What Makes Us Recognizably Alike?

The characteristics of possession and non-possession have now been explained. What is class-commonality? A verse states: class-commonality is [what makes] sentient beings, and so on, [alike]. Prose: there is a genuinely separate real entity called "class-commonality," referring to the mutual resemblance in kind shared among sentient beings; the root treatise names this "the class-commonality of sentient beings." This is further of two kinds: without distinction, and with distinction. "Without distinction" refers to the class-commonality shared simply as sentient beings — since all sentient beings equally possess this, without exception. "With distinction" refers to the separate, distinct class-commonalities shared according to realm, level, destiny, mode of birth, lineage, sex, or standing as a lay follower, a monastic, a trainee, or a non-trainee, and so on — since each particular class of beings equally possesses its own such commonality. There is also a class-commonality of dharmas, referring to commonality according to aggregate, sense field, or element.

If there were no real entity, without distinction in its characteristic, called "class-commonality," then, among sentient beings who mutually differ from one another in countless ways, the undifferentiated cognition and the undifferentiated designation of them as equally "sentient beings" ought not to be possible at all. The same reasoning should be understood to apply to the undifferentiated cognition and designation of aggregates, and so on, as equally alike.

Is there any case of dying and being reborn in which one neither relinquishes nor acquires a sentient being's class-commonality? This should be treated as a fourfold case. The first case: dying in a certain place and being reborn again in that very same place. The second case: at the moment of entering the state of correct assurance apart from birth [that is, entering the path of seeing], one relinquishes the ordinary-being class-commonality and acquires the noble-one class-commonality. The third case: dying in one destiny and being reborn in another destiny, and so on. The fourth case: whatever is excluded from the preceding characteristics.

If there is a genuinely separate real entity called "ordinary-being class-commonality," what further need is there to separately establish "ordinary-being-nature" as well? [Reply:] It is not the case that a distinct person's class-commonality [alone] is what constitutes a distinct human nature, since [class-commonality and personhood-nature] are separate matters. Furthermore, class-commonality is not something ordinarily perceived in the world, since it is not a form. Nor is it something wisdom and cognition are able to discern, since it has no distinct function of its own. Given that ordinary people do not perceive any "class-commonality" among sentient beings, yet still regard them as [genuinely, equally] undifferentiated, what use would positing such an entity even serve? Furthermore, why is it not accepted that inanimate things, too, have a class-commonality — grains such as rice and wheat and beans, or metals such as gold and iron, or fruits such as mango and jackfruit, since these likewise resemble their own respective kinds? Furthermore, class-commonalities themselves mutually differ from one another [in countless further ways] — so how is it that no further class-commonality is posited for them, and yet an undifferentiated cognition and designation of them still arises?

Furthermore, this would end up vindicating exactly what the Vaiśeṣika school holds: that school maintains that there is a category called "universal sameness" (samānya), by which the cognition and language of total sameness across all dharmas arises; and it further maintains a category called "sameness-and-difference" (sāmānya-viśeṣa), by which the cognition and language of sameness and difference among distinct kinds of things arises. The Vaibhāṣika masters reply as follows: that school's position is not the same in kind as ours, since they hold that a single such entity operates across many separate things at once [whereas our "class-commonality," though shared in kind, is a distinct instance within each individual continuum]. Furthermore, whether or not this point is made explicit in their case, this class-commonality [of ours] must still be a real entity, because a sutra says so — as the World-Honored One states: "If one comes back here and attains a human being's class-commonality," and so on, as stated at length. Although this is said, the sutra does not go so far as to say there is a genuinely separate real entity called "class-commonality." If that is so, then what is this "class-commonality" that is spoken of? It is simply that, when formations of this general kind arise, "a human being's class-commonality," and so on, is provisionally established among them — just like the "class-commonality" spoken of among grains such as rice, wheat, and beans. This is not a well-reasoned position, since it contradicts our own school's tenet. Class-commonality has now been fully explained.

What is non-percipience? Verse: non-percipience, among non-percipient beings, is the cessation of mind and mental factors; as a karmic-ripening result, it dwells in the Vast Fruit heaven. Prose: if one is born among the non-percipient sentient beings in the heavens, there is a dharma able to make mind and mental factors cease — this is called "non-percipience." It is a genuinely real entity, able to obstruct future mind and mental factors so that they temporarily do not arise, just as a dike blocks a river. This dharma is exclusively a karmic-ripening result. Whose ripening is it? It is the ripening of the attainment of non-percipience. Where do non-percipient beings dwell? They dwell in the Vast Fruit heaven (Bṛhatphala) — that is, within the Vast Fruit heaven there is an elevated, superior region, comparable to the intermediate dhyāna, named the Heaven of Non-Percipient Beings.

Are these beings always without perception, or do they also, at times, have perception? At the moments of being born there and of dying from there, they do have perception, for an extended time. The reason they are called "without perception" is that, in the long interval between these two moments, perception does not arise in them at all. As a sutra states: those sentient beings, because perception arises again, pass away from that place; and yet those sentient beings, like someone waking from a long sleep, have perception arise once more, and, having passed away from that place, they must necessarily be reborn in the desire realm and nowhere else — because the power of the meditative practice they had previously cultivated is now exhausted, and they are no longer able, while there, to cultivate that same attainment again, just as an arrow shot into the sky falls back down once its force is spent. If a being is destined to be reborn in that place, that being must already possess karma bringing about a delayed result within the desire realm — just as a being destined to be reborn in Uttarakuru must necessarily already possess the karma for that particular birth. Non-percipience has now been fully explained.

What are the two attainments? They are the attainment of non-percipience and the attainment of cessation. What is the characteristic of the first, the attainment of non-percipience? Verse: this attainment of non-percipience, cultivated within the last dhyāna, is sought as liberation; being wholesome, it conduces only to a result in one's very next birth; it is not attained by noble ones, and, once attained, is attained only for a single lifetime. Prose: as stated above, there is a dharma able to make mind and mental factors cease, called "non-percipience"; likewise, there is a further, separate dharma able to make mind and mental factors cease, called "the attainment of non-percipience." Read one way, this names the attainment that is non-percipience; read another way, it names the attainment that produces non-percipience — either reading only expresses that this attainment's cessation of mind and mental factors is the very same cessation as non-percipience itself. On which level does this occur? On the last dhyāna — that is, specifically the fourth dhyāna, and nowhere else. What does one seek in cultivating the attainment of non-percipience? One seeks liberation. Those who cultivate it hold that non-percipience is genuine liberation, and cultivate this attainment in order to realize it. It was said earlier that non-percipience itself, being a karmic-ripening result, is subsumed under the undefiled-neutral nature — this has already been established, and needs no further statement here. But the attainment of non-percipience itself is, without exception, wholesome; and, being wholesome, it is able to bring about the karmic-ripening result of the five aggregates among the non-percipient beings in that heaven. Given that it is wholesome in nature, which kind of karmic result does it conduce to? It conduces only to a result in one's very next birth — never to a result in the present life, nor a later life beyond the next, nor an indeterminate result.

