大智度論 習相應品之一Dazhidulun — Mahāprajñāpāramitā-upadeśa · Practising in Accord, Part 1 of 3

Practising in Accord, Part One: The Emptiness of Beings and the Emptiness of Dharmas Spoken Together, and Why the Bodhisattva’s Wisdom Surpasses All of the Two Vehicles

What Is Being Asked

At its very opening this part runs into a pressing question: the chapters before have spoken of emptiness again and again—why speak of it once more here? The sūtra first lays down the keynote: the bodhisattva, the Buddha, prajñā, and even the five aggregates are only names; even the permanent “self,” together with its sixteen alternative names, is ultimately unfindable. Since persons and dharmas are both empty, and yet what follows says 「除佛智慧，過一切聲聞、辟支佛上」 tr. "except for the Buddha’s wisdom, it surpasses all śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas," two tensions lie hidden here. First, if all is empty, how does the emptiness spoken again differ from the emptiness spoken before? Second, Śāriputra goes on to challenge it head-on: since the wisdom of all the sages, up to the Buddha, is alike non-arising, empty in nature, and not contrary one to another, with no difference in substance and nature, on what ground can it be said that a bodhisattva’s wisdom of a single day surpasses the two vehicles? What Part One of Practising in Accord sets out to answer is precisely how, without shaking ultimate emptiness, one can both distinguish clearly the emptiness of beings from the emptiness of dharmas and establish where the real superiority of the bodhisattva’s wisdom over the two vehicles lies.

Beneath this lie several finer questions, which this part accounts for one by one as it advances section by section. Why are the sixteen alternative names of the “self” only a single name set up according to circumstance? Why does the Buddha choose for his simile Śāriputra, foremost in wisdom, and Maudgalyāyana, foremost in the supernormal power of travel, and why does he make the simile out of multitude, enlarging its field to worlds in the ten directions as many as the sands of the Ganges? How can ‘wisdom is non-arising and empty in nature’ stand together, without contradiction, with wisdom’s moving along with the mind? The wisdoms of all the worthies and sages alike take the four truths as object—why single out only the truth of cessation? The Buddha knows full well that the two vehicles cannot liberate beings—why then does he question Śāriputra three times over? Only when these questions have been asked through, one by one, does the weight of the sentence ‘in one day the bodhisattva surpasses the two vehicles’ come to land.

Passage by Passage

1. The “emptiness” spoken again—the emptiness of dharmas and the emptiness of beings spoken together. It must first be asked: since emptiness was already spoken of at the end of the second chapter, why is it spoken of again here? The treatise-author answers decisively: 「非重說也」 tr. "this is not a repetition"—it is only that the emptiness spoken of has moved to another layer: 「上多說法空，今雜說法空、眾生空」 tr. "above, mostly the emptiness of dharmas was spoken of; now the emptiness of dharmas and the emptiness of beings are spoken of together." This shift is of the utmost importance. A practitioner contemplates all outer dharmas as entirely empty and without anything, yet often secretly keeps back ‘a person who knows emptiness’ as not empty; the treatise points straight at this hidden corner and says further, 「觀者亦空」 tr. "the contemplator too is empty"—emptying out, together with the rest, the very mind that contemplates. This emptiness of beings is no new meaning; in the śrāvaka Dharma it was already much spoken of: “all the Buddha’s disciples know that among all dharmas there is no self.” The treatise also records a piece of the history of the teaching: in the five hundred years after the Buddha’s passing into extinction, students split into two groups—one believed in the emptiness of dharmas; the other believed only in the emptiness of beings and held that “the five aggregates are definitely existent dharmas,” taking the “self” that undergoes the five aggregates to be empty, but the five aggregates themselves not empty. It is precisely to counter the one-sided attachment of this latter group that 「佛說眾生空以況法空」 tr. "the Buddha spoke of the emptiness of beings in order to illustrate the emptiness of dharmas"—using the emptiness of beings, already acknowledged, to bring out by comparison the emptiness of dharmas, which is hard to believe. Asked further about the difference of ease and difficulty—why make such a comparison?—the answer is 「我空易知，法空難見」 tr. "the emptiness of self is easy to know; the emptiness of dharmas is hard to see." The “self,” sought through the five kinds of sense-cognition, is not to be found in the first place; it is only by the force of the view of self that it is recollected, imagined, and forcibly set up. On the side of the emptiness of dharmas, “form can be seen by the eye, sound can be heard by the ear,” and they seem solidly real, so their emptiness is hard to know. Both are “empty within the prajñāpāramitā,” as explained in detail under the meaning of “the eighteen emptinesses”—here the treatise-author deliberately hangs a link, joining the two emptinesses before us back to the full framework of prajñā’s breaking of attachment, and the reader should not skip over this signpost. In short, the speaking again is not an old saying repeated, but the pushing of contemplative practice forward from ‘breaking the dharmas contemplated’ to ‘not keeping even the mind that contemplates.’

