華嚴經 義疏通講 · 冊19Avataṃsaka Sūtra · Exposition Throughout · Vol. 19

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.

The Last of the Ten Abodes, Handed to a Young Girl

Among the fifty-three visits, this one is the last of the ten abodes. Chengguan outlines it as “The tenth, the maiden Kindly Conduct, is assigned to the abode of consecration, and the text in six parts is as before”—‘assigned to the abode of consecration’ says this: the position of practice shown by this stretch of the sūtra text is matched against the tenth of the ten abodes, the abode of consecration. One thing must be made clear first: the sūtra text itself does not write the three words “abode of consecration.” The matching of the position in the sequence is a reading set up by Chengguan following the ancient worthies, not a judgment the sūtra text makes of itself; and in outlining the five marks of this assembly Chengguan says of himself that he is following what the ancient worthies matched. So in reading this stretch, the name of the position is a measuring rod and the sūtra text is what is measured—the rod can help you see the sequence, but do not take the rod for what the sūtra text says. Chengguan himself first explains the proper measure of this matching of positions: “Both have their reason; that is, since each single position holds many dharma gates, how could it be that the ordinary mind is unable to practice and seek the dharma of the good friend? Therefore not to match has its reason. Yet within the absence of position in sequence the sequence of positions is not obstructed, and to manifest position is the constant rule, so that to match is likewise no fault”—not to match has its reason, and to match is no loss either; the assigning of a position manifests the constant rule, it does not lock a good friend down to one rung.

Chengguan's Yanyi chao gives a further gloss upon the name of this position: “from the previous contemplation of emptiness, the mind that gains the unborn is foremost of all, and the Buddhas pour the water of the Dharma upon her head.”—the previous position having contemplated emptiness and gained the mind of the unborn, and that mind being foremost of all, the Buddhas pour the water of the Dharma upon her head, and so this position is named consecration. The name of a position is not a title conferred; it is set up upon the mind that has been obtained.

Then why is this one a maiden? Fazang's Tanxuan ji glosses this: “As for the maiden, it is the mark of the position fulfilled, apart from defilement, chaste and pure”—he takes the position as fulfilled and undefiled. Li Tongxuan has another reading, holding that “sovereign freedom of knowledge is signified as the king, and the practice of great compassion pervading all is signified as the daughter, which sets out that here compassion is born from knowledge”—the father the king signifies knowledge, the daughter signifies compassion. The two sayings each have their own track, and here they are set side by side without ranking. Brought down to the ground: in this sūtra the standing, the sex, and the dwelling place of a good friend are never idle strokes of the brush, and the ancient worthies all read them as marks of the position of practice.

Before Setting Out: Giving Rise to “a Mind of the Utmost Esteem” Toward the Previous Good Friend

At the opening of a stretch of visiting and study, the sūtra text does not write that Sudhana set out; it writes his mind first. “He gave rise to a mind of the utmost esteem, gave rise to a vast and pure understanding, was constantly mindful of the Great Vehicle, and single-mindedly sought the knowledge of a Buddha”—four sentences. Chengguan divides these four sentences thus: “the first two sentences are the giving rise of understanding through esteem for the friend, and the next two sentences are being mindful of the vehicle and thinking upon the Buddha”: the first two are attached to the previous good friend (esteeming him, and through him giving rise to a vast and pure understanding), and only the latter two turn toward the Dharma and the Buddha.

A misreading must be set aside: the notion that visiting and study is a matter of changing from one to the next, and that once you have changed you set the previous one down. The sequence of the sūtra text is exactly the reverse—the next stretch of road grows out of esteem for the one before. “Giving rise to a vast and pure understanding” is the fruit, and “giving rise to a mind of the utmost esteem” is the cause; the understanding was not thought up by oneself, it was born within esteem. Brought down to the ground: to check whether you have really learned the dharma of the previous good friend, do not ask how much you remember; ask whether your esteem for him is still there, and whether that understanding is still growing.

The Nine Kinds of “Limit”: The Utmost Point That Knowledge Realizes

Next the sūtra text sets out nine “limits” and comes to rest at “the limitless limit of all the Tathāgatas”: the true limit, the limit of constant abiding, the limit of the instant, the limit that is like empty space, the limit of non-duality, the limit without discrimination, the limit without obstruction, the limit in which nothing is lost or destroyed, and the last sentence, “the limitless limit of all the Tathāgatas.” Chengguan judges this stretch to be ‘knowledge realizing the true limit,’ and says “the first sentence is the knowledge that is able to observe,” and further divides it by “from ‘he now knew with decision’ onward is the utmost point of what is realized”—according to Chengguan, the sentence “observing the objective realm of dharmas” is the knowledge that is able to observe, and from “the knowledge that is without obstruction was constantly present before his eyes” down through the limits is the utmost point of what is realized.

A ‘limit’ is a boundary, an ultimate point. This string is not nine different truths; it is one and the same thing pressed to the end from nine angles: pressed to the end from the reality of dharmas, it is the true limit; pressed to the end from time, it is the limit of the instant; pressed to the end from space, it is the limit that is like empty space; pressed to the end from grasper and grasped, it is the limit of non-duality. The remaining four are each pressed in their own way: pressed to the end from change, it is the limit of constant abiding—not that some everlasting thing is set there, but that the true mark of dharmas neither increases nor decreases with time; pressed to the end from the mind that discriminates, it is the limit without discrimination—the sūtra text says “the limit without discrimination in all dharmas,” discrimination upon every dharma being exhausted; pressed to the end from the clogging of meaning against meaning, it is the limit without obstruction—the sūtra text says “the limit without obstruction in every meaning,” meaning no longer jamming against meaning; pressed to the end from the forming and breaking of kalpas, it is the limit in which nothing is lost or destroyed—the sūtra text says “the limit in which nothing is lost or destroyed in all kalpas,” kalpas forming and breaking while this limit does not break. And the last sentence matters most—the limit of a Tathāgata is “the limitless limit”: once one has arrived there, even the notion of an “ultimate point” no longer stands, and this is what ultimacy is. Set aside a misreading: the notion that if one cultivates to a certain place there will be an end point waiting there. The sūtra text writes the end point as “limitless.” Brought down to the ground: any state you are able to think of as a fixed point is not yet the limit spoken of here.

The Mind Without Discrimination, Not Grasping at Buddha-Lands: Sovereign Freedom in Leaving Obstruction Behind

“Toward all the Buddhas he was without discrimination in his mind; he broke through the nets of the host of thoughts and left every sort of attachment behind; he did not grasp at the assemblies and places of enlightenment of the Buddhas, nor did he grasp at the pure lands of a Buddha”—Chengguan outlines this as ‘sovereign freedom in leaving obstruction behind.’

The hard place in this stretch is that what is relinquished is all of it good. That one should not grasp at what is defiled is easy to understand; what the sūtra text would have relinquished is the places of enlightenment and the pure lands of the Buddhas. A misreading must be set aside: the notion that ‘not grasping at Buddha-lands’ slights the Pure Land. It does not. “Grasping” here is grasping and holding, taking a thing as one's object and settling down in it. Just above, the limitless limit was spoken of; if the mind still sets up a finest of all places to go to, that place becomes a new boundary. The four Chinese characters 「破眾想網」 tr. “he broke through the nets of the host of thoughts” say it with great exactness—deluded thoughts do not come one strand at a time, they are woven into a net, and to settle in one place is to have the whole net pulled along. Brought down to the ground: when one has cultivated for a long while, the attachment most easily born is not a worldly one but one upon the Dharma, upon states of realization; and this sentence is set there for exactly that.

Echo and Shadow: The Three Sentences of Contemplating Suchness

“He knew that all beings are without a self, knew that all sounds are wholly like an echo, and knew that all forms are wholly like a shadow”—three sentences joined into one set: beings, sound, form.

Why take the echo and the shadow? Echo and shadow have one thing in common: plainly present to be heard and to be seen, and yet one cannot find any substance of their own. The echo in a valley has its substance where the sound is made; the shadow under the sun has its substance in the shape and the light. They are not nothing; they are present and without substance of their own. This is precisely the Huayan way of reading “emptiness”—it does not say there is nothing, it says there is appearing without nature. In the sixty-fascicle text the simile for form here is made a flash of lightning, which takes the side of ceasing in the very instant, while the eighty-fascicle text takes the shadow, which takes the side of appearing without substance; the two texts each take their own, and neither obstructs the sense. Brought down to the ground: for countering the sickness of reading “all is empty” as ‘there is nothing at all,’ the two words echo and shadow cost the least effort—you can hear it, and you cannot lay hold of it.

Coming to the City of the Lion's Bold Stride, and Seeking Everywhere

“Journeying on in due order toward the south, he came to the city of the Lion's Bold Stride and sought everywhere for the maiden Kindly Conduct”—within one sentence there are three matters: journeying, arriving, seeking. Fazang glosses the name of the city thus: “as for the city being named the Lion's Bold Stride, it means the mark of sovereign freedom in the virtue and function of samādhi”—the lion's bold stride is properly the name of a concentration, and what is taken is its majestic sovereign freedom. Li Tongxuan for his part says, “as for coming to the city of the Lion's Bold Stride and seeking everywhere for the maiden Kindly Conduct, it is the meeting of knowledge and compassion as of no two substances.”

Note the four Chinese characters 「周遍推求」 tr. “sought everywhere.” Counting from Mañjuśrī onward, ten good friends stand before Kindly Conduct (by Chengguan's assigning of positions, Kindly Conduct is the tenth of the ten abodes, and nine good friends of the ten abodes stand before her), and with none of them did Sudhana arrive by asking once. The difficulty of seeking the Dharma is never passed over by the sūtra text. Set aside a misreading: the notion that a good friend waits about to be met. What the sūtra text writes is seeking—asking through one place after another. Brought down to the ground: these four characters are the most solid piece of teaching in this stretch, for they turn the question ‘is there a good friend’ into the question ‘have I sought everywhere.’

The Five Hundred Attendants and the Vairocana Treasury Palace: First the Name Is Heard

“He heard that this maiden was the daughter of King Lion Banner, that she had five hundred maidens as her attendants, that she dwelt in the Vairocana Treasury Palace, and that upon a seat with feet of dragon-surpassing sandalwood, netted with golden thread and spread with heavenly cloth, she expounded the wondrous Dharma”—this stretch is ‘the first hearing’; he has not yet seen the person.

Upon the one sentence of the five hundred attendants Chengguan sets down a very weighty saying: “next, in the hearing of the name, that the five hundred are attendants is because, this whole term of position being fulfilled, she gathers in general the dharma of the five positions and their ten-times-ten dharma gates entering into one another, and is in correspondence with it”—the number five hundred is not display; it signifies that since this one is the fulfillment of the ten abodes, she gathers in general the dharma of the five positions (the ten abodes, the ten practices, the ten dedications, the ten grounds, and equal awakening), gate entering into gate. Li Tongxuan's gloss on the name of the palace comes to the same sense, holding that this palace “is that the fruit of Buddhahood includes and holds the host of virtues, and that the treasury of the practices of the five positions and the gate of the cause and fruit of a Buddha are all of them within this position.” The palace is named Vairocana Treasury—a treasury is what includes and gathers, and this is what the two houses hold in common. Brought down to the ground: when a number or a name in the sūtra seems to you mere ornament, ask first how the ancient worthies read it; this stretch is a ready example.

Why the Stretch of Asking the Way Had to Be Written In

“Sudhana asked them, ‘Where are all of you going now?’ They all answered him, ‘We are going to the maiden Kindly Conduct, to hear and receive the wondrous Dharma.’”—the sūtra text writes in a stretch of question and answer with passers-by.

Chengguan judges the stretch of seeing, paying respect, and inquiring thus: “within the first, the seeing, it first sets out the seeing from afar, which signifies that he has obtained the gate but has not yet realized it”—first seeing from afar and afterward beholding in person, which signifies that at this time he has only reached the gate and has not realized it in person. The use of this small stretch lies precisely here: Sudhana did not find the good friend by spiritual power; he went in following a crowd of people who were likewise going to hear the Dharma. Next comes one thought of Sudhana's own: “Since the gate of this royal palace has no limit or hindrance to it, I too ought to go in.” That the palace gate is unhindered is a fact, but someone must first see that fact before he can walk in. Set aside a misreading: the notion that obstructions are all outside. Here the gate is of itself unhindered, and had he not raised this one thought he would have stopped outside it. Brought down to the ground: many gates are in fact open, and what is lacking is only the one thought, “I too ought to go in.”

The Adornment of the Palace: Why the House Is Written First

Sudhana entered the palace, and the sūtra text uses a whole stretch to write the hall—crystal for its ground, beryl for its pillars, vajra for its walls, Jambū-river gold for its encircling wall, a hundred thousand rays of light for its windows, decked out with maṇi jewels, ringed about with jeweled-treasury maṇi mirrors, jeweled nets spread over it, a hundred thousand golden bells sending forth wondrous sounds. Ground, pillars, walls, encircling wall, windows, ornament, mirrors, nets, bells—ten places, rising layer upon layer.

This stretch looks like mere description, but it is in fact the groundwork for the next stretch—presently Sudhana is to see all the Tathāgatas within every single one of these things. Had the hall not been written out clearly first, “within each single wall, within each single pillar” would have had nothing to point to. That the sūtra text writes the dependent recompense so finely is precisely in order to manifest that the dependent recompense is able to manifest the proper recompense. Only then are the marks of the maiden written: “her skin was of the color of gold, her eyes were of a violet-blue color, her hair was of a dark-blue color, and with the sound of a Brahmā voice she expounded the Dharma.” Fazang glosses the golden color thus: “as for the golden color, it is the aspect of what is to be prized, and it makes plain that the position is fulfilled”—the position being fulfilled, it shows plainly upon the marks. Li Tongxuan reads this stretch by taking the signification of each thing in turn, which is not the road Chengguan walks: “As for beryl being the pillars: it is that pure practice upholds and sustains the myriad virtues. As for vajra being the walls: it is the guarding and protecting of pure knowledge. As for Jambū-river gold being the surrounding wall: it signifies that pure moral conduct adorns the outside. As for a hundred thousand lights being the windows: it is what the light of the teaching, illumining the worldly, brings forth in recompense.”—the pillars signify pure practice upholding the myriad virtues, the walls the guarding of pure knowledge, the surrounding wall pure moral conduct adorning the outside, the windows the light of the teaching reaching the worldly. One thing, one dharma: this is the track along which he constantly reads the sūtra. This is the gloss of Tongxuan's single house; it stands together with Chengguan's, and no judgment is made as to higher or lower. Brought down to the ground: in reading the stretches of adornment in the Huayan there is no need to hurry past them; for the most part they are not background, they are the material of what follows.

Sudhana's Question: What to Study, What to Cultivate

“Holy one! I have already brought forth beforehand the mind of unsurpassed perfect awakening, but I do not yet know how a bodhisattva is to study the practice of a bodhisattva, how a bodhisattva is to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva. I have heard that the holy one is well able to draw others on and to instruct them; I pray that you will expound it for me!”

This is Sudhana's fixed form of question to every good friend, and this stretch is no exception. Look closely at its structure: first he reports where he stands (he has already brought forth the mind of awakening), then he states his own gap (he does not yet know how to study, how to cultivate), and last he states the reason for coming to ask this person (he has heard that this one is well able to draw others on and to instruct them). Only when all three parts are present is it a question.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that to ask about the Dharma is to state one's doubt. In the sūtra text's question the doubt occupies only the middle section; before it there is the setting out of where one stands, and after it the honoring of what this person is able to do. Brought down to the ground: these three sentences can be used directly as the form for requesting the Dharma of another—where you stand, where you are stuck, and why you ask this person.

The First Answer Is One Sentence Only: “You Should Observe the Adornment of My Palace”

What was asked was how to study and how to cultivate; what is answered is “Son of good family! You should observe the adornment of my palace.”

This is the most important turn in the stretch. The maiden Kindly Conduct does not first expound doctrine; she has Sudhana go and look. Chengguan judges this to be ‘causing him to observe and to realize it in person,’ and sets out the reason for it: “one, causing him to observe and to realize it in person, and to see the proper within the dependent, small and great, thought and kalpa, all without obstruction, and the rest. The stage of the ten abodes comes to its end, and so it is shown by way of recompense.”—at the end of the ten abodes, what is realized is no longer manifested by speech alone but by recompense (the dependent and proper fruits of recompense obtained). So the first answer is a looking, not a stretch of talk.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this is a riddle, or the notion that it is ‘not setting up words and letters.’ The sūtra text has speech immediately after (manifesting the name of the dharma, making plain the surpassing function of the dharma), and not one sentence of that speech is lacking. The ‘observing’ here is a letting of what is realized come present in person first, so that the speech that follows has something to rest upon. Brought down to the ground: any dharma understood only upon the level of concepts has not yet reached the point this one shows; the sequence given in this stretch is realization in person first, name and word after.

Within Each Single Wall All the Tathāgatas Are Seen: The Proper Recompense Manifested Within the Dependent

Sudhana looked on, and what he saw was this: within each single wall, each single pillar, each single mirror, each single mark, each single figure, each single maṇi jewel, each single implement of adornment, each single golden bell, each single jeweled tree, each single jeweled image, each single jeweled necklace—eleven places—“he saw all the Tathāgatas of the Dharma realm, from the first arousing of the mind, cultivating the practice of a bodhisattva, fulfilling the great vows, holding merit complete, accomplishing perfect awakening, turning the wondrous Dharma wheel, and on to the display of entering nirvāṇa.”

There are two chief points. First, what appears is not one image of a Buddha but a Buddha's whole course: from the first arousing of the mind to the display of nirvāṇa, one whole road, all within a single bead. Second, this is the proper recompense manifested within the dependent recompense. Fazang sets it face to face precisely upon this: “in the text below, Samantabhadra's pores manifesting dust-fields and the rest is the proper recompense manifesting the dependent, while here it is the dependent recompense manifesting the proper; both are because the unobstructed Dharma realm is sovereignly free.”—that within Samantabhadra's pores there appear numberless fields is the proper recompense manifesting the dependent; that here within a house there appear the Buddhas is the dependent recompense manifesting the proper. One going forth and one returning, and both alike are the Dharma realm unobstructed. The first of the two senses Chengguan sets up in glossing the name of the dharma gate is just this principle: “one, that because prajñā illumines all dharmas, there is the proper within the dependent and there is the many within the one, and therefore the dependent recompense obtained is such that there is nothing it does not manifest.”

Brought down to the ground: the Huayan “within the one there is the many” is not a piece of dark talk; the sūtra text has given it a readable specimen—what you are looking at is a wall, and within the wall is the whole life of a Buddha.

As Pure Water Manifests the Host of Images: The Reflection Is the Fruit, the Roots of Goodness Are the Cause

“Reflected images such as these were, not one of them but appeared, as in pure water one universally sees the whole host of images of the sun, the moon, and the constellations in empty space; all of this is the power of the roots of goodness of the maiden Kindly Conduct in ages past.”

Look first at the simile. The water does not give birth to the sun and moon, and the sun and moon do not enter the water, and yet within the water the sun and moon are there distinctly—appearing, and with no coming and no going. So it is with the Buddhas that appear: the maiden did not make Buddhas, nor were the Buddhas carried into the palace from somewhere else. Fazang judges this stretch to have “the dharma, the simile, and the joining”—that is, first the dharma is stated (within each single one they are all seen), next the simile is set up (pure water manifesting images), and afterward the joining is made (all are by the power of that woman's roots of goodness). The forty-fascicle text uses both similes here, the mirror and the water, reading “as images within a mirror, and again as pure water, in which one universally sees empty space and the sun, the moon, and the constellations”—this is a variant in Prajñā's rendering and is not in the eighty-fascicle text; it is recorded here for reference.

Look next at the joining. The sūtra text deliberately assigns the cause of all this: it is the power of the roots of goodness of the maiden Kindly Conduct in ages past. Fazang names this “concluding the dharma by attaching it to a person, which is also concluding the fruit by way of the cause.” Set aside a misreading: seeing an inconceivable state and taking it for spiritual power or native gift. The sūtra text says plainly that it is the power of roots of goodness—a fruit brought on by a cause. Brought down to the ground: this one sentence is the guardrail of the whole stretch, for it ties a state that looks dark and far back, steadily, to a cause that can be cultivated.

The Name of the Dharma Gate: The Gate of the Universal Adornment of Prajñā-Pāramitā

Only after the looking is done does the maiden give the name: “Son of good family! This is the gate of the universal adornment of prajñā-pāramitā. At the places of as many Buddhas as thirty-six Gaṅgā-sands I sought and obtained this Dharma. Those Tathāgatas, each by a different gate, caused me to enter this gate of the universal adornment of prajñā-pāramitā; what one Buddha had expounded, the rest did not expound again.”

The two senses of the name Chengguan states plainly. The first: “because prajñā illumines all dharmas, there is the proper within the dependent and there is the many within the one, and therefore the dependent recompense obtained is such that there is nothing it does not manifest”—this is upon what is illumined, and it explains exactly the palace of the previous stretch. The second: “because the prajñā by which realizing is done already holds the adornment of all the perfections, what is realized and what is accomplished are likewise adorned without end”—prajñā does not arise alone; it already carries the adornment of giving, of keeping the precepts, and the other perfections, and so the state it accomplishes is likewise adorned without end. Fazang has another reading, judging it upon the position: “that within the answer it is named prajñā is because in the position of the tenth abode the perfection of knowledge is fulfilled,” and “as for the universal adornment, it is that function arises in dependence upon knowledge, and the virtues are held complete and round.” The two houses attach it to different places, and both are kept. Chengguan cites the Prajñā, “to understand form is prajñā, and all dharmas turn toward form,” in proof of the first sense. This one sentence has not had only one reading, and the Yanyi chao itself sets out three layers of it. The first is the intent of the Prajñā house: “if it be the intent of the Prajñā, it seems to hold that the nature of dharmas is not other than the nature of form, and therefore all turn toward form. Form is unobtainable, and the nature of dharmas is accordingly empty. There being nothing turned toward, how should there be anything that turns?”—the nature of dharmas is not other than the nature of form, and so it is said that all dharmas turn toward form; and form being unobtainable, the nature of dharmas is empty, and with nothing turned toward, nothing that turns is established either. The second is the intent of Zhizhe's house, which reads it upon the three contemplations: “if it be Zhizhe's intent, that all dharmas turn toward form is the provisional contemplation; that form is yet unobtainable is the contemplation of emptiness; and how should there be anything turned toward or not turned toward is the contemplation of the middle way.”—one sentence in three folds, the first fold the provisional, the middle fold emptiness, the last fold the middle way. The third is only what the present commentary takes: “the present commentary's intent requires only the first sentence, taking the nature of form as that on which all dharmas depend; and because the nature universally gathers them, all turn toward form.” These three layers are a division the Chao sets up for itself; they are not something said at one time in the sūtra, nor are they three houses disputing here. They are recorded and kept together, and no judgment is made as to higher or lower.—only the sentence “all dharmas turn toward form” is taken, the nature of form being that on which all dharmas depend, so that all dharmas come home to form; and where this comes to rest is “then within one form all dharmas are held complete, which is the sense of the non-obstruction of phenomenon and phenomenon, and so any single dharma gathers in the Dharma realm.” That within one form all dharmas are held complete is exactly why, in the previous stretch, all the Tathāgatas appear within each single thing of the palace.

The number thirty-six Gaṅgā-sands was likewise not said at random. Chengguan says, “as for the saying thirty-six Gaṅgā-sands: the stage of the abodes being fulfilled, within the six perfections each one holds the six, and hence thirty-six”—the six perfections hold one another, and six sixes are thirty-six. And why should the severalness of the thirty-six become only one gate? “Gathering in general the severalness of the thirty-six Gaṅgā-sands, it comes to rest in the universal gate, and then to adorn one is to adorn all, and so it is named universal adornment.” The Yanyi chao marks off a further layer here: the commentary's gloss upon this number is “only upon the signification,” that is, upon the sense of the six perfections holding one another; whereas “if it be glossed upon the phenomenon, it is as at the place of Resting and Relinquishing”—that is, as was already said at the place of the laywoman Resting and Relinquishing of the seventh abode. One and the same number, glossed once upon the sense and once upon the phenomenon: the Chao parts them and does not mix them. Li Tongxuan reads the number by yet another road. He takes it that “at the places of as many Buddhas as thirty-six Gaṅgā-sands I sought and obtained this Dharma sets out that the ten abodes, the ten practices, and the ten dedications are the thirty; and that the Dharma was sought and obtained at the places of Buddhas as many as six Gaṅgā-sands gathers in general the six positions”—fitting the thirty to the three worthy stages of the ten abodes, ten practices, and ten dedications, and the six to the six positions; and below this he takes it further, that “the hundred perfections do not go beyond the thirty-seven limbs of awakening, which serve as mutually participating helpers and companions; and they accomplish the six positions of the three worthy stages, the ten holy stages, and the equal and the wondrous awakenings—these together are named the gate of the universal adornment of prajñā-pāramitā sought at the places of as many Buddhas as thirty-six Gaṅgā-sands,” coming to rest in “it likewise signifies that all wisdom and liberation do not depart from the three emptinesses and the six perfections.” Chengguan sets his up upon the six perfections holding one another, Tongxuan upon the six positions gathered in general; what the two glosses attach to differs, and both are kept, with no judgment made.

The last sentence, “what one Buddha had expounded, the rest did not expound again,” is especially worth turning over: each Buddha drew her into the same gate by a different gate, and not one of them repeated another. Brought down to the ground: that good friends do not repeat one another is exactly the reason for visiting many; and that what is entered is one and the same gate is again the reason for not scattering oneself.

Asking Again, “What Is Its Objective Realm”: What Is Asked Is the Function

Sudhana did not stop at the name; he asked again: “Holy one! What is the objective realm of this gate of the universal adornment of prajñā-pāramitā?”

To ask the name and afterward ask the objective realm is the constant rule of visiting and study in this sūtra. The name is the place of entry; the objective realm is the function it opens. Chengguan outlines this stretch as ‘making plain the surpassing function of the dharma,’ and judges its answer as first general and afterward several: “two, from ‘Sudhana said to her’ onward, the manifesting of the surpassing function of the dharma: first the question, afterward the answer. Within the answer, first the general, and afterward, from ‘namely’ onward, the several.” The general is the mark of cultivation, tallying realization, and correspondence, together with the total retention obtained; the several are the hundred and more gates listed by name one after another below it. The Yanyi chao points out here a further general and several that runs across two sūtras: in the Sūtra of the Grounds there is only a general saying—“measureless hundreds of thousands of asaṃkhyeya dhāraṇī gates, and so likewise the gates of liberation and the gates of samādhi”—and again, “should there be any listing, it lists only ten of them”; whereas this stretch opens them severally, name by name, and so the Chao concludes, “here there are one hundred and eighteen gates of total retention, and therefore it is called several.” That sūtra speaks in general and does not list them out; this stretch lists them severally and exhausts their names: this is what the Chao means by the general set over against the several.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that to know the name of a dharma gate is to have obtained the dharma. The sūtra text uses one further question to part the name from the function—the name can be handed on, the function must be asked after and realized by oneself. Brought down to the ground: when hearing the name of a dharma gate stirs the mind, what should be asked next is exactly this sentence of Sudhana's.

One Hundred and Eighteen Gates: Why a Total Retention Must Open So Many

The sentence of the general answer is “when I entered this gate of the universal adornment of prajñā-pāramitā, complying with it and turning toward it, thinking upon it and observing it, bearing it in mind and discriminating it, I obtained the dhāraṇī of the universal gate, and a million asaṃkhyeya dhāraṇī gates were all of them present before me.” A dhāraṇī is total retention—retaining and not losing. Chengguan glosses the sense of the universal gate thus: “because she has obtained the universal adornment of prajñā, she is able to retain in general the myriad dharmas, and to retain one is to retain all, and so it is called the universal gate.” This is the key: it is not that a hundred and more matters were retained, but that one total retention was obtained and a hundred thousand gates were of themselves present. And so the sūtra text says “were all of them present,” and does not say that they were obtained one by one through cultivation.

Below this they are set out one by one by name, and counted word for word in the base text they come to one hundred and eighteen gates. Chengguan divides them into ten positions: the first eight gates know in general the dependent and the proper, principle and phenomena; the next nine set out vow and practice; the next nine set out karma; the next six set out the substance and function of right reception; the next five set out the defiled and pure minds; the next ten know the beings to be transformed; the next seventeen know what is able to transform; the next seventeen know sovereign freedom over the ocean of fields; the next twenty-five know sovereign freedom over the ocean of Buddhas; and the last twelve set out the cause and fruit of awakening. Look at this sequence: it begins from the objective realm known (fields, Buddhas, dharmas, beings, the three times), goes to one's own vows, practice, and karma, to the concentrated mind, to observing others, to observing worlds, to observing Buddhas, and comes to rest at last in the mind of awakening and the purity of one's own mind. It is a circle running from outside to inside, and from inside on to the ultimate.

There is a further layer. Within the ten positions the gates mostly stand in facing pairs, or else advance layer upon layer, each showing one function, and are not repetitions of one sense. The first eight set up what is known: “Buddha-fields,” “Buddhas,” “dharmas,” and “beings” are the matters known, while “the past,” “the future,” and “the present” are the times in which they are known, and the last, “the limit of constant abiding,” gathers them in—matter and time having been listed, a limit that does not shift is set to hold them fast. The next nine set out vow and practice, the cause: “merit” and “the equipment that assists merit”—the first is the merit accomplished, the second the equipment needed to accomplish it; “wisdom” and “the equipment that assists wisdom” run by the same rule, the one what is accomplished, the other the means of accomplishing; “the vows” and “discriminating the vows”—the one the vow made in general, the other the several articles within the vow; and below them “gathering the practices,” “pure practice,” and “fulfilled practice” are the three times of practice: gathering it, purifying it, and afterward fulfilling it. The next nine set out karma: “karma” and “karma that is not lost or destroyed”—the first speaks of the deed done, the second of the deed done not perishing; “the flowing on of karma” and “what karma accomplishes”—the one the unbroken continuing of karma, the other what it brings about; “relinquishing evil karma” and “cultivating right karma” are the one a withholding and the other a setting forth, and thereafter “sovereign freedom in karma” is to be free within karma and not dragged by it; and last, “good conduct” and “holding good conduct”—the one is doing it, the other holding it without loss. The next six set out concentration: “samādhi” is the substance of concentration, “complying with samādhi” the skillful means of entering it, “observing samādhi” the illumination within it, while “the objective realm of samādhi” and “rising from samādhi” are the realm faced upon entering concentration and the power of coming out of it, one entering and one rising, so that substance and function of concentration are both there; and last, “spiritual powers” is the function that concentration issues in. The next five set out the mind: “the ocean of the mind” says that the mind is deep and wide as an ocean, “minds of every kind” that its marks are many, “the straight mind” that its quality is unbent, “illumining the thicket of the mind” that the dense thicket within the mind is broken open by illumination, and “taming the mind to purity” that it is tamed and thereafter becomes pure—from wide, to mixed, to straight, to illumined, to pure: a sequence for governing the mind. The next ten know the beings to be transformed: “knowing whence beings are born” knows where they come from; “knowing the afflicted conduct of beings,” “knowing the habit-energies of the afflictions,” and “knowing the skillful means for the afflictions” know their sickness, the residue the sickness leaves, and the means of curing it; “knowing beings' understanding,” “knowing beings' conduct,” and “knowing that beings' conduct is not the same” know what they understand, what they do, and how their doing differs; and the last three, “knowing beings' nature,” “knowing beings' desire,” and “knowing beings' notions,” need parting most of all—nature is the stuff that is their own portion, desire is the direction of what they delight in, notions are the marks they take up at this moment; the three lie one deep, one midway, one shallow, and so they are not folded into one gate. The next seventeen know what is able to transform: “universally seeing the ten directions” is why the one who transforms first sees; “expounding the Dharma” is the proper business of transforming; “great compassion” and “great kindness” are what transforming rests upon; “stillness” is the place where one transforms and yet does not stir; “the way of speech” is the speech transforming relies upon; “the skillful and the unskillful in means” is knowing what may be used and what may not; “difference” stands over against “universal entry” and “universal pervasion,” the one speaking by discriminating, the other entering throughout without partition, while “the unobstructed limit” is to pervade and yet not be obstructed; and last, “the Buddha-dharma,” “the bodhisattva-dharma,” “the śrāvaka-dharma,” “the pratyekabuddha-dharma,” and “the worldly dharma” are the five layers of dharma known, from the worldly up to the Buddha, and the one who transforms must know them layer by layer. The next seventeen know sovereign freedom over the ocean of fields: “a world's coming to be,” “a world's breaking up,” and “a world's abiding” are the three marks of a field; “a pure world” and “a defiled world” are its two classes; “manifesting the pure within a defiled world” and “manifesting the defiled within a pure world”—the one showing purity within the foul so as to draw beings up, the other showing the foul within the pure so as to meet them where they are, and only the two together are the not being obstructed by pure or foul; “a wholly defiled world” and “a wholly pure world” are those two classes at their extreme; “a level world,” “an unlevel world,” “an overturned world,” and “a world like the net of Indra” are the shapes of fields; “a world's turning” is a field in motion; “knowing what is depended upon and where notions rest” knows what a field rests upon and where beings' notions abide; and “the fine entering into the coarse” and “the coarse entering into the fine”—the fine entering the coarse and the coarse entering the fine, two directions of one and the same principle of non-obstruction. The next twenty-five know sovereign freedom over the ocean of Buddhas, and the set upon the Dharma wheel shows the partings best: “the Buddha's Dharma wheel” is the wheel in general, “accomplishing the Buddha's Dharma wheel” is what it accomplishes, “a differentiated Buddha's Dharma wheel” and “an undifferentiated Buddha's Dharma wheel”—the one differing according to the capacities it reaches, the other without difference according to the principle it sets forth—“explaining the Buddha's Dharma wheel” is glossing its sense, and “turning the Buddha's Dharma wheel” is doing the deed; one general, four several, and all coming home to a single turning, so that the substance and function of the Dharma wheel are complete. Within the same set there are also “the samādhis of the Buddhas” and “the sovereign use within the samādhis of the Buddhas”—the one the concentration, the other its use within concentration; and “where the Buddhas abide” and “what the Buddhas sustain”—the one what the Buddha rests upon, the other what the Buddha upholds. The last twelve set out the cause and fruit of awakening: “the mind of awakening,” “raising the mind of awakening,” and “aiding the mind of awakening” are the substance of the mind, its arising, and the conditions that aid it; “the vows,” “the practices,” “spiritual powers,” and “going forth” are what is cultivated within the cause; “purity of total retention,” “purity of the wheel of knowledge,” and “purity of wisdom” are the three that are purified; “awakening without measure” says that its fruit is without measure; and it ends at “purity of one's own mind.” In reading through the long string, when two neighboring names stand facing each other, ask first where they differ: the difference is the function of that gate.