Once this attainment has arisen, even if it is later lost, tradition holds that, within that very same life, it must arise again, and one will then be reborn among the non-percipient beings in that heaven. For this reason, once one has attained this attainment, one is definitely unable to enter the state of correct assurance apart from birth — that is, to enter the path of seeing. It is also accepted that only ordinary beings attain this attainment, never noble ones, since noble ones regard the attainment of non-percipience the way one regards gazing into a deep pit, taking no pleasure in entering it. Only someone who holds non-percipience to be genuine liberation, giving rise to the perception of renunciation on that basis, cultivates this attainment; since no noble one holds any contaminated state to be genuine liberation or genuine renunciation, noble ones definitely never practice this attainment. When noble ones cultivate and attain the fourth dhyāna, do they, the way they attain the ordinary dhyāna's past and future modes of possession, also attain the past and future modes of the attainment of non-percipience? They attain neither of those either. Why is this? Although they may have practiced this attainment previously, before becoming noble ones, because it is a mindless state, it must be cultivated and attained afresh each time, through great effortful practice; hence, at the very first moment of attaining it, one attains only that single occasion — that is, one attains only the present instance — just as when one first receives the prātimokṣa precepts. Once one has attained this attainment, its second moment, and so on, up until it is relinquished, likewise only ever become past instances; because it is a mindless state, there is no cultivating a future instance of it in advance.

What, next, is the characteristic of the attainment of cessation? Verse: the attainment of cessation is likewise so; it is sought for the sake of dwelling in stillness, at the Peak of Existence; it is wholesome, and conduces to two kinds of result, or to an indeterminate one; it is attained by noble ones, through effortful practice; the Buddha attained it not by this means, on account of the thirty-four moments. Prose: as with the attainment of non-percipience, so too with the attainment of cessation. What does this word "likewise" illustrate? It illustrates that, like the attainment of non-percipience, this too is the cessation of mind and mental factors. Just as there is said to be a separate dharma able to make mind and mental factors cease, called "the attainment of non-percipience," so too there is a further, separate dharma able to make mind and mental factors cease, called "the attainment of cessation." As for the distinguishing characteristics of these two attainments: the former, the attainment of non-percipience, is sought for the sake of liberation, preceded by the attention of renunciation; this latter, the attainment of cessation, is sought for the sake of dwelling in stillness, preceded by the attention of stilling perception. The former occurs within the last dhyāna; this latter occurs only at the Peak of Existence, that is, the sphere of neither perception nor non-perception. This attainment is, like the former, wholesome in nature alone, never undefiled-neutral or defiled, since it arises together with wholesome states. The former conduces only to a result in the very next birth; this latter extends to a result in the very next birth, a later birth, or an indeterminate result — that is, with respect to its karmic ripening, it may conduce to a result in the very next birth, or a later birth, or an indeterminate result, or, indeed, to no result being received at all. That is: if one attains final nirvana at a lower level before the ripening occurs, what level, and how many aggregates, does this attainment bring about as its result? It brings about only the karmic-ripening result of the four aggregates at the Peak of Existence.

The former, the attainment of non-percipience, is attained only by ordinary beings; this latter, the attainment of cessation, is attained only by noble ones — ordinary beings are unable to bring it about, since they fear its apparent cessation and extinction, since it can only be brought about through the power of the noble path, and since one enters it through a resolute understanding of nirvāṇa realized within this very life. This attainment, too, like the former, is not attained through mere freedom from defilement alone. By what means, then, is it attained? It is attained through effortful practice, since it can only be realized by means of effortful practice. Moreover, at the moment of its first attainment, one attains only the present instance — one does not thereby attain any past instance, nor does one cultivate any future instance — since it can only be cultivated through the power of a functioning mind. Its second moment, and so on, up until it is relinquished, likewise only ever become past instances.

Does the World-Honored One likewise attain this through effortful practice? No. How, then? He attained it at the very moment of becoming a Buddha — that is, the World-Honored Buddha attained it at the moment of the knowledge of extinction. Not a single one of the Buddha's qualities is attained through effortful practice; the moment he simply wishes to bring any quality into present manifestation, every perfected quality arises in accordance with that wish. Therefore, all of the Buddha's qualities are attained simply through freedom from defilement, without effortful practice. If the World-Honored One had never actually brought forth the attainment of cessation before that moment, how, at the moment of attaining the knowledge of extinction, could he then be said to have achieved liberation in both respects? Because he has mastery over bringing forth the attainment of cessation, he counts as one who has achieved liberation in both respects, just as if he had already brought it forth.

The Western masters say: a bodhisattva, while still a trainee, first brings forth this attainment of cessation, and only afterward attains awakening. Why, here, is their position not accepted? Because accepting it would align with the position of the Venerable Upagupta's treatise, the Lǐmùzú Lùn (理目足論). As that treatise states: it should be said that the Tathāgata first brought forth the attainment of cessation, and only afterward gave rise to the knowledge of extinction. The Kashmiri Vaibhāṣika masters say: it is not the case that he first brought forth the attainment of cessation and only afterward gave rise to the knowledge of extinction. Why is this? Because tradition holds that a bodhisattva attains awakening across exactly thirty-four mental moments. Within the direct realization of the truths there are sixteen moments; in becoming free of craving for the Peak of Existence there are a further eighteen moments — that is, cutting off the nine grades of affliction at the Peak of Existence requires nine uninterrupted paths and nine liberation paths; these eighteen, added to the previous sixteen, make thirty-four. Every bodhisattva, without exception, has already become free of craving with respect to the sphere of nothing-at-all before entering the path of seeing, and so has no further need to cut off the afflictions of any lower level; within this intervening span, there is no room whatsoever for any dissimilar state of mind to arise. Therefore, a bodhisattva, while still a trainee, should never bring forth the attainment of cessation within that span.

Foreign masters raise this response: if a dissimilar state of mind did arise within that interval, what fault would that actually involve? If that were so, there would then be the fault of transgressing one's resolved intention — yet bodhisattvas never transgress their resolved intention. But is it truly the case that a bodhisattva never transgresses his resolved intention, and yet does not thereby ever depart at all from the uncontaminated noble path? If that is so, then in exactly what sense is the resolved intention never transgressed? It is this: "Until I have attained the eternal extinction of all contaminants, I will never rise from this cross-legged seat." This resolved intention is never transgressed, in the sense that everything is brought to completion within that single, unbroken sitting. The position stated earlier is the better one, since it is our own school's tenet.

Although much has already been said about the many points of resemblance and difference between the two attainments, further points remain to be addressed. Verse: the two attainments occur based on the desire realm and the form realm; the attainment of cessation first arises only among humans. Prose: by "the two attainments" is meant the attainment of non-percipience and the attainment of cessation. Both of these occur based on the two realms, desire and form. If someone does not accept that the attainment of non-percipience also occurs based on the form realm, this would contradict the following passage. For the root treatise states: there is a kind of existence that is form-existence, and this existence is not simply one of the five destinies. That is: a sentient being bound to the form realm may be born in a heaven where perception is present, abiding with a dissimilar type of mind, and may then enter either the attainment of non-percipience or the attainment of cessation. Or, having already been born in the Heaven of Non-Percipient Beings, such a being may then enter non-percipience directly — this too is called form-existence, and this existence is likewise not one of the five destinies. From this, it is established that both attainments occur based on the desire realm and the form realm alike — this is called their point of resemblance.