2. The sixteen alternative names—one provisional name set up according to circumstance. Here a misreading must first be guarded against: taking these sixteen names, from ‘self, being, life-span holder’ to ‘knower, seer,’ as sixteen different things. The treatise asks whether these names “are one thing, or each different,” and answers 「皆是一我，但以隨事為異」 tr. "all are one self, differing only according to circumstance"—they are only one and the same provisional name, changing its appellation with different features of circumstance. The treatise glosses them one by one without tiring, precisely to show this. Because the thought of I and mine arises in the five aggregates, it is called “self”; because it is born from the coming together of the five aggregates, it is called “being”; because the life faculty is accomplished, it is called “life-span holder” and “life-holder”; because it can give rise to many affairs, as a father begets a son, it is called “begetter”; because it grows through the causes and conditions of milk and nursing, clothing and food, it is called “nourished one”; because the dharmas of the five aggregates, the twelve sense-fields, and the eighteen elements have their numbers, it is called “one of the many numbers”; because it can practise human dharmas, it is called “person”; because hands and feet can make and do, it is called “doer”; because “its strength can put others to work,” it is called “causer of doing”; because it “can create karma of offence and merit for later lives,” it is called “initiator”; because it “causes others to initiate karma of offence and merit for later lives,” it is called “causer of initiating”; because “in a later body it receives the fruit and retribution of offence and merit,” it is called “receiver”; because it “causes others to receive suffering and pleasure,” it is called “causer of receiving”; because the eye beholds form, it is called “seer”; because the five consciousnesses cognise, it is called “knower.” The sixteen names are counted out one by one, and the intent is not to set up a table of names and marks but precisely to show the reverse: the more finely the names are divided, the more plainly it is seen that not one name is real—this “soul” pointed to by all these names 「十方三世諸佛及諸賢聖求之不可得」 tr. "the buddhas of the ten directions and the three times and all the worthies and sages seek, and cannot find"; it is only recollection, imagining, and discrimination, “forcibly given its names.” One question further: does this spirit have only these sixteen names, or are there other names besides? The answer is 「略說則十六，廣說則無量」 tr. "stated briefly, sixteen; stated at length, immeasurable"—arising according to circumstance, like the distinctions of official ranks and titles, of crafts and skills, of going forth and attaining the path, and so on, the names are endless; and yet “because all arise from the coming together of causes and conditions they have no self-nature, and because they have no self-nature they are ultimately empty.” The more the names, the more their hollowness shows—and this leads precisely to the pivotal sentence of the section: 「生空故法空，法空故生亦空」 tr. "because beings are empty, dharmas are empty; because dharmas are empty, beings too are empty"—the two emptinesses are the outside and inside of each other, not two separate stages one after the other, nor two separate matters.

3. Where the bodhisattva’s wisdom surpasses the two vehicles—two causes and conditions and five pairs of dharmas. Taking up the sūtra’s “except for the Buddha’s wisdom, it surpasses all śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas” and “because of the emptiness of the unfindable,” it must first be asked: where exactly does this ‘surpassing’ surpass—is it higher in substance and nature, or is there some other reality to it? The treatise answers with two causes and conditions. The first: 「以空知一切法空，亦不見是空」 tr. "by emptiness it knows all dharmas to be empty, and does not see this emptiness either"—not only does it illuminate dharmas as empty, it does not keep even this emptiness: “emptiness and non-emptiness are equal, one, not different,” emptiness and non-emptiness level as one. The second: it is with this wisdom “wishing to liberate all beings and bring them to nirvāṇa.” The wisdom of the two vehicles can only contemplate the emptiness of dharmas; it 「不能觀世間、涅槃為一」 tr. "cannot contemplate the world and nirvāṇa as one." The treatise sets up a simile of leaving a prison, drawing this distinction with great clarity: in leaving the prison alike, one person “merely bores through the wall and gets out, freeing only himself,” another “breaks the prison and smashes the locks, and having freed himself, rescues the multitude as well”—the former illustrates the two vehicles’ seeking only to finish their own affair, the latter the bodhisattva’s liberating himself and liberating others as well. The face of the simile is boring through the wall and breaking the prison; what it illustrates is two kinds of departure, benefiting oneself and benefiting others; and its boundary lies here—it is not that the two vehicles’ getting out is not real, but that they get out without rescuing others as well, and so it is not complete. The treatise further piles up five pairs of dharmas that the bodhisattva enters, adorning his wisdom layer upon layer: first, “great compassion” and “prajñāpāramitā”; second, “the pratyutpanna samādhi” and “skilful means”; third, “always abiding in meditative concentration” and “being able to penetrate the nature of dharmas”; fourth, “being able to undergo suffering in place of all beings” and “giving up all pleasure oneself”; fifth, “a mind of kindness, without enmity and without anger” and “even toward the merits of all the buddhas, the mind is not attached.” Each of these five pairs holds compassion and wisdom together, with self and other unseparated: “because wisdom is adorned with such various merits, it surpasses.” It can be seen that the standard for judging ‘surpassing’ never lies in whose wisdom is higher in substance and nature, but in whether one can both illuminate emptiness and not be attached to emptiness, both liberate oneself and liberate others.

4. Why a person of keen faculties is used for the simile. As the treatise’s explanation is about to take up the simile, it first raises an objection of its own: people of dull faculties can be led on by similes, but “Śāriputra’s wisdom is of keen faculty—why make a simile?” The answer is 「不必以鈍根為譬喻」 tr. "similes are not necessarily made for the dull of faculty"—a simile is used not because the listener is dull, but because a simile is “for adorning discussion and making people believe and hold to it,” using things seen by the five senses to illustrate the deep principle known by the mind-consciousness, so that people are brought to awakening. The treatise sets down two similes in a row to make this intention clear. First, as in “climbing a tower, with a ladder it is easy to go up”—the ladder illustrates the simile, the tower the deep meaning hard to climb; with a simile it is easy to enter. Second, as “bitter medicine” is hard to take, but “with honey added” goes down easily—the honey illustrates the pleasingness of the simile, the bitter medicine the principle hard to believe; beings are “attached to worldly pleasure” and take no delight in hearing of nirvāṇa, so what is hard to receive must be wrapped in what is easy to receive. Its boundary must be kept in mind through the treatise’s next sentence: 「舍利弗於聲聞中智慧第一，比諸佛菩薩未有現焉」 tr. "Śāriputra is foremost in wisdom among the śrāvakas; compared with the buddhas and bodhisattvas, it does not even show"—among the śrāvakas Śāriputra is indeed foremost in wisdom, but once set against the buddhas and bodhisattvas, that foremostness no longer shows at all. So the use of him in the simile below does not mean he is dull; it precisely borrows the keenest faculty among the śrāvakas as a foil: if even the keenest falls short, the rest need not be spoken of.

