is no sound and an echo issues as it is struck, and the opinion that there is only a single straight sound with no difference of scale or key, are alike a single mote of the great earth.”

The First Simile · The Sounds Uttered at the Kalpa’s Dissolution: How Can a Masterless Sound Deliver Anyone

For the common pattern of the ten similes, Chengguan says: “each section has three, namely the simile, the matching, and the conclusion” — first the simile is set up, then it is matched to the Dharma, then the name is concluded. The first simile takes the four sounds that come forth of themselves by the nature of things when the world is about to be destroyed: they utter the ease of the first dhyāna, the ease of the second dhyāna, the ease of the third dhyāna, the stillness of the fourth dhyāna; and sentient beings, having heard, cast off in order the body of the realm of desire and are born in the Brahmā heaven, cast off the body of the Brahmā heaven and are born in the Radiant Sound heaven, cast off the Radiant Sound body and are born in the Universally Pure heaven, cast off the Universally Pure body and are born in the Vast Fruit heaven. The sūtra makes a point of noting that “these sounds have no one directing them and no one making them; they are born solely out of the power of the manifold good deeds of sentient beings.”

Here one must ask: if there is no one directing and no one making, how does it happen to utter exactly the sequence of the four dhyānas? Chengguan’s answer is that these four sounds are not simultaneous: “The first two are the fire kalpa, when the realm of desire and the first dhyāna are about to be destroyed; the third is the water disaster, when the second dhyāna is destroyed; the fourth is the wind disaster, when the third dhyāna is about to be destroyed” — as the three disasters destroy in sequence up to a given point, the sound answers by arising accordingly. Hence “the four sounds are each distinct, and therefore they are not without arising; but they arise from conditions, and therefore they have no master.” For the words “by the nature of things” in the simile, Chengguan cites the Abhidharmakośa in explanation: “For birth in the formless realm there are two causes: first, the power of cause, that is, recent habituation and repeated habituation; second, the power of deeds, that is, the retribution to come in the higher realms, the fruit of deeds being about to arrive. For birth in the form realm there are three causes, adding the power of the nature of things, since when the vessel world is destroyed there is by the nature of things a sound.” Fazang cites the same passage and adds a further layer on sequence: “Moreover one cannot skip the order and be born in the second dhyāna and so on; one must wait until the fire reaches the first dhyāna to begin to be born in the second, and until the wind reaches the third dhyāna to begin to be born in the fourth.”

Chengguan judges which voice this simile is matched to: “The first, the simile of the sounds uttered at the kalpa’s exhaustion, figures the sixth above, having no master.”

The Matching of the First Simile · The Four Vast Sounds: How the Teaching of Five Vehicles Comes Forth All at Once

In the matching, the sūtra says that the Tathāgata, “solely out of the power of the Tathāgata’s dharma of merit, gives forth four vast sounds.” The first utters that all the formations are suffering — listing the suffering of the hells, of the animals, of the hungry ghosts, of being without merit, of clinging to self and what belongs to self, of committing evil deeds — and urges the planting of roots of goodness so as to be born among humans and gods and to be far from the difficult conditions; and sentient beings, having heard, cast off inversion and are born among humans and gods. The second utters that the formations blaze with the mass of suffering like a heated iron ball, that the formations are impermanent and dharmas that wear away, that nirvāṇa is still, unconditioned, and at ease; and sentient beings, having heard, attain within the vehicle of the hearers the forbearance that accords with the sound of the teaching. The third utters that those of the vehicle of the hearers understand only by following the words of another and their wisdom is narrow and inferior, that there is a higher vehicle named the vehicle of the pratyekabuddhas whose awakening does not depend on a teacher; and those who delight in the surpassing path, having heard, cast off the path of the hearers and cultivate the vehicle of the pratyekabuddhas. The fourth utters that beyond the standing of the two vehicles there is a more excellent path named the Great Vehicle — according with the six pāramitās, not cutting off the bodhisattva’s practice, not forsaking the mind of awakening, dwelling amid measureless birth-and-death without weariness — and lists the seven names of the Great Vehicle; and those whose faith and understanding are vast, whose faculties are keen, who planted roots of goodness in former lives, and who are sustained by the spiritual power of the tathāgatas, having heard, give rise to the mind of awakening.