As for their point of difference: the attainment of non-percipience can first arise in either the desire realm or the form realm, while the attainment of cessation can first arise only among human beings. Having first cultivated and brought forth this attainment while human, one may, through first losing it, then be reborn in the form realm, and, based on a form-realm body, cultivate and bring it forth once again thereafter. Does this attainment of cessation, then, also admit of being lost? It should be said that it does. Were this not so, it would contradict the Sūtra of Udāyin. That sutra states: "Venerable ones! There are certain monks who, having first perfected pure moral discipline, perfected concentration, and perfected wisdom in this very place, are able to repeatedly enter and emerge from the attainment of the cessation of feeling and perception — such a case is indeed possible. It should be understood as it truly is: such a person, whether within this present life or at the moment of death, being unable to strive further to bring their liberation to full completion, upon the breaking up of this body, transcends the heavens of coarse food and is reborn, according to what is received, in a mind-made heavenly body in one of those states. Having been born there, that person may again repeatedly enter and emerge from the attainment of the cessation of feeling and perception — this, too, is indeed possible." It should be understood as it truly is that this mind-made heavenly body is what the Buddha calls the form realm — yet the attainment of the cessation of feeling and perception properly belongs only to the Peak of Existence. If, once this attainment were obtained, one could never lose it at all, how could such a person then go on to be reborn with a form-realm body at all?

Some other schools hold that the fourth dhyāna, too, has its own attainment of cessation. According to what they hold, the position that the attainment of cessation is never lost would indeed also be established. But the position that the fourth dhyāna has the attainment of cessation cannot possibly be established. Why is this? Because a sutra speaks of nine sequential attainments. If this sequence must invariably hold, then how could there be such a thing as a "superseding attainment"? This fixed sequence is stated with reference to a beginner in training; once one has attained mastery, one may leap over levels freely, as one wishes.

In this way, the two attainments differ in many respects: they differ in level, since one belongs to the fourth dhyāna and the other to the Peak of Existence; they differ in preparatory practice, since one is preceded by the attention of renunciation and the other by the attention of stilling perception; they differ in whose continuum they arise within, since one arises within the continuum of ordinary beings and the other within the continuum of noble ones; they differ in karmic ripening, since one brings about the ripening-result of non-percipience and the other the ripening-result of the Peak of Existence; they differ in what kind of result they conduce to, since one conduces only to a fixed result in the next birth, while the other gives rise to two further, less fixed kinds of result as well; and they differ in where they first arise, since one first arises in either of the two realms, while the other first arises only among humans. Both attainments, taken together, have the cessation of mind and all its mental factors as their essential nature — why, then, is one named specifically "non-percipience," and the other specifically "the cessation of feeling and perception"? Because, within the preparatory practice for each of the two attainments, it is specifically this — perception alone, or feeling and perception together — toward which the practitioner feels aversion and renunciation; the name simply follows what the practitioner's own intention specifically targets, just as, even though the wisdom that knows another's mind also thereby comes to know that person's feeling and the rest along with it, it is named solely "the wisdom that knows others' minds," after its single most salient object.

Now, within these two attainments, mind is cut off for a long span of time — how, then, does mind arise again afterward? The Vaibhāṣika masters hold that the past mind which immediately preceded the attainment serves as the immediately-antecedent condition for the mind that arises afterward. Other masters say: consider the case of a being reborn in the formless realm, where form is cut off for a long span of time — how, then, does form arise again afterward, when such a being is eventually reborn back into a realm with form? In that case, you must surely hold that this rebirth-arising occurs through the power of mind, not through form continuing to serve as its own antecedent condition, since form was cut off the whole time. In just the same way, then, the mind that arises upon emerging from these two attainments should likewise be explained: it must arise through the power of the physical, sense-endowed body, not through mind continuing to serve as its own antecedent condition, since mind was cut off the whole time. For this reason, the earlier generations of master-teachers all alike held that these two things serve as mutual seeds for one another. The two things are: mind, and the physical, sense-endowed body.

The Venerable Vasumitra, in his Questions Treatise, states: "If one holds that the attainment of cessation involves no mind whatsoever, this fault would indeed follow. I hold instead that the attainment of cessation still retains a subtle mind — hence this fault does not arise." The Venerable Ghoṣaka says this position is not correct. Why is this? If, within this attainment, consciousness were still present, then, since the three factors would come together, contact would necessarily also be present; and, with contact serving as condition, feeling and perception would necessarily also be present. As the World-Honored One states: "Mind and dharmas serve as condition, giving rise to mental consciousness; the coming-together of the three is contact, and feeling, perception, and volition arise together with it." It would then follow that feeling, perception, and the rest of these dharmas would likewise not actually cease within this attainment. If one argues, as a sutra states, that "feeling serves as condition for craving," and yet an arhat, though still having feelings, does not thereby give rise to craving — so likewise contact here need not give rise to feeling — then, by the same token, contact too should not need to serve as condition for feeling in every case, since not every instance of contact serves as the condition for feeling and the rest. But this comparison does not actually hold, since there is a real difference between the two cases: the sutra itself explicitly qualifies its own statement, saying, "it is specifically feelings arisen from the contact of ignorance that serve as the condition for craving to arise" — whereas nowhere does it similarly qualify contact's giving rise to feeling. Hence there is indeed a real difference between the two cases. For this reason, the Vaibhāṣika masters hold that, within the attainment of cessation, all mind whatsoever genuinely ceases.

If there is truly no mind whatsoever present, how can this state still be called an "attainment"? This state causes the great elements to proceed in a balanced, even way, and it is for this reason that it is called an "attainment"; or else, it is called an "attainment" because it is reached through the power of mind having brought the elements into such an even balance beforehand. Are these two attainments, then, genuinely real entities, or are they merely provisionally posited? It should be said that they are genuinely real entities, since they are able to obstruct mind, causing it not to arise. There is another view: this line of proof should not be accepted, since it is instead the immediately preceding moment of concentrated mind itself that does the obstructing. That is: the immediately preceding moment of concentrated mind arises in a manner opposed to every other kind of mind, and, because it arises this way, it alone causes all other kinds of mind to temporarily not operate. Because this is able to bring about, within the underlying support, a continuing condition opposed to ordinary mind, it is only with respect to this state of ordinary mind not operating that the term "attainment" is provisionally applied — there is no genuinely separate real entity involved at all. This "attainment," being merely the provisional label for the phase in which ordinary mind does not operate, is present neither at the moment of entering nor at the moment of emerging from it; hence it is only provisionally said to be subsumed under the conditioned. Or alternatively: it is simply the underlying support itself, brought by the power of the preceding concentrated mind to persist in this condition, that is provisionally called "the attainment." Non-percipience, too, should be understood in just the same way: it arises because the immediately preceding moment of mind arises in a manner opposed to every other kind of mind, and, because it arises this way, it alone causes other kinds of mind to temporarily not operate; it is only with respect to this state of non-operation that "non-percipience" is provisionally applied, and the rest should be explained just as before. This is not a well-reasoned position, since it contradicts our own school's tenet. The two attainments have now been fully explained.

