Love and Respect Proceeding Together

As the Blessed One has stated: "There are three realms — the realm of cutting-off, the realm of dispassion, and the realm of cessation," and so on, at length. One asks: why is this treatise composed? The answer: it is composed in order to fully discriminate the meaning of this sūtra passage. That is, the sūtra relates that the venerable Ānanda went to visit the elder named Nāmasthavira. One asks: why did Ānanda go to visit him there? The answer: the venerable Ānanda was one who delighted in the Dharma, one who upheld the true Dharma and gathered in the noble teaching, steering the ship of the noble teaching, forever making his rounds among the fourfold assembly, instructing and admonishing them, again and again observing the monks and the rest, lest they grow slothful, indulge in idle talk, or think in a distorted way about the objects of the senses, causing their one life to pass by in vain and to fall to ruin — it was for this reason that he went to visit him. Further, Ānanda thought as follows: this elder named Nāmasthavira forever delights in stillness and dwells in the forest wilderness — through what vigorous and diligent effort has he realized what excellent virtue? I ought to go and ask him. If he is able to tell me the virtue he has realized, I shall join my palms, rejoice, and praise him accordingly. If he is not able, then I shall, through skillful and earnest means, point out to him the practice he should undertake, so that he may swiftly attain realization, lest he dwell in the forest wilderness for a long time and yet gain nothing — it was for this reason that he went to visit him.

As that sūtra relates, the venerable Ānanda, upon arriving, set forth a discourse of the same kind, not a discourse of a different kind. One asks: what is meant by a "discourse of the same kind"? The answer: if one who dwells in the forest wilderness is asked about the practice proper to forest-dwelling; if one who upholds the vinaya is asked about the vinaya; if one who recites the sūtras is asked about the sūtras; if one who studies the abhidharma is asked about the abhidharma —

this is called a discourse of the same kind. What is contrary to this is called a discourse of a different kind — that is, asking one who dwells in the forest wilderness about all three collections of scripture; asking one who upholds the vinaya about forest-dwelling and the other two collections; asking one who recites the sūtras about forest-dwelling and the other two collections; asking one who studies the abhidharma about forest-dwelling and the other two collections; or asking about still other matters besides — all of these are called discourses of a different kind. The reason the venerable Ānanda set forth only a discourse of the same kind is that, were he to set forth a discourse of a different kind, the other would not understand it, and, not understanding it, would be unable to answer; and, being unable to answer, would feel ashamed in his heart, and, out of shame, would fall into contention and opposition. Not wishing to cause him to fall into such a fault, Ānanda therefore set forth only a discourse of the same kind, asking him only about the practice proper to forest-dwelling. As that sūtra relates,

the venerable Ānanda then asked the elder named Nāmasthavira: if a monk dwells in the forest wilderness, or dwells beneath a tree, or dwells in a quiet cell, or dwells among the charnel grounds, upon what practice ought he repeatedly to reflect? At that time, the elder named Nāmasthavira said to Ānanda: if a monk dwells in the forest wilderness, or dwells beneath a tree, or dwells in a quiet cell, or dwells among the charnel grounds, he ought repeatedly to reflect upon two kinds of practice — namely, calming and insight. Why is this so? If one whose mind is cultivated by calming, it is in dependence on insight that one attains liberation; if one whose mind is cultivated by insight, it is in dependence on calming that one attains liberation; and if one whose mind is cultivated by both calming and insight together, it is in dependence on the three realms that one attains liberation. What are the three realms? They are, namely, the realm of cutting-off, the realm of dispassion, and the realm of cessation. One asks: according to the meaning of the Abhidharma, within a single mind there exist both calming and insight together — how, then, is this distinction between the two kinds of practitioner to be established? The answer: the distinction arises through the exertion applied during one's preparatory effort — that is, during this preparatory exertion, one either cultivates predominantly the provisions of calming, or cultivates predominantly the provisions of insight. One who cultivates predominantly the provisions of calming is one who, during this preparatory exertion, forever delights in dwelling alone in leisure and stillness, fearing the clamor of crowds and regarding disorder and mixture as a fault, forever dwelling in a quiet cell — and, upon entering the noble path, is called a practitioner of calming. One who cultivates predominantly the provisions of insight is one who, during this preparatory exertion, forever delights in reciting and reflecting upon the three collections of scripture, again and again observing the particular and general characteristics of all dharmas — and, upon entering the noble path, is called a practitioner of insight. Further, there is one who binds his mind to a single object without discriminating the characteristics of dharmas, and there is one who discriminates the characteristics of dharmas without binding his mind to a single object; if one binds his mind to a single object without discriminating the characteristics of dharmas, then, upon entering the noble path, he is called a practitioner of calming; if one discriminates the characteristics of dharmas without binding his mind to a single object, then, upon entering the noble path, he is called a practitioner of insight. Further, one of sharp faculties is called a practitioner of insight, while one of dull faculties is called a practitioner of calming; and exactly as with sharp and dull faculties, so too should this be understood with respect to the power of causes and the power of conditions, the power of one's own internal disposition and the power of external factors, the power of correct internal reflection and the power of hearing another's voice externally. One asks: the substance of the realms of cutting-off, dispassion, and cessation is unconditioned, without cause and without effect — how, then, can it be said that one whose mind is cultivated by both calming and insight together attains liberation in dependence on the three realms? The answer: that sūtra, with respect to the resolute conviction that takes nirvāṇa as its object, speaks of it by the word "realm" — that is, although a practitioner, during his preparatory exertion, diligently and vigorously cultivates the two provisions of calming and insight, if he does not give rise to resolute conviction with respect to nirvāṇa, determined to advance toward its realization, then he will, in the end, be unable to cut off the afflictions or attain liberation of mind. It is for this reason that the resolute conviction taking nirvāṇa as its object is called "realm," and it is in dependence on this realm that mind attains liberation. As that sūtra relates, the venerable Ānanda then asked the elder named Nāmasthavira: through the cutting-off of what is it called the realm of cutting-off? Through the dispassion regarding what is it called the realm of dispassion? Through the cessation of what is it called the realm of cessation? The elder named Nāmasthavira said: it is through the cutting-off of all formations that it is called the realm of cutting-off; it is through the dispassion regarding all formations that it is called the realm of dispassion; it is through the cessation of all formations that it is called the realm of cessation. Having heard this, the venerable Ānanda joined his palms, rejoiced, praised him, and took his leave, then proceeded to the Bamboo Grove monastery and, with this same matter, questioned five hundred monks, who all likewise answered exactly as the elder named Nāmasthavira had. One asks: how did those monks answer? There are those who say: they answered in sequence from the youngest to the oldest, just as, at the time of the communal recitation, the youngest asks first. There are other masters who say: they answered in sequence from the oldest to the youngest, just as, in the distribution of alms, one proceeds from the eldest to the youngest.