A misreading must be ruled out: these four sounds are not a historical record of the Buddha preaching on four separate occasions; they are four landing-places of one and the same voice upon four kinds of capacity. Hence in the matching Chengguan uses only a single sentence: “It makes clear that when the Buddha would destroy the world of birth-and-death, he too gives forth four sounds expounding the dharma of the five vehicles.” The destruction of the world is the destruction of the vessel realm; the “destroying” of the Buddha’s voice is the destruction of the world of birth-and-death — simile and matching are aligned with great exactness. The last sentence of this section is the one most to be remembered: “The voice of the Tathāgata does not come forth from the body, nor come forth from the mind, and yet it can benefit measureless sentient beings.” Not from the body — this breaks the clinging to form and sound; not from the mind — this breaks the clinging to intention and will; and yet it benefits — this breaks the clinging to annihilation.

The Second Simile · The Echo: Able to Follow Every Speech and Yet in the End Without Discrimination

The second simile takes the echo in a mountain valley. The sūtra says it “arises because there is a valley and because there is a sound; it has no shape and cannot be seen, and it has no discrimination, and yet it is able to answer every kind of speech.” In the matching it says that the voice of the Tathāgata is “not in any direction or place, nor without direction or place; it appears solely as the wish and understanding of sentient beings furnish the condition, and its own nature, at the ultimate, is without word and without showing, beyond all telling.”

This simile treats one particular problem: if there is no discrimination, how can it answer so exactly? The echo’s reply is — precisely because it has no position of its own, whatever you say is what it answers; if it had something of its own to say, it would answer less exactly, not more. The verses put this even more plainly: “though the echo can follow the words of another, it is in the end without discrimination”; “bringing them to be tamed and to rejoice, while there arises no thought that he is now able to expound.” Because the Buddha raises no thought that ‘I am preaching the Dharma,’ the preaching is unobstructed. Chengguan judges what this simile is matched to: “The second, the simile of the echoing sound following conditions, figures the fifth above, no arising.”

The Third Simile · The Heavenly Drum: A Drum That No One Beats

The third simile takes the great Dharma drum of the gods, the drum named Awakening. When the sons of the gods are heedless, the drum of itself gives forth a sound in empty space and tells them: all pleasures of desire are impermanent, false and inverted, spoiled in a moment, merely deceiving the foolish into clinging fondly; and it admonishes them not to be heedless, for heedlessness means falling into the evil destinies with regret too late. The heedless gods, having heard, give rise to great sorrow and fear, cast off the pleasures of desire in their palaces, and go to where the king of the gods dwells to seek the Dharma and to practice. The sūtra concludes the simile: “That sound of the heavenly drum has no one directing it and no one making it, neither arises nor ceases, and yet it can benefit measureless sentient beings.”

In the matching, the Tathāgata, in order to awaken heedless sentient beings, gives forth eleven kinds of subtle sound of Dharma: the sound of being without attachment, the sound of heedfulness, the sound of impermanence, the sound of suffering, the sound of non-self, the sound of impurity, the sound of stillness and extinction, the sound of nirvāṇa, the sound of the spontaneous wisdom that has no measure, the sound of the indestructible practice of the bodhisattva, the sound of the ground of the Tathāgata’s effortless wisdom that reaches everywhere. These eleven sounds are not arranged at random. Chengguan judges that they are “divided in sense into four sections, and there are two intents”: the first way of reading is “the first two run through the five vehicles, the next six through the three vehicles, the next one through the first and second vehicles, the last two are exclusively of the Great Vehicle”; the second way of reading is “the first section is humans and gods, and the remaining three sections are matched to the three vehicles.” He lets both ways of sectioning stand without choosing between them. Sentient beings, having heard, “each within his own vehicle seeks deliverance” — some the vehicle of the hearers, some the vehicle of the pratyekabuddhas, some the bodhisattva’s unsurpassed Great Vehicle; while “the voice of the Tathāgata does not dwell in any direction or place, nor has it any speech.”

Chengguan divides this simile into three: first the power to awaken, second the benefit of the awakening, third the concluding of function back into substance; and the voice it is matched to is “the ninth, the sound never cut off, because it enters universally into the Dharma realm and the transforming is unbroken.” He further points out that “because it does not dwell in any direction and so forth, it is therefore able to pervade universally above,” citing the Sūtrālaṃkāra as attestation: “If the Buddha’s voice were a thing existent and not non-existent, it could not reach everywhere in the ten directions; because it is the reverse of this, it can.”