What is the life faculty? Verse: the essence of the life faculty is simply life itself, the dharma able to sustain vital warmth and consciousness. Prose: the essence of "life faculty" is simply "life" itself. Hence an Abhidharma text says: "What is the life faculty? It is life within the three realms." But this still leaves unclear what dharma, exactly, is called "life." There is a separate dharma, able to sustain vital warmth and consciousness, that is called "life." Hence the World-Honored One states: "When life, warmth, and consciousness — these three dharmas — depart from the body, that abandoned body lies rigid and fallen, like a piece of wood, without thought or sensation." Therefore, there is indeed a separate dharma, serving as the cause that sustains the continuity of vital warmth and consciousness, that is called "life."

If that is so, then what, in turn, sustains this life itself? One might answer: it is precisely vital warmth and consciousness that, in turn, sustain this life. But if that is so, then these three dharmas sustain one another reciprocally, continuing in mutual succession — which one of them, then, ceases first? For whichever one ceases first, the remaining two would then also cease as a consequence — and so these three ought never to perish at all. Given this difficulty, one might instead say that it is karma that sustains this life, since life continues in succession precisely as karma has drawn it forth. If that is so, then why not simply hold that karma alone sustains vital warmth and consciousness directly, with no need to posit "life" as a further, separate thing at all? This will not do — for it would then follow that no consciousness whatsoever is ever a karmic-ripening result, from its very first moment to its last. Given this, one might then say instead: karma sustains warmth, and warmth in turn sustains consciousness — so why is "life" needed at all? But then consciousness within the formless realm would have nothing at all to sustain it, since that realm has no warmth. One would then have to say that, there, karma alone sustains consciousness directly — but can one really be permitted to keep shifting the account this freely, however convenient? Either one holds that consciousness is sustained by warmth alone, or that it is sustained by karma alone — and this very difficulty has already been raised above: it would mean no consciousness whatsoever is ever a karmic-ripening result from its first moment to its last. For this reason, one must definitely accept that there is a separate dharma, able to sustain vital warmth and consciousness, that is called "life."

Even so, this is not to say that "life" has absolutely no essence at all — it is only to say that this essence is not some further, wholly separate real entity. If that is so, then what, exactly, is meant by "the essence of life"? It is simply the force of duration, drawn forth by karma within the three realms, by which a given class-commonality persists for its allotted span — this is what is called "the essence of life." Because the force of duration drawn forth by three-realm karma for a given class-commonality is fixed in its continuity, persisting precisely for however long it is due to persist, this force is what is called "the essence of life" — comparable to the force, drawn forth within a grain seed and the like, that carries it through to the moment of ripening, or comparable to the force, drawn forth by the shooting of an arrow, that carries it through to the moment it finally comes to rest.

There are those who hold that there is "motion" as a distinct quality, arising dependent on the arrow and so on, by whose power the arrow continues moving without stopping, until it finally falls. But if this motion-quality's essence were single and uniform, unobstructed throughout, then there could be no difference in how quickly or slowly it arrives when traveling to different places at different angles, and, moreover, it should then never actually fall to the ground at all. If one says that it eventually falls because it is obstructed by wind, then it should either fall immediately at the very start, or else never fall at all — since the obstructing wind, on this account, is present without any variation throughout the whole flight. The position that there is instead a separate real entity, able to sustain warmth and consciousness, called the essence of life, is the better position.

Does one die because one's lifespan-karma is exhausted, or is there some further cause as well? The Prajñapti-śāstra states: there is death because lifespan-karma is exhausted, and there is death that is not because merit-karma is exhausted. This is treated at length as a fourfold case. The first case: the karmic power that draws forth the ripening-result of lifespan itself is exhausted. The second case: the karmic power that draws forth the ripening-result of wealth and happiness is exhausted, even while lifespan-karma is not. The third case: the karmic power capable of drawing forth both of these kinds of result is exhausted together. The fourth case: neither is exhausted, but one is simply unable to escape an unforeseen, violent circumstance. It should also be said, further, that there is death through deliberately relinquishing the life-formation. At the point where lifespan-karma alone is exhausted, the further exhaustion of merit-karma has no additional power over death at all; hence, when both happen to be exhausted together, this is described as "death because both are exhausted," not as two separate causes operating at once.

The Jñānaprasthāna asks: should this life be said to flow along in continuous succession, or should it be said to arise once and then simply remain fixed? For sentient beings bound to the desire realm who do not enter the attainment of non-percipience and do not enter the attainment of cessation, it should be said that their life flows along in continuous succession. For beings who enter the attainment of non-percipience or the attainment of cessation, and for all sentient beings bound to the form or formless realms, it should be said that their life arises once and then simply remains fixed. What is the meaning of this? If the underlying support of the body is such that it can be damaged, and life is correspondingly damaged along with it, this is the first case — life flowing along in continuous succession. If the underlying support of the body cannot be damaged, so that life simply remains as it originally arose, this is the second case — life arising once and remaining fixed. The Kashmiri Vaibhāṣika masters say: the first case reveals a life subject to obstruction, and the second reveals a life not subject to obstruction — and it is precisely because of this distinction that untimely death is definitely possible for beings of the first kind.

Hence a sutra states: there are four kinds of obtained self-bodies — namely, there are self-bodies that can only be harmed by oneself, and cannot be harmed by another. This is treated at length as a fourfold case. Those that can only be harmed by oneself, and not by another: this refers to those born in the desire realm as the heavenly beings of the Heaven of Play and Forgetfulness, or of Malicious Intent — these beings, through giving rise to excessive joy or excessive rage, pass away specifically by that means, and by no other. It should also be said that this applies to all Buddhas, who enter final nirvana entirely by their own will. Those that can only be harmed by another, and not by oneself: this refers to sentient beings still in the womb or the egg. Those that can be harmed by either: this refers to the greater portion of the remaining sentient beings of the desire realm. Those that cannot be harmed by either: this refers to beings in the intermediate state, all sentient beings of the form and formless realms, and a portion of desire-realm beings — namely, those in the hells, those in Uttarakuru, those genuinely dwelling on the path of seeing, those absorbed in loving-kindness concentration, in the attainment of cessation, or in the attainment of non-percipience, sage-kings and seers, a Buddha's own emissary, and those individuals a Buddha has specifically prophesied by name, a bodhisattva in his final existence, and this bodhisattva's mother while carrying the bodhisattva in her womb, as well as every wheel-turning king, and a wheel-turning king's mother while carrying that king in her womb.

