十二門論 觀因緣門第一

The treatise author means to teach emptiness, yet the word he chooses is not principle but gate: “One must enter the meaning of emptiness through twelve gates.”

For Whom the Gate Opens

It does not open for those of sharp faculties—they hear “the exceedingly profound treasury of Dharma belonging to all buddhas of the ten directions and three times.” This gate opens for “sentient beings in the final age who have little merit and dull faculties and, although they seek the scriptures, cannot penetrate them.” The author says, “Out of compassion for such people, I wish to enable them to awaken.” The motive is compassion, not the founding of a doctrine.

Someone objects that the gate is too small: the Buddha’s own words cannot exhaust the subject, much less an unfolding explanation. The reply: “Precisely for this reason, at the outset I said ‘briefly explain.’” A gate need not be as large as the house.

On the Lintel, One Word: Great

The greatness of the Great Vehicle has seven meanings: it is above the two vehicles, can reach buddhahood, is ridden by great persons, extinguishes great suffering and gives great benefit, is ridden by the great beings, reaches the utmost limit of all dharmas, and is itself called measureless and boundless by the Buddha. Not one meaning says that the vehicle possesses some quality called greatness in itself. Each is stated through a relation. The name works this way, and so does the teaching inside the gate. The author reveals the theme: “Its deep meaning, broadly distinguished, is what is called emptiness.”

Four Lines Carved upon the Gate

　　“Dharmas arising from a multitude of conditions are thereby without intrinsic nature;
　　if they lack intrinsic nature, how can one say that these dharmas exist?”

What must await a multitude of conditions in order to arise does not hold its establishment in its own hands. The last line does not ask whether a jar exists; it asks what one means by the word “exists.”

Two Rows Just Inside

One row is outside: clay, wheel, cord, and potter give rise to a jar; seed, earth, water, fire, wind, space, season, and human labor give rise to a sprout. The sprout that seems most to grow by itself receives the longest list of conditions. One row is inside: the twelve links, “each first having its cause and only afterward arising.” The author asks in a single sentence: since inner and outer dharmas alike arise from a multitude of conditions, “are they not thereby without intrinsic nature?”

Two Paths That Try to Go Around the Gate

One says: things do not depend on intrinsic nature but on other-nature. Then “a cow would exist through a horse’s nature, and a horse through a cow’s nature.” The author blocks the way with four characters: “Yet in truth it is not so.”

The other says: not through other-nature, only because of another—as a mat exists because of rushes. If they are one body, the rushes cannot be other; if they are other, the mat cannot exist by virtue of them. Moreover, “the rushes too arise from a multitude of conditions and therefore lack intrinsic nature.” The thing pressed into service as a foundation itself lacks a foundation.

Where Can That “Already” Be Placed?

The author cites a verse from the Seventy Treatise:

　　“Dharmas of dependent arising are in truth non-arising; if one says they do arise,
　　do they exist in a single mind, or do they exist in many minds?”

Placed together in one mind, cause and effect arise simultaneously, although “in every case the cause comes first and the effect afterward.” Distributed among many minds, the earlier mind has ceased, and “a ceased dharma is utterly nonexistent; how could it serve as a cause?” What the question overturns is not continuity, but the premise that the links “already existed beforehand.”

Is There Still Ground Beyond the Gate?

First empty the conditions, then the effect: “Since conditions are empty, dharmas arising from conditions are empty as well.” The effect has nowhere left to retreat.

The self is spoken of in dependence on the aggregates, sense bases, and elements, “just as burning is spoken of because there is something combustible.” When the basis is empty, “without anything combustible, burning cannot be spoken of.” The scripture supplies the clue of dependence: “Because of self there is what belongs to self; without self, there is nothing belonging to self.”

At the end the measure turns toward nirvāṇa. The five aggregates were empty from the beginning—what is extinguished? The self too is empty—who attains? The name non-arising is established in relation to arising: “If arisen dharmas are not established, how can non-arising be established?” Every place to stand has been withdrawn, and the author writes only one sentence: “Therefore conditioned dharmas, unconditioned dharmas, and the self are all empty.”

Here the gate closes. One who has entered need not turn back and cling to the gate.