The last gate is “the dhāraṇī gate of the purity of one's own mind,” and here Chengguan gathers in the whole stretch: “the purity of one's own mind is precisely the awakening that is pure by nature, and the general gathering of all the gates does not go beyond this.” However widely the one hundred and eighteen gates are opened, the place where they gather is only the single gate of the purity of one's own mind. Set aside a misreading: the notion that total retention is a good memory, an ability to retain many things. Both the sūtra text and the commentary attach it to “to retain one is to retain all” and to “the purity of one's own mind”—it is not manyness, it is thoroughgoingness. Brought down to the ground: many as the gates are, all of them are gathered in by the single gate of the purity of one's own mind; in reading through this long list of names, the last sentence is where they gather—not that the hundred and seventeen before it have nothing to do with you, but that however widely they open, where they come home is the purity of one's own mind.

Humbling Herself and Deferring to the Superior: I Know Only This One Gate

From “Son of good family! I know only this gate of the universal adornment of prajñā-pāramitā” onward is the fixed form used by every good friend of this assembly. Chengguan writes only eight Chinese characters upon it: 「第四謙己推勝，可知。」 tr. “fourth, humbling herself and deferring to the superior—this may be known.”—the form being already settled, there is no need to gloss it much.

But the words of deferring to the superior are worth reading. Of the virtues of those bodhisattvas to whom she defers the sūtra text lists a long string, and within it two sentences matter most: “they practice the practices of the world and yet are not stained by the dharmas of the world; they are able to benefit the world and yet are not destroyed by the world”—acting within the world and yet not stained by the dharmas of the world, able to benefit the world and yet not broken by it. This is where the deferring of this stretch comes to rest: not that spiritual powers are vast, but that one is in the world and is not taken away by the world. Fazang judges the stretch of looking up and deferring to be three: deferring in general, manifesting severally in ten sentences, and concluding that it is not her own portion; and he further divides those ten sentences into five sections, naming what each sets out—“setting out the depth of the practice,” “setting out the breadth of wisdom,” “setting out that eye and knowledge are unobstructed,” “setting out the firmness of the practice,” “setting out sovereign freedom in gathering and transforming.” Read back upon the sentences of the base text, the virtues deferred to hold at least these layers: “they abide in the dharmas that go beyond the world and are far from the practices of the world”—abiding upon the out-of-the-world dharma and far from worldly practice, which is the depth of the practice; “their mind of wisdom is vast, like empty space”—wisdom widened until it is level with space, which is the breadth of wisdom; “their eye of knowledge is without film, and they universally observe the Dharma realm”—no membrane upon the eye of knowledge, and therefore it sees throughout, which is the non-obstruction of eye and knowledge (the film is the membrane that covers the eye: the eye is not ruined, it is veiled); “they obtain the great light-treasury of the unobstructed ground”—the ground they hold is unobstructed, like a treasury holding great light, which is the place upon which they rest; “they universally know the workings of the minds of all beings and expound the Dharma according to what suits them”—first knowing the workings of the mind, then speaking according to what suits, which is sovereign freedom in gathering and transforming. Read together, these show that “they practice the practices of the world and yet are not stained by the dharmas of the world” is not a stray sentence: they can be unstained because they abide in the dharmas that go beyond the world, and they can benefit the world because they know the workings of beings' minds and speak according to what suits.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that humbling oneself is a courtesy. The real use of this stretch is to send Sudhana further on—if this one were the summit, the visiting and studying would stop here. Brought down to the ground: to know that what one has obtained is only “this one gate” is the condition of walking on, not a belittling of oneself.

Pointing to the Next Friend: The Monk Well-Seeing of the Land of Three Eyes

“Son of good family! To the south of this place there is a land named Three Eyes; there is a monk there named Well-Seeing. Go to him and ask: how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva, and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”

Of the land named Three Eyes, Chengguan glosses this: “as for the land being named Three Eyes: giving is the head of the practices, and it further opens and guides both self and other, as the eye guides the remaining faculties, and so it is named an eye”—giving is the head of all the practices, and it is able to open and guide both self and other, as the eye guides the remaining faculties. As to the opening of the three eyes, he says it more finely still: “the giving of goods without attachment accomplishes the eye of wisdom, and the giving of fearlessness accomplishes the eye of kindness. The giving of Dharma opens the Dharma eye, and so it further says three.” The giving of goods, the giving of fearlessness, and the giving of Dharma—three kinds of giving, each accomplishing one eye. Note that this is Chengguan's gloss upon the name of the land, not something the sūtra text says of itself; the sūtra text gives only the name of a land. Li Tongxuan, glossing the same name of the land, sets up another set of three eyes: “as for the land being named Three Eyes: first the Dharma eye, second the eye of knowledge, third the eye of wisdom.” Their functions too each have their own charge: “it sets out that, in benefiting beings according to the world, the eye of knowledge observes the faculties, the Dharma eye knows dharmas, and the eye of wisdom decides between the right and the wrong. These three are one, and according to their use they are spoken of as three.”—the eye of knowledge sees whether the faculties are keen or dull, the Dharma eye recognizes which dharma a dharma is, and the eye of wisdom decides what is right and what is wrong; while the substance of the three eyes is only one, and it is according to its use that it is spoken of as three. Chengguan sets up the eye of wisdom, the eye of kindness, and the Dharma eye upon the giving of goods, the giving of fearlessness, and the giving of Dharma; Tongxuan sets up the Dharma eye, the eye of knowledge, and the eye of wisdom upon the three functions of observing the faculties, knowing dharmas, and deciding. The three that the two glosses set up do not carry the same names, and what they attach to differs as well; both are kept, and no judgment is made.

And the question pointed to carries on the same intent as the question Sudhana put to the maiden Kindly Conduct, while the wording is slightly contracted: what Sudhana asked her runs, in the Chinese, to fourteen characters—“how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva? how is a bodhisattva to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”—and what is here pointed to runs to twelve, “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva, and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”, one “how” fewer and the two joined into a single question. The sense asked after runs on unbroken, and so one question can carry all fifty-three visits. Brought down to the ground: the question does not change, the one who answers changes, and thereby the gate obtained changes; the whole structure of the fifty-three visits rests on this one point.

Gazing Up in Cherishing Longing, Taking Leave and Going On

The last sentence: “Then the youth Sudhana bowed to her feet, circled her numberless times, gazed up in cherishing longing, and took his leave and departed.”

The eighty-fascicle text here has the four Chinese characters 「戀慕瞻仰」 tr. “gazed up in cherishing longing,” which the sixty-fascicle text lacks, reading instead that he took his leave and journeyed south. These four characters write the looking back that is still going on while he walks. The completion of a stretch of visiting and study the sūtra text does not write as satisfaction or as a matter concluded; it writes it as cherishing longing—the Dharma has been obtained, and still one cannot bear to part. And the very next clause is the taking of leave. Brought down to the ground: cherishing longing and taking leave stand together within one sentence, and this is the constant condition of visiting and study—it is not that one can go because one does not linger, but that one lingers and goes all the same.

Lineage

For the text of this section, the streams that open out from it run in three lines.

The first is the line of the name. The eighty-fascicle text reads “the maiden Kindly Conduct,” and the sixty-fascicle text reads ‘the maiden Mitrā(ṇī)’; Fazang transmits two forms of her Sanskrit name and glosses them as “the kindly maiden” and “kindly and delivering to beings,” Zhiyan reads “the maiden is named Mitrā,” and in his Kongmu zhang the list of the names of the good friends gives “eleventh, the child of Mitrāṇī.” As to the name of the next friend, the eighty-fascicle text reads “Well-Seeing,” while both the sixty-fascicle text and the Kongmu zhang read “Well Manifest”; and as to the name of the land, the eighty-fascicle text reads “Three Eyes” and the sixty-fascicle text reads “Delivering.” The differing forms of a single name show precisely that the two translations each have their own source.

The second is the line of the position. Although this section belongs to the end of the ten abodes, the ancient worthies in reading it all look toward the ten grounds. Chengguan says, “because the ten abodes are in round fusion, it is likewise the same as the measureless hundreds of thousands of asaṃkhyeya dhāraṇī gates obtained upon the ten grounds,” and Fazang says, “because the objective realm and the position of the ten abodes and the ten grounds are the same, the dharmas obtained are likewise alike”—the two houses alike liken what is obtained in this position to the ten grounds. Li Tongxuan for his part looks to what comes before and after within this assembly, taking the laywoman Resting and Relinquishing of the seventh abode as “knowledge born from compassion” and this position as “compassion born from knowledge,” the two positions standing over against each other as one going forth and one returning. In his general gloss upon this position he further sets himself a question: since knowledge and compassion are already complete in this position, why is it not signified by a Buddha but by a king's daughter? His answer is “within these ten abodes, one abode is the ten abodes”—one position already holds the ten, and so what signifies it need not wait upon a Buddha to be complete. Upon the ten perfections he judges this position to take “the perfection of knowledge as host, and the remaining nine as companions,” and with that knowledge to cure “the obstruction of difference of before and after in cultivation and of knowledge and compassion being uneven.” He has besides a general rule for reading the standing of the good friends: “wherever a monk is seen, it signifies seeking the fruit of Buddhahood so as to adorn the practice of a bodhisattva; wherever a layman is seen, it sets out that seeking the practice of a bodhisattva does not depart from the fruit of Buddhahood”—the marks of leaving the household and of remaining in it each signify, for him, one side.

The third is the line of the sense, where the ancient worthies each take their own. In glossing the name of the dharma gate, Chengguan sets up two senses and brings them to rest in “to adorn one is to adorn all,” while Fazang sets his up upon the fulfilling of the perfection of knowledge in the tenth abode. As to the count of the gates, the base text counted name by name gives one hundred and eighteen, and Chengguan's number is the same; the Jin text counted name by name gives one hundred and seventeen, while Fazang and Zhiyan both read one hundred and sixteen, and Li Tongxuan, upon the eighty-fascicle text, reads one hundred and seventeen in his earlier text while later, glossing the general gathering of the number of gates, he brings forward separately “one hundred and seven dhāraṇī gates,” both numbers standing in his treatise and both recorded here unaltered; the forty-fascicle text counted name by name gives one hundred and forty-six. As to the division into ten positions, the places where Chengguan and Fazang begin their gates and the numbers they assign to them likewise differ from each other. As to the great outline of the section, Chengguan has six parts, Fazang five, Zhiyan three divisions, and Li Tongxuan opens it into twenty-two gates. What these several houses set up each has its own track; it is recorded, and no judgment is made as to higher or lower.

The forty-fascicle text, rendered by Prajñā, is again a line of its own in this stretch: the name of the city reads “the Lion's Yawn and Stretch,” its king “the king Fearless Star-Constellation Banner,” the next friend the monk “Wondrous Seeing,” and the land “Three Eyes”; the marks of entering the gate have several sentences more—“every bearing it holds,” “every aspect it holds,” “every realizing entry it holds”—and its gates counted name by name come to one hundred and forty-six. The dividing and joining of the gate names shows it best: the base text has only one gate of the overturned world, the sixty-fascicle text reads a gate of worlds turned over, and the forty-fascicle text divides it into three—overturned worlds, upturned worlds, and worlds set on their side. So much do the three translations differ in fullness and in division upon one and the same stretch of sūtra text—when one text seems too brief or too full at some point, the other two are ready evidence at hand.

In the text of one section, the first half is a looking and the latter half a speaking. Only when it has been seen is there a name; only when there is a name can the objective realm be asked after—the whole sequence of this stretch of the maiden Kindly Conduct rests upon that one sentence, “You should observe the adornment of my palace.”

A New Great Section Begins Here

The first ten good friends were the ten abodes. At the monk Well-Seeing, a great section changes over. Chengguan's outline sets up a new great division of the text here, saying, “the third great division, from Well-Seeing onward, has ten good friends, assigned to the ten positions of practice, one person to each position,” and judges the present section, “first, the monk Well-Seeing, assigned to the joyful practice; the text likewise has six parts”—the joyful practice being the first of the ten practices.

One thing has to be made plain: “assigned to the positions of the ten practices” and “assigned to the joyful practice” are both outline judgments Chengguan carries on from the ancient worthies, and the sūtra text itself has no such names of position. Sudhana does not walk to some station and get told, ‘you have now entered the ten practices.’ The names of position are road signs later people set up for the reader; they are not house numbers the sūtra text reports of itself. Chengguan himself speaks with great evenness in a stretch on the outline of this assembly and chapter: “both have their reason, that is to say, since each and every position is complete with many dharma gates, how could it be that the mind of an ordinary person is not to practise and seek the dharma of a good friend, and therefore not to match them has its reason. Yet within there being no sequence of positions there is no obstruction to the sequence of positions, and to display the positions is the regular rule, so that to match them likewise has no fault.”—both the loose gloss and the matching to positions have their reason, and to match them does not obstruct their not being a sequence.

What then does this road sign point to? It points to a turn between the present section and the ten sections before it. The ten abodes before were weighted toward understanding and realization; from here on, the ten sections are weighted toward practice. And for the first lesson of practice, what the sūtra text gives is a picture that does not look at all like a ‘great dharma’: a man walking back and forth in a wood.

Brought down to the ground: in reading this section, first set the three words ‘the joyful practice’ aside, and look at how the sūtra text opens of itself—it does not open with an exposition of the Dharma, it opens with Sudhana being mindful the whole way along the road.

What the Last Station Gave Has to Be Carried the Whole Way

The first paragraph of this section does not write of walking; it writes of being mindful. Sudhana “pondered that the practice in which a bodhisattva abides is profound,” and then thirteen sentences follow one upon another, every sentence opening with “pondered” and closing with “profound.”

Why be mindful? Because what the previous good friend, the maiden Kindly Conduct, displayed is not the sort of thing that can be taken in by hearing it once. The sūtra text makes this plain with one word—profound. Deep means that it cannot be taken to the bottom on the spot; and what cannot be taken to the bottom can only be carried along the road.

Chengguan judges these thirteen sentences, saying, “the first is the general, and the rest are the particular”—the first sentence, “the practice in which a bodhisattva abides is profound,” is the general, and the twelve sentences below it are the particular. This judgment matters: the thirteen sentences are not thirteen matters set side by side, but one matter opened out into twelve faces. Since the practice in which he abides is deep, then the Dharma that practice realizes, the place that practice enters, the beings that practice faces, and the Dharma realm that practice adorns—there is not one of them that is not deep.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that “profound” is a word of praise, to be read past and done with. It is in fact a sentence of judgment—a judgment that one has not yet oneself reached the bottom. Brought down to the ground: what turns over within the mind along that stretch of road after leaving a good friend decides what can be seen at the next station.

The First Two of the Particular: Where the Depth of a Bodhisattva Lies

Of the twelve sentences of the particular, Chengguan divides three layers. The first layer, of two sentences, speaks of depth in terms of the bodhisattva.

Of the first sentence, “the Dharma a bodhisattva realizes is profound,” Chengguan attaches the reason for its being said, “one, what is realized is the Dharma realm, because it is true right upon the thing itself”—what is realized is the Dharma realm, and the Dharma realm is not some true thing apart from things; it is true right upon the thing, and therefore it is hard. Were the true outside of things, it would rather be easy to expound; it is just because it is true right upon the thing that there is nowhere to take hold.

Of the second sentence, “the place a bodhisattva enters is profound,” Chengguan says, “two, entering the knowledge of the bodhisattva grounds, because it answers only to realization”—what is entered is the knowledge of the bodhisattva grounds, and this sort of knowledge can be answered to only by realization, and cannot be answered to by understanding. Whatever can be entered only by realization and not by understanding is in the end profound.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that “deep” means difficult in content and thick with technical terms. The depth these two sentences speak of is not being hard to understand; it is not being within the compass of understanding at all. Brought down to the ground: when in study you meet a place you cannot think through however you try, first tell apart whether you have not read enough, or whether it was never on the road of reading to begin with.

The Next Seven of the Particular: Where the Depth of Beings Lies

The second layer, of seven sentences, speaks of depth wholly in terms of beings. This is the longest layer among the thirteen sentences, and also the layer most easily skipped by readers—the common notion being that what is deep is the Buddha, not beings.

Chengguan attaches the reason sentence by sentence. Of “the subtle knowledge of beings is profound,” he says, “one, because the classes of their recompense are hard to know”—the classes of recompense of beings differ in a thousand ways, and are hard to know exhaustively. Of “the world abides in dependence upon thinking is profound,” he says, “two, deluded thinking is the cause, which is to say it is without own-nature”—the world abides in dependence upon deluded thinking, and deluded thinking itself has no own-nature. Of “the practices beings perform are profound,” he says, “three, the deeds and practices of the defiled portion, because only a Buddha knows them”—the deeds and practices of the defiled portion are that portion which the afflictions raise and which deeds perfume into being; and of one and the same act, out of what mind it arises, what seed it perfumes, and what fruit it calls forth, the windings between are not to be seen from outside. Chengguan attaches the depth of this sentence to ‘only a Buddha knows’: it is not that it is hard to understand, but that only a Buddha can know its beginning and end exhaustively. Of “the pouring stream of the thoughts of beings is profound,” he says, “four, the consciousness of ripening that is called forth, whether as seed or as active, turns on constantly like a stream and cannot be known”—the continuity of mind is like a stream, and whether in the position of the seed or in that of the active, it cannot be known. Of “beings are like light and shadow is profound,” he says, “five, the reflected images that are transformed forth, whether inner or outer, because their conditions are without own-nature”—the reflected images transformed forth, whether the object they depend on is inner or outer, all appear from a gathering of conditions. Chengguan attaches the depth to ‘the conditions are without own-nature’: since what is taken as condition has no own-nature, the image that appears has no substance one could point to—like light and shadow, which can be seen and not caught. Of “the names of beings are profound,” he says, “six, because a name has not the power to get hold of the thing, and yet does not lose the thing that is named”—a name cannot truly get hold of that thing, and yet it does not lose the thing that is named. Of “the speech of beings is profound,” he says, “seven, because letters and speech are all of them liberation”—this sentence is the easiest to read past. It does not say that letters must first be broken through and liberation obtained afterward; it says that letters and speech are themselves liberation. Letters have no own-nature; the speaker does not reach the reality of what is spoken, nor is the hearer bound by what is heard; right in letters one is apart from letters, and so Chengguan says straight out that they are all of them liberation.

Take note: the consciousness of ripening, seed and active, the reflected images that are transformed forth—these are the words of the treatise masters that Chengguan uses, and are not the letter of this passage of this sūtra. The sūtra text says only the two Chinese characters rendered “profound”; the attached reasons are Chengguan's supplement.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that only seeing the suffering of beings counts as compassion, and that seeing the depth of beings does not. The sūtra text gives all seven sentences to beings—if one cannot know the depth of beings, then what is called delivering beings is only delivering the being one has imagined. Brought down to the ground: facing one particular person, first admit that you do not know him, and this one sentence begins to be of use.

The Last Three of the Particular: Taking the Two Sides of Defiled and Pure Together

The third layer, of three sentences, Chengguan says is “taking the foregoing text together and distinguishing it”—taking the two sides, the one in terms of the bodhisattva (the pure portion) and the one in terms of beings (the defiled portion), and speaking of them together.

Of “the adorning of the Dharma realm is profound,” Chengguan says, “one, because the two portions, the defiled and the pure, both adorn the Dharma realm and yet there is no adorning”—both the defiled and the pure portions are adorning the Dharma realm, and the Dharma realm gains nothing added thereby. Of “the planting of deeds and practices is profound,” he says, “two, because the deeds of the above two portions do not know each other”—the deeds of the two portions do not know each other. Of “the world adorned by deeds is profound,” he says, “three, because each adorns its own world, pure or defiled, and the fruits of recompense are not lost, which is to say it is the same as the true.”

The three sentences told, Chengguan gathers them with one concluding sentence: “taking the above two portions together, they are all the universal adorning of prajñā-pāramitā, and this is why he ponders them.” The two portions, defiled and pure, are alike the universal adorning of wisdom—this is the reason Sudhana is to ponder the whole way along.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that cultivation is removing the defiled half and keeping the pure half. These three sentences say precisely the reverse: both portions are adorning the Dharma realm, both do not lose their fruits of recompense, and both are the same as the true. Brought down to the ground: there is no need to wait until you are clean to begin practising; practice is itself within these two portions.

Why He Must Go to the Markets and the Neighbourhoods to Look for a Good Friend

Only after being mindful does he walk. The sūtra text says that he “journeyed on in due order until he came to the land of Three Eyes,” and then, in “walled towns and settlements, villages and neighbourhoods, markets and shops, river plains and mountain valleys, in every place,” searched everywhere for the monk Well-Seeing.

A monk, and the man is in a wood—why must one look in the markets and the shops? Chengguan puts down one sentence upon just this point: “two, going on to seek the next friend. That he seeks in the markets and the like, place after place, displays that cultivation according to conditions is in no place absent.” To seek in every place is to display that cultivation does not pick and choose its place—the path is not lodged only in some one kind of place.

Of the land's name, Three Eyes, Li Tongxuan sets up another gloss, saying, “the land is named Three Eyes: one, the Dharma eye; two, the eye of knowledge; three, the eye of wisdom,” and further, “the eye of knowledge contemplates the faculties, the Dharma eye knows the Dharma, and the eye of wisdom settles what is right and what is wrong. These three are one, and are spoken of as three according to their functions.” Three eyes are fundamentally one eye, and are spoken of as three according to their function. This is Li Tongxuan's rule of signification; the sūtra text gives only the name of the land and does not gloss it.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that in seeking the Dharma one must find a pure place. The first group of place-names the sūtra text lists is precisely walled towns, neighbourhoods, and markets. Brought down to the ground: the one who can look in the market is the one who is really looking.

Seeing the Surpassing Marks of His Body: Why the Marks of a Buddha Are Set upon a Monk

He found him. The sūtra text writes what was seen: “he saw him in a wood, walking back and forth, in the prime of his years, fair of countenance, upright and pleasing to see,” and below that a long stretch of the marks and signs—hair deep blue-black, a fleshy cowl on the crown, skin the colour of gold, three lines on the neck, a broad and level brow, eyes like a blue lotus flower, lips like a bimba fruit, the svastika set on the chest, the seven places full and level, slender and long arms, webbed fingers, vajra wheels in the palms.

Most of these are the marks of a Buddha. Set upon the body of a monk, what does it mean? Chengguan gives two sentences: “that he is seen in a wood is because this is the beginning of practice. That he is the same as the Buddha in his marks is because, cultivating the practice as it is expounded, he accords with the fruit of Buddhahood.” That he is seen in a wood is because this place is the opening of practice; that his marks are the same as a Buddha's is because, cultivating as it has been expounded, he accords with the marks of the fruit of Buddhahood.

Put otherwise: this stretch of the marks and signs is not writing of how adorned this man is; it is writing of where “practice” leads in the end. At the head of the ten practices, the fruit-marks of practice are given out first—he accords with the fruit of Buddhahood, and therefore manifests the marks of a Buddha.

Li Tongxuan reads this stretch not in terms of according with the fruit of Buddhahood, but attaches to each mark in turn the deeds of recompense it comes of: that his hair is deep blue-black and curls to the right is what is born of the recompense of a pure mind and correct practice; the fleshy cowl on his crown is the recompense of knowledge being high and virtue full; his skin's being the colour of gold is summoned by the deeds and recompense of knowledge being pure, the mind at ease, and of benefiting things with kindness and compassion; the three lines on his neck are the recompense issuing from not speaking falsely; his brow's being broad and level is the recompense of knowledge being wide and reaching far; his eyes like a blue lotus flower are obtained by the recompense of knowledge and compassion and kindness; his lips like a bimba fruit are the recompense of taking knowledge as the sun and the mouth as the gate for expounding the Dharma, so that the right Dharma can be set forth; his arms' being slender and long is the deed of recompense born of drawing in and bringing to good; the webbing between his fingers is the deed of recompense born of straining beings out with the teaching; the vajra wheels in his palms are the fruit of deeds born of turning the wheel of the Dharma and benefiting beings.

The difference between the two tracks lies in which way they run between cause and fruit: Chengguan speaks from the fruit—he is the same as the Buddha in his marks because, cultivating the practice as it is expounded, he accords with the marks of the fruit of Buddhahood; Li Tongxuan speaks from the cause—each mark has the deeds of practice it comes of. Put together, they are complete: this stretch is at once the fruit-mark toward which practice heads and the present measure of practice already accomplished. So listing mark after mark is no elaboration; it is taking ‘practice’ apart and setting it out one item at a time.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the marks and signs are a literary elaboration. Had the sūtra text only wanted to say that he was good to look upon, two sentences would have been enough, without listing mark after mark. Brought down to the ground: to know where the practice one cultivates is heading, and what it has come of, is to find that this stretch is no ornament.

Fourteen Marks and Sixteen Marks: A Small Joint in the Numbers

At the end of the stretch of marks and signs, the sūtra text says, “the various marks and the signs that follow upon them were all of them complete.” Chengguan counts here: “as for saying the various marks and the signs that follow upon them, above only fourteen were listed, and therefore he concludes them all together. That the eyes gazed and did not blink and that the round light was a fathom are two further marks, so that sixteen in all are listed; the rest will be glossed at the place of Gopā.”

The sense is: what is actually listed above is fourteen marks, and therefore “the various marks and the signs that follow upon them were all of them complete” concludes them; while the “eyes gazed and did not blink” and the “round light a fathom” that follow are two further marks, making sixteen listed in all; and the remaining marks are to be glossed at Gopā, a section further on in this chapter.

Two things in this small joint are worth looking at. First, Chengguan reads the sūtra counting mark by mark—he is unwilling to read “the various marks and the signs that follow upon them” as one sweeping word of praise. Second, he plainly pushes what is not exhausted here forward to a later text, and does not make up the number on the spot.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the ancient worthies in glossing sūtras seek completeness everywhere. Here Chengguan on the contrary says plainly, “the rest will be glossed at the place of Gopā”—what ought to be left open is left open. Brought down to the ground: to note a place you cannot read through and look for it later is more honest than making up a gloss on the spot.

Whether Sinking or Lifting, Whether Knowledge or Not Knowledge: Even the Twofold Negation Must Be Sent Away Again

After the marks and signs, the text turns to the marks of his mind. The sūtra text writes it most singularly—it does not say from the positive side what is within his mind, but says only what has come to rest: “his wisdom was vast, like a great sea; toward the various objective realms there was no stirring within his mind, whether sinking or lifting, whether knowledge or not knowledge, the stirring and the frivolous talk, all of it had come to rest.”

Upon this one sentence Chengguan sets up a gloss of stopping and contemplation carried on together: “that is, stopping and contemplation carried on together. When stopping is in excess there is sinking, and when knowledge is in excess there is lifting; when there is neither sinking nor lifting, then right reception appears; when there is neither knowledge nor folly, then both answer to the Middle Way.” If stopping goes too far it sinks, and if the knowledge of contemplation goes too far it lifts; with neither sinking nor lifting, right reception then appears.

And he pushes it down one layer further: “to raise a thought of stopping or of contemplation is in both cases to become a stirring; and the twofold negation, sent away again, has not yet left frivolous talk behind. Though stopping and contemplation be carried on together, only when there is quiescent illumining without a mind does all of it come to rest.”—so long as one raises a thought in order to ‘stop’ or to ‘contemplate,’ that is already a stirring; even to set up a twofold negation, ‘neither stopping nor contemplation,’ is still the last of the four propositions, the slander of frivolous talk; and even when this twofold negation is itself sent away again (‘sent away again’), one has still not left frivolous talk behind. Only at quiescent illumining without a mind does all of it truly come to rest.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that cultivating concentration is tuning the mind to just the right position. What the sūtra text speaks of is not a position; it is that even the act of tuning has come to rest. Brought down to the ground: to find that you are very strenuously ‘holding still’ is to be still within the stirring.

Neither Slow nor Swift, Walking Back and Forth with Careful Discernment

At the end of the stretch on the marks of his mind, the sūtra text returns to action: “because he wished to benefit and give ease to all beings, because he wished to open and show the Dharma eye of the Tathāgata, because he wished to tread the road along which the Tathāgata has gone, he walked back and forth, neither slow nor swift, with careful discernment.”

It has just been said that “all of it had come to rest,” and here he is at once walking. This is the most important contrast in the section. Chengguan joins the two sides, saying, “because he wished to tread the road along which the Tathāgata has gone: the road he treads is itself the dharma gate”—the road trodden is the dharma gate itself; it is not that there is first a dharma gate and then feet are brought to walk it.

The four Chinese characters rendered “neither slow nor swift” are likewise not a description of a handsome gait. They are the same figure of speech as “neither sinking nor lifting” above: slow is the mark of sinking, and swift is the mark of lifting. With neither sinking nor lifting in the mind, there is neither slowness nor swiftness underfoot.

Li Tongxuan reads “walking back and forth in a wood” along a different track, saying, “it makes clear his entering birth-and-death to deliver beings, causing all beings to obtain the bliss of the world-transcending nirvāṇa. And further causing them not to abide in nirvāṇa, but to raise the vow of great compassion and enter into birth-and-death”—going is entering birth-and-death, returning is leaving birth-and-death, and the going and returning that never cease are what is named walking back and forth.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that quiescence and practice are two stretches of time, sitting first and rising after. The sūtra text puts them within one and the same action of one and the same man. Brought down to the ground: to test your own stillness, see whether it can walk.

Eleven Ranks of Gods, Each Doing One Thing

The stretch on the circumstantial reward lists eleven rows of gods, and each row carries only one deed: the gods of the directions “turned with the directions and led the way before him,” the gods that walk at the feet “held up jewelled lotus flowers to receive his feet,” the god Inexhaustible Light “spread out light and broke up the darkness,” the wood god Jambu Banner “rained down every sort of mingled flower,” the earth god Unmoving Treasury “brought forth every sort of jewel treasury,” the space god Universal Light “adorned empty space,” the god Ocean of Accomplished Virtue “rained down maṇi jewels,” the Sumeru mountain god Stainless Treasury “bowed his head in reverence and bent his body with palms joined,” the wind god Unobstructed Power “rained down fine and fragrant flowers,” the night goddess Spring Harmony “adorned her own body and cast her whole body to the ground,” and the day goddess Ever Awake “held a maṇi banner that illumines every quarter and, dwelling in empty space, sent forth a great light.”

Take note that this ‘eleven’ is eleven rows and not eleven individuals—‘the gods of the directions’ and ‘the gods that walk at the feet’ are the general appellations of a class, so that what the sūtra text lists is eleven rows of attendants, not eleven persons.

Take note of how names answer to deeds: what Inexhaustible Light does is to spread out light, what Unmoving Treasury does is to bring forth treasuries, what Universal Light of empty space does is to adorn empty space—whatever is in the name is what is done. But not all eleven rows are like this: what the Sumeru mountain god Stainless Treasury does is to bow his head in reverence and bend his body with palms joined, what the wind god Unobstructed Power does is to rain down fine and fragrant flowers, and what the night goddess Spring Harmony does is to adorn her own body and cast her whole body to the ground—in these three the name and the deed do not answer to each other.

Chengguan puts down only one sentence upon this stretch: “third, from ‘measureless’ onward makes clear the attendants; it is not that they have no signification, but for fear of prolixity it is not expounded.”—it is not that there is no sense of signification to be told, but that for fear of prolixity he does not tell it one by one. This is an honest sentence: he knows there is sense to be told, and he says plainly that he is not telling it.

Li Tongxuan, for his part, does not shrink from the prolixity, and attaches to each row its signification: that the gods of the directions turn with the directions and lead the way before him signifies that the Dharma has no fixed mark—the Dharma turns with the faculties and capacities of beings, and since the directions have no fixed mark, neither has the Dharma; that the gods that walk at the feet hold up flowers to receive his feet signifies practice that is no practice; that Inexhaustible Light spreads out light and breaks up the darkness is the breaking up of delusion with the light of the teaching; that the wood god Jambu Banner rains down mingled flowers is the drawing in of beings with broad and many good words and manifold practices, causing them to abide in the fragrant flowers of precepts, concentration, and wisdom; that the earth god Unmoving Treasury brings forth treasuries is the practice of meditative concentration, which is able to bring forth the jewel treasury of wisdom; that the space god Universal Light adorns empty space is the contemplating and illumining of dharmas with right knowledge and the adorning of the emptiness of dharmas, raising the knowledge of differences and practising the practices of difference without leaving the emptiness of dharmas; that the god Ocean of Accomplished Virtue rains down maṇi jewels is the accomplishing, with the great vows of Samantabhadra, of the virtue of great kindness and compassion, raining down the rain of the Dharma everywhere for the benefit of beings; that the Sumeru mountain god bows his head and bends his body with palms joined is the practice of humbling oneself, leaving pride behind, and paying reverence; that the wind god Unobstructed Power rains down fragrant flowers is the unobstructed power of all manner of good speech—gentle speech, respectful speech, selfless speech, harmonious and glad speech, on to speech of praise; that the night goddess Spring Harmony adorns her body and casts it to the ground is her dwelling, kindly and compassionate, harmonious and glad, in the night of birth-and-death, causing those who see her to rejoice and give rise to roots of good; that the day goddess Ever Awake holds the banner and sends forth light is the fundamental knowledge of the emptiness of dharmas illumining beings and delivering them with the knowledge of differences, bringing them to liberation.