If that is so, then why does a sutra state: "Venerable one! Which sentient beings have obtained a self-body that can be harmed neither by themselves nor by another?" "Śāriputra! Those sentient beings reborn in the sphere of neither perception nor non-perception." Tradition holds that the self-bodies obtained in the remaining, lower formless dhyānas can indeed be harmed — either by the noble path belonging to their own level, or by the approach-stage concentration of a higher level. Only at the Peak of Existence are both of these kinds of harm entirely absent, which is why it alone is said to be harmable by neither. But is the Peak of Existence not also, in the end, affected by the noble path of another, higher order — should this not then also count as "harmed by another"? It should be understood that this citation names a later item to indicate an earlier one, just as, in some places, a text names the first item to indicate what follows, and in other places names the last item to indicate what came before. What is meant by "naming the first to indicate what follows"? As a sutra states: "Like the Heaven of Brahmā's Assembly — this is called the first heaven of joyful rebirth." What is meant by "naming the last to indicate what came before"? As a sutra states: "Like the Heaven of Radiant Light — this is called the second heaven of joyful rebirth." In that sutra, the word "like" expresses a genuine analogy, so it may indeed be said that one example is cited to represent the rest, since an analogy, by its nature, cites one instance to stand for its whole class. This present passage has no such word "like," and so cannot simply be treated the same way as that case. If this "citing one to indicate the rest" pattern only held wherever an explicit marker such as "like" were present, then it should not hold in other sutras lacking that word either — yet another sutra states: "There are sentient beings with form but differing in body, and differing also in perception, such as human beings and a certain group of gods — this is the first abode of consciousness," which plainly uses this same "citing one to represent the class" pattern without using the word "like" at all. This shows that the pattern holds even without an explicit marker like "like." Let this digression now rest. The life faculty has now been fully explained.

What are the characteristics? Verse: the characteristics are the nature of all conditioned dharmas — arising, abiding, decay, and cessation. Prose: because these four are the characteristics of the conditioned, any dharma possessing them must be conditioned, and whatever is the reverse of this is unconditioned. With respect to dharmas, that which is able to bring a dharma into being is called "arising"; that which is able to settle it is called "abiding"; that which is able to make it decline is called "decay"; and that which is able to destroy it is called "cessation." "Nature" here means essence.

Does a sutra not state that there are three characteristics of the conditioned? In this present treatise, it ought to be said that there are four — why, then, does that sutra not mention one, namely, the characteristic of abiding? In fact, that sutra does speak of "abiding-and-decay" together, as a further name for this same decay. Just as "arising" is another name for "coming into being," and "cessation" is another name for "utter ending," so too should "decay" here be understood as another name for "abiding-and-decay" combined. When a dharma is such that it causes formations to be swept along through the three times, this is what that sutra calls a characteristic of the conditioned, spoken in order to inspire weariness and apprehension in sentient beings. That is: these formations are swept along by the power of arising, carried from the future into the present; and they are swept along and pressed forward by the power of decay and cessation, carried from the present into the past, causing them to decline, change, and be destroyed.

Tradition offers this image: it is like a person dwelling within a dense forest, beset by three enemies bent on doing harm — one drags him out of the forest's shelter, one saps his strength, and one destroys his very life. The three marks — arising, decay, and cessation — should be understood to act upon formations in just this way. Abiding, by contrast, takes hold of and settles those same formations, always wishing never to be parted from them, and for this reason it is not classed among these marks of impermanence working against them. It might also be asked why the unconditioned, too, does not simply borrow "abiding" as its own mark, since it plainly does not perish — but the unconditioned has its own distinct mode of abiding proper to itself, and since "abiding" as a mark of the conditioned would be too easily confused with that unrelated sense, the sutra simply does not apply the word to the unconditioned at all. There is another view: that sutra's mention of "abiding-and-decay" combines the two into a single term precisely called "the mark of abiding-and-decay" together. Why would it be combined this way? Because abiding is exactly what sentient beings cling to and love — so, in order to inspire weariness and renunciation toward it, it is deliberately paired together with decay in a single phrase, the way an inauspicious sign might deliberately be mentioned alongside an auspicious one, precisely to temper any excessive attachment to the auspicious one alone. For this reason, there are, after all, definitely four characteristics of the conditioned.

Since these characteristics — arising and the rest — are themselves conditioned, there ought to be a further, separate set of four characteristics belonging to them as well. But if there is a further set of characteristics, this would lead to an infinite regress, since those further characteristics would themselves need still further characteristics of arising and so on. It should indeed be said that there is a further set — yet this does not lead to an infinite regress. Why is this? Verse: there are these secondary characteristics, arising-of-arising and the rest, whose power extends to eight, or to one. Prose: "these" refers to the four primary characteristics already described above. "Arising-of-arising and the rest" refers to the four secondary characteristics: arising-of-arising, abiding-of-abiding, decay-of-decay, and cessation-of-cessation. Formations are conditioned by means of the four primary characteristics; the primary characteristics are themselves conditioned by means of the four secondary characteristics. But should not each primary characteristic, being itself a dharma marked in this way, require four further secondary characteristics of its own, and each of those, in turn, four more, unfolding without end? This fault does not arise, because the four primary and four secondary characteristics differ in their power, extending respectively to eight dharmas, or to just one. What is meant by "power"? It means a dharma's function, or what is also called its personal efficacy. Each of the four primary characteristics has its function with respect to eight dharmas; each of the four secondary characteristics has its function with respect to only a single dharma. What does this mean? When a dharma arises, nine dharmas arise together along with its own essence — the dharma's own essence counts as one, and the primary and secondary characteristics together account for the remaining eight. Among the primary characteristics, "arising" produces every one of these eight dharmas except its own self-nature; the secondary characteristic "arising-of-arising," among these same nine dharmas, produces only the primary "arising" itself, and nothing else. It is like a hen: some hens lay many chicks, while others lay only one. "Arising" and "arising-of-arising" have exactly this same difference of power — one producing eight, the other producing only one. Among the primary characteristics, "abiding," likewise, causes every one of these same eight dharmas except its own self-nature to abide; the secondary characteristic "abiding-of-abiding," among these nine dharmas, causes only the primary "abiding" itself to abide. Decay and cessation, and their corresponding secondary characteristics, should be understood in just the same way. For this reason, the characteristics of arising and the rest do indeed have further characteristics of their own — but since the secondary characteristics number only four in total, and each has a strictly limited scope of function, there is no fault of infinite regress.

The Sautrāntika masters ask: why analyze empty space in this way? Arising and the rest do not have a genuinely real essence corresponding to how they have just been analyzed. Why is this? Because there is no fixed means of establishing them. That is: unlike form and the rest, these characteristics cannot be established as genuinely real entities through direct perception, through inference, or even through the authority of scripture.

If that is so, then why does a sutra state: "The arising of the conditioned can indeed be known; its ending, and its abiding-and-decay, can indeed be known as well"? Dear friend, you cling to the wording and thereby miss its meaning — it is the Blessed One's own intended meaning that one should rely upon. What, then, is the real meaning this sutra intends? It is this: foolish, ordinary beings, blinded by ignorance, cling to a self and to what belongs to a self within the mere continuum of formations, and, throughout the long night of saṃsāra, become deeply attached to this. In order to sever this attachment, the World-Honored One revealed that the very essence of this continuum of formations is conditioned and dependently arisen — and it was for this reason that he spoke of three characteristics of the conditioned. He did not mean to show that a single formation, within one single moment, possesses all three of these characteristics at once, since arising and the other two occurring within a single moment could never actually be perceived or known at all. It is not the case, however, that being unknowable in this sense means these must therefore be established as a genuinely separate real characteristic — for that very sutra passage also goes on to state: "The arising of the conditioned can indeed be known; its ending, and its abiding-and-decay, can indeed be known as well." The reason the sutra repeats the word "conditioned" alongside each characteristic is simply to make clear that this mark serves to indicate that something is conditioned — not to suggest that this mark itself proves that "the conditioned" genuinely, separately exists as its own real entity, the way a resting white heron indicates that water is nearby without the heron itself being the water. Nor should it be taken to indicate whether the conditioned thing itself is wholesome or unwholesome, the way a young woman's bodily marks might traditionally be read as an omen of good fortune or bad.