Twelve Gate Treatise, fascicle one, “First Gate: Examination of Causes and Conditions,” composed by the Bodhisattva Nāgārjuna and translated by Tripiṭaka Master Kumārajīva of the Yao Qin · Taishō T30n1568. Markers such as 〔T30 …〕 at the beginnings of passages give Taishō page, register, and line anchors.

1. Why the Treatise Was Composed

〔T30 0159c06〕The treatise author begins: I shall now briefly explain the meaning of the Mahāyāna—the Great Vehicle.

The questioner asks: What benefit is there in explaining the Mahāyāna?

The respondent says: The Mahāyāna is the exceedingly profound treasury of Dharma belonging to all buddhas of the ten directions and three times. It is taught for those of great merit and sharp faculties. Sentient beings in the final age have little merit and dull faculties. Although they seek out and read the scriptures, they cannot penetrate their meaning. Out of compassion for such people, I wish to enable them to understand and awaken. I also wish to spread and illuminate the Tathāgata’s unsurpassed great Dharma. I therefore explain the meaning of the Mahāyāna in brief.

The questioner asks: The Mahāyāna is measureless and boundless, beyond all calculation. The Buddha’s own words alone cannot exhaust it; how much less can one explain it and unfold its meaning at length?

The respondent says: Precisely for this reason, at the outset I said “briefly explain”—I offer only a concise explanation.

2. Why It Is Called Mahāyāna

The questioner asks: Why is it called Mahāyāna?

The respondent says: The Mahāyāna is above the two vehicles and is therefore called the Great Vehicle.

Again, the buddhas are greatest, and this vehicle can reach them; therefore it is called great.

Again, great persons—the buddhas—ride this vehicle; therefore it is called great.

Again, this vehicle can extinguish the great suffering of sentient beings and bestow great benefit upon them; therefore it is called great.

Again, great beings such as the bodhisattvas Avalokiteśvara, Mahāsthāmaprāpta, Mañjuśrī, and Maitreya all ride this vehicle; therefore it is called great.

Again, because this vehicle can reach the utmost limit and depth of all dharmas, it is called great.

Again, as the Buddha himself says in the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, the meaning of the Mahāyāna is measureless and boundless. For these reasons, it is called great.

3. Its Deep Meaning, Broadly Distinguished, Is Emptiness

Broadly distinguished, its deep meaning is what is called emptiness. One who can penetrate this meaning penetrates the Mahāyāna, completes the six pāramitās, and meets no obstruction. Therefore I shall now explain only this emptiness.

To explain emptiness, one must enter its meaning through twelve gates.

4. The First Gate: Causes and Conditions

The first is the Gate of Causes and Conditions. It states:

　　Dharmas arising from a multitude of conditions are thereby without intrinsic nature;
　　if they lack intrinsic nature, how can one say that these dharmas exist?

5. Inner and Outer Causes and Conditions

Dharmas arising from a multitude of conditions are of two kinds: inner and outer. The multitude of conditions is likewise of two kinds: inner and outer.

Outer causes and conditions are such as these: a lump of clay, wheel, cord, potter, and other factors come together, and so a jar arises; threads, cord, loom, weaver, and other factors come together, and so cloth arises; leveling the ground, setting foundation and beams, and adding rafters, mud, thatch, human labor, and other factors together produce a house; a vessel holding curds, a drill and its turning, human labor, and other factors together produce clarified butter; seed, earth, water, fire, wind, space, season, human labor, and other factors together produce a sprout. One should understand that every other dharma arising from outer conditions is the same.

Inner causes and conditions are the twelve links: ignorance, volitional formations, consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense bases, contact, feeling, craving, clinging, existence, birth, and aging-and-death. Each first has its cause and only afterward arises.

Thus inner and outer dharmas alike arise from a multitude of conditions. Since they arise from a multitude of conditions, are they not thereby without intrinsic nature?

6. Intrinsic Nature, Other-Nature, and Both Together Cannot Be Obtained

〔T30 0160a09〕If a dharma has no intrinsic nature, neither does it have other-nature, nor a nature consisting of self and other together. Why? Because what is called other-nature is spoken of in dependence on an other, yet that other itself has no intrinsic nature.