This track of Li Tongxuan's unties the difficulty of the three rows above where name and deed did not answer to each other: what the Sumeru mountain god does is to pay reverence, because what is signified was never the mountain but the practice of humbling oneself and leaving pride behind; what the wind god does is to rain flowers, because what is signified is speech—good speech is like wind, and where it reaches fragrant flowers fall of themselves. Where name and deed do not answer to each other, it need not be a misplacing; it may only be that the signification does not lie in the name.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this stretch is display. It is in fact telling one thing: that one man is only walking in a wood, while heaven and earth and all the kinds are each in their own place doing their work around him. Brought down to the ground: walk far enough, and the helping conditions come of themselves and are not sought.

Sudhana Asks the Same One Sentence

He saw, he paid respect, and then he asked. Sudhana “bowed to the feet of him, bent his body with palms joined,” addressed him as “holy one,” said, “I have already brought forth the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi and seek the practice of a bodhisattva,” and then asked: “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva? How is he to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”

What Sudhana asks of the good friends is broadly the same one sentence. As regards the present section, Sudhana here asks it as “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva? How is he to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”, while Well-Seeing, in pointing to the next friend, repeats it as “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”—the same question, with words added and words dropped.

Why does he not change it? Because to change it would no longer be visiting for study; it would be collecting. If he asked each one a new question, what he would get is a heap of answers; asking the same question, what he gets is the differing depth of one and the same matter at more than fifty positions.

And the one sentence of self-report before the question matters too—“I have already brought forth the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi.” He first makes plain where he stands, and only then asks the road. To ask the road without reporting where one is leaves the answerer nothing to point at. Li Tongxuan reads this sentence of self-report not in terms of before and after but in terms of the very body of bodhi: Sudhana brought forth the mind of bodhi already at his first meeting with Mañjuśrī, and what was brought forth is the body of bodhi itself, in which from the first there is no practice and no cultivation, no seeking, no obtaining, and no attesting; and just because it is so in its body, it falls neither into having sought, going to seek, or now seeking, nor into having brought forth, going to bring forth, or now bringing forth—it is by going out beyond the mind of these three times that it is named having brought forth the mind of unsurpassed right awakening.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that Sudhana comes to seek a new dharma gate. He is taking the same question to measure how far he himself has walked. Brought down to the ground: to hold fast the one question that is truly yours is of more use than asking ten questions.

“I Am Young in Years, and I Went Forth from the Household Not Long Ago”: This Is Not Modesty

Well-Seeing opens with two sentences of self-report: “I am young in years, and I went forth from the household not long ago.”

Read as a modest formula, they are read away. Chengguan glosses them straight in terms of position: “now the first, divided in three: first the general preface. Because he has only now entered the position of practice, it says young in years; that he has only now left the household of the ten abodes is named going forth from the household.” Young in years, because he has only now entered the ten practices; gone forth from the household, because he has only just left the household of the ten abodes.

This one judgment fastens the present section firmly to the head of the ten practices. Young in years is not small in age, it is new in position; going forth from the household is not shaving the head, it is leaving the former position and entering the latter. So these two sentences are in fact one self-report of position—the same form as Sudhana's self-report before his question, “I have already brought forth the mind of awakening.”

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a good friend who says he is young and lately gone forth is being polite. The sūtra text goes on at once to say that he has cultivated pure conduct at the places of Buddhas as many as thirty-eight Gaṅgā's sands—were it politeness, this sentence would contradict it. Brought down to the ground: what is called “new” is said with respect to this one position; however old one may be at the former position, on entering a new position one is a new student still.

“Within This One Life of Mine”: How Can One Life Hold Thirty-Eight Gaṅgā's Sands of Buddhas

After the self-report comes a hard place: he says, “within this one life of mine, I have cultivated pure conduct at the places of Buddhas as many as thirty-eight Gaṅgā's sands.” Within one life, how can he pass through so many Buddhas?

Chengguan brings out two senses: “further, as to his lately saying ‘this life of mine,’ there are roughly two senses: one, because a single thought and the kalpas interfuse, as is expounded at the place of Supreme Fearless Voice; two, to display that it is the birth of entering understanding-and-practice, and not the birth of seeing-and-hearing.” The first sense is in terms of time—a single thought and many kalpas contain each other, and so one life can contain the cultivation of many kalpas; and he says plainly that this principle has already been expounded in this sūtra at the section on the seer Supreme Fearless Voice, and is not expounded again here. The second sense is in terms of the word “birth”—this life means the birth of the position of understanding-and-practice, not the birth of the position of seeing-and-hearing.

And for the number thirty-eight, Chengguan likewise gives an attached reason: “that he made offerings to thirty-eight Gaṅgā sands is because it passes beyond the former position.” The sense of the number lies in its passing beyond the former position, not in thirty-eight itself. Li Tongxuan sets up another track for this number: he takes the ten abodes, the ten practices, and the ten dedications as “thirty items of dharma evenly attuning knowledge and compassion,” and so says thirty, and because it “does not depart from the gate of practice of the eightfold right path” it becomes thirty-eight; he brings up besides the girl Compassionate Practice before this, told as thirty-seven Gaṅgā sands, standing for the practice of the three worthy stations and the seven limbs of awakening, while this one, being thirty-eight, has advanced onward to the eightfold right path. Chengguan attaches the number to passing beyond the former position, Li Tongxuan to the thirty items of dharma with the eightfold right path added—the two glosses stand together, each with its own rule.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this is a hyperbole of speech. Both the sūtra text and the commentary treat it as a real sense, and each gives a reason that holds. Brought down to the ground: when you read a quantity that goes beyond common sense, first ask whether it is speaking of time or of position.

From One Day and One Night to Unspeakably Unspeakable Great Kalpas

In the stretch on the times cultivated, the sūtra text sets the short and the long side by side and runs them down: one day and one night, seven days and seven nights, half a month, a month, a year, a hundred years, ten thousand years, a koṭi of years, a nayuta of years, and on to unspeakably unspeakable years; then one small kalpa, half a great kalpa, one great kalpa, a hundred great kalpas, and on to unspeakably unspeakable great kalpas.

The force of this stretch lies in the two Chinese characters rendered “side by side.” The cultivation of one day and one night and the cultivation of unspeakably unspeakable great kalpas are put into the same string and headed by the same “at the places of some Buddhas”—the sūtra text does not say that only the long ones count.

Take note of the sentence form: the first three joints of the stretch of years open with “at the places of some Buddhas” (one day and one night · seven days and seven nights · from half a month on), while the four joints of the stretch of kalpas read “at some one small kalpa, at some half a great kalpa, at some one great kalpa, at some a hundred great kalpas,” no longer attaching the words “the places of Buddhas.” What the stretch of years tells apart lies not in him but in the places of the Buddhas; it is not that he was sometimes lax and sometimes vigorous, but that the conditions he met with were each of them different.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a long time of cultivation is what gives it weight. The sūtra text puts one day and one night in the first place. Brought down to the ground: the conditions one meets with are long or short, and their length is not one's own to settle; the portion that ought to be cultivated is one's own to settle.

Hearing · Receiving and Carrying Out · Adorning · Entering · Purely Cultivating · Fulfilling

After the times comes what the sūtra text says he did at the places of those Buddhas: “I heard the wondrous Dharma, received and carried out their teaching, adorned every sort of vow, entered the place that is realized, purely cultivated every sort of practice, and fulfilled the ocean of the six kinds of pāramitā.”

The six actions are one line. First hearing, then receiving and carrying out—to hear and not to carry out is to break the line at the first place; carrying out, and then adorning every sort of vow—only after long practice do the vows become adorned; the vows adorned, and then entering the place that is realized; only having entered is there anything to speak of in purely cultivating every sort of practice; and last, “fulfilled the ocean of the six kinds of pāramitā.”

Take note of the word “ocean” in the last sentence. Of the six perfections it says not “fulfilled the six pāramitās” but “the ocean of the six kinds of pāramitā”—each single perfection is an ocean, and so the sense of fulfilling is not that they have been finished, but that they have been carried deep and wide to the bottom. Li Tongxuan points out here why six perfections only are spoken of: “this makes plain that the path that goes beyond the world fulfils the six pāramitās, while the remaining four—skilful means, vow, power, and knowledge—are for entering birth-and-death and accomplishing the practice of great compassion”—the six are the path that goes beyond the world, and means, vow, power, and knowledge are the practice of entering birth-and-death and accomplishing great compassion; this friend appears in the mark of a monk, and so six perfections only are told and not the ten pāramitās.

Chengguan judges this joint to belong to the first portion within “the benefit accomplished by what is done,” saying it is “first, cultivating for himself the vows, the knowledge, and the practice”—this whole string is still his own cultivation, and has not yet come to the fruit of Buddhas seen or the cause of Buddhas known.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that hearing is the shallowest rung and may be passed over. The sūtra text puts it in the first place, and the five matters after it all rise from it. Brought down to the ground: these six acts can be examined one by one against oneself, to see at which link one breaks off.

I Also See Their Fruit, and I Also Know Their Cause

His own cultivation told, the sūtra text turns out two sentences of “also”: “I also saw those Buddhas accomplish the path and expound the Dharma, each and every one distinct and without confusion, upholding the teaching they left behind, on to its coming to an end. I also know the great vows those Buddhas originally raised,” and below that three powers.

Chengguan judges these two sentences, saying, “next, seeing the working of the fruit; last, knowing the cause the Buddhas cultivated”—the former “also” is seeing the working of the fruit of the Buddhas, and the latter “also” is knowing the cause the Buddhas cultivated.

In the sentence on seeing the working of the fruit, take note of the eight Chinese characters rendered “each and every one distinct and without confusion.” The Buddhas accomplish the path and expound the Dharma each differently, and yet they are not confused with one another; and it goes further, to “upholding the teaching they left behind, on to its coming to an end”—even how long the teaching of one Buddha is upheld, and when it comes to an end, is within what is seen. This is not a seeing that looks on at a spectacle; it is a seeing that sees clearly the whole span of one period of the Buddha's Dharma.

The sentence on knowing the cause cultivated lists three powers: with the vow-power of samādhi to adorn and purify the buddha-lands, with the power of the samādhi that enters into all practices to purely cultivate the practices of a bodhisattva, with the power of going forth of the Samantabhadra vehicle to purify the pāramitās of the Buddhas. The three powers belong severally to the three faces of land, practice, and perfection.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that seeing a Buddha is seeing an adorned appearance. What the sūtra text calls seeing is seeing the working of his fruit and knowing the vow that was his cause. Brought down to the ground: in looking at one who has accomplished something, looking at the shape of his accomplishment is not so good as looking at the vow he first raised.

The Twelve Sentences of “Within a Single Thought”: Why They Are All Within a Single Thought

The twelve sentences below are the very body of this section. Every sentence opens with “within a single thought,” and first distinguishes the work and afterward brings out the reason (Chengguan's words). And the work distinguished is not of one mark only: of the twelve sentences, nine say “present themselves entirely,” the third says “are entirely adorned and made pure,” the sixth says “I reverently make offerings,” and the seventh says “I receive”—what these three distinguish is not appearing, but doing.

Why are all twelve sentences fastened to a single thought? Chengguan gives one general judgment: “second, in displaying the work of the Dharma there are twelve sentences, each first distinguishing the work and afterward bringing out the reason. Yet they do not go beyond vow, knowledge, and practice, as may be pondered from the text. That it says in general ‘a single thought’ is because he has obtained the knowledge that rests on nothing and does not think, so that there is no dharma that does not appear.”

The key lies in the words “the knowledge that rests on nothing and does not think.” Resting on nothing is not to lean upon an object; not thinking is not to raise a thought in order to illumine. To illumine without raising a thought is to have no before and after, and so it is not that ‘a single thought is very quick,’ but that it is not within the sequence of time at all.

This judgment joins most tightly with the stretch before: the marks of his mind in the former stretch said “the stirring and the frivolous talk, all of it had come to rest,” which is precisely not thinking; and this stretch says that within a single thought all appears, which is precisely the working of not thinking. Coming to rest and appearing are not two matters—this is the bone of the whole section. Li Tongxuan for his part brings out a phrase of his own upon this stretch of the work: “knowledge is what the vow employs, and the vow is the king of knowledge”—the vow is the king of knowledge and knowledge is what the vow employs; the practice of compassion, the spiritual powers, and on to the ocean of Samantabhadra’s practice are all of them knowledge employed by the vow. Chengguan speaks of the single thought in terms of the knowledge that rests on nothing and does not think, Li Tongxuan of the reason of the work in terms of vow and knowledge employing each other; the two tracks stand together.

Set aside a misreading: reading “within a single thought” as the speed of a spiritual power. However quick the speed, it is still sequence, whereas what the sūtra text speaks of is not falling into sequence. Brought down to the ground: to cultivate to the point where one need not raise a thought in order to illumine, and what is illumined is of itself left out of nothing—this is a direction, not a technique.

The First Four Sentences: The Ten Directions · Worlds · Buddha-Lands · The Practices of Beings

The twelve sentences may be looked at four to a group. What the first four make appear is the objective realm.

Of the first sentence, “within a single thought, all of the ten directions present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of the purity of wisdom”—the ten directions present themselves not by walking through them all, but by the purity of knowledge. Of the second sentence, “all worlds present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of my having passed through unspeakably unspeakable worlds”—this sentence pairs with the first: one rests on knowledge, one rests on practice; because knowledge is pure the ten directions appear, and because practice has passed everywhere the worlds appear.

Of the third sentence, “unspeakably unspeakable buddha-lands are entirely adorned and made pure,” the reason is “by reason of the power of accomplishing great vows.” The first two sentences are appearing; this sentence goes further to adorning and purifying—not only seeing them, but also making them pure, and what it rests upon is vow. Of the fourth sentence, “the differing practices of unspeakably unspeakable beings present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of fulfilling the knowledge of the ten powers”—the practices of beings differ in a thousand ways, and only the knowledge of the ten powers of a Buddha can illumine them to the end.

Set down in a row, the four sentences have a sequence: the ten directions (place), worlds (the vessel), buddha-lands (pure lands), the practices of beings (the deeds of the sentient). From space to the vessel-world to the pure land to the sentient, each is finer than the last.

Brought down to the ground: the power rested upon differs in each of the four sentences—knowledge, practice, vow, the knowledge of the ten powers. The work is not managed by one single power, and this is told apart very clearly among the four sentences.

The Middle Four Sentences: The Bodies of Buddhas · Making Offerings · Receiving the Dharma · The Ocean of Practices

In the middle four sentences, the text turns from the objective realm to Buddhas and the Dharma.

Of the fifth sentence, “the pure bodies of unspeakably unspeakable Buddhas present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of the power of accomplishing the practices and vows of Samantabhadra”—what seeing the bodies of Buddhas rests upon is the practices and vows of Samantabhadra. Of the sixth sentence, “I reverently make offerings to Tathāgatas as many as the dust motes of unspeakably unspeakable buddha-lands,” the reason is “by reason of accomplishing the vow-power of making offerings to the Tathāgatas with a pliant mind.” This sentence pairs with the one before: the former is seeing, this one is offering; and what the offering rests upon is pointed out particularly as “a pliant mind”—the key to making offerings is not in the quantity of things but in the pliancy of the mind.

Of the seventh sentence, “I receive unspeakably unspeakable dharmas of the Tathāgatas,” the reason is “by reason of obtaining the power of the dhāraṇī that enters into and realizes asaṃkhyeya distinct dharmas and upholds the wheel of the Dharma.” The dharmas are measureless, and that one can receive them without loss rests upon dhāraṇī—the power of total retention that does not lose what it holds. Of the eighth sentence, “the unspeakably unspeakable oceans of the practices of bodhisattvas present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of obtaining the vow-power that is able to purify all practices, like the net of Indra.” The net of Indra is the jewelled net upon the palace of Śakra, in which jewel reflects jewel without end; and the reason the ocean of practices can appear all at one time is precisely that practice and practice take each other in like the jewels of the net.

The four sentences make one line: seeing the Buddha, making offerings to the Buddha, receiving the Dharma, practising the Dharma. To see and not to offer is to be distant; to offer and not to receive the Dharma is to be blind; to receive the Dharma and not to bring it to practice is to be empty.

Brought down to the ground: these four sentences may be taken as four self-examinations—can you see, can you offer, can you bear it, can you carry it out.

The Last Four Sentences: The Oceans of Samādhi · The Oceans of the Faculties · Times · The Oceans of the Three Times

The last four sentences turn to four more fundamental things: concentration, the faculties, time, and the ages.

Of the ninth sentence, “the unspeakably unspeakable oceans of samādhi present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of obtaining the vow-power of entering from one gate of samādhi into all the gates of samādhi and causing them all to be pure”—entering from one gate into all gates is the sentence form most familiar in the Huayan line, and here it falls upon samādhi. Of the tenth sentence, “the unspeakably unspeakable oceans of the faculties present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of obtaining the vow-power of knowing the utmost bound of the faculties and of seeing all the faculties within a single faculty”—the same mechanism as the sentence before, falling here upon the faculties: within a single faculty all the faculties are seen.

Of the eleventh sentence, “times as many as the dust motes of unspeakably unspeakable buddha-lands present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of obtaining the vow-power of turning the wheel of the Dharma at all times, though the realm of beings may come to an end, yet the wheel of the Dharma has no end.” What matters most in this sentence is its latter half—though the realm of beings may come to an end, the wheel of the Dharma has no end. Of the twelfth sentence, “the unspeakably unspeakable oceans of all three times present themselves entirely,” the reason is “by reason of obtaining the vow-power of the light of the knowledge that knows all the divisions of the three times within all worlds.” That the twelve sentences close with the three times answers exactly to their opening with the ten directions in the first sentence: they begin from the pervading of space and end in the pervading of time.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the last four sentences repeat the sentence forms above. Look closely at the powers rested upon and they are told apart—samādhi is concentration, the faculties are capacity, and time and the three times are the divisions of time; not one of the four overlaps with the first eight sentences.

Brought down to the ground: the twelve sentences are one chart, spreading out for a person to see the faces that “a single thought” can take in. It does not matter that they cannot be seen to the end; remember only that they are all fastened to one and the same thing—the knowledge that rests on nothing and does not think.

How the Name “The Lamp That Accords” Was Set Up

The twelve sentences told, Well-Seeing gathers them with one sentence: “Son of good family! I know only this bodhisattva liberation of the Lamp That Accords.”

Why is the dharma gate named “the Lamp That Accords”? Chengguan's gloss upon the name is very short, and yet it strings together what comes before and after: “as for its being named the Lamp That Accords, he uses the true knowledge that does not think, and it accords with the Dharma and accords with the faculties, so that there is nothing it does not illumine.”

A lamp has the sense of illumining. And “according” has two accordings: it accords with the Dharma, and so its illumining leaves nothing out; it accords with the faculties, and so what it illumines is always apt. The stretch before said, “because he has obtained the knowledge that rests on nothing and does not think, there is no dharma that does not appear”—that is according with the Dharma; and within the twelve sentences, “the differing practices of beings present themselves entirely” and “within a single faculty all the faculties are seen”—that is according with the faculties. So this name does not set up another sense; it gathers the whole preceding stretch of the work into two Chinese characters.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that “according” means being agreeable and not going against. The according here is a mark of knowledge—knowledge itself turns in accordance with the Dharma and with the faculties; it is not a person's attitude.

Li Tongxuan glosses this name along another track, saying, “it is like one lamp lighting a hundred thousand lamps, so that those in darkness are all made bright, and the brightness in the end is not exhausted”—lamp lighting lamp and the brightness not exhausted: this is according spoken of in terms of the continuity of transmitting the Dharma. The two glosses stand together, each with its own rule. He further judges this one gate in terms of position: “this is the practice of joy, cultivating the pāramitā of giving as the host, with the remaining nine as companions”—the practice of joy takes giving as host and the other nine perfections as its companions; and he tells the mark of its cultivation under two gates: “taking it in terms of the gate of knowledge, within one practice all practices are cultivated together; taking it in terms of the gate of position, it cultivates in particular the six pāramitās, the practice that goes beyond the world”—in terms of the gate of knowledge all practices are cultivated together within one practice, and in terms of the gate of position the six perfections that go beyond the world are cultivated in particular.

Brought down to the ground: the name of the dharma gate one has obtained is often the shortest summing-up of the practice one has cultivated. To read a good friend's name for his dharma gate is of more use than to read of his spiritual powers.

The Five Layers of Deferring to the Superior: From the Household to the Work

After “I know only” comes the deferring to the superior. Many of the good friends of this assembly have such a stretch—saying that they know only one gate, and telling how the great bodhisattvas are thus and thus.

Chengguan judges this stretch as five layers, and attaches the sense of each layer in turn. The first layer is the general, and also displays the superiority of the household—the sūtra text, “like a vajra lamp, truly taking birth within the household of the Tathāgata”; Chengguan says, “above it said only that the lamp illumines, which need not be constant, and therefore now he defers to the superior, making clear that the vajra lamp of knowledge in person realizing suchness is what is meant by truly.” Before, it said only that the lamp can illumine, and did not necessarily say that it is constant; add the one word “vajra,” and it is in person realizing suchness and constantly illumining.

The second layer is the superiority of the life of recompense—“complete in the accomplishment of the deathless life-faculty”; Chengguan says, “because what is realized is constant, this is the sense of vajra.” The third layer is the superiority of inner knowledge—“ever burning the lamp of knowledge without its ever coming to an end and being put out”; Chengguan says, “since with respect to what is realized there is no coming to an end and being put out, this is the sense of the lamp.” The fourth layer is the superiority of the body of recompense—“their bodies firm and not to be broken down”; Chengguan says, “the nature of dharmas forms the body, and its mark does not shift, so this too is the sense of vajra.” The fifth layer is the superiority of the work, from “they manifest bodies of form and appearance like an illusion” onward; Chengguan says, “this answers to the sense of according above, and since it is the working that is one with the substance, none of it can be broken down.”

Take note of this matching: the second and the fourth are attached to the sense of vajra, the third to the sense of the lamp, and the fifth to the sense of according—the name of the dharma gate, “the Lamp That Accords,” and the sūtra text's simile, “the vajra lamp,” each find their place within the five layers.

Brought down to the ground: humbling oneself and deferring to the superior is not a courtesy. It is saying that within one and the same gate there are places deeper and finer still, and that those deeper and finer places have a structure and can be named.

“Hard to Get Sight Of, Hard to Have Appear in the World”: Why This Sentence Must Be Said

At the end of the deferring to the superior, the sūtra text writes the working such bodhisattvas manifest: manifesting bodies like an illusion, appearing according to the minds of beings, poison and blade and fire unable to harm them, unbreakable like a mountain of vajra, subduing the Māras and the outside ways, bodies like a mountain of true gold, fame vast, expounding the deep treasury of the Dharma, sending forth a great light that universally illumines the ten directions. Then come three “surelys”: “if there be any who see them, he will surely break the great mountain of every obstruction, will surely pull out the root of all that is not good, will surely be made to plant vast roots of goodness.”

The three “surelys” are breaking, pulling out, and planting—breaking obstruction, pulling out the root of what is not good, planting vast roots of goodness. One breaking, one pulling out, one planting: one sight of them, and there are three workings.

And the sūtra text goes on to say, “such people as these are hard to get sight of, and hard to have appear in the world,” closing with “and how then should I be able to know or to tell of their meritorious practice?” It has just been said that one who sees them surely gains the three benefits, and immediately it is said that such people are hard to see and hard to have appear in the world—only the two sentences taken together are complete: it is just because one sight surely gains such benefit that the difficulty of seeing is worth saying.

Set aside a misreading: reading “hard to get sight of” as pessimism. It is setting a price upon the three “surelys” before it—if they could be seen anywhere, those three “surelys” would not be “surely” at all. Brought down to the ground: to meet one who can make you break obstruction, pull out the root, and plant goodness is that rare one time, and there is no need to wait for a better.

Pointing to the Next Friend: From a Monk in a Wood to a Boy on an Islet

Well-Seeing points Sudhana south: a land named “Renown,” and upon an islet in the river a boy named “Sovereign Master.”

From a monk to a boy, from a wood to an islet in the river—this turn is of the same form as the earlier turn from Ocean Banner to Fulfilled Vow: with one turn of position, station and place turn along with it. And the sentence asked is still the original one: “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?” Well-Seeing does not change the question for Sudhana; he changes only the pointing of the road.

Li Tongxuan judges this stretch as belonging within the five gates of rising and advancing, saying that the five gates are “one, deferring to virtue and rising and advancing; two, showing the whereabouts and the land of the good friend; three, showing that the dwelling place of the good friend is upon an islet in the river; four, giving the name and title of the good friend, named Sovereign Master; five, bowing the head in reverence and taking leave and withdrawing”—deferring to virtue, showing the whereabouts and the land, showing that the dwelling is upon an islet in the river, giving the name as Sovereign Master, bowing the head in reverence and withdrawing, five steps with not one missing.

Take note of the third gate. The sūtra text writes the place of the next friend in one sentence only, “upon an islet in the river there is a boy”; yet Li Tongxuan will not fold it into the whereabouts, and brings it out as a gate of its own—the dwelling place is itself one of the things pointed to. An islet in a river is water on every side with a man dwelling upon it; that the friend of the next section is a boy, and that he is named Sovereign Master, go together with this dwelling place. (At the end of the stretch upon the previous friend Li Tongxuan has besides a set of five gates, close in wording but attached to a different passage of the sūtra; that set is the outline by which the previous friend defers to virtue and leads into this section, and is not to be confused with the five gates of the present stretch.) Within the window of this section Chengguan brings out only the outline name for this portion, “pointing to the next friend,” his glossing text passing over into the window of the next section, and for this section it is left open as it stands.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a good friend pointing the road is pushing a person away. The sequence of the sūtra text is first to defer to virtue (telling of that one's superiority) and afterward to show the whereabouts—first letting a person know what is there, and only then telling how to go. Brought down to the ground: really to point the road is to make plain the place the other is going to, not to see a person out the door.

Cherishing His Virtue and Taking Leave: What He Carries on the Road

The last stretch is Sudhana's leave-taking. The sūtra text first lists why he must walk on—because he wished to bring to completion the brave and pure practice of a bodhisattva, to obtain the light of great strength, to cultivate the meritorious practices that none surpasses and that have no end, to fulfil the firm great vows, to accomplish the vast and deep mind, to hold fast the measureless surpassing practices; then “toward the dharmas of a bodhisattva there was no satiety within his mind,” “he was willing to enter into all the merit of the bodhisattvas”; then “he wished ever to gather in and govern all beings,” “he wished to pass beyond the dense forest and the wilderness of birth-and-death”; and last, “toward the good friend he ever delighted to see and to hear, serving and making offerings without weariness.” Only then comes the respect paid: bowing to the feet of him, circling him measureless times, gazing up with earnest heart, taking leave and withdrawing.

Take note where the weight of this string lies: only after more than ten sentences on the conduct of the mind are there four sentences of ceremony. Whether he walks on or not is decided in that string on the conduct of the mind, not in the courtesies.

Take note too of the last sentence on the conduct of the mind—“toward the good friend he ever delighted to see and to hear, serving and making offerings without weariness.” One of his reasons for leaving a good friend is precisely that he delights in seeing good friends. He walks in order to see again.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that taking leave is the ending of this stretch. It is in fact the opening of the next section—this string of “wished to” is exactly what he carries with him when he comes to Sovereign Master. Brought down to the ground: what one carries within the mind on leaving one place decides what can be obtained at the next.

Lineage

The text of this section opens out into three lines below it.

The first is the line of position. Chengguan's glossing of “going forth from the household” as having only now left the household of the ten abodes, and of the thirty-eight Gaṅgā's sands as passing beyond the former position, both fasten the present section back to the stretch of the ten abodes before. So this section is not an isolated visit; it is the first step of one whole position turning into another whole position. And the judgments “assigned to the positions of the ten practices” and “assigned to the joyful practice” are outlines Chengguan carries on from the ancient worthies, and are not marked by the sūtra text itself—the reader should know them for road signs.

The second is the line of cross-reading within this sūtra. When Chengguan glosses the first sense of “this life of mine,” he says plainly that the principle of a single thought and the kalpas interfusing is “as is expounded at the place of Supreme Fearless Voice,” pushing the present section back to the section on the seer Supreme Fearless Voice; and when he glosses the number of the marks he says further, “the rest will be glossed at the place of Gopā,” pushing the marks not exhausted forward to the later section on Gopā. One going and one coming, and the present section has chains of attachment to the sections both before and after it in this chapter—this is a way of reading Chengguan set up himself, and is not matched to it by later people.

The third is the line of the divergent glosses of the several houses, each with its own rule, recorded without judgment. For the outline of this section, Chengguan makes six parts and glosses the first four parts severally; Li Tongxuan does not use the six parts but sets up separately the six gates of entering the present position, and at the end of this section the five gates of rising and advancing (deferring to virtue and rising and advancing · showing the whereabouts and the land of the good friend · showing that the dwelling place of the good friend is upon an islet in the river · giving the name and title of the good friend, named Sovereign Master · bowing the head in reverence and taking leave and withdrawing), while at the end of the stretch upon the previous friend there is besides a set of five gates leading into this section; Fazang makes it five parts and Zhiyan three divisions—the outlines taking the bounds of the passages each differently. As to what the seven places full and level refer to, Chengguan makes them the two hands, the two feet, the two shoulders, and the nape, and Li Tongxuan makes them the two hands, the two feet, the two shoulders, and the sheathed member of the horse-king—the first six the same, and the seventh differing. As to the counting of the marks and signs, Chengguan points out the fourteen marks listed above and, adding two, sixteen in all, while Li Tongxuan sets up no such number but attaches to each mark in turn the reason of its deeds of recompense. As for the name Well-Seeing and the sense of the land of Three Eyes, Li Tongxuan has a gloss for each, while Chengguan does not gloss them within this window. As to the sense of the Lamp That Accords, Chengguan attaches it to the true knowledge that does not think according with the Dharma and with the faculties, and Li Tongxuan attaches it to one lamp lighting a hundred thousand lamps without exhaustion. As to the marks matched by the two similes of the gods of the Pure Abode and the nyagrodha tree, Chengguan in both places says that they follow the Jin sūtra, taking the matching of the parallel translation. As for the Tanxuan ji and the Souxuan ji, the two houses gloss the sixty-fascicle text, where the friend's name reads “Well-Appearing” and not “Well-Seeing”—the name forms differing, while each of the two houses has a gloss of its own upon this section. Fazang glosses the name as the practice of giving accomplished within and the surpassing recompense appearing without, and therefore named Well-Appearing; he further brings out the sentences of being mindful of the previous teaching as a general one and a particular eleven, judges the work as eleven sentences, and records the original Indian name of the dharma gate as the bodhisattva liberation of the Unresting Lamp of Knowledge. Zhiyan for his part judges this section in three divisions, brings out the name of the dharma gate as the dharma gate of the bodhisattva's attesting brightness that accords, and records the sentences of being mindful of the previous teaching as thirteen. The numbers of the three houses each stand upon their own text—Fazang and Zhiyan upon the sixty, Chengguan upon the eighty. The Yanyi chao has besides, in fascicle sixty-one, a gloss proper to this section: first it glosses the name Well-Seeing as assigned to the joyful practice — giving gladdens oneself and others, and so it is called joyful; then it opens the seven sentences upon beings one by one: false imagining as cause is just being without nature; the depth and subtlety of the consciousness of ripened recompense is spoken of by the ādāna consciousness and the continuity of the flowing stream; the images that are transformed divide into the inner realm (seeds, faculties and body) and the outer (the vessel-world); and “all adorn the Dharma realm and yet there is no adorning” is witnessed by the Diamond’s “to adorn is just not to adorn” — though one adorns, there is no mind that adorns, and only when phenomena and principle are unobstructed is it true adorning.

There is besides a line of the parallel translations. The forty-fascicle Avataṃsaka likewise carries this chapter: there the friend's name reads “Wondrous-Seeing” and the land “Three Eyes”; the sentences of the profound in being mindful are listed as fourteen (the eighty has thirteen, the sixty twelve); in the stretch of the kalpas among the times an item of one middling kalpa is brought out besides; the dharma gate is named the bodhisattva liberation of the Inexhaustible Lamp That Accords, adding “inexhaustible” upon the lamp; the stretch upon the hard to see has besides the simile of the udumbara flower; and the next friend is the land Fullness of Much Hearing, the city Wondrous Gate, and the boy Sovereign Master of the Faculties, a city being named over and above the land. And in the stretch of the work there are besides four places of substantial difference. What the pāramitās fulfilled: the eighty reads “fulfilled the ocean of the six kinds of pāramitā,” setting up six as a number, while the forty reads “fully completed all the gates of the pāramitās” and sets up no number—the one telling what is fulfilled in terms of the six perfections, the other in terms of all the gates. The third sentence of the work: the eighty says of the buddha-lands that they are “all of them adorned and made pure,” making that the work it distinguishes, while the forty says they “all present themselves” and puts the adorning and the purifying into the reason, “by reason of the vow-power of a bodhisattva accomplished in universally adorning and purifying them”—the adorning told in the one within the work, in the other within the reason. The fourth sentence of the work: what appears is in both the differing practices of beings, while the reasons differ—the eighty “because he fulfils the knowledge of the ten powers,” attached to the knowledge of the ten powers of a Buddha, the forty “because he obtains the fulfilling of the ocean of Samantabhadra’s gates of teaching,” attached to the ocean of Samantabhadra’s gates of teaching. The ninth sentence of the work: the eighty reads “by reason of the vow-power of entering all the gates of samādhi from a single gate of samādhi and making them all pure,” saying besides the entering of all the gates from one gate that they are all made pure, while the forty reads “by reason of the vow-power of entering and coming forth freely from all samādhis within a single samādhi,” telling it as the free entering and coming forth within a single samādhi and not attaching purity. Most worth attention is the seventh sentence of the work: the eighty reads “receiving unspeakably unspeakable dharmas of the Tathāgatas,” the receiving being in Well-Seeing himself, while the forty has the Tathāgatas pour down the rain of the Dharma into the minds of beings, the giver being the Tathāgatas and the receiver beings. One and the same sentence of the work is told in the one text from what is received for oneself and in the other from what benefits others—recorded side by side without judgment, and by it a reader may see how far one sentence of the sūtra can shift among the three translations.