5. The gloss on Jambudvīpa, and the four things: bamboo, hemp, rice, and reeds. This section is mostly glosses on names and terms, yet it must not be skipped as a whole, for only when the field of the simile is made solid does the point of the simile have somewhere to rest. First the name Jambudvīpa is glossed: “jambu” is the name of a tree; its forest is luxuriant, and this tree is the largest in the forest; “dvīpa” means continent; in the forest of this continent there is a river, and the gold sand at the river’s bottom is called “jambūnada gold”; because it has jambu trees it is called the jambu continent, and this continent is further “surrounded by five hundred small continents,” all together called Jambudvīpa. With the meaning of the name made clear, the question comes: the Buddha’s disciples are so many—why single out Śāriputra and Maudgalyāyana filling Jambudvīpa for the simile? The treatise answers with three reasons. First, these two are the utmost of the assembly—“foremost in wisdom is Śāriputra, foremost in the supernormal power of travel is Maudgalyāyana”—and moreover they are “great within the Buddha-dharma and great in outside teachings too,” whereas Pūrṇa and others, though great within the Buddha-dharma, fall short in outside teachings. Second, these two “are always in the great assembly, helping the Buddha spread his teaching and defeating those of the outside paths,” their merit especially outstanding. Third, they are chosen for their power to gather in the whole: 「若說舍利弗則攝一切智慧人，若說目揵連則攝一切禪定人」 tr. "to speak of Śāriputra gathers in all people of wisdom; to speak of Maudgalyāyana gathers in all people of meditative concentration"—naming these two gathers in fully the two kinds of learners, those of wisdom and those of concentration. As for why the four things bamboo, hemp, rice, and reeds are taken, the treatise further divides similes into two kinds: 「一者、假以為喻，二者、實事為喻」 tr. "first, a simile by supposition; second, a simile from actual fact." Here it is a “simile by supposition” (supposed, not something that actually exists); and the reason it takes these four and not other things is that the four “grow in clumps, thick and dense,” and are moreover of many kinds, best fitted to depict the aspect of ‘multitude.’ With the three matters—the names and terms, the choice of persons, and the images of things—accounted for one by one, only then does the simile stand firm: that Śāriputras and Maudgalyāyanas filling Jambudvīpa, all taken together, do not reach one hundredth of the bodhisattva.

6. Why it says “not one hundredth, not one thousandth,” and does not stop at “beyond the reach of calculation.” This question is very fine, yet it reveals the grain of Mahāyāna speech. Question: since “beyond the reach of calculation and simile” is already a final word, why also say, layer upon layer, “not one hundredth, not one thousandth”? The treatise answers that “beyond the reach of calculation and simile” is precisely 「是其極語」 tr. "its utmost word"—a word that takes speech to its very summit. The treatise uses a simile of punishment to make clear what an utmost word is: “as when a person has a grave offence, first he is beaten, bound, and put to torment, and only then is he killed”—first to go through every torment and only at the last be killed is to push punishment to its extreme; the face of the simile is the extreme of punishment, what it illustrates is the extreme of the difference in measure, and both take the sense of ‘pushed to where nothing further can be added.’ The treatise further points out the difference between the ways of speaking of the two vehicles: in the śrāvaka Dharma the measuring usually stops at “not one sixteenth,” whereas the Mahāyāna Dharma says outright, “up to: beyond the reach of calculation and simile.” This distinction itself shows that the difference in wisdom spoken of in the Mahāyāna cannot be framed within the limited multiples of the śrāvakas.

7. Why “multitude is made the simile”—up to worlds in the ten directions as many as the sands of the Ganges. The sūtra enlarges the field of the simile from Śāriputras and Maudgalyāyanas filling Jambudvīpa to their filling the three-thousand great-thousand world, and even to their filling worlds in the ten directions as many as the sands of the Ganges. The treatise first sets down a sentence, 「此義同上閻浮提，但以多為異」 tr. "this meaning is the same as the Jambudvīpa above; it differs only in multitude," and at once asks: these people, though many, do not differ in wisdom—“why make multitude the simile?” In the answer the treatise-author refutes two mistaken reckonings in succession. The first: some think “the few have no strength; the many have strength”—as “when water is little, its force too is little,” and again as “a man of extreme strength cannot be subdued by a small band of little strength, but when a great army attacks him he submits”—supposing that many people can therefore be a match. The second: some further think that a single Śāriputra’s wisdom is small and cannot compare with a bodhisattva’s, but that many might catch up; it is precisely to refute this second reckoning that the Buddha says “though many, they do not reach,” and so deliberately makes multitude the simile: however many they are, even as many as the worlds of the sands of the Ganges in the ten directions, still they do not reach. The treatise further nails down this meaning with three similes: 「一切草木力不如火」 tr. "the strength of all grasses and trees is not equal to fire," 「一切諸明勢不及日」 tr. "the force of all lights does not reach the sun," 「十方世界諸山，不如一金剛珠」 tr. "the mountains of the worlds of the ten directions are not equal to a single vajra jewel"—grasses and trees, however many, are no match for one fire; lights, however broad, are no match for one sun; mountains, however great, are no match for one jewel; what they all illustrate is that more or less in quantity is no match for excellence in quality. Why does the bodhisattva’s wisdom have this excellence? The treatise answers, 「菩薩智慧是一切諸佛法本，能令一切眾生離苦得樂」 tr. "the bodhisattva’s wisdom is the root of all the buddhas’ dharmas, and can bring all beings to leave suffering and attain happiness"—it is that from which the buddhas’ dharmas come forth, and so it cannot be weighed by quantity. Then three similes close the matter, all taking the momentum of ‘already surpassing before accomplishment’: as the chick of the kalaviṅka bird, though not yet out of its shell, “has a voice surpassing all other birds,” illustrating that the bodhisattva, though he has not yet broken the shell of ignorance, already surpasses the two vehicles; as the crown prince of a wheel-turning sage king, “though not yet accomplished, surpasses all kings in fortune, majesty, and virtue,” illustrating that the bodhisattva, though not yet a buddha, already surpasses the two vehicles; for the bodhisattva “through immeasurable asaṃkhyeya kalpas gathers immeasurable wisdom, merit, and virtue,” so that although not yet a buddha he already exceeds the two vehicles—how much more once he has become a buddha.