If one says that a thing exists by virtue of other-nature, then a cow should exist through the nature of a horse, a horse through the nature of a cow, a pear through the nature of a crabapple, and a crabapple through the nature of a pear; everything else should be the same. Yet this plainly is not so.

If one says that it does not exist by virtue of other-nature but exists merely because of another, that too is incorrect. Why? If a mat exists because of rushes, then rushes and mat are one body and the rushes cannot be called other. But if the rushes are other in relation to the mat, then one cannot say the mat exists because of the rushes.

Moreover, the rushes themselves have no intrinsic nature. Why? Because the rushes too arise from a multitude of conditions and therefore lack intrinsic nature. Since they have no intrinsic nature, one cannot say the mat exists by virtue of the nature of the rushes. The mat therefore should not take the rushes as its own substance.

The same is true of jars, clarified butter, and every other dharma arising from outer causes and conditions: sought in this way, they cannot be obtained.

7. Inner Causes and Conditions Are Likewise Unobtainable: The Challenge from the Seventy Treatise

Dharmas arising from inner causes and conditions are likewise unobtainable when sought in this way. The treatise author cites the Seventy Treatise as evidence:

　　Dharmas of dependent arising are in truth non-arising; if one says they do arise,
　　do they exist in a single mind, or do they exist in many minds?

The dharmas of the twelve links of dependent origination are in truth themselves non-arising. If one says they arise, do they exist within a single mind or within many minds?

If they exist within a single mind, cause and effect arise together at the same time. But cause and effect existing simultaneously is untenable. Why? Because in every case a cause comes first and its effect afterward.

If they exist within many minds, the dharmas of the twelve links become individually separate and mutually different. Once the mind shared by the earlier group of links has ceased, what serves as the cause and condition for the later links? A ceased dharma is utterly nonexistent; how could it serve as a cause?

If one says that the dharmas of the twelve links already existed beforehand, neither placing them in one mind nor placing them in many minds is tenable.

8. Because the Multitude of Conditions Is Empty, All Conditioned Dharmas Are Empty

Therefore the multitude of conditions is empty. Since conditions are empty, dharmas arising from conditions are empty as well. One should therefore know that all conditioned dharmas are empty.

9. If Even Conditioned Dharmas Are Empty, How Much More the Self

Even conditioned dharmas are empty; how much more so the self?

It is only because there are such conditioned dharmas as the five aggregates, twelve sense bases, and eighteen elements that a self is spoken of—just as burning is spoken of because there is something combustible.

If the aggregates, sense bases, and elements are empty, no other dharma remains that could be called a self—just as without anything combustible, burning cannot be spoken of.

As a scripture says: “The Buddha told the bhikṣus, ‘Because of self there is what belongs to self; without self, there is nothing belonging to self.’”

10. Because Conditioned Dharmas Are Empty, the Unconditioned Dharma of Nirvāṇa Is Also Empty

Thus, because conditioned dharmas are empty, one should know that the unconditioned dharma of nirvāṇa is also empty.

Why? When these five aggregates cease and no further five aggregates arise, this is called nirvāṇa. Yet the five aggregates are originally empty in themselves. What, then, is extinguished such that it is called nirvāṇa?

Moreover, the self is empty as well. Who, then, attains nirvāṇa?

Furthermore, the non-arising dharma is called nirvāṇa. If arisen dharmas could be established, the non-arising dharma should thereby be established. Yet arisen dharmas are not established—the reasons have already been explained and will be explained again below. Therefore arisen dharmas are not established.

It is in dependence on arisen dharmas that non-arising is named. If arisen dharmas are not established, how can the non-arising dharma be established?

11. Conclusion

Therefore conditioned dharmas, unconditioned dharmas, and the self are all empty.

Readers accustomed to Madhyamaka treatises may be surprised on opening the Twelve Gate Treatise. The Treatise on the Middle begins with eight instances of “not,” establishes the eight negations, and then dismantles going and coming, arising and ceasing, agent, time, and karma chapter by chapter. The first sentence of the Twelve Gate Treatise, by contrast, reads: “I shall now briefly explain the meaning of the Mahāyāna.”