There are yet others who say: one monk answered, and the rest all rejoiced in his answer. The Venerable Pārśva says: first the formal proposal was made, and then the counting-sticks were passed around; taking up a counting-stick constituted one's answer. As that sūtra relates, the venerable Ānanda, having heard this, joined his palms, rejoiced, and praised them, then took his leave and proceeded to where the Buddha was, and, upon arriving, bowed his head at the feet of the Blessed One, withdrew to one side, and questioned the Blessed One with this same matter, and the Buddha answered exactly as the elder and the rest had.

One asks: did the venerable Ānanda accept the meaning of what the elder and the five hundred monks had said, or not? Suppose either is granted — what fault would follow? If he accepted it, then why did he further put the question to the Blessed One? If he did not accept it, then why did he join his palms, rejoice, and praise it? The answer: Ānanda did accept the meaning of what they had said. One asks: then why did he further put the question to the Blessed One? The answer: just as the Blessed One, though already knowing, deliberately asked, so too did the venerable Ānanda do likewise. Why is this so? It is because Ānanda wished to make clear that, within the well-spoken Dharma, there is agreement in view and agreement in intent, and that its meaning is fixed and determined —

exactly as the Great Teacher himself has said: "so too is it with the assembly of followers; so too, as the preceptor has said, is it with the disciples; so too, as the instructor has said, is it with those receiving instruction" — that the meaning of such teaching is subtle and determined, and that, in dependence on it, one may cultivate practice and thereby, in the end, realize the fruit of arhatship, unlike the teachings of the heretical outsiders, where teacher and disciples, and the assembly and the rest, contradict one another at every turn, so that, in dependence on them, one cultivates practice in vain and realizes nothing at all. Further, Ānanda wished to seal the meaning that had been spoken with the Buddha's own excellent word, and it was for this reason that he asked the Buddha once more — for, were it not sealed with the Buddha's own excellent word, then the meaning spoken might still be shaken and overturned, and the fourfold assembly of the future would not revere and trust it, just as, in the writs of the ordinary world, if there is no royal seal, then people will not reverently accept what is proclaimed therein. The same holds true here as well, and it was for this reason that he asked the Buddha once more. As that sūtra relates, the Buddha asked Ānanda: do you know what virtues the elder and the five hundred monks possess? Ānanda said to the Buddha:

this elder and the five hundred monks are all arhats, whose contaminants are already exhausted, who have already cast off the heavy burden, who have exhausted every fetter of existence, who have attained their own true benefit, who have thoroughly accomplished the noble aim, and whose minds are well liberated. The Buddha said to Ānanda: it is exactly as you have said. One asks: why did the Blessed One ask about their virtues?

The answer: it was because he wished to bring to light the treasury of their true and genuine virtue, concealed as it was beneath their own contentment with few desires, so that the world might come to know it, revere and support them, and thereby obtain a superior fruit — just as, in the ordinary world, a buried treasure, though rich in precious things, remains hidden beneath sand and soil and cannot come to light, yet, if it is unearthed, it enables countless people to gather and make use of it, thereby obtaining worldly wealth and happiness. The same holds true here as well, and it was for this reason that the Buddha asked about it. Further, it was to awaken in donors a superior aspiration of their own — that is, there were donors who, with the four kinds of provisions such as robes and the rest, constantly made offerings to the elder and the five hundred monks, yet did not know that they possessed such superior virtue; the Buddha wished to cause them, once they knew of it, to rejoice and leap with joy, and to give rise to a superior aspiration of their own — thinking, "we have had the good fortune to encounter such a field of merit, and have already planted a wholesome seed there, and are certain, in a future life, to receive great happiness" — and it was for this reason that the Blessed One asked about their virtue. Further, it was in order to put a stop to a slanderous matter current in the world — that is, this elder had dwelt within his mother's womb for sixty years, and, once born, his form and countenance were already aged and worn, without any dignity or majesty, and it was for this reason that, from the moment of his birth, he was already given the name "Elder." Later, though he went forth from household life, he was mocked and derided, since even the young and vigorous, striving day and night, still find it difficult to attain the fruit — how much more so this aged one, his strength and vigor already spent, could he possibly attain the fruit? Further, this elder had brought across five hundred newly ordained monks, who had at first followed Devadatta, and people reviled him, saying: an old man such as this, greedily attached to fame and profit, brings across five hundred people merely to fill out his own following, to be driven and used in his own service, and is unable

to instruct and admonish them so as to lead them away from wrong teaching. These five hundred monks, having at first accepted a wrong conversion, later, though they returned to the right path and attained the fruit of arhatship, were nonetheless the object of a slanderous saying — namely, that these foolish people, having at first, out of greed for gain, abandoned the Buddha to follow the heretic, though they later returned, had in fact gained nothing thereby. It was in order to put a stop to slanders such as these that the Buddha asked about their virtue, causing the world to know together of it, to relinquish the offense of slander, and to diligently cultivate reverence and support, thereby, in a future life, being born among the gods and attaining liberation. Although that sūtra thus speaks of the three realms of cutting-off and the rest, it does not broadly discriminate the distinctions among the three realms. That sūtra is the fundamental basis upon which this treatise depends, and whatever it has left unexplained ought now to be discriminated fully, and it is for this reason that this treatise is composed.