In the text of one section, the first half is walking and the latter half is walking. The first half is Sudhana walking here, the latter half is Sudhana walking away; and the man in the middle is walking back and forth in a wood as well. At the head of the ten practices no picture of sitting down is given—what is called practice was always just such a thing as does not stop.

Where This Stretch Stands: Sudhana Comes Out from the Monk Well-Seeing

Up to this point, counting from the monk Merit Cloud onward, Sudhana has visited eleven good friends (counting from Mañjuśrī at the outset, twelve). The opening of this section is not a new scene but the settling of accounts for the old lesson—“At that time, the youth Sudhana, having received the teaching of the monk Well-Seeing, held it in mind and recited and retained it, thought upon it and cultivated it, made it clear and settled it with decision, and so he was able to enter into that dharma gate.”

What must be asked is this: why does the sūtra text write out these four steps one by one? Receiving the teaching is one step, holding it in mind and reciting and retaining it is one step, thinking upon it and cultivating it is one step, making it clear and settling it with decision is yet another step, and only then does it say “and so he was able to enter into it.” If receiving the teaching were itself the obtaining of the dharma, these four steps would be superfluous.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that visiting a good friend is ‘to hear is to have.’ The sūtra text does not allow such a reading. After hearing, one must be able to remember; having remembered, one must be able to use it; being able to use it, one must settle it beyond doubt; and only when it is settled beyond doubt can there be talk of entering in. Let any one of these four steps be missing, and the dharma of the previous good friend cannot be kept, and the next friend cannot be visited to any purpose. Brought down to the ground: to check whether what you studied in the last stretch has really come into your hands, do not look at how moved you were at the time; look at how many of those four steps you walked to the end.

Seeking in Accord with the Teaching: Going to the Land of Renown

The previous stretch walked to its end, the sūtra text writes next of the road—“the hosts of gods, dragons, yakṣas, and gandharvas surrounded him before and behind, and he walked toward the land of Renown, seeking everywhere and searching all around for the boy Sovereign Master.”

Why is the land named Renown? Chengguan glosses this: “as for the land being called Renown, it is because one who is able to keep the pure precepts has a fruit in the present life.” The person who keeps the precepts obtains, in this very life, one fruit of recompense, and that is a good name—this is the present-life benefit of the precepts. The Yanyi chao brings out for this sentence the text of the precepts on which it rests, citing the Jie jing (the Sūtra of the Precepts): “the person of understanding who is able to guard the precepts is able to obtain three kinds of ease—good name and gain, and at death birth among the gods.” Among the three kinds of ease, good name stands first in the list.

A misreading must be set aside: this is not to say that one keeps the precepts in order to seek a name. What the sūtra text and Chengguan speak of is the fruit, not the cause—the person who keeps the precepts naturally has renown, as a tree that is planted naturally has shade; and to turn it around and keep precepts for the sake of a name is no longer the keeping of precepts spoken of here. Brought down to the ground: after a person keeps the precepts, the trust of those around him slowly grows up of itself, and that fact is itself the meaning of ‘the land of Renown.’

Fazang, upon the name of the land in the sixty-fascicle text, Śoṇa, sets up another gloss: he says it is the name of a great river, that the common saying of that place was that bathing in this river wipes out offenses and increases merit, and that the land is named for it, and takes it as signifying that the practice of keeping the precepts casts off the wrong done in deeds. The two glosses stand side by side, both recorded without judgment.

The Gods and Dragons Point the Way: The Boy Is upon an Islet in the River

The one seeking the man is Sudhana; the ones pointing the way are the gods and dragons—“Son of good family! This boy is now upon an islet in the river.”

What must be asked is this: why should a good friend dwell upon an islet of sand in the middle of a river? Chengguan glosses this: “as for being in the midst of the river-islet: if one keeps the pure precepts, one is not swept away and drowned by the river of craving that is birth-and-death; and further, the measureless river of merit flows on without ceasing”—he sets up two senses. One is not being swept away: the water is on all four sides and yet the person is not carried off, which figures the keeper of the precepts standing in the midst of birth-and-death and craving and not being carried off. Two is the ceaseless flowing: an islet becomes an islet precisely because the river-water brings silt to it without ceasing, which figures the merit of the keeper of the precepts flowing on like water without break. The Yanyi chao turns the commentary's phrase “the river of merit flows on without ceasing” one turn further: “for one who does not keep the precepts, every field in which transgression is possible holds a portion of transgression; because one keeps the precepts, in fields without end one brings forth surpassing merit.” The fields in which one might transgress are without end, and so the merit of not transgressing is without end as well. That merit “flows on without ceasing” does not lie in some good deed done by chance; it lies in this, that wherever transgression was possible and did not happen, merit is being born.

Li Tongxuan takes a third sense: “as for dwelling in the midst of the river-islet, it signifies that the precepts are the river-current, which must enter the ocean of knowledge”—the precepts are themselves that river, and it will surely flow into the sea of wisdom. Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, has “the side of the river-water,” and attaches it instead to concentration—“as for the side of the river-water, it signifies that the water of concentration is brought forth.” The three of them take their stress in different places: what Chengguan and Tongxuan attach it to is the precepts; what Fazang attaches it to in this line is concentration.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that cultivation means leaving the water. The place where the sūtra text sets him is an islet in the middle of the water, not the bank—it is not leaving birth-and-death, it is not being carried off within birth-and-death. Brought down to the ground: the precepts do not carry a person away out of human affairs; they let a person stand firm within them.

Heaping Up Sand at Play: What Sudhana Saw with His First Glance

Sudhana arrived, and what he saw was “this boy, with ten thousand boys surrounding him together, heaping up sand at play”—one child, with ten thousand children, piling up sand for play.

What must be asked is this: why does the sūtra text write this picture in? The first mark of a good friend is usually the expounding of the Dharma, or the entering of concentration, or the majesty of a palace; this one is playing with sand.

Chengguan glosses this: “as for seeing him heaping up sand, it is because the merit that is as the sands of the Gaṅgā is gathered together by the precepts”—sand is grain by grain, and merit as many as the sands of the Gaṅgā is likewise piled up precept by precept. Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, puts it more finely: “it makes plain that the number of the three groups of precepts is gathered up by way of skillful means”—the three groups of pure precepts, that which gathers in the rules of restraint, that which gathers in good dharmas, and that which gathers in beings, are gathered up in just this way, number by number.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that playing with sand is an idle matter, a stray stroke of the sūtra's brush. Not one word of the sūtra text is idle—the word ‘heap’ is exactly gathering, and ‘sand’ is exactly those small matters too fine for any mark of merit to be seen in them. Brought down to the ground: the practice of the precepts has never been one great matter; it is one grain of sand a day, and only after long doing does it become an island.

Sudhana's Question: The Two Things He Asks Never Change

Sudhana, having paid his respects, opens his mouth, and what he asks is still that one sentence—“I have already given rise beforehand to the mind of unsurpassed perfect awakening, and yet I do not know how a bodhisattva is to study the practice of a bodhisattva, nor how a bodhisattva is to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva. Would you explain it for me.”

What must be asked is this: with fifty-three good friends, why does Sudhana ask the same sentence? Having asked it eleven times already, counting from Merit Cloud onward, should he not by now put a deeper question?

It is precisely because he does not change it that the weight of this one question shows. The mind given rise to is one; the thing asked about is one—what practice is to be studied, what path is to be cultivated; what changes is only the person answering. With the four Chinese characters 「我已先發」 tr. “I have already given rise beforehand” the sūtra text first sets up what the question rests upon: the mind of awakening must be there first for this question to stand at all; without that mind, the same words asked out are only a seeking after information.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that seeking the Dharma means changing the question over and over. Brought down to the ground: if a person truly has one question running through to the end, then every good friend he meets is answering it; and if he has not, he may meet a hundred and will only have heard a hundred stretches of talk.

Bringing Forward the Name and Substance of the Dharma Gate: This Boy's Dharma Comes from Mañjuśrī

Sovereign Master opens his mouth, and his first sentence gives the provenance—“I formerly, at the place of the youth Mañjuśrī, studied writing, number, calculation, seals, and dharmas of that sort, and thereupon I entered into the dharma gate of the knowledge of all craft and supernormal power.”

What must be asked is this: why is it Mañjuśrī who teaches these things? Mañjuśrī is the head of wisdom, and yet what he teaches is the writing of letters, the counting of numbers, reckoning, seal-impressions—these worldly crafts.

Chengguan glosses this: “as for what was studied with Mañjuśrī, it is because one who has knowledge is able to guard the precepts”—these four are not miscellaneous learning, they are the study of the precepts, and the precepts require wisdom if they are to be kept at all. For this the Yanyi chao cites one further sentence of the Jie jing: “one should contemplate it thus: the person of knowledge diligently guards the precepts, and when the precepts are pure there is wisdom, and he obtains the foremost path”; and it glosses the structure itself, saying “the upper two sentences take knowledge as the cause, and the lower two sentences are the fruit of that knowledge”—first knowledge guards the precepts, and the precepts being pure, wisdom is born again from them, and then the foremost path is obtained. Knowledge and the precepts are one circle of mutual cause and fruit, not two separate matters.

Chengguan further divides what is studied from what is realized with a single sentence: “above, it sets out what was studied; below, it sets out what was realized”—writing, number, calculation, and seals are what was studied; the dharma gate of the knowledge of craft and supernormal power is what was realized. The studying is four crafts; the realizing is one dharma gate. Brought down to the ground: a craft can be studied by imitation, but the dharma gate must be realized out of the craft; to study without realizing is only to have four kinds of ability.

The Four Dharmas of Writing, Number, Calculation, and Seals: Chengguan Matches Them Word by Word to the Precepts

These four words Chengguan does not gloss in general; he matches them one by one:

Writing—“as for writing, it is because it sets out plainly what is to be stopped and what is to be done.” Writing is letters, and the use of letters is to write out clearly what is to be stopped and what is to be done. That the precepts can be kept at all requires first that it can be said clearly which thing is not allowed and which thing is required.

Number—“as for number, it signifies the four grave and the ten grave offenses, on down to the three thousand deportments and the eighty thousand fine points of conduct.” The precepts have their numbers: the four grave, the ten grave, and further down the three thousand deportments and the eighty thousand fine points. The numbers are not fussiness; they say that the precepts are not one vague sentence about ‘doing good.’ The Yanyi chao glosses this number further: “the four grave run through the prātimokṣa precepts of the two vehicles; the ten grave and below are of the Great Vehicle, the four grave running through both, and these also being solely of the Great.” The Chao brings forward one instance besides, to make plain that the numbers of the precepts have their weights: “in the rite by which Maitreya received the precepts, he received only the four that may not be transgressed, that is, the last four precepts among the ten grave, namely stinginess, anger, praising oneself and disparaging others, and slandering the three jewels.” Among the ten grave, the rite by which Maitreya received the precepts marks out only the last four as not to be transgressed—stinginess, anger, praising oneself while disparaging others, and slandering the three jewels. The numbers are many, and yet weight and lightness have their order; they are not one flat heap of articles.

Calculation—“as for calculation, it is because each single cause brings on so much fruit.” Calculation is the study of quantity: how great a fruit one cause brings on can be calculated. Cause and fruit are not a blurred retribution; they have their weight.

The seal—“as for the seal, it is because keeping and breaking, good and evil, bring on their fruit with certainty.” The seal is the seal-impression: once it is pressed down it is fixed—keeping is keeping and breaking is breaking, good is good and evil is evil, and the bringing on of fruit is decided and does not shift.

And the rest—“as for ‘and the rest,’ it takes in the remaining medical arts, and so the five sciences are complete.” For the one word ‘and the rest’ in the sūtra text, Chengguan says that it takes in medicine and the remaining sciences, which together make up the learning of the five sciences.

A misreading must be set aside: the notion that this is dragging worldly learning in by force to match it against the Buddha-Dharma. The sequence is exactly the reverse—what the sūtra text speaks of is these four crafts to begin with, and what Chengguan does is to point out which face of the precepts each of these four crafts reflects. Brought down to the ground: if a person takes the keeping of precepts to be a vague ‘being a decent person,’ these four words are four measuring rods—it can be said clearly (writing), it can be counted out (number), its weight can be calculated (calculation), and its outcome can be acknowledged as settled (the seal).

The Knowledge of Craft and Supernormal Power: Why a Craft May Be Called a Supernormal Power

The dharma gate realized is named “the dharma gate of the knowledge of all craft and supernormal power.” What must be asked is this: craft is handiwork; how can it be called supernormal power, and called knowledge?

Chengguan glosses this: “craft and supernormal power are both what knowledge does, and it further signifies that cultivating the precepts brings forth concentration and wisdom”—the skill in the hands is in fact what knowledge does; and from the precepts to concentration, from concentration to wisdom, this whole road is contained within it. So although this gate is named craft, it in fact runs through the three trainings.

Fazang says it more directly: “skillfully knowing worldly dharmas, they are turned into a use that goes beyond the world”—one and the same worldly dharma, skillfully known, turns into a use beyond the world. Fazang also records the other name this dharma gate bears in the text of India: “this is, in the text of India, ‘I have obtained the knowledge that can skillfully transform all dharmas’”—that text does not say “craft and supernormal power”; it says the knowledge that can transform all dharmas. The names differ and what they point to is one thing: a worldly dharma, once it is in the hands of knowledge, can be turned. Fazang further points out that the marks and the seal each have their own use: “since by the marks one knows good and evil and by the seal one removes calamity”—reading the marks is for knowing good and evil, using the seal is for removing calamity, and so the two are set out together in one stretch.

Upon the three methods listed in the sixty-fascicle text Fazang records besides the saying of another house, which matches the three one by one to the three groups of pure precepts: “the first, the marks and the ill-omened, is the precepts of restraint, which cut off the ill-omened; the next, calculation and the good, is the constant cultivation of the gathering in of good; the last, the seal and the capacity, is the rescue and healing that is the gathering in of beings.” To read the marks and know the ill-omened is exactly the cutting off of evil that belongs to the gathering in of the rules of restraint; to calculate and know that the good can be counted one by one and constantly cultivated is exactly the gathering in of good dharmas; to seal and to meet the capacity with rescue and healing is exactly the gathering in of beings. Fazang himself marks this as “someone's gloss,” recording it and passing no judgment.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that supernormal power is another sort of ability, unrelated to the abilities of daily use. Here the sūtra text puts the two of them inside one name. Brought down to the ground: when a person carries the matter in his hands to its utmost and the mind is not stained, that ‘utmost’ is the supernormal power this gate speaks of.

The General Statement of the Working: The World's Writing, Number, Calculation, Seals, and the Elements and Sense-Bases

The dharma gate having been named, its working is set out. The first layer is the general one—“he is able to know the writing, the number, the calculation, and the seals of the world, and the elements and the sense-bases and dharmas of that sort.”

What must be asked is this: it has already been said above that he studied writing, number, calculation, and seals, so why is it said again here? The first time was ‘what was studied’; this time is ‘what was obtained’—the studying was received at Mañjuśrī's place, the obtaining is his own penetration of all dharmas of that same kind in the world. Here the sūtra text adds the two words ‘elements’ and ‘sense-bases’: the elements are the eighteen elements, the sense-bases the twelve sense-bases, and both speak of how body-and-mind and the world are put together.

The Yanyi chao judges what this stretch belongs to, saying “this general text is likewise the science of sound,” and points out that number, calculation, and seals belong to the setting up of number within the science of sound, which is able to cure through and through the doubt that arises in a person between taking and giving, and to break the obstruction he has with regard to the elements and sense-bases. The Chao further judges what the word ‘dharmas’ at the end of this same sentence belongs to—“as for dharmas, they are just the science of reasons”—and brings forward as witness one sentence of the new translation of the sūtra, “treatises of every sort are the substance of a treatise,” saying that what is pointed to is discourse, disputation, and the like. So within this one general sentence, writing belongs to the setting up of dharmas within the science of sound; number, calculation, and seals belong to the setting up of number within the science of sound; and the last word ‘dharmas’ has already entered the science of reasons—it is not that one sentence speaks of one science only.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that a bodhisattva's mastery of worldly learning is an ornament for the convenience of expounding the Dharma. What the Yanyi chao says is ‘cure through and through’—on the Chao’s judgment these branches of learning are themselves breaking a person's doubt and obstruction. Brought down to the ground: when a person is muddled by numbers and contracts and falls into a quarrel, to get the reckoning clear resolves the doubt, and this too is Dharma.

Healing Illness: Wind-Epilepsy · Wasting · Possession by Goblins and Sprites

The first item in the miscellaneous setting out of the working is medicine—“he is also able to heal wind-epilepsy, wasting, and possession by goblins and sprites,” and below this it speaks generally of all diseases whatsoever.

What must be asked is this: why should healing the sick be counted within the Beneficial Practice? Because benefit is a real benefit, not a good intention. When there is illness in a person's body, he cannot take the Dharma in even when it is expounded; when the illness is gone, the Dharma can get in. As for the learning of medicine, Chengguan has already taken it in under the word ‘and the rest’ among the five sciences; here is its practical use. The Yanyi chao divides this into four joints: “within it, wind-epilepsy and wasting are the mark of illness, and possession by goblins and sprites is likewise a mark of illness and also a cause of illness, being illness that comes of ghosts and the rest. That he is able to heal them is just the cutting off; and the word ‘able’ is likewise the not arising again once cut off.” The first two are the mark of illness; possession is both mark and cause; “healing” is the cutting off; and the word “able” carries one layer more—that once cut off it does not arise again. What makes medicine medicine is not the stopping of one bout of suffering, but the cutting of its root.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the bodhisattva's practice is carried on only upon the ground of the mind. The first use the sūtra text lists is healing the sick—the matter that is closest to the body and least profound of all. Brought down to the ground: the entrance to the Beneficial Practice is often just this, to take away one degree of the suffering in the body of the person in front of you.

Building Cities and Towns: Putting Up the Places Where People Live

The second item is building—“he is also able to build cities and towns, villages and hamlets, gardens and groves, terraces and towers, palaces and dwelling houses, places of every sort.”

What must be asked is this: what has putting up houses to do with the path of a bodhisattva? For people to go on living, they must first have somewhere to live; for a group of people to live together, there must first be cities and towns, villages and hamlets. Gardens and groves, terraces and towers are places for roaming and rest; palaces and dwelling houses are places for settling the body—the sūtra text lists them through from the large to the small, which says that the bodhisattva can order every layer of where people dwell.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this is merely a way of saying that a bodhisattva can do anything. The sequence in the sūtra text is deliberate: first healing the sick (the body can survive), then building (there is a place to dwell), and only below that comes livelihood. Brought down to the ground: benefiting beings has its own sequence, and the more urgent stands the earlier.

Elixirs · Farming and Trade · Taking and Letting Go, Advancing and Withdrawing

The third item is livelihood—“he is also skilled at compounding and refining elixirs of every sort; he is also skilled at managing and ordering field-work, farming, trading and dealing, and all occupations whatsoever, so that what should be taken is taken, what should be let go is let go, what should be advanced is advanced, and what should be withdrawn is withdrawn, and all of it comes to be in its proper place.”

What must be asked is this: what does the last sentence, that all of it comes to be in its proper place, say? What went before said that he can do these things; this sentence says that he does them fittingly. Field-work and trading are of themselves matters of taking and letting go, of advancing and withdrawing—when one should take and when one should release, when one should advance and when one should withdraw. To be able to do the thing without knowing when to advance and when to withdraw means that the bigger it is done, the greater the harm.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that ‘skilled’ means technically good. The skill of the sūtra text falls upon those four Chinese characters 「咸得其所」 tr. “all of it comes to be in its proper place”—every single thing set where it ought to be. Brought down to the ground: if a person's ability has no sense of measure to go with it, the ability itself becomes an instrument for making karma; and this position, with the precepts as its master, is precisely that sense of measure.

The Yanyi chao judges this stretch to belong to the science of craft, and upon the twelve crafts of the Yogācārabhūmi points out that this sūtra takes only five of them: “fascicle fifteen of the Yogācārabhūmi has twelve crafts, and here in brief there are five of them”—building, compounding (the refining of elixirs), husbandry, and trade, together with physiognomy in the text below, five in all. The remaining seven the Chao also lists one by one: “there are besides seven not spoken of, namely music, writing and reckoning, ripening, the quarters, serving the king, transformation, and spells.” So the sūtra text is not setting out the crafts to the end; it brings forward those that bear upon benefiting beings.

Knowing the Bodily Marks of Beings and the Capacity for the Three Vehicles

The fourth item is knowing people—“he is further skilled at discerning and knowing the bodily marks of beings, whether what they do is good or evil, whether they are about to be born in a good destiny or about to be born in an evil destiny,” and then a layer deeper, “that this person should obtain the path of the vehicle of the śrāvakas, that this person should obtain the path of the vehicle of the pratyekabuddhas, that this person should enter the ground of omniscience.”

What must be asked is this: what is the difference between the first stretch and the second? What is known in the first stretch is the fruit of deeds—whether this person does good or evil, and whether he will be born in a good destiny or an evil one; what is known in the second stretch is capacity—which vehicle's road this person should walk. To know the fruit of deeds is to know where he has come from and where he is going; to know capacity is to know what dharma he is able to receive.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this is the art of physiognomy. The end-point of what the sūtra text knows does not lie in fortune and misfortune; it lies in ‘should obtain’—what path one ought to obtain. Brought down to the ground: real understanding of a person is not deciding what sort of person he is, it is seeing which road he is able to walk.

The Yanyi chao judges this stretch to belong to the science of the inner, and upon the four settings-up of the Yogācārabhūmi points out that this sūtra takes only one of the gates: “the present text makes plain only the principle, and within it there are two: one, knowing the causes and fruits of the six destinies,” the second being the causes and fruits of the three vehicles. To know the good and evil destinies is the causes and fruits of the six destinies; to know the capacity for the three vehicles is the causes and fruits of the three vehicles; and both stand within the one gate of “principle,” reaching neither to the thing nor to the gathering in of the holy teaching. So what is known in this stretch is not a person's fate but the principle of cause and fruit.

Causing Beings to Study This Dharma: Not Only Knowing It Oneself

The last sentence of the miscellaneous setting out of the sciences is a turn—“he also causes beings to study this dharma, to increase, to be decided and ultimately pure.”

What must be asked is this: after so many abilities have been set out, why does it come to rest upon ‘causing beings to study’? If one only knows it oneself, that is a craft; only when beings are made to know it as well is it benefit. And the result of what they are made to study has three layers: increase, decision, ultimate purity—first they advance, then they do not doubt, and at last they are pure.

The Yanyi chao glosses the name of this position: “the three groups of pure precepts are able to benefit self and other, and so it is called Beneficial”—that benefit becomes a name lies precisely in the two Chinese characters 「自他」 tr. “self and other.” Keeping them oneself is the gathering in of the rules of restraint and the gathering in of good dharmas; benefiting others is the gathering in of beings; and lacking that half which benefits others, the precepts are still precepts, but they are not the Beneficial Practice.

The Yanyi chao further judges how much this concluding sentence gathers in—“the general conclusion, taking in as well the remaining three.” The stretch before it made plain only the one gate of ‘principle’ among the four settings-up of the Yogācārabhūmi; at this concluding sentence the remaining three are drawn in as well. The Chao says, “that is, causing them to study it and to be decided and ultimate is the gathering in of the holy teaching, and what the holy teaching knows should set out the thing, and principle and thing are just the three baskets”—to cause beings to study until they are decided and ultimate is the third gate, the gathering in of the holy teaching; what the holy teaching knows must then set out the thing, which is the first gate, the thing; and principle and thing once joined, the sense of the three baskets is complete. And as to what the long stretch on calculation below belongs to, the Chao makes a separate judgment: “below, the knowledge of calculation is likewise taken in by the science of sound”—calculation does not enter the science of the inner, but still comes back to the science of sound.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that handing on a craft is a worldly matter, while delivering beings is the Buddha's matter. This sentence joins the two of them together. Brought down to the ground: to teach another what you yourself know, and to teach him until he too is decided beyond doubt—this act is itself within the third group of the precepts.

The Bodhisattva's Method of Calculation: Why the Position Names Are Listed Rung by Rung

Next comes the longest stretch of this section—“Son of good family! I am also able to know the bodhisattva's method of calculation,” and below it, from “a hundred Lakṣas make one Koṭi; a Koṭi multiplied by a Koṭi makes one Ayuduo” it goes up position by position, with “and setting it out at length in this manner, on and on” omitting a stretch in the middle, and comes to rest at last upon “this Unspeakably Unspeakable multiplied again by an Unspeakably Unspeakable makes one Unspeakably Unspeakable-turned.”

What must be asked is this: since the conclusion is Unspeakably Unspeakable-turned, why not simply say one sentence, ‘measureless and boundless’? Why must the name of every single rung be listed out?

Because what is cultivated in this position is calculating, not exclaiming. To exclaim is to sigh at how many there are; to calculate is to know the exact number. The first rung is a hundredfold—“a hundred Lakṣas make one Koṭi”; from the Koṭi upward the sentence-pattern of the sūtra text is then uniform, the previous position multiplied by itself becoming the next—Koṭi times Koṭi is Ayuduo, Ayuduo times Ayuduo is Nayuta. From the Koṭi upward every rung is a squaring, and so it rises exceedingly fast; and yet even risen to Unspeakably Unspeakable-turned, every step of it is still a step that can be calculated. This is exactly what Chengguan says under the word ‘calculation’—that each single cause brings on so much fruit—the quantity of cause and fruit can be calculated out rung by rung.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that the sūtra's great numbers are only hyperbole. The rung-by-rung names of this stretch show that it is not hyperbole but a quantity with a structure. Brought down to the ground: the quantity of cultivation grows in just this way—it does not suddenly become measureless, it multiplies itself upward rung by rung.

Calculating the Heap of Sand: From Name to Thing

The position names listed to the end, the sūtra text turns to their use—“he calculates a vast heap of sand measureless yojanas across, and is able to know in full how many grains are within it.”

What must be asked is this: the previous stretch was the names of number, this stretch is the use of number; why is the first thing calculated sand?

Because sand is the thing least able to be counted, and it is also just what this boy was playing with when Sudhana first saw him. At the opening, heaping up sand at play; here, calculating sand and knowing its number—the head and the tail are buckled together. The merit that is as the sands of the Gaṅgā, gathered together by the precepts, is what cannot be counted and yet can be calculated.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that ‘calculating sand’ is a display of supernormal power. The weight of the sūtra text lies in ‘able to know in full how many grains are within it’—it is knowing for certain how many grains are within it, with every single grain inside the count. Brought down to the ground: the practice of the precepts can pile up into merit precisely because every single grain counts.

Calculating the Worlds of the Ten Directions: From One Heap of Sand to All Worlds

What is calculated is pushed upward—“he is also able to calculate and know all the worlds whatsoever in the eastern direction, their differences of every sort and the manner in which they abide according to their sequence,” and below it, “the southern, western, and northern directions, the four intermediate directions, the upward and the downward, are likewise so.”

What must be asked is this: leaping from a heap of sand to the worlds, is the stride not too great? It is not. A heap of sand and the worlds, in the eyes of the knowledge that calculates, are one and the same matter—both are a multiplicity having differences, having sequence, having a manner of abiding. The sūtra text says pointedly “differences of every sort and the manner in which they abide according to their sequence,” which is not saying how many worlds there are, but saying how each world rests in its own place.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that this stretch is speaking of astronomy. What the sūtra text calculates is ‘difference’ and ‘sequence’—it is order, not quantity. Brought down to the ground: only the person who can see the order can calculate the number; the person who sees only the many will merely feel that it is chaos.

Calculating the Names of Worlds and the Seven Kinds of Name: From Thing to Name

A layer higher still, what is calculated is not things but names—“he is also able to calculate and know all the worlds whatsoever in the ten directions, their breadth and narrowness, their greatness and smallness, and their names,” and within this there are further “all the names of kalpas, all the names of Buddhas, all the names of dharmas, all the names of beings, all the names of deeds, all the names of bodhisattvas, and all the names of truths, all of which he knows clearly and completely.”

What must be asked is this: why is what is calculated last the names, and not the things? Because name is the utmost point of discrimination. The breadth and narrowness, the greatness and smallness of worlds are quantity; whereas these seven classes of name—kalpa, Buddha, dharma, being, deed, bodhisattva, truth—cover time, fruit, teaching, capacity, cause, practice, and principle; everything that can be discriminated is contained within them. To be able to calculate names is to know all discrimination without exception.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that knowing names is only wide reading and a strong memory. The sequence of the sūtra text is the heap of sand (the many among things), then the worlds (the order among positions), then the names (the exhausting of discrimination)—all the way from the coarse to the fine, and what is known at the end is discrimination itself. Brought down to the ground: those who study the Dharma often circle about among names and marks, and what is said here is that to calculate names and marks clear through is likewise a thoroughgoing work, and not an obstruction.

Humbling Himself and Deferring to the Superior, One: I Know Only This One Gate

The extensive manifesting of the knowledge of calculation having been set out to the end, there is a sudden turn—“I know only this dharma gate of the light of the knowledge of all craft and great supernormal power,” and then ten sentences listing the virtues of the great bodhisattvas: from “they are able to know the number of all beings whatsoever, able to know the number of the classes and kinds of all dharmas whatsoever” down to the number of the names of bodhisattvas, and with “able to know the number of all the three times whatsoever” among them.

What must be asked is this: having spoken so widely above, why does he here say that he knows ‘only’ one gate?

This is the fixed place within the outline in six parts—Chengguan, for this friend, gathers it all up with the single sentence that the remaining three parts may be known, and does not gloss them sentence by sentence. And the structure of the sūtra text itself is already clear: the ten sentences of what is deferred to are, every one of them, ‘able to know the number of …,’ which runs along the very road of his own strength, calculation. He is not deferring by saying that others have some other ability that he lacks; he is saying that in the very same matter, others have reached a degree he cannot reach.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that humbling oneself is a courtesy. The humbling of the sūtra text has content—he sets his own one gate and the bodhisattvas' ten sentences upon one and the same rod and measures them, and what is measured out is a difference of position, not a posture. Brought down to the ground: only the person who truly knows what he can do is able to say where his ability ends.

Humbling Himself and Deferring to the Superior, Two: Eleven Sentences of Rhetorical Question

After the ten sentences it turns into rhetorical question—“and how could I be able to tell out their merit, to show what they practice, to make manifest their objective realm, to praise their surpassing power,” and so on for eleven sentences, the last being “and to bring out that surpassing light of their wisdom.”

What must be asked is this: the first ten sentences say ‘able to know,’ these eleven say ‘how could I be able’; why is it arranged in this way, one straight and one reversed?

The first ten sentences are the virtue deferred to; the later eleven are the power that defers—he cannot even ‘say it out,’ let alone do it. And the verbs of these eleven sentences are worth looking at: to tell, to show, to make manifest, to praise, to set out, to proclaim, to make plain, to extol, to expound, to set forth, to bring out—all of them matters of speech. He does not say ‘I cannot practice it’; what he says is ‘I cannot say it.’

Set aside a misreading: the notion that words of humility are self-belittlement. Brought down to the ground: a person comes to reverence only when he reaches the place where he cannot say it all; and reverence once risen, he can walk the next stretch of road—which is why the sentence following the humbling and deferring must be the pointing to the next friend.

Pointing to the Next Friend: The Laywoman Fully Endowed in the City of Ocean Abiding to the South

After deferring to the superior he points the way—“here, to the south, there is a great city named Ocean Abiding; and there is a laywoman named Fully Endowed,” with the charge, “go to her and ask: how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva.”

What must be asked is this: why is the question he is charged with still the very sentence Sudhana asked on arriving? On arriving he asked “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva? how is he to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”; the charge here reads “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva,” one “how” fewer, and the sense of the question runs on unchanged. Because the question has not changed; what has changed is the one who can answer it. What a good friend gives is not the answer, but the next person who can answer.

Li Tongxuan outlines this stretch as ‘the gate of deferring to virtue and advancing upward,’ and lists the name of the city, the name of the person, and the taking of leave each as a gate of its own, which makes plain that the pointing of the way is itself a part of the Dharma and not a closing remark.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that pointing to the next friend is only a transition in the composition. Brought down to the ground: the most essential sentence a good friend gives is often not the dharma he confers, but the next person he points out.

Cherishing His Virtue and Taking Leave, One: What Happened in His Body After Hearing the Dharma

Sudhana having heard him out, the sūtra text writes of his body—“having heard these words, the hairs of his whole body stood up, and he was joyful and leapt”—and then of his mind—“he obtained a mind of rare faith and delight, precious as a jewel, and accomplished a vast mind that benefits beings.”