There is no refutation. A treatise author steps forward and says: I am going to explain the meaning of the Great Vehicle for people, and I will do so briefly.

That sentence determines the form of the whole treatise. Nāgārjuna both composes and explains the Twelve Gate Treatise: he establishes the verses, and he also unfolds them in extended prose. No third party steps in to expound the text on the author’s behalf. In the question-and-answer exchanges, the phrases “the author says” and “the reply says” are the treatise author himself speaking. This differs from the Treatise on the Middle, whose extended prose was explained by the Brahmin Qingmu while Nāgārjuna supplied only the verses. Verse and explanation proceed from the same heart. In the opening three rounds of questions and answers, the author makes that heart entirely plain.

1. Why Compose This Treatise? Because Some Seek the Scriptures but Cannot Penetrate Them

The first question is practical: “What benefit is there in explaining the Mahāyāna?” What good does it actually do to explain the Great Vehicle? The author’s answer has two parts. The first names the height of the teaching: “The Mahāyāna is the exceedingly profound treasury of Dharma belonging to all buddhas of the ten directions and three times, taught for those of great merit and sharp faculties.” The second gives the true occasion for composing the treatise: “Sentient beings in the final age have little merit and dull faculties. Although they seek the scriptures, they cannot penetrate them.” Notice the words “although they seek the scriptures.” These are not people who refuse to read. They have read and opened the scriptures, but cannot find a way through. The problem is not laziness; a stretch of road lies between a profound Dharma and dull faculties.

The author therefore says, “Out of compassion for such people, I wish to enable them to awaken.” His first motive is compassion. He is not trying to establish a teaching of his own; he sees people standing outside the gate. Only then comes the second motive: “I also wish to spread and illuminate the Tathāgata’s unsurpassed great Dharma.” When compassion is the occasion, the form will not be a display of erudition. That is also why every example below is something immediately at hand: a jar, cloth, a house, clarified butter, a sprout.

2. “Brief” Is Not Modesty but a Declaration of Form

The second question speaks for the reader: “The Mahāyāna is measureless, boundless, and beyond calculation. Even the Buddha’s words cannot exhaust it, much less an explanation that unfolds and disseminates its meaning.” The Buddha himself cannot finish saying it; can you explain and spread out its meaning?

The author gives a one-sentence answer: “Precisely for this reason, at the outset I said ‘briefly explain.’” Because it cannot be exhausted, the opening says that the explanation will be brief. He does not defend himself by claiming that his treatise is actually complete. He accepts that the subject cannot be exhausted and points out that, from the first sentence, he never intended to exhaust it. “Brief” is not self-deprecation; it declares the treatise’s form. If a treatise claimed to have exhausted the Buddhadharma, readers would stop at the treatise when they reached its end. When it announces itself as a brief explanation, its readers naturally return to the scriptures. The opening sentence has already placed scripture and treatise in their proper relation.

3. Greatness Is Stated in Seven Meanings, All through Relation

The third question asks about the name: “Why is it called Mahāyāna?” The author gives seven reasons in succession, and all seven speak in the same way:

“It is above the two vehicles and therefore is called the Great Vehicle”—great in comparison with the two vehicles. “The buddhas are greatest, and this vehicle can reach them; therefore it is called great”—great in terms of where it can arrive. “Great persons—the buddhas—ride this vehicle; therefore it is called great”—great in terms of those who ride it. “It can extinguish the great suffering of sentient beings and bestow great benefit; therefore it is called great”—great in terms of the benefit it accomplishes. “The bodhisattvas Avalokiteśvara, Mahāsthāmaprāpta, Mañjuśrī, Maitreya, and other great beings ride it; therefore it is called great”—naming the great beings who actually ride this vehicle. “This vehicle can reach the utmost limit of all dharmas; therefore it is called great”—great in terms of the field it fathoms. “As the Buddha himself says in the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, the meaning of the Mahāyāna is measureless and boundless”—returning to the Buddha’s own words.

Not one of the seven says, “The Mahāyāna possesses in itself a quality called greatness.” Every one is stated through relation: above whom, able to reach where, ridden by whom, benefiting whom, fathoming what, and spoken of how by the Buddha.