What is the realm of cutting-off? The answer: the cutting-off of every fetter except the fetter of craving is called the realm of cutting-off. What is the realm of dispassion? The answer: the cutting-off of the fetter of craving is called the realm of dispassion. What is the realm of cessation? The answer: the cutting-off of every remaining dharma that accords with the fetters is called the realm of cessation. Here, first speaking with reference to the Abhidharma, this passage, according to the conventional principle, speaks of a distinction among the three realms, since their proximate antidotal paths differ. "The remaining fetters" refers to the remaining eight fetters; "the dharmas according with the fetters" refers to every contaminated dharma other than the nine fetters. This constitutes one kind of distinction among the three realms. There are other masters who say: if the eight fetters, together with what stands in association with them and what arises along with them, are cut off, this is called the realm of cutting-off; if the fetter of craving, together with what stands in association with it and what arises along with it, is cut off, this is called the realm of dispassion; if every remaining dharma according with the fetters, together with what stands in association with it and what arises along with it, is cut off, this is called the realm of cessation — and it is precisely contaminated wholesome dharmas and every conditioned, non-obstructive, indeterminate dharma that is called "a dharma according with the fetters."

There are yet other masters who say: if the fetter of ignorance is cut off, this is called the realm of cutting-off; if the fetter of craving is cut off, this is called the realm of dispassion; if every remaining fetter is cut off, this is called the realm of cessation. There are yet other masters who say: there exist certain dharmas that are able to bind but not able to defile — their cutting-off is called the realm of cutting-off; there exist certain dharmas that are able both to bind and to defile — their cutting-off is called the realm of dispassion; there exist certain dharmas that are neither able to bind nor able to defile, yet are themselves bound and are themselves defiled —

their cutting-off is called the realm of cessation. There are yet other masters who say: there exist certain dharmas that fetter but do not defile — their cutting-off is called the realm of cutting-off; there exist certain dharmas that both fetter and defile — their cutting-off is called the realm of dispassion; there exist certain dharmas that neither fetter nor defile, yet are themselves fettered and are themselves defiled — their cutting-off is called the realm of cessation. There are other masters who say: only the latent tendencies possess a cutting-off of their own inherent nature. One asks: how, then, is what the sūtra states to be reconciled? As it is stated: it is through the cutting-off of all formations that it is called the realm of cutting-off, through the dispassion regarding all formations that it is called the realm of dispassion, through the cessation of all formations that it is called the realm of cessation. And how is what the Prakaraṇapāda states to be reconciled? As it is stated: what is meant by "the dharmas to be abandoned"? The answer: all contaminated dharmas. What is meant by "the dharmas to be fully understood"? The answer: all contaminated dharmas. They give the following answer: if the latent tendencies arise taking the eight fetters as their object, their cutting-off is called the realm of cutting-off; if the latent tendencies arise taking the fetter of craving as their object, their cutting-off is called the realm of dispassion; if the latent tendencies arise taking any remaining dharma as their object, their cutting-off is called the realm of cessation. The verdict: this position ought not to be maintained, since every contaminated dharma, once bound, is itself cut off precisely at the moment its bondage is released. There are those who say: only the latent tendency of craving possesses a cutting-off of its own inherent nature. One asks: if so, then how is what the sūtra and the treatise state, as given above, to be reconciled? They give the following answer: if the latent tendency of craving arises taking the eight fetters as its object, its cutting-off is called the realm of cutting-off; if the latent tendency of craving arises taking the fetter of craving as its object, its cutting-off is called the realm of dispassion; if the latent tendency of craving arises taking any remaining dharma as its object, its cutting-off is called the realm of cessation. The verdict: this position, too, ought not to be maintained, since every contaminated dharma, once bound, is itself cut off precisely at the moment its bondage is released. The Venerable Ghoṣa states as follows: the cutting-off of affliction's own substance is called the realm of cutting-off; dispassion, in the sense of freedom from bondage with respect to one's object, is called the realm of dispassion; the relinquishing of every heavy burden is called the realm of cessation. The Venerable Pārśva says: the absence of bondage, through the stilling of bondage, is called the realm of cutting-off; the absence of defilement, through the stilling of defilement, is called the realm of dispassion; the absence of that dharma's own fruit, through the stilling of that fruit, is called the realm of cessation. The Venerable Śrīlāta states: the cutting-off of every affliction is called the realm of cutting-off; non-greed serving as the antidote to greed is called the realm of dispassion; the cessation of the fruit's own continuum is called the realm of cessation. The Venerable Vasudatta says as follows: it is through the cutting-off of the continuum that it is called the realm of cutting-off;

it is through freedom from bondage with respect to one's object that it is called the realm of dispassion; it is through departing from grasping that it is called the realm of cessation. There are yet other masters who say: it is through the cutting-off of past affliction that it is called the realm of cutting-off; it is through the cutting-off of present affliction that it is called the realm of dispassion; it is through the cutting-off of future affliction that it is called the realm of cessation, exactly as with the cutting-off of affliction, so too with the cutting-off of the aggregates. There are yet other masters who say: it is through the cutting-off of the feeling of suffering that it is called the realm of cutting-off; it is through the cutting-off of the feeling of pleasure that it is called the realm of dispassion; it is through the cutting-off of the feeling of neither suffering nor pleasure that it is called the realm of cessation, exactly as with the cutting-off of the three feelings, so too with the cutting-off of the dharmas according with the three feelings. There are yet other masters who say: if it is the suffering-of-suffering that is cut off, this is called the realm of cutting-off; if it is the suffering-of-decay that is cut off, this is called the realm of dispassion; if it is the suffering-of-conditioned-formations that is cut off, this is called the realm of cessation. There are yet other masters who say: if it is the desire realm that is cut off, this is called the realm of cutting-off; if it is the form realm that is cut off, this is called the realm of dispassion; if it is the formless realm that is cut off, this is called the realm of cessation. Explanations such as these all rely on convention, following one particular approach in distinguishing the three realms, and none of them expresses the ultimate meaning. One asks: is whatever belongs to the realm of cutting-off also the realm of dispassion? The answer: it is so. Suppose the realm of dispassion is the realm of cutting-off — is this so? The answer: it is so. Is whatever belongs to the realm of cutting-off also the realm of cessation? The answer: it is so. Suppose the realm of cessation is the realm of cutting-off — is this so? The answer: it is so. Is whatever belongs to the realm of dispassion also the realm of cessation? The answer: it is so. Suppose the realm of cessation is the realm of dispassion — is this so? The answer: it is so. One asks: why is this treatise composed? The answer: the earlier passage, following the Abhidharma and relying on conventional principle, distinguished the three realms in terms of their proximate antidote; this passage, following the sūtra instead, reveals that these three realms are, in substance, without any distinction whatsoever — that is, when a contaminated dharma is cut off, one and the same cutting-off is obtained in every case, and this single cutting-off, considered from the standpoint of its various distinctions, is spoken of as three realms — so that, although these three realms differ in meaning, they are, in substance, no different at all.

