Apparent Extinction, Never Extinct

Commentary on the Sūtra of the Lotus Blossom of the Wondrous Dharma, Fascicle Nine, Upper Part. Spoken by the Great Master Zhiyi of Tiantai. The text on "neither distance nor nearness" has three parts: first, setting forth the object and the wisdom that knows it together as a whole; second, explaining each in turn; third, concluding the discussion. "Contemplating" means the contemplative wisdom of the middle way; "all dharmas" means the objective realm of the ten dharma-realms. If wisdom alone were spoken of, wisdom would have nothing to contemplate — hence "all" is raised up, so as to show that everything, without exception, is empty. From "true" onward is the explanation given in turn. That the two extremes and the three truths carry no difference between them is named "true"; that this lies beyond the reach of the seven kinds of expedient practitioners is named "reality"; and it is because reality itself serves as the very mark that it is called "the true mark of reality." "Undistorted" means free of the eight distortions. "Unmoved" means not moved by the two kinds of birth-and-death. "Never turning back" means that, thought after thought, in utter quiescence, one flows into the ocean of omniscience. "Unchanging" means not subject to change as an ordinary worldling changes through birth-and-death, nor as the two lesser vehicles change from the ordinary to the sagely. "Like empty space" means that it possesses only a name, and even this name cannot be grasped — the contemplative wisdom of the middle way, too, possesses only a name, which likewise cannot be found however one searches for it. "Without any nature of its own being" means it possesses no nature of self, of other, of both together, or of no cause at all.

"Every path of language is cut off" means it is inconceivable. "Unborn" means that affliction, wisdom, and principle alike are, none of them, ever born. "Unemergent" means that what the Tathāgata has already remedied never arises again to the very end. "Unarisen" means that every expedient means has already come to quiescent rest. "Nameless" means that no name is able to name it. "Markless" means that no mark is able to mark it.

"Without anything at all" means without the being of either of the two extremes. "Immeasurable" means it is not a dharma subject to number. "Boundless" means it has no location, no direction. "Unhindered, unobstructed" means it pervades every place without exception. "Only through causes and conditions does it have being" concludes the passage. Above, the text made clear directly the contemplative wisdom of the middle way; here it makes clear the illumining of both extremes at once — the nature of principle is, in the end, pure exactly as described above, neither an understanding nor a delusion, and yet from the causes and conditions of delusion, birth-and-death is produced, while from the causes and conditions of understanding, nirvāṇa is produced. Again, having being through causes and conditions is having being with regard to nirvāṇa, while what is produced from distorted views is produced with regard to birth-and-death — and this is precisely where the meaning of illumining both at once is disclosed. "Constantly and joyfully contemplating dharmas such as these" refers to the dharmas of the three truths and their like. And again, "only through causes and conditions does it have being, and it is produced from distorted views" concludes the discussion of the object of the inconceivable three truths. "And so it is taught" refers to the inconceivable teaching. "Constantly and joyfully contemplating" concludes the discussion of the inconceivable threefold contemplation. Furthermore, "contemplating the emptiness of all dharmas, their true mark of reality" sets forth the essence of the contemplation, while the nine phrases from "undistorted" onward explain the mark of the contemplation. Not being moved by the two extremes or the eight distortions is named "undistorted, unmoved"; not falling into either of the two stages of the two lesser vehicles or of the ordinary worldling is why it says "never turning back, unchanging."

These two phrases make clear the working of wisdom with regard to principle. Not being of the future is why it is unborn; not being of the past is why it is unemergent; not being of the present is why it is unarisen. The Treatise, fascicle fifty-one, says: "Like empty space, it carries no mark of entering, of emerging, or of abiding" — and the Compendium of the Great Vehicle says the same: there is no place of entering belonging to the future, no place of emerging belonging to the past, and no place of abiding belonging to the present. Its fascicle forty-three says: "Not arising with regard to cause is named unemergent; not arising with regard to condition is named unborn." In all, this passage carries nineteen phrases: the first is a summary statement, and the remaining eighteen correspond, one by one, to the eighteen kinds of emptiness of the Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra. "The true mark of reality" is precisely the emptiness of ultimate meaning. "Undistorted" is precisely internal emptiness, for within there is no six sense-gates, no self, and nothing belonging to self. "Undistorted, unmoved" is precisely external emptiness, for without, one is not swept along by the six sense-objects. "Never turning back" is precisely internal-and-external emptiness, since the twelve sense-fields are themselves empty, and hence it says "never turning back." "Unchanging" is precisely the emptiness of emptiness: emptiness itself breaks apart every dharma, every dharma being what is broken and emptiness being what does the breaking, so that no dharma remains and only emptiness itself is left — and yet this very emptiness, too, is itself empty, and this is why it is called "the emptiness of emptiness"; and since emptiness is itself empty, there remains nothing left that could still be changed, which is why it says "unchanging." "Like empty space" is precisely great emptiness, since it breaks apart even the clinging to spatial direction, and this is why it says "like empty space." "Without any nature of its own being" is precisely ultimate emptiness, since no dharma leaves anything whatsoever remaining, which is why it is named ultimate emptiness — and it is precisely because of this ultimate emptiness that it is "without any nature of its own being." "Every path of language is cut off" is precisely the emptiness of all dharmas, since the emptiness of all things cannot be spoken of, and this is why every path of language is cut off. "Unborn" is precisely the emptiness of the conditioned, since the conditioned is what arises from the coming together of causes and conditions, and, this coming-together no longer occurring, it is unborn; "unemergent" is precisely the emptiness of the unconditioned, for release is what is meant by "namelessness," and it is because this very release is itself empty of any dharma that it is named "unemergent." "Unarisen" is precisely the emptiness without beginning, since no origin can ever be found however one searches for it, and this is why there is no arising. "Nameless" is precisely the emptiness of inherent nature, which may be readily understood; "markless" is precisely the emptiness of specific marks. "In truth, without anything at all" is precisely the emptiness of the unattainable. "Immeasurable" is precisely the emptiness of what has dharmas, since to have dharmas is to have measure, and, this very measure being empty, it is called immeasurable; "boundless" is precisely the emptiness of what has no dharmas, since to have no dharmas would itself mark out a limit — yet, this too being empty, there is then no boundary and no hindrance, and this, then, is precisely the emptiness both of what has dharmas and of what has none, for neither of the two can ever be attained, which is why it says "unhindered." "Unobstructed" is precisely the emptiness of dispersal, since no obstacle or hindrance can ever be attained, which is why it says "unobstructed." All eighteen kinds of emptiness are none other than the correct wisdom of the middle way, and every one of them is named "emptiness" — it is only because they follow eighteen distinct objects that they are spoken of as eighteen in number. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says, "because the Tathāgata constantly cultivates the meaning of the eighteen kinds of emptiness" — and this is why the eighteen kinds of emptiness are used here, used to explain these eighteen phrases.

The verse section has twenty-eight lines and three further half-lines, and forms three parts: the first line versifies the setting-forth of the section; the next twenty-two lines versify the cultivation of the practice; and the final five lines and three half-lines make clear the accomplishment of the practice. Where the prose section explained the practice-ground and the approach-ground each in turn, the verse section versifies them together in combination — the exact wording differs, but the meaning is the same, opening and combining each disclosing the other in turn, and the fuller and the more concise explanations may each still be relied upon. Above, the two prose sections on the practice-ground and the approach-ground each had three parts of their own; here the verse versifies them together in combination, no longer in the same sequence. First, the fourteen lines from "one should enter into the practice" onward versify the phenomenal aspect of distance and nearness. Above there were ten things to keep at a distance; within the verse these are given briefly and out of sequence, as may be seen from the text itself. This, too, versifies the practice-ground in terms of the emptiness of person, and, taking the sense of it, versifies together as well all three senses of the approach-ground — hence the verse says, "this, then, is what is meant by the practice-ground and the approach-ground." As for "constantly keeping at a distance from kings": a monk who draws near to a king risks ten improprieties: first, plotting against the king's own life; second, the king's own execution of a minister; third, the keeper of the treasury losing its jewels; fourth, a palace woman becoming pregnant; fifth, poison being found within the king's own body; sixth, ministers contending and quarreling; seventh, two kingdoms going to war; eighth, the king being stingy, giving nothing to his people; ninth, the seizing of the people's own goods; and tenth, an abundance of plague and pestilence, said to be the monk's own doing through the working of spells. Should any of these ten things occur, every minister and commoner will say that it was the monk's own doing, and, raising this slander against the monk, will thereby slander the Dharma as well, and slander the Buddha besides — and this is why the Buddha does not allow a monk to draw near to a king. As for "the brahmin followers of non-Buddhist paths": the Mātaṅga Sūtra says: "The first man was named Brahmā, who composed a single Veda. The next was named Śuddha, 'the pure and white one,' who transformed this one Veda into four: the first named the Veda of Praise and Recitation, the second the Veda of Sacrifice, the third the Veda of Song, and the fourth the Veda of Averting Calamity — each of these, thirty-two myriad verses in length, together making a hundred and twenty-eight myriad verses in all, comprising one thousand seven hundred fascicles.

Next was one named Puṣya, who had twenty-five disciples, each able to broadly distinguish a single Veda, and so there came to be twenty-five Vedas. Next there was one named Parrot, who transformed a single Veda into eighteen. Next there was one named Good Path, who had twenty-one disciples, and transformed the Veda into twenty-one. In this way, passed down and transformed generation after generation, it became one thousand two hundred and six Vedas." Vyākhyāna, here translated "treatise of wisdom," composed by Vyāsa, is of four kinds in all: first, the Veda of Faith's Power, teaching the fire-rite that extinguishes transgression; second, the Veda of Rightful Receiving, teaching that making offerings to brahmins wins merit; third, the Sāman Veda, teaching the harmonizing of two kingdoms; and fourth, the Atharva Veda, teaching warfare. One who has studied all four of these treatises calls himself a man of all-knowing wisdom. Vyākaraṇa, here named "treatise of records," composed by Pāṇini, sets forth every kind of scripture and every manner of miscellaneous discourse. The Vaiśeṣika treatise, composed by Ulūka, is here translated "the most excellent"; it arose eight hundred years after the Buddha, and expounds six categories. Kapila, here translated "Tawny-Head," also called "Tortoise-Seed," composed the treatise named Sāṃkhya — Sāṃkhya here translated "peerless" — and, the treatise being named for the man, it is spoken of as Kapila's own; it expounds twenty-five categories. As for "students of the Tripiṭaka of the lesser vehicle": while the Buddha was at Vārāṇasī, he first taught the sūtra-basket to the five ascetics; while the Buddha was at Rājagṛha, he first taught the vinaya-basket to Sudinna; while the Buddha was at the Monkey Pond of Vaiśālī, he first taught the abhidharma-basket to a son of the Vṛjis. Five hundred arhats, in the first watch of the night, compiled the abhidharma-basket together with the Sūtra of Successive Liberations — and this constitutes the study of the Tripiṭaka.

"Deeply attached to the five desires": as for the mark of desire, human beings of the four continents, dragons, asuras, and the Four Heavenly Kings all consummate desire through the joining of the sense-organs; the Trāyastriṃśa heaven takes wind as its consummation; the Yāma heaven, mutual nearness; the Tuṣita heaven, mutual grasping of hands; the Nirmāṇarati heaven, mutual gazing; and the Paranirmita-vaśavartin heaven, a mere thought arising in the mind — while the heavens above these are all free of desire altogether. As for "widows and unmarried women": Ānanda once asked the Buddha, "After the Tathāgata's own extinction, how should one look upon women?" The Buddha said: "Do not look upon them; and should you happen to see one, do not speak with her; and should you happen to speak with her, then fix your mind wholly on mindfulness of the Buddha." As for "and every eunuch": these are called paṇḍakas, here translated "yellow gate" — a "yellow gate" being one who, though possessed of a male or female form, is capable of neither. As for "entering the village to beg for alms": the Saṃyukta Āgama says: "There was once a sheep that went to a dung-heap and ate its fill, then returned to the flock, boasting of its own fine meal — and a monk may be exactly the same: once he has obtained the four requisites, he gives rise to defiled, craving thoughts and does not know the way of release; and if he fails to obtain them, he forever longs for them, while if he does obtain them, he boasts before the other monks and disparages everyone else, saying, 'I have obtained what others could not' — this is what is called 'the sheep-monk's way of begging.' When the lion king encounters a great beast, he devours it, feeling neither relish nor attachment; and when he obtains a small beast, he devours it as well, feeling neither disdain nor contempt — a monk should be exactly the same: having obtained the offering of the four requisites, he gives rise to no defiled attachment and no craving thought, himself knowing the way of release; and should he fail to obtain any benefit, he gives rise to no disordered thought and no mind of increase or decrease — this is what is called 'the lion-king monk's way of begging.'" Begging for alms, traveling on errands, and illness are the four matters, and, morning and evening across eight periods, this discourse makes clear eight kinds of diligence and eight kinds of laziness. Before begging for alms, one should reflect: "I do this to sustain my practice of the path, healing the wound of hunger" — and even should one's begging go unrewarded, one should not thereby abandon mindful practice; and once one has received alms, one should be mindful of the path in gratitude and never let this lapse — in both these periods, morning and evening, diligence is doubled. The remaining three matters, morning and evening, are likewise so; the reverse of this is what is called the eight kinds of laziness. The Ratnamegha Sūtra makes clear that alms received in begging should be divided into four parts: one part offered to those who share the pure conduct, one part given to beggars, one part offered to spirits, and one part kept for oneself.

From "and again, neither doing" onward is, second, eight lines, versifying the principled distance and nearness of "neither distance nor nearness."

From "if there is a monk" onward is, third, five lines and three half-lines, making clear the accomplishment of the practice, and this itself has three parts: the first, one line and a half, sets forth the accomplishment of the practice — accomplished in phenomenal conduct, one's outward bearing suffers no fault; accomplished in principle, one's inward mind meets no obstruction; and this is why it says "without timidity." Next, from "the bodhisattva at times" onward is, second, three lines, on the practice's accomplishment bringing about peace and bliss. Last, one line and one half-line versify the prose section's overall conclusion. From "the bodhisattva enters a quiet chamber" onward explains the cause of this peace and bliss: through cultivating meditative concentration, one brings wrongdoing to rest, and, attaining the selflessness of the person, one suffers no harm from without; through cultivating wisdom, one departs from every clinging attachment, and, attaining the selflessness of dharmas, one is free of distortion within — and this, then, is a mind without timidity, and being without timidity is what is meant by "peace and bliss." From "Mañjuśrī" onward is, third, one line and one half-line, versifying the prose section's overall conclusion.

Second, the speech peaceful practice likewise has both a prose section and a verse section. The prose has two parts: first, setting forth the section; second, explaining the method of the practice. The setting-forth of the section may be understood from the text itself. From "if one proclaims with the mouth" onward explains the method of the practice, which itself has two parts: namely, the practice of calming and the practice of contemplation.

The practice of calming has four aspects: first, not speaking of others' faults; second, not treating others with contempt; third, not praising or disparaging; and fourth, not harboring resentment or aversion. First, as to not delighting in speaking of the faults found in others' scriptures: a person may have faults in what he has heard, but what fault could the Dharma itself possess? The dharmas of the seven kinds of expedient means are the Buddha's own words spoken to accord with others' capacities, and are named "of provisional meaning" — and to fault their dharma would be to trouble the very people who hold them, which is not the mark of the peaceful practice at all. Second, as to "nor treating others with contempt": one should not, relying on the perfect teaching, disparage the partial teachings, nor prize the real while slighting the provisional. Third, as to not speaking of others' merits and faults: this first forbids speaking of any person whatsoever, and next singles out the śrāvakas in particular. A person hates to hear his own faults spoken aloud, and so one does not discourse on his shortcomings; and to praise a person to his face while disparaging him behind his back is why one does not proclaim his merits either; nor should one, in speaking to one person, praise a second in order to mock the first, since to praise another's merit is thereby to needle at one's own shortcoming, using the one to satirize the other; nor should one, in speaking to one person, disparage a second, since to speak ill of one behind his back is likewise to speak ill of oneself behind one's own back — and it is for this reason that both praise and blame alike are to be set aside. Again, as to "not speaking of others' merits and faults": the Sūryagarbha [Sūtra], fascicle one, says: "In the early, middle, and later watches of the night, curtail one's sleep; diligently sit in meditation, recite the sūtras, and cultivate the path; turn one's back on birth-and-death and set one's face toward the road of nirvāṇa; do not proclaim others' shortcomings nor speak of one's own merits; be humble and self-effacing, never proud or arrogant; be content with one's food and clothing, diligent in the dhūta austerities, never given to heedless conduct; hold one's thoughts fixed in contemplation, the mind never running loose; and give rise to a mind of loving-kindness and compassion toward every sentient being." And again, just as the sūtras speak of the practice of emptiness: one reads and recites it oneself, and teaches others to read and recite it, without slandering others, without speaking of others' faults, and without praising one's own merits. As for the śrāvakas, their capacities, too, are not fixed: to praise the two lesser vehicles risks causing them to retreat from the great vehicle and take hold of the small; while to disparage the two lesser vehicles risks causing them to lose both great and small alike, grasping neither. Fourth, as to "not giving rise to a mind of resentment or aversion": to think that a certain person's dharma obstructs one's own path is precisely a mind of resentment, and to think him base and inferior is precisely a mind of aversion — the moment such a motive stirs in the mind, it is voiced aloud at once, and it is by blocking off the very source from which fault-finding speech arises that one gives rise to no resentment or aversion.

From "skillfully cultivating in this way" onward is the gateway of the practice of contemplation. Contemplating the emptiness of every dharma, one takes hold of and clings to nothing, one's mind holding to no rigid grasping; not contrary to others' intent, and not at odds with the true mark of dharmas, one then does not answer with the teaching of the lesser vehicle. As to "answering only by means of the great vehicle": if one discerns that a person has no capacity for the great vehicle and yet teaches the lesser vehicle, one may gain the benefit of a skillful means; but if one fails to discern that he has no such capacity and yet teaches the lesser vehicle, one obstructs his connection to the great vehicle — since in either case one has failed to discern it truly, teaching only the great vehicle throughout carries no fault.

The verse section has sixteen lines and a half, and forms three parts: the first two lines versify the setting-forth of the section; the next nine lines and a half versify the method of practice given above; and the last five lines make clear the accomplishment of the practice. The first two lines versify the "abiding in the peaceful practice" spoken of above: above, this abiding was named only as a whole, while within the verse its marks are set forth individually. These marks are three: "expounding the Dharma in security and peace," half a line, wishing to cause one's listener to attain the security and peace of the path and its fruit — this is the meaning of entering the room; "the ground of purity," and so on, half a line — this is the meaning of sitting in the seat; "anointing the body with oil," and so on, one full line — this is the meaning of being clothed in the robe. These three dharmas, guiding the karmic action of speech, are what is named the peaceful practice. From "abiding securely in the Dharma-seat" onward, nine lines and a half, versify the practice itself, and form two parts: the first, five lines and a half, versify the practice of calming; the next, four lines, versify the practice of contemplation. The practice of calming above had four aspects, and here all four are fully versified.