This anticipates the entire treatise. The Gate of Causes and Conditions below says that all dharmas are established only within relations, never in themselves. The author establishes even the name “Great Vehicle” in just this way.

4. Its Deep Meaning Is Emptiness, and Its Entrances Are Twelve Gates

Having given the seven meanings, the author gathers them into a sentence: “Its deep meaning, broadly distinguished, is what is called emptiness.” The meaning of the Mahāyāna is vast, yet broadly distinguished its depth is one word: emptiness. He then speaks more strongly: “One who can penetrate this meaning penetrates the Mahāyāna, completes the six pāramitās, and meets no obstruction.” Thus, “I shall now explain only emptiness.” This treatise does one thing. How will it explain emptiness? “To explain emptiness, one must enter its meaning through twelve gates.”

Look closely at the word gate. The author does not say twelve principles or twelve arguments; he says twelve gates. A gate is a place through which one enters, not a thing one stores away. The twelve gates are not twelve conclusions but twelve entrances. Once one has entered, the gate has done its work. The first gate is causes and conditions.

5. The Verse That Opens the Gate: What Arises from Conditions Has No Intrinsic Nature

The author establishes a verse:

　　“Dharmas arising from a multitude of conditions are thereby without intrinsic nature;
　　if they lack intrinsic nature, how can one say that these dharmas exist?”

These four short lines are the root of the whole treatise. The first two say that any dharma arising from a multitude of conditions lacks intrinsic nature. Intrinsic nature means a nature able to establish itself without awaiting anything else. Once a dharma must rely on a multitude of conditions to arise, its establishment is no longer in its own hands. Dependence on conditions and intrinsic nature cannot coexist.

The last two lines ask a question: “If they lack intrinsic nature, how can one say that these dharmas exist?” If there is no intrinsic nature, in what sense can one still say, “This dharma exists”?

The question must be read precisely. It does not ask whether a jar is nonexistent. Every example below is a jar, cloth, or house, and the author never says these things cannot hold water, be worn, or be lived in. He asks: when you say “this dharma exists,” do you mean that something can stand on its own? If so, its arising from a multitude of conditions has already canceled that claim.

The verse refutes existence by intrinsic nature, not the functioning of dependent arising.

6. Five Cases of Outer Conditions: Jar, Cloth, House, Clarified Butter, Sprout

Once the verse is established, the author unfolds it. He first makes a twofold division: “Dharmas arising from a multitude of conditions are of two kinds: inner and outer. The multitude of conditions is likewise of two kinds: inner and outer.”

Dharmas are inner and outer, and conditions are inner and outer. This distinction matters. If only external things were refuted below, someone could think, “That may be true of the vessel-world, but not of the twelve links within my mind.” Both sides therefore must be traversed. The author gives five cases of outer conditions, each as a chain of factors:

“A lump of clay, wheel, cord, potter, and other factors come together, and so a jar arises.” A jar requires clay, wheel, cord, and potter; only when the four converge is there a jar. “Threads, cord, loom, weaver, and other factors come together, and so cloth arises.” Cloth requires threads, cord, a loom, and the person weaving. “Leveling the ground, setting foundation and beams, and adding rafters, mud, thatch, human labor, and other factors together produce a house.” A house requires still more: leveled ground, foundation, beams, rafters, mud, thatch, and human effort. “A vessel holding curds, a drill and its turning, human labor, and other factors together produce clarified butter.” Clarified butter requires vessel, churning, and labor. “Seed, earth, water, fire, wind, space, season, human labor, and other factors together produce a sprout.” A sprout requires not only seed but earth, water, fire, wind, space, season, and human effort.

The five are ordered from the most obviously man-made, the jar, to the sprout that most resembles natural self-growth. People are most likely to think that a sprout grows out of a seed by itself, so its conditions receive the longest enumeration: earth, water, fire, wind, space, season, and human labor. A seed never becomes a sprout alone. Having counted them, the author concludes: “One should understand that every other dharma arising from outer conditions is the same.”

7. Inner Conditions: Each of the Twelve Links Has a Prior Cause and Then Arises

After the outer comes the inner. Inner causes and conditions are the twelve links: “ignorance, volitional formations, consciousness, name-and-form, the six sense bases, contact, feeling, craving, clinging, existence, birth, and aging-and-death.”