8. One day’s cultivation of wisdom surpasses the two vehicles—turning from the general mark to the particular mark. The sūtra further says, “one day of cultivating wisdom goes beyond all śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas,” and the treatise at once asks: it was already said before, “except for the Buddha’s wisdom, it surpasses all śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas”—why say it again here? The answer is “this is not a repetition”: 「上總相說，今別相說」 tr. "above it was said in terms of the general mark; now it is said in terms of the particular mark." This distinction of general and particular must be clearly discerned. Before, it was said in terms of the general mark—stating broadly that none of the two vehicles reaches the bodhisattva; here it is said in terms of the particular mark—bringing the gap down to its most extreme point, pointing out only that they do not reach even the bodhisattva’s “wisdom of one day,” how much less what he cultivates over thousands and myriads of years. The former sets up the overall picture, the latter presses to the finest point—this is pressing forward layer by layer, not repetition. If the reader takes the particular mark as a restatement of the general mark, he misses the sūtra’s intent of passing from coarse to fine and tightening step by step.

9. The question of the non-difference of all wisdoms—the same in substance, different in function. Śāriputra raises the challenge head-on: the wisdom of the srota-āpanna up to that of the Buddha is “without difference, not contrary one to another, non-arising, empty in nature”; since there is no difference, why say that the bodhisattva’s wisdom of one day can surpass the two vehicles? In this question one must first recognise where the question is aimed. The treatise asks why Śāriputra now asks this, and answers that he “does not ask about the power of wisdom to liberate beings”; he asks only whether the wisdom of the Buddha and of the six sons differs in substance and nature at the level of Dharma—what Śāriputra asks about is the layer of substance and nature, not the layer of function. Why is it said that there is no difference in substance and nature? The treatise lists three sentences of a shared object: the wisdom of all the worthies and sages “is all wisdom of the real mark of all dharmas,” “is all wisdom of the four truths and the thirty-seven limbs of the path,” “is all wisdom that leaves the three realms, enters the three gates of liberation, and accomplishes the fruits of the three vehicles”—sharing the same object and the same destination, and therefore said to have no difference. The treatise further confirms this with the features of practice and realisation: as the srota-āpanna extinguishes the fetters with undefiled knowledge and attains the fruit, and so on up to the Buddha likewise, all alike use the two kinds of liberation-fruit, “conditioned liberation and unconditioned liberation,” up to: “as the Buddha enters nirvāṇa, so the srota-āpanna, at the very slowest, takes no more than seven lives”—slow and fast differ, yet the destination is one. All of this is “the same matter, the same object, the same practice, the same fruit and retribution,” and therefore “not contrary one to another” is said; the reason for it is “because non-arising and empty in nature.” On this layer the treatise-author frankly concedes: spoken of in terms of the mark of quiescent extinction of substance and nature, all wisdoms are indeed without difference—Śāriputra was not wrong to ask. The difficulty lies only here: what is without difference is the substance, whereas the Buddha’s answer, ‘in one day surpassing,’ lies in another gate of meaning. The same in substance and different in function, the two do not obstruct each other—and this is exactly what the text below will peel out layer by layer.

10. How wisdom’s being “non-arising, empty in nature” coexists with wisdom’s moving along with the mind. Here there is another question, one that most displays the treatise-author’s precision. Someone objects: wisdom arises only by “breaking ignorance and gathering all wholesome dharmas”; it is a conditioned dharma, “associated with the mind, arising together with the mind, moving along with the mind”—how can it be called “non-arising, empty in nature,” and said to be “without difference”? The answer divides into two meanings. First, 「智慧緣滅諦」 tr. "wisdom takes the truth of cessation as its object," and therefore “non-arising” is said—wisdom takes quiescent extinction as its object, and in terms of that object it is non-arising; “because it comes together from causes and conditions, it has no self-nature”—this is called “empty in nature,” said in terms of its dependent arising without self-nature. The second is especially fine: 「智慧隨緣得名」 tr. "wisdom gets its name according to its object," as “the eye, taking form as object, gives rise to eye-consciousness, which is called either eye-consciousness or form-consciousness”—one and the same consciousness is called eye-consciousness after the faculty on which it depends and form-consciousness after the object it takes; the name turns with its conditions, and the substance has no fixity. Wisdom is likewise: “although it is a dharma made by the coming together of causes and conditions, because its object is non-arising and empty in nature, it is called” non-arising and empty in nature. It can be seen that ‘non-arising and empty in nature’ and wisdom’s moving along with the mind are not only not contrary, but are precisely two sides of one matter: because it follows conditions it has its features of activity; because its object is originally empty it is said to be non-arising. This simile of the eye taking form as object is the most essential move in the whole part’s distinguishing of ‘conditioned and yet empty,’ and must not be passed over.