As the Blessed One has stated: "There are three notions — the notion of cutting-off, the notion of dispassion, and the notion of cessation," and so on, at length. One asks: why is this treatise composed?

The answer: it is composed in order to fully discriminate the meaning of this sūtra passage. That is, the sūtra states that there are three kinds of notion — cutting-off, dispassion, and cessation — yet, having said this much, does not discriminate it fully. That sūtra is the fundamental basis of this treatise, and whatever it has left unexplained is now to be stated, and it is for this reason that this treatise is composed. What is the notion of cutting-off? The answer: the liberation of notion through the cutting-off of every fetter except the fetter of craving is called the notion of cutting-off. What is the notion of dispassion? The answer: the liberation of notion through the cutting-off of the fetter of craving is called the notion of dispassion. What is the notion of cessation? The answer: the liberation of notion through the cutting-off of every remaining dharma according with the fetters is called the notion of cessation. This should be understood as broadly explained, exactly as with the realms above. One asks: why does this passage not state that the three notions are mutually inclusive of one another, exactly as the three realms above? The answer: this ought indeed to be stated, and that it is not so stated should be understood as a matter of surplus meaning left implicit. Further, this passage wishes to reveal a distinct characteristic through a distinct wording, since, when expressed through a distinct characteristic and a distinct wording, it is more easily retained in mind. Further, this passage wishes to display two approaches, two abridgments, two stages, two rungs, two lights, two torches, two brightnesses, two illuminations, two texts casting mutual reflection upon one another — just as the realms are mutually inclusive, so too, it should be understood, are the notions; and just as the notions are not mutually inclusive, so too, it should be understood, are the realms — and it is in order to cast this mutual reflection that the passage speaks as it does. One asks: is there, beyond the sixteen aspects, some further distinct uncontaminated wisdom, or not? Suppose either is granted — what fault would follow? If there is,

then why do the Vijñānakāya and the Jñānaprasthāna fail to mention it? If there is not, then how is what this passage states to be reconciled? As it is stated: what is the notion of cutting-off? The answer: the liberation of notion through the cutting-off of every fetter except the fetter of craving — and so on, at length. With which aspect of noble wisdom does this notion of cutting-off and the rest stand in association? And how is what the Prakaraṇapāda further states to be reconciled? As it is stated: what is the knowledge of exhaustion? It is the true knowledge that I have already known suffering, already cut off its origin, already realized its cessation, already cultivated the path. What is the knowledge of non-arising? It is the true knowledge that I have already known suffering and need not know it further, and so on, up through: I have already cultivated the path and need not cultivate it further. By which aspects are these two kinds of knowledge subsumed? And how is what the Saṅgītiparyāya further states to be reconciled? As it is stated: the true knowledge that I have already exhausted the contaminant of desire, the contaminant of existence, and the contaminant of ignorance is the knowledge of exhaustion; the knowledge that these will never again be exhausted is the knowledge of non-arising — by which aspects are these two kinds of knowledge subsumed? And how is what this treatise's own Chapter on Views further states to be reconciled? As it is stated: at the moment of experiencing a pleasant feeling, one truly knows that one experiences a pleasant feeling — by which aspect is this subsumed? And how is what the sūtra further states to be reconciled? As it is stated: one truly knows that one's own birth is already exhausted, the pure conduct already established, what was to be done already accomplished, and that one will not undergo any further existence — by which aspect is this subsumed? There are those who say: beyond the sixteen aspects, there exists no further, distinct uncontaminated wisdom — this is why the Vijñānakāya, this treatise, and the Jñānaprasthāna alike fail to mention its existence. One asks: how, then, is what is stated in this passage to be reconciled? As it is stated: what is the notion of cutting-off? — and so on, at length, down to: with which aspect of noble wisdom does this notion of cutting-off and the rest stand in association? The answer: this passage establishes the three notions with reference to their object, not with reference to their aspect, since all three notions alike form the four aspects that take cessation as their object — that is, it is called the notion of cutting-off because it takes cutting-off as its object, and not because it forms the aspect of cutting-off with respect to this cutting-off; the other two should be understood in exactly the same way. If this position is adopted, then these three notions are mutually inclusive of one another, exactly as the three realms above. One asks: how, then, is what the Prakaraṇapāda further states to be reconciled? As it is stated: what is the knowledge of exhaustion? — and so on, at length, down to: by which aspects are these two kinds of knowledge subsumed? The answer: the true knowledge that I have already known suffering and need not know it further is subsumed under the two aspects that take suffering as their object —