The very first arising within a continuum of formations is called "arising"; the final, concluding moment of that continuum is called "cessation"; the continuing succession in between is called "abiding"; and the difference between the earlier and later phases within that same continuum is called "decay." It is on this basis that the World-Honored One said of Nanda: "This good son knows well how feeling arises, knows well how it abides, and knows well how it declines, changes, and is utterly destroyed." Hence it is said in verse: "The beginning of a continuum is named arising; cessation means its final, concluding phase; the continuing succession in between is named abiding; decay is the difference between its earlier and later phases." There is also this verse: "What was formerly absent and now exists is arising; the continuing succession is abiding; the difference between earlier and later is decay; the breaking off of the continuum is called cessation." And there is yet another verse: "Because all dharmas are momentary, there is no genuine abiding, only cessation; since they cease of their own accord, to hold that there is abiding is not reasonable." For this reason, "abiding" is spoken of only with reference to a continuum — and it is by this very account that what the Abhidharma texts state is shown to hold true.

Hence that treatise states: "What is meant by 'abiding'? It refers to any formation that has already arisen but has not yet ceased." This is not to say that "having arisen, not yet ceasing" describes the true nature of a single momentary dharma. Although the Jñānaprasthāna does state: "Within a single mind, what is it that arises — this is called birth? What is it that comes to an end — this is called death? What is it that abides-and-decays — this is called aging?" — that treatise's text is speaking with reference to a mind continuing in succession within a single class-commonality, not with reference to a single momentary instant.

Moreover, even with respect to each single momentary conditioned dharma, apart from insisting these are genuinely separate real entities, the four characteristics can still be established. How can they be established? With respect to each single mind-moment: what was formerly absent and now exists is called "arising"; what has existed and then reverts to non-existence is called "cessation"; each later moment following upon and arising after the one before it is called "abiding"; and the very difference between that earlier and later moment is called "decay." When successive moments arise resembling one another, there is, even so, no absence of real difference between the earlier and the later. How, then, should this difference be understood? Consider a heavy weight, such as a piece of diamond, whether not yet thrown or already thrown, and whether thrown with great force or with little force — there is a genuine difference in how quickly or slowly it comes to fall. From this, the reality of a genuine difference in the transformation of the great elements is established. When formations arise in a resembling, continuous succession, there is, comparing earlier to later, no great degree of difference — hence, even though there is genuine difference, what appears is resemblance.

If that is so, then at the final moment of a sound or a light, or at the moment of final nirvana, since the last of the six sense fields has no further subsequent moment to follow it, there ought to be no abiding-and-decay present at all — and it would then follow that the characteristics as established do not universally apply to every conditioned dharma. This objection does not actually treat "abiding" as its own separate characteristic of the conditioned. What, then, is its point? It concerns "decay" specifically, considered as belonging to abiding. Therefore, wherever there is abiding, there must also necessarily be decay — and, understood this way, the characteristics as established suffer no failure of universal application after all. Now, what the World-Honored One meant to convey by this sutra's brief indication of the characteristics of the conditioned is simply this: a conditioned dharma was formerly absent and now exists, has existed and then reverts to non-existence, and continues in succession in between. It is precisely this difference between its earlier and later phases — what further need is there for arising and the rest as separate, additional entities?

How can the very thing characterized simply be established as itself the characterizing mark? Consider: how can a great being's distinguishing bodily marks fail to be different from the great being himself? The horns, hump, dewlap, hooves, and tail that mark an ox are not different from the ox itself; likewise, the element earth's mark of hardness is not different from earth itself; and seeing something rising in the distance and knowing it to be the mark of smoke is not different from the very substance of the smoke. This characteristic of the conditioned should be understood in just the same way. Although one may already grasp the essential nature of a conditioned dharma such as form, until one also grasps the difference between its former absence and its later existence within a continuum, one still does not know that its essence is conditioned — hence this essential nature by itself is not simply identical to the characteristic of being conditioned. Yet this is not to say that, apart from that essential nature, there exists some further, separate real entity called arising and the rest.

If arising and the rest were indeed separate real entities apart from the essential nature of a conditioned dharma such as form, what exactly would be wrong with that? One dharma, at one time, would then have to be simultaneously arising, abiding, declining, decaying, and being destroyed all at once, since these would be conceded to co-exist together. This objection does not actually hold, because their functions operate at different times: the function of arising operates while the dharma is still future, since, once it has already arisen and is present, it is not arisen yet again. Once dharmas have already arisen and are genuinely present, the functions of abiding and the other two characteristics then begin to operate — it is not the case that, at the very time arising is functioning, the remaining three functions are also functioning. Hence, even though the four marks co-exist together as real entities, there is no actual contradiction between them.

One should first carefully consider: does the essence of a future dharma exist, or does it not — only then can it be established whether "arising" has a function or no function with respect to that dharma at that stage. Supposing one grants that "arising" has a function while the dharma is still future — how, then, is that dharma's futurity itself to be established? One would have to specify a separate mark of "futurity" as well. And once the dharma is present, arising's function has already ceased — how, then, is its presence itself to be established? One would have to specify a separate mark of "presence" too. Moreover, if the functions of abiding and the other two marks are all simultaneously present, then a single dharma's essence, within a single moment, would have to be at once settled in abiding, declining in decay, and being destroyed in cessation, all together. If, at the very moment abiding's mark is able to sustain this dharma, decay-and-cessation are simultaneously able to make it decline and be destroyed, then, at that very moment, should this dharma be called "settled in abiding," or "declining in decay," or "destroyed in cessation"? If it is said that abiding and the other functions do not actually operate at the very same time after all, then that position simply contradicts the doctrine of momentary cessation. If, instead, one says: "What I mean is that all of these characteristics' functions, taken altogether, are ultimately to be understood within the scope of a single moment" — then you must now explain: why is it that, although abiding's mark arises together with the other two, abiding alone is able to function first, sustaining the dharma it supports, keeping it neither decayed nor destroyed? And if abiding's power is strong enough to function first, why does it later become so weak that the dharma, together with abiding itself, is overtaken and worn down by decay and destroyed by cessation?

If one says that abiding's mark, once its function has arisen, should not arise again, just as arising's function does not recur — this may hold for arising, but not for abiding. Arising's function is to draw the dharma to be generated into presence; once it has already entered presence, there is no need to draw it in again. Abiding should not be treated the same way. Abiding's function is to settle what it supports so that it does not decay or cease; and since it has already settled it, it could, in principle, keep it settled forever. By this reasoning, abiding's function ought to arise continuously without end — it cannot simply be treated on the model of arising, as if it too had no capacity to function again. Moreover, what, exactly, obstructs abiding's function, causing it to be present for only a time and then absent again? If one says that decay and cessation are what obstruct it, then decay and cessation's power ought to be strong enough to have obstructed it from the very start — why, then, did they not function earlier instead of waiting? And if abiding's function simply ceases on its own, then the dharma itself would naturally fail to abide with no need for decay and cessation to do anything at all — in which case, where, and how, would these two marks, decay and cessation, ever actually find any function left to perform? What further work, indeed, would there even be for these two functions to accomplish? For it is precisely through abiding's sustaining power that dharmas, once arisen, temporarily do not cease; and once abiding's function is relinquished, the dharma definitely fails to abide and so ceases entirely on its own — meaning decay and cessation's functions have nothing left to do at all.