The Fourth Simile · The Goddess Fair-Mouth: The Hundred Thousand Sounds Within a Single Sound

The fourth simile takes the attendant maiden Fair-Mouth of the king of the gods who are free at will, who “from her mouth gives forth a single sound, and that sound answers together with a hundred thousand kinds of music, and within each kind of music there are again a hundred thousand differentiated sounds.” In the matching it says that the Tathāgata “within a single sound gives forth measureless sounds, and following the differences in what the minds of sentient beings delight in, they all reach everywhere and all bring them to understanding.”

Why set up a further simile here? The clause on “exceedingly profound” above already said that one sound contains many sounds, but that was said by way of barring; here what is wanted is to show positively that “one” is no obstacle to “many.” The sound of the maiden Fair-Mouth is not a single sound that first goes forth and then splits into a hundred thousand; that one sound itself answers together with a hundred thousand kinds of music — the one is the many, not the one turned into many. The verses put this point very crisply: “a single sound is able to give forth a hundred thousand sounds, and within each sound there are again a hundred thousand”; “a single sound gives forth all sounds, and following the differences in dispositions and wishes.” Chengguan judges the voice it is matched to: “The fourth, the simile of the goddess’s wondrous sound, figures the third, the sound according with faith and understanding, because the many sounds follow their delight.”

The Fifth Simile · The Brahmā Sound: Everyone Thinks the Buddha Is Speaking to Him Alone

The fifth simile takes the great Brahmā king dwelling in the Brahmā palace and giving forth the Brahmā sound: among the Brahmā host there is none who does not hear it, and yet the sound does not pass beyond the host, and each of them gives rise to the thought, “The great Brahmā king is speaking with me alone.” In the matching it says that the wondrous sound of the Tathāgata is likewise: among the assembly at the site of awakening there is none who does not hear it, and yet it does not pass beyond the assembly; the sūtra asks itself the question and answers it, and the reason is a single sentence: “Because those whose faculties are not yet ripe ought not to hear it.” Those who hear all give rise to the thought, “The Tathāgata, the World-Honored One, is speaking for me alone.”

The misunderstanding this simile must rule out is: that the Buddha’s voice not passing beyond the assembly means the Buddha is holding something back. But the sūtra’s reason lies not with the Buddha but with capacity — it is not that the Buddha is unwilling to speak; it is that hearing would be of no benefit to those not yet ripe. The verses make the point harder still: “moistening only the assembly and not carrying afar, because sentient beings who have no faith are not yet able to receive it.” Not able to receive is not the same as not able to hear. Chengguan judges what this simile is matched to: “The fifth, the simile of the Brahmā sound reaching the host, figures never missing the season in transforming. The ripe must hear it; that is, the ripening of the faculties is what constitutes the host.” — “the ripening of the faculties is what constitutes the host” is a phrase of the first importance: the “host” of the Dharma assembly is settled not by seating but by ripeness. At the end of this passage the sūtra concludes, “the voice of the Tathāgata neither goes forth nor stays, and yet it accomplishes every undertaking.”

The Sixth Simile · The Waters of One Taste: The Difference Is in the Vessel, Not in the Water

The sixth simile takes waters of every kind being of one and the same taste, “and it is because the vessels differ that the water comes to have differences; the water has no thinking and no discrimination.” In the matching it says that the speech and sound of the Tathāgata “has but one taste, namely the taste of liberation; following the differences in the vessel that is the mind of sentient beings, there come to be measureless differences, while there is no thinking and no discrimination.”

What this simile answers is a very practical doubt: with one and the same sūtra, why does each person read something different out of it? The sūtra’s answer is not that the Buddha said different things; it is that the vessels of mind differ. Note the three words “the taste of liberation” — for all the thousand differences in how the Buddha’s Dharma is expounded, its taste, examined to the end, is one taste only, and that is liberation. Whatever is read out of it that does not lead toward liberation is a problem of the vessel, not of the water. The verses add one detail: “the taste of the eight qualities has no difference in it, while the ground where they lie and the vessels that hold them are each unlike” — not only the vessel but also the “ground” (the ground on which the water lies), the two together accounting for where the differences come from. Chengguan judges what this simile is matched to: “The sixth, the simile of the waters of one taste, figures the sound with nothing crooked in it, born of the Dharma realm, because it is of one substance and nature.”