namely, impermanence and non-eternity. The true knowledge that I have already cut off its origin and need not cut it off further is subsumed under the four aspects that take origin as their object. The true knowledge that I have already realized its cessation and need not realize it further is subsumed under the four aspects that take cessation as their object. The true knowledge that I have already cultivated the path and need not cultivate it further is subsumed under the four aspects that take the path as their object. One asks: how is what the Saṅgītiparyāya further states to be reconciled? As it is stated: the true knowledge that I have already exhausted the contaminant of desire — and so on, at length, down to: by which aspects are these two kinds of knowledge subsumed? The answer: they are subsumed under six aspects — namely, impermanence and non-eternity, together with the four aspects that take origin as their object. One asks: how is what is stated in the Chapter on Views to be reconciled? As it is stated: at the moment of experiencing a pleasant feeling, one truly knows that one experiences a pleasant feeling — by which aspect is this subsumed? The answer: that passage, in speaking of "pleasant feeling," is in fact speaking of the noble path itself, and is thus subsumed under the four aspects that take the path as their object. One asks: how is what the sūtra states to be reconciled? As it is stated: one truly knows that one's own birth is already exhausted — and so on, at length, down to: by which aspect is this subsumed? The answer: "one truly knows that one's own birth is already exhausted" is subsumed under the four aspects that take origin as their object; "the pure conduct already established" is subsumed under the four aspects that take the path as their object; "what was to be done already accomplished" is subsumed under the four aspects that take cessation as their object; "one will not undergo any further existence" is subsumed under the two aspects that take suffering as their object — namely, impermanence and non-eternity. Further, on account of five conditions, the sūtra speaks in this way without mentioning any aspect. What are the five? First, on account of intention — that is, during one's preparatory exertion, one gives rise to this intention: how might I cause my own birth to be permanently exhausted? — and so on, at length, down to: I will not undergo any further existence. Second, on account of the antidote — that is, one cultivates such a superior antidote as to cause birth to be permanently exhausted — and so on, at length, down to: one will not undergo any further existence. Third, on account of what is accomplished — that is, through such a superior accomplishment, one causes birth to be permanently exhausted — and so on, at length, down to: one will not undergo any further existence. Fourth, on account of the continuum — that is, one obtains such a superior continuum as to cause birth to be permanently exhausted — and so on, at length, down to: one will not undergo any further existence. Fifth, on account of the person — that is, this person is one for whom the exhaustion of all birth is readily manifested, readily set forth — and so on, at length, down to: one will not undergo any further existence. On account of these five conditions, the sūtra thus speaks as it does, and it is not that there exists any further, distinct aspect of this kind. There are other masters who say:

beyond the sixteen aspects, there exists a further, distinct uncontaminated wisdom. One asks: if so, then why do the later passages, which reconcile so well with the Vijñānakāya and the Jñānaprasthāna, fail to mention it? The answer: this ought indeed to be stated, and that it is not so stated should be understood as a matter of surplus meaning left implicit. Further, if an aspect, once actually present and conjoined, is able to accomplish its function and possesses actual efficacy, then the Vijñānakāya and the Chapter on Views set it forth clearly; but this uncontaminated wisdom is never again to arise once its cultivation is complete in the future, and it is for this reason that it is not mentioned. Further, if an aspect is able to enter the path of seeing, attain the fruit, depart from defilement, and exhaust every contaminant, then the Vijñānakāya and the Chapter on Views set it forth clearly; but this wisdom possesses no such function, since this aspect arises manifestly only after the fruit of one beyond training — experiencing the ease of the present dharma, sporting in the supernormal faculties, contemplating what one has already accomplished, and making use of one's own noble wealth. Further, if an aspect can be obtained through the four paths of preparation, the uninterrupted path, the path of liberation, and the path of special advancement, then the Vijñānakāya and the Chapter on Views set it forth clearly; but these aspects arise manifestly only through the distant preparatory path and the distant path of special advancement, and it is for this reason that they are not mentioned. If this position is adopted — that, beyond the sixteen aspects, there exists an uncontaminated wisdom — then it is held that this passage, with reference to a distinction in aspect, establishes the three notions: the notion standing in association with the aspect of cutting-off is called the notion of cutting-off; the notion standing in association with the aspect of dispassion is called the notion of dispassion; the notion standing in association with the aspect of cessation is called the notion of cessation. These three notions, established through a distinction in aspect in this way, are not established with reference to their object — that is, with respect to one and the same unconditioned cessation, these three notions arise, just as three arrows, aimed at a single target, each strike it in a different way. According to this position, the notions of cutting-off and the rest are not mutually inclusive of one another. It ought to be said: is whatever belongs to the notion of cutting-off also the notion of dispassion? The answer: it is not so — and so on, at length, down to: suppose the notion of cessation is the notion of dispassion — is this so? The answer: it is not so. The verdict: it ought to be said that, beyond the sixteen aspects, there exists no further, distinct uncontaminated wisdom — this being the more excellent position in principle.

Yet this passage, in speaking of the notions of cutting-off and the rest, does so in this way: if they are uncontaminated, they are mutually inclusive of one another; if they are contaminated, they may indeed form the three aspects of cutting-off and the rest without being mutually inclusive — it is for this reason that this passage does not speak of the matter in a fixed and determined way.