The author says only one thing about these twelve: “Each first has its cause and only afterward arises.”

Every link first has its cause and then arises. The sentence is short, but it places the twelve links squarely within the verse. Because each must await its preceding cause, each is a dharma arising from a multitude of conditions, and each lacks intrinsic nature. Inner and outer are then joined: “Thus inner and outer dharmas alike arise from a multitude of conditions. Since they arise from a multitude of conditions, are they not thereby without intrinsic nature?”

The final sentence is a rhetorical question: if they all arise from conditions, are they not precisely without intrinsic nature? The first circuit is now complete. What follows protects this meaning, because the opposing side still has something to say.

8. Other-Nature Is Also Absent: A Cow Does Not Exist through a Horse’s Nature

The first objection is that, beyond intrinsic nature, one can still speak of other-nature. The author lists the three possibilities at once: “If a dharma has no intrinsic nature, neither does it have other-nature, nor a nature consisting of self and other together.” Intrinsic nature is absent, other-nature is absent, and self and other combined are absent.

The reason is one sentence: “Because of other-nature, intrinsic nature is absent.” What is called other is established relative to self. Once self has no nature, the other side has nothing on which to depend. The author then poses a harder formulation: “If one says that a thing exists by virtue of other-nature”—if a thing exists through the nature of something else, what follows?

“Then a cow should exist through the nature of a horse, a horse through the nature of a cow, a pear through the nature of a crabapple, and a crabapple through the nature of a pear; everything else should be the same.”

If other-nature is a universal principle, everyone can take someone else’s nature as one’s own. The author concludes in only four characters: “Yet in truth it is not so.” A cow, after all, is not made a cow by a horse. No elaborate reasoning is needed. Push the claim to its consequence, and it cannot stand.

9. Rushes and Mat: Existing Because of Another Does Not Escape

The opponent retreats one step further: “If one says that it does not exist by virtue of other-nature but exists merely because of another.” I do not mean that something uses another’s nature as its own; only that it exists because of something else, as a mat exists because of rushes. The author replies, “That too is incorrect,” and divides the answer into two alternatives.

First: “If a mat exists because of rushes, then rushes and mat are one body and cannot be called other.” If they are one body, the rushes cannot be other; the “other” in “because of another” disappears.

Second: “If the rushes are other in relation to the mat, one cannot say the mat exists because of the rushes.” If you insist that the rushes truly are another thing relative to the mat, then you cannot say the mat exists by virtue of them. What is other remains other; how could it become the substance on which the mat depends?

Both exits are blocked: call them one, and ‘other’ falls away; call them other, and ‘because of’ falls away.

The author does not stop. He adds one more cut, the most important one: “Moreover, the rushes themselves have no intrinsic nature. Why? Because the rushes too arise from a multitude of conditions and therefore lack intrinsic nature.”

The rushes themselves are dependently arisen. Since even they lack intrinsic nature, “one cannot say the mat exists by virtue of the nature of the rushes; therefore the mat should not take the rushes as its substance.”

This cut pushes the problem back one level. You want to use rushes as the mat’s foundation, but the rushes themselves require a foundation. In dependent arising, the search upward for a final foundation never reaches bottom. The author concludes: “The same is true of jars, clarified butter, and every other dharma arising from outer causes and conditions: sought in this way, they cannot be obtained.”

10. The Challenge from the Seventy Treatise: In One Mind or Many?

Having defended the argument concerning outer conditions, the author returns to inner conditions. He says, “Dharmas arising from inner causes and conditions are likewise unobtainable when sought in this way,” and then cites outside testimony: “As the Seventy Treatise says.” This is a verse the author himself brings in:

　　“Dharmas of dependent arising are in truth non-arising; if one says they do arise,
　　do they exist in a single mind, or do they exist in many minds?”

Having cited the verse, the author unfolds its challenge: “The dharmas of the twelve links of dependent origination are in truth themselves non-arising. If one says they arise, do they exist within a single mind or within many minds?”