What must be asked is this: why write of the hairs standing up? Because that is the body knowing it first. To hear the Dharma and be moved within—what moves first is the body, what rises after is joy, and what is accomplished then is the mind. The minds accomplished in the sūtra text are two: one is the mind of faith and delight precious as a jewel (facing upward), and one is the vast mind that benefits beings (facing downward)—the use received by oneself and the use received by others accomplished at once, which fits exactly the name of benefit belonging to this position. Li Tongxuan points out here besides what the standing up of the hairs comes of: “as for the hairs of Sudhana's whole body standing up when he had heard, it is because at hearing the name Fully Endowed his glad mind was startled into delight.” What was heard is exactly the name of the next friend, Fully Endowed—the hairs standing up are a glad mind startled into delight, not emotion at large. And why that name should startle anyone into delight Tongxuan has already glossed above: that the city is named Ocean Abiding “signifies that this laywoman is able to hold the multitude of virtues as the ocean does”—the sense of an ocean lies in its holding, the multitude of virtues entering it without overflowing; that the person is named Fully Endowed “makes plain that the name is set up upon her virtue,” and Tongxuan, upon her “abiding within this perfection of patience and being complete in the ten perfections,” matches them one perfection at a time and concludes, “because she is complete in the ten perfections such as these, and in the four means of gathering in, and in the four immeasurables, she is therefore named Fully Endowed.” So the two words Fully Endowed are not a term of praise but the actual presence of the ten perfections, the four means of gathering in, and the four immeasurables. It is exactly this name that Sudhana heard.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that being moved is obtaining the Dharma. What follows immediately upon the being moved in the sūtra text is seven sentences of real obtaining. Brought down to the ground: if after hearing the Dharma there is only the emotion left and nothing obtained, that stretch of joy simply passes away.

Cherishing His Virtue and Taking Leave, Two: The Seven Sentences of What Was Obtained

Below this is what was obtained—“being able to see in full clarity the sequence in which all Buddhas whatsoever arise in the world,” “being able to penetrate in full the pure Dharma-wheel of profound wisdom,” “appearing in his body wherever he might be within all the destinies, and knowing the objective realm in which the three times are equal,” “bringing forth an inexhaustible ocean of merit,” and coming to rest at last upon “sending forth the sovereign light of great wisdom, and opening all the bolts and locks of the city of the three kinds of existence.”

What must be asked is this: what have these seven sentences to do with the dharma this boy conferred? Very much. What he is strong in is calculating—calculating sequence, calculating worlds, calculating names; and the first sentence of what Sudhana obtains is precisely seeing in full clarity the sequence in which the Buddhas arise, which is still sequence; and knowing the objective realm in which the three times are equal is still the number of the three times. What is obtained and what was conferred lie along one line; it is only that the knowledge that calculates has turned into the realm that is realized.

And the last sentence comes to rest upon an act—“opening all the bolts and locks of the city of the three kinds of existence.” The first six sentences are all still virtue; the last sentence is an active use: the city of the three kinds of existence was locked, and now the key has opened it. Brought down to the ground: what makes the Dharma the Dharma does not lie in how many objective realms have been obtained, but in whether a door that could not be opened before has been opened.

Cherishing His Virtue and Taking Leave, Three: Bowing, Gazing Up, Departing

What was obtained being made plain, this section closes with four sentences—“he bowed to the feet beneath him, circled him measureless times, gazed up at him with earnest devotion, took his leave, and departed.”

What must be asked is this: a stretch of visiting having already obtained its dharma, why write out the rites of departure word for word? Because these four sentences are exactly the two matters, cherishing the virtue and taking leave, written together: bowing to the feet beneath him is reverence for the person; circling measureless times is reverence without end—in taking leave of the previous friends too the sūtra text writes the circling as numberless times or measureless times, and here it is the same, which uses the countless to figure that the virtue received cannot be measured; gazing up with earnest devotion is the eye not yet parted while the body is about to go, and the feeling of cherishing the virtue lies in these four Chinese characters 「慇懃瞻仰」 tr. “gazing up with earnest devotion”; taking his leave and departing is the taking of leave. The order of the four sentences runs from reverence to cherishing, and from cherishing to going. Li Tongxuan outlines this one sentence as the last of the five gates of the gate of deferring to virtue and advancing upward, ‘paying respect, taking leave, and departing,’ taking it that this rite of departure is itself one joint of the Dharma and not a closing remark of the composition.

Set aside a misreading: the notion that departing is the end of this visit. The ‘departing’ of the sūtra text is a departing toward the next good friend—and the sixty-fascicle text here further makes its direction plain, having ‘took his leave and journeyed south.’ To obtain the dharma and not depart is to leave the dharma standing still in one person; to depart without cherishing the virtue is to make light of what was obtained. Brought down to the ground: the way a person looks when he leaves, if he has truly received the teaching of a master, is the very shape of the dharma he obtained.

Lineage

What the sūtra text of this section opens into lies in no treatise; it lies along two lines, the assigning of the position and the essence of the precepts.

The first is the line of the assigned position. Chengguan judges this friend to be “the second, Sovereign Master, assigned to the Beneficial Practice,” which comes down from the matching of positions made by the ancient worthies, and is not something the sūtra text marks of itself. Chengguan has his own balanced word at the general outline of this assembly—“both have their reason; that is, since each single position holds many dharma gates, how could it be that the ordinary mind is unable to practice and seek the dharma of the good friend? Therefore not to match has its reason. Yet within the absence of position in sequence the sequence of positions is not obstructed, and to manifest position is the constant rule, so that to match is likewise no fault.” Both to match and not to match have their reason, and to match does not obstruct its not being a sequence. As for where the sense of benefit lies, what the ancient worthies attach it to is in every case the precepts. Chengguan's Yanyi chao attaches it to the three groups—“the three groups of pure precepts are able to benefit self and other, and so it is called Beneficial.” Zhiyan's Huayan jing kongmu zhang, at the general gloss on the names of the ten practices one by one, matches the ten perfections to the ten practices, its sentence-pattern running “such-and-such accomplishes … and so the nth is named …,” and what the second, the Beneficial Practice, carries on from is the precepts—“the precepts accomplish the benefit of self and other, and so the second is named the Beneficial Practice”; as for “patience accomplishes the absence of anger and hatred in self and other,” what it carries is the next sentence, “the third is named the Practice Free of Anger and Hatred,” and it does not belong to this position. The Kongmu zhang again, at its particular gloss upon the good friends of the ten practices one by one, says of the second good friend of this section that it is “what the precepts of nature accomplish.” The one speaks of the precepts by way of the sequence of the ten perfections, the other by way of the benefiting power of the three groups, while the two words ‘self and other’ are the same in both. Recorded without judgment.

The second is the line of the essence of the precepts. Li Tongxuan takes the precepts as running through the five positions, each position taking its own essence: “this is the perfection of moral discipline as master within the Beneficial Practice, with the remaining nine as companions”; the essence of the precepts in the ten faiths is “as in the ten faiths, it is fearing offense, cultivating merit, and the practice that leaves the world behind that is the essence of the precepts”—to fear offense and cultivate merit, and the practice that leaves the world behind: the essence lies there; the essence of the precepts in the ten abodes is “in the previous ten abodes it is only the dharma-body, the nature of dharmas, and principle and knowledge that are the essence of the precepts”; the essence of the precepts in the ten dedications is “in the ten dedications it is the sea-captain's skill in entering the sea of birth-and-death that is the essence of the precepts”—a sea-captain enters and is not drowned, and what the position of dedication takes is exactly that skill in entering; and the essence of the precepts in the ten grounds is “in the ten grounds it is the cultivation of great compassion that is the essence of the precepts”; and he sums it up, “according to the five positions the essence of the precepts differs as it advances upward, and being run through by knowledge, within one position all five positions are complete.” And in both places Tongxuan is able to name the person: the essence of the precepts in the ten abodes, which is principle and knowledge, “is the monk who contemplates the sea of birth-and-death of the twelve limbs of existence as the sea of the Buddha's knowledge”; the essence of the precepts in the ten grounds, which is great compassion, “is the night-goddess Gladsome Eye Who Observes Beings,” and upon her station he says, “she is on the Buddha's right side; the left is knowledge and the right is compassion.” The essence of the precepts is not a name set up in the void; it is something of which the very good friend can be named. It is one and the same word ‘precepts,’ and yet upon different positions the essence taken is different—this is the eye with which the line of Tongxuan reads the ten practices.

The third is the cross-reading of the method of calculation. The position names of calculation in this section run in common with the numbers set out in another chapter of this sūtra, and yet the mind that calculates is not the same. Li Tongxuan sets up a division here: “this is the bodhisattva's practice, knowing by calculating with a method,” whereas “in that chapter on the Asaṃkhyeya, the Buddha's knowledge being full, the eye of knowledge knows of itself and naturally, and no method of calculation is needed.” The bodhisattva uses a method and calculates; the Buddha's eye of knowledge knows of itself—one and the same pile of numbers, and because the position and stage differ, the way it is taken differs too.

The fourth is the line of the translations. The good friend of this stretch is, in the eighty-fascicle text, the boy Sovereign Master, while in the sixty-fascicle text and in the texts relied upon by Fazang and by Zhiyan he is the boy Lord of the Gods; Fazang, upon the closeness of the Sanskrit names, sets up the reading that each is grounded in one of the names, and glosses him thus: “as for the boy being named Lord of the Gods, ‘boy’ signifies the purity of the practice of the precepts; being sovereign in the precepts, he is named Lord of the Gods.” Zhiyan, upon the sixty-fascicle text, sets up the order of the position and says, “The bodhisattva of the twelfth, the Beneficial Practice: the boy is named Lord of the Gods, and he enters the dharma gate of the wisdom of skillful arts.” Zhiyan also sets up an outline for the virtue and function of this stretch: first the general setting out of the virtue and function of the powers of the three methods, the marks and moles, calculation, and seals, “within which there are two, first the general and next the particular”; then the particular setting out of the virtue and function of calculation, “of which there are three, namely one, straight reckoning; two, multiplying and dividing; three, its powers, which may be known”; and for the portion of deferring to the superior, “first the setting out of the marks, second the conclusion.” Zhiyan further sets up, for the one portion in which Sudhana enters in accord with the teaching, that “the second, the measures of faith, are eight,” dividing the whole road of the visit section by section: first, “accomplishing the dharma gate that went before,” which carries on what the previous friend bestowed; second, “calling the person to mind and taking leave”; third, “making plain the place reached,” the land to which he came with the gods and dragons and their retinue; fourth, “choosing in accord with the teaching,” which is his searching everywhere; fifth, “the skillful guidance shown by the good friend,” upon which Zhiyan notes, “it is only the aiding of the path”—the announcement of the gods and dragons in the air belongs to the aiding of the path, not to the direct exposition; sixth, “seeing his marks,” which is seeing the boy at play with sand; seventh, “drawing near and paying reverence,” the bowing to his feet and circling him; eighth, “telling of his own raising of the mind and making his request,” which is his saying that he had first raised the mind of bodhi and then asking after the practice. The eight being divided, every step between taking leave of the previous friend and questioning the next one falls within the measures of faith—it is not that the road is empty and the matter begins only at the meeting. The eighty-fascicle text has no item of the marks and moles, and yet the three senses of straight reckoning, of multiplying and dividing, and of the powers can be held against the method of calculation of this stretch as one reads it. The names are two, and the sense they attach to is one: sovereignty in the precepts. These several houses each have their own track, and they are recorded without judgment of high or low.

The fifth is the one stretch the forty-fascicle text alone has. Upon this same friend the forty-fascicle Avataṃsaka translated by Prajña brings out, after the working, one long stretch: it sets out the eighteen crafts and the sixty-two treatises of the attendant sciences; upon the science of the inner it sets up four causes and conditions to make plain the arising of consciousness—“first, that the eye faculty takes in the object of form; second, by the habit-energy of grasping and clinging that is without beginning; third, by the very nature of that consciousness itself; fourth, by the act of attention upon the object of form”: the first is the faculty taking in its object, the second the habit of grasping from a beginningless past, the third the nature of consciousness itself, the fourth the attention raised upon the object of form, and it is the four together that give birth to the waves of consciousness; with the three similes of the torrent, the bright mirror, and the wind blowing upon the ocean it sets out the marks of the waves of consciousness, and each of the three similes makes plain its own thing—what the torrent makes plain is succession unbroken, “the waves of consciousness arise, as a torrent does, in unbroken succession”; what the bright mirror makes plain is the manifesting of all at one moment, “just as a bright mirror manifests all images at once, so it is with the consciousnesses, which at times manifest all at once,” and not one after another; what the wind blowing upon the ocean makes plain is the wind of objects stirring the ocean of mind, “by the wind of the objective realm the still ocean of mind is blown, and the waves of consciousness arise, in unbroken succession.” And at the last it comes to the store consciousness and the seven consciousnesses being neither one nor different—“that store consciousness never says of itself, I give birth to the seven consciousnesses, nor do the seven consciousnesses say that they are born of the store; it is only that one's own mind grasps at the marks of objects and they arise by discrimination”—and it bounds of itself who is able to know it: “the mark of the working of this profound store consciousness, subtle and fine to its utmost limit, is penetrated only by the Tathāgatas and the bodhisattvas who abide in the grounds.” Neither the eighty-fascicle nor the sixty-fascicle text has any counterpart text here at all. Whether this stretch is present or absent belongs to the difference of the translations; it is plainly marked as belonging to the forty-fascicle text alone, and recorded without judgment.

The text of one section: the first half is worldly craft, the second half is a great number that cannot be spoken. And where it comes to rest there is only one sentence—he says he knows only one gate, and then points out the next person. Craft calculated to its utmost is still a quantity; and only in acknowledging that one has a quantity does the road join on ahead.

Before Setting Out, Sudhana First Thinks the Teaching of the Previous Good Friend into Ten Similes

Sudhana has taken his leave of the boy Sovereign Master, and the sūtra text does not let him go at once, but first writes of him contemplating and thinking upon the teaching of the previous good friend. The opening sentence first likens his mind to the ocean—“At that time, the youth Sudhana contemplated and thought upon the teaching of the good friend, as the vast ocean receives the rain of the great clouds without ever being satisfied”—the ocean receives the rain and is not wearied by it, which says that he receives the teaching and does not take it to be enough.

Then within his own heart he sets up nine similes, every sentence beginning with the four graphs ‘the teaching of a good friend’: the sun of spring growing the roots and sprouts of wholesome dharmas; the full moon, and wherever it shines all becomes cool; the snow mountains in summer taking away the heat and thirst of the beasts; the sun on a fragrant pool opening the lotuses of the wholesome mind; the great island of jewels filling his mind with the jewels of the Dharma; the Jambu tree heaping up the flowers and fruits of merit and knowledge; the great dragon king sporting sovereign in empty space; Mount Sumeru with its measureless wholesome dharmas, where the gods of the Thirty-Three dwell; and Śakra, whom the assembly surrounds and who is able to subdue the hosts of the outsiders and the asuras. Counting in the vast ocean of the opening, one passage holds ten similes in all.

A misreading is to be set aside: that the ten similes are only a spreading out of words. Look at their order and you will know it is not so—the vast ocean of the opening first sets up the measure of receiving the teaching, and the nine below it fall of themselves into two clusters: the first five all take images of growing and nourishing and moistening (sun, moon, snow, pool, island), and the latter four all turn to images of height and greatness and gathering under (tree, dragon, mountain, Śakra). First moistened, then able to gather in—this is exactly the sequence by which the mind of one who studies grows to its size after receiving a teaching.

Brought down to the ground: before you leave a teacher, first think what he has given you into a few sentences of your own. If you cannot think them out, you have not yet received it.

Why This City Is Called Ocean Abiding and This Good Friend Is Called Fully Endowed

The sūtra text writes only “stage by stage he walked on, until he came to the city of Ocean Abiding, and he searched from place to place for this laywoman”—three things in a single sentence: walking on slowly, arriving at a certain city, searching everywhere. Neither the name of the city nor the name of the friend is explained by the sūtra text; the explanation comes from Chengguan.

Chengguan glosses the name of the city on two levels: one upon the fact, “as for the city being named Ocean Abiding, it is because it abides near the ocean”; one upon the Dharma, “abiding in forbearance, which contains all as the ocean does.” His gloss on the name of the friend he ties to the vessel—“as for the friend being named Fully Endowed, it is because within the one vessel there is nothing that is not fully there, and the vessel of forbearance holds every virtue everywhere.” And he sets out why this one appears in the body of a woman: “forbearance is gentle and mild, and so the position is assigned to a woman.”

Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, brings out two other glosses, one that this city abides near the southern sea, and one that “if we go by the text below, what goes forth from her is wealth and Dharma, and the giving cannot be exhausted, and so it is called Ocean Abiding”; while Li Tongxuan says “as for the city being named Ocean Abiding, it signifies that this laywoman is able to contain the many virtues as the ocean does.” The sense each of the three houses takes is different, and all of them are glosses of the commentators; the sūtra text itself has none of these explanations.

Brought down to the ground: in reading the fifty-three visits, when you meet the name of a city and the name of a person, do not skip over them—it is often just upon these two names that the ancient worthies point out the eye of a visit.

That House: First Written at Its Utmost Abundance, Then Turned in One Sentence to the Utmost Bareness

The way the passage of seeing the circumstantial reward is written is worth looking at closely. First the abundance: “that house was vast and broad, adorned in every kind of way, with walls of massed jewels encircling it round about, and on all four sides were gates adorned with jewels”; and after he enters it writes again, “within her house were spread ten koṭis of seats, surpassing all there is among men and among gods, all of them brought to completion by the power of a bodhisattva's deeds.” Ten koṭis of seats, and surpassing all there is among men and gods besides—abundant beyond any further abundance.

Then the very next sentence turns the whole of it over: “in the house there were no garments, no food and drink, nor any of the other things whatever that sustain life; there was only, set down before her seat, one small vessel.”

A misreading is to be set aside: that the two contradict each other. It is not contradiction, it is the way of the writing. There are ten koṭis of seats, and that is in order to receive people; there is not one single thing that sustains life, and that is in order to make the vessel show. The utmost abundance and the utmost emptiness are set side by side in one passage, and at the end it comes to rest upon nothing but one small vessel—every working in the whole of this section afterward comes out of this one vessel.

Chengguan has a sentence upon what it signifies: “Further, it signifies that forbearance must abase itself, and so it is the small forbearance in dharmas.” The vessel is small precisely because the character of forbearance is to abase itself and put itself below others. This sentence stands in the Huayan jing shu below the general statement of the working further on, and the Yanyi chao judges that “above, the explanation is made simply upon the circumstantial reward of the good friend; from here down it is made upon what the position signifies”—that is, from this sentence on it is no longer spoken upon the circumstantial reward but upon the position that is assigned; that it is cited here first is in order to see the smallness of the vessel and the lowliness of forbearance together at once. Brought down to the ground: how much a person can contain is often not to be seen from how great his display is, but from how low he is willing to put himself.

Her Appearance: Plain Garments and Loose Hair—Why This Too Is Forbearance

The passage of the direct reward writes of her as “seated upon a jeweled seat, in the fullness of her years and fair of complexion, upright and delightful to see, wearing plain garments, her hair hanging loose, with no strings of jewels upon her body,” and closes with “as for the majestic light of the form and marks of her body, apart from the Buddhas and the bodhisattvas there was none who could match it.”

Chengguan ties each of these few graphs back to forbearance: “as for upright and delightful to see, it is the recompense of forbearance”—being upright and delightful to see is the recompense brought on by cultivating forbearance; “as for the plain garments and the rest, forbearance is her flowered adornment”—the plain garments are not the absence of adornment; forbearance itself is her flowered adornment.

A misreading is to be set aside: that the plain garments and loose hair are a show of frugality. The sūtra text says immediately after that the majestic light of her body is such that none but the Buddhas and bodhisattvas can match it—from which one sees that what is taken away is the adornment outside the body, and what is made manifest is the virtue within it. Li Tongxuan, for his part, matches the marks of her whole body to the ten perfections, saying “her plain garments are pure and clean, and this is named keeping the precepts; her hair let down and her looks marred, and this is named forbearance,” a reading different from Chengguan's that comes home to practice all the same.

Brought down to the ground: in judging one who cultivates, looking at what he has taken away is a surer measure than looking at what he has added.

Ten Thousand Maidens and the Fragrance upon Their Bodies

The passage on the retinue first writes of their bearing and their voices, and then of their fragrance. The benefit that the fragrance gives rise to the sūtra text opens into fourteen sentences: the first nine are all ‘without’—without any mind of angry harming, without any mind of nursing enmity, without any mind of stinginess and envy, without any mind of flattery and deceit, without any mind of treachery and crookedness, without any mind of hatred and attachment, without any mind of wrathful anger, without any mind of lowness, without any mind of arrogance; of the latter five, four affirm and one leaves behind—the first four are ‘with’ (giving rise to a mind of equality, giving rise to a mind of great kindness, bringing forth a mind of benefiting, abiding in a mind of the rules of restraint), and the last is still a ‘leaving behind’: “they give rise to a mind of equality, give rise to a mind of great kindness, bring forth a mind of benefiting, abide in a mind of the rules of restraint, and leave behind the mind of greedy seeking.”

Besides these fourteen sentences there are three further benefits, and they are not to be read as though swallowed up in the fourteen. The first stands before the fourteen: the sūtra text says of those who meet the fragrance that they “are made able to turn back no more”—this is the general heading, and what the fragrance first brings about is not some one mind but that the mind already given rise to turns back no more; with this sentence in place, the fourteen below it are said upon a ground of not turning back. The second and the third stand after the fourteen, and pass over to voice and to body: “those who hear their voices rejoice and leap for joy; those who see the forms of their bodies are all set far from greedy defilement.” The fragrance perfumes the mind, the voice raises up gladness, the body stills defilement—all three doors of this retinue, body, speech, and mind, are benefiting others, and not the fragrance alone.

Look at the content of these nine ‘withouts’: anger, nursed enmity, stinginess and envy, flattery and deceit, treachery and crookedness, hatred and attachment, wrathful anger, lowness, arrogance—by and large all of them are minds that go against other people, and among them anger, nursed enmity, wrathful anger, and arrogance are especially the very face of opposition. Since this one is assigned to the practice of non-opposition, what the retinue is perfumed into is precisely non-opposition. Chengguan therefore says “fourth, from ‘there were also’ onward, it sets out that the ten thousand practices of her retinue all accord with forbearance”—ten thousand maidens are ten thousand practices, and every practice accords with forbearance.

A misreading is to be set aside: that the retinue is only display. The sūtra text writes of them as “always at her left and right, drawing near, gazing up, thinking upon her and contemplating her, bending their bodies and lowering their heads, acting in accord with her instruction,” and this is practice; it writes of the marvelous fragrance sent forth from their bodies that frees people from nine kinds of opposing mind, and this is the working of practice. Brought down to the ground: what the people a person brings with him are like is the verification of his dharma gate.

Sudhana's Question: The One Question That Runs On in the Same Purport

Having met her, Sudhana bows his head, circles her, joins his palms, and then asks: “Holy one! I have already given rise beforehand to the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi, and yet I do not know how a bodhisattva is to study the practice of a bodhisattva? How is he to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva? I have heard that the holy one is well able to draw others on and to instruct them; I pray that you will expound it for me!”

This one question is complete in three parts: first he reports where he has already come to (he has already given rise to the mind of awakening), next he says what he himself lacks (he does not know how to study, how to cultivate), and last he says why he has come to ask this person (he has heard that she is well able to draw others on and instruct them). The sixty-fascicle text has ‘Great Holy One’ here and lacks the last sentence of request; the eighty-fascicle text has ‘Holy one’ and the request is complete.

A misreading is to be set aside: that to ask about the Dharma is to ask for a conclusion. What Sudhana asks is ‘how is he to study’ and ‘how is he to cultivate’—both sentences are method, not fruit. And this one question he will ask again when he reaches the next good friend: the question she charges him with at the close of this section, “how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva,” runs on in the same purport as what he asks here, only that the second ‘how’ is not brought out again. What changes is not the question; it is the depth of the one who can answer it.

Brought down to the ground: a true question can be asked for a lifetime. There is no need to change to a new question at every visit; what changes is how much of the answer you can understand.

The Name of the Dharma Gate: The Liberation Gate of the Inexhaustible Treasury of Merit

The first sentence of her answer is nothing but a name: “Son of good family! I have obtained the bodhisattva's liberation gate of the inexhaustible treasury of merit.”

Chengguan, in glossing this name, holds fast to that vessel: “things come forth from the vessel, and the merit it raises up is inexhaustible; it is what is brought on by the merit that matches the Dharma realm.”—Thus it is called inexhaustible because what comes forth from the vessel comes to no end; and it is called a treasury of merit because this is brought on by a merit that answers to the Dharma realm.

In the sixty-fascicle text this gate reads ‘the dharma gate of the adornment of the inexhaustible treasury of merit and virtue,’ and Fazang divides this name and glosses it in two parts, saying “because the working it brings forth is without exhaustion, it is named the inexhaustible treasury. Because what comes forth to benefit things is furnished with surpassing virtue, it is named the adornment of merit and virtue.” The names in the two texts differ, and the sense that both attach to lies in the four graphs ‘it comes forth and is not used up.’

A misreading is to be set aside: that a treasury of merit means she has stored up a great deal. The sūtra text says plainly further on that there is not one single thing in the house—a treasury is not in the hoarding, it is in the bringing forth. Brought down to the ground: in examining your own ‘treasury,’ do not look at how much is stored, look at how much can be brought out.

How One Small Vessel Feeds the Ten Directions Full

The first passage of the working is the benefiting of beings. The way the sūtra text writes it is by piling number upon number: first a hundred beings, a thousand beings, a hundred thousand beings, a koṭi of beings, on up to a hundred thousand koṭis of Nayutas of beings and unspeakably unspeakably many beings; then it turns to measures of dust motes, beings as many as the dust motes of Jambudvīpa, beings as many as the dust motes of one set of four continents, on to beings as many as the dust motes of unspeakably unspeakably many Buddha-lands; and at the end it gathers all up by the quarters: “suppose there be all the beings of the worlds of the ten directions—according to their desires and delights I let them all be filled.”

Then only one sentence is set down on the reverse side: “and yet that food and drink comes to no end, nor does it grow less.” All that is added is on the side of those who receive; what does not grow less is on the side of the vessel that brings forth.

A further passage follows that must not be passed over: the sūtra text says “and as it is with food and drink, so is it with all the various fine savors, the various beds and seats, the various garments,” and so on, repeating ‘various’ over seventeen things, down to “the various finest things that sustain life.” This passage is not a spreading out of words; it carries the working of the dharma gate over from food to everything that sustains life. What went before was one vessel bringing forth food; what is said here is one vessel bringing forth whatever is needed—utensils of use (fine savors, beds and seats, garments, bedding, carriages), things of perfume and flower (flowers, garlands, perfumes, perfumes for anointing, perfumes for burning, powdered perfumes), and things of the class of jeweled ornament and banner and canopy (precious things, strings of jewels, banners, pennants, canopies, gathered up at the end by the finest things that sustain life). Chengguan outlines this passage as ‘bringing forward one and turning out the rest’—taking the one matter of food and drink for an example, and all the other things turned out after it in the same way. So in reading this gate one must not remember only that ‘one vessel brings forth rice’: whatever beings need, according to what they delight in, this vessel is able to supply in full.

Upon this Chengguan sets up the most important judgment of the whole section: “because it is a utensil that matches the nature, this one small vessel is fused into sameness with the Dharma realm, and the arising by conditions is inexhaustible,” and again, “there is no use that does not answer, and no answering that does not benefit, and yet the substance of the Dharma realm is without increase or decrease.” The vessel can be inexhaustible not because its capacity is large, but because this vessel is set up as matching the nature of the Dharma realm—the vessel being fused into sameness with the Dharma realm, and the Dharma realm being inexhaustible, what comes forth from the vessel is inexhaustible; and the substance of the Dharma realm is of itself without increase or decrease, and so however much comes forth it does not grow less. Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, has a gloss of the same pattern, saying “it is only one vessel of rice, which is fused into sameness with the Dharma realm, the arising by conditions being inexhaustible.”

A misreading is to be set aside: reading this passage as a matter of supernormal power. Chengguan judges it clearly—this is the principle of the arising by conditions of the Dharma realm made manifest upon a single vessel, not a matter of anyone's great ability. Brought down to the ground: in reading the Avataṃsaka, when you meet a place where the quantities do not fit ordinary experience, first ask what principle it is tied to, and do not first ask whether it is possible.

What Makes a Vessel a Vessel Is That It Is Empty in the Middle

Chengguan has three finer sentences still in glossing the vessel: “being the same as suchness in one savor makes it one”; “being empty within and provisional without makes it a vessel”; “because forbearance is able to contain with nothing outside it, what comes forth from it is inexhaustible.”

The Yanyi chao opens these three sentences out. It first distinguishes the levels, saying “above, the explanation is made simply upon the circumstantial reward of the good friend; from here down it is made upon what the position signifies”—above is the explanation upon her dwelling place, and from here on it is the explanation upon the position assigned. It then glosses the relation of lowliness and containing: “forbearance must be humble and low, and being low it cannot be got past, and so being small it contains greatly.” And it glosses the two graphs ‘the same as suchness’: “above, it runs through the three forbearances; the forbearance in dharmas is the same as suchness, which is the forbearance of examining dharmas.”

Most important of all is that, in glossing ‘empty within and provisional without,’ it borrows a sentence from an outside book: “clay is kneaded to make a vessel, and where there is nothing, there is the use of the vessel; that is, the provisional is what is able to be used.”—Clay is worked into a vessel, and the reason the vessel has any use lies exactly in that ‘nothing’ in the middle of it. It goes on to say “that is, the empty is able to be great, since there is nothing that is not brought to completion in emptiness. Therefore, by way of the provisional without, there is that which is used within,” and it closes with “without the empty the provisional is not brought to completion, and so the empty is able to contain much. These two are not two: this is the vessel of the Middle Way.”

A misreading is to be set aside: that emptiness and existence are two separate things. It is said plainly here that the shape outside is the provisional and the hollow within is the empty, and let either of the two be missing and the vessel is no vessel. Brought down to the ground: how much space a person is willing to leave is how much he can take on. One who is filled up can have nothing put into him.

Those of the Two Vehicles Eat This Meal and Realize Their Fruit—What Has This to Do with Forbearance

The second passage of the working is the benefiting of the two vehicles. The sūtra text says that the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas within one world in the eastern quarter, “having eaten my food, all realize the fruit of a śrāvaka and of a pratyekabuddha, and abide in the last body,” and then piles up the number of worlds all the way to the dust motes of unspeakably unspeakably many Buddha-lands, gathering in the ten directions at the end with “and as it is in the eastern quarter, so is it in the southern, the western, and the northern quarters, in the four intermediate directions, above and below.”

Here a question follows of itself: what this visit is assigned to is forbearance, and yet in the dharma of the two vehicles no term of forbearance is set up; how then do those of the two vehicles eat this food and obtain their fruit? Chengguan answers this with a single sentence: “although the two vehicles do not set up the term forbearance, it is still by forbearing to the end of the principle of no-arising that their fruit is brought to completion.”—The name is not set up, but the fact is not lacking; the fruit of the two vehicles must be brought to completion by forbearance reaching the principle of no-arising, and so for them too this food is a food that answers to them.

A misreading is to be set aside: that a dharma gate benefits only people of the same vehicle. The sūtra text says plainly that this food benefits the two vehicles as well. Brought down to the ground: the verification of a true dharma gate is whether it can benefit those who do not use its name.

The Bodhisattva Bound to One More Birth Eats This Meal and Attains the Way beneath the Tree

The third passage of the working is the benefiting of bodhisattvas. The sūtra text says that within worlds as many as the dust motes of unspeakably unspeakably many Buddha-lands, all the bodhisattvas bound to one more birth, “having eaten my food, all sit upon the seat of awakening beneath the tree of awakening, subdue the armies of Māra, and attain anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi.”

Chengguan here divides the gloss into the gate of fact and the gate of Dharma. Upon fact he says: “upon fact, it is like the receiving of the milk-gruel”—as the World-Honored One, before he first attained the way, received the milk-gruel of the cowherd girl, and having eaten it attained the way; this is the likeness upon the side of fact. Upon Dharma he says: “upon Dharma, it means that they feed upon the forbearance of quiescent cessation of the highest grade, and thereby obtain awakening”—what is eaten is in truth the forbearance of quiescent cessation of the highest grade, and it is by forbearance that awakening is obtained. The Yanyi chao supplies the ground for this sentence, saying “because the highest grade belongs to the Buddhas,” and points to the Chapter on the Ten Forbearances of this sūtra.

Chengguan then points out a cross-reading: “the Fragrance Accumulated of the Jingming is largely the same as this”—the rice of the Buddha Fragrance Accumulated in the Vimalakīrti Sūtra, which those who eat it obtain the fruit by, is of the same pattern as this passage. The Yanyi chao supplies the reason for this sentence too: “it means that, having received the food, they obtain the holy fruit and the rest.”

A misreading is to be set aside: that the food itself has power. The Yanyi chao states the difference between the two sūtras very clearly at the end—the rice of that sūtra runs through principle, knowledge, and great compassion, while the food of this passage “here is assigned to a position, and so it signifies forbearance.” Both alike are texts in which benefit is brought to completion by food, but the position assigned differs, and so what is signified differs. Brought down to the ground: in reading two passages that resemble each other, first ask where each of them is assigned, and do not hurry to say that they are the same thing.

Do You See These Ten Thousand Maidens: Thirty-One Sentences of ‘Same’

The third passage of the working having been spoken, she then asks Sudhana a question: “Son of good family! Do you see these ten thousand maidens of my retinue?” Sudhana answers: “I have seen them.”

Only then does she tell where these ten thousand come from: these ten thousand maidens are the foremost among them, and of a retinue such as this there are a million asaṃkhyeyas; and between them and her the sūtra text runs down thirty-one sentences carried by the graph ‘same’—the same in practice, the same in vow, the same in roots of goodness, all the way to “the same in abiding in the pure ground of a bodhisattva's practice.” The commentators divide the thirty-one sentences no further; here, for ease of reading, they are recited in three clusters following the order of the sūtra text, ten, eleven, and ten, without setting up separate names for them.