Vibhāṣā, Miscellaneous Aggregates, Chapter One, the First Part of the Love-and-Respect Nyāsa "What is love? What is respect?" — such is the chapter, and the meaning of the chapter is thus explained. Having already grasped its sense, one ought now to set it forth fully. One asks: why is this treatise composed? The answer: it is composed in order to fully discriminate the meaning of this sūtra passage. That is, the sūtra states that if one has cultivated a perfect and complete sense of shame and moral dread, one should know that love and respect are likewise brought to perfection — yet, having said this much, the sūtra does not discriminate what is meant by "love" and what is meant by "respect." That sūtra is the fundamental basis upon which this treatise depends, and whatever it has left undiscriminated ought now to be discriminated fully. Further, this treatise is composed in order to disparage the dharma of one who is not a good person, causing it to be relinquished, and in order to praise the dharma of the good person, causing it to be cultivated, and in order to reveal that, at a time when the five corruptions are on the increase, sentient beings possessed of vast and expansive virtue are exceedingly difficult to find. Here, the dharma of one who is not a good person refers to a certain kind of person for whom love obstructs respect, and respect obstructs love. As for love obstructing respect: just as there are parents who dote extremely upon their child, so that the child has love for his parents but no respect — and it should be understood that the same holds between a teacher and his disciple — such cases are called "love obstructing respect." As for respect obstructing love: just as there are parents who are severe and harsh toward their child, so that the child has respect for his parents but no love — and it should be understood that the same holds between a teacher and his disciple — such cases are called "respect obstructing love." Both of these alike are called the dharma of one who is not a good person. The dharma of the good person, by contrast, refers to a certain kind of person for whom love adds to respect, and respect adds to love — love and respect proceeding together — this is called the dharma of the good person. If a person possesses this dharma in superior measure and perfect completeness, one should know that this is precisely a sentient being of vast and expansive virtue, and such a sentient being is exceedingly difficult to find — if the world is without a buddha, then beings of this kind are difficult to encounter at all; and, should such a being nonetheless appear, he is a great bodhisattva, since every great bodhisattva necessarily possesses both love and respect together.

It is in order to reveal this matter, together with the three reasons already stated above, that this treatise is composed.

What is love? The answer: whatever love, equal love, delight, equal delight, pleasure, and equal pleasure there may be — this is called love. This treatise's own author, being skilled in the various wordings of the meaning, expresses this love through a variety of wordings, though its substance is not thereby distinct. One asks: what does love take as its own nature? The answer: love is of two kinds — first, defiled, namely greed; second, undefiled, namely faith. One asks: is all greed love? The answer: this ought to be answered with an antecedent-following clause — that is, all greed is indeed love, yet there exists love that is not greed, namely, faith. One asks: is all faith love? There are those who say: all faith is love. There is love that is not faith, namely, defiled love. It should rather be said: faith is of two kinds — first, that which, with respect to its object, only trusts without seeking; second, that which, with respect to its object, both trusts and seeks. It is for this reason that four alternatives should here be formed: there is that which is faith but not love — namely, trust without seeking; there is that which is love but not faith —

namely, defiled love; there is that which is both faith and love — namely, trust together with seeking; there is that which is neither faith nor love — namely, whatever remains apart from the foregoing. What is respect? The answer: whatever respect there is, whatever possession of the characteristic of respect there is, whatever mastery there is, whatever possession of the characteristic of mastery there is — with respect to one who possesses such mastery, there arises a kind of awe — this is called respect. This treatise's own author, being skilled in the various wordings of the meaning, expresses this respect through a variety of wordings, though its substance is not thereby distinct.

One asks: what does respect take as its own nature? The answer: respect takes moral dread as its own nature.

What is love-and-respect? — and so on, at length. One asks: why is this treatise further composed? The answer: although the foregoing has already separately explained the inherent nature of love and of respect, it has not yet, taken together, explained their operation with respect to a single object; this treatise now wishes to reveal that these two, love and respect, operate together with respect to a single object, and it is for this reason that this treatise is composed. What is love-and-respect? The answer: if there is a certain kind of person who, toward the Buddha, the Dharma, the Saṅgha, his preceptor, his instructor, or any other wise and revered fellow practitioner of the pure conduct, dwells with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect — wherever there is, in such a case, both love and respect together — this is called love-and-respect. Here, "a certain kind" refers either to an ordinary being or to a noble one. An ordinary being who, toward the Buddha, dwells with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect thinks as follows: it is through the Buddha's own power that we are delivered from calamity and from servitude to kings, and from every manner of suffering affair, and that we obtain the various provisions for sustaining life in this world. A noble one who, toward the Buddha, dwells with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect thinks as follows: it is through the Buddha's own power that we have forever relinquished the causes of every evil destiny, cut off the twenty kinds of the view of a real self, attained the correct and determined view of the four noble truths, and, amid the boundless suffering of the cycle of birth and death, have already set our own bounds and limits.

Further, these two, whether ordinary being or noble one, who, toward the Buddha, dwell with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect, both alike think as follows: it is through the Buddha's own power that we have gone forth from household life, received the full precepts, obtained the status of a monk, and every other benefit and provision of ease — and it is for this reason that the Venerable Udāyin has said: the Blessed One holds great kindness and virtue toward me, having drawn out my boundless suffering, given me boundless happiness, extinguished my boundless evil, and given rise in me to boundless goodness. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: the Blessed One has opened for us the eye of wisdom, and it is for this reason that we ought to love and respect him — and it is for this reason that the Venerable Śāriputra has said: had the Blessed One not appeared in the world, we should all have been born blind and died blind. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: the Buddha, as the King of the Dharma, was the very first to open and reveal the unsurpassed true Dharma, causing all sentient beings to understand it without any distortion — defilement and purification, bondage and liberation, the turning cycle and the ending of the cycle of birth and death and nirvāṇa — and no other has this capacity, and it is for this reason that he ought to be loved and respected. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: the Blessed One was the very first to emerge from the eggshell of ignorance and to proclaim the true Dharma, thereby causing countless and boundless sentient beings likewise to emerge from the eggshell of ignorance — and no other has this capacity, and it is for this reason that he ought to be loved and respected. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: since beginningless time, the seven surpassing concentrations have remained hidden and have not manifested; the Buddha, appearing in the world, without any distortion, revealed and opened them, causing countless multitudes, in dependence on them, to advance and enter the palace of great nirvāṇa — and no other has this capacity, and it is for this reason that he ought to be loved and respected. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: it is through the Buddha's own power that countless and boundless sentient beings are able to cultivate every wholesome dharma, ranging from the contemplation of impurity up through the knowledge of non-arising — and no other has this power, and it is for this reason that he ought to be loved and respected. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: it is through the Buddha's own power that sentient beings plant every wholesome root and bring it to maturity and liberation — and no other has this power, and it is for this reason that he ought to be loved and respected. Further, these two, with respect to the Buddha, both alike think as follows: it is through the Buddha's own power that the establishments of mindfulness, the right efforts, the bases of supernormal power, the faculties, the powers, the limbs of enlightenment, the limbs of the path, and the thirty-seven kinds of treasury of the virtue of enlightenment have come to appear in the world, bringing benefit and ease to boundless sentient beings, and it is for this reason that he ought to be loved and respected. These two, with respect to the Dharma, who dwell with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect, both alike think as follows:

it is in dependence on this Dharma that we are liberated from every suffering of body and mind, and attain ultimate ease. These two, with respect to the Saṅgha, who dwell with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect, both alike think as follows:

it is through the Saṅgha's own power that we, with pure faith, went forth from household life within the true Dharma and vinaya, received the full precepts, obtained the status of a monk, are able correctly to uphold the hundred-and-one formal procedures, dwell in ease without any transgression, and, by this means, swiftly realize ultimate nirvāṇa.

