華嚴經 品三十九 入法界品 · 勝熱婆羅門（寄王子住）Avataṃsaka Sūtra · Entering the Dharma Realm · The Brahmin Victorious Heat (Assigned to the Abode of the Prince)

Before Entering the Door: What Sudhana Brought with Him When He Came Here

Sudhana did not come to Victorious Heat empty-handed. The sūtra text first spends one long stretch setting out what he obtained at the place of the previous good friend: “At that time, the youth Sudhana, because he was illumined by the bodhisattva liberation of the Unsurpassed Banner,” and then it lists what he abided in, what he realized, and what he obtained—he abided in the inconceivable spiritual power of all the Buddhas, realized the bodhisattva's inconceivable knowledge of liberation and of spiritual penetration, and obtained three lights of the knowledge of samādhi, and further obtained one ‘surpassing light of knowledge that illumines and sees all the worlds’—the first three are all tied to samādhi, and the last is not tied to samādhi but tied to the illumining and seeing of the world.

One question has to be asked: since he has already obtained so much, why must he go on visiting? The answer is in the latter half of the stretch. The first half is ‘the benefit of one's own portion,’ where what this one has obtained has already been made steady; the latter half, from “he sought all-knowledge and never retrogressed, he obtained the light of the wisdom of the ten powers” onward, turns into ‘the benefit of surpassing advance,’ and tells of that force within his mind which still wants to go higher, and which has not stopped. To obtain more and more and yet to have the mind that seeks the path retrogress less and less—this is what makes a person able to visit again.

What this long stretch lists does not stop at samādhis. The sūtra text goes on to set out, item by item, what he has come to stand upon: “in all places he manifested his own body”—what he manifests is not confined to one quarter; “with ultimate knowledge he expounded the equal Dharma that has no duality and no discrimination”—what he expounds falls into neither of the two extremes and raises no discrimination; “whatever Dharma he heard he was able to bear up under, his faith and understanding pure”—what he hears he can bear, and his faith and understanding are unmixed; “as to the own-nature of dharmas he was decided and plain”—about the own-nature of dharmas he wavers no longer; “in his mind he constantly did not let go of the wondrous practice of a bodhisattva”—what he practices is not broken off midway; “he brought forth the measureless adornments of a bodhisattva, and his boundless great vows were all of them already pure”—his vows are boundless and already free of admixture; “with a mind not in the least faint-hearted he delivered the measureless ocean of beings”—his mind for delivering beings is neither timid nor weak. Manifesting the body · expounding the Dharma · receiving the Dharma · being plain about principle · the wondrous practice · the great vows · delivering beings: seven matters following one upon another; and among them two sentences matter most—“diligently sought the wondrous Dharma, ever without weariness” and “by right cultivation entered the realm of the Buddhas”: much as has been obtained, the seeking of the Dharma does not tire; the seeking does not stop at hearing but enters by right cultivation; and what is entered is the realm of a Buddha, while the sentence “with bright and pure knowledge universally illumined the realms” tells that the knowledge by which the realm is entered is bright and pure, illumining everywhere without partiality. What is obtained and what is sought, what is heard and what is practiced, what is practiced and what is entered—three pairs joined one to the next are the direction of this whole long stretch, and what they tell is how all that has been obtained comes down upon actual things—they are not seven titles, but one person who has already found his footing in seven places.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that one visits and studies because one is lacking, and so once one has visited to the point of fullness one stops. The sequence the sūtra text sets out is exactly the reverse—what has been obtained is made steady first, and only then does the mind of surpassing advance have somewhere to be used. Brought down to the ground: to check whether you can go further forward, do not look at how much you have understood; look at whether that “never retrogressed” is still there.

From What Is Known to Being Mindful of the Good Friend: Where the Long Stretch of Parallel Sentences Comes to Rest

What comes next is a whole stretch of parallel sentences from “with knowledge that is inexhaustible and without end he knew the boundless net of worlds” onward: knowing the various differences, adornments, minutely fine realms, names, and sayings of boundless worlds, and seeing the various understandings, the various practices, the ripening practices, and the differing thoughts of boundless beings. Twelve clauses run on in a row, eleven of which speak by way of “boundless,” only one reading “with a mind not in the least faint-hearted he delivered the measureless ocean of beings.”

It has to be asked: this long string of what is known and what is seen—which sentence does it come to rest upon at the last? It comes to rest upon four characters—“he was mindful of the good friend.”

This is a way of putting sentences that appears again and again in this chapter: however vast the realms illumined and seen may be, at the end it must be drawn back to being mindful of the good friend. So this stretch of parallel sentences is not a boasting of achievement; it is a laying of ground—precisely because what is seen is boundless, he knows all the better that he cannot go on by himself, and that he still needs someone to point out the road. Set aside a misreading: the notion that once the realm has opened out one need no longer rely on a teacher. The sūtra text places “he was mindful of the good friend” after the boundless, and its intent lies exactly here. Brought down to the ground: the wider what you see, the more you must remember where the next one is.

What Was Seen at the Village of Yishana: Masses of Fire on Four Sides, and Within Them a Mountain of Knives

Sudhana “journeying on in due order, came to the village of Yishana, and saw that Victorious Heat cultivating every sort of ascetic practice, seeking all-knowledge.” Of the marks he saw, the sūtra text gives only two sentences: “on all four sides were masses of fire, like a great mountain; within the fire was a mountain of knives, so high that it had no end,” and then, “he climbed up upon that mountain and cast his body into the fire.”

Here a distinction must first be set up. The sūtra text says four sides, and Chengguan glosses this saying, “add further the sun overhead, and it is the scorching of the body with the five heats. That here it says only four is because the four propositions of wisdom all burn up the firewood of delusion”—the scorching of the body with the five heats was one of the ascetic practices of the non-Buddhist ways of that time, the fire on the four sides plus the sun overhead making five; but the sūtra text says only four sides, and Chengguan reads this ‘one less’ as signifying the four propositions of wisdom. That is to say, what the sūtra text writes is the mark of a non-Buddhist ascetic practice, and what the ancient worthy reads out of it is the shape of a dharma gate.

Chengguan here further sets up four senses upon the fire alone: “further, fire has four senses: one, it burns the firewood of the afflictions; two, it breaks the darkness of ignorance; three, it ripens the roots of goodness; four, it illumines and manifests the realizing of principle”—fire does not stop at burning. The first burns the firewood of the afflictions, taking away what has been piled up; the second breaks the darkness of ignorance, taking away what has been screened off; the third ripens the roots of goodness, growing what is there; the fourth illumines and manifests the realizing of principle, displaying what is realized. Of the four senses the first two are a removing and the latter two a completing; and the removing and the completing are not two fires but four uses of one and the same fire. So the mass of fire before Sudhana's eyes, as the ancient worthy reads it, is not an instrument of suffering but the four uses of knowledge appearing together in one mark—if the reader sees only the burning, he has seen only a quarter of it.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this stretch is praising ascetic practice. From beginning to end the sūtra text never exhorts Sudhana to cultivate ascetic practice; what it exhorts is the one thing of climbing the mountain and casting himself into the fire, and the text below says plainly that what he obtained after climbing was samādhi, not the retribution of suffering. Brought down to the ground: when you see a mark, do not be in a hurry to judge it the path or not the path; look at where it leads.