11. All wisdoms alike take the four truths as object—why speak only of the truth of cessation? Following on from the words “wisdom takes the truth of cessation as its object” above, a doubt must be resolved: the wisdoms of all the worthies and sages arise taking the four truths as object—“why speak only of the truth of cessation?” The treatise answers, 「四諦中滅諦為上」 tr. "among the four truths, the truth of cessation is highest." Why is it highest? 「是三諦皆屬滅諦故」 tr. "because these three truths all belong to the truth of cessation"—the three truths of suffering, origination, and the path all return and tend in the end toward cessation. The treatise uses a simile of a banquet: 「譬如人請天子併食群臣，亦名供養天子」 tr. "as when someone invites the Son of Heaven and feeds the ministers along with him, this too is called making offering to the Son of Heaven"—the one really invited is the Son of Heaven, the ministers eat alongside, and the whole is called making offering to the Son of Heaven. The face of the simile is feeding the ministers along with him and calling it offering to the Son of Heaven; what it illustrates is that the three truths follow the truth of cessation, and naming the truth of cessation gathers in the three truths; its point is ‘name the highest, and the rest are gathered in along with it.’ The treatise further assigns them clearly: on the side of the truth of cessation it establishes the meaning of “non-arising,” and on the side of the other three truths the meaning of “empty in nature”—each of the two names has its own place. At the end the treatise records a different explanation: “some say: these wisdoms by their nature are naturally non-arising, by their nature empty,” its ground being “because all dharmas come from the coming together of causes and conditions they have no self-nature; because they have no self-nature, they do not arise.” This speaks generally, in terms of dependent arising, of all dharmas as originally non-arising, taking a different route from the preceding account, which speaks specifically in terms of the truth of cessation; the treatise merely records both together to broaden the meaning, without judging which is the settled standard.

12. Delusion and wisdom enter the ocean as one flavour—the proportion of ‘no difference.’ Following on from ‘non-arising, empty in nature, without difference,’ a perilous objection is at once forced out: if so, then “wisdom and delusion are without difference”? If this step is left vague, one falls into denying cause and effect. The treatise answers with proportion: 「諸法如，入法性中無有別異」 tr. "the suchness of all dharmas: within entry into the nature of dharmas there is no difference"—it is on the ultimate layer of entering the nature of dharmas that no difference is said, not a levelling of good and evil on the layer of phenomenal features. The treatise sets down three similes in a row to make this clear. First, “as fires are each different, yet the mark of their extinction is not different”—the burning features of many fires differ, but their mark of quiescent extinction is one; this illustrates that delusion and wisdom differ in their affairs yet are alike quiescent in the real mark. Second, “as the many rivers and ten thousand streams, each of different colour and different taste, entering the great ocean become alike of one taste and one name”—the rivers and streams, entering the ocean, lose their separate colours and tastes and become one taste together; this illustrates that delusion and wisdom, entering prajñā, return alike to one flavour. Third, “as the five colours, drawing near Mount Sumeru, lose their own colour and all become alike the colour of gold”—the five colours near Sumeru are reflected into gold; this illustrates that inner and outer dharmas, entering prajñā, “all become one flavour.” The three similes show one and the same thing: ‘no difference’ is said in terms of the place of ‘entering,’ and the reason for it is “because the mark of prajñāpāramitā is ultimately pure.” The treatise goes one move further: 「愚癡實相即是智慧；若分別著此智慧即是愚癡」 tr. "the real mark of delusion is itself wisdom; if one discriminates and is attached to this wisdom, it is itself delusion"—the real mark of delusion is originally wisdom, and conversely, if one gives rise to discrimination and attachment toward wisdom, wisdom that very moment becomes delusion. And it points out that this has stages: 「初入佛法，是癡、是慧；轉後深入，癡、慧無異」 tr. "on first entering the Buddha-dharma, this is delusion, this is wisdom; turning later to enter deeply, delusion and wisdom are not different." The beginner must distinguish delusion and wisdom in order to establish what to take up and what to reject; for one who has entered deeply, delusion and wisdom enter the real mark together and are without difference. At the end a sentence closes Śāriputra’s question: all these many wisdoms are “without difference, not contrary one to another, non-arising, empty in nature, and so there is no fault”—to speak of no difference in substance and nature is no error; as for superiority in function, that is another gate, which awaits the counter-questions below to bring it out.