The Seventh Simile · The Rain That Makes Things Flourish: Not Coming Forth from Body or Mind, and Yet Enriching

The seventh simile takes the dragon king Anavatapta raising great dense clouds and raining sweet rain everywhere over Jambudvīpa, so that the hundred grains and sprouting crops all grow and the rivers, springs, and pools are all filled, while “this great rainwater does not come forth from the body or the mind of the dragon king.” In the matching it says that the Tathāgata raises the cloud of great compassion filling the worlds of the ten directions and rains down everywhere the unsurpassed sweet-dew rain of Dharma, causing sentient beings to rejoice, to increase in good dharmas, and to fulfill the vehicles; “the voice of the Tathāgata does not come from outside, nor come forth from within, and yet it can enrich all sentient beings.”

The first simile already said “not coming forth from the body, not coming forth from the mind”; why is it said again here? The difference is in the angle: the first simile said it from the side of having no master, this simile says it from the side of benefit. Chengguan’s comment supplies both the outer and the inner side: “Apart from the Buddha there is no sound, so it does not come from outside; apart from capacity there is no sound, so it does not come forth from within.” Apart from the Buddha this sound is not there, and so it cannot be said to come from outside; apart from the capacity that senses in sentient beings this sound is not there either, and so neither can it be said to come forth from the Buddha’s mind alone. Both ends fail to stand, and yet the working is plainly there. Chengguan judges the voice it is matched to as “the sound of rejoicing, because it answers to the faculties and makes them increase” — the rain answers to the nature of the root and makes it grow; the Dharma answers to the nature of the capacity and makes it rejoice.

The Eighth Simile · Raining by Degrees to Ripen Them: The Compassion of Seven Days Without Rain

The eighth simile takes the dragon king Manasvin, who, about to send down rain, does not send it at once but first raises great clouds covering empty space and gathering and staying seven days, waiting until sentient beings have finished their business; the sūtra asks itself the reason and answers, “because that great dragon king has a mind of kindness and compassion and does not wish to trouble sentient beings,” and only when the seven days have passed does he send down a fine rain moistening the whole earth. In the matching it says that when the Tathāgata is about to send down the rain of Dharma he likewise does not send it at once, but first raises the cloud of Dharma to ripen sentient beings, “so that in their minds there may be no alarm or dread,” and when they are ripe rains down the sweet-dew rain of Dharma, expounding the most profound and subtle good dharmas, “bringing them by degrees to be filled with the unsurpassed savor of the Dharma of the Tathāgata’s wisdom of all wisdoms.”

This is the simile in the whole unit that comes closest to the sequence of training. The misunderstanding to be ruled out is: that the Buddha’s not immediately expounding the most profound Dharma is a withholding. The reason the sūtra gives is alarm — the Dharma too deep and the capacity not yet ripe, and hearing it becomes an obstruction instead. Chengguan’s comment matches the passage clause by clause with great fineness: “‘About to send down the rain of Dharma’ means he intends to expound the one. ‘He does not send it down at once’ means he fears they would break the Dharma and fall into the evil destinies. ‘First he raises the cloud of Dharma’ is the expounding of skillful means. Skillful means contain what is real, as the cloud contains water.” Skillful means are not a separate apparatus set apart from the real Dharma; they are ‘the cloud that contains water’ — the real Dharma is in the skillful means from the start. He further uses the sun shining first on the high mountains, from an earlier passage of this sūtra, to set sudden and gradual side by side: “Above, the shining first on the high mountains reveals the sudden perfect; here, the small first and the great after is the gradual perfect.” Sudden and gradual are both perfect. The voice it is matched to is “the sound that does not alter, because all of it reaches to the ultimate.”

The Ninth Simile · A Downpour Beyond Thought: The Water Has No Discrimination While the Adornments Are a Hundred Thousand

The ninth simile takes the great dragon king in the ocean named Great Adornment, who in the great ocean sends down ten kinds of adorned rain, or a hundred, or a thousand, or a hundred thousand kinds; “the water has no discrimination; it is solely by the inconceivable power of the dragon king that it comes to be adorned.” In the matching it says that the Tathāgata, expounding the Dharma for sentient beings, uses ten differentiated sounds, or a hundred, or a thousand, or a hundred thousand, “or with eighty-four thousand kinds of sounds proclaims eighty-four thousand practices,” on up to expounding severally with measureless hundreds of thousands of koṭis of nayutas of sounds, causing all who hear to rejoice; while “the voice of the Tathāgata has no discrimination in it, and it is solely because the buddhas are full and pure within the most profound Dharma realm that they can follow what suits the faculties of sentient beings.”