Each of the three clusters has its own weight. The first ten (the same in practice, in vow, in roots of goodness, in the path of going forth, in pure resolve, in pure mindfulness, in pure inclination, in measureless awakening, in the faculties obtained, in vastness of mind) are the same in the very frame of the cause: practice, vow, and roots of goodness are what is cultivated, and the path of going forth is what it is set toward; pure resolve, pure mindfulness, and pure inclination run on together, speaking of purity at the three places of the mind's understanding, its remembering, and its leaning; measureless awakening and the faculties obtained are the awakening and the faculties brought to completion, and vastness of mind gathers them up. What is shared is not one occasion of practicing together, but the whole frame of the cultivation of the cause.

The middle eleven (the same in the realm wherein they act, in principle, in meaning, in clear understanding of the dharmas, in purity of form and marks, in measureless power, in the highest energy, in the voice of the right Dharma, in the voice according with the kinds of beings, in the pure and foremost voice, in praising measureless pure merit and virtue) pass over to what is realized and what is used: the realm wherein they act is what is faced; principle and meaning are set side by side and not folded into one, from which it may be seen that what is shared is not only the principle awakened to but the meaning understood as well; clear understanding of the dharmas is the reaching, purity of form and marks the showing forth of the marks, measureless power and the highest energy the strength and the diligence. The three sentences that follow all speak upon the voice—the voice of the right Dharma upon the Dharma spoken, the voice according with the kinds of beings upon those it meets, the pure and foremost voice upon the virtue of the voice itself—and the last, “the same in praising measureless pure merit and virtue,” praises virtue by that voice. That a company can be the same even down to their voices shows that what is shared no longer stops within the mind.

The last ten (the same in pure deeds, in pure recompense, in guarding and rescuing all everywhere with great kindness, in bringing beings everywhere to ripeness with great compassion, in pure bodily deeds, in pure verbal deeds, in going to the seats of awakening where all the Buddhas hold their assemblies, in going to all Buddha-lands to make offerings to the Buddhas, in being able to see all the dharma gates manifest before them, in abiding in the pure ground of a bodhisattva's practice) come to rest upon the benefiting of others and upon the ground of the position: pure deeds and pure recompense are a pair of cause and fruit; kindness and compassion are a pair, and the sūtra text sets a limiting phrase upon each—kindness “guarding and rescuing all everywhere,” compassion “bringing beings everywhere to ripeness,” the one relieving their suffering, the other ripening them; bodily deeds and verbal deeds are a pair, and each too is limited—bodily deeds “arising according to conditions and gladdening those who see them,” verbal deeds “according with the speech of the world and proclaiming the transformation of the Dharma”; going to the seats of awakening and making offerings to the Buddhas are a pair, the reach of the practice; and the last two, “being able to see all the dharma gates manifest before them” and “abiding in the pure ground of a bodhisattva's practice,” close it off, the one upon the fullness of understanding, the other upon being settled in the position. Read straight down, the thirty-one sentences move from cause to fruit, from realization to use, and from use to position.

The place of this question and answer is to be noticed: it is only after the working has been spoken that she asks ‘do you see them.’ What went before was the use of the vessel; what is spoken here is the realization of those who practice together with her. Chengguan outlines this passage as ‘letting him see that the benefit is shared’—it is not the speaking of another dharma, but the pointing out, in people before his eyes, of the use that has been spoken of already.

In the sixty-fascicle text this list runs to twenty-eight sentences, and moreover those who practice together are called simply ‘a million asaṃkhyeyas of bodhisattvas,’ not a retinue of maidens; Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, judges that “first, bringing forward that her own retinue is the same in recompense and practice and the rest, there are twenty-eight sentences,” and divides the twenty-eight into three clusters.

Brought down to the ground: to see whether a dharma gate is genuine, look at whether the group of people who follow this person are walking upon the same road.

Wait a Little While: She Lets Sudhana See It with His Own Eyes

Having pointed out the retinue who practice together, she says that these ten thousand maidens are able to take food out of this vessel and “in the space of a single instant reach everywhere throughout the ten directions,” making offerings to bodhisattvas in their last body, to śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas, on down to reaching the destiny of the hungry ghosts, and letting them all be filled; and she says further that this vessel can bring forth the food of the gods in the heavens and the food of men in the world of men. Then she says: “Son of good family! Wait a little while, and you will see it for yourself.”

The sūtra text then writes what happened on the spot: “just as she was saying this, Sudhana saw measureless beings entering by the four gates, all of them summoned by the original vow of the laywoman.” Those who came sat down, and according to what they needed food and drink was given to them, and all ate their fill.

Chengguan outlines this as ‘letting him verify it with his own eyes’—the bringing forward of the name and substance of the dharma gate before this is hearing, the speaking of the working in the middle is understanding, and this is verifying. The order of these three steps cannot be reversed: first know that there is such a gate, then know its use, and last see it once with one's own eyes.

A misreading is to be set aside: that verifying with the eyes is to win people's trust. Notice the sentence the sūtra text adds, ‘all of them summoned by the original vow of the laywoman’—those who came were not passing by; they were called by her original vow. Brought down to the ground: verification is not a performance put on for others; it is letting the one who studies stand himself in the place where the thing happens.

Humbling Herself and Deferring to the Superior: First Marking Off One Gate, Then Deferring to the Bodhisattvas, and Last Concluding That It Is Not Hers to Know

She draws her words back: “Son of good family! I know only this liberation gate of the inexhaustible treasury of merit.” She first marks off her own limit, and then, not hurrying to say what she lacks, first brings forward the merit and virtue of the bodhisattvas in eight similes: like the great ocean, profound and inexhaustible; like empty space, vast and without bound; like a wish-fulfilling jewel that satisfies the wishes of beings; like a great settlement where whatever is sought can be had; like Mount Sumeru, where the massed jewels are gathered everywhere; like a deep-hidden storehouse where the wealth of the Dharma is laid up always; like a bright lamp that breaks up all darkness; like a high canopy that shelters the multitude of the living everywhere. Only when she has brought them all forward does she say: “how then should I be able to know or to expound their practice of merit and virtue?”

Not one of the eight similes leaves the sense of ‘treasury’—the ocean and empty space speak of its measure; the wish-fulfilling jewel and the great settlement speak of its satisfying what people seek; Sumeru and the deep-hidden storehouse speak of its heaping up; the bright lamp and the high canopy speak of its shining and its sheltering. The eight similes answer exactly to the three graphs ‘treasury of merit’ in the name of her own dharma gate: what she has obtained is one treasury, and the merit and virtue of the bodhisattvas is a measureless treasury.

A misreading is to be set aside: that a word of humility is a lowering of oneself. If she said only ‘I am not equal to it,’ Sudhana would still not know where to go. Only when the surpassing places have been brought forward in full does Sudhana know where the one gate he has received stands in the whole picture. Brought down to the ground: when you tell a person your own limit, tell him at the same time what lies beyond that limit—this is what makes humility have content.

Pointing to the Next Friend: The Householder Bright Knowledge in the City of Great Prosperity to the South

At the end she points out the road: “Son of good family! To the south there is a city named Great Prosperity; there is a householder there named Bright Knowledge. Go to him and ask: how is a bodhisattva to study the practice of a bodhisattva and to cultivate the path of a bodhisattva?”

It is to be seen clearly that the question she charges him with is the same question running on from what Sudhana asked at the first, only without the second ‘how.’ What she cannot answer herself she does not answer for him in rough outline; she sends him to the one who can answer, and hands the question back into his hands in its original form.

In the sixty-fascicle text this reads as the elder ‘Sweet Dew Crest,’ not the householder Bright Knowledge; both the name and the standing differ from the eighty-fascicle text.

Brought down to the ground: when you know you cannot answer, the most useful sentence is ‘go and ask so-and-so,’ and not a forced explanation.

Cherishing Her Virtue and Taking Leave: He Withdrew and Departed

“At that time the youth Sudhana bowed to her feet, circled her measureless times, gazed up and looked to her without wearying, and then took his leave, withdrew, and departed.”

Four actions: bowing his head, circling her, gazing up, taking his leave. They answer exactly to the bowing, the reverent circling, and the standing with palms joined of his first coming; the one item added is ‘gazing up without wearying’—and the two graphs ‘without wearying’ answer, end to end, to the sentence at the opening of this whole section, ‘receiving the rain of the great clouds without ever being satisfied.’ Coming, he was not wearied of receiving the teaching; going, he was not wearied of gazing up.

Brought down to the ground: how one leaves after receiving the Dharma is, like how one arrives before seeking it, a section of the gate of practice.

Assigned to the Practice of Non-Opposition: Where This Judgment Comes From

One thing is to be set out at the last: the ‘assigned to the practice of non-opposition’ of the title of this piece is not in the sūtra text itself. This is Chengguan's outline—“the third, the laywoman Fully Endowed, is assigned to the practice of non-opposition.” The Yanyi chao glosses this name, saying “forbearance accords with the principle of things, and is named non-opposition”—to accord with the principle of things and not to run against them, and so it is called non-opposition.

Fazang and Zhiyan, upon the sixty-fascicle text, have instead ‘the practice of freedom from anger and hatred,’ the position assigned being alike the third of the ten practices, while the name used is different. The sūtra text itself has no name of a practice or a position; the name of the position is only in the commentators.

Chengguan, in his judgment upon the assigned positions of this assembly, carries on the matching made by the ancient worthies, and says evenhandedly that both accounts have their reason, and that within what has no sequence of positions there is no obstacle to there being a sequence of positions—an assigned position is a matching made in the reading, not a stage set up by the sūtra text itself. Therefore wherever this piece speaks of an ‘assigned position,’ it belongs to the judgment of the commentators, and is not to be read as something the sūtra text says of itself.

Brought down to the ground: the sequence of positions can help you see the whole picture, but do not use the sequence of positions to hem in the dharma conferred by any one good friend.

Lineage

What this section opens onto below runs along two lines, the line of names and the line of sense.

The first is the line of names. The name of this friend is Fully Endowed in the eighty-fascicle text and in Chengguan, Sovereign in the sixty-fascicle text and in Fazang and Zhiyan, while Fazang further transmits that her original Indian name is True and Really Abounding. The name of the dharma gate is the liberation gate of the inexhaustible treasury of merit in the eighty-fascicle text, and the dharma gate of the adornment of the inexhaustible treasury of merit and virtue in the sixty-fascicle text. The name of the position is the practice of non-opposition in the line of the eighty-fascicle text, and the practice of freedom from anger and hatred in the line of the sixty-fascicle text. The name of the next friend is the householder Bright Knowledge in the eighty-fascicle text and the elder Sweet Dew Crest in the sixty-fascicle text. As for the gloss of the name of the city, Chengguan takes the two senses of abiding near the ocean and of abiding in forbearance, Fazang takes the two senses of abiding near the southern sea and of a giving that cannot be exhausted, and Li Tongxuan takes the one sense of being able to contain the many virtues as the ocean does. As for the sentences on practicing together, the eighty-fascicle text has thirty-one, the sixty-fascicle text twenty-eight, and Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, brings out that number and divides them into three clusters, while the forty-fascicle text has thirty-seven. The forty-fascicle text stands as a line of its own: this friend is named Discerning and Fully Endowed there, the dharma gate is the liberation gate of the inexhaustible treasury of the adornment of merit, and the next friend is the elder Knowledge Fully Endowed in the city of Great Abundance; the city is named Ocean Apart in the sentence by which the previous friend points the way, while the sentence of arrival still reads Ocean Abiding, the two names standing apart within one stretch, left uneven as that text has them. In the passage of giving food the forty-fascicle text also brings out two further sayings: of the benefit obtained it says “their hunger and thirst are taken away, body and mind are at ease, and their wisdom grows,” so that the benefit of the food is spoken of right up to wisdom; and of the making of no distinction in her giving it says “to whoever comes she gives with an all-embracing mind, choosing neither between foe and kin, nor between noble and mean, nor between rich and poor,” whoever comes being given to with an all-embracing mind and not picked over. Neither of these two sayings stands in this passage of the eighty-fascicle text; they are brought out by the line of the forty-fascicle text alone. As for the similes of humbling herself and deferring to the superior, the eighty-fascicle text has eight, the sixty-fascicle text seven (the one simile of empty space, together with the six below it—the wish-granting jewel, the city of merit and virtue, the Sumeru of merit and virtue, the treasury of merit and virtue, the lamp-light of merit and virtue, and the canopy of merit and virtue), and the forty-fascicle text ten. The glosses of the three houses of the ancient worthies are none of them set up upon the forty-fascicle text. All these differing forms and differing glosses are the settled sayings of the ancient worthies, and are recorded.

The second is the line of sense, and the thick of it lies wholly upon the one graph ‘vessel.’ Chengguan, from one small vessel, sets up the judgment ‘fused into sameness with the Dharma realm, the arising by conditions being inexhaustible,’ and ties the smallness of the vessel to the self-abasement of forbearance and the emptiness of the vessel to the capacity of forbearance to contain; the Yanyi chao carries this on and borrows the words of an outside book about kneading clay into a vessel, setting out that only when the empty and the provisional are not two is it named the vessel of the Middle Way. Fazang, upon the sixty-fascicle text, first records the ancient gloss taking the food of one vessel as the one savor of suchness, and then brings out a gloss of his own upon the fusion into sameness with the Dharma realm, running on the same track as Chengguan. Li Tongxuan, for his part, also has his gloss upon the vessel, though the sense he sets up runs on another track than Chengguan's. Of the food given he says “with food no larger than a single dust mote, which is itself the measure of the Dharma realm, since no bound of inner or outer, of middle or edge, can hinder it”—the vessel can be inexhaustible because the least morsel of food is itself the measure of the Dharma realm. He then divides two gates, saying “upon the gate of knowledge, the ten practices and the five positions are cultivated throughout; upon the gate of position, forbearance is taken for the substance,” and closes with “forbearance is taken for the small vessel, since there is no practice with which it is not fully endowed, and by humbling there is nothing that does not profit”—upon the gate of knowledge the practice is not shut up within one practice, and upon the gate of position this position takes forbearance for its substance, the lowliness of forbearance being that small vessel. He also matches the marks of this laywoman's whole body to the ten perfections, the four means of gathering, and the four measureless states, saying at the end “because she is fully endowed with the ten perfections, the four means of gathering, and the four measureless states in this way, she is therefore named Fully Endowed.” The gloss upon the vessel and the gloss upon her body run side by side, which is a reading of another track.

The third is the line of cross-reading. Chengguan himself sets up the reading of this section together with the rice of the Buddha Fragrance Accumulated in the Vimalakīrti Sūtra; the Yanyi chao records in full for this the texts of the two passages of that sūtra, the taking of the rice and the digesting of the rice, and records the differing accounts of three houses, Sheng, Yuan, and Kai, glossing how the fragrant rice is able to cut off delusion: Sheng, upon the rice perfumed by compassion, makes plain that eating is a matter of principle, and Yuan refers it to the inconceivable power of the fragrant rice of great compassion—these two accounts stand side by side in the Yanyi chao, and are recorded without judgment. What follows does not stand side by side: Kai judges plainly that “how should a dharma of form have a nature able to cut off delusion?”, not taking up Yuan's account, and holds instead that the fragrant rice aids and brings forth contemplative knowledge; and Chengguan, after the three houses, brings out what he himself takes, judging that the intentions of those houses are “none of them quite apt,” making the fragrant rice signify the dharma gate, while what this section is assigned to, forbearance, is what marks it off. The judgments of Kai and of Chengguan are judgments the original texts themselves set down, each tied to the one who made it.

One house written first as abundant to ten koṭis of seats, and then written in a single sentence as having not one single thing; one vessel, so small that it can be set down before her seat, and the beings of the ten directions cannot eat what it gives to an end. The eye of this visit lies wholly in this: that ‘emptiness’ and ‘inexhaustibility’ are of themselves one single thing.

What He Was Carrying When He Left the Last One

This unit does not open with walking; it opens with thinking. From the previous good friend Sudhana had already “obtained the light of the liberation of the treasury of merit of inexhaustible adornment,” and then come twelve clauses in the same form: “he contemplated that great ocean of merit, observed that space of merit,” on down to “cultivated that seed of merit.” Ocean, space, accumulation, mountain, treasury, deep water, pool, wheel, store, gate, road, seed — twelve images, all fastened to the one word “merit.”

Why use twelve images for a single thing? Because in ordinary speech the word “merit” has all but been worn out — it sounds like a quantity one can pile up. But the sūtra first writes it as an ocean (unfathomably deep), as space (holding everything without exception), as a mountain (that can be climbed), as a road (that can be walked), as a seed (that can grow), and only at the end does it come down on the word “cultivate.” A thing that is both an ocean and a seed is not a quantity.

Clearing away a misreading: that since the previous unit had him already ‘obtain’ the gate, this passage is only a courteous look back. The verbs the sūtra uses are contemplating, observing, going toward, climbing, gathering in, entering, roaming, cleansing, seeing, entering, walking, cultivating — all twelve are things being done right now, not things being recalled.

Bringing it to the ground: what one has ‘obtained’ from a teacher is measured by whether one is still doing it along the road after leaving. What is obtained and not carried on being done was only heard.

The Nine Clauses of Thirsting for the Good Friend: An Anatomy of the Seeking Mind

As he comes to the city of Great Flourishing and searches there, the sūtra writes Sudhana’s mind in nine clauses, and in those nine clauses the words “good friend” appear nine times. The first five write the character of that mind: “toward the good friend he gave rise to thirst and longing in his mind” (thirst and longing are a man out of water wanting water, not admiration); “with the teaching of the good friend he perfumed his own mind” (perfuming is being slowly dyed, not filled at one pouring); “toward the good friend his resolve and desire were firm”; “by every kind of means he sought to see the good friends, and his mind did not turn back, he was willing to serve the good friends, and in his mind there was no sloth or weariness.”

Why divide the business of ‘seeking a teacher’ this finely? Because these five clauses are in fact five different barriers: whether one wants to (thirst and longing), whether it lasts (perfuming), whether it is firm (resolve and desire), whether one turns back (not turning back), whether one tires (no sloth or weariness). Most people stop at the first barrier — there is thirst and longing but no perfuming, and so the thirst fades in a few days.

Clearing away a misreading: that “thirst and longing” names a heat of feeling. The sūtra places it first and immediately follows it with “perfuming” — if the heat is not turned into a daily dyeing, this clause has no sequel.

Bringing it to the ground: to examine one’s relation to a good friend, one can put these five clauses to oneself one barrier at a time; wherever one is stuck, one knows what to supply next.

The Four Clauses of ‘He Knew That Because One Relies upon the Good Friend’: What It Is That He Knows

The latter four of those nine clauses each open with “he knew that because one relies upon the good friend.” What he knows is four things: “one can bring every kind of goodness to fullness,” “one can give birth to every kind of merit,” “one can make every kind of practice grow,” and the last clause, “he knew that because one relies upon the good friend one need not wait for another to teach one, but can oneself serve all good friends.”

Why lead these four clauses with the word “knew,” rather than saying outright that ‘relying upon the good friend brings every kind of goodness to fullness’? Because the former says that Sudhana understands this in his own mind, while the latter is only a proposition. What the sūtra is writing is the inward state of one who seeks the Dharma, not an article of doctrine.

These four clauses also have an order. Bringing goodness to fullness is said of goodness already there (making it complete); giving birth to merit is said of what is not yet there (making it come forth); making practice grow is said of what is under way (making it increase) — the three together take in the past, the future, and the present of goodness. And the fourth clause turns a corner: the final result of relying upon a good friend turns out to be “one need not wait for another to teach one” — no longer needing anyone to teach, one is able oneself to serve all good friends.

Clearing away a misreading: that the aim of relying upon a good friend is to have someone to rely on forever. The sūtra says the opposite — one relies all the way through in order to grow the strength to serve all good friends oneself. This is not a breaking away; it is what the thing looks like when it has ripened.

Bringing it to the ground: whether a good friend teaches well is seen in whether the student has become better at drawing near to other good friends.

The Ten Things Increased at the Very Time of Contemplating

The nine clauses done, the sūtra adds a passage of fruit: “when he contemplated in this way, he made his own roots of goodness grow, purified his own deep mind, advanced his own faculties, increased his own store of virtue,” and then “enlarged his own great vow, opened wide his own great compassion, drew near to omniscience, became fully endowed with the path of Samantabhadra, illuminated the true Dharma of all the buddhas, and made the light of the Tathāgata’s ten powers grow” — ten things in all.

The question to ask is: when do these ten things happen? The sūtra writes it with perfect clarity — “when he contemplated in this way,” at the very moment of the contemplating, not after he has seen the good friend. Which is to say: the stretch of road on which one seeks a good friend is itself already practice, not the preparation before practice.

The order of the ten can also be read: roots of goodness, deep mind, faculties, and store of virtue are inward; great vow and great compassion are the mind that is raised; omniscience and the path of Samantabhadra are the fruit toward which one goes; the true Dharma and the light of the ten powers are the field that is illuminated. From within outward, from cause to fruit.

Clearing away a misreading: that merit only begins once one has met the teacher and heard the Dharma. The sūtra fastens all ten things beneath the three words “when he contemplated.”

Bringing it to the ground: a stretch of Dharma-seeking road that has not yet borne fruit is not therefore a blank stretch.

Why This Good Friend Sits at the Market Crossroads

When Sudhana sees him, the sūtra writes his position very particularly: “inside the city, at the market crossroads where four roads meet and run out in every direction, upon a terrace of the seven jewels” — not in the mountains, not in a quiet room, but at the crossroads of the city market where four roads meet.

Chengguan glosses this line: “what he first sees is the market crossroads, which shows that he dwells amid clamor and is not disturbed, and that there is nowhere it does not reach” — first, that he dwells in the middle of the din and is not shaken by it; second, that a road running out four ways reaches everywhere. Li Tongxuan takes the sense somewhat differently, saying “as for the market crossroads, it makes clear that the benefit is broad and abundant, that the benefiting is without limit,” weighing on the breadth of its reach. The one gloss speaks with respect to his own use of it, the other with respect to the benefiting of others.

Clearing away a misreading: that sitting in the market is a convenience for handing out goods, a matter of efficiency. If that were so, the sūtra would have had no need to write “four roads” on purpose. A crossroads where four roads run out is the loudest place in the whole city and the one where one has least choice about who comes — Chengguan assigns this good friend to the indomitable practice, and the place where one is not disturbed is precisely the place where one is most easily disturbed.

Bringing it to the ground: where a person’s steadiness gets tested — this one line has already said it.

The Seat and the Attendants: What Is Laid Out Is Not His Body

The passage on seeing and paying respects contains a long spread of description, and what it describes is not the householder’s appearance but his seat and his people. The body of the seat is “pure maṇi jewels formed its body,” its feet are adamantine sapphire, jeweled cords laced across one another, five hundred exquisite jewels for ornament, and above it heavenly garments, banners and pennants, a jeweled net, a jeweled canopy, a golden parasol, a beryl shaft, a fan of goose-king plumage, and with these perfuming incense, raining flowers, five hundred kinds of music. As for the people: “ten thousand attendants surrounded him before and behind,” and the sūtra notes especially of these ten thousand that they “had already brought to accomplishment the resolve and desire of a bodhisattva, and had planted roots of goodness together with this householder in the past, and stood at his side, gazing up and looking toward him, receiving his instructions.”

Why write it this way? Because the virtue of this unit’s good friend lies in giving, and the virtue of giving does not appear in the marks of a body; it appears in the place where he sits and in the people around him. That the seat is adorned to the utmost is the mark of goods for giving that are not exhausted; that the attendants have all planted roots of goodness together with him is the mark of Dharma given to effect. Put the two together and they announce beforehand the name of the gate that comes later.

Clearing away a misreading: that this passage is ornamental padding that may be skipped. The whole unit runs to something over eighteen hundred graphs counting punctuation, and this passage takes up nearly an eighth of them, while Chengguan takes from it only the three Chinese characters of “the market crossroads” for his gloss and lets the rest speak for itself — precisely because it has already said all it has to say.

Bringing it to the ground: to see how well a person gives, one need not listen to what he says; look at what the people around him have become.

Sudhana’s Twelve Clauses of ‘So That All Beings May’

Before Sudhana asks his question he first states the reason he raised the mind. The opening clause is “for the sake of benefiting all beings,” and beneath it come twelve clauses in the same form: coming out of every kind of suffering and hardship, being ultimately at peace and at ease, coming out of the ocean of birth and death, dwelling on the island of the jewel of Dharma, drying up the river of craving, giving rise to great kindness and compassion, casting off desire and craving, thirsting for the knowledge of a buddha, coming out of the wilderness of birth and death, loving and delighting in the merits of the buddhas, and the last two, “so that all beings may come out of this city of the three realms,” “so that all beings may enter this city of omniscience.”

Why set out so long a list? Because these twelve clauses are not rhetoric; they are the contents of the mind he has raised. And their order has a frame: the first four are said with respect to suffering (hardship, ease, the ocean of birth and death, the island of Dharma), the middle four with respect to affliction (the river of craving, kindness and compassion, desire and craving, the knowledge of a buddha), the last four with respect to position (the wilderness, the merits of the buddhas, the city of the three realms, the city of omniscience). The last two are set against each other as “coming out” and “entering,” and between that one going out and one going in, the business of raising the mind is complete.

Clearing away a misreading: that this is Sudhana introducing himself or stating his qualifications. Of the twelve things he lists, not one concerns himself — a raising of the mind whose contents are entirely one’s own gains is not the raising of the mind spoken of here.

Bringing it to the ground: write out in twelve clauses why you yourself want to study; if all twelve are about you, write them again.

What He Actually Asks Is a Single Question

After the twelve clauses, Sudhana’s question is only a clause and a half: “but I do not yet know how a bodhisattva is to study the bodhisattva practice, how he is to cultivate the bodhisattva path, so as to be able to act as a place of reliance for all beings.”

Why pay attention to that last clause, “so as to be able to act as a place of reliance for all beings”? Because among the fifty and more friends of this assembly, Sudhana’s question is generally the two clauses “how is one to study the bodhisattva practice, how is one to cultivate the bodhisattva path”; in this unit a further clause is added after the two. And that added clause answers exactly to the virtue of this unit’s good friend — one who fulfills the wish of whoever has need of anything is a place of reliance for beings.

Clearing away a misreading: that the question is the same at every station and may be passed over. Where the sūtra adds a clause, it is pointing at what that station has to say.

Bringing it to the ground: in reading Sudhana’s question, notice what he has asked over and above; the half clause that has been added is usually the subject of that station.

The Householder’s First Words Are Not About the Gate but About Raising the Mind

The householder’s answer opens with “it is good, it is good! Son of good family! That you are able to raise the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi!” and continues, “son of good family! To raise the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi — such a person is hard to find.”

Why praise the raising of the mind first? Because what Sudhana asked was “how is one to study,” and what the householder answers is ‘you have already raised it.’ This is not answering beside the question — if the “how is one to study” has no raised mind beneath it, what is studied is only technique. And so the sūtra adds the clause “if one is able to raise this mind, then that person is able to seek the practice of a bodhisattva”: only one who can raise the mind can be spoken of as able to seek.

The four Chinese characters rendered “such a person is hard to find” also want looking at closely. What is hard to find is not the mind but the person who raises it. Anyone at all can raise the mind; few raise it and keep it in force.

Clearing away a misreading: that the praise is a courteous opening. Here it is a conditional clause — first the foundation is confirmed, then one builds upward.

Bringing it to the ground: when study will not go in, what wants examining again is not the method but whether that mind is still there.

The Ten Clauses on Serving the Good Friend: One Clause, One Kind of Tiring

After the raising of the mind, the householder at once sets out ten clauses, each centered on the good friend: meeting, drawing near, making offerings, waiting upon, searching for, cherishing, serving, gazing up at, practicing his teaching, receiving his intent. And the lower half of every clause says the same thing in ten shapes — never feeling he has had enough, never feeling it toilsome, never growing weary or slack, giving rise to no sorrow or displeasure, never turning back, never letting go, taking not a moment’s rest, never once pausing, “practicing the good friend’s teaching, he has never been slothful,” “receiving the good friend’s intent, he makes no mistake.”

Why ten kinds of ‘not’? Because the difficulty of serving a good friend does not lie in beginning but in keeping on. Having had enough, feeling it toilsome, growing weary and slack, sorrow and displeasure, turning back, letting go, resting, pausing, sloth, mistake — these ten words are ten kinds of tiring, and they come one at a time, not all at once.

These ten clauses pair exactly with the nine clauses of going in search earlier: the nine write the seeking before he has met him, the ten write the serving after he has met him. The difficulty of seeking is that the heat is not enough; the difficulty of serving is that the heat goes out. Taking the two groups together, “good friend” has by now appeared nineteen times in this unit.

Clearing away a misreading: that these ten clauses are words of encouragement. They are a checklist — ten places one can examine oneself against, one by one.

Bringing it to the ground: what has arisen in you this week toward some good friend is one of these ten words.

‘Do You See These People of My Assembly?’: He Has Sudhana Look at People First

The householder does not speak of his gate directly; he first asks a question: “son of good family! Do you see these people of my assembly?” Sudhana answers: “yes! I have seen them.”

Why ask this first? Because what is to be spoken of next is a gate of giving goods and giving Dharma, and the effect of giving is proved not on things but on people. So the seeker of the Dharma must first have his eyes put on people, and only then is the name of the gate spoken.

The brevity of the exchange is also worth noticing — question and answer together run to a dozen graphs or so, the shortest passage in the whole unit. The sūtra uses it as a hinge: before it Sudhana was looking at the seat and at things; this one line turns his eyes from things to people.

Clearing away a misreading: that this is a line of transition. Without it, the ‘I have caused them to raise the mind’ that follows would have nothing to point at.

Bringing it to the ground: in weighing the effect of a good deed, look first at whom it changed, and only then at what it cost.

Born into the Family of the Tathāgata: What These Ten Thousand People Have Become

The householder goes on to tell where these people came from: “I have caused them to raise the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi, to be born into the family of the Tathāgata,” and then “to make the white dharmas grow, to abide in measureless perfections, to study the ten powers of a buddha,” and again “to leave the lineage of the world, to abide in the lineage of the Tathāgata, to cast off the wheel of birth and death, to turn the wheel of the true Dharma, to put an end to the three evil destinies, and to abide in the destiny of the true Dharma,” closing with “like all the bodhisattvas, they are able to rescue and protect all beings.”

Of these, on the four Chinese characters rendered “born into the family of the Tathāgata” Chengguan glosses: “as for being born into the family of the Tathāgata, it is the same as the birth spoken of in the fourth abode” — the same as the birth spoken of in the Abode of Noble Birth, the fourth of the ten abodes. The Yanyi chao further glosses the reason for that word “same,” saying “the fourth abode is birth into the family of the sagely teaching; since the three worthy stages and the ten sagely stages are broadly alike in kind, the earlier is matched with the fourth abode and the later with the fourth ground.” Li Tongxuan likewise matches this line to a position, saying “when the householder says that they are born into the family of the Tathāgata and make the white dharmas grow, it makes clear that this position is the practice of the fourth abode, that of Noble Birth.” This is the ancient worthies matching text to positions; it is not something the sūtra marks for itself.

The question to ask is: what is the order of this passage? Raising the mind is the place of entry; birth into the family of the Tathāgata is the status; the white dharmas, the perfections, and the ten powers are what is studied; leaving the lineage of the world and abiding in the lineage of the Tathāgata is the lineage that is turned about; casting off one wheel and turning another, ending one destiny and abiding in another, is the field of action that is turned about; and the closing clause, rescuing and protecting beings, is the function that is accomplished. From a single thought of mind to being able to rescue people, one passage walks the whole distance.

Clearing away a misreading: that these people are merely beggars who received goods. Of the eleven things the sūtra lists, not one is a thing.

Bringing it to the ground: if the giving of goods cannot turn a person from a receiver into one who gives, the line has broken off halfway.

The Treasury of Merit Brought Forth at Will: Why This Name Is Fastened to Space

The name of the gate appears here: “son of good family! I have obtained a liberation gate named the treasury of merit brought forth at will; whatever anyone has need of, it can fulfill his wish.”

Chengguan glosses this name: “goods and Dharma are inexhaustible, being stored up in space, and are given at will — hence the name, the treasury of merit brought forth at will,” and adds a further turn, “it also signifies the seeing of emptiness, since there is nothing it is not furnished with.” These two clauses want taking apart. The first glosses with respect to the event — neither the goods nor the Dharma given were stockpiled in a storehouse beforehand; they are “stored up in space,” coming forth at will, and so they are inexhaustible. The second turns to the seeing — the space he looks up into signifies at the same time the emptiness that he sees; precisely because he has seen emptiness, nothing is lacking.

The question to ask is: why is “inexhaustible” fastened to “emptiness” rather than to “much”? Because much is finite, and however much there is it will be used up; only what does not come out of “existence” will not be used up. This is the decisive step by which this unit turns the business of giving into a gate of liberation.

Clearing away a misreading: that this is a display of spiritual power with nothing to do with insight. If it were only a display, Chengguan would have had no need to add the clause “it also signifies the seeing of emptiness.”

Bringing it to the ground: how much a person can afford to give does not depend on how much he has, but on whether he has made “having” the ground he stands on.

The Fourteen Goods That Support Life: Why the Sūtra Names Them One by One

After the name of the gate, the sūtra lists what is given under the word “that is to say”: clothing, necklaces, elephants and horses, carriages, flowers and incense, banners and canopies, food and drink, medicines, houses, dwellings, beds and seats, lamps and torches, servants and maids, oxen and sheep — fourteen names in all, closed with the phrase “together with every kind of attendant and servitor,” and then gathered up in “all such goods as support life, whatever anyone has need of, I cause him to have in full,” with the last clause, “and even beyond this, I expound for him the true and exquisite Dharma.”