13. The four kinds of discourse, and why the Buddha uses counter-questioning. The Buddha does not answer Śāriputra directly, but asks back whether the two vehicles have the thought, “with the wisdom of my practice of the path I shall benefit all beings; I shall know all dharmas with the omniscience of all kinds and liberate all beings,” and Śāriputra himself answers, “No.” This counter-question itself has a method that can be spoken of. The treatise first lists four kinds of discourse—“the definite,” “the analytical,” “the counter-question,” and “the set-aside”—and gives an example of each; the reader must recognise each kind clearly in order to know into which of them the Buddha’s answer here falls. “The definite” is the kind that pronounces a settled judgement directly, with nothing to discriminate: such as “among beings the World-Honored One is foremost,” “among all dharmas there is no self,” “the world is not to be delighted in,” “nirvāṇa is peaceful and quiescent,” “the causes and conditions of karma are not lost”—each pronounced at a single word. “The analytical” is the kind that must be answered by discriminating according to the situation, and the treatise gives two examples. One: Prince Fearless asked, “can the Buddha speak words that make others angry?” The Buddha said this should be answered with discrimination, and used as a simile the prince’s own child swallowing a potsherd or pebble: the father, loving his child deeply, on seeing him swallow a stone “first teaches him to spit it out”; if he does not, he seizes the child’s ear and gouges into his mouth, not letting go even if it draws blood, precisely because “his pity is deep,” making the child hurt for a moment so that afterwards he is safe; the Buddha’s admonishing beings with bitter words, making them angry for a time so that afterwards they are at peace, follows the same principle. Two: the five bhikṣus asked, “does one attain the path by enjoying pleasure?” and the Buddha answered, “not necessarily”—there are those who undergo suffering and incur offence, those who undergo suffering and gain happiness; there are those who enjoy pleasure and incur offence, those who enjoy pleasure and gain merit; suffering and pleasure do not correspond fixedly with gain and loss. “The counter-question” is to “answer by turning back what was asked”; the treatise cites the Buddha asking a bhikṣu, “is form permanent or impermanent?”—and if impermanent, is it suffering or not; and if suffering, can it be held as I and mine or not—questioning back step by step, making the bhikṣu answer for himself and awaken for himself to the five aggregates’ not being self. “The set-aside” is keeping a question aside and not answering it, as with “the fourteen difficult questions” (the world is permanent, the world is impermanent, the world has an end, the world has no end, and so on), which the Buddha sets aside and does not answer. With the four kinds of discourse made clear, the treatise at once points out what the Buddha uses here: 「今佛以反問論答舍利弗」 tr. "now the Buddha answers Śāriputra with the counter-question," because “Śāriputra’s wisdom had not yet awakened to the matter; the Buddha asked back about the root of the matter so that he might understand”—it is not that the Buddha could not say it directly, but that counter-questioning is better able to make Śāriputra realise the matter for himself. Only by recognising that this is the counter-question and not the definite will one avoid mistaking the “No” in Śāriputra’s mouth for the Buddha’s settled judgement.

14. Path-wisdom, the wisdom of the kinds of paths, the omniscience of all kinds, and the skilful means of liberating beings. With the counter-question made clear, the treatise takes the opportunity to sort out a set of related names and numbers, and the reader must discern their positions one by one. “The wisdom by which the bodhisattva liberates beings is called” “path-wisdom”—the wisdom by which the bodhisattva, through various causes and conditions, brings beings into the path; this is its basic meaning. The treatise cites the judgement of a later chapter to fix the coordinates of the three: 「薩婆若慧是聲聞辟支佛事，一切種智慧是諸佛事，道種慧是菩薩事」 tr. "sarvajñā wisdom is the affair of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas; the wisdom of the omniscience of all kinds is the affair of the buddhas; the wisdom of the kinds of paths is the affair of bodhisattvas"—sarvajñā (omniscience in terms of the general mark) belongs to the affair of the two vehicles; the omniscience of all kinds (illuminating the particular marks exhaustively) belongs to the affair of the buddhas; the wisdom of the kinds of paths (the various wisdoms that lead the many into the path) belongs to the affair of bodhisattvas. The treatise also glosses each name further: “the eight noble path-factors are the real path,” and by these to bring beings into the path through various causes and conditions is “path-wisdom”; to bring beings to abide securely within the path is “benefiting” the three lineages—the śrāvaka lineage, the pratyekabuddha lineage, and the buddha lineage; as for “wisdom of all, with nothing it does not attain—this is called” “all kinds”: “whether conditioned or unconditioned, it is known with the omniscience of all kinds”—only what illuminates the conditioned and the unconditioned exhaustively, with nothing left out, is called the omniscience of all kinds. Once these three names are distinguished, the thought mentioned before, ‘with the omniscience of all kinds to liberate all beings,’ has something to rest on. The treatise further sets out the sequence of skilful means for liberating all beings: first to liberate them by the path of the three vehicles—“either the Great Vehicle, or the śrāvaka vehicle, or the pratyekabuddha vehicle”; if they do not enter the three vehicles, then “to teach them to cultivate merit,” so that they receive the wealth and happiness of humans and gods; if they cannot cultivate merit, then to benefit them in this present life with “clothing, food, bedding,” and so on; and if even this cannot be had, “one should benefit them with a mind of kindness and compassion.” Yielding step by step, with not a single being abandoned—this alone is the real practice of the bodhisattva’s liberating all, and it is exactly where the two vehicles do not form the thought.