Note where the sūtra places the cause of the differences: not in the water, not in the sound, but in the inconceivable power of the dragon king, in the fullness and purity of the buddhas within the Dharma realm. That is to say, the measureless differences of the Dharma-gates are not the Buddha raising measureless discriminating thoughts; they are that, the ground of realization being full, he can answer capacities spontaneously. The verses say it with the least effort of all: “in his mind there arises no thought of anything being different” — no thought is raised that ‘I must say it differently,’ and what is said comes out different of itself. Chengguan judges the voice it is matched to: “The ninth, the simile of the downpour beyond thought, figures the exceedingly profound sound above, for though the differences are many, they all flow from the most profound Dharma realm.”

The Tenth Simile · Raining Everywhere in Every Kind (Part One): The Dragon King’s Cloud, Lightning, Thunder, Wind, and Rain

The tenth simile is the longest. It takes the dragon king Sāgara wishing to display his great sovereign power, raising from the four continents up to the place of the heaven of those free at will over others’ emanations a great net of clouds covering all around. Chengguan judges that this simile “has in it the general, the particular, and the conclusion,” and that within the particular there are five: first cloud, second lightning, third thunder, fourth wind, fifth rain. The clouds have twelve colors and appearances (Jambū-river gold, beryl, white silver, crystal, musāragalva, agate, the excellent treasure, red pearl, measureless fragrance, the undefiled garment, pure water, adornments of every kind); the lightning then issues color from color, the golden cloud giving forth beryl light and the beryl cloud giving forth golden light, on up to “clouds of colors of every kind giving forth lightning of a single color, and clouds of a single color giving forth lightning of colors of every kind”; the thunder is then like goddesses singing, like the music of the gods, like dragon maidens singing, like gandharva maidens singing, like kiṃnara maidens singing, like the great earth quaking, like the waves and tides of the ocean waters, like the king of beasts roaring, like fine birds warbling; and when the thunder has pealed, a cool wind arises making the minds of sentient beings delight; and only then are the rains of every kind sent down.

What rains down differs in each place: in the great ocean cool water named No Cutting Off; in the heaven of those free at will over others’ emanations the sounds of flutes and pipes named Fair and Wondrous; in the Heaven of Delight in Emanations a great maṇi jewel named Giving Forth Great Light; in the Tuṣita heaven great adornments named Hanging Topknot; in the Yāma heaven great and wondrous flowers named Adornments of Every Kind; in the Heaven of the Thirty-Three manifold wondrous fragrances named Delighting the Mind; in the heaven of the four god-kings heavenly jeweled garments named Covering Over; in the palace of the dragon kings red pearls named Welling Forth Light; in the palace of the asuras weapons named Subduing the Enemy; in Uttarakuru of the north flowers named Blossoming Open; and in the remaining three continents each according to its own place. And “although the mind of that dragon king is even, without this side or that, it is solely because the roots of goodness of sentient beings differ that what rains down has differences” — the cause of the differences is stated by the sūtra itself with perfect clarity. Chengguan notes one further thing here: “This and the passage in the Chapter on the Worthy Chief are elliptical of each other.” The same set of matters is spoken of in two places in this sūtra, each at its own length.

The Tenth Simile · Raining Everywhere in Every Kind (Part Two): The Tathāgata’s Body-Cloud, Lightning, Thunder, Wind-Wheel, and Rain of Dharma

The matching too has the general, the particular, and the conclusion, and within the particular there are likewise five, answering one by one to the five matters of the simile. The clouds of the body are ten: the cloud of the birth-body, of the emanation-body, of the body of sustaining power, of the form-body, of the body of the marks and signs, of the body of merit, of the body of wisdom, of the body of powers that cannot be broken, of the body of fearlessness, of the body of the Dharma realm. Chengguan brings them together with the ten bodies of a buddha, saying that among them “there are four bodies whose names differ while the sense is the same”: the first is the body of vow, since the vow is to be born in Tuṣita; the fourth is the body born of intention, since it is born as intended and is like the form of the world; the eighth is the body of awakening, since it is complete in the buddha’s ten powers and accomplishes awakening; the ninth is majesty, since it is complete in the four fearlessnesses and can subdue what is outside — and he adds a further matching that stands alongside it: “It may also be that the ten powers subduing Māra are majesty, and fearlessness is right awakening, since it has the sense of right awakening.” The remaining six agree in name and in sense alike.