Sudhana's Question: One Sentence Asked from the First Good Friend to the Fifty-Third

Sudhana “bowed to the feet of that one, joined his palms and stood,” and then asked: “Holy one! I have already given rise, before this, to the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi, yet I still do not know: how is a bodhisattva to study the practice that a bodhisattva practices? How is he to cultivate the path that a bodhisattva cultivates? I have heard that the holy one is skilled at instructing and drawing others on; I pray that you will expound it for me!”

This sentence of asking is repeated almost word for word before every good friend in this chapter. It has to be asked: since he asks the same sentence every time, why must he ask every time?

Because what is asked is one and the same thing, while what is answered is fifty-three kinds. The sentence of asking does not change, and this displays precisely that visiting and studying is not a changing of the topic, but one and the same topic opening out into different gates upon different persons. Set aside a misreading: the notion that the newer the question the better. What the sūtra text demonstrates is a way of asking one question through to the bottom. Brought down to the ground: the question a student ought truly to hold fast to is usually only one; what changes is the person who answers it.

Showing the Dharma and Exhorting to Cultivation: One Sentence Pushes a Man into the Fire

The brahmin's answer is only one sentence: “Son of good family! If you are now able to climb this mountain of knives and cast your body into the mass of fire, the practices of the bodhisattvas will all of them be made pure.”

There is no laying of ground, no comforting, and no explaining of why. It has to be asked: to answer in this way—does it count as having answered?

Chengguan glosses this saying, “the reason he must be made to enter is to break his mind of views, and to make him understand the deep and secret dharma of a bodhisattva”—what is to be broken is ‘the mind of views,’ that is, the whole set of preconceptions within Sudhana's mind about what looks like the path and what does not look like the path. If this set is not broken, he will not be able to take in the dharma gates that follow. Chengguan further says, “what accords with the ordinary marks is easy to understand, what runs against them is hard to know”—marks that follow along with common feeling are easy to understand, and marks that run against common feeling are hard to understand, and so this chapter arranges for Victorious Heat to display the marks of wrong views, for King Insatiable to display the marks of anger, and for the woman Vasumitrā to display the marks of greed.

Chengguan here further opens out five senses, telling why the marks of the three poisons and the right Dharma stand together, and the line drawn between the first four senses and the fifth is drawn very strictly. The first is “one, the mark just as it is, is empty, and being empty it is the path; this does not mean that these three are simply the Buddha-dharma”—it is upon emptiness that it is said to be the path, and having said it he at once limits himself, not allowing it to be read as though the three poisons themselves were the Buddha-dharma. The second is “two, it is in terms of the illusory functioning by which beings are gathered in—yet it is not simply identical”—it is said in terms of a bodhisattva's illusory display of his functioning to gather beings in. The third is “three, using the mind within delusion in the manner of the common run of the world—this, in the contemplation of mind, is the path; yet it is not simply the path”—one and the same using of the mind becomes delusion when it follows the common run, and is the path in the contemplation of mind. The fourth is “four, retaining delusion so as to moisten birth and to grow the bodhisattva path—yet it is not simply identical”—delusion is retained so as to moisten birth and grow the bodhisattva path. Each of the first four senses holds down a sentence of its own that forbids a plain equating; and only at the last does the fifth sense turn: “five, the mark just as it is, is the path—unlike the four before, because it is inconceivable.” The line lies just here, and the Chao states it positively: the fifth is the path “because it is the substance of the path, because the principle has no second savor, because there is not one dharma that is not the Buddha-dharma”; as for “because it is inconceivable,” that is “a praise in terms of the general mark,” and “one may not think of it in the manner of desire and the rest.” The Chao further marks of itself the difference between what the first sense and the fifth take: “before, it was once used to take the emptiness of the nature of desire, and that used the first sense; now it takes it as being the path itself”—each of the first four gets through upon one principle of its own, while the fifth takes the thing directly as the substance of the path and no longer borrows a principle to get through by.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a good friend must have a kindly face and a gentle manner. The good friend here in the sūtra text opens his mouth and it is a sheer cliff. Brought down to the ground: what really stops a person is mostly not a failure to understand the principle; it is that the mind has drawn out in advance what the principle ought to look like.

Doubting and Shrinking Back, Not Accepting (one): Twelve “Hards”

Sudhana did not agree at once. Within his mind a string of thoughts first arose: “To obtain a human body is hard; to leave the difficulties behind is hard; to obtain the state in which there is no difficulty is hard; to obtain the pure Dharma is hard; to get to meet a Buddha is hard,” and below that further: to be complete in the faculties is hard, to hear the Buddha's Dharma is hard, to meet with a good person is hard, to come upon a true good friend is hard, to receive the right teaching that accords with principle is hard, to obtain right livelihood is hard, to practice in accord with the Dharma is hard—twelve sentences in all.

It has to be asked: why does he think of these?

Chengguan glosses this saying, “it is not that he grudges body and life; he fears losing the conditions of the path. It shows that his knowledge is not yet deep, and so this thought arises”—what he fears is not dying, but that once these twelve things hard to come by are destroyed in this one leap, they can never be joined up again. A human body is hard to obtain, meeting a Buddha is hard, coming upon a true good friend is hard—these are all conditions of the path. So his hesitation is not a coveting of life; it is a cherishing of the path.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that all hesitation is faint-heartedness. That the sūtra text lists the twelve hard things so plainly is precisely to make the reader see the weight of this hesitation. Brought down to the ground: to be able to count out what you fear losing is a kind of clear-headedness; but clear-headedness is not yet the same as being able to pass the gate.

Doubting and Shrinking Back, Not Accepting (two): Suspecting That the Good Friend May Be a Māra

After the twelve hards, the thought turns into an outright doubt: “Could this one not be a Māra, or one sent by Māra?”—he suspects that the one before him may be a Māra, or one Māra has sent; he wonders whether this is an “evil and dangerous partisan of Māra, falsely displaying the marks of a bodhisattva good friend,” wishing to make for him a difficulty as to his roots of goodness and a difficulty as to his life span, to obstruct his cultivating of the path of all-knowledge, to draw him into the evil destinies, to obstruct his dharma gate and to obstruct his Buddha-dharma.

It has to be asked: is Sudhana's doubting right or wrong?

The sūtra text does not rebuke this thought. Chengguan glosses this saying, “the doubt above was for the sake of sorting out the true from the false”—giving rise to doubt is in itself for the sake of sorting out true from false, and this step stands up in principle. The real problem does not lie in the doubting; it lies in what one does after the doubt: whether to walk away at that point, or to leave the doubt standing there and wait for it to be resolved.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that to doubt a good friend is a sin. It is true that afterward the sūtra text has Sudhana ask to repent, but Chengguan further says, “if that is so, why does the doubt arise? It is for the sake of displaying the Dharma … and further it is a rule for later ages, so as to make them examine carefully”—this stretch of doubt was written into the sūtra in order to set up a rule of careful examination for later ages. Brought down to the ground: you may examine carefully; you may not draw your own conclusion and leave.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (one): Why Ten Thousand Brahmā Gods Come Out First

No sooner had the thought of doubt arisen than ten thousand Brahmā gods gave voice in the midst of empty space: “Son of good family! Do not give rise to this thought! Do not give rise to this thought!” They first stop Sudhana's thought, and then tell the reason of Victorious Heat: “This holy one has now obtained the light of the samādhi of the vajra flame; he has given rise to great vigor, delivers beings, and his mind does not retrogress,” and below that are seven “would”s—he would dry up the ocean of craving, would cut through the net of wrong views, would burn up the firewood of afflictions, would illumine the dense thicket of delusion, would sever the dread of old age and death, would destroy the obstructions of the three times, would send forth the light of dharmas.