The first, "answering according to whatever is asked," half a line, versifies "not treating others with contempt" — for contempt would mean not following the question asked. From "if there is a monk" through "answering according to its meaning," second, two lines and a half, versify "not speaking of others' merits and faults," answering only according to the meaning of the question, without discoursing on the person's own good or ill. As to "if there is a difficult question, answer it according to its meaning": this has two aspects — questions that may be answered, and questions that may not. In debate, question and answer challenge and contend with one another, each striving for the upper hand; if the matter is decided by victory and defeat alone, each side simply knowing for itself who has won, this is the speech of the wise; if the matter is decided by force, so that whoever dares oppose is put to death, this is the speech of a king; and if one is ignorant of both merit and fault, of right and wrong, seeking only victory itself, this is the speech of a fool. From "through causes, conditions, and parables" to "entering into the buddha-path," third, one line and a half, versify once more "not delighting in speaking of others' faults in the Dharma": to speak of a person's faults gives rise to poisonous thoughts in that person, whereas, by not speaking of his faults, one causes him instead to arouse the resolve and enter the buddha-path — for the buddha-path is born from joy. "Casting off idleness and negligence," fourth, one line, versifies "no resentment or aversion": when a mind of resentment or aversion arises, one becomes idle, negligent, and troubled, whereas, teaching the Dharma now with a mind of loving-kindness and free of resentment or aversion, one is diligent and untroubled. The prose section above, throughout, spoke in terms of what is to be calmed and set at rest, while the verse, throughout, speaks in terms of what is to be actively practiced as good.

From "day and night, constantly teaching the unsurpassed path" onward is, second, four lines, versifying the gateway of contemplation spoken of above. Above it said, "answering only by means of the great vehicle"; the verse says, "teaching the unsurpassed path." Above it said, "causing them to attain the wisdom of all modes"; the verse says, "vowing to accomplish the buddha-path." From "when I have passed into extinction" onward is, third, five lines of verse, making clear the accomplishment of the speech peaceful practice. The first line sets forth the accomplishment of the practice. Next, from "without envy" onward is, second, two lines, making clear that when there is no fault within, no difficulty arises from without — just as flies do not come where there is no foul odor. Next, from "the wise, in this way" onward is, third, one line, making clear that when there is good dharma within, the practice is thereby accomplished. As for "just as I have taught above": that there is no fault within is as taught in the prose section, and that there is good within is as taught in the verse section. Next, from "that person's merit" onward is, fourth, one line, weighing and measuring the merit gained, as may be understood from the text itself.

Third, the mind peaceful practice likewise has both a prose section and a verse section. The prose, too, has three parts: setting forth the section, explaining the practice, and concluding with its accomplishment. Within the explanation, too, calming comes first and contemplation follows. Calming has four aspects: first, not envying or flattering; second, not treating others with contempt or reviling them; third, not troubling or disturbing others; and fourth, not contending or competing. Now, the two lesser vehicles, wishing swiftly to escape birth-and-death, first eliminate craving and desire, while the bodhisattva first eliminates hatred and wrong views — envy is the defilement of hatred, and flattery is the defilement of wrong views. Envy and jealousy run contrary to the mind of loving-kindness and compassion, and are no method by which to transform others; flattery and deceit run contrary to the path of wisdom, and are no method by which to cultivate oneself. If wisdom is obstructed, by what means could one seek the path above? If loving-kindness and compassion are hindered, by what means could one transform beings below? A bodhisattva of the peaceful practice must, above all, cast these two aside. From "nor treating others with contempt or reviling them" onward: one ought not, by means of the conduct of the perfect teaching, rebuke the distinct teaching — one may reprove where the person's capacity permits reproof, but must not revile where it does not, for there is the risk of causing a retreat from good roots already planted. From "monk" onward: one ought not, by means of the perfect teaching, rebuke the shared teaching — for if the person originally has no capacity for the great vehicle, and one forcibly rebukes him by means of the perfect teaching, this runs contrary to his mind and only becomes a torment; having already been rebuked with regard to the shared teaching, and not yet having understood the perfect teaching either, he is left doubting what came before and regretting what comes after, losing both the great and the small alike. Straying circuitously from the path is named "exceedingly far," and this torments the practitioner of the distinct teaching; sinking into emptiness and taking hold of its realization is named "not attained," and this torments the practitioner of the shared teaching. Being weary of birth-and-death is named "indolence" — the Karuṇāpuṇḍarīka Sūtra explains that one of the lesser vehicle is, in this sense, indolent.

From "giving rise to a mind of great compassion" onward makes clear the practice of contemplation, which likewise has four aspects, each raising up a practice of good in answer to one of the four evils spoken of above: first, "giving rise to great compassion toward all beings" runs contrary to envy and flattery. Second, "giving rise to the mind of a loving father toward the Tathāgata" runs contrary to contempt and reviling — for whoever seeks the buddha-path is precisely a fellow student of the path, and to revere him as a student is to revere him as one would the Buddha himself, never to be treated with contempt or reviled. "Every" here embraces all three times, this referring, in particular, to the Tathāgatas of the future. Third, "giving rise to the thought of a great teacher toward every bodhisattva" runs contrary to troubling and disturbing others — for, in terms of principle, all three vehicles are themselves bodhisattvas, possessed of the virtue of teaching and guiding others, every one of them a teacher of sentient beings, and one ought to give rise to the thought of a teacher toward them, never speaking of their shortcomings. Fourth, "teaching the Dharma with equanimity" runs contrary to contention and dispute — equanimity breaking apart the contention born of one-sided clinging, neither too much nor too little, measured according to each vessel's own sharpness or dullness. From "Mañjuśrī" onward concludes with the accomplishment of the practice, and this has two parts: first, because evil is thereby stopped, evil cannot touch him, and hence it says "none can trouble or disturb him"; second, because he practices contemplation, those of superior capacity gather around him, and hence "he gains good fellow-students."

The verse section has six lines: the first five lines versify the two practices of calming and contemplation given above, each with its four aspects; the last line versifies the accomplishment of the practice.

Fourth, the vow peaceful practice has two parts: first, the prose section; next, the verse section. The prose, again, has two parts: first, explaining the method of the practice; next, praising the sūtra. As for the method of the practice, this forms three parts: setting forth the section, the method of the practice, and its concluding accomplishment. The setting-forth of the section may be understood from the text itself.

The method of the practice forms three parts: first, from "whether in a household or gone forth" onward, sets forth the object of the vow; second, from "one should reflect thus" onward, makes clear the reason the vow arises; third, from "I have attained" onward, formally establishes the vow itself. The first, making clear the object of the vow of loving-kindness, takes in, throughout, those who have already aroused a mind directed toward the expedient teachings but have not yet left the three realms, which is named "in a household"; and those who have cut off the common delusions entirely, which is named "gone forth" — this embraces the two kinds of the two lesser vehicles and the three kinds of bodhisattva. These, too, still possess ignorance, and might well seem to be the object of great compassion instead — but, since all of them have already aroused the resolve, they accord with the vow of loving-kindness, and one must grant them the bliss of the perfect path and its perfect fruit — hence it says, "giving rise to a mind of great loving-kindness." As for the object of compassion: these are not bodhisattvas at all, taking in, throughout, those who have never yet aroused a mind directed toward the expedient teachings, and are named "not bodhisattvas." Not turning even toward the expedient teachings at all, how much less toward the real teaching itself. This object of compassion embraces everyone within the three realms — these, too, must be granted bliss, but since their wandering in transmigration has no end in sight, they accord precisely with the vow of compassion, and one ought to draw out the causes and effects of their transgressions — hence it says, "giving rise to a mind of great compassion."

From "one should reflect thus" to "teaching the Dharma according to what is fitting" is precisely the reason the vow of loving-kindness arises: because those who delight in the lesser vehicle cling to the Buddha's own expedient means as though it were the real truth itself, failing to comprehend the perfect path, this is called "a great loss" — and this great loss is the reason the vow of loving-kindness arises. From "not hearing, not knowing" onward is the reason the vow of compassion arises: because they have not yet aroused a mind directed toward either the partial or the perfect path, and have not heard either of these two paths, not hearing the partial path is to be without the wisdom born of hearing; not knowing is to be without the wisdom born of reflection; and not perceiving is to be without the wisdom born of cultivation. And they are, besides, without the three wisdoms of the perfect teaching. Why is this?

Because they do not ask, they do not hear; because they do not believe, they do not know; because they do not understand, they do not cultivate — the three wisdoms of both the partial and the perfect teachings, provisional and real alike, are entirely absent in them, a state exceedingly to be pitied — and this is the reason the vow of compassion arises. From "though this person neither asks about nor believes in this sūtra" onward, the vow itself is formally set forth. Though such a person neither asks about nor believes in either the partial or the perfect path, the bodhisattva does not, on that account, direct his vow toward the partial teaching, but wishes only to grant him the three wisdoms of the perfect path — hence it says, "though he neither asks about nor believes in this sūtra, I, having attained the awakening of the threefold bodhi, shall lead and draw him in until he enters it as well." The vow, bodhi, wisdom, and spiritual powers are all attained by means of the peaceful practice. Why is this? Deeply contemplating the seat of the Tathāgata, one attains the power of wisdom, adorned with the fourfold eloquence, able thereby to draw beings out through wisdom; deeply contemplating the room and the robe of the Tathāgata, one attains the power of great, virtuous quiescence, manifesting every manner of majestic bearing without ever rising from the cessation-concentration; and spiritual powers, merit, and virtue, adorning oneself, are first set in motion through the power of concentration.

From "Mañjuśrī" onward concludes the accomplishment of the practice, and this forms three parts: the first, concluding as a whole that being free of fault is precisely the accomplishment of the practice. How is this practice accomplished? Because he has established the great vow, entering the room of the Tathāgata, the practice is accomplished; because he knows that the fourfold assembly has lost the perfect path, this being precisely the seat of the Tathāgata, the practice is accomplished; and because his vow restrains his own mind from indolence, this being the robe of the Tathāgata, the practice is accomplished. All three practices being thus fully established, this is why it is said that the practice is accomplished. As for "free of fault": because loving-kindness and compassion are accomplished, he is free of the fault of the defilement of hatred; because the robe of the Tathāgata is accomplished, he is free of indolence; and because the seat of the Tathāgata is accomplished, he is free of flattery and crookedness. From "constantly, for the monks" onward is, second, concluding separately with the accomplishment of the practice of loving-kindness and compassion: because loving-kindness is accomplished, he draws in the fourfold assembly, gods, and humans, who make offerings to him and listen to his teaching; because the vow is accomplished, he moves the buddhas' own spiritual powers, and the gods themselves come to his protection; and because the seat of the Tathāgata is accomplished, his listeners rejoice. From "the reason for this" onward is, third, explaining the accomplishment of the practice of the vow: if the buddhas of the three times themselves still watch over and protect him, how much more so the gods?

From "Mañjuśrī" to "this is the Lotus [Sūtra]" is, second, praising the sūtra's rarity, being difficult to hear. This, too, has two parts: an explanation by direct statement, and an explanation by parable. The direct statement itself has two parts: first, that in the past it was never yet openly taught, and so in the past it could not be attained; second, that only today has it at last been attained. The parable, likewise, has two parts: first, the parable of not giving the pearl, corresponding to its never yet having been openly taught in the past; second, the parable of giving the pearl, corresponding to its being heard, at last, today. Each of the two parables has both an opened-out version and a combined, correlated version. The parable of not giving the pearl has six parts: first, subduing every kingdom through majestic power; second, the lesser kings' refusal to submit; third, raising an army to go and punish them; fourth, rejoicing at the merit of victory; fifth, bestowing rewards according to merit; and sixth, yet not giving the pearl.

The "cakravartin king" corresponds to the Tathāgata transforming the world; "subduing every kingdom" corresponds to the objects of the five aggregates, the eighteen elements, and the twelve sense-fields. Second, the "lesser kings" correspond to the afflictions and the like, not yet subdued by the undefiled path — this is named "refusing to submit to his command." Third, "raising every kind of army" corresponds to the methods of the seven worthy stages, which serve as the vanguard; the methods of the stream-enterer and once-returner, which serve as the second rank; and the methods of the non-returner and the arhat, which serve as the rearguard. What is broken apart are the eighty-four thousand bandits, the equal divisions of the three poisons; and what does the breaking are the eighty-four thousand soldiers and officers of the Dharma-gates. From "the king, seeing his troops" onward is, fourth, rejoicing at the merit of victory. From "bestowing rewards according to merit" onward is, fifth, the bestowal of rewards according to merit: "fields" correspond to samādhi; "houses" correspond to wisdom; "hamlets" correspond to the first and second fruits; "towns" correspond to the third fruit; "cities" correspond to nirvāṇa; "clothing" corresponds to the good dharmas of shame and forbearance; "ornaments for the body" correspond to the good dharmas that assist the path; "every kind of the seven jewels" corresponds to the seven factors of awakening and the like; "elephants, horses, and chariots" correspond to the two lesser vehicles' wisdom of the exhaustion of outflows and of non-arising; and "male and female servants" correspond to spiritual powers, while the attainment of tainted good dharmas corresponds to "the common people." From "only the pearl within his topknot" onward is, sixth, yet not giving the pearl: there are those whose capacity leads them out of segmented birth-and-death, which counts as a lesser merit, and those whose capacity leads them out of the birth-and-death of inconceivable transformation, which counts as a great merit. As for "astonished and perplexed": no one has yet earned so great a merit that the topknot's own pearl should suddenly be bestowed on him, and every minister is astonished at this — corresponding to how, when the great capacity of sentient beings has not yet been stirred, this sūtra is suddenly proclaimed, the two lesser vehicles fall into doubt and bewilderment, and the bodhisattvas themselves are astonished. The correlation of all six parables, one by one, may be understood from the text itself.

From "Mañjuśrī, just as the cakravartin king" onward is the parable of giving the pearl, and this, too, has two parts: first, the earning of a great merit; second, the giving of the pearl. "The bright pearl" — "bright" corresponds to the wisdom of the middle way, and its perfect roundness corresponds to permanence; "within the topknot" corresponds to what the ultimate fruit itself reveres; and "within the topknot" also means that reality itself is concealed by what is provisional — undoing the topknot corresponds to the opening of the provisional, and giving the pearl corresponds to the disclosing of the real. The correlated meaning, too, has two parts: "able to lead one all the way to the wisdom of all modes" — this wisdom is precisely the name of the fruit, and this is the oneness of practice. "The foremost of all teachings" is the oneness of the teaching.

"The secret treasury" is the oneness of principle, and, together with it, the oneness of the person is attained as well.

The verse section has fourteen lines and a half, and forms two parts: the first four lines versify the method of the practice given above; the next ten lines and a half versify the praise of the sūtra given above.

The first, versifying the method of practice, again has two parts: the first, one line, versifies, ahead of sequence, the accomplishment of the practice — above, the accomplishment of the practice was made clear as a whole, while here the verse displays it separately: "constantly practicing forbearance" versifies the accomplishment of being clothed in the robe; "having pity and compassion for all" versifies the accomplishment of entering the room; and "and so being able to expound the Dharma" versifies the accomplishment of sitting in the seat. Next, from "in the final age to come" onward is, second, three lines, versifying the method of cultivating the practice — above there were three parts, the object, the reason, and the vow, and the verse versifies all of them in full. Next, from "it is as if a man of great strength" onward is, second, ten lines and a half, versifying the praise, given above, of the sūtra's being difficult to hear. Above there was both a direct statement and a parable, joined together in correlation; here, only the parable and its correlation are versified. The versified parable itself has two parts: the first three lines versify not giving the pearl; next, from "as one of great valor" onward is, second, one line, versifying the giving of the pearl. Next, from "the Tathāgata is exactly the same" onward is, second, the correlated parable: the first three lines and a half versify the correlation to not giving the pearl; next, from "already knowing that sentient beings" onward is, second, three lines, versifying the correlation to giving the pearl. Within this, further fine distinctions could still be drawn, and so on.

From "after I have passed into extinction" onward, twenty-three lines, is the chapter's third part, concluding as a whole with the marks and signs by which the accomplishment of the practice is confirmed, so as to encourage its cultivation. This forms three parts: the first, one line and a half, concludes with an exhortation in four aspects; the next, twenty lines and a half, raises up three kinds of retribution as encouragement, also named the purification of the three obstructions; and the last, one line, concludes as a whole. Once the three obstructions are purified and transformed, the evil karma of the present life, this life to come, and later lives is entirely exhausted, and one thereby attains a superior retribution in the present life, in this life to come, and in later lives. The first line, "free of worry and vexation," is the transformation of the obstruction of retribution, transforming the retribution of the present life. The second, half a line, "not born into poverty," is the transformation of the obstruction of karma, transforming the retribution of the next life. The third, from "sentient beings delight in seeing him" onward, nineteen lines, is the transformation of the obstruction of affliction, transforming the retribution of later lives. Now, the first, the single line "reading and reciting this sūtra," extinguishes the worry and vexation of the present life, which is precisely the removal of the retribution of suffering felt — this transforms the mind's retribution in the present life; being free of sickness and pain and the like is the transformation of the retribution of physical form. From "not born into poverty" onward is, second, half a line, the transformation of evil karma: evil karma as cause ought to bring forth an evil result as its fruit, but the power of the sūtra transforms this evil cause so that a good result is attained instead — this is the transformation of the retribution of the next life. "Not born" means being without the karma that gives rise to evil — upholding the sūtra in the present life, one does not create the karma of poverty, and in the life to come one is not born into a base and lowly state. From "sentient beings delight in seeing him" onward, nineteen lines, makes clear the transformation of later retribution, transforming the three obstructions of affliction, and this forms two parts: the first three lines make clear, individually, the transformation of the three obstructions of affliction; the second, sixteen lines, make clear, as a whole, the transformation of every obstruction. The first, again, has three parts: the first, one line from "sentient beings delight in seeing him" onward, makes clear individually the transformation of the obstruction of greed — one of excessive desire is treated with contempt by others, and is, besides, obstructed from birth in the Brahmā heavens; but once the obstruction of desire is transformed, one is delighted in by others, and the very children of the gods come to attend upon him. From "sword and staff cannot touch him" onward is, second, one line and a half, making clear individually the transformation of the obstruction of hatred: casting off hatred removes the sword and arrow within, so that, entering the battle line, the sword without cannot wound him either. From "the light of wisdom" onward, half a line, is, third, making clear the transformation of the obstruction of delusion. From "should he see, within a dream, wondrous things" onward is, second, sixteen lines, making clear, as a whole, the transformation of every obstruction of affliction, this too being the transformation of later retribution. That upholding the sūtra should, in the present, bring about this mark is proof that it was, in fact, already accomplished long ago in the past, only now brought forth through the borrowing of a present condition. And there are, besides, marks such as the causes and effects of becoming a buddha, all of them belonging to later retribution — and this is why the marks of future, later retribution are seen within a dream. The events of a hundred thousand myriad koṭis of kalpas, contained within a single thought-moment's dream, serve to display the inconceivability of the wondrous Dharma — the one within the immeasurable, and the immeasurable within the one; this mark appears now, in anticipation, and only later shall its fruit truly be won.