The lights and flashes of lightning are ten: Reaching Everywhere, Boundless Light, Entering the Secret Dharma of the Buddhas, Light Appearing in Reflection, Light Shining Brilliantly, Entering the Gate of the Inexhaustible Dhāraṇī, Right Mindfulness Unconfused, Ultimate and Indestructible, Entering Compliantly into the Destinies, Fulfilling Every Vow and Making All Rejoice; Chengguan matches them, saying they “do not go beyond the penetrations, the clarities, and the fearlessnesses.” The thunder of samādhi: well-awakened wisdom, the ocean of brilliance apart from defilement, sovereignty over all dharmas, the adamantine wheel, the banner of Mount Sumeru, the ocean seal, the sun-lamp, the inexhaustible treasury, the power of indestructible liberation; Chengguan explains the matching of samādhi with thunder by three senses: “First, as with the thunder of autumn the hibernating creatures hide themselves, so when one enters samādhi the evils do not act. Second, as the thunder of spring rouses the hibernating and opens the sprouts, so that samādhi gives rise to merit. Third, thunder is the forerunning sign of rain, and samādhi is the forerunning token of expounding; ponder the ten names and explain them.” The wind is the wheel of the wind of great wisdom, manifested out of the mind of great kindness and compassion in which there is no obstruction, named “Able to Make All Sentient Beings Give Rise to Inconceivable Rejoicing and Ease”; when this sign has been manifested, all the bodhisattvas and the manifold sentient beings attain coolness in body and mind; Chengguan explains, “because with the wisdom subsequently attained he observes capacities and rouses them, sustaining them so that they become vessels of the Dharma.”

The Ten Great Rains of Dharma: One Rain Falling on Ten Kinds of People

Last comes the rain. Out of the Tathāgata’s cloud of the great Dharma-body, cloud of great kindness and compassion, and cloud of the great inconceivable, there falls the inconceivable and vast rain of Dharma, making all sentient beings pure in body and mind — for the bodhisattvas seated at the site of awakening, the rain named “No Differentiation in the Dharma Realm”; for the bodhisattvas in their last body, the rain named “The Bodhisattva’s Sporting in the Tathāgata’s Secret Teaching”; for the bodhisattvas bound to one more birth, the rain named “Pure Universal Light”; for the bodhisattvas of consecration, the rain named “Adorned with the Tathāgata’s Adornments”; for the bodhisattvas who have attained forbearance, the rain named “The Flower of Wisdom, Treasure of Merit, Blossoming Open — the Bodhisattva’s Unceasing Practice of Great Compassion”; for the bodhisattvas of abiding, dedication, and practice, the rain named “Entering the Most Profound Gate of Manifest Transformation and Carrying On the Bodhisattva’s Practice Without Rest and Without Weariness”; for the bodhisattvas who have first raised the mind, the rain named “Giving Rise to the Tathāgata’s Practice of Great Kindness and Compassion, Rescuing and Protecting Sentient Beings”; for the sentient beings who seek the vehicle of the pratyekabuddhas, the rain named “Knowing Deeply the Dharma of Dependent Arising, Departing from the Two Extremes, and Attaining the Indestructible Fruit of Liberation”; for the sentient beings who seek the vehicle of the hearers, the rain named “Cutting Off Every Enemy That Is an Affliction with the Sword of Great Wisdom”; for the sentient beings who have amassed roots of goodness, settled and unsettled, the rain named “Able to Bring About the Accomplishment of Dharma-Gates of Every Kind and to Give Rise to Great Rejoicing.”