It has to be asked: why is it the Brahmā gods who come out first?

Chengguan glosses this saying, “the first are the Brahmā gods of the realm of form, mostly of the first dhyāna”; and he further says, “the Brahmā king is born first, and the rest of the host are thought of and born afterward, and so wrong views arise.” The reason the Brahmā gods are the most fitting to open is that they are precisely the sort most liable to give rise to the view ‘I am the sovereign one, I am the one who is able to make.’ The sūtra text then has them say it themselves: “We Brahmā gods are for the most part attached to wrong views, and all of us hold ourselves to be the sovereign one and the one who is able to make, and hold that in the midst of the world I am the most surpassing”—and the fire of Victorious Heat is exactly what burns this view.

The benefit the Brahmā gods set out for themselves the sūtra text likewise lists item by item. The brahmin “by his spiritual power displayed great ascetic practice and expounded the Dharma for us,” and what he thereby brought them to was “to extinguish all views, to remove all arrogance, to abide in great kindness, to practice great compassion, to raise a vast and great mind, to give rise to the intent upon awakening, constantly to see all the Buddhas, ever to hear the wondrous Dharma, and in all places to have minds without obstruction.” The order of these nine items goes from breaking down to setting up: first the extinguishing of all views and the removing of all arrogance, taking away what they cling to—and what the Brahmā gods cling to is precisely that holding of themselves to be “the sovereign one,” with its view and its arrogance; next abiding in great kindness, practicing great compassion, raising a vast and great mind, and giving rise to the intent upon awakening, which set up what they are to practice upon the place so cleared, kindness and compassion being the measure of the mind and the vast mind and the intent upon awakening being what it is turned toward; and at the last, constantly seeing all the Buddhas, ever hearing the wondrous Dharma, and having minds without obstruction in all places, which is that, once set up, it no longer retrogresses and is no longer obstructed. It has to be asked: why must the extinguishing of views and the removing of arrogance stand first? Because kindness and compassion, laid upon that mind which holds itself to be “the one who is able to make,” only become a larger self; if view and arrogance are not taken away, the seven items that follow will all be taken over by them.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that these gods are bystanders come to give corroborating evidence. They are beneficiaries come to teach by their own persons. Brought down to the ground: the most forceful testimony for breaking a wrong view comes from the one who was once most attached to that view.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (two): The Māras Say Their Palaces Are like a Heap of Ink

The second host is ten thousand Māras. They scatter heavenly maṇi jewels upon the brahmin's body, and then say: “the light of that fire outshone and took away all the various adornments of my palaces, so that they were all like a heap of ink,” and for this reason it “made me no longer give rise to delight and clinging toward them,” and so they came together with their retinues, and after hearing the Dharma “all obtained non-retrogression in anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi.”

It has to be asked: how can Māras come to praise him?

This is exactly what is most worth turning over in this stretch. What Sudhana doubts is a Māra, and the second to come out and bear witness is precisely a Māra—and a Māra who has been delivered at that. The sūtra text answers Sudhana's doubt by this very sequence: you fear that he is a Māra, but a Māra is here saying that he was delivered by him.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that Māra and the path are two sides that have nothing to do with each other. What the sūtra text says here is that it is one and the same mass of fire—shining upon the palaces it takes away their light, shining upon the mind it cuts off its clinging. Brought down to the ground: what makes a person no longer covet his possessions is usually not the setting out of reasons, but the appearing of something brighter.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (three): The Eightfold Sovereignty of the Kings of the Sovereign Gods

The third host is ten thousand kings of the Sovereign Gods, who each scatter heavenly flowers and speak. The benefit they set out is a string of “and obtained sovereignty”: sovereignty over the mind, sovereignty in the midst of the afflictions, sovereignty in the midst of taking birth, sovereignty over the various obstructions of karma, sovereignty over the various samādhis, sovereignty over the adornments, sovereignty in the midst of the life span, and “even to obtain sovereignty over all the Buddha-dharmas.”

It has to be asked: why does this string begin from the mind and stop at the Buddha-dharmas?

Because what the kings of the Sovereign Gods are attached to is precisely the word ‘sovereign.’ The sovereignty they originally took it to be was a freedom in the objective realm—palaces, adornments, life span, and the like; the sūtra text lets them speak on down the line, and moves sovereignty from the outer realm to the mind, the afflictions, taking birth, and the obstructions of karma, and at the last it comes to rest upon the Buddha-dharmas. The word is the same, and its content has been exchanged.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that sovereignty means having whatever one wants. The sovereignties this stretch lists are, in their first several items, all sovereignty obtained in places where one is not one's own master—afflictions, taking birth, obstructions of karma; not one of them is a thing one may pick and choose. Brought down to the ground: only when you can loosen up in the place where you cannot choose is it called sovereignty.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (four): The Kings of the Gods Who Delight in Emanations, from Suppleness of Body and Mind to the Body and Speech of a Buddha

The fourth host is ten thousand kings of the Gods Who Delight in Emanations, who make heavenly music as their offering. They say that the light of the fire shone upon their palaces, adornments, and courtesans, and “was able to make us no longer receive the pleasures of desire and no longer seek the pleasures of desire, and our bodies and minds became supple,” and so they came together to hear the Dharma; and what they obtained was that their minds obtained purity, brightness and cleanness, unmixed goodness, and suppleness, and gave rise to joy, all the way to “even to make us obtain the body of a Buddha, the speech of a Buddha, the voice of a Buddha, and the mind of a Buddha, and be complete in and accomplish the knowledge of all-knowledge.”

It has to be asked: from “bodies and minds became supple” to “the mind of a Buddha”—is the jump in between not too fast?

There is no jump. What the sūtra text lists is a line running from the coarse to the fine: first not receiving the pleasures of desire (a stopping in conduct), then suppleness of body and mind (a loosening in condition), then the mind obtaining purity, brightness and cleanness, unmixed goodness and suppleness (a purifying in the ground of the mind), and only at the last the body, speech, voice, and mind of a Buddha. The Gods Who Delight in Emanations are the sort who take emanation as their delight, and so their first gate is exactly at “no longer seek the pleasures of desire.”

