The Real Mark and the Sixteen Gates

Second, explaining the common name: "sūtra" is a single word. Preserving the foreign pronunciation in full, it ought to be rendered "saddharma-puṇḍarīka-sūtra." "Saddharma" is rendered here as "wondrous dharma"; "puṇḍarīka" is rendered here as "lotus flower," already explained above; "sūtra" is sometimes rendered "sūtrānta," sometimes "sūtra-patha." Just as the various regions of that foreign land have their own dialects, so too, in translating into this land, renderings differ: some say it is untranslatable, some say it is translatable. This is explained under five headings: first, clarifying its untranslatability; second, clarifying its translatability; third, reconciling the translatable and the untranslatable; fourth, explaining "sūtra" through the various dharmas; fifth, explaining "sūtra" through the contemplation of mind.

As for saying it is untranslatable: the foreign word carries many senses at once, while the word in this land is single and shallow — one cannot use a single, simple word to translate something so manifold, and the original sound ought to be retained instead. As for calling it "sūtra": Kaishan says this is not a proper translation at all, but merely uses this word to stand in place of that one. In this land, what a sage teaches is called a "canon," and what a worthy teaches is called the "masters and histories"; in that foreign land, what a sage teaches is called "sūtra," and what a bodhisattva teaches is called a "treatise" — since it cannot be properly translated, it is fitting to use this word to stand in place of that one, and hence it is called "sūtra." Since it cannot be translated, it carries five senses: first, dharma-source, also called "giving rise to birth"; second, subtle arising, also called "manifestation"; third, gushing spring; fourth, marking-line; fifth, binding a garland. Here, these are simply the five untranslatable senses — and within each single one of these five, a further three senses are found, making fifteen senses in all: first, the source of teaching; second, the source of practice; third, the source of meaning. This is now explained at length.

As for "dharma-source": all things without exception are, in themselves, inexpressible, and it is only by the causes and conditions of the four siddhāntas that there comes to be any expression at all — teaching by the mundane siddhānta is the source of teaching; teaching by the individual and therapeutic siddhāntas is the source of practice; teaching by the siddhānta of ultimate meaning is the source of meaning. As for what is called the source of teaching: a single word spoken by the Buddha's own golden mouth serves as the source, from which immeasurable further words and teachings flow forth — whether common or particular, meeting beings at the appropriate time, so that, upon hearing it, they attain the path. Hence the sūtra says: each and every sūtra has, further, immeasurable further sūtras as its own retinue.

If later persons do not understand it, bodhisattvas take the Buddha's own teaching as their source and compose common treatises and particular treatises, expounding both common and particular sūtras, so that the Buddha's own intent is never obstructed, and whoever seeks it out attains the path — precisely because their treatises have this same source. The various non-Buddhist outsiders, though they too have their own teachings, do not accord with the sūtra, and their idle theorizing, having no such source, is unable to bring anyone to the path. As for the sūtra being the source of practice: it shows people the dharma free of contention, guides them through what is passable and what is blocked, opens and clarifies the eye, and heals and remedies the sickness of the person — cultivating practice according to this teaching, one gives rise to every common and particular practice, proceeding from this shore to that one, entering the cooling pond, arriving at the ground of sweet dew, the true Dharma-jewel of nirvāṇa, sentient beings entering through many different gates — hence one knows the sūtra is the source of practice. As for the sūtra being the source of meaning: seeking out a single phrase, one meaning is expounded; seeking out immeasurable phrases, immeasurable meanings are expounded; or seeking out a single phrase, immeasurable meanings are expounded; seeking out immeasurable phrases, a single meaning is expounded — whether common or particular, seeking out what is expounded, one converges upon it — hence the sūtra is the source of meaning. Gathering these three together as the Dharma-gate: the source of teaching is precisely the wisdom of hearing; the source of practice is precisely the wisdom of reflection; the source of meaning is the wisdom of cultivation. Seeing the sense of this true dharma-source is already so manifold that it cannot be translated. It is also said to mean "giving rise to birth," which may be understood by this same pattern.

Second, containing "subtle arising": the Buddha teaches by means of the four siddhāntas, his words skillful and wondrous, expounding and measuring, in due sequence, what is good at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end, perfectly complete — like the great ocean's own water, growing gradually ever deeper. One who hears this teaching first hears the mundane siddhānta, receiving it in due sequence, distinguishing the marks of dharmas, a subtle understanding beginning to arise, growing gradually greater, becoming clear, refined, and penetrating. Further reading through every differing treatise, broadly knowing the wise ones' own intent, of vast learning and firm memory, one arrives at last at buddhahood — this, in terms of the teaching, discusses subtle arising. First hearing the individual and therapeutic siddhāntas, one is thereby able to give rise to practice — beginning with the small practices of humans and devas, next entering the untainted practice through precepts, concentration, and wisdom, the path of seeing and the path of cultivation, until at last realizing the stage beyond further training — proceeding from the small into the great, ending at last in wondrous enlightenment: this, in terms of practice, discusses subtle arising. First hearing the siddhānta of ultimate meaning, turning and turning, ever broadening, one enters the wisdom of hearing and of reflection, then warmth, summit, and the supreme worldly dharma; next one enters the path of seeing the truths, attaining the true, ultimate meaning; next one enters the path of cultivation, arriving at the stage beyond further training — proceeding from the small into the great, seeing the resemblance and then the true middle way, arising from the very tip of a hair and ending at last as a tree one's arms cannot encircle. Gathering these three "arisings" together as the Dharma-gate: according to the Hīnayāna, these are the three kinds of liberation's own arising; according to the Mahāyāna's own initial abiding, the arising of teaching is prajñā, the arising of practice is the tathāgatagarbha, and the arising of principle is the real mark. "Subtle arising" is already so manifold in itself that it cannot be translated.