These two, with respect to their preceptor, their instructor, and every other wise and revered fellow practitioner of the pure conduct, who dwell with delight, joy of mind, and reverent respect, think as follows: these teachers and friends are our own companions, causing us diligently to cultivate correct practice within the Dharma and swiftly to bring it to accomplishment.

It is with respect to these superior objects already spoken of above — the Three Jewels, and one's teachers and friends — that love and respect both arise together; in every other case, this is not fixed, and four alternatives should here be formed: there is an object with respect to which love, but not respect, arises — as with parents toward their child, or a teacher toward his disciple; there is an object with respect to which respect, but not love, arises — as with one of virtue who is not one's own teacher or elder; there is an object with respect to which both love and respect arise — as with a certain kind of child toward his parents, or a disciple toward his teacher; there is an object with respect to which neither love nor respect arises — namely, whatever remains apart from the foregoing. One asks: in what place does such love-and-respect exist? The answer: although it may, in principle, be found across all three realms and the five destinies, this passage speaks of a superior love-and-respect that exists only within the human destiny of the desire realm, and nowhere else; this love-and-respect exists only within the Buddha's own teaching.

What is offering, and so on, at length? One asks: why is this treatise composed? The answer: it is composed in order to fully discriminate the meaning of this sūtra passage. That is, the sūtra states:

"Toward the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Saṅgha, and toward the precepts one has received, one who is able to offer and to revere is rightly called a person of wisdom. Toward diligence, and toward superior states of concentration, one who is able to offer and to revere never falls back, and draws near to nirvāṇa" — yet, having said this much, the sūtra does not discriminate fully what is meant by "offering," and what is meant by "reverence." That sūtra is the fundamental basis upon which this treatise depends, and whatever it has left unstated ought now to be stated. Further, this treatise is composed in order to disparage the dharma of one who is not a good person, causing it to be relinquished, and in order to praise the dharma of the good person, causing it to be cultivated, and in order to reveal that, at a time when the five corruptions are on the increase, sentient beings possessed of vast and expansive virtue are exceedingly difficult to find. Here, the dharma of one who is not a good person refers to a certain kind of person for whom offering obstructs reverence, and reverence obstructs offering. As for offering obstructing reverence: as when, among householders, there is a son or daughter who, though possessing the strength and means to offer their parents various provisions and delicacies to sustain their life, nonetheless, relying on this strength, gives rise to a disdainful contempt toward them; or as when, among those who have gone forth, there is a disciple of great learning and virtue who, though able to offer his teacher various provisions of wealth and Dharma, nonetheless, relying on this act, fails to give rise to reverence toward his teacher — such offering is said to obstruct reverence. As for reverence obstructing offering: as when there is a certain kind of person who, fearing another's authority and power, reveres him yet does not make him any offering —

both of these alike are called the dharma of one who is not a good person. The dharma of the good person, by contrast, refers to a certain kind of person for whom, if he makes an offering to another, he thereby also shows him reverence, and if he shows another reverence, he thereby also makes him an offering — the two proceeding together — this is called the dharma of the good person. If a person possesses this dharma in superior measure and perfect completeness, one should know that this is precisely a sentient being of vast and expansive virtue, and such a sentient being is exceedingly difficult to find — if the world is without a buddha, then beings of this kind are difficult to encounter at all; and, should such a being nonetheless appear, he is a great bodhisattva, since every great bodhisattva necessarily possesses these two together. It is in order to reveal this matter, together with the three reasons already stated above, that this treatise is composed.

What is offering? The answer: this is of two kinds — first, material offering; second, Dharma offering. As for material offering: one asks, what does material offering take as its own nature? There are those who say: it is the relinquishing of one's own material goods for the sake of another's benefit — the very goods thus relinquished constitute its own nature. There are other masters who say: it is the two kinds of karma, bodily and verbal, belonging to the one who makes the offering, that constitute its own nature. There are others who say: it is precisely the mind and mental factors that give rise to that bodily and verbal action which constitute its own nature. There are yet others who say: it is the growth and increase of the recipient's own faculties, great elements, and derivative form, once he has received the offering and made use of it, that constitute its own nature.

The verdict: it ought to be said that the goods relinquished, the bodily and verbal karma of the one who relinquishes them, the mind and mental factors that give rise to these, and the growth and increase in the recipient's faculties, great elements, and derivative form once he has received and made use of the offering — all of these together constitute this nature. Material offering, in this way, in its totality makes use of the five aggregates as its own nature. Its own nature having now been explained, the reason for this shall now be stated. One asks: why is it called "material offering"? What is the meaning of "material offering"? The answer: serving as a condition constitutes the meaning of "offering"; this is called "material" because it begins with material goods, and it is for this reason that it is called "material offering." If, for the sake of another's benefit, one relinquishes one's material goods, and the recipient, having received them and made use of them, thereby gains an increase of body and mind, then this is called both giving and offering. If, for the sake of another's benefit, one relinquishes one's material goods, and the recipient, having received them and made use of them, thereby suffers a diminishment of body and mind, then this is called giving but is not called offering. If, for the sake of harming another, one relinquishes an unsuitable object, and the recipient, having received it, through some supernormal power, or through a charm or medicine, or through the power of his own merit, gains an increase of body and mind, then this, though not a case of giving, is nonetheless called offering. If, for the sake of harming another, one relinquishes an unsuitable object, and the recipient, having received it, suffers a diminishment of body and mind, then this is called neither giving nor offering. One asks: in what place does this material offering exist? The answer: only within the desire realm, not within the form or formless realms, and only among the four destinies, not within the hells. One asks: who sets forth this material offering, and who receives it? There are those who say: the animal destiny sets it forth, and only the animal destiny receives it — and so on, up through: the destiny of the gods sets it forth, and only the destiny of the gods receives it. There are other masters who say: the animal destiny sets it forth,