And between the purifying of the ground of the mind and the body and speech of a Buddha there are two further items that may not be passed over. The sūtra text reads “even to make us obtain the pure body of the pure ten powers, and to bring forth measureless bodies”: the one is the obtaining of the pure body accomplished by the pure ten powers, and the other is the bringing forth of measureless bodies out of that body. It has to be asked: why is the body of the ten powers spoken of first, then the measureless bodies, and only then the body and speech of a Buddha? Because the ten powers are the power and functioning of a Buddha, and only when there is a body accomplished by that power can one speak of its being called the body of a Buddha; and only when one body can bring forth measureless bodies can one speak of answering everywhere without a fixed quarter. Were these two items skipped, the gap between the earlier “bodies and minds became supple” and the later “the body of a Buddha, the speech of a Buddha” would truly be broken—the line running from the coarse to the fine is caught and held precisely upon these two.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that cultivation starts from a high place. This stretch starts from a ‘no longer wanting.’ Brought down to the ground: suppleness is not a cultivated refinement; it is the condition that appears of itself once the pleasures of desire have been set down.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (five): The Few Desires and Contentment of the Kings of the Tuṣita Gods

The fifth host is ten thousand kings of the Tuṣita gods, with the sons of gods, the daughters of gods, and a measureless retinue, who rain down the various wondrous fragrances and revere him and bow their heads. They say that the light of the fire made them “have no more delight and clinging toward our own palaces,” and after coming together to hear the Dharma it “was able to make us not covet objective realms, to have few desires and know contentment, to have our minds give rise to joy, to have our minds obtain fullness, to bring forth the various roots of goodness, to give rise to the mind of awakening, and even to fulfill all the Buddha-dharmas.”

It has to be asked: how does so ordinary a sentence as ‘few desires and knowing contentment’ come out of the mouths of the kings of gods?

It carries weight precisely because it comes out of the mouths of kings of gods. The sūtra text itself gives the answer: what they cast off is “no more delight and clinging toward our own palaces,” and what they obtain is “not to covet objective realms, to have few desires and know contentment”—what is being treated is not a lack, but the still clinging when there are palaces to cling to. The name of the Tuṣita heaven is rendered in Chinese precisely as ‘knowing contentment’; that the sentence about few desires and knowing contentment comes out of the mouth of this heaven's kings answers exactly to the name of their heaven. The sūtra text then places “their minds give rise to joy, their minds obtain fullness” after few desires and knowing contentment, and the sequence is plain: it is not that one is full first and content afterward, but content first and full afterward.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that contentment comes of not being able to get things. This stretch is a knowing of contentment after having got everything. Brought down to the ground: the sense of fullness is never something added on; it is something subtracted out.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (six): What the Thirty-Three Gods Hear Is Impermanence

The sixth host is ten thousand Thirty-Three Gods together with their retinues, who rain down heavenly mandārava flowers as their offering. They say that the light of the fire made them “give rise no more to delight and clinging toward heavenly music,” and so they came together; and what the brahmin expounded for them was “all dharmas are impermanent and come to ruin,” making them cast away and leave behind all the pleasures of desire, cut off arrogance and heedlessness, and love and delight in unsurpassed awakening. At the end there is one further sentence that the other hosts do not have: “At the time when I saw this brahmin, the summit of Mount Sumeru quaked in six ways, and our minds gave rise to terror, and we all gave rise to the mind of awakening, firm and unmoving.”

It has to be asked: why is it to this host alone that impermanence is expounded?

The sūtra text says that what they cast off is “delight and clinging toward heavenly music,” and the dharma expounded is “all dharmas are impermanent and come to ruin”—what they are attached to are the instruments of pleasure of the heavens, and so the dharma that treats it lies in the words ‘come to ruin.’ And the quaking in six ways of the last sentence is precisely the mountain they rest upon moving of itself before their eyes—once what one rests upon moves, the telling of impermanence is no longer words.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that terror is a bad thing. This stretch says “our minds gave rise to terror, and we all gave rise to the mind of awakening, firm and unmoving”—what follows the terror is not a retreat, but firmness. Brought down to the ground: a single shake of the thing you rest upon is sometimes the most direct lesson there is.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (seven): The Nāga Kings Leave the Dread of the Burning Sand and the Dread of the Golden-Winged Bird

The seventh host is ten thousand nāga kings, whom the sūtra text names in full as “the nāga king Yinabaluo, the nāga king Nantuo-Youbonantuo, and the rest,” who rain down black candana in the midst of empty space, while measureless nāga women strike up heavenly music and rain down heavenly wondrous flowers and heavenly fragrant water. They say that the light of the fire universally shone upon the palaces of all the nāgas, and “made the nāga hosts leave behind the dread of the burning sand and the dread of the golden-winged bird,” extinguish anger, have their bodies obtain coolness, have their minds without stain and turbidity, hear the Dharma and have faith and understanding, loathe the destiny of a nāga, with a mind of utmost sincerity repent and remove the obstructions of karma, and even to give rise to the mind of awakening and abide in all-knowledge.

It has to be asked: why does what this host obtains begin from ‘dread’?

The burning sand and the golden-winged bird are two sufferings of the nāga destiny, the one the suffering of the place one is in, the other the dread of a natural enemy. The sūtra text first releases the dread and afterward extinguishes anger—this sequence is worth noticing: anger is very often the outer garment of dread, and only when the dread loosens can the anger be extinguished.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that anger must be handled by forbearance. The benefits this stretch lists follow in this order: leaving behind the dread of the burning sand and the dread of the golden-winged bird, “extinguish anger,” “have their bodies obtain coolness,” “have their minds without stain and turbidity,” and thereafter “hear the Dharma and have faith and understanding”—the dread gone, the anger is extinguished; the anger extinguished, body and mind are cool and clear; and only then is the Dharma taken in. Brought down to the ground: to treat anger, first look at what fear is pressed down underneath it.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (eight): The Yakṣa Kings Begin from Their Own Giving Rise to a Mind of Kindness

The eighth host is ten thousand yakṣa kings, who with the various articles of offering revere and make offerings to this brahmin and to Sudhana. They say that at the time of the light of the fire “I and my retinue all gave rise to a mind of kindness and pity toward beings,” and even “all the rākṣasas, kumbhāṇḍas, and the rest also gave rise to a mind of kindness,” and because there was a mind of kindness there was nothing of vexing and harming toward beings; and afterward, hearing the Dharma, “all of us obtained ease and joy of body and mind,” and he further made measureless yakṣas, rākṣasas, kumbhāṇḍas, and the rest give rise to the unsurpassed mind of awakening.

It has to be asked: how does the angle from which this host speaks differ from that of the seven hosts before?

The several hosts before all begin from ‘I no longer covet and cling,’ and this host begins from ‘I no longer vex and harm.’ Yakṣas and rākṣasas and their kind take vexing and harming as their occupation, and so their turning does not lie in what they enjoy, but in their mind toward others. The sūtra text also points out particularly that this host makes its offering to the brahmin and to Sudhana, the two of them, while the other hosts mostly speak only to Sudhana.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a mind of kindness is a mild disposition. The mind of kindness in this stretch is something born upon those whose occupation is harm. Brought down to the ground: the first step of kindness is not to like someone; it is to stop one's hand.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (nine): The Shortest Stretch, That of the Gandharva Kings

The ninth host is ten thousand gandharva kings, speaking in the midst of empty space. This stretch is the shortest of the thirteen hosts: the light of the fire shone upon their palaces and “made us all receive inconceivable and measureless pleasure,” and for that reason they came to his place, and after hearing the Dharma it “was able to make us obtain non-retrogression in anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi.”

It has to be asked: what they obtain is only the two sentences of ‘pleasure’ and ‘non-retrogression’—is that not too little?