Take the first alternative: “If they exist within a single mind, cause and effect arise together at the same time.” What is wrong with simultaneity? The author says, “Cause and effect existing simultaneously is untenable. Why? Because in every case a cause comes first and its effect afterward.” If cause and effect are simultaneous, the cause no longer functions as a cause.

Take the second alternative: “If they exist within many minds, the dharmas of the twelve links become individually separate and mutually different.” If they are distributed among many minds, the twelve links become separate and mutually distinct. The question follows: “Once the mind shared by the earlier group of links has ceased, what serves as the cause and condition for the later links?” The author answers, “A ceased dharma is utterly nonexistent; how could it serve as a cause?” Once both alternatives have been traversed, he concludes: “If one says that the dharmas of the twelve links already existed beforehand, they should be found either in one mind or in many minds; neither is tenable.”

Notice where the challenge applies its force. Its premise is “if they already existed beforehand”—if there were already a set of twelve links possessing intrinsic nature. Only under that premise does the question arise of which mind contains them. Whether one answers one mind or many, the reasoning fails. What fails is not continuity but an intrinsic nature presumed already to exist.

11. Since Conditions Are Empty, What Arises from Them Is Empty: All Conditioned Dharmas Are Empty

Having traversed both inner and outer, the author gives his first conclusion:

“Therefore the multitude of conditions is empty. Since conditions are empty, dharmas arising from conditions are empty as well. One should therefore know that all conditioned dharmas are empty.”

The three sentences form one line. First, the multitude of conditions is empty, because each condition is itself dependently arisen—the cut concerning the rushes has already established this. Since conditions are empty, dharmas dependent upon them are naturally empty as well; therefore all conditioned dharmas are empty.

Notice that the sequence moves from conditions to effect, not from effect back to conditions. If one declared only the result empty while leaving conditions unempty, an ultimately real ground would remain on the side of conditions. The author first empties conditions themselves, and only then does the effect have nowhere to retreat.

12. If Even Conditioned Dharmas Are Empty, How Much More the Self: Burning and the Combustible

Once conditioned dharmas are empty, the author immediately asks, “Even conditioned dharmas are empty; how much more so the self?” Why is the self the easier case? He gives the reason: “It is because there are such conditioned dharmas as the five aggregates, twelve sense bases, and eighteen elements that a self is spoken of.”

A self is spoken of because these conditioned dharmas—the five aggregates, twelve sense bases, and eighteen elements—are present. The self is not a separate thing; it is named in dependence on these dharmas.

Then comes this gate’s only simile, and it belongs to the treatise itself: “Just as burning is spoken of because there is something combustible.” Fire is not an isolated thing; it must burn something. Reversing the relation: “If the aggregates, sense bases, and elements are empty, no other dharma remains that could be called a self, just as without anything combustible, burning cannot be spoken of.”

Once what it depends upon is empty, there is nowhere left to speak of a self—just as without anything combustible, burning cannot be spoken of. The author cites a scripture here: “The Buddha told the bhikṣus, ‘Because of self there is what belongs to self; without self, there is nothing belonging to self.’”

The placement of the scriptural quotation is revealing. The author does not quote scripture to prove the conclusion “the self is empty.” What he quotes is the linkage between self and what belongs to self. Scripture supplies the clue of dependence, and the author applies it to the self itself. What exists dependently lacks intrinsic nature—precisely what the opening verse says.

13. Because the Conditioned Is Empty, the Unconditioned Is Empty: Nirvāṇa Is Not One Last Really-Existing Thing

At this point, most readers would think enough has been said. The author does not stop. He turns the same measure toward nirvāṇa:

“Thus, because conditioned dharmas are empty, one should know that the unconditioned dharma of nirvāṇa is also empty.”

This is the deepest passage in the gate and the one most easily missed.

The first reason: “When these five aggregates cease and no further five aggregates arise, this is called nirvāṇa.” Yet “the five aggregates are originally empty in themselves. What, then, is extinguished such that it is called nirvāṇa?” The five aggregates were empty from the beginning; what exactly is extinguished so that one names nirvāṇa?

Extinction can be spoken of only if there is a real thing to be extinguished. Once the five aggregates have been emptied, the “extinction” on which the name nirvāṇa depends has no real entity to support it. The second reason is shorter: “Moreover, the self is empty as well. Who, then, attains nirvāṇa?”