It should also be granted that, for a single dharma, the phase after it has arisen but before it has been destroyed can reasonably be called "abiding," and the moment it is destroyed can reasonably be called "cessation" — this much, at least, makes sense. But "decay," with respect to a single dharma, cannot reasonably be established at all, whichever way one probes it, forward or backward. Why is this? "Decay" means a transformation of nature between an earlier state and a later one — one cannot meaningfully say that this very same dharma itself "decays into" something different from itself. Hence it is said in verse: "If it remains the very same as before, decay cannot be established; if it decayed into something different from before, that would no longer be one and the same dharma. Therefore, with respect to a single dharma, decay can, in the end, never be established."

Although other schools say that, upon encountering the causal condition for cessation, the mark of cessation is then able to destroy the dharma it destroys — what they say amounts to something like the saying: "While taking a purgative medicine, a god comes down and causes the diarrhea." The causal condition for cessation should itself be sufficient to destroy the dharma to be destroyed — what need is there to additionally posit some separate "mark of cessation" as well? Moreover, mind and mental factors are themselves accepted to cease within a single moment, with no need to wait for any further, separate causal condition of cessation at all — so the function of ceasing and the function of abiding ought to have no priority or sequence between them whatsoever. It follows, then, that for a single dharma, within a single moment, to be both abiding and ceasing does not accord with reason at all. Therefore, the characteristics of the conditioned are properly spoken of with reference to a continuum — a position that does not contradict reason, and accords well with scripture.

If "arising" exists in the future and generates the dharma it is to generate there, then why do not all future dharmas arise all at once, simultaneously? Verse: arising is able to generate what it generates, but not apart from the coming-together of causes and conditions. Prose: it is not that the power of the mark of arising alone, apart from the coming-together of all other causes and conditions, is able to generate the dharma to be generated — hence not all future dharmas arise all at once. If that is so, then we observe only that causes and conditions themselves have the power to generate — there is no need for any separate mark of arising at all. Wherever causes and conditions come together, dharmas simply arise; wherever they do not come together, dharmas do not arise — what need is there, then, to trouble ourselves with positing "arising" as a separate mark? This shows that dharmas arise solely through the power of causes and conditions.

How could it be that you already know every single existing dharma there is? The nature of dharmas is subtle and profound, extremely difficult to know — so, even though a dharma genuinely has a real essence present, it may still not be directly knowable in the way you demand. If there were truly no mark of arising, there ought to be no cognition of "arising" at all; and, moreover, the sixth grammatical case — the possessive "of" — ought not to be applicable at all, as when one says "form's arising," "feeling's arising," and so on — just as one would never say "form's form." The same challenge just raised against there being no "arising" should likewise be raised, in corresponding fashion, against there being no "cessation," and so on for each of the other marks.

If that reasoning held, then, in order to account for the cognition of "emptiness" and "non-self," one would have to posit "emptiness" and "non-self" as further, separate real natures existing apart from the dharmas themselves. And, in order to account for the cognition of "oneness," "twoness," "largeness," "smallness," "combination," "separation," "this," "that," "existence," and so on, one would have to posit these too as separate real categories existing apart from the dharmas — just as the non-Buddhist schools posit number, distinctness, combination, separation, this-ness, that-ness, and existence as their own separate real categories apart from the dharmas themselves. And, in order to account for the sixth grammatical case, one would have to posit a further, separate "collection-nature" belonging to form — or, as when one simply says "form's own nature," how could this same sixth-case expression even be accounted for on your view? For this reason, arising and the rest are established merely as conventional labels, without any separate, real entity involved at all — it is simply in order to indicate that formations were formerly absent and now exist that "arising" is provisionally established. And since this "formerly absent, now existing" characteristic applies across the many distinct categories of dharmas such as form, in order to specify which category is meant, the sixth-case expression is used — "form's arising," "feeling's arising," and so on — simply to let others know that this particular instance of arising belongs to form specifically, and not to feeling or any of the others. The same pattern holds for other examples too, just as ordinary speech says "sandalwood's fragrance" or "a stone's substance" — this should be understood in just the same way. Abiding and the rest should be understood accordingly, each in its own corresponding manner.

If formations could arise without any separate mark of arising at all, then why do space and the other unconditioned dharmas not likewise arise? Formations are called "arising" precisely because they were formerly absent and now exist; the unconditioned, by its very essence, always exists — how, then, could it ever be said to "arise" at all? Moreover, just as it is simply how things naturally stand that not everything whatsoever is said to have arising, so too it should be granted that not every dharma whatsoever is even capable of arising in the first place. And just as, even granting that conditioned dharmas all equally possess the mark of arising, one still accepts that causes and conditions have differing power with respect to different conditioned dharmas — capable of generating some, incapable of generating others — so too, in just the same way, it should be granted that both conditioned and unconditioned dharmas can equally lack any mark of arising at all, while causes and conditions still differ in their power with respect to these two kinds of dharma, having a genuine function of generating with respect to one, and no such function whatsoever with respect to the other.

The Vaibhāṣika masters say: the position that arising and the rest are separate, real entities should indeed be established. Why is this? How could one simply abandon one's own school's fundamental tenet merely because many objections happen to have been raised against it? One does not refrain from planting wheat for fear that deer might come and eat it, nor refuse to eat a delicious rice-cake for fear that many flies might gather upon it. Therefore, with respect to these difficult objections, one should diligently work through and resolve them, while continuing to practice in accordance with one's own school's fundamental tenets. The characteristics of the conditioned have now been fully explained.

What is meant by "the name-body and its kind"? Verse: "name-body and the rest" refers, in summary, to concept, statement, and syllable. Prose: "and the rest" here takes in, together with name-body, both phrase-body and letter-body as well. It should be understood that, here, "name" means that which produces a concept — as when one speaks of the concept of form, sound, fragrance, flavor, and so on. "Phrase" means a complete statement, one that conveys a meaning through to its conclusion — as when one speaks of the statement "all formations are impermanent." Or, when a statement is able to distinguish and clarify differences in activity, function, quality, and time in their proper association, this statement is specifically called a "phrase." "Letter" means a syllable — as when one speaks of the syllables ka, a, i, ī, and so on. But is this "syllable" not simply another name for a unit of writing? It is not that syllables were devised in order to represent units of writing — rather, units of writing were devised in order to represent syllables. Why is this? So that meaning could be understood even when it is not heard spoken aloud, units of writing were devised for that purpose — hence syllables are not simply another name for units of writing. What is meant by calling these "bodies"? It refers to concept, and the rest, taken together as a collective whole. To speak of them "taken together" carries the sense of a gathered collection, since it is with respect to that same sense of a gathered collection that the word udāna, "a compiled summary," is used.