Again, this forms six parts: from the very first arousing of faith all the way to the eightfold manifestation of buddhahood at the stage of sublime awakening, everything is the Tathāgata's own adornment, adorning oneself as well — this is precisely the retribution of forbearance. In terms of the first three lines, one dreams of entering the ten degrees of faith, and this, again, has two parts: the first, two lines and a half, is the retribution of loving-kindness and compassion; the next, half a line, is the retribution of right view free of delusion. Next, from "and again seeing every buddha" onward, second, six lines and a half, is dreaming of entering the ten abodes. Next, from "and again seeing oneself dwelling" onward, third, three half-lines, is dreaming of cultivating the ten practices. Next, from "realizing the true mark of every dharma" onward, fourth, one half-line, is dreaming of awakening to the ten dedications. Next, from "entering deeply into meditative concentration" onward, fifth, half a line, is dreaming of entering the ten grounds. Next, from "the bodies of every buddha, golden-hued" onward, sixth, five lines, is dreaming of entering sublime awakening. Since it says, "realizing the wisdom of never turning back is itself the receiving of a prediction," one should know that this means attaining entry into the rank of the first abode, where non-arising is realized and the prediction received. "And again seeing oneself dwelling in mountains and forests" is to be understood as the cultivation of good dharmas belonging to the ten practices. "Realizing the true mark of every dharma" is to be understood as the ten dedications, the correct contemplation of the middle way's own stage. "Entering deeply into meditative concentration" is precisely the stainless samādhi of the tenth ground, entering the vajra concentration in which every buddha appears, anointing the crown of one's head and conferring one's office. Dreaming of the eight marks by which a buddha is known as one of sublime awakening — this, within the passage, may be understood as the mark by which the first abode is itself already able to manifest the eight marks of buddhahood, the earlier stage borrowing the language proper to the ultimate stage of enlightenment to speak of it.

"Should it be a later, evil age" is one line, concluding as a whole the accomplishment of the practice. As for the faculty of faith: one attains, with regard to the three jewels, a firm and unshakable faith that nothing whatsoever can undermine or destroy. As for the faculty of diligence: one attains the four right exertions. As for the faculty of mindfulness: one attains the contemplation of the four foundations of mindfulness. As for the faculty of concentration: through diligent skillful means subduing craving and worry, one attains the four dhyānas. As for the faculty of wisdom: one attains understanding of the four noble truths, knowing them exactly as they truly are. Again, the faculty of faith is the pure faith attained through arousing the mind of bodhi with regard to the Tathāgata; the faculty of diligence is the diligence aroused through arousing this mind with regard to the Tathāgata; the faculty of mindfulness is the mindfulness aroused through arousing this mind with regard to the Tathāgata; the faculty of concentration is the samādhi aroused with regard to the Tathāgata; and the faculty of wisdom is the wisdom aroused with regard to the Tathāgata. The eightfold noble path is the path of the śramaṇa, and is likewise the dharma of the śramaṇa — the accomplishment of the exhaustion of craving, hatred, and every affliction is the very meaning of "śramaṇa." The four fruits are the fruits of the śramaṇa. As for dreaming: from the stream-enterer all the way to the pratyekabuddha, all of them dream; the Buddha alone does not dream, since, free of doubt and free of habitual tendencies, there is nothing left in him to dream. Dreams arise from five causes, as the verses explain: through a mind of doubt, through discrimination, through habituated learning, through some present occurrence, or through a non-human being coming to speak with one — it is through these five causes that dreams occur; and, together with what one has further heard or seen, and every kind of affliction, this makes seven causes through which dreams occur.

Question: In the present, the mind-consciousness itself does not see form directly — how, then, could form be seen within the mental sphere of a dream? Answer: All of this is what has already been seen, or what has already been heard, and now merely imagined. And these, too, are simply auspicious or inauspicious signs.

Question: In a dream there is neither spiritual power nor the wisdom of past lives — how, then, could one see the events of a future life? Answer: This does not belong to the domain of the wisdom born of vows, but is rather a matter of inference: various people have, in the past, had just such dreams followed by just such results, and it is by this that one now infers it.

Question: Who sleeps? Answer: Beings of the five destinies, and those in the intermediate state as well, all sleep; and even one still in the womb, once the faculties are complete, sleeps too — and even the Buddha himself sleeps.

Question: Sleep is ordinarily classed as either ignorance or a hindrance — how, then, is this to be reconciled with the Buddha's own sleeping? Answer: The Buddha, wishing to regulate his body, brings forth this state and manifests it directly — his sleep is neither a hindrance nor ignorance.

Explaining the chapter "Bodhisattvas from Beneath the Earth." The teacher stern, the path revered, disciples bow low in reverent service; at the Tathāgata's single summons, they come rushing up from every direction — and this is why it is called "the chapter of emerging from the earth." Across the three times, teaching and guiding, bestowing benefit without limit — a single moon casting a myriad reflections, who could ever fully fathom it? Summoning the past so as to manifest it in the present, proclaiming the sūtra so as to benefit the present age — and this is why it is called "the chapter of emerging from the earth." Empty space itself, clear and still, knows neither early nor late; yet some cling to the trace and remain in the dark as to its source. Summoning what is past to disclose it in the present, breaking open the near to reveal the distant — and this is why it is called "the chapter of emerging from the earth." At the quiescent site of awakening, a father seemingly young; in the land of quiescent light, a child seemingly old — the medicine's own power is disclosed here, causing every one to come to know it — and this is why it is called "the chapter of emerging from the earth." The text itself says, "From where have they come, and by what cause and condition have they gathered here?" — and now, by means of these several senses, the chapter's title is explained, disclosing the understanding proper to the causes and conditions of the four siddhāntas — and this is why it is called "the chapter of emerging from the earth." From this point on is the great division, second within the sūtra as a whole: opening the near trace of the teacher's own gate, so as to disclose the distant source of the buddha-ground. This text forms three parts: first, from this point on down to "you shall, by means of this, come to hear it for yourselves," is the prologue section; second, from "at that time Śākyamuni told Maitreya" onward, down to Maitreya's speaking of the nineteen-line verse in the "Distinguishing the Merits" chapter, is the section of the main teaching itself; and third, from after that verse down through the remaining eleven and a half chapters, is the section of the teaching's transmission to the future, and so on.

The prologue has two parts: first, the emerging from the earth; second, the raising of a doubt and question. The emerging from the earth has three parts: first, the bodhisattvas from other lands requesting to proclaim the sūtra; second, the Tathāgata's declining their offer; and third, the bodhisattvas beneath the earth emerging. The bodhisattvas from other lands, hearing that the merit of proclaiming this sūtra is great, all wished to make the vow to remain in this land and broadly teach it, and so they made their request to do so. The Tathāgata declined their offer for three reasons in all: each of them already has his own proper task, and to remain in this land would be to forsake the benefit owed to their own — this is the first; their karmic connection with this land, formed only shallowly, means that even were they to proclaim the teaching here, it could bring no great benefit — this is the second; and, again, were their offer accepted, there would then be no occasion to summon those beneath the earth, and, should those beneath the earth fail to come forth, the trace could not be broken open, nor the distant source ever disclosed — this is the third reason, and it is for these three reasons that the Tathāgata declined. The summoning of those from beneath the earth likewise has three reasons: these are his own disciples, and it is fitting that they proclaim his own Dharma; their karmic connection is deep and broad, able to reach the benefit of this land in full, the benefit of the lands of the emanation-buddhas, and the benefit of other lands besides; and, again, only through them can the near be opened to reveal the distant — and this is why the offer of those others was declined, and those from beneath the earth summoned instead. From "as the Buddha spoke these words" onward is, third, the bodhisattvas beneath the earth emerging, and this has two parts: first, the sūtra-compilers' own narration of the scene; second, making clear the greeting exchanged. Each of these two sections, in turn, has five parts. The first five are: the emerging itself; their bodily marks; their dwelling place; their hearing of the summons; and their retinues. As for their dwelling place: this is the land of eternal, quiescent light — "eternal" being the virtue of permanence, "quiescent" the virtue of bliss, and "light" the virtue of purity and true self — this is the secret treasury of the four virtues, and it is this that is their dwelling place, dwelling within the secret treasury by means of a dharma that dwells nowhere at all. As for "beneath": this is the very depth of the abyss of the dharma-nature, the ultimate ground of the mysterious teaching, and this is why it is called "beneath."

Being beneath does not belong to this world above, and being in the sky does not belong to that world beneath — being neither this nor that is precisely the middle way. Emerging from beneath, they are neither above nor still beneath — being neither above nor below, dwelling in the sky, this too is precisely the middle way. As for the reason for their coming: they come because they have heard the summons; they come to proclaim the Dharma; they come to break open attachment; and they come to disclose the source — all exactly as explained above. As for the retinues they bring with them: judged by ordinary human feeling, one might say that those leading a retinue of sixty or fifty thousand Ganges-sands are many, that those leading three, two, or one are few, and that one entirely alone is solitary indeed; but, sought out according to the text itself, those with sixty or fifty thousand are, in fact, few, while the one entirely alone is, in fact, many. The text itself says that those entirely alone, dwelling in solitude, exceed in number even those counted above — and if one seeks this out through the Dharma-gate, every single one of them, without exception, possesses the virtue of a guide, able to lead the whole multitude of beings to the place of treasure, and one should know that the solitary one is not truly alone, nor the sixty thousand truly many. One is the purity of the single path; two is concentration and wisdom; three is moral discipline, concentration, and wisdom; four is the four noble truths; five is the five eyes; six is the six perfections — and each single perfection is itself furnished with all ten dharma-realms, and each single realm, in turn, has its own ten, so that ten becomes a hundred, and a hundred becomes a thousand, and the ten forms of goodness become ten thousand, so that a single perfection is furnished with ten thousand, and the six perfections together become sixty thousand Dharma-gates — many is not truly many, and one is not truly few; it is neither many nor few, and yet it is both many and few at once, and so on.

From "these bodhisattvas, having come forth from the earth" onward is, second, the greeting, which forms five parts: first, the offering made through the three karmic actions; second, the words of greeting spoken; third, the Buddha's answer concerning his peace and ease; fourth, the verse expressing rejoicing; and fifth, the Tathāgata's own words of praise.

As to the first, the offering made through the three karmic actions: fifty small kalpas passed, and yet it seemed no more than half a day, the fourfold assembly seeing this throughout — this is precisely concealing what is long while manifesting it as short, borrowing his own spiritual power to cause what is narrow to be seen as vast, and both alike are inconceivable. "Bowing and circling" is the karmic action of the body; "praising the Dharma" is that of speech; and "gazing up in reverence" is that of the mind. As for "fifty small kalpas" and "half a day": this is the inconceivability of time itself. What the Tathāgata himself perceives carries no duality of appearance, and the bodhisattvas beneath the earth constantly praise him face to face, while the Tathāgata sits in silence, constantly receiving their praise — one who understands sees the short as long, calling it fifty small kalpas, while one who is deluded sees the long as short, calling it no more than half a day — and this is precisely a deliberate device, luring the listener onward, in terms of the source and the trace. So long as the Tathāgata has not yet spoken, one remains in the dark as to the source and clings only to the trace; but once the Buddha opens and discloses it, one awakens from the near and reaches through to the distant — and this, too, is a way of knowing that the inconceivable is, in truth, one. That the fourfold assembly sees these bodhisattvas everywhere throughout is likewise inconceivable: the fleshly eye and the heavenly eye alike see, ordinarily, no great distance, and yet what is now beheld fills the whole of empty space — seeing rain fall in torrents, one knows the dragon to be vast; seeing flowers bloom in abundance, one knows the pool to be deep; and seeing this response fill all of space, one thereby knows that the true nature pervades the entire dharma-realm. First, the setting forth of the four leading teachers.

Next, the words of greeting spoken. The question, too, has two parts: a prose section and a verse section. The prose has two parts: first, asking after the Tathāgata's own peace and ease; second, asking whether sentient beings are easily brought across, and so on. That only four persons are named here is meant to correspond to the fourfold pattern of opening, showing, awakening to, and entering the Buddha's wisdom across forty stages — just as the Huayan [the Avataṃsaka Sūtra] names only Dharmamati, Guṇavana, Vajradhvaja, and Vajragarbha to expound its own forty stages, and so on.

Third, the Tathāgata answers in full. The two matters of peace-and-ease and being easily brought across bring each other to completion: where beings are easily brought across, there is peace and ease; and where there is peace and ease, beings are easily brought across.

Being easily brought across has two aspects: first, those of sharp faculties and abundant virtue, who, life after life until now, have constantly received the Buddha's own great teaching, and who, the very moment they first see my body, receive the Huayan teaching and enter the Tathāgata's wisdom — their fruit already ripe and easily falling, these are the sentient beings easily brought across; second, those of dull faculties and meager virtue, who, life after life until now, have not received the great teaching — and it is for the sake of such people that the dull must be opened and the gradual taught, subduing them by means of the Tripiṭaka teaching, the Vaipulya teaching, and the Perfection of Wisdom teaching, so that these people, too, upon now hearing the Lotus, may enter the Buddha's own wisdom. Compared to the first, this is more difficult — yet for the Buddha it remains altogether easy, since the Buddha, discerning what is fitting for them, applies the skillful means that suits their need, whether it be light or requiring further application, and the wisdom and awakening finally attained is the very same in both cases. Here, ten senses are briefly raised to explain this: first, the initial seeing and the present seeing; second, the opened-out and unopened, the combined and uncombined; third, the vertical breadth and the horizontal brevity; fourth, one source with many traces, the traces held in common while the source is unique to each; fifth, the added teaching and the teaching not added; sixth, the changed land and the unchanged land; seventh, many places and not many places; eighth, the rejecting-and-reclaiming and the not rejecting-and-reclaiming; ninth, directly disclosing the real, and opening the provisional to disclose the real; and tenth, the sharp faculty ripening at first, and the dull faculty ripening only later.

First, "the initial seeing and the present seeing": at the time of his first attainment of the path, this is named the initial seeing; at the seat of the Lotus, long afterward, disclosing what is truly real, this is named the present seeing. When the sun first shone on the high mountains, this was precisely the teaching of the sudden — neither opened out nor combined; but for the sake of those unable to enter it, the sudden was opened and the gradual taught, tempering beings through the five flavors so as to gradually bring them back to the sudden. The sudden enters directly and vertically into the dharma-realm, and this is why it is called "vertical breadth"; it does not pass through any expedient means, and this is why it is called "horizontal brevity"; and now, passing through the five flavors, this is precisely "horizontal breadth," while attaining entry into the Buddha's wisdom is likewise "vertical breadth." There being one dais, the source is one; there being a thousand petals, the traces are many. The traces, being shared with the many other sūtras, are called "held in common"; the source, differing from the many other sūtras, is called "unique." Adding the four bodhisattvas to expound the forty stages is speaking of opening, showing, awakening to, and entering by oneself, without adding what belongs to another. Being the World of the Flower King, it is called "unchanged"; the second, changing the land as its field, is called "changed." The seven locations and eight assemblies are "many places"; Gṛdhrakūṭa, its far reach spreading into empty space, is "not many places." Doing away with the phantom city and changing the traveler's own status is called "rejecting and reclaiming"; there being no such matter here, this is "not rejecting and reclaiming." Practicing the great, direct path is named "directly disclosing the real"; resolving and clarifying the śrāvaka's own dharma is named "opening the provisional to disclose the real." The sharp faculty, its karmic connection ripe, enters the Buddha's wisdom at the outset; the dull faculty, ripening only later, enters the Buddha's wisdom only now. Though the fittingness of their karmic connections differs, these are, in brief, ten distinctions — yet the wisdom of all modes and the dharma-realm itself carry no difference at all, which is why the text itself says, "the very moment they first see my body and hear what I teach, they at once believe and accept it, entering the Tathāgata's wisdom — excepting only those who have already trained themselves in and grown attached to the lesser vehicle." That they now enter the Buddha's wisdom by means of this very sūtra is made plain in this text itself, and there is no need for doubt about it. The various masters, seeing that their karmic connections differ, follow this difference into differing interpretations, and, lost in confusion, fail to realize that in turning away they only stray further from the path — yet, if one recognizes that the principle is the same, like a thousand carts following a single track, then the Buddha's wisdom is, in the end, no different at all. The old explanation holds that the Huayan is the teaching of complete meaning, the full character, ever abiding, while the Lotus is the teaching of incomplete meaning, neither full nor ever abiding — but, judging by this very text, if the initial entry is the teaching of complete meaning while the present entry is of incomplete meaning, then the initial entry would be the Buddha's wisdom while the present entry would not be the Buddha's wisdom at all; yet if the Buddha's wisdom is one and the same in both cases, then the teaching of complete meaning, too, is equal in both, and the full character, ever abiding, is present throughout in just the same way, and so on. The masters of the Dilun school call the Huayan the perfect teaching's own school, and the Lotus a school not yet truly real — and here, too, this same text may be used to weigh their claim against it.

Fourth, the bodhisattvas' own understanding and rejoicing. As for those able to ask: these are precisely the four great masters within the Huayan, and, within the Lotus, Śāriputra's threefold request — both alike are those able to ask. As for what is asked: this is precisely the asking after the Buddha's own wisdom.

Fifth, as for the Tathāgata's own words of praise: this differs markedly from the question itself — the questioner's own rejoicing. Those able to ask are all themselves bodhisattvas, and, together with those they have taught and transformed, upon hearing this, believe and practice it, saying, "we too rejoice." That the Tathāgata should praise the one who transforms others, giving rise to rejoicing in this way — what, then, is the meaning of this?