The third reason concerns terminology: “Furthermore, the non-arising dharma is called nirvāṇa. If arisen dharmas could be established, the non-arising dharma should thereby be established. Yet arisen dharmas are not established—the reasons have already been explained and will be explained again below. Therefore arisen dharmas are not established.”

The name non-arising is established in contrast to arising. If arisen dharmas could be established, the non-arising dharma would be established in turn. But arisen dharmas are not established—the author says that the reasons have already been explained and will be explained again. Thus: “It is in dependence on arisen dharmas that non-arising is named. If arisen dharmas are not established, how can the non-arising dharma be established?”

Only because arisen dharmas are posited is the name non-arising established. Once arisen dharmas are not established, the name non-arising has no basis either.

The weight of this passage lies in its refusal to leave a safe place at the end. When conditioned dharmas are empty, one might retreat to the unconditioned; when the unconditioned is empty, one might retreat to the self that attains nirvāṇa; and the self too is empty. The author withdraws all three retreats at once.

This does not negate nirvāṇa. The earlier refutations concerning jars, cloth, and houses never say that a jar cannot hold water. Nor does this passage say that there is no nirvāṇa. It says that nirvāṇa is not a thing that can stand by itself or be grasped in someone’s hand. If it were, it would possess intrinsic nature, and anything possessing intrinsic nature was already refuted by the opening verse.

14. A One-Sentence Conclusion: Conditioned, Unconditioned, and Self Are All Empty

At the end, the author writes only one sentence:

“Therefore conditioned dharmas, unconditioned dharmas, and the self are all empty.”

The gate closes here. It began with “I shall now briefly explain the meaning of the Mahāyāna,” passed through the seven meanings of the Great Vehicle, the verse opening the gate, five outer cases, the inner twelve links, the challenge of other-nature, the refutation using rushes and mat, and the Seventy Treatise’s question of one mind or many, and finally lands on these few words. This is the gate that opens first among the twelve.

What Can a Reader Carry Away from This Gate?

First, distinguish “without intrinsic nature” from “nonexistent.” The author uses jars, cloth, houses, clarified butter, and sprouts throughout—things that function. He does not cancel their use; he cancels their supposed ability to stand on their own.

Second, know where the search for an ultimate foundation leads. The mat depends on rushes; on what do the rushes depend? “The rushes too arise from a multitude of conditions and therefore lack intrinsic nature.” This path has no final floor. Once one sees this, one will not casually point to something halfway along and say, “Here at last is what truly exists.”

Third, notice where the measure turns at the end. “Because conditioned dharmas are empty, one should know that the unconditioned dharma of nirvāṇa is also empty.” The measure does not stop on the side of what it seeks.

Fourth, remember that this is a gate. A gate is used to enter. Once one has entered, one need not cling to it.

Carried Forward: Through the Other Treatises on the Same Axis

The preceding is the meaning of this gate itself. What follows places beside it two illuminations from the other treatises on the same axis. They illuminate but do not belong to this treatise; they are recorded without adjudicating the parallel.

The Treatise on the Middle establishes the eight negations at its opening:

　　“Neither arising nor ceasing, neither permanence nor annihilation;
　　neither identity nor difference, neither coming nor going.”

That treatise begins from exclusion, blocking all eight grasped marks at once. This gate begins from a multitude of conditions, counting jar, cloth, house, clarified butter, and sprout one by one so that dependence on conditions discloses itself. One negates and the other displays, yet they enter the same meaning.

As for the twelve links, the “Examination of the Twelve Links of Dependent Origination” in the Treatise on the Middle counts them forward in sequence—“sentient beings, obscured by ignorance, produce the three formations for a later life”—continues through grief, lamentation, suffering, and distress, then gathers the sequence back in reverse, and finally attributes the teaching to what “is extensively explained in the Abhidharma and sūtras.” That chapter explains how the twelve links accumulate and how they rightly cease. This gate takes a different angle: if the twelve links already possessed intrinsic nature, should they be placed within one mind or within many? The links examined are the same; the question asked is different.

Read along the same axis, each illumination remains in its own place. The meaning of this gate remains governed by its own extended prose.