It is not little. This host takes music as its occupation and dwells in pleasure to begin with, and so what the light of the fire gives them is not a pressing but a greater pleasure—the sūtra text uses “inconceivable and measureless pleasure,” which is to say that this pleasure is no longer the sort they had. The deliverance of the gandharvas is a being carried off by a greater pleasure.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that one must leave suffering in order to enter the path. This stretch is a leaving of small pleasure for great pleasure. Brought down to the ground: to speak of suffering to one who covets pleasure is often less use than letting him taste real pleasure once.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (ten): The Asura Kings Cast Away Arrogance and Heedlessness

The tenth host is ten thousand asura kings, who come forth from the great sea and abide in the midst of empty space, “baring the wheel of their right knees, joining their palms and making obeisance before him.” They say that at the time of the light of the fire “all the palaces of us asuras, the great sea, and the great earth all quaked,” and so they cast away arrogance and heedlessness; and after hearing the Dharma they “cast off and left behind flattery and deceit, abided upon the ground of forbearance, firm and unmoving, and fulfilled the ten powers.”

It has to be asked: what is it that is treated in the asuras?

It is the pair of arrogance and flattering deceit. The asuras have contending for the upper hand as their nature, showing arrogance outwardly and hiding flattering deceit within, and so what the sūtra text sets against it is likewise a pair: first casting away arrogance and heedlessness, then casting off and leaving behind flattery and deceit. And what they abide upon is “the ground of forbearance”—the opposite of a nature that contends for the upper hand is not yielding, but forbearance.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that forbearance is swallowing one's anger. The forbearance of this stretch is spoken of joined to “firm and unmoving” and “fulfilled the ten powers”; it is the name of a kind of strength. Brought down to the ground: not to contend is not to lose; it is to have no need of winning.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (eleven): The Garuḍa Kings Appear in the Shape of Non-Buddhist Youths

The eleventh host is ten thousand garuḍa kings, with the king Brave Strength Holding as their head, who “transformed themselves into the shape of non-Buddhist youths” and called out in the midst of empty space. They say that the light of the fire shone upon their palaces and “all of them quaked and all were in terror,” and so they came to his place; and what they obtained from hearing the Dharma was that he “made us cultivate great kindness, praise great compassion, cross over the sea of birth-and-death, rescue and deliver beings from the midst of the mire of desire, extol the mind of awakening, give rise to the knowledge of skillful means, and tame beings in accord with what is fitting for them.”

It has to be asked: why must they transform themselves into the appearance of non-Buddhist youths?

This is one of the most notable echoes in this stretch. Sudhana is just then doubting that the one before him is a counterfeit who “falsely displays the marks of a bodhisattva good friend”; and the host that is now resolving his doubt for him has itself transformed into the shape of a non-Buddhist. By this arrangement the sūtra text makes plain that the outer mark and the inner reality were never one and the same thing, and that to judge by clinging to marks is to judge wrongly at both ends.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the shape of a non-Buddhist must be a non-Buddhist. Brought down to the ground: the benefit the garuḍas obtain is wholly on the side of benefiting others—great kindness, great compassion, rescuing and delivering, taming—and yet the mark they display is the one least like a bodhisattva.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (twelve): The Jeweled Trees of the Kiṃnara Kings Send Forth Voices

The twelfth host is ten thousand kiṃnara kings. They say that at the time of the light of the fire, the many tāla trees, the nets of jeweled bells, the jeweled ribbons of silk, the music trees, the wondrous jewel trees, and the various instruments of music of the palaces where they dwell “of themselves sent forth the voice of the Buddha, the voice of the Dharma, and the voice of the saṃgha of non-retrogressive bodhisattvas, and the voice of vowing and seeking unsurpassed awakening,” and what was said was that in such a quarter and such a land there is such a bodhisattva who has given rise to the mind of awakening, who cultivates ascetic practice and gives up what is hard to give up, who goes to the place of awakening, and even that in such a quarter and such a land there is such a Tathāgata who, having finished the work of a Buddha, enters parinirvāṇa.

It has to be asked: why is it this host in particular that hears the news of all the bodhisattvas in the Dharma realm?

Because the kiṃnaras take music as their occupation, and there is not one thing in the place where they dwell that is not able to send forth a voice. The sūtra text lets these instruments of music themselves speak out the names and the practices of the bodhisattvas of the ten directions—what is reported is not the affair of one Buddha, but the whole Dharma realm's cultivation as it is now going on.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that cultivation is one person's affair. The voices sent forth in this stretch are measureless persons in measureless places walking the same road at the same time. Brought down to the ground: to know that others are walking it too is itself a kind of strength.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (twelve, continued): The Dust Motes Can Be Known to Their Limit, and the Voices Sent Forth Cannot Be Known

The same host next sets up a likeness: “Suppose a person were to grind all the grasses and trees of Jambudvīpa into dust motes: the number of those dust motes could still be known to its limit”—grind all the grasses and trees of the whole of Jambudvīpa into dust motes, and this number, great as it is to the utmost, still has a limit; whereas the names of bodhisattvas, the names of Tathāgatas, the great vows made and the practices cultivated, and the rest, that the jeweled trees and instruments of music within the palaces speak, are such that “there is none who can know their limit.”

It has to be asked: what is this likeness meant to display?

It displays that two kinds of ‘many’ are not of one kind. The manyness of the dust motes of grasses and trees is a manyness of number, and however great a number may be it can always be counted to the end; whereas the manyness of the names of bodhisattvas and of their vows and practices is a manyness that is inexhaustible, and does not lie upon the road of number at all. The work of the likeness is to push the reader's mind from ‘very many’ to ‘not to be counted.’

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the great numbers in the sūtra are exaggeration. This stretch says plainly of itself that the number of dust motes “could still be known to its limit”—the sūtra text does not win by great numbers; the great numbers are only a step used to set off what stands against them. Brought down to the ground: the truly measureless is not a matter of adding a great deal; it is not within adding and subtracting at all.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (twelve, concluded): Why They Came

The concluding words of this host are: “We, because we heard the voice of the Buddha, the voice of the Dharma, and the voice of the saṃgha of bodhisattvas, gave rise to great joy and came to his place,” and after hearing the Dharma it made them and the rest of the measureless beings obtain non-retrogression in unsurpassed awakening.

It has to be asked: how does the reason of their coming differ from that of the other hosts?

The other hosts mostly came because their palaces had been outshone by the light of the fire and their minds no longer delighted and clung; this host came because it heard the voice of the Three Jewels and gave rise to great joy. The one is a being pushed, the other a being drawn. Among the thirteen hosts, both reasons for coming are complete.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that there is only one gate for entering the path. Brought down to the ground: some turn back because they have been disappointed, and some set out because they have been gladdened, and the sūtra text takes in both.

The Surpassing Conditions Exhorting and Drawing Him On (thirteen): The Gods of the Realm of Desire Say the Light of the Fire Shone into the Hells

The last host is not called ten thousand; the sūtra text writes “measureless gods of the realm of desire.” They say: “the light of that fire shone upon Avīci and all the hells, and the various sufferings undergone there were all made to cease”; they are themselves those who saw this light of fire and gave rise in their minds to pure faith, and because of the mind of faith passed away from there and were born among the gods; and now “for the sake of acknowledging his kindness we have come to his place,” revering and gazing up at him without ever having enough.