Yet those able to ask are themselves, in truth, ancient buddhas — that you should be able to rejoice is itself precisely being a Tathāgata. The bodhisattvas rejoice in his trace, while the Tathāgata praises his own source — and this, too, secretly points ahead to the teaching on his own lifespan, and so on. From "at that time Maitreya, together with eighty thousand great masters" onward is, second, the prologue raising a doubt and question. From the site of quiescent awakening down to the present seat, great masters from the ten directions have come to this assembly without cease, and though their number cannot be measured, I, by the power of the wisdom proper to one who is next in line for buddhahood, see and know every one of them — and yet, among this assembly, I do not recognize even a single one. And though I myself have traveled and taught throughout the ten directions, paying homage to every buddha, and the great assemblies of every buddha are ones I know well and thoroughly, still, as to where these particular ones have themselves traveled, I do not recognize this either — whether coming or going, reasoned out in just this way, I recognize none of them at all. Again, these great masters are ones who have gone before, already far advanced, while Maitreya belongs to a later cohort, a student still at the rear — and it is because the later cannot know the earlier that he fails to recognize them. Again, these great masters, at the very depth of the true mark of reality, manifest in response throughout the ten directions, each teaching and transforming beings through his own distinct true response, which lies beyond Maitreya's own domain altogether — and this, too, is why he fails to recognize them. Again, the Buddha, entrusting the proclamation of the sūtra to them, summons these great masters, and, hearing their teacher's own command, they come — secretly hearing, at the same time, of his own lifespan, a matter the present assembly does not yet know — and this, too, is why it is said he fails to recognize them. This, then, explains the prologue's raising of a doubt and question in terms of the four siddhāntas, and so on.

The raising of doubt and question has two parts: first, the doubt of the bodhisattvas of this land; second, the doubt of the bodhisattvas of other lands. The doubt of this land, again, has two parts: first, the prose section, the thought of doubt itself; next, the verse, nineteen lines and a half, the question formally asked, which itself forms five parts: the first, one line and one half-line, asks from where they have come; next, from "by what cause and condition" onward is, second, one line and three half-lines, asking by what cause and condition they have come; next, from "each and every one of these bodhisattvas" onward is, third, nine lines, recounting their number; next, from "these of such great and majestic virtue" onward is, fourth, two lines, asking who their teacher may be; next, from "such spiritual powers as these bodhisattvas possess" onward is, fifth, five lines and a half, concluding the request, which itself has five parts: the first two half-lines conclude with praise; next, from "the ground in every direction" onward is, second, two lines, requesting an answer as to where they have come from; next, from "among this whole assembly" onward is, third, one line, requesting an answer as to the cause of their coming; next, from "this present great assembly" onward is, fourth, one line and a half, the whole assembly's shared request; and next, from "of immeasurable virtue" onward is, fifth, two half-lines, requesting an answer as to who their teacher and master may be, and so on.

Second, as for the doubt of the bodhisattvas from other lands: the retinues of the emanation-buddhas, spread horizontally throughout the ten directions, share the very same doubt as Maitreya — since neither land knows the true source, this being meant to disclose that the attainment of the path was, in fact, exceedingly long ago. Each of these assemblies, in turn, laid out its own doubt before its own buddha, and every one of these buddhas held it in check, waiting instead upon Maitreya, and so on.

From "at that time Śākyamuni Buddha told Maitreya" onward is, second, the main teaching itself. The text has two parts: first, the prose section; next, the verse of exhortation and consent, and only after this the main teaching proper. The prose first offers words of praise; next comes the exhortation, exhorting the assembly not to be disordered, not to be indolent, and not to retreat; next comes his consent, setting forth the fruit of wisdom — the fruit of wisdom being the Tathāgata's own knowledge and vision, the wondrous fruit of knowledge and vision itself; and next comes the opening of the teaching that transforms beings, which is "proclaiming and disclosing" it. "Sovereign spiritual power" refers to the benefit brought to beings in the past; "the lion's vigorous roar" refers to the places reached, in the present, by the emanation-buddhas throughout the ten directions. Some say that "vigorous roar" describes the very bearing of advancing forward, and that this expresses the mark of benefiting beings constantly, without cease, in the future.

"Great strength and majestic might" refers to the benefit brought to beings in the future. Some take this instead to mean the shaking of the ten directions in the present — the choice is simply a matter of how each interpreter applies it. It is best, however, to follow the sequence given in the text itself. My own view, further, is this: "the Tathāgata's own sovereignty" corresponds to true self; "spiritual penetration" corresponds to bliss; "the lion's vigorous roar," its vigor sweeping away every defilement, corresponds to purity; and "great strength and majestic might," benefiting beings in the future, corresponds to permanence. This, then, is the sense in which these four phrases point to the four virtues, and so on. The four-line verse: the first three half-lines versify the threefold exhortation; the last three lines and a half-line versify the consent. The first half-line versifies the setting-forth of the fruit of wisdom; the next three lines versify the three times.

From "at that time the World-Honored One" onward is, second, the main teaching section itself. The text has three parts: from here down through the whole of the "Lifespan" chapter is the actual opening of the near to reveal the distant; second, at the opening of the "Distinguishing" chapter, the general conferral of the prediction of the dharma-body; and third, Maitreya's own general expression of his understanding. The first, again, has two parts: first, briefly opening the near to reveal the distant, stirring up attachment and giving rise to doubt; next, broadly opening the near to reveal the distant, cutting off delusion and giving rise to faith. The brief opening, again, has two parts: first, the brief opening itself; second, the renewed request occasioned by the doubt raised. As for the brief opening, this has both a prose section and a verse section, and, within it, only the two questions are answered — the question of by what cause and condition they have gathered is left unanswered, and it is precisely because it is left unanswered that the renewed request follows; the prose section answers and explains both questions together, as may be seen in the text itself. As for explaining "dwelling in the space beneath": the Treatise makes clear the samādhi of "being and its ground, dispersed," and this ought to be explained in four ways: "being" is the three realms of existence, and "ground" is the sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, taken as the ground because of its depth and its supremacy; again, "being" is name and appearance, and "ground" is emptiness, taken as the ground because of its own quiescent emptiness; and again, "being" is the conventional truth of the two extremes, and "ground" is the fullness of the wisdom of the ultimate limit, taken as the ground for this reason. In the present sūtra, the emptiness of the space beneath is taken as the ground — being neither the realm above nor the realm below, this expresses the middle way itself as the ground, and this is a distinction made in terms of the teachings, and so on. From "with regard to every scripture" onward is the explanation. The teacher knows that his disciples are furnished with the twin virtues of wisdom and of the severing of affliction — the first is the joint cultivation of wisdom and severance, and the next is the joint realization of wisdom and severance. Discerning and distinguishing with regard to the scriptures is the cultivation of wisdom; holding them rightly in mind is the cultivation of severance; taking no delight in being among a crowd is the realization of severance; and diligently exerting oneself is the realization of wisdom. From "not dwelling in dependence on gods or humans" onward is the explanation of their dwelling-place: gods and humans are the two extremes, and to dwell here without abiding in or clinging to either is the point. "Profound wisdom, free of every hindrance" means relying on inconceivable wisdom.

"Delighting in the teachings of every buddha" means delighting in the inconceivable object of wisdom. Both this object and this wisdom are exceedingly subtle, and are not within the reach of a bodhisattva of merely nearby practice.

The verse has eight lines and a half: the first five lines and a half versify the answering of the two questions; the last three lines versify the joint explanation given, and so on.

From "at that time Maitreya" onward is the renewed request occasioned by his doubt. This has both a prose section and a verse section. The prose has two parts: first, the doubt; second, the request. Having heard above, "beneath the bodhi tree, he then taught and transformed them, and now, every one of them dwells in the state of never turning back," and having heard, too, "I myself, from a time long, long past, have taught and transformed this very assembly" — hearing these two statements together stirs up his attachment and gives rise to doubt. From "he said to the Buddha" onward, the doubt is voiced and the request renewed, and this, too, has two parts: first, the direct statement; second, the parable. The direct statement forms three parts: first, from "and then he said to the Buddha" onward, doubting that, the attainment of the path being so recent, those he has taught could be so many — clinging to the near, he doubts the distant; next, from "World-Honored One, these great bodhisattvas" onward is, second, doubting that, since those taught are so many and their stage of practice so profound and subtle, clinging to the distant, he doubts the near; next, from "World-Honored One, a matter such as this" onward is, third, the concluding request. The parable has both an opened-out and a combined, correlated form. The opened-out form has three parts: "his complexion fine, his hair still black" corresponds, above, to the sense of the recent attainment of the path; from "pointing to a man of a hundred years" onward corresponds, above, to the sense of those taught being so many. The masters of Huaibei explain this parable by way of a further parable: a father who has taken the elixir that restores youth appears no older than twenty-five, while his son, who has not taken the elixir, appears a hundred years old — if one knows the power of the elixir, one does not doubt that they are truly father and son, but if one does not know it, one is astonished at the sight. The Tathāgata, likewise, has taken the elixir of manifesting a trace, showing himself born at Gayā only recently, while these bodhisattvas, speaking directly of the true, original ground, aroused the resolve for the path long, long ago and now dwell in the state of never turning back — and if it is only the Buddha, buddha to buddha, who truly and swiftly knows this matter, then it cannot but give rise to doubt in anyone beneath this level who has not yet fathomed it. From "this matter is hard to believe" onward concludes the parable. The first, correlating the near parable, may be understood from the text itself; from "and yet this great assembly" onward correlates the distant parable — contemplating how these bodhisattvas planted good roots long ago, not merely arousing the resolve at Gayā. As for "skillfully entering, emerging, and abiding": the nine successive concentrations are skillful entry, the lion's vigorous roar is skillful emergence, and transcendence is skillful abiding — this is the sense according to the shared teaching; from the first ground to the tenth ground is named skillful entry, and the tenth ground's entry into the gate of redoubled mystery, inversely cultivating the very matters of the ordinary worldling, is named skillful emergence, while the pervasive fullness of sublime awakening is named skillful abiding — this is the sense according to the distinct teaching; and the samādhi that fully realizes the dharma-nature is named skillful entry, the Śūraṅgama samādhi is named skillful emergence, and the sovereign samādhi is named skillful abiding — this is the sense according to the perfect teaching. Cultivating every good dharma in due sequence, considered in terms of the cause, is "skillful practice," and considered in terms of the fruit, is "skillful entry," and so on. As for "skillfully answering the most difficult questions": this is furnished with the twofold adornment. Being the most revered among the seven kinds of expedient practitioners is why it is called "a treasure."

From "World-Honored One, today" onward is the request for an answer, and this, too, has three parts: from "today" onward, citing the Buddha's own words; from "we ourselves" onward is, second, making clear the intent of the request. This intent has two parts: first, on behalf of the present — "though I myself have not fathomed it, I believe it, and that is all"; from "yet these bodhisattvas" onward is, second, on behalf of the future — those of shallow practice readily give rise to slander, and those newly resolved risk falling into an evil path through such slander, while those already at the stage of never turning back, though they believe, would not slander it, yet neither would this increase their own progress on the path. If a proper distinction is drawn, then the one who might slander will instead give rise to faith, and the one who already has faith will have his progress on the path increased, and so on. From "so be it" onward is, third, the request for an answer, and this request, too, has two parts: first, "remove our own doubt"; and, from "and for the sake of those to come" onward, second, remove the doubt of those yet to come.

The verse has fourteen lines, versifying the direct statement and the parable given above: five lines versify the direct statement, and nine lines versify the parable. Within the direct statement's own verse are three parts: the first line versifies clinging to the near; next, from "these sons of the buddhas" onward is, second, two lines and three half-lines, versifying the doubt as to the distant; and last, from "how, then, could" onward is, third, one line and one half-line, versifying the concluding request. Within the verse of the parable, the first two lines versify the opened-out parable; the last, from "the World-Honored One is exactly the same" onward, seven lines, versify the correlated parable. This, too, has three parts: the first two half-lines versify the correlation of the near; next, from "these very bodhisattvas, their resolve" onward is, second, three lines and a half, versifying the correlation of the distant; and last, from "we ourselves, having heard from the Buddha" onward is, third, three lines, versifying the correlation of the request and its answer, and so on.

Explaining the chapter "Lifespan." First, setting out the divergent interpretations. Master Sengrui's preface says: "That the lifespan is immeasurable kalpas is still not enough to make clear its full duration; that the emanation-bodies are without number is still not enough to distinguish that they are of a different substance. This being so, the lifespan settles the matter of its not being any fixed number, and the emanation-bodies make clear that they are not different; Samantabhadra reveals that there is no separate accomplishment apart from this, and Prabhūtaratna makes clear that there is no extinguishing of it." Daolang of Hexi says: "This makes clear that the Dharma-body's true and transformed aspects are not different, and that its abiding and its ceasing are, in principle, one; Prabhūtaratna's appearing makes clear that the Dharma-body constantly abides, and the 'Lifespan' chapter makes clear that it is of the same measure as the great void." The Daochang Contemplation says: "Bringing the three together and returning them to the one is the beginning of the vehicle; extinguishing the trace and clarifying the spirit is the end of the vehicle. 'Extinguishing the trace' means the trace comes to rest; 'clarifying the spirit' makes the origin plain — hence the trace is impermanent while the origin is permanent." A certain annotator says: "What is not subject to the count of existing or perishing is called 'lifespan'; what is beyond the bounds of cultivation, of dying young or living long, is called 'measure.' The Dharma-body is not encompassed by any span of years or forms; it causes the great being, cultivating and treading to the utmost, to be illumined by it — it does not take Gayā as the place where buddhahood was accomplished, nor a hundred years as the fixed span of a lifetime." Zhu Daosheng says: "As for this form-body buddha, he responds and manifests, yet has no real form at all — and if the form itself is not real, how could there be any 'lifespan' to speak of? This being so, the ten thousand forms all arrive at the same point, and past and present become one: the past, too, is the present, and the present, too, is the past; there is no time in which he is not present, no place in which he does not dwell. If there were a time in which he were not present, a place in which he did not dwell, that would only be so from the standpoint of sentient beings — it is not so for the Buddha himself. This is why, when the lifespan is spoken of in its fullest sense, it is said that Gayā is indeed the place — yet, rightly understood, this 'Gayā' is no longer really 'Gayā' at all, and since 'Gayā' itself is negated, how could that 'long span' alone remain fixed and 'so'? Once 'long' and 'short' are both cast away, 'long' and 'short' abide eternally." As the masters of former generations have said, in the way just described, most of them explain permanence in terms of immeasurability; more recent teachers, for the most part, say that the lifespan is a measurable quantity — that it exceeds the sands of the Ganges at first and doubles that number afterward — yet in the end it returns to some outer limit, and so explain it as impermanence. Furthermore, some who are confused hold that since this chapter clarifies "lifespan and measure," and "measure" is impermanent, how could one construe it as permanence? I now answer this: the chapter speaks directly of "lifespan and measure" — it does not say the lifespan has a measure, nor does it say the lifespan is without measure; if I construe it as impermanence and another construes it as permanence, what fault could there be in either? Like a snipe and a clam locked in mutual struggle, I simply take advantage of their exhaustion. One ought to furnish all four readings together: that it is truly finite yet spoken of as infinite, as in the Amitāyus Sūtra; that it is truly infinite yet spoken of as finite, as in this chapter and in the Suvarṇaprabhāsa Sūtra; that it is truly infinite and spoken of as infinite, as when the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says, "Only a buddha together with another buddha knows that his lifespan is immeasurable"; and that it is truly finite and spoken of as finite, as when the Buddha, at eighty years, proclaimed his extinction. The text of this chapter is complete with all these senses — how, then, could it be only one of them, and not all three ways of reading it at once?

Question: If the "Lifespan" chapter makes permanence clear, how does this differ from the Nirvāṇa Sūtra?

I now turn the question back: how does the Lotus Sūtra's one vehicle differ from the Śrīmālā Sūtra's one vehicle (and so on)? If one must answer by way of distinctions: the Lotus makes permanence clear briefly, the Nirvāṇa Sūtra makes permanence clear at length; the Śrīmālā speaks of the one vehicle simply as one, while the Lotus brings the three vehicles together and makes clear that they are one (and so on).

Question: If the near accomplishment is the provisional and the far accomplishment is the real, then the place of stillness and extinction in the Avataṃsaka, and the nine kalpas the Buddha is said to have surpassed in the Great Sūtra, would themselves both be provisional accomplishments. If so, then once the Lotus has finished opening the distant origin, why does the chapter on Sadāparibhūta, "Never Disparaging," still speak of a near accomplishment? One would have to conclude that the Lotus itself has, once again, fallen back into speaking provisionally. And if so, then once the three vehicles have already been brought together and returned to the one, it ought equally to be the case that they are not, after all, truly brought together and returned to the one. And if so, then just as opening the three to reveal the one holds true for every buddha alike, so too must opening the near to reveal the distant hold true for every buddha alike. And if so, then this is true of every buddha, and not of Śākyamuni alone — yet if it belonged to Śākyamuni alone, then every one of the foregoing points would collapse.

Answer: This — my own skillful means — is the same for every buddha as well; and moreover, when the bodhisattvas hear the "Lifespan" chapter, they make the vow: "May I, too, in the future, speak of my own lifespan in just this way." This is precisely what is meant by every buddha alike walking the same path — nor does it privilege either the near or the distant exclusively. One should therefore understand: it is by resorting to what is without beginning and without end, without near and without distant, that the constant abiding of the Dharma-body is revealed; and it is by discussing what has a beginning and an end, a near point and a distant point, that the Buddha's responsive traces are discussed. Applying this principle across the various sūtras, though what is adapted to differs from case to case, in the end there is no real difference at all. Once one has thoroughly understood the assembled sūtras in this way, there is no longer any need to take any single master as one's sole teacher.

Question: Reasoning from the doctrine, permanence may be granted — but what textual basis is there for it?

Answer: One who has understanding values the principle; one who remains in the dark clings only to the letter. To seek out the meaning conveyed and thereby meet the essential doctrine — this is the true intent of the teaching; if one instead clings stubbornly to the husk and chaff of the words alone, what use is there in still asking after the bridge once one has already crossed? Moreover, the teaching is fundamentally given for the sake of particular conditions — as the conditions differ, so does what is said; sometimes it follows what delights, sometimes what is fitting, sometimes what remedies, sometimes what awakens, and once awakening is reached, one has arrived — why linger any longer wandering the crossing paths? This is the meaning of the saying that the true Dharma-jewel of nirvāṇa is entered through beings' many different gates. There is also the matter of how much or how little text is given to a point: the Nirvāṇa Sūtra takes the constant abiding of the Buddha in the future as its main doctrine, and so its text on this point is extensive, while it does not take the long-past accomplishment of buddhahood as its main doctrine, and so its text on this point is scant — yet if one simply followed whichever gets more text and discarded whichever gets less, that would be the talk of Māra, not the Buddha's own teaching. This sūtra takes the long-past accomplishment as its main doctrine, and so its text marking out the dust-mote-numbered worlds is extensive, while its text on constant abiding in the future is scant — and if here, too, one followed whichever gets more and discarded whichever gets less, one's head would be split into seven pieces, like the branch of an āmra tree snapped in violation of a vow. It is like the emperor's own decree: whether long or short, neither may be disobeyed — to disobey it is to incur guilt. The "Skillful Means" chapter says: "The mark of the world constantly abides; having realized this at the place of awakening, the guiding teacher then speaks of it by skillful means" — this passage is precisely about constant abiding, unceasing, in the future. It also says: "I dwell always here." It also says: "I dwell always on Vulture Peak, and in every other dwelling place besides." The Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra says: "The place gathered in and accomplished by the pāramitā of permanence, the place established by the pāramitā of self" — passages such as these, teaching permanence, are likewise not few in number. Moreover, this sūtra everywhere makes the Dharma-body clear — and how could the Dharma-body possibly fail to be permanent?