and only the animal destiny receives it; the destiny of hungry ghosts sets it forth, and two destinies receive it; the human destiny sets it forth, and three destinies receive it; the destiny of the gods sets it forth, and four destinies receive it — the lower does not extend to the higher, but the higher does extend to the lower. The verdict: it ought to be said that all four destinies alike are able to make offerings to one another in turn. One asks: the Prajñaptiśāstra states that, when the gods wish to eat, they take up an empty jeweled vessel, cover it with a cloth, and set it before their seat, and, after a brief moment, delicious food naturally fills it according to the power of their own merit — if this is so, then how do they receive offerings from others? The answer: although they do not receive the offering of food and drink from others, they nonetheless do receive other offerings of incense, flowers, and provisions. As for Dharma offering: one asks, what does Dharma offering take as its own nature? There are those who say: it is the very speech of the one who expounds the Dharma that constitutes its own nature. There are other masters who say: it is what arises from that speech that constitutes its own nature. There are others who say: it is the mind and mental factors that give rise to that speech that constitute its own nature. There are yet others who say: it is the unprecedented, skillful understanding that arises in the listener, once he has heard the Dharma, that constitutes its own nature.

The verdict: it ought to be said that the speech of the one who expounds the Dharma, the mind and mental factors that give rise to that speech, and the unprecedented, skillful understanding that arises in the one who, having heard it, gains such understanding — all of these together constitute this nature. Dharma offering, in this way, in its totality makes use of the five aggregates as its own nature. Its own nature having now been explained, the reason for this shall now be stated. One asks: why is it called "Dharma offering"? What is the meaning of "Dharma offering"? The answer: serving as a condition constitutes the meaning of "offering"; this is called "Dharma" because it begins with the Dharma, and it is for this reason that it is called "Dharma offering." If, for the sake of another's benefit, one expounds the Dharma to him, and he, having heard the Dharma, gives rise to an unprecedented, skillful understanding, then this is called both giving and offering. If, for the sake of another's benefit, one expounds the Dharma to him, and

he, having heard the Dharma, does not give rise to any unprecedented, skillful understanding, then this is called giving but is not called offering. If, for the sake of harming another, one expounds his faults and mocks his teaching, and he, having heard this, abides in correct mindfulness, receives it with joyful forbearance, does not dwell on the other's fault, and gives rise to an unprecedented, skillful understanding, then this, though not a case of giving, is nonetheless called offering. If, for the sake of harming another, one expounds his faults and mocks his teaching, and he, having heard this, gives rise to a mind of resentment and hatred, and does not give rise to any unprecedented, skillful understanding, then this is called neither giving nor offering. One asks: in what place does this Dharma offering exist? The answer: this Dharma offering exists within the desire and form realms, not within the formless realm, and is found among all five destinies. That it exists in the hells is exemplified by the case of the son of Maitrāyaṇī, who, born in the hells, while in what appeared to be a bathhouse and seeing the instruments of torment there, spoke the following verse: "I have heard that the suffering and pleasure sentient beings undergo in the world are made neither by oneself nor by another; every suffering and pleasure one undergoes arises always in dependence on the body — when the body perishes, there is no one left to undergo it any further." At that time, countless beings in that hell, having heard this verse, were freed from the suffering of hell, and, upon the ending of their lives there, were born among the gods and received happiness. That it exists among animals is exemplified by the kalaviṅka bird, which, cultivating the pure conduct on its own, expounded the Dharma to others as well. That it exists among hungry ghosts is exemplified by the hungry-ghost mother named Priyaṅkarā, who, for the sake of her ghost-children, spoke the following verse:

"Be still, you who are of superior birth; be still, you who dwell by the well. When I attain the seeing of the truth, I shall cause you, too, to see it." That it exists among human beings is exemplified by what may be directly observed even now. That it exists among the gods is exemplified, within the desire realm, by the Compassionate One, the future Buddha yet to fill his place, who expounds the Dharma for the gods; and, within the form realm, by the case of the god-son Hasta, who came and said to the Buddha: "just as the Blessed One is now, surrounded by the fourfold assembly, expounding the true Dharma, which they hear and put into practice, so too, having heard the Dharma, I returned to the heaven of no affliction and expounded the Dharma likewise for those gods there." One asks: who sets forth this Dharma offering, and who receives it? There are those who say: the hell destiny sets it forth, and only the hell destiny receives it — and so on, up through: only the destiny of the gods sets it forth, and only the destiny of the gods receives it. There are other masters who say: the hell destiny sets it forth, and only the hell destiny receives it; the animal destiny sets it forth, and two destinies receive it; the hungry-ghost destiny sets it forth, and three destinies receive it;

the human destiny sets it forth, and four destinies receive it; the destiny of the gods sets it forth, and five destinies receive it. The verdict: it ought to be said that all five destinies alike are able to make offerings to one another in turn. What is respect? The answer: whatever respect there is, whatever possession of the characteristic of respect there is, whatever mastery there is, whatever possession of the characteristic of mastery there is — with respect to one who possesses such mastery, there arises a kind of awe — this is called respect. This treatise's own author, being skilled in the various wordings of the meaning, expresses respect through a variety of wordings, though its substance is not thereby distinct; respect, too, takes moral dread as its own nature.