It has to be asked: where lies the greatest difference between this host and the twelve hosts before?

It lies in their having come out of the hells. The twelve hosts before mostly came from having lost their delight and clinging in the heavens; this host came from having seen a thread of light in the place of utmost suffering. And the name under which they come is different too—it is not to seek the Dharma, it is to repay kindness.

And the conclusion of this host is the same one thing as that of the twelve hosts before: “the brahmin expounded the Dharma for me, and made measureless beings give rise to the mind of awakening.” It has to be asked: since they have come to repay kindness, why must the Dharma still be expounded? Because repaying kindness is only the name under which they come, while hearing the Dharma is the actual thing they obtain; and what is thereby accomplished does not stop at their own persons—it is to “make measureless beings give rise to the mind of awakening.” The thirteen hosts speak on all the way down, and at the last it is upon this one sentence that it comes to rest—not upon who obtained what pleasure, but upon the giving rise to the mind.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that fire has only the use of burning. The light of the fire in this stretch shines upon Avīci, and what it does is to stop suffering. Brought down to the ground: one and the same mass of fire, in the palaces of the gods takes away their light, in the hells stills their suffering, and upon Sudhana is samādhi—with one fire the sūtra text has written three uses.

The Doubt Exhausted, Repenting the Fault: Sudhana Himself Says He “Gave Rise to an Unwholesome Mind”

When the thirteen hosts had finished speaking, “the youth Sudhana, having heard Dharma such as this, was greatly joyful in his mind, and at the brahmin's place gave rise to the mind that here was a true good friend, and bowed his head in reverence,” and then said: “Toward the great and holy good friend I have given rise to an unwholesome mind; I only pray that the holy one will allow me to repent my fault!”

It has to be asked: which thing is it that he repents?

It is not the hesitating that he repents, but the “giving rise to an unwholesome mind”—that is, the giving rise, toward a good friend, to a mind of no faith, suspecting that he might be a Māra. Chengguan said above that giving rise to doubt is for the sake of sorting out true from false, and in that there is no fault; what is repented is that portion of no faith within the doubt, and not the sorting out itself.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that asking to repent is a bowing of the head in defeat. The sūtra text says that at this moment he “gave rise to the mind that here was a true good friend”—at the same moment as the repenting, that mind of a true good friend is first set up. Brought down to the ground: to change one's view is not a loss of face; it is the place where the relation truly begins.

Admonishing and Exhorting, and Granting Him Pardon (one): The First Stanza of the Verse

The brahmin received his repentance and spoke a verse for Sudhana. The first stanza is: “If there be bodhisattvas who follow the teaching of a good friend, in all things without doubt and dread, abiding with unmoving minds.”

It has to be asked: is this stanza speaking of obedience?

What it speaks of is the sequence of following and of not doubting. The sūtra text places following the teaching first and being without doubt and dread after—what is followed is the teaching of the good friend, and the not arising of doubt and dread is tied to that following. And the road Sudhana has just walked Chengguan divides very plainly: the fourth, “the doubt exhausted, repenting the fault,” and the fifth, “admonishing and exhorting, and granting him pardon,” stand first, and the sixth, “cultivating and realizing in accord with the teaching,” after—he heard the exhortation of the thirteen hosts and his doubt was removed first, his repentance was finished and the verse of pardon received, and only then did he climb the mountain of knives and cast himself into the mass of fire; and what he knew after entering the fire was that it was secure and pleasant.

Here one question must first be answered through: since a Māra too can put forth an exhortation, why is Sudhana's doubt removed as soon as he hears one? Chengguan sets up this very question for himself—“a Māra too is able to display an exhortation—why then is the doubt removed as soon as it is heard?”—and answers it with three things. The first is “because this good friend was pointed to by the previous friend”: this one did not come up of his own accord; he was pointed to by the good friend before him. The second is “moreover, what is directly told within the exhortation is not what a Māra can do”: what is told within the exhortation is the right Dharma, and the right Dharma is not what a Māra can produce. The third is “and Sudhana has also obtained an eye that goes beyond Māra”: Sudhana himself has obtained an eye that goes beyond Māra, and can see true from false. The three grounds stand together, and so the doubt here is not pressed down but dissolved—which is also exactly why Chengguan says that the doubt entered the sūtra as “a rule for later ages, so as to make them examine carefully.”

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this asks a person to follow blindly. The sūtra text in the preceding stretch plainly left room for careful examination, and the witness of the thirteen hosts is likewise material given him for that examination. Brought down to the ground: examination is a matter for before entering the door; after entering the door it is practice.

Admonishing and Exhorting, and Granting Him Pardon (two): The Second Stanza of the Verse

The second stanza is: “Know that a person such as this will surely obtain vast benefit, will sit beneath the tree of awakening, and accomplish unsurpassed awakening.”

It has to be asked: from following a good friend's teaching once, how does it come to speak of sitting beneath the tree of awakening and accomplishing unsurpassed awakening?

Because what is spoken of here is not the affair of one time. The “abiding with unmoving minds” of the first stanza is a mind of continuity that has already been settled and fixed, and the second stanza speaks, upon this mind, of its ultimate fruit. The two stanzas of the verse are a pair: the former speaks of the cause, the latter of the fruit; the former speaks of the mind of the present moment, the latter of the seat at the last.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that following a teacher's instruction once earns a prediction. Brought down to the ground: the weight of the verse is in the word “abiding,” not in following once.

Cultivating and Realizing in Accord with the Teaching (one): The Samādhi of Dwelling Well Obtained Before Reaching the Middle

Sudhana “forthwith climbed the mountain of knives and cast himself into the mass of fire; and before he had reached the middle, he obtained the bodhisattva samādhi of Dwelling Well.”

It has to be asked: why is the samādhi obtained ‘before he had reached the middle’?

Chengguan glosses this saying, “that before reaching it he obtains the samādhi of Dwelling Well is because above he does not rest on the mountain and below he does not rest on the fire, but is rightly placed in empty space, which displays that wisdom leaves the two extremes and rests on nothing; and so it is named Dwelling Well.” At this moment he has already left the mountain of knives and has not yet touched the flames; above he is not attached and below he is not attached, and he is right in empty space—what is displayed is precisely resting on nothing. And the name the sūtra text gives this samādhi is “Dwelling Well”: to rest on nothing and yet be called dwelling well—the name and the sense are exactly opposite and exactly completing of each other.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that it only counts once one has leapt into the fire, and that the stretch in between is merely a passage. The sūtra text gives the first samādhi precisely in that stretch. Brought down to the ground: the very moment of letting go of both ends is itself the thing obtained.

Cultivating and Realizing in Accord with the Teaching (two): The Samādhi of the Spiritual Penetration of the Bliss of Quiescence Obtained as Soon as He Touched the Flames

“As soon as he touched the flames, he further obtained the bodhisattva samādhi of the Spiritual Penetration of the Bliss of Quiescence.”

It has to be asked: wherein does the second samādhi differ from the first?