15. Why the Buddha questions three times—the gates of meaning differ, and it is not repetition. The Buddha questions three times in a row: do the two vehicles have the thought, ‘I shall attain awakening and liberate beings into nirvāṇa without remainder’? Do they have the thought, ‘I shall practise the six perfections, bring beings to accomplishment, adorn the world, and be complete in the ten powers and so on’? Śāriputra answers each time, “No.” Here a general doubt must first be guarded against: since the Buddha knows full well that the two vehicles cannot act for beings, “why does he ask?” The treatise answers: “he wished Śāriputra to say with his own mouth” that “the śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas are not equal to the bodhisattvas”—the essential point is to make Śāriputra say it with his own mouth, for his own confirmation carries more force than the Buddha’s saying it directly. And the three questions in a row are not repetition either; the treatise explains their difference. The reason the Buddha asks again after the first is that Śāriputra “wished, on the ground that the srota-āpanna attains the same liberation, to make him equal to the buddhas and bodhisattvas”; the treatise rebukes this with the simile of the space in a pore being equal to empty space—the space inside a pore and the space of the great void share a name but differ in measure as heaven from earth, illustrating that the liberation of the two vehicles and the liberation of buddhas and bodhisattvas cannot be regarded as equal; therefore the Buddha “questions him again on the matter.” Moreover, 「雖同一事，義門各異」 tr. "though it is the same matter, the gates of meaning each differ": the first question was about wisdom for the sake of all beings; the later one asks whether they have the thought of attaining awakening and bringing beings to nirvāṇa without remainder—where the question aims is pushed ever deeper; as for the meaning of “nirvāṇa without remainder,” the treatise notes, “the meaning is as explained before,” linking back to the earlier text without repeating it. The treatise also adds a final word of measure: “not even one śrāvaka or pratyekabuddha forms this thought, how much less all of them”—if even one does not give rise to this thought, what need is there to speak of all the two vehicles? The third question further turns from brief to broad: “before, it was stated briefly”—“I shall attain anuttarā samyaksaṃbodhi” (unsurpassed, right, and complete awakening)—“now the causes and conditions for attaining anuttarā samyaksaṃbodhi are stated at length,” namely the six perfections up to the eighteen unshared dharmas—unfolding the single phrase ‘I shall attain awakening’ into a whole picture of the causes of practice. The three questions go layer by layer from brief to broad and from shallow to deep, fixing step by step the ground of ‘surpassing’ in vow and practice. As for why Śāriputra answers “No,” the treatise gives the real reason: the two vehicles, 「雖有慈心，本不發心願度一切眾生，亦不迴善根向阿耨多羅三藐三菩提」 tr. "though they have a mind of kindness, from the outset do not arouse the mind vowing to liberate all beings, nor do they turn their roots of goodness toward anuttarā samyaksaṃbodhi"—where they fall short lies not in the substance and nature of wisdom, but in having from the outset no vow to liberate beings and no dedication toward awakening. For this reason the bodhisattva’s one day of cultivating wisdom surpasses the two vehicles—and here the questions and answers of this part come to their culmination.

16. The firefly and the sun—the summation in the universal shining of compassion and vow. At the last, a simile of light gathers up all the foregoing meaning. The firefly does not form the thought, ‘my power can light up a Jambudvīpa,’ and the two vehicles likewise do not form the thought, ‘my wisdom can light up immeasurable, boundless beings’; the bodhisattva, however, can form the thought “to liberate immeasurable asaṃkhyeyas of beings and bring them to nirvāṇa,” like the sun rising and shining everywhere. The treatise draws the dividing line through the contrast of the firefly and the sun: Śāriputras and Maudgalyāyanas as many as the sands of the Ganges in the ten directions are not equal to one bodhisattva, “like fireflies, which, though many and each shining somewhat, do not reach the sun”—illustrating that great quantity is no match for excellence of quality. There is a further layer, a simile of time, that must be pointed out: the firefly “can shine somewhat at night, but when the sun rises it cannot”; the two vehicles are likewise: 「未有大菩薩時，能師子吼說法教化；有菩薩出，不能有所作」 tr. "when there is not yet a great bodhisattva, they can give the lion’s roar, teach the Dharma, and transform others; when a bodhisattva appears, they can do nothing"—it is not that the firefly does not shine, but that when the sun rises its light hides of itself; it is not that the two vehicles lack the ability to teach the Dharma, but that once the great being appears, their transforming is eclipsed of itself. The boundary of the simile lies exactly here: it is not a comparison in which one is put to shame side by side, but a gulf of original measure and original station. The treatise continues with the virtue of the sun-god as a simile for the bodhisattva’s practice: the sun-god “circles the four continents,” for beings “dispelling all cold and damp and lighting up all darkness, so that each obtains its place”; the bodhisattva likewise, from the first arousing of the mind, constantly practises the six perfections, “dispelling the cold of the unwholesome, drying up the mud of the five desires, and breaking the ignorance of delusion,” so that beings each obtain their place—the cold and damp illustrating the unwholesome, the darkness illustrating ignorance, each matched to its counterpart. Again, “the sun’s light shines everywhere, without hatred and without love, shining on all according to high and low, deep and shallow,” illustrating the bodhisattva who, “abiding in the five supernormal powers and dwelling in empty space, emits the light of wisdom,” illuminating all the karmic retribution of offence and merit without partiality. The last sentence: 「菩薩以智慧光明滅眾生邪見戲論」 tr. "the bodhisattva with the light of wisdom extinguishes beings’ wrong views and idle discourse," “like the morning dew, which melts on seeing the sun”—wrong views and idle discourse are to the light of wisdom exactly what the morning dew is to the sunrise: touched, they melt at once. This group of light similes brings the meaning of the whole part down onto one vivid contrast: it is not that the firefly does not shine, but that it does not form the thought of lighting the world; the bodhisattva’s superiority lies in that single thought of compassion and vow that shines universally on all.

Do Not Misread

Do not read ‘all wisdoms are without difference’ as meaning that the bodhisattva and the two vehicles are not distinguished at all. No difference is said with respect to the mark of quiescent extinction of wisdom’s substance and nature, and that is where Śāriputra’s question lies; the surpassing in the Buddha’s answer is said with respect to the gate of function, arousing the mind and liberating beings. The same in substance and different in function: to run the two together is to miss the meaning of emptiness and the vow of compassion at once. Nor read “wisdom and delusion are without difference” as denying good and evil—that is said on the ultimate layer, “within entry into the nature of dharmas,” as the many rivers entering the ocean share one taste and the five colours near Sumeru share one gold colour, not a levelling of delusion and wisdom on the phenomenal layer where the beginner takes up and rejects; the treatise says plainly, “on first entering the Buddha-dharma, this is delusion, this is wisdom; turning later to enter deeply, delusion and wisdom are not different”—the stages are distinct.