The names of the ten rains each answer to the capacity they fall upon. Chengguan explains them one by one: the first, “about to accomplish right awakening, the marks of thought being about to be exhausted, on hearing this rain of Dharma the fine thoughts are all forgotten,” hence it is said, expounding that there is no differentiation in the Dharma realm; the second is “after leaving the womb and before sitting at the site of awakening,” and in explaining “sporting” he gives two senses, taken apart and taken together — taken apart, sporting is the great function of the spiritual penetrations and the secret teaching is what the mind and wisdom accord with; taken together, it makes one free to come and go within the secret teaching; the third, bound to one more birth, is “as with Maitreya, who takes birth below once more,” and the reason for the one further birth is that “subtle ignorance is able to obstruct the knowable” — these first three are all the position of virtual awakening. The fourth, the bodhisattvas of consecration, is “the position of receiving office on the ten grounds, where the buddhas of the ten directions consecrate one with the water of the Dharma, and one falls within the number of the buddhas.” For the fifth, the bodhisattvas who have attained forbearance, he gives two ways of taking it: if purity of forbearance is taken, it is the eighth ground and above; if first attainment is taken, then “some say that it is attained on the first ground.” The sixth, abiding, dedication, and practice, is “the three worthy positions.” The seventh, first raising the mind, “takes in both the first raising of the mind in faith and the raising of the mind at the fullness of faith.” On the eighth and ninth gates Chengguan says there are “two intents throughout”: one taken with respect to the open expounding for those first seeking, which speaks of their own vehicle; the other taken with respect to the secret expounding for those already abiding, which secretly confers the Great Vehicle — for the gate of the pratyekabuddhas, the open expounding is that the cause perishes so it is not permanent and the fruit continues so it is not annihilated, thereby departing from the two extremes, while the secret expounding is that “the twelvefold dependent arising is itself the middle way, and the middle way is named the buddha-nature”; for the gate of the hearers, the open expounding is cutting off with the sword of the wisdom of the emptiness of persons, while the secret expounding is that “one should cut off every delusion with the emptiness of dharmas, and hence it is named the great sword.” The tenth is “for the two groups of sentient beings”: those wrongly settled are not yet able to bear the rain of Dharma; the unsettled are brought to attain what is called ripening; the already settled are made to increase in Dharma-gates of every kind.

At the end of the section the sūtra draws itself up: “The mind of the Tathāgata, the Worthy One, the Perfectly Awakened One is even, and toward the Dharma he is not grudging; it is solely because the faculties and the wishes of sentient beings differ that the rain of Dharma sent down shows differences.” This answers exactly to the simile’s “the mind of that dragon king is even, without this side or that.”

The General Conclusion in Ten Measurelessnesses: Taking Ten Measureless Things to Measure With

The ten similes being finished, the sūtra concludes generally with “one should know that the voice of the Tathāgata has ten kinds of measurelessness”: measureless as the realm of empty space, because it reaches everywhere; measureless as the Dharma realm, because there is nowhere it does not pervade; measureless as the realm of sentient beings, because it makes every mind rejoice; measureless as the deeds, because it proclaims their fruits and retributions; measureless as the afflictions, because it makes them all be removed; measureless as the speech and sounds of sentient beings, because it makes them hear according to their understanding; measureless as the wishes and understandings of sentient beings, because it observes them universally and delivers them; measureless as the three times, because it has no bounds; measureless as wisdom, because it discriminates everything; measureless as the realm of the buddhas, because it enters the Dharma realm of the buddhas.

The construction of these ten clauses repays attention: each is ‘measureless as such-and-such’ plus a “because.” That is, it does not say directly that the Buddha’s voice is measureless; it takes ten already known measureless things and matches them against it, giving for each the reason why. The first three take the realms pervaded (space, the Dharma realm, the realm of sentient beings); the middle four take the matters countered and accorded with (deeds, afflictions, speech and sounds, wishes and understandings); the last three take the measures penetrated (the three times, wisdom, the realm of the buddhas). Chengguan judges only with a single sentence: “The third, from ‘furthermore, Sons of the Buddha, one should know’ onward, generally concludes that the ten similes are all without measure; the text is plain and can be known.” Fazang says it in more detail: “The ten measurelessnesses each generally conclude the ten sounds above” — the ten measurelessnesses are not ten further matters set up separately; they turn back and conclude each of the ten voices once more. The sūtra draws to a close with “the voice of the Tathāgata, the Worthy One, the Perfectly Awakened One accomplishes asaṃkhyeyas of measurelessnesses such as these; the bodhisattva-mahāsattvas should know it in this way,” answering the question raised at the opening.

The Twenty Verses in Repetition: The Verses Only Match Position, They Do Not Teach Again

The prose being finished, the compilers narrate: “At that time the bodhisattva-mahāsattva Samantabhadra, wishing to make this meaning clear once more, spoke in verse, saying.” The verses give two stanzas to each of the ten similes, the former stanza singing the simile and the latter the matching, and the order is exactly that of the prose: the sounds at the kalpa’s dissolution answered by “so too the World-Honored One of the ten powers”; the echo by “so too are the speech and sounds of the buddha of the ten powers”; the heavenly drum by “so too is the Dharma drum of the buddha of the ten powers”; Fair-Mouth by “so too is the voice of the Well-Gone One”; the Brahmā king by “so too is the buddha of the ten powers, this Brahmā king”; the waters by “so too is the voice of all-wisdom”; the Heatless Dragon King by “so too are the wondrous sounds of the buddhas”; Manasvin by “so too does the buddha of the ten powers expound the meaning”; the Great Adornment dragon by “so too is the ultimate eloquence of the Buddha”; Sāgara by “so too are the buddhas, the kings of the Dharma.”