Question: Since the Dharma-body has been made clear, the Three Virtues ought to be discussed as well.

Answer: The twin wisdoms of the provisional and the real — are these not precisely prajñā? The manifestations throughout the three times — are these not precisely liberation? The true mark that is the original ground — this is precisely the Dharma-body. The text's own way of making the Three Virtues clear is just this.

Explaining the chapter title. "Tathāgata" is the common title shared by the buddhas of the ten directions and the three times — by the twofold Tathāgata, the threefold Tathāgata, and the Tathāgata considered as origin or as trace alike.

"Lifespan" means to give full measure and account of something: it gives full measure of the merit and virtue of the buddhas of the ten directions and the three times, of the twofold Tathāgata and the threefold Tathāgata, of the Tathāgata as origin and as trace.

Here, the primary point is to give full measure of the merit and virtue of the three buddha-bodies at the original ground — and this is why it is called the chapter "The Tathāgata's Lifespan." The senses of "Tathāgata" are extremely numerous; here I shall make clear only the twofold and threefold Tathāgata, and the rest may be understood by analogy. As for the twofold Tathāgata: the Satyasiddhi Śāstra says, "Riding the path of thusness and reality, one comes to accomplish true awakening — hence one is called Tathāgata." "Riding" refers to the wisdom of the thusness of dharmas; "reality" refers to the objective realm of the thusness of dharmas; "the path" is the cause, and "awakening" is the fruit. If one speaks of "riding" alone, thusness has nothing that knows it; if one makes "reality" clear alone, thusness has nothing capable of knowing. Only when the objective realm and the wisdom that knows it are joined together is there any cause and fruit at all: illuminating the realm without yet exhausting it is called the cause, and reaching the very source of it is the fruit — and once the sense of "the path" and "awakening" is thus fulfilled, this is precisely "riding the path of thusness and reality to come and accomplish true awakening," which is the true-body Tathāgata. And by means of the wisdom of thusness and reality, riding the path of thusness and reality, to come and be born within the three realms of existence, manifesting the accomplishing of true awakening — this is the response-body Tathāgata. As for the threefold Tathāgata: the Great Treatise says, "Understanding in accordance with the mark of dharmas, and speaking in accordance with the mark of dharmas — hence one is called Tathāgata." "Thusness" here refers to the objective realm of the thusness of dharmas, which is neither cause nor fruit; whether or not a buddha appears, its nature and mark remain forever constant, pervading every place without the slightest variation — this is "thusness"; and to arrive without ever having moved is "coming" — this points to the Dharma-body Tathāgata. The wisdom of the thusness of dharmas, riding the true path of thusness to come and accomplish sublime awakening, its wisdom matching perfectly with principle — named "thusness" from the side of principle, and named "coming" from the side of wisdom — this is precisely the reward-body Tathāgata. Hence the Treatise says, "Understanding in accordance with the mark of dharmas — hence one is called Tathāgata." And because the objective realm of thusness and the wisdom of thusness are joined together, the Tathāgata is thereby able, everywhere, to manifest the accomplishing of true awakening. Just as mercury, mixed with true gold, can be applied to coat every kind of image, so merit and virtue, joined with the Dharma-body, respond and manifest everywhere it goes, accomplishing the path through the eight aspects of a buddha's life and turning the sublime Dharma-wheel — this is the response-body Tathāgata. Hence the Treatise says, "Speaking in accordance with the mark of dharmas — hence one is called Tathāgata."

The Dharma-body Tathāgata is named Vairocana, which translates as "pervading every place"; the reward-body Tathāgata is named Locana, which translates as "pure and full"; and the response-body Tathāgata is named Śākyamuni, which translates as "one who ferries across the parched and scorched." Yet to take any one of these three Tathāgatas by itself alone will not do. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "It is not the Dharma-body, nor is it prajñā, nor is it liberation — only when these three dharmas are complete together is it called the secret treasury, named the great nirvāṇa." One cannot treat them as simply one or simply different, nor arrange them vertically or horizontally, nor set them apart as separate — only when all three dharmas are viewed together, as one perfect whole, can they be given the provisional name "Tathāgata." The Brahma Net Sūtra, in bringing the Avataṃsaka teaching to its conclusion, takes the lotus dais as the origin and the lotus petals as the branches — this is a particular teaching given for a particular occasion, and yet origin and branches cannot, even so, be separated from one another. The Sūtra Resolving Doubts About the Semblance Dharma, in bringing the Nirvāṇa teaching to its conclusion, says: "Some see Śākyamuni as Vairocana, others as Locana" — this is simply a matter of different beings, with different karmic conditions, seeing him differently; it does not mean there are three separate buddhas. The Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra, in bringing the Lotus teaching to its conclusion, says: "Śākyamuni is named Vairocana" — this, too, is a different name, not a different substance. Gathering together the intent of all these sūtras, one should understand clearly that the three buddha-bodies are neither simply one nor simply different.

Question: This chapter names no three buddhas — how, then, can this reading be justified?

Answer: Though it does not set out the names, it nonetheless contains their meaning in full. The text says, "not thus, not otherwise" and "not as the three realms themselves see the three realms" — this is not the partial thusness but the perfect thusness made manifest, which is precisely the sense of the Dharma-body Tathāgata. It also says, "the Tathāgata sees and knows, exactly as it truly is, the mark of the three realms" — this is precisely the wisdom of thusness matching the objective realm of thusness; the knowledge and vision of the wisdom of all modes is exactly the buddha eye — this is precisely the sense of the reward-body Tathāgata. It also says, "sometimes revealing his own self and his own affairs, sometimes another's self and another's affairs" — this is precisely the sense of the response-body Tathāgata. Now, if the threefold Tathāgata is taken purely in terms of inherent virtue, this is a "horizontal" reading; if taken purely in terms of cultivated virtue — Dharma-body first, reward-body next, response-body last — this, too, is a "vertical" reading. What the present sūtra expounds, in its perfect teaching, is a threefold Tathāgata that is neither vertical nor horizontal — and if even distinguishing the vertical and horizontal Tathāgata already falls short of the sūtra's own present intent, how much more so the Tathāgata of the Tripiṭaka or shared teaching? Furthermore, even where the perfect Tathāgata is made clear prior to the Lotus, this, too, is spoken only from within the trace. The threefold Tathāgata disclosed by "opening the trace to reveal the origin" is permanently distinct from anything found in any other sūtra. The Treatise says: "In order to manifest the accomplishing of great, unsurpassed bodhi, three kinds of bodhi are shown: first, the bodhi of the response-and-transformation body, manifesting wherever it is fitting to manifest — as when the sūtra speaks of 'going forth from the palace of the Śākya clan'; second, the bodhi of the reward buddha, having fulfilled the ten grounds and attained constant nirvāṇa — as when the sūtra says, 'since I actually attained buddhahood, immeasurable, boundless kalpas have passed'; and third, the bodhi of the Dharma buddha, meaning the tathāgatagarbha's own nature, pure and unchanging in nirvāṇa — as when the sūtra says, 'the Tathāgata sees and knows, exactly as it truly is, the mark of the three realms.'" The sūtra contains this meaning in full, and the Treatise supplies its very names — if one did not offer the explanation given above, how could sūtra and treatise ever be brought into accord?

Next, clarifying "lifespan and measure": "lifespan" carries the sense of "receiving." Because true suchness does not stand apart from any dharma, it is called "receiving"; because the objective realm and the wisdom that knows it correspond to one another, it is called "receiving"; and because a single lifetime's karmic reward, received as a hundred years, continues without break, it too is called "receiving." "Measure" means to give full account of something; the word "measure" applies generally and has no single fixed reference — it gives full account of how the Dharma-body Tathāgata takes principle-as-suchness for its life, how the reward-body Tathāgata takes wisdom for its life, and how the response-body Tathāgata takes the shared principle of its karmic conditions for its life; and it gives full account of whether each of these lives is finite, or infinite, or neither finite nor infinite. As for the Dharma-body Tathāgata's life of principle-as-suchness: whether or not a buddha appears, its nature and mark remain forever constant, and one does not speak of it in terms of corresponding or not continuing — it is likewise neither finite nor infinite. The text saying "not thus, not otherwise, not unreal, not real" is precisely giving full account of the Dharma-body's life of principle-as-suchness. In giving full account of the reward-body Tathāgata: the wisdom of thusness matches the objective realm of thusness — the realm giving rise to wisdom is "reward," and wisdom merging with the realm is "receiving." Since the realm is already infinite and boundless, constantly abiding and never extinguished, its wisdom, too, is exactly the same — the capacity and what it covers are equally vast. The text saying, "Such is the power of my wisdom: its light of insight shines without limit, my lifespan lasting countless kalpas, attained through long cultivation of karma," is precisely giving full account of the reward-body Tathāgata's life of wisdom. As for giving full account of the response body: the response body shares in its karmic conditions — where the condition is long, it, too, is long; where the condition is brief, it, too, is brief (and so on) — for what could it possibly be, apart from those very conditions? The text saying, "again and again manifesting birth, again and again manifesting extinction," and also declaring, in each case, a different name, a different length of years, is precisely giving full account of the response buddha's life as shared with its conditions.

Furthermore: the Dharma-body is neither finite nor infinite; the reward-body is finite prior to the vajra-mind and infinite after it; and the response-body is finite insofar as it follows its conditions, yet infinite insofar as its responsive activity never ceases. In the general account, three of these four propositions belong to the sages, and one alone belongs to ordinary beings — "finite and impermanent" is simply not what the Buddha means at all. What earlier teachers have said on this point amounts to the two slanders of exaggeration and diminishment, falsely imputed to the Buddha — if this is not the work of Māra, what is it?

The meaning of these four propositions has now been made plain; but for those who have not yet fully understood, let me sort them out once more through the standard fourfold pattern of permanent and impermanent, first taken separately, then taken together as one. Taken separately: "neither permanent nor impermanent" is the doubled negation carried to its utmost principle, which is the Dharma-body; "permanent" is the reward-body — though the reward-body's wisdom and its objective realm, joined together, are likewise neither permanent nor impermanent, here I take only the sense that its true wisdom, perfectly full, neither arises nor ceases once past the vajra-mind, and on that basis take "permanent" for the reward-body; "both permanent and impermanent" is the response-body — its responsive activity, never exhausted, is "permanent," while its repeated proclaiming of nirvāṇa is named "impermanent"; as for "impermanent," the increasing and advancing of its wisdom-activity prior to the vajra-mind, down to the arising and passing of ordinary beings, are all impermanence. Each of the three buddha-bodies thus takes one proposition, and ordinary beings share the remaining one — this is the distinction drawn according to the distinct teaching. In the perfect teaching's general account, however, each and every Tathāgata possesses all four propositions in full. The Dharma-body's four are: "neither permanent nor impermanent," because it doubly breaks through the eight inversions of both ordinary beings and sages; "permanent," because it is permanent like empty space; "impermanent," because it is free of the ordinary being's inverted view of arising and ceasing; and "both permanent and impermanent," because it is quiescent and yet illuminates both at once. The reward-body's four are: "neither permanent nor impermanent," because its wisdom merges with its objective realm; "permanent," because it surpasses the two lesser vehicles; "impermanent," because it is free of the inverted view of arising and ceasing; and "both permanent and impermanent," because it can illuminate both at once. The response-body's four are: "neither permanent nor impermanent," because it is neither the reward-body nor birth-and-death; "permanent," because its constant responding is uniform; "impermanent," because it shares in impermanence; and "both permanent and impermanent," because both hold true for it at once. Ordinary beings, meanwhile, obtain only the single proposition "impermanent" — yet in the general account, they too can be given all four propositions, though this concerns only the principle of their inherent virtue, which does not yet even have the four propositions as names, let alone their actual functioning in practice — this may be grasped in the mind, without need of further explanation. One body is precisely the three bodies, neither one nor different; one should understand that a single buddha-body already possesses the merit and virtue of every body and every lifespan at once, and that beings, according to their own conditions, perceive and encounter it as longer or shorter. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Ordinary beings and the two lesser vehicles see the Buddha's lifespan as if it were a winter's day; bodhisattvas see it as if it were a spring day; only a buddha sees a buddha's lifespan as immeasurable, as if it were a summer day. Why is this so? Ordinary beings, mired in the earthly plane, are dim and clouded by obstruction; the two lesser vehicles of the Tripiṭaka and shared teachings, though they have severed the four abodes of affliction, do not see the middle way — if they set aside their segment-bound body to receive a Dharma-nature body, not yet having broken through fundamental ignorance, what that land honors is still only the superior response-body; one should understand that the two lesser vehicles see only a winter's day. As for bodhisattvas who have not yet ascended to the grounds or the abodes, what they see is the same as before; but once fundamental ignorance is broken, down to receiving a partial Dharma-body, then, speaking in terms of what is granted, they attain sight of the reward-body's lifespan, while, speaking in terms of what is withheld, this is still only the superior response-body — not yet having exhausted the source of the reward-body, nor reached the utmost limit of the Dharma-nature, what they see of the Buddha's lifespan is still only a spring day. Only a buddha together with another buddha, having exhausted the nature and reached its very source, sees the Dharma-body's lifespan as if it were a summer day."

The Nirvāṇa Sūtra offers three similes for this: among all permanent things, empty space is foremost; among all lifespans, the Tathāgata's is foremost — this is a simile for the Dharma-body's lifespan, without beginning and without end, its nature and mark forever still and clear, not the same as the reward- or response-body. Second, it is likened to the four rivers that all return to the great ocean — this is a simile for how every good the reward-body has cultivated all converges within the ocean of the buddha-reward's lifespan. Third, the Anavatapta Lake gives rise to four great rivers — this is a simile for how the response-body's lifespan issues from the Dharma-body and reward-body, sharing its length or brevity with others. This chapter, in giving full account, makes all three bodies clear together; yet if one asks for a single, distinguishing emphasis, its true focus lies in the reward-body. Why is this so? Because it is fitting both in doctrine and in the text itself. It is fitting in doctrine because the reward-body's wisdom merges above with principle and matches below with response, and all three bodies are thereby made fully complete — hence "fitting in doctrine." It is fitting in the text because "since I attained buddhahood, it has been exceedingly long" is precisely why the Buddha is able to benefit beings throughout the three times: what is thereby accomplished is the Dharma-body, and what does the accomplishing is the reward-body — and because Dharma-body and reward-body are joined, he is able to benefit beings; hence "fitting in the text." Reasoning in this way, the chapter's true intent lies in discussing the merit and virtue of the reward-body buddha.

Furthermore: these various merits and virtues of the three bodies were all first accomplished, long ago, beneath the tree at the original place of awakening — this is called "origin." What was accomplished in between, at today's place of stillness and extinction, is called "trace." In what the various sūtras teach of trace and origin, the Dharma- and reward-bodies accomplished at the place of stillness and extinction are the "origin," and the superior and inferior response-bodies arising from that origin are the "trace." What the present sūtra teaches is different: it takes the three bodies accomplished both at the place of stillness and extinction and in the interval since, and names all of these "trace"; and it takes the three bodies attained, long ago, at the original place of awakening, and names these "origin" — and this is why it differs from the other sūtras. "Without the origin there would be nothing to manifest as trace; without the trace there would be no way to reveal the origin; though trace and origin are distinct, they are inconceivably one." These are Master Sengzhao's own words — yet his intent there lay in the origin found at the place of stillness and extinction.

Furthermore: even trace and origin as centered on the place of stillness and extinction admit of several further kinds. Some take nirvāṇa as the origin, and the response arising from the true as the trace — trace and origin are both empty, and both speech and thought are cut off, and so they are inconceivably one. Some take the conventional as the origin, and the response arising from the conventional as the trace — trace and origin are then profound and vast, and those on the lower grounds cannot reach their outer bounds by speech or thought, and so they, too, are said to be inconceivably one. Some take the middle as the origin, and the response arising from the middle as the trace — trace and origin alike cut off the path of language and extinguish the sphere of mental activity, and so they, too, are said to be inconceivably one.

Furthermore: these three are not really three, and yet not really one either — "neither three nor one" is the origin, and "both three and one" is the trace, and both alike cut off the path of language and extinguish the sphere of mental activity, being inconceivably one. It is not clear which point the various masters intend, exactly, when they speak of trace and origin as "inconceivably one." As gathered here, all four schemes just given belong to the inconceivable oneness found within the trace alone; what points, at a distance, to the original ground is the inconceivable threefold and fourfold scheme taken as the true origin. From this genuine origin the trace is manifested; and by means of this very trace the origin is revealed — though trace and origin are distinct, they are inconceivably one. Trace and origin understood in this way — how could they fail to differ from what the other sūtras teach? How could they fail to differ from what the other masters say?

Question: The various sūtras each speak of the bodhisattva ranks and practices, some in greater number, some in fewer — the Avataṃsaka has forty-one ranks, the Sūtra of the Original Acts That Adorn the Bodhisattva has fifty-two ranks, and both are extensive in name and meaning; yet this sūtra, from beginning to end, says nothing at all of this. How, then, can one say it differs from the others?

Answer: It is as when people of the world cultivate every kind of undertaking, amass every kind of treasure, and seek every kind of rank — yet without a lifespan, what use would wealth or rank be?

The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Suppose an elder begets a single son, and a physiognomist examines him and finds the mark of a short life, unfit to carry on the family line — once the parents know this, they cast the child aside as if he were mere grass." The Dharma-gate is exactly the same: practicing every kind of cause, obtaining every kind of fruit, manifesting every kind of spiritual power, transforming every kind of assembly, teaching every kind of Dharma, and delivering every kind of person — all of this lies within the ocean of the Tathāgata's own lifespan. And what could the throat, the collar, the eye, and the sash be — each its own vital point, yet all belonging to the same single body — within that ocean's own essential unity of the Dharma-nature, wisdom, and response, if not simply one and the same?

In broadly opening the near to reveal the distant, the text falls into two parts: first, the exhortation to believe; second, the direct answer. The Buddha's own intent, in this exhortation, is that the assembly's acceptance itself constitutes belief. This passage contains three exhortations and three requests, with the request repeated and the exhortation repeated again; in the trace gate there were three requests and a single exhortation, while here there are four requests and four exhortations — reckoning both together, front and back, there are five exhortations in all and seven requests, showing how extraordinary and momentous this matter is, and how earnest and solemn the whole exchange. "Sincere" means utterly loyal and faithful; "true" means fully examined and verified — not to deceive any being, in speech, is to arrive at what is genuine. In the past, the seven kinds of expedient teaching spoke in accordance with others' own intent, and so did not proclaim the sincere truth; now, speaking in accordance with his own intent, the Buddha shows what is essential directly — hence "sincere and true." Once the bodhisattvas have received this sincere exhortation, they no longer dare to entertain any doubt; on hearing it they are certain to take it on faith, believing and accepting these sincere words.