Do not read the superiority of the bodhisattva’s wisdom as a matter of more or less in quantity. That Śāriputras and Maudgalyāyanas as many as the sands of the Ganges in the ten directions, however many, do not reach one bodhisattva shows precisely that superiority lies neither in number nor in higher or lower substance and nature, but in whether one can illuminate emptiness without being attached to emptiness, and liberate oneself while liberating others as well; “making multitude the simile” is exactly for refuting the mistaken reckoning that ‘one does not reach, but many can,’ and the reader must on no account turn it round and take more or less as the measure of superiority.

Do not read the sixteen alternative names as sixteen things. The treatise says clearly, “all are one self, differing only according to circumstance”; the names are glossed one by one in order to show by contrast that not one name is real and that the “soul” is sought and cannot be found—not to set up a table of names and marks. Nor regard ‘wisdom is non-arising and empty in nature’ and wisdom’s moving along with the mind as contradictory: because it follows conditions it has its features of activity, and because its object is originally empty it is said to be non-arising—two sides of one matter, as the eye taking form as object gives rise to a consciousness called either eye-consciousness or form-consciousness.

Do not mistake the three counter-questions from the Buddha’s mouth for the settled judgements of the definite. The treatise lists four kinds—“the definite,” “the analytical,” “the counter-question,” and “the set-aside”—precisely to mark that what the Buddha uses here is the counter-question: by Śāriputra’s own answer, “No,” he is made to awaken for himself; the one who says it is Śāriputra, and the Buddha only questions back on the root of the matter. Misidentify the form of discourse, and one will misremember a skilful means for bringing him to understanding as a direct pronouncement of the Buddha. Still less read these similes—bamboo, hemp, rice, and reeds filling Jambudvīpa, the vajra jewel, the chick of the kalaviṅka bird—as actual similes or tales of marvels; the treatise has made clear of itself that this is a “simile by supposition,” whose path lies in adorning discussion and making people give rise to faith, and the point of the similes lies wholly in showing that the bodhisattva’s wisdom is the root of the buddhas’ dharmas; do not cling to the simile and forget the meaning.

Bearing on Practice

This part can serve as a measuring rule for contemplative practice. When contemplating emptiness, one can ask: have I broken only the dharmas contemplated, or have I set down along with them the self that knows emptiness—have I stopped at the emptiness of dharmas, or attained the emptiness of beings as well? The treatise sets the emptiness spoken again on the single sentence “the contemplator too is empty,” handing us precisely this mirror in which to see the mind: however empty one contemplates outer objects to be, if one secretly keeps back a contemplator who is not empty, one is still only halfway.

When wisdom arises, one can ask: is this bit of understanding of mine only the boring through the wall by which one seeks to get oneself out of prison, or does it carry the great compassion that breaks the prison and rescues the multitude? The treatise’s two similes of leaving the prison, which distinguish finishing one’s own affair from rescuing others as well, are the fittest means for examining whether the landing point of one’s own cultivation of wisdom lies at the end of self-benefit or where self and other are not separated. The bodhisattva surpasses the two vehicles not by some higher substance and nature, but by that one thought of vow and practice to liberate beings—to learn this part is to see all dharmas as empty in one’s dealings while not abandoning a single being in one’s heart; only this is where the true meaning of ‘surpassing’ lies.

When pleased with oneself in favourable circumstances, one can ask: am I like the firefly, secretly supposing it can light up a Jambudvīpa, or do I honestly look to see whether, among my thoughts, there is that vow to liberate all beings? The treatise records that the two vehicles “from the outset do not arouse the mind vowing to liberate all beings, nor do they turn their roots of goodness toward anuttarā samyaksaṃbodhi,” pointing the cause of falling short at the vow and not at wisdom—the one who applies effort can examine himself here at all times: is this the light of a firefly, content with finishing its own affair, or the light of a compassionate vow rising to shine on all? If one can answer these few questions steadily, that is not falling into annihilation within ultimate emptiness, and not losing the vow of compassion within non-arising and emptiness of nature—and this is precisely what accord with prajñā looks like at its starting point.

Further Resonances

Of the ancient masters who later read this part, what was most often taken up first was the opening section on why emptiness is spoken again and on the emptiness of beings illustrating the emptiness of dharmas: some set the two gates of the emptiness of beings and the emptiness of dharmas side by side, judging that this chapter re-examines why beings are empty; others divided the whole chapter into several sections—practising in accord with prajñā, making clear the benefit gained, and so on—as a framework for reading this long chapter. Besides this, the sentence on one day’s cultivation of wisdom surpassing the two vehicles, and the gloss on the name “practising in accord” as cultivating so as to bring into accord, were repeatedly cited as notes on the features of the practice of prajñā and on the meaning of accord; the division of the four kinds of discourse, and the positions of the three names path-wisdom, the wisdom of the kinds of paths, and the omniscience of all kinds, were also often drawn on by later people in distinguishing the three knowledges of prajñā. These readings each have their own provenance; here only their approach is recorded, without judging which is higher. Brought back to this chapter, what is most worth keeping is not a finer outline, but this part’s rewriting of ‘surpassing’: the bodhisattva surpasses all the two vehicles not because his wisdom has some higher place in substance and nature, but because of that unbroken continuity of compassion and wisdom which does not see emptiness and yet does not abandon beings—every bit of understanding arises not only for one’s own deliverance, but in order not to leave beings and not to leave prajñā.