Why not write a single clause, ‘everything anyone needs,’ and be done? Because “everything” is an abstraction, and a reader’s mind does not move as he passes over it; whereas clothing, medicine, a bed, a lamp are concrete things, and the reader will think of the one he himself has gone without. The sūtra names them in order to have the thing read as real.

The order of the fourteen names can also be read: from the clothing and necklaces on one’s body down to carriages, incense and canopies, food and medicine, houses and dwellings and beds and lamps, and at the end servants, oxen and sheep, and attendants — from what is nearest the body outward to the dwelling, from goods outward to people and animals. And the closing clause, “and even beyond this, I expound for him the true and exquisite Dharma,” joins the giving of goods to the giving of Dharma; this is the opening for the next passage.

Clearing away a misreading: that the names are listed to show abundance. If abundance were the point, the clause “whatever anyone has need of, I cause him to have in full” would have been enough by itself.

Bringing it to the ground: a promise should be concrete, concrete enough for the other person to picture; only then will the promise be believed.

Beings Come from Every Kind of Quarter: Why It Is Written That They Are All Different

When the householder has said “wait a little while, and you will see it for yourself,” the sūtra at once writes the gathering: “measureless beings came from every kind of quarter, every kind of world, every kind of land, and every kind of city and town, differing in form and kind, differing too in what they loved and desired,” and the reason they were able to come is that “all of them came by the power of the bodhisattva’s vow of old, boundless in number, gathering together in this one place, and each of them made his request according to what he himself wanted.”

The question to ask is: why write “differing in form and kind, differing too in what they loved and desired” on purpose? Because what is about to be performed is the two words “at will.” If those who came were of one form and kind and wanted one thing, it would not be called ‘at will’; it would be called a distribution. Precisely because what each wanted was different, “fulfilling the wish of every one” has its difficulty, and only so does it become a gate.

And the clause “all of them came by the power of the bodhisattva’s vow of old” wants noticing still more — these people did not come because they heard of him; they were drawn by the power of a vow. Which is to say: this scene is not something that happened on the spur of the moment; it is a vow of long ago coming due.

Clearing away a misreading: that spiritual power summoned the people. What the sūtra writes is the power of a vow, not spiritual power.

Bringing it to the ground: how many people a thing can gather today is measured by what vow was made before, not by how loudly one calls today.

Looking Up into Space: The One Line of the Whole Unit

The assembly having gathered, the sūtra writes the householder’s action in eight graphs only: “for a moment he gathered his mindfulness and looked up into space.” And then, “in accordance with what they needed, all of it came down out of the sky, and everyone in the assembly was universally satisfied. Then he further expounded for them every kind of Dharma.”

Why “looked up into space,” and not opening a storehouse, not working a transformation? Chengguan’s gloss has been seen above — goods and Dharma are stored up in space, and so they come forth at will, and this emptiness also signifies the emptiness that is seen. Li Tongxuan takes the same line and speaks still more directly, saying “as for looking up into space, so that whatever things are needed for the benefit of beings all come down out of the sky, it makes clear that bright wisdom is like space,” and again, “looking up into space is the giving of goods and Dharma together, and hence the name Bright Wisdom” — fastening the friend’s name, Bright Wisdom, directly onto this one action.

There is one more word to look at: the “gathered his mindfulness” in “for a moment he gathered his mindfulness.” What he looks up into is empty space, but what he does is gather his mindfulness — not emptying the mind out, but drawing it in to one place. Emptiness and gathered mindfulness stand in the same clause; this is where the unit speaks of concentration.

Clearing away a misreading: that “looked up into space” is a posture of supplication. If it were supplication, the goods would not be coming from him, and the gate would not be named “brought forth at will.”

Bringing it to the ground: the one who can give things away is not the one whose hands are full but the one who does not, in his mind, count the things as his own.

Giving One Meal Brings Eight Practices to Completion: Why Only This One Kind Is Opened Out So Finely

After the giving of goods comes the giving of Dharma, and the sūtra divides those who ask into five kinds. For the first kind, “those who were satisfied by obtaining fine food,” eight practices are opened out: “he expounded every kind of practice: the practice of amassing merit, the practice of leaving poverty behind, the practice of knowing all things,” then “the practice of accomplishing the food of the joy of Dharma and the bliss of meditation,” the practice of cultivating the full endowment of every mark and sign, the practice of increasing and accomplishing what is hard to subdue, “the practice of penetrating well the unsurpassed food,” and “the practice of accomplishing the inexhaustible power of great majestic virtue that subdues Māra the foe.”

On this Chengguan judges: “in the giving of a single meal, eight practices are brought to completion: the first two with respect to giving, the remaining six with respect to food” — the first two practices (amassing merit, leaving poverty behind) are said with respect to the act of giving, and the latter six with respect to food. He further lists “the five fruits of food”: “first, obtaining what accords with all things, which is the life of wisdom; second, obtaining gladness, which is constant ease; third, becoming endowed with the marks and signs, which is constant form; fourth and sixth, constant strength; fifth, constant eloquence.” The Yanyi chao points out where these five fruits come from: they are the words the Tathāgata spoke to Cunda in the second fascicle of the Nirvāṇa Sūtra — “I now give you the constant life, form, strength, ease, and unobstructed eloquence” — and glosses the reason, “because by giving food one benefits life and benefits form, benefits strength and benefits ease, and benefits eloquence, one obtains these five proximately; and since these are impermanent, one obtains in the end the five that are constant.” This account of the five fruits is fastened to a scripture cited by the ancient worthies; it does not come out of this passage of the present sūtra itself.

Chengguan’s judgment can be matched item by item. He says “the first two with respect to giving, the remaining six with respect to food” — the first two practices (amassing merit, leaving poverty behind) are said with respect to the act of giving, and the remaining six with respect to food; and it is precisely these latter six that the five fruits are matched to. “First, obtaining what accords with all things, which is the life of wisdom” answers to “the practice of knowing all things”: one eats a meal and what is spoken of is accord with all things, so that what is nourished is no longer the body but the life of wisdom. “Second, obtaining gladness, which is constant ease” answers to “the practice of accomplishing the food of the joy of Dharma and the bliss of meditation”: gladness as a fruit does not lie in one meal’s fullness but in the joy of Dharma and the bliss of meditation being able to last. “Third, becoming endowed with the marks and signs, which is constant form” answers to “the practice of cultivating the full endowment of every mark and sign”: the goodness of the bodily form is nourished by food, and at its furthest it is the constancy of the marks and signs. “Fourth and sixth, constant strength” is said with respect to the fourth and the sixth of these six practices — the practice of increasing and accomplishing what is hard to subdue and the practice of accomplishing the inexhaustible power of great majestic virtue that subdues Māra the foe both take in the one fruit of strength: being hard to subdue is that another cannot disturb me, subduing Māra the foe is that I can prevail over another; one inward and one outward, and what is accomplished is the single strength. “Fifth, constant eloquence” answers to “the practice of penetrating well the unsurpassed food”: to penetrate the unsurpassed food issues in eloquence — only one who knows why a thing is so can say it.

The question to ask is: of the five kinds, why is food alone opened out into eight practices? Because food is, of all the goods that support life, the most daily, the least regarded, and the most easily taken for a purely worldly matter. That the sūtra opens it out most finely precisely here is meant to say: where things look least like the Dharma, the Dharma is most abundant.

Clearing away a misreading: that filling people’s stomachs is a preliminary to the giving of Dharma. Among these eight practices are “the practice of knowing all things” and “the practice of penetrating well the unsurpassed food” — being fed is itself spoken of as a practice.

Bringing it to the ground: if a meal is only a meal, that is because the one who gave it did not take it for one of eight things.

Fine Drink, Choice Flavors, Carriages, Clothing: To Each of the Four Kinds, One Dharma

The remaining four kinds are each closed in a clause or two, and the Dharma spoken to each kind has the same shape as the thing asked for. To those who ask for fine drink: “he expounded the Dharma for them, causing them, in the midst of birth and death, to cast off craving and attachment and to enter into the flavor of the Buddha’s Dharma” — drink answering to flavor. To those who ask for every kind of choice flavor, he expounds the Dharma so as to cause them all “to obtain the mark of the choicest flavor that belongs to the buddhas, the tathāgatas” — the choicest flavor of the world opening onto the mark of the Tathāgata’s choicest flavor; and on this mark Chengguan glosses, “as for the mark of the choicest flavor, it is because there is a spring of nectar at the teeth.” To those who ask for carriages: “he expounded every kind of Dharma gate for them, causing all of them to be carried in the vehicle of the Great Vehicle” — carriage answering to vehicle. To those who ask for clothing, the Dharma he expounds “causes them to obtain the pure garment of shame and conscience, and even beyond this the pure and exquisite color of a tathāgata” — clothing answering to shame and conscience, and at the end opening onto the exquisite color of a tathāgata.

The question to ask is: why not speak to each of them some surpassing Dharma, instead of speaking along the line of the thing they wanted? Because what a person asks for is where his mind is at that moment. Beginning from the very thing he wants is what lets him take it in; and inside every worldly thing there is already a road running through to the Dharma — drink has flavor, a carriage carries, clothing covers.

Clearing away a misreading: that this is a technique of adapting on the spot. Four kinds and four dharmas answering one to one is not quickness of wit in the moment; it is seeing the line that was always there between a thing and the Dharma.

Bringing it to the ground: in speaking the Dharma to someone, first see what he is holding in his hands, and begin from that.

There Was Not One He Did Not Relieve, and Then They Returned to Where They Came From

The passage on the giving of Dharma closes in four clauses: “in this way there was not one of them whom he did not universally relieve; and after that he expounded the Dharma for all of them, each according to what suited him. And when they had finished hearing the Dharma, each of them returned to the place from which he had come.”

The question to ask is: why write “returned to the place from which he had come”? Would it not show his merit better to write that they stayed and became his following? The sūtra will not have it. Those who came, came each according to what he wanted; and what they got being enough and what they heard being finished, each goes back to his own place. This one clause fixes the character of the whole scene — this is not a gathering of a crowd; it is giving, and then dispersal.

The four Chinese characters rendered “each according to what suited him” also want looking at. What is spoken accords with what suits each; it is not one set of words delivered to everybody. And so, the thing being finished, they disperse, and each carries away his own portion.

Clearing away a misreading: that giving has the gathering-in of people for its aim. Here the giving is finished and they disperse, whereas the ten thousand attendants earlier had planted roots of goodness together with him of old and had long since been brought to accomplishment — the two are not the same thing, and the sūtra distinguishes them very clearly.

Bringing it to the ground: after helping someone, letting him go back into his own life is what completes the thing.

I Know This Only: Humbling Himself and the Superior He Points To

The scene over, the householder’s words come back to himself: “son of good family! I know only this liberation gate of the treasury of merit brought forth at will,” and then he points to the superior — “as for the bodhisattva-mahāsattvas, they have accomplished the jeweled hand that covers over all the lands of the ten directions,” “and with sovereign power they universally rain down all the goods that support life,” what they rain down running down in eleven repetitions of “of every color”: jewels, necklaces, jeweled crowns, clothing, music, flowers, incense, powdered incense, incense for burning, jeweled parasols, banners and pennants, “filling every place where beings dwell and every site of awakening where the tathāgatas and their assemblies gather,” “whether to ripen all beings or to make offerings to all the buddhas,” closing with a question: “how then could I know or expound their merits and their sovereign and spiritual power?”

The question to ask is: what has the superior he points to that his own practice has not? Three things. First, the reach — his own is one city and one market, while the bodhisattvas cover the lands of the ten directions. Second, the object — what he gives is given to beings, while the bodhisattvas also “make offerings to all the buddhas.” Third, the power employed — he must “gather his mindfulness and look up,” while the bodhisattvas act “with sovereign power.”

And the eleven colors rained down can be set beside the fourteen names given earlier: the latter are real goods presently given before one’s eyes, the former a surpassing field spread through the whole Dharma realm; the one real, the other surpassing, and it is exactly in this contrast that the humbling of oneself and the pointing to the superior can stand.

Clearing away a misreading: that humbling oneself is a courtesy. What is pointed to here is concrete clause by clause, and can be set against one’s own practice item by item — this is a humility that has been measured out, not one that has been spoken.

Bringing it to the ground: knowing where the boundary of one’s own practice lies requires first being able to see a measure larger than oneself.

Pointing to the Next Friend: South, the Lion’s Palace, Dharma-Jewel Topknot

After pointing to the superior he points out the road: “son of good family! South of here there is a great city named the Lion’s Palace; there is an elder there named Dharma-Jewel Topknot. You may go and ask him: how is a bodhisattva to study the bodhisattva practice and cultivate the bodhisattva path?”

At the end of this section Chengguan has already glossed the names of that city and that friend beforehand — “as for the city named the Lion’s Palace, it is concentration without disturbance,” and “as for the friend named Dharma-Jewel Topknot, he binds up all disturbances, and it resides at the crown of the mind.” The detail of these two glosses belongs to the next unit; here only their attribution is recorded: the city is named from concentration, the friend from the jewel within concentration. And as for this unit’s city, Great Flourishing, and this unit’s friend, Bright Wisdom, Chengguan glosses them as “the city is named Great Flourishing because it is the arousing of great vigor” and “the friend is named Bright Wisdom because an advancing foot must be led by the eye of wisdom.” Taking the sequence together, it is from vigor that one enters concentration — this is the ancient worthies matching names to positions; it is not something the sūtra marks for itself.

The question to ask is: why does this unit’s good friend, having finished expounding his own gate, close by telling Sudhana to walk on? Because what he has acknowledged of himself is “I know this only.” Knowing this one gate only, he cannot keep anyone. The teacher who keeps people has taken what he himself knows for the whole of it.

Clearing away a misreading: that pointing to the next friend is a courteous deference. It is the necessary consequence of the preceding clause, “I know this only” — one points out the road only after admitting a limit.

Bringing it to the ground: that a person is willing to introduce you to someone who understands more than he does is itself a lesson in what he teaches.

The Five Clauses at the Parting: What He Carries Away

The closing passage writes of Sudhana: “at that time Sudhana the youth, joyful and exultant, reverent and honoring him, behaving as a disciple should behave,” and what he holds in mind is five clauses: “because this householder has been mindful of me and protected me, I have been able to see the path of omniscience,” “I do not break off the seeing that cherishes the good friend, never spoil the mind that honors the good friend,” “always be able to accord with the good friend’s teaching, decisively and deeply believe the good friend’s words,” and the last clause, “constantly give rise to a deep mind that serves the good friend.” Then, “he bowed to his feet, circumambulated him measureless times, gazed up at him earnestly, took his leave, and departed.”

In these five clauses “good friend” appears five times. Together with the nine and the ten of the two earlier groups in this unit, the whole unit has twenty-four — nine while going in search, ten while receiving the teaching, five at the parting. And the three groups point to different things: the first is the seeking before he has met him, the second the serving the householder teaches, the third the holding he sets up as he leaves. Seeking, serving, and holding all being furnished, the karmic tie of one station is complete.

The question to ask is: what he carries away, is it the gate? Not one of the five clauses mentions “the treasury of merit brought forth at will.” What he holds in mind is entirely the four matters of the good friend — the seeing, the mind, the teaching, the words — coming home at last to “serving.” Which is to say: what he really carries away from this station is how to go on being a student.

Clearing away a misreading: that what is gained in the pilgrimage is an accumulation of one gate after another. If it were, the five clauses of the closing passage ought to have repeated the name of the gate.

Bringing it to the ground: when one leaves a teacher, if what rises in the mind is the person rather than his set of sayings, that stretch of study has not been wasted.

Lineage

Of the glosses on this unit, four houses of the ancient worthies survive, and their frames differ from one another; they are recorded side by side without adjudication. Chengguan besides has one passage of explicit judgment, which is set out separately below and does not enter this parallel recording.

Chengguan’s Huayan jing shu divides this unit into five parts (going in search according to the teaching · seeing, paying respects, and inquiring · praising and conferring the Dharma · humbling himself and pointing to the superior · pointing to the next friend), opening the one part of praising and conferring the Dharma into three, and opening the direct showing of the Dharma realm into the two layers of raising the name and revealing its working. Li Tongxuan’s Xin Huayan jing lun does not use this frame; in his section-by-section outline of the chapter on entering the Dharma realm he divides into two gates — the direct entry into the Dharma gate of the present position, opened into ten gates, and the advancing by way of pointing to virtue, opened into five (the four gates at the end of the previous friend’s passage, which point this friend out, are that friend’s closing section and not this one’s). What Fazang’s Tanxuan ji and Zhiyan’s Souxuan ji rest upon is the sixty-fascicle version, where the friend of this position is Nectar Crown. Each of the two in fact has a gloss dedicated to this unit. Fazang glosses Nectar by “among the flavors of the practice of vigor it is the choicest” and the Crown by “the virtue of the practice stands out surpassingly,” and on the passage of contemplating space and raining down goods he judges “this is the same as the samādhi of breaking the vessel of empty space, and is precisely what is obtained in the ten practices.” Zhiyan raises “the bodhisattva of the fourteenth, the inexhaustible practice: the elder of this position is named Nectar Crown, and he enters the Dharma gate of the jeweled treasury of merit at will,” and sets up his outline as the seven items of entering in accordance with the teaching, the three parts of direct entry, the four parts of his own portion, the four parts of the great working, and the three parts of looking up and pointing; within those four parts of the great working he marks, on the passage of looking up, “he reveals the vessel of empty space bringing forth the inexhaustible gathering in of goods.” Zhiyan besides, in his Huayan jing kongmu zhang, glosses the good friends of the ten practices position by position, and of this fourth good friend he says that the gloss is “with respect to the distinct teaching of the one vehicle,” that what is at work is that “vigor is preeminent,” that by this he “reveals that his surpassing hall and his following are of a rare and different kind” and “accomplishes great adornment and the sovereign practice of giving,” and that in sum it is “what is brought about by the vigor of the nature.” In this unit the householder, amid the assembly, looks up into space and rains down goods at will, giving goods and Dharma together — this is that sovereign practice of giving; and the surpassingness of his hall and the rare distinction of his following are not got from outside either, but are what the vigor of his nature brings about.

As for the assignment of position, Chengguan fastens this unit to the fourth of the ten practices, the indomitable practice, and the Yanyi chao glosses the reason as “because he is diligent and does not grow slack or turn back”; Li Tongxuan assigns it to the indomitable practice as well, saying “he presides over the indomitable practice, because by wisdom he knows the time and knows the Dharma, knows the faculties and benefits creatures, neither disturbed in his affairs nor stalled in his effect,” and beyond the indomitable practice he further matches it with the fourth of the ten abodes, Noble Birth, and with the fourth of the ten grounds, saying “this is the Abode of Noble Birth among the ten abodes.” This matching of positions issues from the ancient worthies carrying forward the outlines of earlier men; the sūtra does not mark the graded position for itself. Chengguan, for this unit, fastens it to the fourth practice, the indomitable; yet in glossing “the same as the birth in the fourth abode” his Yanyi chao says further “the earlier is matched with the fourth abode and the later with the fourth ground,” so that even for him it is not a single position only. As to matching or not matching, Chengguan himself has one passage of explicit judgment in the outline of the chapter: he first reports what two houses say — Master Yi and the Taishan lun gloss as the text runs and make no separate matching, while masters such as Guangtong all match the positions; the two having been set out, he then passes his own judgment: “both have their reason. That is, since each single position is furnished with many Dharma gates, how should an ordinary mind be barred from practicing and seeking the way of good friends? Hence there is reason in not matching them. And yet, where there are no graded positions, graded positions are not obstructed either; to show the positions is the ordinary rule, and in matching them there is likewise nothing amiss.” That sentence is Chengguan’s judgment, not the words of the two houses reported before it.

As for the gloss on the city’s name, Chengguan takes “because it is the arousing of great vigor,” Li Tongxuan takes “it is by the perfection of vigor that benefit greatly flourishes, and from this the city is named.” On the market crossroads, Chengguan takes “it shows that he dwells amid clamor and is not disturbed, and that there is nowhere it does not reach,” Li Tongxuan takes “it makes clear that the benefit is broad and abundant, that the benefiting is without limit.” On looking up into space, Chengguan takes “goods and Dharma are inexhaustible, being stored up in space,” turning it further into “it also signifies the seeing of emptiness, since there is nothing it is not furnished with,” while Li Tongxuan takes “bright wisdom is like space” and “the giving of goods and Dharma together.” On the passage about giving food, Chengguan opens the eight practices and the five fruits and fastens the source of the five fruits to the words the Tathāgata spoke to Cunda in the Nirvāṇa Sūtra; Li Tongxuan closes this passage with the single phrase about goods and Dharma given together and does not open out practices and fruits separately. Li Tongxuan further sets the previous friend beside this one, saying “the laywoman of the previous position, by reason of her small vessel, makes clear the gate of forbearance, leaving behind arrogance, sloth, and a lofty mind, giving them food and drink to their fill,” whereas this position “shows the indomitable practice of a mind of vigor, constantly practicing the contemplation of emptiness so as to remove the afflictions, and obtaining the mind of unsurpassed wisdom.” Four further sentences of Li Tongxuan on this position can be carried on here. The first, on why the householder looks up into space: “emptiness is the root of knowledge, since knowledge is not other than emptiness,” and therefore “it makes clear that all merits come to be altogether from the knowledge of emptiness” — that what he gives is not used up has its root in a knowledge that does not part from emptiness, which joins directly to Chengguan’s further turn, “it also signifies the seeing of emptiness.” The second, on how this position stands to the rest: “in the fourth, the indomitable practice, vigor is the principal and the remaining nine are its companions” — the ten practices are not each on their own; one is principal and the nine follow it, so that the single gate of vigor already contains the other nine. The third divides the observing of this position into two levels: “With respect to the gate of knowledge, the five positions and the ten practices are practiced together; with respect to the gate of position, contemplating the gate of the emptiness of dharmas and understanding the liberation of dependent arising is what is surpassing” — with respect to the gate of knowledge, the five positions and the ten practices are one and the same practice, with no before and after; with respect to the gate of position, what makes this fourth practice surpassing is the one gate of contemplating the emptiness of dharmas, and the understanding of dependent arising that issues in liberation. Crosswise, the positions interpenetrate; upright, the present position has a surpassingness of its own; only when the two gates are read together does the assignment of position stop being a dead matching. The fourth is on why so many positions and Dharma gates need to be set up at all: in the bodhisattva’s practice there is “a mind that stops at what suffices, and a thought of taking rest,” and therefore he “sets up the fifty layers of cause and fruit and the hundred and ten layers of Dharma gates, so that the mind does not stall, rest, or leave off, and so that the vow-practice of Samantabhadra is fulfilled to its inexhaustible limit” — the multiplicity of the positions is not there to establish ranks but to counter the mind that halts halfway; what makes the indomitable indomitable lies exactly in this not halting and not resting. His statement on the classification of the teachings (“in this Avataṃsaka Sūtra the ten abodes are the path of seeing, while the ten practices, the ten dedications, and the eleven grounds are the preparatory practice”) is a judgment Li Tongxuan sets up for himself, and is not the plain text of the present sūtra. All these divergent glosses are settled teachings of the ancient worthies, and are recorded here.

As for the divergences of the other translation: in the sixty-fascicle version the friend of this position is the elder Nectar Crown, the city is likewise named Great Flourishing, the gate obtained is the Dharma gate of the jeweled treasury of merit at will, the next friend is Dharma-Jewel Cūḍā and his city the Lion’s Storeyed Pavilion; the eighty-fascicle version has the words “good friend” twenty-four times in its clause-groups, while the corresponding passage of the sixty has them sixteen times; the eighty divides the giving of Dharma into five kinds, while the sixty makes it one passage throughout. The forty-fascicle version likewise carries this friend’s passage whole; its city is the city of Great Abundance while the friend is likewise the householder Bright Wisdom, so that it stands near the eighty: in the clause-group of the contemplation carried forward, the eighty has twelve items and the forty thirteen, the one added being “opened that eye of merit,” and where the eighty has deep water, wheel, gate, and cultivating, the forty has spring, ground, teaching, and planting; in the clauses on relying upon the good friend the eighty has four repetitions and the forty five, the last adding “purifying all the faculties of a bodhisattva”; in the giving of goods the eighty stops at “all of it came down out of the sky,” while the forty goes on, “flowing on in succession into the householder’s palm,” and then “he handed all of it over with his own hand” — writing the two words “at will” all the way down into the hand; and in the giving of food the forty closes with “causing them to obtain constant life, form, strength, ease, and eloquence,” which answers exactly to the items of the five fruits Chengguan cites from the Nirvāṇa Sūtra — so that reading the giving of food as completing five fruits is not one house’s solitary view. These divergences of the three versions are recorded in the apparatus to this unit under eight groups of principal clauses, and are not listed again here.

What He Was Doing on the Road Before He Reached the Next Teacher

This unit does not open with walking; it opens with ten clauses of calling to mind. Sudhana, having heard the gate of liberation from the householder Bright Wisdom, then “roamed at ease in that ocean of merit, tilled that field of merit, gazed up at that mountain of merit, went toward that ford of merit, opened that treasury of merit, contemplated that Dharma of merit, purified that wheel of merit, savored that accumulation of merit, brought forth that strength of merit, increased that force of merit.” What all ten clauses are fastened to is the one word “merit,” while the ten acts performed are each different: to roam is to be steeped in it, to till is to set one’s hand to working it, to gaze up is to lift the head and see how high it stands, to go toward is to make for it, to open is to unlock it, to contemplate is to see clearly what it is, to purify is to wash it clean, to savor is to taste its flavor, to bring forth is to let it grow out of oneself, to increase is to make it larger.

Why should a single merit be treated in ten ways? Because what the previous good friend, the householder Bright Wisdom, showed was precisely the gate of merit, and merit is not a thing one takes in hand and has done with. A misreading must be cleared away: that going about to study means changing the subject every time one changes teachers, so that what was gained at the last station is set down and left behind. The order the scripture text gives is the exact opposite — these ten clauses are done on the road, not done on the seat.

Bringing it to the ground: what turns over in the mind along the stretch of road after leaving one good friend decides what one is able to see when one reaches the next. What this unit gives next is a house of ten storeys — and had these ten clauses not first ripened the sense of merit, that house too would have been, in Sudhana’s eyes, no more than a house.

Why This Teacher Was Found in the Marketplace

Sudhana “traveled on gradually toward the city of the Lion, searching everywhere for the elder Jewel Topknot,” and the place where he found him is “he saw this elder right in the middle of the market.” A great good friend whose dwelling has storeyed pavilions ten deep, and whom Chengguan judges to gather in the ten grounds and the ten practices together — and the scripture text has Sudhana meet him, of all places, in the market.

This stroke is not written carelessly. Chengguan outlines this passage as the seeing, the paying of respects, and the inquiring, and turns a phrase upon this one line, saying that “his being seen in the market shows that he dwells amid clamor and forgets the mind, that amid confusion he is constantly in concentration” — in the noisiest place he is able to forget the mind; in the most confused place he is constantly within concentration. Li Tongxuan reads this line in the same direction, saying “his being seen in the market makes clear that stillness and confusion are equal,” stillness and confusion being, in him, one and the same equal thing.

A misreading must be cleared away: that concentration must be sustained by its surroundings, and therefore a good friend ought to be found in the mountain forests. Were it so, the scripture text would need only to write that he was in his house — that house is a ready-made place of purity. Bringing it to the ground: to test one’s own concentration, do not look at how long one has sat; look at whether it can stand up to the marketplace. What this friend is assigned to is precisely the practice free of delusion and confusion among the ten practices, and these three graphs are glossed in Chengguan’s Yanyi chao as “concentration is aided by wisdom: in stillness nothing is left unilluminated, in movement there is no departing from quiet” — in stillness there is not one spot that is not lit, and in movement there is not one moment of leaving quiet.

Sudhana Asks the Same Question Again: How to Study, How to Cultivate

Sudhana’s question keeps broadly the same form across the fifty-odd units of this assembly, and the one in this unit is the complete pattern: “Holy one! I have already raised the mind of anuttarā-samyak-saṃbodhi, but I do not yet know how a bodhisattva is to study the bodhisattva practice, or how he is to cultivate the bodhisattva path. It would be good, holy one, if you would expound for me the paths of the bodhisattvas — I would ride upon this path and go toward omniscience!”

Four parts: first he reports that he has already raised the mind; next he states the two things he does not know (how to study the practice, how to cultivate the path); then he entreats; and last he states what he is ultimately after (going toward omniscience). One must ask: if every one of them asks the same thing, why does the scripture text write it out again in every unit? Because though what is asked is the same, the person met is not, and so the answer obtained is different every time — the sameness of the question is exactly what brings out the difference of the answers.

A misreading must be cleared away: that “I have already raised the mind of awakening” is a polite way of speaking about oneself. It is the qualification for entry: without first raising the mind, the practice and the path he goes on to ask about have nothing to be fastened to. Bringing it to the ground: every time, Sudhana begins from ‘I have already raised the mind, and I do not yet know’ — acknowledging first what he has, stating plainly what he does not, and this is the complete posture of one who seeks the Dharma.

He Answers Not One Word of Doctrine, but First Takes Sudhana by the Hand

The question asked, this elder did not teach. What the scripture text writes is “at that time the elder took Sudhana by the hand and led him to where he lived, showing him his house.” Between the question and the answer lie a stretch of road and a single gesture — taking the hand, bringing him home.

Why must this stretch be there? Chengguan divides the conferring of his own Dharma realm into four, and puts the taking of the hand first, saying “first, taking him by the hand and leading him on, which is the skillful means of conferring the Dharma, and shows that the knowledge of preparatory practice returns to direct realization.” Taking the hand is not courtesy; it is “the skillful means of conferring the Dharma”: the knowledge belonging to the stage of preparatory practice needs this one leading in order to return to direct realization. Li Tongxuan puts out a separate phrase upon this line, saying “as for his taking Sudhana by the hand, it is drawing him in and receiving him.”

A misreading must be cleared away: that conferring the Dharma must mean opening one’s mouth and speaking. From beginning to end in this unit the elder speaks only four passages, three of them at the very end; and for the part that is the direct conferring of the Dharma realm, all he says is one line: “Son of good family! Just look at my house.” Bringing it to the ground: the most important move a good friend makes is sometimes not to speak to you, but to take you somewhere and let you see for yourself.

“Just Look at My House” — These Four Chinese Characters Are the Direct Conferring of the Dharma Realm

The first thing the elder says is “Son of good family! Just look at my house.” Chengguan judges this line to be the second part, saying “second, from ‘he said in this way’ downward, is the showing of where he dwells, which is the direct conferring of the Dharma realm” — this one line, the showing of where he dwells, is the formal handing over of the Dharma realm to Sudhana.

One must ask: how can a single ‘look at my house’ be the direct conferring of the Dharma realm? Because the house observed below is not a building; it is the shape and figure of this bodhisattva’s whole practice, position, and reward. At the end of the three senses of the ten storeys Chengguan gathers it into one line, saying “taking together the dharmas of cause and fruit and practice and position in the three senses above, they are made the elder’s house” — cause, fruit, practice, position: these dharmas, put together, are the elder’s house. So the three Chinese characters that say “look at my house” amount to saying ‘come and see the whole of what I have cultivated and realized in this life.’

A misreading must be cleared away: that this is a display of wealth. Were it a display of wealth, Sudhana would not have asked, when he had finished looking, “by what conditions was this brought about,” nor would the elder have answered with one pellet of incense. Bringing it to the ground: what one can truly bring out and show another is the road one has walked, not the things picked up along it.

What the House Is Like: Ten Storeys and Eight Gates

What Sudhana saw as a whole is: “pure and full of light, made of true gold, with silver for its walls, crystal for its halls, and the deep-blue beryl jewel for its storeyed pavilions, while the exquisite jewel giant-clam formed its pillars,” and there follow the jeweled seat, the jeweled curtains, the netting of true pearls, the pool of agate, and the ranks of jeweled trees, and the last line is “his house was broad and spacious, with ten storeys and eight gates.”

Li Tongxuan does not take Chengguan’s gathering-into-one, but matches the materials one by one with the perfections. True gold is the main substance of the house, figuring the substance of concentration as white, pure, and stainless; silver for the walls is “the substance of meditation completing the precepts, which is the sense of guarding” — the use of a wall is to guard, and the use of the precepts is likewise to guard. Crystal for the halls is “the substance of meditation revealing knowledge and completing forbearance”; and he puts a phrase upon this jewel, that it is “like water-crystal, bright and pure, yet holding many colors that differ” — bright and pure and yet able to hold many colors is exactly the mark of forbearance. The deep-blue beryl jewel for the storeyed pavilions is “the making of vigor out of the substance of meditation, so that contemplative illumination grows the brighter, purer, and cleaner” — the further the contemplation advances, the purer its color. The pillars are “meditation made the practice, so that all dharmas are upheld and sustained” — the use of a pillar is to uphold, and so a pillar figures upholding. As for the remaining adornments below these, he says they are “ranked in order according to the ten perfections,” and glosses them no further one by one. What is to be looked at is the consistency of this way of reading: a difference of material is a difference of perfection; and the reason they can be matched one by one is that this house was never a building in the first place.

Ten storeys and eight gates: these four Chinese characters are the bone of this unit. Chengguan first glosses their shape, saying “as for the ten storeys and eight gates, it is like the form of an eight-sided pagoda; the storeys and the gates have three senses each, the storeys being explained in the separate section” — it is a pagoda-form of eight sides, the storeys have three senses, and the gates have three as well. As for the three senses of the gates, he says “first, taking it broadly as the path cultivated, the eightfold right path is made the gates, since the eightfold right path leads into all the positions. Second, taking it as the path relied upon, the eight consciousnesses are made the gates, since it is within the eye faculty that one enters right concentration … Third, taking it as the doctrine that reveals the principle, it is the four propositions entering the Dharma. Doctrine and principle have four each, and so there are eight gates.” The eightfold right path is the path cultivated; the eight consciousnesses are the path relied upon; the four propositions of doctrine and the four of principle together make eight, and that is taking the doctrine as revealing the principle.