The direct answer has both a prose section and a verse section. The prose section falls into two parts: the dharma-explanation, and the parable-explanation. The dharma-explanation itself falls into two parts: first, benefiting beings across the three times; second, the summary conclusion that none of it is false. Ordinary feeling sees only the present eighty years, and does not know that the past is without any final limit, nor that the future will never cease — hence the near is opened to reveal the distant by way of the three times. This kind of benefit is not the Buddha's alone; every buddha does the same, and hence the summary conclusion that none of it is false. Within the dharma-explanation, the words concerning the future are few; within the verses of the parable-explanation, the text is more extensive (and so on).

The text on benefiting beings in the past falls into two parts: first, from "the Tathāgata's secret" onward, setting out the state of mind that clings to the near; second, from "yet, good sons" onward, breaking through the near to reveal the distant. The first falls into three further parts: first, setting out the dharma that is mistaken; second, setting out the assembly that makes this mistake; third, setting out what is meant by being mistaken about the distant.

As for "secret": one body being precisely the three bodies is called "concealed"; the three bodies being precisely one body is called "hidden." And what was never spoken of in the past is called "concealed"; what only the Buddha himself knows is called "hidden." As for "the power of spiritual penetration": this is the function of the three bodies. "Spirit" is the naturally unmoving principle — this is the Dharma-nature body; "penetration" is unobstructed, inconceivable wisdom — this is the reward-body; "power" is capable and unhindered function — this is the response-body. Throughout the three times, the Buddha equally possesses these three bodies, yet has kept this concealed and untransmitted in every teaching he has given — and this is why every being in every world, gods, humans, and asuras alike, supposes that the present Buddha first attained these three bodies beneath the tree of awakening, and so clings to the near, doubting the distant. This original explanation no longer speaks of the two lesser vehicles, addressing only the bodhisattvas; the bodhisattvas are already included among the three wholesome destinies of gods, humans, and asuras, while beings in the remaining three evil destinies bear heavy offenses, dull faculties, and little wisdom, and so are incapable of holding even this kind of view. This is why the Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says only, "the Great Vehicle surpasses gods, humans, and asuras," without mentioning the three evil paths at all. Bodhisattvas are of three kinds: those from beneath the earth, those from other lands, and those long resident here. Those from beneath the earth are precisely those the Buddha originally transformed, and so they have no clinging to the near at all. Those from other lands and those long resident here are each further of two kinds: first, those born in response from the Dharma-body — having, in a former life, already attained non-arising, or having already heard the disclosing of the trace to reveal the origin, then, even if they have not yet heard that the reward-body's own recompense is exhausted upon receiving the Dharma-nature body, they should, from the very ground of the Dharma-body itself, be able to hear this teaching of the far-distant past — and so response-born bodhisattvas, for the most part, have no clinging to the near; second, those who have only now, in this present life, first attained the acceptance of non-arising, and those who have not yet attained it at all — these alike hold this mistaken view.

From "yet, good sons, since I truly attained buddhahood" onward is the second part: making clear the breaking through of this clinging and the dispelling of this delusion, so as to reveal the far-distant origin — the earlier exhortation to sincere truth was made precisely for the sake of this. This itself falls into two parts: first, revealing the distant; second, from "from that time until now" onward, making clear what is fitting in benefiting beings in the past. The first falls into two further parts: first, the dharma-explanation revealing the distant; second, offering a parable to measure and confirm the dharma-explanation. "Since I attained buddhahood, it has been exceedingly long" at once breaks through the notion of a near Gayā; breaking the near to reveal the distant carries, in brief, ten distinct senses, as set out in the Fahua Xuanyi (and so on). The text here makes direct use of breaking the near to reveal the distant: breaking the near breaks through the clinging state of mind, while revealing the distant sets aside the near teaching itself.

The parable falls into three parts: first, presenting the parable as a question; second, the answer; third, the correlation, making the long-distant span manifest. Other sūtras, in making clear a number beyond all telling, use similes such as dust-motes and river sands; set against this sūtra, however, those are still comparatively few — for even the worlds that received a dropped dust-mote alone are already beyond telling, how much more so those that received none at all? The worlds that received a mote and those that did not are already beyond telling; how much more, then, could the individual motes within those worlds, received or not, ever be told? And how much more still whatever lies even beyond this? From "Maitreya and the others" onward is the second part: the answer, citing three kinds of persons who cannot know the number. The correlation of the parable follows the text directly.

From "from that time until now" onward, making clear what is fitting in benefiting beings falls into three parts: first, the place of benefiting beings; second, dispelling the doubt raised concerning the trace; third, from "if there are beings who come into my presence" onward, directly making clear what is fitting in benefiting beings. The place must be made clear because the parable just cited spoke of so vast a span of time — but dwelling for so long, where has he dwelt? Hence it says he constantly dwells in this land and in other lands as well, carrying out the buddha-work, exactly as the text says.

From "in the interval between" onward dispels the doubt raised concerning the trace — a doubt about the cause and a doubt about the fruit. What the earlier teaching taught, of practicing the cause in place after place and receiving the prediction in place after place, is precisely this doubt about the fruit. The present passage dispels this doubt: pointing to Dīpaṃkara Buddha dispels the doubt about the cause, and further saying that he entered nirvāṇa dispels the doubt about the fruit — and since this cause and this fruit are, in truth, not one single continuous thread at all, everything is simply my own skillful means, not a statement of literal fact, and this is why it is called "dispelling the doubt." Some say that the skillful teaching that Dīpaṃkara Buddha was my own teacher is actually a case of Śākyamuni himself manifesting as that buddha — not really being born yet manifesting birth, not really ceasing yet manifesting cessation — and this is why it is said, again, that he entered nirvāṇa. I hold that this is not so, and take only the earlier explanation. Why is this? Because Dīpaṃkara Buddha's own conditions had, at that time, already matured, and so he transformed beings by means of a buddha's own image; my own conditions had not yet matured, and so, as a bodhisattva, I simply received the prediction from that buddha — receiving the prediction is precisely the sense of the fruit, and practicing the practices is precisely the cause, and the text's own meaning is thereby fully accounted for. The word "his" refers only to the "his" of the transforming activity carried out in the interval — it does not refer to Dīpaṃkara at all. Moreover, the benefiting of beings in this interval brings both a benefit through form and a benefit through sound: to say "I encountered Dīpaṃkara Buddha" is the benefit through form; and to say, further, that he entered nirvāṇa is that, after that buddha's extinction, he aided in spreading his teaching — this is the benefit through sound. If this is so, then both the benefit through form and the benefit through sound belong entirely to the cause accomplished in the interval. And since there was a birth marked by form and sound, birth necessarily entails death, and death here means entering nirvāṇa — this alone is what is meant by "fruit." One cannot say that buddhahood, as a fruit, had already been accomplished within this interval. Why not? Because prior to the Lotus, buddhahood had not yet been spoken of at all — how, then, could there be any doubt about a "fruit of buddhahood" to begin with? The old view that Dīpaṃkara was myself in manifestation is likewise mistaken: no sūtra prior to the Lotus discusses buddhahood as already accomplished in the past — by which teaching, then, could it be said that Dīpaṃkara was my own manifestation, so as to dispel this doubt?

From "if there are beings who come into my presence" onward is the third part, directly making clear what is fitting in benefiting beings, which itself falls into two parts: first, stimulus and response; second, bestowing transformation. "Come into my presence" means that beings of the past, whether of gradual or of sudden capacity, silently reach and touch the Dharma-body. "Observing with the buddha eye" means that, having long ago already attained buddhahood, the Buddha uses the buddha eye to survey and illuminate without the slightest omission or error, about to rouse forth the inferior and the superior response accordingly, in order to benefit them. Wholesome capacity, in general, carries two powers: one, to bring about the flowering reward of birth among gods and humans; the other, to bring about the fruit-reward of the buddha path. If one observes with only the dharma eye, one knows every good deed and, according to whether its condition is weighty or light, sees each attain its own flowering reward, yet cannot ultimately know that it will, in the end, attain the fruit-reward of the wisdom of all modes; but with the buddha eye, one perfectly illuminates every good deed and knows both its beginning and its end. This sūtra teaches, uniformly, that the buddha eye observes and knows that every good deed of every being will, in the end, attain buddhahood — this is the true intent of the one great cause and condition for which the Buddha appears in the world.

"Faith and the other faculties" means the five faculties beginning with faith. The faculty of wisdom is precisely the revealing cause, and the remaining faculties are the conditioning cause. These two good roots each have their sharp and dull forms, embracing, together, the capacities of both sudden and gradual practitioners: the sharp and dull of the sudden capacities are precisely the faculties of the perfect and distinct teachings, and the sharp and dull of the gradual capacities are precisely the faculties of the Tripiṭaka and shared teachings. And again, the Hīnayāna faculty is called dull, and the Mahāyāna faculty is called sharp; or again, the Hīnayāna faculty is called sharp, and the vehicle of gods and humans is called dull. It is the sharpness or dullness of whatever good roots the beings of the ten dharma-realms possess that constitutes their capacity — evil dharmas are not made use of here, since evil is neither the conditioning nor the revealing cause. The Tathāgata illuminates the wholesome capacity of all ten realms without exception, and, according to what each is fit to be brought across by, manifests form and sound to enrich and benefit them.

From "in various places, declaring of himself" onward directly makes clear what is fitting for the response and transformation, which itself falls into two parts: first, the benefit through form and sound; second, the joy of gaining benefit. The benefit through form itself falls into two parts: first, making clear not truly being born yet manifesting birth; second, not truly ceasing yet manifesting cessation. "Declaring of himself different names" means that, once a form has manifested, it necessarily has a name — the name summons the substance; capacities differ in being superior or inferior, and forms differ in being excellent or lesser, and since the forms differ, the names differ accordingly. "Different lengths of years" refers precisely to whether the form is excellent or lesser: the excellent is the superior response-body, and the lesser is the inferior response-body. "Different names" refers to the two buddha-bodies manifesting a lifespan that is either finite or infinite. "In various places" means, read vertically, the various lands where he practiced the cause in the past; read horizontally, it means the lands of the ten directions. The differing of names, read vertically by place, also involves a differing of the names given to birth and to the dharma — as when the present response-body is set against past buddhas such as Dīpaṃkara; and read horizontally by land, there is likewise a differing of names given to birth and to the dharma, as when the present is set against the emanation-buddhas, just as the Avataṃsaka's ten epithets list a number of different names for Śākyamuni. This concerns the differing names of the body manifested within the buddha-realm alone; if one were to consider the differing names of the bodies manifested within the other nine dharma-realms, these would be immeasurable and boundless — this may be grasped in the mind.

"Different lengths of years" makes clear the length of the lifespan itself, following whatever response-body has just been manifested: sometimes it is said to be twenty thousand years, as in the time of Kāśyapa Buddha; sometimes it is said to be eighty thousand years, as in the time of Maitreya Buddha — passed down and cross-referenced, the greater and the lesser, the vertical and the horizontal, can all be understood accordingly. As for the greater and lesser lifespans of the Dharma-, reward-, and response-bodies, this is set out in the Fahua Xuanyi (and so on). Sometimes the three bodies are measured against one another in terms of greater and lesser; sometimes each of the three bodies, taken separately, is called lesser, while taken together they are called greater — comparable to the three dots of the letter ī (and so on). All of this is simply a matter of manifesting, for whatever beings are to be brought across, a body and a lifespan of whatever length is fitting.

"Also declaring that he is about to enter nirvāṇa" means that, for those who attain deliverance through his manifesting extinction, he accordingly manifests extinction, causing them, through longing and admiration, to attain liberation. This same meaning is manifested below, in the parable-explanation. "And by every kind of skillful means, teaching the subtle and wondrous Dharma" is the manifest benefit through sound. A lesser body and a short lifespan correspond to teaching the gradual doctrine, hence "every kind of skillful means"; a great body and a long lifespan correspond to teaching the sudden doctrine, hence "teaching the subtle and wondrous Dharma." Though beginning with the gradual, he brings all, in the end, into the great vehicle — hence "causing them all to attain joy." And this very joy is precisely the benefit gained through his bestowing transformation: the Buddha, relying on the four siddhāntas, bestows the twin benefits of form and sound, and beings obtain the four benefits accordingly — where it matches their capacity, they rejoice, and where it goes against their capacity, they are troubled. The text below, saying "all of it entirely true, never false," expresses precisely this same meaning.

From "good sons, the Tathāgata sees" onward is the benefiting of beings in the present through the samādhi of the lion's swift stride. This samādhi carries ten kinds of merit: first, discerning whether another's faculties are ripe or unripe, pure or impure; second, teaching, through the Tathāgata's Dharma-wheel, those not yet delivered, so that all enter the Dharma and its discipline; third, the great vow pervading the ten directions, and its sound likewise pervading — sometimes a single sound pervades everywhere, sometimes a hundred thousand myriad sounds all pervade everywhere alike, universally teaching every kind of being; fourth, turning the unsurpassed wheel, transforming beings so that all attain extinction — no one else is able to turn it, the Buddha alone can turn it; fifth, being able to show going forth from the household, shaving the head, and upholding the pure precepts, and also able to bring joy to others; sixth, its nature and conduct being joined with emptiness; seventh, emitting light and manifesting cessation, whether abiding or departing, whether showing the excellent marks or concealing them; eighth, subduing the four Māras; ninth, causing others to enter what is essential and to increase śamatha and vipaśyanā; tenth, being complete with the roots of the ten good deeds above, the three of body and the four of speech, and so on (and so on). This passage falls into two parts: first, making clear the capacity that stirs the response; second, making clear the response and transformation itself. "The Tathāgata sees" means precisely the illumination of the buddha eye. "Beings who delight in the lesser teachings" is the capacity that is seen.

The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "Though the great assembly is pure, there are others who delight in the lesser teachings — should they give rise to doubt and regret, decaying and afflicted through the long night of saṃsāra, out of pity for them I remain silent." The verse says: "The others, not long in practice, whose wisdom is not yet clear, rely on consciousness and not on wisdom; having heard it, they would give rise to worry and regret, and would fall into an evil destiny — mindful of this, I do not speak." Examining that sūtra, it has no śrāvakas or pratyekabuddhas among its assembly at all; it points only to those not long in practice as the ones who "delight in the lesser teachings."

The Master says: those who "delight in the lesser" are not, strictly speaking, followers of the Hīnayāna — rather, whoever delights in the near teaching is, for that reason, called "lesser." I shall now give a comprehensive explanation of this: those greedily attached to the twenty-five realms of existence — the capacity of gods and humans — who come into my presence, are named of "lesser dharma"; those who greedily delight in nirvāṇa, seeking their own liberation alone — the capacity of the two lesser vehicles — who come into my presence, are likewise named "delighting in the lesser dharma"; and those who delight in the gradual and roundabout path to buddhahood — the capacity of the three kinds of provisional bodhisattva — who come into my presence, are likewise named "delighting in the lesser dharma." As for "thin in merit": the functioning power of the conditioning and revealing good roots is slight and weak. The text below says, "my sons are still young and immature." As for "heavy with defilement": the afflictions of views and of thought have not yet been removed.

Question: Not truly being born yet manifesting birth is a way of bestowing both the sudden and the gradual transformations together — the seven kinds of expedient practitioner may well be counted among those who "delight in the lesser dharma," but those to whom the sudden and perfect teaching responds ought to be exactly those who delight in the great teaching. How, then, can this be uniformly judged as "delighting in the lesser dharma"?

Answer: Just now I gave only the outline of this sense; let me now explain it fully, in four distinct meanings altogether. First, with regard to former days: though such beings had roused the great resolve, they were unable to apply themselves single-mindedly, and, largely attached to their own base desires, could not go forth from the household life — hence their base desires are named "the lesser dharma." Second, with regard to the present: while the Buddha had not yet appeared in the world, the gods and humans, though they possessed the capacity for the great teaching, had hearts stained by worldly pleasures and attached to wrong views, and so are named as "delighting in the lesser dharma."

These first two senses correspond in meaning to the parable below of "writhing upon the ground." Third, with regard to practice: though such beings do not delight in the base desires and the lesser dharmas of the three realms, they delight in the ashen extinction of the three vehicles, and this, too, is named "the lesser dharma"; and though they do not delight in the near fruits of the three vehicles, they delight in cultivating the one vehicle by traversing its stages one by one, unable to cultivate it fully, all at once, with a single perfect and sudden mind — hence this, too, is named "delighting in the lesser." These three senses concern the gate of the cause, making clear what "delighting in the lesser dharma" means. Fourth, with regard to the gate of the fruit: delighting in hearing of the lesser matter of a near accomplishment — going forth from the palace of the Śākya clan and only then attaining bodhi — and having no wish to hear of the great and far-distant path, is likewise called "delighting in the lesser." Such a lesser-minded disposition did not begin only today; had beings truly delighted in the great from the very start, the Buddha would never have spoken of a near accomplishment at all — whenever he speaks of a near accomplishment, it is entirely for the sake of those who delight in the lesser dharma.

From "for the sake of such people, I say" onward is the second part: the response and transformation in the present, which itself falls into two parts: first, not truly being born yet manifesting birth; second, not truly ceasing yet manifesting cessation. Manifesting birth itself falls into two parts: first, manifesting birth itself; second, the benefit thereof. Manifesting birth itself falls into two further parts: manifesting birth, and not truly being born. "Manifesting birth" means the trace itself manifests as birth; "not truly being born" means it is not, in fact, the beginning of any birth at all. "For the sake of such people, I say that I first attained bodhi" — the passage above made clear the two capacities, sharp and dull, that come to touch the Dharma-body; here it manifests the two responses, superior and inferior, in turn — the inferior response answers the dull faculty, and the superior response answers the sharp faculty. Both of these responses have, moreover, a birth of the physical body and a birth of the Dharma-body. As for the inferior response's birth of the physical body: entering the womb through correct wisdom, being born and taking seven steps, as related of Mahākātyāyana's own account, down through the six years of ascetic practice and beyond — this is called the birth of the physical body. As for its birth of the Dharma-body: this is precisely the exhaustion of every bond and habit through the thirty-four mind-moments, whereby the five-part Dharma-body attained is exactly this. As for the superior response's birth of the physical body: as the Avataṃsaka and the Great Sūtra explain, dwelling within Māyā's womb together with the bodhisattvas, constantly expounding the Mahāyāna, and going forth to the ten directions, taking seven steps in each — this is called the birth of the physical body. As for its birth of the Dharma-body: at the place of stillness and extinction, with the mind after the vajra breaking through fundamental ignorance entirely, attaining the wisdom conjoined with sublime awakening, exhaustively illuminating the Dharma-nature, its ten thousand virtues and the wisdom of all modes perfectly bright and universally complete — this is called the birth of the Dharma-body. As for "going forth from the household": the inferior response goes forth from the household of segment-bound birth and death, while the superior response goes forth from the household of the two kinds of death. As for "attaining bodhi": the inferior response attains the outflow-free wisdom of non-arising aroused through the conditioned Four Noble Truths, which is named bodhi; the superior response is precisely the illumination of the one real path of the three truths, whose wisdom of all modes is bodhi.