It differs in the one word ‘touch.’ Chengguan glosses this saying, “as for the samādhi of spiritual penetration, it is a realizing in person of the very substance of wisdom, that is, the nirvāṇa that is pure by nature, and so it says the bliss of quiescence. And its great functioning is without shore, and so it says spiritual penetration. Touching is realizing in person.” The former is in empty space, and is a leaving of the two extremes; this one is within the flames, and is a realizing in person. So the sequence of the two samādhis is the sequence of leaving the extremes and thereafter realizing in person—without leaving the extremes, what is touched is only fire; the extremes once left, what is touched is the very substance.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that quiescence and spiritual penetration are two separate things, the one still and the other moving. This samādhi holds two within one name: quiescence is the substance realized, and spiritual penetration is the functioning upon that substance. Brought down to the ground: true stillness is not being unmoving; it is moving without losing one's stillness.

Cultivating and Realizing in Accord with the Teaching (three): The One Sentence Sudhana Speaks Himself

Sudhana said: “How very wonderful, holy one! A mountain of knives and a great mass of fire such as these—when my body touches them, they are secure and pleasant.”

It has to be asked: why is this sentence kept in the sūtra?

Because what the thirteen hosts spoke before was all the testimony of others, and this one sentence alone is Sudhana's own. The sequence of the sūtra text is: first doubting, next hearing the exhortation, next repenting, next entering, and at the last realizing for himself. At this sentence the exhorting and drawing on truly comes to an end—a hundred sentences from others do not come up to touching it once oneself.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that “secure and pleasant” means that ascetic practice has a pleasant retribution. This pleasure is the pleasure of samādhi, not a pleasure felt by the body; the sūtra text says plainly “when my body touches them,” and what has been obtained is already two samādhis. Brought down to the ground: the last criterion of whether a dharma gate is true or false lies only in one's having walked it oneself.

Humbling Himself and Deferring to the Superior (one): I Have Obtained Only This One

The first sentence of the brahmin's answer is: “Son of good family! I have obtained only this bodhisattva liberation of the inexhaustible wheel.”

It has to be asked: this good friend who has just displayed marks so inconceivable—why is his first word ‘I only’?

This is a set form shared by the more than fifty good friends of this chapter: having finished telling the dharma gate obtained, one straightway humbles oneself and defers to those more surpassing. Chengguan glosses the name of the inexhaustible wheel saying, “first, the wheel of knowledge crushes delusion, and because it illumines its very source there is nothing that can exhaust it; second, it is a functioning of knowledge that runs counter to the ordinary, and because its functioning is coextensive with the Dharma realm there is no exhausting it. It turns roundly without ceasing, and for this reason it is named a wheel”—as for the wheel, the one sense is the crushing of delusion, the other the turning roundly without stopping. And Li Tongxuan glosses it otherwise, by the answering to faculties, saying, “it makes clear that because he answers to the faculties of beings in fullness, it is named the inexhaustible wheel.”

Set aside a misreading: the notion that words of humility are a courtesy. The humility here is a plain statement of fact—a good friend does indeed preside over one gate only, and so Sudhana must go on and visit further. Brought down to the ground: to know the limit of what one has obtained is the precondition of being able to hand a person on.

Humbling Himself and Deferring to the Superior (two): In What Things the Surpassing He Defers To Consists

The brahmin next praises the bodhisattva-mahāsattvas: “as for the great flame of merit of the bodhisattva-mahāsattvas, which is able to burn up the view-delusions of all beings and leave no remainder,” and lists their minds—the inexhaustible mind that surely does not retrogress, the mind without indolence, the mind without faint-heartedness.

It has to be asked: why is the first thing praised still the ‘flame’?

Because the dharma gate over which he presides is fire itself. He does not defer to something else; he defers to the greater of the very same thing. What he has himself obtained Chengguan glosses by the two senses of the inexhaustible wheel: the one, that the wheel of knowledge crushes delusion and illumines its very source, so that nothing can exhaust it; the other, that it is a functioning of knowledge running counter to the ordinary whose functioning is coextensive with the Dharma realm, so that there is no exhausting it—of itself it is not confined to one place. And the surpassing he defers to he states upon the great flame of merit of the bodhisattvas: it “burns up the view-delusions of all beings and leaves no remainder.” And that it can leave no remainder is tied to the three ‘minds’ that follow—not retrogressing, without indolence, without faint-heartedness.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that deferring to the surpassing is a changing of the topic. Brought down to the ground: the surpassing that is deferred to is mostly on the extension of the very thing one practices oneself, and the difference is in how far one can carry it.

Humbling Himself and Deferring to the Superior (three): The Mind Like Vajragarbha and Nārāyaṇa, and the Vow Like the Wheel of Wind

Next comes: “the giving rise to a mind like Vajragarbha and Nārāyaṇa; the mind that swiftly cultivates the various practices and is without slowness; the vow that, like the wheel of wind, universally upholds all the great oaths of vigor so that none of them retrogress.”

It has to be asked: two likenesses are used here in a row—what does each display?

Vajragarbha and Nārāyaṇa are taken for their firmness and strength—the firmness of the mind that cannot be broken, and a strength that cannot be bent; the wheel of wind is taken for its upholding—the wheel of wind upon which the world rests upholds everything universally and does not tire, and it is the likeness for the great vow's power of upholding the practices. The one speaks of the firmness of the substance, the other of the upholding of the function. Between them is inserted the sentence “the mind that swiftly cultivates the various practices and is without slowness,” which joins firmness and upholding to the practice of the present moment.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a great vow is merely a vow made greatly. The work of the great vow here is ‘upholding’—it is not the promising of a far and great result, but the holding up of all that is already being practiced so that it does not retrogress. Brought down to the ground: the strength of a vow shows itself when one is tired and still practicing.

Humbling Himself and Deferring to the Superior (four): And How Could I Know or Be Able to Tell

The stretch of humbling himself concludes with one question: “How could I know or be able to tell of their practice of merit?”

It has to be asked: this sentence is repeated dozens of times in this chapter—how should the reader read it?

It must be read as a real question and not a set phrase. Of the virtues of the bodhisattvas praised above, this good friend does not himself say ‘I have them not’; what he says is that I cannot know and cannot tell. There is a limit to what is known and what is told, and only when that limit is plainly marked does Sudhana know to walk on.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this is a belittling of himself. Brought down to the ground: to say honestly where one's telling cannot reach is more honest than forcing out one more thing to say, and more useful too.

Pointing to the Next Friend (one): The City Named Lion's Swift Rousing

“Son of good family! Here, in the south, there is a city named: Lion's Swift Rousing.”

It has to be asked: why must the name of the city be recorded?

The good friends of this chapter mostly have the place where they dwell answering to the dharma over which they preside. Chengguan glosses this saying, “as for the Lion's Swift Rousing, it is the dwelling of the king Lion Banner, and signifies the shaking and the shining that uphold the world, sovereign and without fear”—what the Lion's Swift Rousing takes is the sense of fearlessness and of shaking and shining. And the sūtra text gives only the name and no gloss; the gloss is what the ancient worthy has added.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the name of a city is only a place name. Brought down to the ground: in reading this chapter, look at the name of the city, the name of the friend, and the name of the dharma gate together, and one can often tell at a glance what this one presides over.

Pointing to the Next Friend (two): The Maiden Named Kindly Conduct

“Within it there is a maiden named: Kindly Conduct.”