Here, "name-body" refers to such things as the concepts of form, sound, and fragrance. "Phrase-body" refers to such statements as "all formations are impermanent," "all dharmas are without self," and "nirvana is peaceful stillness." "Letter-body" refers to such syllables as ka, kha, ga, and so on. But is it not the case that all three of these have speech as their essential nature, taking sound as their substance, and so ought to be subsumed under the aggregate of form's own nature? How, then, can they be classed as formations dissociated from mind at all? These three do not have speech as their essential nature. Speech is merely audible sound, and mere sound alone does not, by itself, convey meaning. What, then, does convey meaning? It is that speech gives rise to a name, and it is this name that is able to reveal a meaning, and thereby brings understanding about. Not every sound whatsoever is called "speech" — sound is called "speech" specifically and only when meaning can be understood through it.

Which sounds, then, are those that make meaning understood? It is those sounds which speakers have already, by mutual convention, jointly established as a fixed measure for conveying a given meaning. Consider, for instance, how the ancients jointly established the single sound "go" as a fixed measure for conveying nine distinct meanings. Hence it is said in verse: "Direction, beast, earth, light, speech, diamond, eye, heaven, and water — with respect to these nine distinct meanings, the wise have established the sound 'go.'" Those who hold that a name is what reveals meaning must, by the very same logic, also grant that this "meaning-bearing name" is itself just such a jointly-established fixed measure for conveying meaning. If a statement's meaning can already be revealed through name in this conventional sense, and mere sound's own function has already fully accomplished that revealing, what further need is there to needlessly posit some separate, additionally real "name" on top of it?

Moreover, it remains unclear how this "name" is actually brought forth by speech in the first place — is it revealed by speech, or is it generated by speech? If it is generated by speech, then, since speech has the nature of sound, sound in general should be able to generate a name in every case. If one says instead that it is specifically a difference among sounds that generates the name, then this very difference among sounds is already sufficient to convey the meaning by itself — what need is there, then, to wait for some separate "name" on top of it? If, instead, the name is revealed by speech, then, since speech has the nature of sound, sound in general should be able to reveal a name in every case. If one says instead that it is specifically a difference among sounds that reveals the name, then, again, this very difference among sounds is already sufficient to convey the meaning by itself — what need is there to wait for some separate "name"? Moreover, successive momentary sounds cannot actually accumulate together into a single whole, nor does any single dharma gradually arise piece by piece — so how, then, could a name's arising possibly be brought forth by speech at all?

Why should it need to wait upon a whole series of past momentary manifest acts at all? Consider: it is only the very last momentary manifest act that is able to generate the unmanifest. If that same principle applied here, then it would be only the very last moment of sound that generates the name — in which case, simply hearing that last sound alone ought to be sufficient to understand the meaning, without needing to have heard any of the sounds before it. Suppose, instead, one holds this position: speech generates the letter, the letter in turn generates the name, and only then does the name reveal the meaning. This position faces exactly the same difficulty already raised above, since momentary letters, too, cannot actually accumulate together into a single whole. And the same fault just raised against speech "generating" a name applies equally, by the same reasoning, against speech "revealing" one. Moreover, when it comes to distinguishing speech from letter as genuinely separate things, even the most learned and discerning minds, however carefully they apply themselves, are unable to make out any real distinguishing characteristic between the two at all.

Moreover, whether letter is said to be revealed by speech or generated by speech, by the very same reasoning already applied to name, neither position can be shown to hold. Furthermore, if one holds that a name arises together with its meaning, the way arising and the other characteristics are held to co-arise with their own dharma, then a name existing in the present should be unable to refer to a meaning belonging to the past or the future. Moreover, parents and others freely choose whatever name they wish to give their children — how, then, could one possibly say that a name arises together with its meaning, the way arising and the rest are said to co-arise? Moreover, the unconditioned ought, by this reasoning, to have no name at all, since it has no meaning of "arising" — yet this consequence should not be accepted.

As for the World-Honored One's own statement that a verse arises dependent upon name and letter — this simply refers to how, with respect to various meanings, a fixed conventional measure has been jointly established. Sound itself is simply what is called "name"; and it is the particular arrangement of these names that constitutes a verse. It is in this sense that a verse is said to arise "dependent upon name." Since a verse, in this sense, is simply a particular arrangement of names, holding that this arrangement is itself some further, genuinely separate real entity would not accord with reason — no more than one would hold this of a row of trees, or of a mind's own sequence of moments. At most, one might hold that letter alone has a separate real essence of its own, with name-body and the rest simply being this same essence gathered together and arranged collectively. To insist on positing anything further beyond this would serve no purpose at all. The Vaibhāṣika masters, however, say: there are indeed separate real entities constituting name-body and the rest, subsumed under the aggregate of formations dissociated from mind — genuinely real, not merely provisional. Why is this? Because not every dharma whatsoever is something that mere reflection and reasoning alone are capable of fully grasping.

To which realm are name-body and the rest bound? Are they sentient-being-based, or not sentient-being-based? Are they karmic-ripening results, are they nourished-and-grown, or are they of the nature of equal-outflow? Are they wholesome, unwholesome, or neutral? All of these questions should be addressed. Verse: they are bound to the desire and form realms, are sentient-being-based, and are of the nature of equal-outflow and neutral. Prose: name-body and the rest are bound only to the two realms, desire and form. There is another view, that they extend also to the formless realm — but this cannot actually be maintained. Name-body and the rest are, moreover, sentient-being-based, since it is the speaker who produces them that accounts for their status, not the meaning that is merely revealed by them. Name-body and the rest are, further, solely of the nature of equal-outflow, and are subsumed solely under the undefiled-neutral nature.

As stated above, there remain some further points, not yet addressed, regarding the other formations dissociated from mind — these should now be briefly clarified. Verse: class-commonality is likewise so, together with the formless realm and karmic-ripening as well; possession and the characteristics extend across all three categories; non-possession is fixed as solely of the nature of equal-outflow. Prose: the phrase "likewise" indicates that class-commonality, like name-body and the rest, extends across the desire and form realms, is sentient-being-based, and is of the equal-outflow and undefiled-neutral nature. The phrase "together with the formless realm" indicates that it is not confined to the desire and form realms alone. The phrase "and karmic-ripening as well" indicates that it is not confined to the equal-outflow nature alone. Thus its scope by realm extends across all three, and its scope by category extends across two kinds of nature. Possession, and the characteristics as a category, likewise extend across all three: that is, each may be momentary, of the equal-outflow nature, or a karmic-ripening result. Non-possession, and the two attainments, are solely of the equal-outflow nature. The word "solely" makes this clear, as distinct from being a karmic-ripening result and so on. With this, these further, previously unaddressed points have now been explained. Non-percipience and the life faculty have already been explained above, as previously stated. Why is it not separately stated that possession and the rest are solely sentient-being-based? Because it has already been stated that they belong to what a sentient being has accomplished, and so on. Why is it not separately stated that the characteristics extend to both sentient and non-sentient dharmas alike? Because it has already been stated that they accompany all conditioned dharmas without exception. Whatever else has not been addressed here should be understood accordingly, each in its own corresponding manner.