From "yet I truly attained" onward makes clear that the origin is, in truth, unborn; it is only that gods, humans, and asuras, seeing these two kinds of physical-body and Dharma-body birth, suppose them to be an actual beginning of birth — but this is not so. In truth, I attained these physical- and Dharma-bodies long, long ago, and today's birth is not a real birth at all — hence it says, "so long and distant as this." "As this" refers to the long duration set out in the parable above. From "only by means of skillful means" onward makes clear: since this is not, in fact, a real birth, why manifest birth at all? It is in order to benefit those who delight in the lesser dharma, whose merit is thin and whose defilement is heavy, and to cause them to attain the buddha path — hence it says, "only by means of skillful means, teaching and transforming beings." "Speaking in this way" means not truly being born, yet manifesting birth — hence it says, "speaking in this way." Other sūtras break through only the inferior response's birth of the physical body as not truly being birth, without yet breaking through even the inferior response's birth of the Dharma-body as not truly being birth; the present sūtra breaks through, directly, the superior response's birth of the Dharma-body as not truly being birth as well. Why is this? Because, since I truly attained buddhahood so long and distant a time ago, one thereby knows that today's birth of the Dharma-body, whether of the inferior or the superior response, is entirely broken through as not truly being birth at all — and this is permanently different from what any other sūtra teaches.

From "what the Tathāgata expounds" onward is the second part: making clear the manifest-birth benefit through form and sound — first making clear form and sound themselves, then making clear that none of it is false. "Speaking" is the teaching through sound; "showing" is the manifestation through form. Form and sound do not go beyond self and other: to speak of the Dharma-body is to speak of one's own self, while to speak of the response-body is to speak of another's benefit; to say "I encountered Dīpaṃkara Buddha" is to speak of one's own self, while "Dīpaṃkara was my teacher" is to speak of another's self; to show one's own direct retribution is to show one's own affairs, while to manifest one's own dependent retribution is to show another's affairs; speaking in accordance with another's own intent is speaking of another's self, while speaking in accordance with one's own intent is speaking of one's own self. Showing one's own and another's affairs follows this same pattern. "Everything spoken is entirely true, never false" itself falls into two parts: first, making clear that none of it is false; second, explaining why none of it is false.

The first part concerns, specifically, the benefit through sound not being false; the explanation then explains, doubly, why none of it is false. As for the first, "not false": both the gradual and the sudden capacities, receiving these two kinds of benefit through form and sound, are equally, truly benefited. The passage above, on the past, made clear that all rejoice — as if this were merely the benefit of the mundane siddhānta; the present passage makes clear that none of it is false, in that form and sound, superior and inferior alike, meet the two capacities and, through them, obtain all four siddhāntas, none of them false. The Great Treatise makes clear that the four siddhāntas are all equally real: the mundane is real, and the therapeutic and individual are real as well; yet, argued strictly, these three are "real" only within the world's own conventions, and this very "reality" is, from another angle, unreal, since within these same conditions there is also a worldly reality of the three, while the ultimate-meaning siddhānta alone is truly beyond even that. If one applies this same reality and unreality to the two gates of trace and origin, the benefit received by gradual and sudden practitioners is likewise both unreal and real: in the past, the provisional practice, not yet attaining the benefit of the real path, was, in its cause, unreal; and clinging to the near trace, not yet attaining the true and real benefit of the original ground, was, in its fruit, unreal as well. Now, hearing the teaching of the trace gate and equally entering the true mark of reality, one attains the real benefit within the cause; and hearing the teaching of the origin gate, one removes the very state of mind that clings to the near, and attains the real benefit of the far-distant fruit-ground. What is obtained now is thus two real benefits, set against the two unreal ones of before. As for beings of the perfect and sudden capacity: within the two gates of trace and origin, one real and one unreal, they attain the practice of the middle way — this is attaining the real benefit within the cause, while still clinging to the near fruit, which remains, in that respect, unreal; now, hearing the teaching of the cause, they gain no further separate real benefit beyond what they already had, but hearing the teaching of the distant fruit, they at once attain the real benefit of the fruit itself — where before there was one unreal element, now there is one real one attained — and this is why it is said that everything is entirely true, never false.

Question: The true mark of reality disclosed by the Mahāyāna, whether spoken of formerly or now — should there be any difference between those who awaken to it earlier and those who awaken to it later?

Answer: Whether one enters first or enters afterward — down even to demolishing the grass hut and entering, in common, the middle way — the entering itself may be gradual or sudden, and it is on this basis alone that the two teachings are distinguished. It is exactly parallel to entering the truth of the ultimate: the dull enter it relying on the analytical method and the contemplation of impermanence and the like, while the sharp make use of the contemplation that emptiness is inherent in phenomena themselves — and it is on this basis alone that the Tripiṭaka and shared teachings are distinguished.

From "why is this so — the Tathāgata sees and knows, exactly as it truly is" onward is the second part: the summary explanation of why benefiting beings is never false. First, explaining the benefit through form; after that, explaining the benefit through words, and why it, too, is never false. The six clauses here reveal that the response-body never departs from the Dharma-body: the Dharma-body has no form, and so, likewise, no arising or ceasing; it is beings who possess the capacity for arising and ceasing that touch the Dharma-body, and the Tathāgata's own vow-power responds by seeming to arise and cease along with them — this very seeing of arising and ceasing issues from beings themselves, and this is why the various clauses are set out here in terms of the three realms. This itself falls into two parts: first, illuminating the principle without falsity; second, from "because beings have" onward, making clear that matching their capacity is likewise without falsity — comprehending the principle and matching the capacity, in setting out the teaching to transform beings, is necessarily never false. "Seeing and knowing exactly as it truly is" is precisely real wisdom, illuminating, in accordance with principle, the reality of the three realms — and this reality is precisely that the three realms have no causal mark of their own at all.

"There is no birth and death" means there is no suffering of the two kinds of death. The arising of accumulation is called "retreating"; the manifesting of the fruit of impermanence is called "emerging." There is likewise neither an abiding in the world of birth and death nor an entering into the extinction of nirvāṇa — both of these are equally extinguished, and hence it says, "nor is there one who abides in the world, nor one who attains extinction." It is neither the reality of extinction nor the unreality of birth and death — hence it says, "not real, not unreal." It is neither the separateness of the mundane nor the true suchness of what transcends the mundane — hence it says, "not thus, not otherwise." These four together make the middle way clear. When both extremes are doubly negated, and the concluding clause then fixes on one extreme — as, for instance, "neither birth nor death," concluding with "birth"; "both birth and death," concluding with "death"; "both retreating and emerging," concluding with "retreating"; "neither retreating nor emerging," concluding with "emerging"; "neither unreal nor real," concluding with "real"; "both unreal and real," concluding with "unreal" — every formulation of this kind is now negated in turn, down to negating even the single, the compound, and the fully comprehensive formulations as well, and only then is the intent of the middle way truly revealed.

"Not as the three realms themselves see the three realms" means it is unlike what the two kinds of beings within the three realms perceive as the mark of the three realms; only the Buddha alone illuminates, exhaustively and exactly as it truly is, the reality of the three realms, possessing within himself the very function of real wisdom — and this, too, is speaking in accordance with his own intent, and this, too, is sometimes speaking of his own self's affairs; hence the Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says, "within the ultimate meaning there is nothing at all to be distinguished." As for the Tathāgata's provisional wisdom, knowing and seeing the mark of the three realms exactly as they are measured, this corresponds to how beings within the three realms themselves see them: knowing and seeing, exactly as it truly is, that there is no such thing as the two kinds of death, yet, in accordance with others' own intent, manifesting a body subject to the two kinds of death and speaking of them as if they existed; that there is neither retreating nor emerging, yet, in accordance with others' own intent, speaking of retreating and emerging as if they existed; that there is neither one who abides in the world nor one who attains extinction, yet, in accordance with others' own intent, manifesting birth in the world and manifesting entry into nirvāṇa, speaking of one who abides in the world and one who attains extinction as if they existed; that there is no reality, yet speaking of the reality of nirvāṇa; that there is no unreality, yet speaking of the unreality of the three realms; that there is no distinction among the three times, yet speaking as if there were; that there is no suchness of ultimate truth, yet speaking as if there were. To be identical with the three realms in seeing the three realms is, in every case, speaking in accordance with others' own intent, and is named "sometimes speaking of another's self's affairs," or "showing another's self's affairs." Because the Tathāgata's twin wisdoms clearly discern the two truths, the twin benefits of form and word are, for this very reason, entirely true, never false.

From "because beings" onward is the second part: explaining why matching capacity is never false — first making clear the stimulus that meets the response, then discussing the bestowing of transformation. Because beings differ in the sharpness or dullness of their faculties, in being gradual or sudden practitioners, and in every kind of difference of nature, desire, conduct, and wisdom, and because the Buddha wishes to cause each of them to increase their own good roots, he speaks of the teaching of self and other, of causes and conditions and parables — none of it false. The natures of gradual and sudden practitioners each have every kind of variety, and this requires the use of the individual siddhānta; the individual siddhānta exists precisely for the sake of generating good roots. Good roots are still a matter of nature, and habituated desire becomes nature — why, then, speak of nature first and desire afterward? The explanation is this: because there is an original day's nature and faculty, it is able to give rise to today's desire and delight — just as, because there are afflictions, there are the five aggregates, and, because there are the five aggregates, there are further afflictions again, neither strictly before nor after the other; nature and desire are exactly the same, for it is precisely through habituated desire that nature comes to be formed. "Desire" refers to the two capacities, gradual and sudden; where their kinds of desire and delight differ from one another, this requires the use of the mundane siddhānta. "Conduct" means giving rise to karmic activity, cultivating the various practices in accordance with one's own desire and delight, and this requires the use of the individual siddhānta. Where, within such conduct, excessive attachment gives rise to hindrance, this requires the use of the therapeutic siddhānta. "Thought and reflection" is wisdom — that is, an approximate understanding: through cultivation and practice, understanding is able to arise, though this is still only a skillful means, not yet matching principle exactly, still without the path beyond words, still a contemplation involving thought and reflection; gradual and sudden beings, dwelling at the level of the inner and outer stages of ordinary beings, possess various good roots and desires — because of this desire they cultivate practice, and because of this practice they attain an approximate understanding — this requires the use of the ultimate-meaning siddhānta: according to whatever understanding through thought and reflection they have attained, the Dharma is taught further for their sake, and they thereby attain a bright awakening to the ultimate meaning. Even up through the first ground, when one desires and delights in cultivating the practices of the second ground, one still reflects, in thought, upon the objective realm of the second ground — this, too, is thought and reflection; but once the true understanding of the second ground actually arises, this contemplation of thought and reflection is removed, and the path of language is extinguished — and only when one reaches buddhahood is one finally, altogether, free of thought and reflection, and attains the constant stillness and illumination.

From "wishing to cause them to give rise" onward is the second part: directly matching capacity. Bestowing the benefit through the sound of self and other, in order to cause every kind of gradual and sudden capacity to give rise to every kind of good root, he manifests a certain number of self-and-other bodily affairs, a certain number of self-and-other teachings through sound, and a certain number of causes, conditions, and parables. In response to gradual capacities, he uses, within the Tripiṭaka teaching's four approaches, a certain number of causes, conditions, and parables, and within each single approach there are, again, a certain number more — as, for those who are indolent, teaching the forbearance of suffering, and for those who are prideful, teaching the forbearance of impermanence, and so on. The shared teaching's four approaches are exactly the same. In response to sudden capacities, such as the distinct and perfect teachings, there are likewise, within each, four approaches and every kind of variety — as when the thirty-two bodhisattvas each speak of entering the Dharma-gate of nonduality, or the various forms of practice found throughout the Avataṃsaka — all of these are given, according to every kind of capacity, in a certain number of parables and expressions, in teaching the Dharma. "The buddha-work he does has never, even for a moment, ceased" is the summary conclusion that none of it is false. All the self-and-other forms and sounds set out above cause beings to enter the Buddha's own knowledge and vision — this is no small matter concerning gods, humans, or the two lesser vehicles alone, and hence it is called "the buddha-work." If a single person alone attained extinction while all others did not, then the buddha-work would, in that respect, have ceased — and this cessation would mean the assembly failed to attain any real benefit at all; how, then, could this possibly be reconciled with "everything entirely true, never false"? How could everything be true? In the past it was said that, sitting at the place of awakening, I attained not a single real dharma; the seven kinds of expedient practitioner attained no ultimate extinction at all, and the two nirvāṇas were themselves but an empty fist held out as a skillful means — and one thereby knows that this alone was false, and "entirely true" had not yet been seen. If, in the past, the seven provisional teachings had been bestowed and yet beings never, in the end, entered the one real teaching, then one might indeed call it false. But the false leads beings out, and there is no case of being led out falsely without, in the end, entering the real — and this is why one knows that the falsity of the past was, itself, for the sake of the real. "Everything entirely true, never false, and the buddha-work never ceasing" is precisely this same meaning.

From "Since I attained buddhahood, it has been an exceedingly vast and long-distant time" onward, the text makes clear apparent parinirvāṇa though not actually extinct, and this itself falls into two parts: first, making clear apparent parinirvāṇa though not actually extinct; second, from "the Tathāgata, by means of this skillful expedient" onward, making clear the benefit of manifesting extinction. The first part itself falls into two: first, making clear that the true, original ground is never actually extinguished; second, from "yet now" onward, making clear the proclaiming of extinction within the trace. "Since I attained buddhahood" onward makes clear the constancy of the fruition-stage — being constant, it is therefore never extinguished — and these four characters alone are entrusted with making clear how, in the future, its vast and majestic power abides constantly, benefiting beings. From "what I originally practiced" onward, the cause is cited to set the fruit in relief, thereby making clear this constant abiding.

Scholars of an earlier generation, appealing to this very passage, sought to prove that the Buddha's lifespan is impermanent, saying: since the number given first exceeds the sands of the Ganges and the number given afterward is a further doubling beyond that, this can only be a lifespan prolonged by supernatural power — and hence still impermanent. But this seizes upon a wayward reading of the text's meaning and loses a very great deal in the process. The sūtra cites the cause in order to set the fruit in relief — and that fruit is precisely beyond all counting. The sūtra says that the lifespan attained through long ages of cultivated practice is "innumerable kalpas" — this is not a lifespan merely prolonged through supernatural power! Why is this so? When the Buddha, cultivating the perfect cause, ascended to the initial abode, he had already attained a constant lifespan — a constant lifespan beyond all reckoning, already doubling beyond any number given before it — how much more so, then, the fruit itself? How, then, can one discard the very fruit that this cause was cited to set in relief, and instead cling stubbornly only to the cause that was doing the citing? Even granting that this cause is already constant and not impermanent — it is exactly as with a crown prince: even in his princely years his allowance is already inexhaustible, so how much less could it ever be exhausted once he ascends to the supreme and honored throne? The plain text stands right here before us — why must one twist and turn it about, only to mislead later generations?

From "yet now, not in reality" onward is the second part: the proclaiming of extinction within the trace. All three bodies alike carry this meaning of apparent extinction though not actually extinct. As the Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "dharmas are originally unarisen, and so now there is no extinction" — this is precisely the Dharma-body's not being extinguished; yet it also says, "this is the meaning of quiescent extinction" — this is precisely the proclaiming of extinction. Why is this? If one has already fully penetrated this, one does not proclaim quiescent extinction at all — it is proclaimed only for the sake of those who have not yet penetrated it. If one speaks of illumination-within-quiescence, this is precisely the proclaiming of extinction; if one speaks of quiescence-within-illumination, this is precisely the proclaiming of birth. Now the Dharma-body, though neither born nor extinguished, nevertheless has its own birth and extinction: if the mind, deluded, clings and grasps, then affliction is born and wisdom is extinguished; if the mind, awakened, is free of any defilement, then wisdom is born and affliction is extinguished. The extinguishing of delusion and the birth of understanding — this is the extinction of impermanence; but if understanding is born and delusion extinguished, this is itself quiescent extinction — and this birth and extinction, in every case, is discerned solely in terms of the dharma-nature itself. Where the two conditions of delusion and understanding are altogether absent, then there is nothing to proclaim as this birth and extinction at all.

As for the reward-body's apparent extinction though not actually extinct: who, after all, possesses wisdom, and who possesses affliction, such that one could even speak of wisdom "destroying" affliction? This — that brightness and darkness do not, in fact, remove each other — is exactly the meaning of the reward-body's never being extinguished. But beings who have not yet penetrated this, hearing it, at once suppose that they themselves are already the Buddha, and grow arrogant and self-indulgent, no longer cultivating the path — and so it is proclaimed once again that the path is able to extinguish delusion: when affliction is present, wisdom is absent, and when wisdom is present, affliction is absent — is this not, then, exactly wisdom extinguishing affliction?

As for the response-body's apparent extinction though not actually extinct: the response-body is the very functioning of the Dharma-body and the reward-body — and if their essence itself is never extinguished, how could their function ever come to an end? Hence the response-body, too, is never truly extinguished; it is only that, were beings to see the Buddha constantly present, they would grow arrogant and self-indulgent, and so it is proclaimed, "this very night I shall pass into extinction." Furthermore, the Dharma-body, with regard to its own essence, is made clear as never extinguished; when the reward-body is spoken of as never extinguished, this must in every case be understood with reference to the Dharma-body. Argued strictly, whether wisdom's "destroying" of affliction is said to occur because the two have met, or because they have not met, or jointly, or independently — reasoned through in any of these ways, there is, in fact, no real function of "destroying" to be found at all; this is precisely the meaning of wisdom never truly extinguishing delusion. Yet, from the standpoint that where wisdom is present affliction is absent, this is indeed wisdom able to extinguish delusion. When the response-body is spoken of as never extinguished, this must be understood with reference to both the Dharma-body and the reward-body: the Dharma-body and reward-body, being constant and unchanging, respond and function without ever ceasing, and, beings themselves being inexhaustible, there is accordingly no extinction at all. In sum: with regard to its own essence, the Dharma-body has, properly speaking, neither birth nor extinction; the reward-body, fully penetrated, has nothing capable of birth or extinction; and the response-body, continuing on without interruption, likewise has neither birth nor extinction (and so on, as the text has it).