The verses do not repeat what the prose has already taught; they only add an eye-opening word or two where they match position. Four places are worth remembering: in the verse of the echo, “there arises no thought that he is now able to expound,” which brings “no discrimination” down onto the mind of the Buddha; in the verse of the Brahmā king, “because sentient beings who have no faith are not yet able to receive it,” which restates the reason for “not passing beyond the assembly” from “the faculties not being ripe” as “having no faith”; in the verse of the waters, “the taste of the eight qualities has no difference in it, while the ground where they lie and the vessels that hold them are each unlike,” which adds the “ground” alongside the vessel; and in the verse of the Great Adornment dragon, “in his mind there arises no thought of anything being different,” which seals with the prose’s “has no discrimination.” The last stanza — “so too are the buddhas, the kings of the Dharma: the body-cloud of great compassion fills the ten directions, and for those of every kind of practice what rains down is each different, while toward all of it there is no discrimination” — the whole unit begins at “how should one know” and ends at “no discrimination,” and beginning and end are one and the same matter.

Lineage

For the sense of the speech-deed in this unit, the ancient worthies carry it forward along three tracks, all of which are set down here without any judging between them.

Chengguan’s Commentary, following the eighty-fascicle text, sets up the ten voices (pervading everywhere · according with wish and delight · according with the understanding of the faculties · according with the season · no arising or ceasing · no master · exceedingly profound · answering to the Dharma realm · uncut · coming home to the one utmost), opens the matter with the four gates of the perfect sound, completes it with the four clauses of substance and function, and matches the ten voices simile by simile. Fazang’s Tanxuan ji, following the sixty-fascicle text, sets up the ten voices (breadth of substance · wonder of virtue · gladdening of capacity · expounding of Dharma · awakening · answering to the season · increase of moral discipline · increase of concentration · increase of wisdom · answering to the nature), judges the passage by ‘first the general summary expounding of ten, second the particular extended distinguishing of ten, third the general conclusion by ten gates,’ so that a hundred gates and a thousand gates come of the multiplication, and at the end of the section gathers it all up with “thus by mutual multiplication a full thousand gates of distinguishing the voice are complete.” Li Tongxuan’s Xin Huayan jing lun, at this passage, does not set out the nine gates one by one, but with the single phrase “these measureless dharmas of the appearance of the Tathāgata set out above, each dharma having ten similes, are fully made clear in the sūtra” leaves the reader to return to the text of the sūtra itself. The text followed differs, the headings set up differ, and the manner of fullness or brevity differs as well: the three tracks run side by side.

The variant readings between the two translations also bear in places upon the doctrine of this unit. In the third of the double negations, the eighty-fascicle text has “not showing, not without showing,” while the sixty-fascicle text has “not knowing, not without knowing”; Chengguan, following the former, explains it by what shows and what is shown, while Fazang, following the latter, explains it as “measure is taken with respect to bounds, master with respect to the substance and nature, knowing with respect to the working of the deed.” In the matching of the ten rains of Dharma to the positions, Chengguan makes the bodhisattvas of consecration the position of receiving office on the ten grounds, and for the bodhisattvas who have attained forbearance takes purity of forbearance as the eighth ground and above, or first attainment as the first ground; Fazang makes those who have received the prediction the eighth ground, those who have attained forbearance the first ground through the seventh, and those who have first raised the mind the beginning of the position of the ten abodes. As for the number of the verses in repetition, the eighty-fascicle text has twenty stanzas, while Fazang, explaining the sixty-fascicle text, says “forty stanzas,” “four to each.” All of these are settled sayings of the ancient worthies; they are set down and not judged between.

Of the carrying forward of the doctrine of the Huayan house, the most direct strand is the “perfect sound.” Chengguan’s phrase “pervading equally without spoiling the tune, differing in melody without stirring from pervasion — this is what makes the perfect sound” is where later talk of the mutual identity of one and many, and of one sound expounding the Dharma, has both its scriptural ground and its ground in explanation; while the sixth simile’s “it has but one taste, namely the taste of liberation,” together with the verse “the nature of the Dharma has but one taste, without discrimination, while following the differences in the conduct of sentient beings,” is the settled sentence of the Dharma-gate of nature-origination on the side of the speech-deed.