Upon this the Yanyi chao opens a further road. The Chao, going by the new scripture, says “two gates on each face,” and therefore has eight gates (the eighty at this point reads “ten storeys and eight gates,” while the four words “two gates on each face” answer to the forty’s “on each of its four sides two gates were opened”); the Chao says “then it may equally be by the difference of keeping and obliterating in the four gates that eight are made” — there are not another eight gates; each of the four becomes two, once as kept and once as obliterated. The gate of existence: “seeing the exquisite existence of mind and entering the Dharma realm” is the gate of existence; “but if one grasps at existence, then the mark of existence is swept away,” and it is named the gate of non-existence. The gate of emptiness: “to know that dharmas are empty and still is the gate of emptiness”; and yet “taking emptiness as the gate of emptiness, one provisionally speaks of the gate of non-emptiness.” The third: if one says “deluded confusion is fundamentally empty while true knowledge is not empty,” that is the gate of both existence and emptiness; yet this gate too is provisional, for “the deluded is set up in dependence on the true; the deluded has no source of its own, and the true is declared over against the deluded, so that the true is not the true either” — the two substances not standing, both are kept and both are lost, and there comes “the gate of both existent and non-existent, both non-existent and not non-existent.” The fourth: to call it existent, “it has no mark and no name”; to call it non-existent, “the sage takes it as his numinous ground”; and so it is the gate of neither existence nor non-existence; yet “if one is stuck in the double negation, one has not escaped frivolous discourse, and so it is swept away again,” and there comes “the gate of neither-not-existent-nor-not-non-existent.” The turn by which grasping is swept away four times over lies just here: first the mark of existence is swept away, next the taking of emptiness as emptiness, next the two substances of true and deluded, and last the sticking in the double negation — and each sweeping restores the gate before it from ‘a view held’ to ‘a gate one can enter.’

A misreading must be cleared away: that the eight gates are only a number of a building. Under the third sense Chengguan further sorts the gaining from the losing, saying “that is: if the intent be lost, then existence and emptiness are both obliterated, and it becomes the four defamations; if the intent be gained, they lead one in, and all alike are called gates” — the same four propositions: used well they are four gates, used badly they are four defamations. The Yanyi chao draws this tighter still: “gain the intent and they are gates; lose the intent and these eight are not gates either.” Li Tongxuan takes only the one sense of the eightfold right path, saying “the four quarters make eight in all, which makes clear the practice of the eightfold right path.” Bringing it to the ground: what makes a gate a gate is not the gate itself, but the person who can get through it.

The Lowest Storey: The Giving of Food and Drink

Of the first of the ten storeys the scripture text says only eight Chinese characters: “he saw that the lowest storey was the giving of every kind of food and drink.”

Why should the lowest storey of a house that Chengguan judges to gather in the ten grounds be a place where people are given something to eat? Chengguan answers this under the first sense of the ten storeys, saying “first, the giving of food, which shows the practice of giving on the first ground” — what the bodhisattva of the first ground practices is the perfection of giving, and the most intimate thing in giving is food and drink. And under the third sense, this storey is the first of “the first four being the giving of goods,” after which the goods grow weightier and the matter harder, and so he says “each later one grows harder.”

A misreading must be cleared away: that giving people food is the shallowest of practices and so is put at the bottom. It is put at the bottom not because it is shallow but because it is first — every practice sets out from here, and everyone receives its use from here. Li Tongxuan, matching the ten perfections “ranked from the bottom upward,” likewise has giving as the first. Bringing it to the ground: in a house of ten storeys, the lowest storey is always the one kept open for feeding people; however high the nine above it may be, they stand upon this one.

The Second Storey: The Giving of Jeweled Garments

The second storey is “the giving of every kind of jeweled garment.”

From food to clothing is the second layer of the goods given. Chengguan matches it with the second ground, saying “the second ground, keeping the precepts, with shame and conscience for its garment.” This line must be read carefully: he is not saying that the bodhisattva of the second ground gives garments away, but that the garment here stands for the keeping of precepts — for the teaching often takes shame and conscience as a garment, able to cover what is unseemly in the body. The second is precisely the Stainless Ground, whose chief practice is the precepts.

One must ask: the scripture text says only that garments are given, so how can it stand for the precepts? Because the ten storeys are one set of figures: what is given on each storey is at the same time what is cultivated at each position. What is given, as a matter of fact, is a garment; what it figures is shame and conscience. And a misreading must be cleared away: that reading it this way turns the scripture text into an allegory and lets the matter of fact fall away. It does not — the matter of fact is still the actual giving of garments, and the figure is a further layer read out on top of the fact; the two do not obstruct each other.

Bringing it to the ground: shame and conscience are worn upon the body, not kept unmoving in the mind. When a man has them, it can be seen in how he carries himself, as a garment is seen upon the body.

The Third Storey: The Giving of All Jeweled Ornaments

The third storey is “the giving of all jeweled ornaments.” Ornaments are the necklaces, bracelets, and armlets and their kind.

Chengguan matches it with the third ground, saying “the third ground, the practice of forbearance made its ornaments.” The third is the Luminous Ground, whose chief practice is forbearance. How can forbearance serve as an ornament? Because forbearance is not the swallowing of anger; it is the not altering of one’s bearing even when one is encroached upon and injured — and such a man’s bearing is naturally worth looking at, as though he wore ornaments upon his body.

A misreading must be cleared away: that forbearance is the taking of wrong and therefore an unhandsome thing. The scripture text here matches it, of all things, with ornaments. Bringing it to the ground: what is truly handsome in a man is not how he looks when all goes well, but how he looks when he is struck against — the countenance at that moment is the ornament he wears.

The Fourth Storey: The Giving of Attendant Women and the Finest Jewels

The fourth storey is “the giving of every kind of attendant woman, and of all the finest and most exquisite jewels.”

Chengguan matches it with the fourth ground, saying “the fourth ground, the factors of the path made the inner retinue, vigor being what is precious.” The fourth is the Flaming Wisdom Ground, whose chief practice is vigor, and what is cultivated there is the thirty-seven factors of the path. He reads the attendant women as “the inner retinue” — the factors of the path are the bodhisattva’s inward retinue; and he reads the jewels as “vigor being what is precious” — vigor is the jewel worth prizing.

A misreading must be cleared away: that the giving of attendant women is a hard passage, even a questionable one. What the scripture text lists is, as a matter of fact, what that world called the highest of gifts; as a figure, Chengguan reads it as the inner retinue, that is, the constant and inseparable company of the thirty-seven factors of the path. This is the reading of the ancient worthies, not something the scripture text marks for itself, yet it is precisely what holds the one set of figures of the ten storeys together within. Bringing it to the ground: the retinue that truly stays with a man his whole life long is the dharmas he cultivates daily, and nothing else.

The Fifth Storey: Bodhisattvas of the Fifth Ground Gathered Like Clouds, Expounding the Dharma

From the fifth storey up, what is seen is no longer the goods given but the assembly gathered. The scripture text says “he saw that on the fifth storey there were even bodhisattvas of the fifth ground gathered there like clouds, expounding every kind of Dharma for the benefit of the world, having brought to accomplishment all the gates of dhāraṇī, every kind of seal of samādhi, and the light of wisdom belonging to every kind of practice of samādhi.”

Chengguan passes over this in four graphs, saying “the fifth ground, plain in the text” — the scripture text itself writes “bodhisattvas of the fifth ground,” and no further matching is needed. And under the third sense, the fifth and sixth storeys are “the next two, the gathering for the giving of Dharma, the first shallow and the second deep”: the first four storeys give goods, and these two give Dharma, and within the giving of Dharma the fifth is shallow and the sixth deep.

One must ask: why does the giving of Dharma only begin at the fifth storey? Because the first four storeys are the provisions, and the giving of Dharma requires a vessel able to receive it. A misreading must be cleared away: that the giving of goods is worldly and the giving of Dharma is the Way, and so one ought to read straight from the fifth storey. Were that so, this house would need only six storeys. Bringing it to the ground: the giving of goods and the giving of Dharma are within the same house, related as lower and upper storeys, not as outside and inside.

The Sixth Storey: Fifteen Gates of Wisdom

The sixth storey is the longest passage in the whole house. The scripture text first writes of the persons — “there were bodhisattvas who had all brought to accomplishment a most profound wisdom, who had penetrated the nature of all dharmas with perfect clarity,” “whose conduct was without obstruction, and who did not abide in the two opposed sides of things” — then leads off with “that is to say” and lists fifteen prajñā-pāramitā gates by name, closing with “they expounded a million asaṃkhyeya prajñā-pāramitā gates such as these.”

Chengguan matches it with the sixth ground, saying “the sixth ground, since wisdom is made manifest” — the sixth, the Manifest Ground, has wisdom for its chief practice. He also judges this passage into three, saying “in the text there are three: first the summary. Next, from ‘that is to say’ downward, the separate display of the fifteen gates,” “afterward, from ‘they expounded such as these’ downward, the general conclusion,” and he puts a sense under each of the fifteen gates: the first, “the illumining substance is itself still, and there is nothing it does not embrace”; the second, “the illumining that is itself stillness leaves no capacity unexamined”; the third, “outer conditions do not turn it”; the fourth, “inward illumination seeks nothing”; the fifth, “the objects of delusion do not break it”; the sixth, “it breaks all delusions everywhere”; the seventh, “it holds surpassing virtue within and is most profound”; the eighth, “it sees the Dharma realm universally and without obstruction”; the ninth, “one is itself inexhaustible”; the tenth, “skillful in transforming without bound”; the eleventh, “inwardly realizing the world”; the twelfth, “outwardly setting forth surpassing eloquence”; the thirteenth, “bending to accord with what creatures desire”; the fourteenth, “fact and principle interlaced”; the fifteenth, “contemplating conditions and conferring the Dharma.”

Read gate against gate, the names in the scripture text and Chengguan’s glosses answer to one another exactly. “The treasury of stillness” is glossed “the illumining substance is itself still, and there is nothing it does not embrace” — the substance of illumining is of itself still, hence stillness; and nothing is left outside its holding, hence treasury. “The knowledge that well discerns all beings” is glossed “the illumining that is itself stillness leaves no capacity unexamined.” “The unshakable” is glossed “outer conditions do not turn it.” “The light free of desire” is glossed “inward illumination seeks nothing” — to illumine inwardly and seek nothing is freedom from desire. “The treasury that cannot be subdued” is glossed “the objects of delusion do not break it.” “Illumining the wheel of beings” is glossed “it breaks all delusions everywhere” — where it reaches the turning wheel of beings, delusions are broken through. “The ocean-treasury” is glossed “it holds surpassing virtue within and is most profound.” “Universal eyes that give and gain” is glossed “it sees the Dharma realm universally and without obstruction.” “Entering the inexhaustible treasury” is glossed “one is itself inexhaustible.” “The ocean of all skillful means” is glossed “skillful in transforming without bound.” “Entering the ocean of all worlds” is glossed “inwardly realizing the world.” “Unobstructed eloquence” is glossed “outwardly setting forth surpassing eloquence.” “According with beings” is glossed “bending to accord with what creatures desire.” “Unobstructed light” is glossed “fact and principle interlaced” — what makes the light unobstructed is exactly that fact and principle are woven into each other. “Ever contemplating former conditions and spreading the cloud of Dharma” is glossed “contemplating conditions and conferring the Dharma.” Why the fifteen differ: the first ten speak of wisdom’s own substance (stillness · illumining · unshakability · freedom from desire · indestructibility · the breaking of delusion · holding within · universal seeing · inexhaustibility · skillful transforming), and the last five speak of what wisdom passes through (self-realization · outward expounding · according with desires · fact and principle · the conferring of Dharma); the substance once standing, there is then the working it passes through.

A misreading must be cleared away: that the fifteen names are a spread of synonyms, so that reading one lets you infer the rest. Chengguan’s fifteen lines show at once that it is not so — the first two are a pair, stillness and illumining; the several in the middle face objects and face delusions; and the last five cannot all be put down to the working of transforming others: the eleventh, “inwardly realizing the world,” turns inward upon his own realization; only the twelfth, “outwardly setting forth surpassing eloquence,” turns outward in expounding; the thirteenth, “bending to accord with what creatures desire,” stoops to what beings want; the fourteenth, “fact and principle interlaced,” has fact and principle woven into each other; and the fifteenth, “contemplating conditions and conferring the Dharma,” comes down exactly upon this business of a good friend conferring the Dharma. Bringing it to the ground: wisdom is not one capacity but fifteen faces and more; whichever face one cannot bring to bear is the face that has not yet become manifest.

The Seventh Storey: Obtaining the Forbearance of the Echo

The seventh storey is “there were bodhisattvas who had obtained the forbearance of the echo, who by the knowledge of skillful means discerned and contemplated and so found their way out, and who were all able to hear and hold the right Dharma of the buddhas.”

The forbearance of the echo is one of the ten forbearances: knowing all sound and speech to be like an echo in a valley — sound there is, but no substance; it is not that there is no sound. Chengguan matches it with the seventh ground, saying “the seventh ground has a surpassing practice and knows every kind of teaching, and so it is said to obtain the forbearance of the echo.” What marks the seventh, the Far-Reaching Ground, is skillfulness in means, and to know every kind of teaching requires just this forbearance: knowing them to be like an echo, one will not cling to words and speech; holding them without forgetting, one will not fall into saying nothing at all.

A misreading must be cleared away: that once one knows words to be like an echo, one need not receive and hold the teaching. The scripture text in this passage puts, right after the forbearance of the echo, “and who were all able to hear and hold the right Dharma of the buddhas” — precisely because they are like an echo, one can hold them and not be crushed by them. Bringing it to the ground: doing two things at once with a single sentence — not taking it for something substantial, and not making light of it on that account — is what the forbearance of the echo looks like in daily use.

The Eighth Storey: One Voice Pervading the Lands, Foremost in the Assemblies

The eighth storey writes of spiritual powers. The scripture text says “measureless bodhisattvas gathered together, all of whom had obtained spiritual powers without falling back, who could fill the lands of the ten directions with a single voice, whose bodies appeared everywhere in all the grounds of awakening, exhausting the whole Dharma realm with nothing left unpervaded, who entered everywhere into the realm of the buddhas, saw everywhere the bodies of the buddhas, and were everywhere foremost in all the assemblies of the buddhas, expounding the Dharma.”

Chengguan judges that it holds two positions, saying “within the eighth storey two positions are held: first, the effortless spiritual powers of the eighth ground, the mastery over the three kinds of world. Second, the Dharma master of the ninth ground, able to expound with a single voice.” What marks the eighth, the Immovable Ground, is effortless practice, and so its spiritual powers are “without falling back”; the ninth, the Excellent Wisdom Ground, is the position of a Dharma master, and so it is “able to expound with a single voice.” One storey holding two grounds is a turning point in the matching of the ten storeys to the ten grounds in this unit.

A misreading must be cleared away: that spiritual powers are a display of ability. Behind every item the scripture text lists there follows another: pervading the lands is for the sake of appearing bodily at the grounds of awakening, appearing bodily is for the sake of entering everywhere into the realm of the buddhas, entering the realm of the buddhas is for the sake of expounding the Dharma in the assemblies. Bringing it to the ground: the use of spiritual powers here is only to let one sentence of Dharma arrive where it ought to arrive.

The Ninth Storey: Bound to One More Birth

The ninth storey is very short: “he saw that on the ninth storey the bodhisattvas bound to one more birth were gathered in assembly.” Bound to one more birth is the position with only one life remaining before buddhahood.

Chengguan says “the ninth storey too has two positions, since the tenth ground and equal awakening may both be taken as one birth” — both the tenth, the Dharma Cloud Ground, and equal awakening may be counted as bound to one more birth, and so this storey too holds two positions. And under the second sense (the ten storeys figuring the ten practices), he says “the ninth, bound to one more birth, since strength is the highest,” matching it with the ninth of the ten perfections, the perfection of strength.

A misreading must be cleared away: that at this storey there is nothing left to do. What the scripture text says is “gathered in assembly” — still gathering, still within this house. Bringing it to the ground: the last stretch of road is not spent waiting with empty hands; it is still spent among the assembly. The only difference is that when this one life is done, the matter is finished.

The Tenth Storey: All the Tathāgatas Filling It

The topmost storey is not bodhisattvas but buddhas. The scripture text says “he saw that on the tenth storey all the tathāgatas filled it: from their first raising of the mind, cultivating the bodhisattva practice, passing beyond birth and death, bringing their great vows and the power of their spiritual penetrations to fullness, purifying the buddha-lands and the assemblies at the ground of awakening, turning the wheel of the right Dharma, and taming beings. All of this he caused Sudhana to see with perfect clarity.”

Chengguan settles the matching in one line, saying “the tenth storey is the ground of the Tathāgata”; and under the second sense he says “the tenth, since only upon reaching the Tathāgata’s knowledge is it full,” matching it with the tenth perfection, the perfection of knowledge. Li Tongxuan matches it with the perfection of knowledge likewise, and glosses its aspect, saying “the tenth storey makes clear the tenth perfection of knowledge, wherein the causes and fruits of the buddhas of the three times are gathered into a full circle in a single thought, and the transforming of beings and the entering of nirvāṇa are all alike unshifting.”

What is worth noticing is how this storey is written: it does not write the fruit-virtues of a buddha; it writes a buddha’s course of life — from the first raising of the mind onward, cultivating, passing beyond birth and death, fulfilling vows, purifying lands, turning the wheel of Dharma, taming beings. A misreading must be cleared away: that the topmost storey ought to be the most abstruse. It is on the contrary the plainest passage of all, because it says over again, whole, the road that has been walked since the lowest storey. Bringing it to the ground: the last line, “all of this he caused Sudhana to see with perfect clarity” — the meaning of this house is that it is to be seen; and what is seen is a road running from the lowest storey to the highest.

Sudhana Asked Only One Thing: How Did This Come About

The ten storeys seen through, what Sudhana asked was not the name of a gate but where it came from: “Holy one! By what conditions was so pure an assembly brought about? What roots of goodness were planted, that such a reward has been gained?” Two questions — by what conditions such an assembly was drawn together, and what roots of goodness were planted to gain such a reward.

Chengguan judges this to be the fourth of the four parts of the conferring of his own Dharma realm, saying “fourth, from ‘at that time Sudhana saw these things’ downward, is the questioning and answering about the conditions, which is subsequently attained knowledge.” The first three cannot all be called the direct realization: the first, the taking of the hand and the leading on, is “the skillful means of conferring the Dharma,” whose work is to “show that the knowledge of preparatory practice returns to direct realization” — that knowledge returns into direct realization by it, and is not itself that realization; the second, the showing of where he dwells, is “the direct conferring of the Dharma realm,” the formal handing over; and only the third, Sudhana’s seeing of the house, is “the direct realization of the Dharma realm.” This fourth part, the questioning and answering about the conditions, is what is subsequently attained — to have realized and then to look back and know how it came so is subsequently attained knowledge.

A misreading must be cleared away: that having seen is enough, and asking where it came from is superfluous. The order of this unit is exactly the reverse: first the observing (direct realization), then the asking (subsequent attainment). Had there been observing and no asking, what Sudhana carried away would be the impression of a house; having asked, what he carries away is a road that can be walked. Bringing it to the ground: when one meets a man who has accomplished something, asking ‘how did he come by it’ is far more use than praising ‘how remarkable he is’ — and this unit has written that one question into the scripture.

One Pellet of Incense: The Cause Given in Answer Is Astonishingly Small

The elder’s answer is only a few lines: “I call to mind the past, beyond as many kalpas as there are dust-motes in a buddha-land, when there was a world named Perfect Adornment, whose buddha was called the Tathāgata King of the Boundless Light That Universally Adorns the Dharma Realm, the Worthy One, the Perfectly Awakened One, complete in all ten titles. When that buddha entered the city, I made music sound, and I burned one pellet of incense as an offering, and I dedicated and directed this merit and virtue to three places, namely: to be forever free of all poverty and hardship, to see the buddhas and the good friends always, and to hear the right Dharma constantly — and so I gained such a reward as this.”

The reward is ten storeys; the cause given in answer is one performance of music and one pellet of incense burned. The pivot lies in four graphs: “the dedicating to three places.” Chengguan matches the three places against the ten storeys in two groups, saying “as for the dedicating and directing to three places, being free of poverty draws the reward of the first four storeys. The two fruits, the second and the third, are the latter six layers” — the first place, freedom from poverty, draws the reward of the giving of goods on the first four storeys; the second and third places (always seeing the buddhas and the good friends, constantly hearing the right Dharma) draw the reward of Dharma and realization on the latter six. And as to how so slight a cause gains so great a reward, he says “a cause as slight as a single pellet, whose reward is surpassing by the power of the vow,” and again “it further signifies that all practices merged together give rise to the turning toward buddhahood, and then in any single practice there is nothing not furnished. What fruit would not be climbed to?” Li Tongxuan for his part sets up the figure upon the incense, saying “the incense of concentration, though only one pellet be burned, has the fivefold dharma-body complete in it.”

A misreading must be cleared away: that this says a small good may by luck gain a great reward. What the scripture text writes is the step that came after the offering — the dedicating. Bringing it to the ground: one and the same pellet of incense may be burned and be done with, or be burned and then turned toward three places; and the reward differs by that one turning.

Humbling Himself and Pointing to the Superior: I Know Only This One Treasury

The elder’s closing words: “Son of good family! I know only this bodhisattva liberation gate of the treasury of measureless merit.” On the two graphs “treasury of jewels” in the name of the gate, Chengguan glosses it by way of the house, saying “the jewels of the world and the three jewels are stored up and heaped within the ten layers, and so it is called a treasury of jewels. Its use is constant and inexhaustible, and this is measureless merit” — the jewels of the world and the three jewels are alike heaped up within these ten storeys, and so it is called a treasury of jewels; its use is never used up, and so it is called measureless merit.

Then comes the pointing to the superior, where the scripture text sets down nine clauses in a row with “without discrimination”: entering the ocean of the Tathāgata’s body without discrimination, receiving the unsurpassed cloud of Dharma without discrimination, cultivating the equipment of merit and virtue without discrimination, raising the net of the practice of Samantabhadra without discrimination, entering the realm of samādhi without discrimination, being equal to the roots of goodness of bodhisattvas without discrimination, abiding where the Tathāgatas abide without discrimination, realizing the sameness of the three times without discrimination, abiding in the realm of universal eyes without discrimination. Chengguan judges the text into the general and the particular, saying “that the treasury of merit and virtue is in every way inconceivable is the general clause. From ‘entering without discrimination’ downward is the particular exposition. It is by being without discrimination that all dharmas are furnished, and therefore it is inconceivable.”

What the nine clauses point to differs in each: “the ocean of the Tathāgata’s body” is the buddha-body entered, deep and wide as an ocean; “the unsurpassed cloud of Dharma” is the teaching received, covering all as a cloud; “the equipment of merit and virtue” is the provision cultivated, what the walking of the path relies upon; “the net of the practice of Samantabhadra” is the practice raised, practice interlacing practice as in a net; “the realm of samādhi” is the concentrated realm entered; “the roots of goodness of bodhisattvas” is the cause one is made equal to; “where the Tathāgatas abide” is the place of abiding, dwelling where the buddhas dwell; “the sameness of the three times” is the principle realized, the three times being one; “the realm of universal eyes” is the ground of seeing abided in, as far as universal eyes reach. The nine have an order of their own: from entering the buddha’s body to receiving the Dharma, to cultivating the provision, to raising the practice; and from practice to entering concentration, to being equal to the roots of goodness, to abiding where the buddhas abide, to realizing the sameness of the three times, to abiding in universal eyes — from what is entered to what is abided in, a single line running down. And the reason all nine are headed by “without discrimination” is exactly Chengguan’s judgment, “it is by being without discrimination that all dharmas are furnished”: it is not that nine separate matters are each without discrimination, but that the one matter of being without discrimination furnishes these nine.

A misreading must be cleared away: that humbling oneself is a courtesy. This passage shows at once that it is not: what he points to is a deeper place within the very same matter — his own house is piled up storey by storey “with discrimination,” whereas what the great bodhisattvas practice is being furnished with all dharmas “without discrimination.” Bringing it to the ground: to know which storey of the ten one has reached is far harder than to boast of having got through to the top.

Pointing to the Next Friend: The Elder Universal Eye

At the last the elder points the road: “Son of good family! Going south from here, there is a land named Vine Root; in that land there is a city named Universal Gate; and in the city there is an elder named Universal Eye. Go there and ask him: how is a bodhisattva to study the bodhisattva practice and cultivate the bodhisattva path?”

The three names read in a row have their own order: the land named Vine Root, the city named Universal Gate, the man named Universal Eye. And the question he is charged with is word for word the two questions Sudhana asked when he came — “how is he to study the bodhisattva practice and cultivate the bodhisattva path.”

A misreading must be cleared away: that pointing to the next friend is a formulaic close. It is in fact the pivot of the structure of this assembly: what each good friend confers is both his own single gate and also ‘where you should go next.’ Bringing it to the ground: that a teacher is willing to send you on to the next one is itself part of the Dharma he confers — he knows that his own gate has a boundary, and knows too that beyond the boundary there is more road.

Cherishing His Virtue and Taking Leave

The last line of this unit is “then Sudhana the youth bowed to his feet, circumambulated him numberless times, gazed up at him with earnest devotion, and took his leave and departed.” Four acts: bowing, circumambulating, gazing up, departing. Set beside the other units of this assembly, the leave-taking passage here is extremely short, having neither a list of what was gained nor a long passage of longing.

A misreading must be cleared away: that short means light. The weight of this passage lies not in its length but in its place — it comes right after the nine clauses of “without discrimination,” and directly beneath a house of ten storeys. Bringing it to the ground: to have looked through such a house and still be able to perform four acts quietly and go is itself what it looks like when what has been learned has been received into use.

Lineage

Of the text of this unit, the streams opened downward run in three lines.

The first is the line of one position gathering in the positions. Chengguan takes the ten storeys as figuring, in two senses at once, both the ten grounds and the ten practices, and returns them to the present position gathering in all positions, pointing back besides to the earlier Ocean Banner, saying “taking the ten storeys as figuring the two senses at once is as with Ocean Banner, where the present position had barely finished gathering in the ten positions before the attainment of buddhahood was spoken of. The earlier was assigned to the sixth position gathering them in, this to the fifth position gathering them in. The earlier gathered them by way of the direct recompense, this gathers them by way of the circumstantial recompense — both showing the position to be surpassing what went before.” Ocean Banner gathers in all positions by way of the direct recompense (assemblies issuing from the parts of his body), while this friend gathers them in by way of the circumstantial recompense (the house he dwells in): two units on one and the same axis, differing in the aspect they take. Li Tongxuan agrees in the main, his text running thus, saying “the storeyed pavilions of ten storeys belonging to this elder gather in altogether the ten abodes, the ten practices, the ten dedications, the ten grounds, the eleventh ground, and the buddha-fruit, all comprehended together.”

The second is the line of the divergent glosses of the several houses, each with its own track, recorded without adjudication. As for the outline of this unit, Chengguan makes six parts (seeking in accord with the teaching · seeing, paying respects, and inquiring · conferring his own Dharma realm · humbling himself and pointing to the superior, with the pointing to the next friend and the cherishing of his virtue and taking leave not set up as separate outline headings in his gloss), while Li Tongxuan does not follow the six parts but opens ten gates of his own under the direct entry into the Dharma gate of the present position. As for what the ten storeys figure, Chengguan sets up three senses (figuring the ten grounds · figuring the ten practices · figuring no position at all), while Li Tongxuan has the single sense of matching the ten perfections ranked from the bottom upward. As for the sense of the eight gates, Chengguan sets up three (the eightfold right path · the eight consciousnesses · the four gates of doctrine and principle), and Chengguan’s Yanyi chao further opens the four gates into eight by their being kept or obliterated (existence / non-existence · emptiness / non-emptiness · both existence and emptiness / both existent and non-existent and both non-existent and not non-existent · neither existence nor non-existence / neither-not-existent-nor-not-non-existent), while Li Tongxuan takes only the single sense of the eightfold right path. As for the gloss on the friend’s name, Chengguan glosses it by the name of the gate, “the jewels of the world and the three jewels are stored up and heaped within the ten layers, and so it is called a treasury of jewels,” while Li Tongxuan glosses it by the gate of concentration, “gathered altogether into a topknot, this being the sense of it.” As for the gloss on the city’s name, Chengguan gives no separate gloss, while Li Tongxuan makes it “the Lion’s Palace” and takes the sense of fearlessness. As for the figure of the original cause, Chengguan takes “a cause as slight as a single pellet, whose reward is surpassing by the power of the vow,” while Li Tongxuan takes “the incense of concentration, though only one pellet be burned, has the fivefold dharma-body complete in it.” Fazang’s Tanxuan ji and Zhiyan’s Souxuan ji both set up a dedicated gloss under the sixty-fascicle form of the name “Dharma-Jewel Cūḍā,” each on a track of his own: Fazang sets up three glosses on the ten layers (the ten grounds · the ten practices · not taken by position at all), broadly answering to Chengguan’s three senses though the wording differs; for the eight gates he takes the eight noble paths and sets out besides the four means of gathering and the four measureless minds; his gates of wisdom name ten in the heading and list eleven; and under the name of the gate he cites the Indian text. Zhiyan sets up three parts (the exhortation of the teaching · the entering · the direct entry), divides the direct entry into the gathering by the circumstantial recompense and the gathering by the direct recompense, and within the ten layers of the direct recompense marks the eighth layer as the virtue of the eighth ground with mastery over the three kinds of world and the tenth layer as the fruit contained within the cause. Zhiyan besides, in the section of the Kongmu zhang headed “fifth, taking it by the sense of the one vehicle,” takes this friend as attestation, saying “further, on the tenth ground there is also a separate attainment of buddhahood, as is said in the section on the good friend Dharma-Jewel Cūḍā” — and what makes him take this friend is precisely that this friend’s house of ten storeys gathers in everything from the ten abodes to the buddha-fruit, so that it can attest that beings “attain buddhahood alike in the lower positions and in the lower bodies”; this is Zhiyan’s own language of doctrinal classification, recorded without adjudication. All these divergent glosses are settled teachings of the ancient worthies.

The third is the line of the divergences between the witnesses. In the sixty-fascicle version this friend’s name is “Dharma-Jewel Cūḍā,” and five of its divergences bear upon doctrine. First, the place of the meeting: the eighty has him “right in the middle of the market,” the sixty has him “met upon the road” — Chengguan’s turn, “it shows that he dwells amid clamor and forgets the mind, that amid confusion he is constantly in concentration,” is fastened to the market of the eighty, and the sixty has no such text to turn. Second, the number of the gates of wisdom: the eighty names fifteen, the sixty eleven, the forty sixteen; the one name “the ocean-treasury” is wholly the same in the eighty and the sixty, while the forty has “the ocean-treasury of merit and virtue.” Fazang, glossing the sixty, names ten gates in his heading and lists eleven, close to the number of the sixty; Chengguan, glossing the eighty, judges it “the separate display of the fifteen gates.” Third, the name of the gate: the eighty has “the bodhisattva liberation gate of the treasury of measureless merit,” the sixty “the Dharma gate of the fulfilling of great vows,” the forty “the liberation gate of the treasury of merit of the unobstructed vow that universally adorns” — one names it by the treasury, one by the great vow, one by vow and treasury of merit together; and Fazang, under the sixty, cites besides the Indian text, “the unobstructed vow that adorns the ground of awakening,” glossing it himself, “his former vow penetrates to the subtlest, and this is named the unobstructed vow.” Fourth, the axis of the pointing to the superior: the eighty sets down nine clauses of “without discrimination,” the sixty several clauses of “that cannot be destroyed” — Fazang, glossing the indestructibility of the sixty, says “because its virtue is exhausted and full, because there is no further ascent, because it is not moved by conditions,” while Chengguan, glossing the non-discrimination of the eighty, says “it is by being without discrimination that all dharmas are furnished.” The one speaks from the unmovedness of virtue, the other from the furnishing of all dharmas by non-discrimination: they tend to the same place, and the aspect each takes differs. Fifth, the order of the last two clauses of the humbling of himself and the pointing to the superior is reversed between the two: the eighty has first “abiding in the realm of universal eyes free of discrimination” and then “abiding through all kalpas without weariness,” while the sixty has first “abiding through all kalpas without fatigue” and then “abiding in the ground of the realm of universal eyes that cannot be destroyed” — the eighty closing upon the kalpas, the sixty closing upon the realm. Recorded without adjudication.

The forty-fascicle version too carries this friend’s passage whole, its city “the Lion’s Palace” and the friend “Honored Dharma-Jewel Topknot,” and three of its divergences bear upon doctrine. First, on the sixth storey the eighty has “not abiding in the two opposed sides of things” where the forty has “abiding in the non-dual Dharma” — the one negating, the other affirming, and the tendency the same. Second, on the eighth storey the forty sets out besides the four similes “like an illusion, like a flame, like a shadow, like a reflection, without real nature,” making clear that the buddha-lands and assemblies seen have no real nature, where the eighty on this storey only narrates spiritual powers pervading the lands and has no such set of similes. Third, in the passage of the original cause the forty sets out, after the sounding of music and the burning of incense, a long passage of the cloud of incense raining over Jambudvīpa “for seven days and seven nights” and of the music setting forth the Tathāgata’s vast gathering of knowledge, where the eighty goes no further than the offering — for the one cause, the forty writes the marks it drew forth, the eighty writes it at its barest. Recorded without adjudication.

In the text of this one unit, the first half is looking and the second half is asking. What is looked at is ten storeys; what is asked about is one pellet of incense — and the whole weight of this unit falls upon the distance between the two.