From "by means of this skillful expedient, teaching and transforming" onward is the second part: making clear how manifesting extinction benefits beings, which itself falls into two parts: first, the harm that comes of beings never seeing extinction; second, from "by means of skillful expedients I say: bhikṣus, you should know" onward, how proclaiming extinction, in fact, benefits beings. The first part itself falls into two: first, the harm of never manifesting extinction; second, the extended explanation of this same point. As for the harm: as was said before, those who delight in the lesser dharma, seeing the Buddha as constantly present, plant no good roots and remain, in that sense, poor and lowly, failing to give rise to the two kinds of good, and so gain no benefit; and, their views and thought-afflictions never being cut off, this failure to cut off the two kinds of evil is itself the harm. Greedy attachment to the five desires falls into thought and reflection — thought and reflection here is precisely the affliction of views, while the five desires are precisely the affliction of thought. It is on account of this very heaviness of beings' defilement that the proclaiming of extinction becomes necessary: without proclaiming extinction, the two kinds of evil arise and are never extinguished, and the two kinds of good are impaired and never arise.

But if extinction is manifested in accordance with the four siddhāntas, then the two kinds of evil are extinguished and the two kinds of good arise. In order to extinguish the two kinds of evil, the therapeutic and ultimate-meaning siddhāntas are employed: the ultimate-meaning siddhānta extinguishes evil not yet arisen, while the therapeutic siddhānta extinguishes evil already arisen. The mundane and individual siddhāntas give rise to the two kinds of good: the mundane siddhānta gives rise to good not yet arisen, while the individual siddhānta gives rise to good already arisen. And again: the mundane siddhānta may also extinguish evil already arisen, and the therapeutic siddhānta may also extinguish evil not yet arisen — as when the five aggregates of the meditative absorptions extinguish the evil of the desire realm, this is precisely the mundane siddhānta extinguishing evil already arisen; and the individual siddhānta gives rise to good already arisen, while the ultimate-meaning siddhānta gives rise to the unconditioned good not yet arisen.

From "if they see" onward is the second part: the extended explanation. If beings see the Buddha as constantly present, they at once give rise to an arrogant and self-indulgent mind and the like, and this is the harm; being unable to give rise to reverence, this is the failure to gain benefit. "Arrogant and self-indulgent" is precisely the increase of the affliction of views; "weary and indolent" is precisely the arising of the affliction of thought; "failing to conceive the thought that he is hard to encounter" is precisely the inability to give rise to the understanding that sees the truths; and "failing to show reverence" is precisely the inability to give rise to the path of contemplative thought. It is for this very reason that manifesting extinction is fitting and proper.

If beings hear that the three bodies are never extinguished, this in every case carries the same danger of arrogant self-indulgence: they at once suppose that the suchness of beings and the suchness of Maitreya are one and the same suchness, without any second suchness, equal and therefore already true — and from this arises an arrogant mind and overweening pride, supposing that all afflictions are, from the outset, unarisen, and that, since there is now likewise nothing to extinguish, what need is there to cultivate the path at all? — and so they simply give free rein to their own feelings and grow dissolute, and it is for their sake that it is proclaimed, "this is the meaning of quiescent extinction." Again, hearing that all beings are themselves the very mark of bodhi, and that the mark of bodhi is itself the mark of affliction, and that brightness and darkness do not remove each other, thereby manifesting the Buddha's own bodhi — beings, hearing this, likewise grow arrogant and self-indulgent, no longer cultivating good, but indolent and dissolute — and it is for the sake of such beings that it is proclaimed that the reward-body's wisdom is able to extinguish affliction: the power of ignorance is great, but it is precisely what the wisdom of the Buddha's bodhi is able to extinguish. As for the response-body's apparent extinction though not actually extinct, this is easily understood.

If it were simply proclaimed that dharmas are originally unarisen and so now, too, are unextinguished, this alone would not suffice — delusion must first be extinguished before there can be quiescent extinction at all. The sūtra says, "wisdom does not extinguish affliction" — yet when brightness is present there is no darkness at all; if you yourselves are, right now, fully possessed of affliction, how could you possibly have wisdom? One should therefore know that wisdom is indeed able to extinguish the obstructing delusion. Beings, hearing this proclaiming of extinction, thereupon conceive, with regard to the three bodies, the thought that they are hard to encounter, and give rise to a reverent mind.

From "this is why the Tathāgata, by means of skillful expedients" onward makes clear that proclaiming extinction is indeed beneficial: first, praising the Buddha as hard to encounter; second, explaining why he is hard to encounter; third, that all three bodies alike are hard to encounter. Beings who delight in and cling to the lesser dharma, whose obstruction by views and thought is heavy, would, upon hearing that the three bodies are never extinguished, cease to cultivate the path at all, and it would become very hard indeed for them ever to attain accord with it. From "the reason for this" onward is the explanation: people of thin merit and virtue, though hundreds of thousands of kalpas pass, sometimes see the Buddha and sometimes do not.

If they see the three bodies, this is because such people possess much good and little evil, and extinction is not proclaimed for their sake — such people see the Buddha as constantly present on Vulture Peak. If they do not see the Buddha, this is because such people's obstruction is heavy and their good slight, and for their sake it is taught that the three bodies are hard to encounter; beings, hearing this, at once reflect: though the three bodies are indeed neither born nor extinguished, one must nevertheless give rise to good and extinguish delusion before one can attain the direct witnessing of them — and this is no easy matter, hence it is called "hard to encounter." As for "cherishing longing and thirsting admiration in their hearts" — this makes clear that manifesting extinction brings no harm at all: the extinguishing of views and thought is named "no harm," and the planting of good roots is named "having benefit."

From "again, good sons" onward is the second major section, concluding that beings, benefited across the three periods of time, thereby obtain a real benefit. This itself falls into three parts: first, making clear that every buddha emerges amid the five turbidities, necessarily teaching the three vehicles first and the one only afterward, the near first and the distant only afterward; second, making clear that all of this is done entirely for the sake of transforming beings; third, making clear that none of it is in the least false. From "it is just as" onward is the second part: the parable itself, which comprises both the parable set out and the parable correlated. The parable set out itself falls into two: first, the parable of the good physician treating his sons, corresponding to what was said above about the fittingness of the response and transformation across the three periods; second, the parable of the sons' actually gaining benefit, corresponding to what was said above about the benefiting of beings across the three periods being never false. Above, the text on the future was sparse; here, in this parable, it is given in full. Taking the first of these in turn, it falls into three: first, the parable of the physician traveling far away, corresponding to the benefiting of beings in the past; second, his returning and then departing again, corresponding to the response and transformation in the present; third, his coming back once more at last, corresponding to the response and transformation in the future. The text on the past itself falls into two: first, disclosing the near in order to reveal the distant; second, making clear the fittingness of the response and transformation in the past. Here, however, the parable expresses only the fittingness of the response and transformation. This fittingness itself has three aspects: first, the place; second, brushing aside doubts about the trace; third, the response and transformation proper — here, however, the parable expresses only the response and transformation. The response and transformation itself falls into two: first, the stimulus that meets the response; second, the response and transformation proper — here both are given in full within the parable.

"Suppose there is a good physician" corresponds, ahead of its place in the sequence, to what was said above, "I, with the buddha-eye, observe" — the wisdom capable of responding. From "having many sons" onward corresponds, following its place in the sequence, to what was said above, "if there are beings who come into my presence" — the capacity capable of stimulating that response. The fittingness of the response and transformation discussed above itself fell into two parts: first, benefiting beings; second, making clear their joy — here, however, the parable expresses only the benefiting of beings. And the benefiting of beings discussed above itself fell into two: first, not truly being born yet manifesting birth; second, not truly ceasing yet manifesting cessation — here, however, the parable expresses only manifesting cessation.

As for the first term, "a good physician": physicians are of ten kinds. First, one who treats an illness only to have the illness worsen without relief, and who, at times, even brings about death — this corresponds to the heretical teacher who holds the view of emptiness, indulging his own will in doing evil and teaching others to give rise to wrong views that cut off the good roots; once the Dharma-body itself has perished, the wisdom-life perishes as well. Second, one who treats an illness such that it neither worsens nor improves — this corresponds to the heretical teacher who holds the view of existence and practices painful austerities, hurling himself from cliffs and into fire, engaged in painful practice yet still practicing good; unable to attain meditative absorption, he cannot cut off the fetters — this is "no relief" — nor, on the other hand, can he cut off the good — this is "no worsening." Third, one who treats an illness such that it improves but does not truly heal — this is like the ordinary physician whose patient, once recovered, only relapses again — this corresponds to the heretic who cultivates concentration and cuts off the fetters. Fourth, one who treats an illness such that, once cured, it never recurs, yet whose treatment is not comprehensive — this corresponds to the follower of the two lesser vehicles, who treats only one or two conditions among those he happens to have some connection with, and cannot treat every illness without exception. Fifth, one who, though able to treat comprehensively, lacks the skillful technique needed to treat suffering and pain — the Treatise calls this "the clumsy method" — this corresponds to the bodhisattva of the six perfections, whose compassion treats broadly but without full skill. Sixth, one who possesses the sublime technique to treat illness, curing all pain and distress, yet cannot treat one who is certain to die — this corresponds to the bodhisattva of the shared teaching who comprehends dharmas directly, treating only the ordinary person capable of turning back, but unable to treat the two lesser vehicles whose seeds are already scorched. Seventh, one who, though able to treat even illnesses difficult to cure, cannot treat every illness all at once — this corresponds to the bodhisattva of the distinct teaching. Eighth, one able to treat every illness all at once, yet unable to restore the patient fully to his original condition — this corresponds to the initial stage of the perfect teaching, the ten stages of faith. Ninth, one able to treat every illness comprehensively and also to restore the patient fully to his original condition, yet unable to raise him beyond that original condition — this corresponds to the final stage of the perfect teaching. Tenth, one who treats every illness all at once, restores the patient fully, and moreover raises him beyond his original condition — this is precisely the Tathāgata himself.

The first three kinds of physician are precisely the "old physician using milk-medicine" spoken of in the Great Sūtra. The latter seven are all "visiting physicians": those without any real skill use only such remedies as impermanence and suffering, like using bitter and sour medicines; those with skill, having come from afar, in the end have their patients drink milk once more — and this last is the truly consummate good physician. "Good" means excellent: internally possessing the three insights and the five eyes — together, these are the eight skills. "Skillfully mastering the nature of medicines and treating well" means externally discerning the very source of the illness and being able to apply the medicine accordingly. "Wisdom" refers to the twin wisdoms of the provisional and the real, deeply knowing the two truths. "Perceptive and penetrating" means that the five eyes discern each capacity, whether sudden or gradual, without the slightest error. The twelve divisions of the teachings, whose text and principle are extremely profound, correspond to "thoroughly versed in medical formulas"; treating beings' illnesses in accordance with the four siddhāntas corresponds to "skilled in treating every illness." The Sūtra of Infinite Meanings says, "the king of physicians, the great king of physicians" — it is precisely because of this greatness as a physician that he is called the good physician.

"Having many sons": "perhaps ten" refers to the śrāvakas; "perhaps twenty," the pratyekabuddhas; "a hundred or so," the bodhisattvas. As for the bodhisattva-sons, there are, in all, three distinct senses of "son." First, with regard to all beings without exception: every being possesses the three inherent virtues, and buddha-nature itself is precisely the buddha's son — hence it is said, "all the beings among them are my own sons," and this passage's "having many sons" refers to this. In terms of the ten mental factors, there are, correspondingly, a hundred sons: the mind-king is the correct-cause buddha-nature, wisdom is the revealing-cause nature, and the remaining nine, mutually supporting its arising, belong to the conditioning-cause nature; when any one of the ten arises, the other nine support and assist it, and in this way a hundred are formed. The inherent-virtue buddha-sons are neither good nor evil, yet pervade both good and evil alike, and it is for this reason that these ten factors, together with the mind-king, are called the pervasive mental factors — and it is on this account that the three causes of inherent virtue all belong to the correct-cause buddha-sons.

Second, with regard to the bonds formed in past ages, [beings] are the buddha's sons: as when the sixteen princes repeated the exposition of the Lotus Sūtra, and those who heard the Dharma at that time likewise gave rise to a slight understanding, which became the revealing-cause nature; their slight capacity, then, to cultivate practice became the conditioning-cause nature; and the correct nature, being the root of both, means that all three causes here belong properly to the conditioning cause, providing the resources that give rise to today's understanding of the one real teaching. Hence, on account of the bonds formed in past ages, [beings] are named the conditioning-cause buddha-sons — these are precisely the thirty sons within the burning house. This is spoken of in terms of the ten stages of faith: when any one stage of faith arises, the remaining nine are present within it as well, so that there are, correspondingly, a hundred stages of faith — and it is on this basis that bonds formed in the past can make [beings] the buddha's sons.

Third, the sons of the revealing cause: this refers to those who, today, hear the Lotus Sūtra, abide securely within real wisdom, and know for certain, "I shall assuredly become a buddha," fully resolving the teachings of the śrāvakas — this being the king of all sūtras — and, born from the Buddha's own mouth, receiving their share of the buddha-dharma, are for this reason named true sons. These, too, possess the three causal natures, and, having now clearly manifested and seen the buddha-nature, all belong to the revealing-cause buddha-sons. As for the meaning of the "hundred sons": this brings the number ten back once more into the ten wholesome practices, just as the ten stages of faith enter into the initial abode — and it is for this reason that the correct cause runs through both the origin and the trace alike. This passage makes clear the hundred sons without taking up the sons of the revealing cause; the sons of the revealing cause are made clear below, in the passage on the sons who, not having lost their right mind, take the medicine.

"Having urgent business, he traveled far away to another land" corresponds to the manifesting of extinction within the response and transformation of the past. From "the sons, afterward" onward is the second part: his returning and then departing again, corresponding to the benefiting of beings in the present age, which itself falls into two: first, the sons afterward drinking poison, corresponding to what was said above about the mutual bearing of capacity and response — seeing that beings' merit is thin and their defilement heavy, beings, after the Buddha's extinction, delight in and cling to the teachings of the false teachers of the three realms, and hence it is said, "they drink another's poisonous medicine" — this is precisely "wandering off to another land" — and, turning about through the various destinies, they fall into the three realms, hence it is said, "writhing upon the ground."

From "at that time, the father returned home" onward corresponds to what was said above concerning "I, while young, left the household life and attained unsurpassed bodhi" — that is, the second sense, not truly being born yet manifesting birth. What was said above fell into two: the benefit through form and sound, and the benefit's being never false; here, speaking of the sons drinking poison corresponds to the former, the benefit through form. Believing and accepting the teachings of the false teachers is named "drinking poison"; "losing one's right mind" means being born without any capacity, great or small, capable of stimulating a response, while "not losing one's right mind" means being born with such a capacity, great or small, present. Furthermore, those who have "lost their right mind" are greedily attached to the three realms and have lost the good roots of the three vehicles that they had planted before — and it is for the sake of such people that apparent extinction though not actually extinct is proclaimed. Those who have "not lost their right mind," though attached to the five desires, have not lost the good roots of the three vehicles — and it is for the sake of such people that not truly being born yet manifesting birth is spoken of: for those whose good is strong and evil slight, upon seeing the Buddha they are at once able to cultivate the path and cut off the fetters, like a son who, seeing his father, seeks the medicine and is cured of his illness; for those whose good is slight and evil heavy, upon attaining sight of the Buddha, they, too, seek his protection but do not cultivate the path, like a son who, seeing his father, seeks his rescue yet refuses to take the medicine, so that the father, for this son's sake, proclaims that he is bound to die.

"Seeing from a distance" makes clear that, when the Buddha appears in the world, beings do indeed see his physical body, yet, being obstructed by the five-part obstruction of views and thought, they cannot personally attend upon the Dharma-body — hence it is said, "from a distance." Seeing and hearing of the Buddha's appearance, they all feel joy and reverence, and the various sūtra texts that show Brahmā and others making their requests are, in every case, instances of exactly this kind of plea for rescue. From "the father, seeing his sons suffering thus" onward corresponds to the benefit through sound spoken of above, which itself falls into two: first, corresponding to the Buddha accepting the request and turning the Dharma-wheel of the two truths. From "and he spoke these words" onward corresponds to the parable of admonishing and urging. "Medical formulas" refers precisely to the twelve divisions of the teachings; "medicinal herbs" refers to the eighty-four thousand dharma-gates that these teachings set forth in full. From the Buddha's expounding of the twelve divisions all the way to his expounding of the Nirvāṇa Sūtra — this brings forth medicinal herbs both gradual and sudden. Expounding the twelve divisions directly brings forth the sudden medicinal herbs; expounding the sūtras in their gradual sequence brings forth the gradual medicinal herbs. "Color" corresponds to the precepts, since the precepts guard the actions of body and speech, their outward marks made plainly manifest.

"Fragrance" corresponds to concentration, the fragrance of merit and virtue perfuming all things. "Flavor" corresponds to wisdom, able to attain the flavor of principle itself. These three — precepts, concentration, and wisdom — are precisely the eightfold noble path, and cultivating the eightfold noble path is able to reveal the buddha-nature. Furthermore: "color" is prajñā, the color of dharma-nature illuminated clearly and without obstruction; "fragrance" is liberation, the virtue of severance free of any foul odor; "flavor" is the Dharma-body, the very flavor of principle. These three dharmas, neither vertically nor horizontally arranged, are named the secret treasury, and it is by practicing in accordance with the teaching that one is able to enter this very treasury. The power of the three vehicles' emptiness-samādhi is spoken of as "pounding"; signlessness, as "sifting"; wishlessness, as "combining" — and each single samādhi is equipped with the precepts, concentration, and wisdom all together. Furthermore, the contemplation of emptiness is "pounding," the contemplation of the provisional is "sifting," and the contemplation of the middle is "combining" — and these three contemplations, each in turn, never depart from the precepts, concentration, and wisdom. Giving this Dharma to gradual and sudden beings alike, causing them to cultivate it, is named "taking the medicine."

From "and he spoke these words" down through "you should take this" is precisely the gate of urging; from "swiftly remove your suffering and affliction" down through "and never again have any further trouble" is precisely the gate of admonishing. By employing these two gates together, admonishing and urging, he causes all his sons to take the medicine of the Dharma. From "among these sons, those who had not lost their right mind" onward corresponds to what was said above about the benefit actually attained being never false. What was said above fell into two: first, that it is never false; second, the explanation of why it is never false. Here it is said, "among these sons, those who had not lost their right mind took the medicine and their illness was cured" — this corresponds precisely to what was said above, that everything is entirely true, never false. As for the explanation of why it is never false — no further parable is given for this. ◎