It has to be asked: from a brahmin who displays himself by fire, to be handed over to a maiden named Kindly Conduct—where lies the interest of this turn?

Chengguan glosses this saying, “as for the maiden Kindly Conduct, she knows the faculties of beings and makes them tamed, kindness being her practice. Out of knowledge compassion is born, and then she is able to dwell in the world unstained; this is what is meant by a maiden”—the former presides over the cutting of knowledge, the latter over the gathering in of compassion. The former is knife and fire, the latter kindly conduct; the former breaks views, the latter tames faculties. The sequence of the sūtra text is knowledge first and compassion after, and Chengguan points out that “out of knowledge compassion is born”: the two are not set side by side, but the one gives birth to the other.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the hard and the soft are two roads one may choose between. Brought down to the ground: to be able to be supple toward people without being carried off by them rests upon the knife that the former one taught.

Pointing to the Next Friend (three): Still That Same One Question

The sentence pointing him on is: “Go there and ask her: how is a bodhisattva to study the practice that a bodhisattva practices and to cultivate the path that a bodhisattva cultivates?”

It has to be asked: why is even what he is to ask settled for him in advance?

Because although those visited differ, what is asked is one. This sentence answers word for word to the question Sudhana himself raises before every good friend—the former one hands the same question on to the next, and more than fifty of them are strung into a single line in this way.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a good friend's pointing of the road is merely the giving of an address. Brought down to the ground: what is truly handed down is not the route; it is that question which has never changed.

Cherishing His Virtue, Bowing, and Taking Leave

The last sentence is: “At that time, the youth Sudhana bowed to the feet of that one, circled around him numberless times, took his leave, and departed.”

It has to be asked: these few sentences of courtesy—why must they be written into the sūtra at all?

Because the completeness of visiting and studying lies not only in obtaining the Dharma, but also in taking leave cleanly. Bowing the head is revering what he conferred; circling numberless times is cherishing his virtue; taking leave is not lingering—only these three things joined together make the closing of one good friend's stretch. To obtain the Dharma and not cherish the virtue is thin; to cherish the virtue and not take leave is to be stuck.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this is ceremonial wording that may be read past. Brought down to the ground: to be able to revere, to be able to cherish, and also to be able to go—to do all three at once is not easy.

Lineage

What the text of this stretch opens out to below lies along two lines, the line of the name and the line of the sense.

The line of the name lies in one friend having two names. The eighty-fascicle and the forty-fascicle sūtra texts read Victorious Heat, and the sixty-fascicle sūtra text reads Life of Skillful Means; among the ancient worthies, Chengguan's Huayan jing shu and Li Tongxuan's Xin Huayan jing lun carry on the Victorious Heat line, and Fazang's Tanxuan ji and Zhiyan's Souxuan ji carry on the Life of Skillful Means line. The two names each take a sense of their own: Li Tongxuan glosses Victorious Heat saying, “it signifies that he surpasses the heat of the afflictions of the world, and displays a surpassing blaze of flaming heat”; Fazang glosses Life of Skillful Means saying, “he takes skillful means as his life according to the matter at hand, and so knife and fire cannot harm him”—the one sets up the name upon the heat surpassed, the other upon the skillful means by which he is able to act. The place where he dwells likewise has two forms: the eighty-fascicle and the forty-fascicle read the village of Yishana, and the sixty-fascicle reads the land of Going Forward and Seeking; Fazang separately transmits the name of the text from India for Yishana and glosses it as the wilderness, or as longing and seeking, while Li Tongxuan glosses it as the long and straight. The forty-fascicle further brings out, besides the village, the name of a dwelling place, which the eighty-fascicle and the sixty-fascicle do not have. Recorded without judgment.

The line of the sense lies in the matching of the knives and the fire. Chengguan first sets up the sense upon wisdom, taking the mountain of knives as the knowledge without discrimination and matching the mass of fire to the four propositions, and further sets up separately, “a further gloss: the knife is the virtue of cutting off, because there is nothing it does not cut. The fire is the virtue of knowledge, because there is nothing it does not illumine,” and comes to rest upon one sentence of judgment: “that is, the mountain of knives is that by which realizing is done and the mass of fire is what is realized, and therefore this fire and the rest are precisely the dharma gate”; and his Yanyi chao further matches them to the three virtues of nirvāṇa, saying, “the mountain of knives is the virtue of liberation, the fire is the virtue of wisdom, and the principle is the dharma-body.” Fazang cites the saying of Dharma Master Zheng, matching the masses of fire on four sides to the four unobstructed knowledges, and matching the mountain of knives to the knowledge of preparatory practice, saying, “as for the mountain of knives, it is the knowledge of preparatory practice, because it goes toward realization swiftly and sharply,” and his concluding words are close to Chengguan's: “this mass of fire and mountain of knives are precisely the dharma gate; there is no further signifying.” Li Tongxuan sets up a different rule of signification, saying, “the mountain of knives is the prince of the Dharma King. Within this abode, the perfection of strength has wisdom for its substance,” and further, “the flame of fire is the light of vajra knowledge, and is also named the vajra samādhi.” Zhiyan divides them by the two functions of having and not having, saying, “the substance of the knife is continuous, and it increases and completes its function of cutting off dharmas, because it has the capacity to break.” As for the fire, it increases and completes the function of displaying what is constant. Zhiyan further, in the Kongmu zhang, within a listing that glosses the good friends one by one, judges this friend saying, “in terms of the distinct teaching of the one vehicle, he accomplishes the dharma of the contrary path—climbing the mountain of knives and casting himself into the mass of fire—and accomplishes the sense of benefiting,” setting up his position upon the accomplishing of benefit by way of the contrary path; while in one place, a list of names, he writes “the tenth is named the brahmin lay disciple Life of Skillful Means,” preserving the name and glossing it no further—the glossing of the sense and the preserving of the name each have their own place. The divisions of their outlines also differ: Chengguan makes six parts, Fazang likewise six but with names and starting points differing from Chengguan's, Zhiyan makes three divisions, and Li Tongxuan opens out twenty-five gates. What these several houses set up each has its own rule, and it is recorded.

As to the number of the thirteen hosts, Chengguan judges it saying, “there are thirteen hosts, each of which sets out how it was once benefited and transformed by Victorious Heat, and so they exhort him not to doubt,” and Li Tongxuan likewise makes thirteen sorts of hosts; whereas what the forty-fascicle sūtra text lists is fourteen hosts, bringing out a separate host of the kings of the Yāma gods between the kings of the Tuṣita gods and the Thirty-Three Gods. The names of the two samādhis and of the dharma gate also take differing forms in the three texts; recorded side by side without judgment.

In the text of this one stretch, the first half is doubt and the latter half is entering. To doubt and not to enter is in the end to be a bystander; to enter without ever having doubted is not to know what it is one has entered. As to why this friend is placed at the position assigned to the abode of the prince, Chengguan's Chao has its own gloss: “from the teaching of the Dharma King he is born into right understanding, and is to succeed to the position of a Buddha”—from the teaching of the Dharma King right understanding is born, and he is to succeed to the position of a Buddha, and therefore he is assigned to this abode. To doubt and thereafter to enter is precisely the matter of understanding being born from the teaching; and the reason for the position assigned still rests upon this saying of the Chao.