Third, containing "gushing spring": this name is taken from a metaphor. The Buddha teaches the Dharma by means of the four siddhāntas, its text and meaning inexhaustible, the flow of the Dharma never ceasing. If one hears the mundane siddhānta, expounding a single phrase resolves immeasurable further phrases, a month, four months, up to a year — like the wind moving through open space, sovereign and unobstructed; the understanding of the very first mind, already like a gushing spring — how much more so the later mind! How much more so the Tathāgata himself! Just like a spring within stone, its flowing moisture benefiting everywhere pervasively! If one hears the individual and therapeutic siddhāntas, immeasurable practices arise, every buddha-dharma numerous as the sands of the Ganges, every kind of Dharma-gate, a single practice being immeasurable practices, entering the good state, ascending the eightfold correct and upright path. If one hears the siddhānta of ultimate meaning, its principle is like empty space itself — the dharma of empty space cannot be measured or bounded, pervading every place — this is named the gushing spring of meaning. Gathering this as the Dharma-gate: the spring of teaching is the unobstructed eloquence of dharma; the spring of practice is the unobstructed eloquence of words; the spring of meaning is the unobstructed eloquence of meaning. Eloquence in teaching pervades all three of these places — "gushing spring" is already so manifold in itself that it cannot be translated.

Fourth, containing "marking-line": the Buddha teaches by means of the four siddhāntas. First hearing the mundane siddhānta, one cuts away the deviant teaching of craving and views, no longer overturned and deluded by the deviant wind, and thereby enters the correct track — this is the marking-line of teaching. If one hears the individual and therapeutic siddhāntas, one departs far from the wrong path, entering the good, correct road of the factors that ferry one across — this is the marking-line of practice. If one hears the siddhānta of ultimate meaning, one cuts away craving and views on this shore, and is thereby able to arrive at the far shore, neither clinging to birth-and-death nor abiding in the unconditioned — this is the marking-line of meaning. Gathering this as the Dharma-gate: the teaching's own cutting-away of the deviant is precisely correct speech; the practice's own cutting-away of the deviant is precisely correct action, correct diligence, correct mindfulness, and correct concentration, and the rest; the meaning's own cutting-away of the deviant is precisely correct view and correct intention, and the rest. "Marking-line" is already so manifold in itself that it cannot be translated.

Fifth, containing "binding a garland": binding together teaching, practice, and principle, just as binding a garland of flowers keeps its petals from scattering and falling away. The mundane siddhānta binds the Buddha's own spoken teaching so that it does not scatter and fall away; the individual and therapeutic siddhāntas bind every practice so that it does not scatter and fall away; the siddhānta of ultimate meaning binds meaning and principle so that they do not scatter and fall away. Gathering this as the Dharma-gate: binding the teaching accomplishes the mouth's freedom from fault; binding practice accomplishes the body's freedom from fault; binding meaning accomplishes the mind's freedom from fault — these are also the three kinds of practice shared in common with wisdom, and are also the three dhāraṇīs. The teaching not scattering and falling away is the dhāraṇī of retaining what is heard; practice not scattering and falling away is the dhāraṇī of practice; meaning not scattering and falling away is precisely the dhāraṇī that holds all things together. Taken as an explanation of "adornment of the body": in terms of teaching, this is named the adornment of wisdom; in terms of practice, this is named the adornment of merit; in terms of meaning, this is precisely what is adorned. What is adorned is precisely the Dharma-body, adorned by concentration and wisdom. Every sentient being possesses the Dharma-body, yet the Dharma-body's own substance remains plain and unadorned, disregarded and belittled even by the devas and the nāgas; if one cultivates and studies concentration and wisdom, adorning the Dharma-body, then it is seen and honored by all.

The old teaching says: "sūtra" carries five senses; here, it is shown that "sūtra" carries fifteen senses — how, then, could a single word of this land possibly translate the foreign word? The explanation of what is "carried" within the name is as given here, and so on.

As for glossing "sūtra": it is glossed as "constant" — this now explains that gloss. That the heavenly demons and the non-Buddhist outsiders are unable to alter or destroy it is named the constancy of the teaching. That it is true and correct, without any admixture, and that none can surpass it, is named the constancy of practice. That it is still and unmoving, and certainly admits of no divergent direction, is named the constancy of principle. Again, glossing it as "what can be modeled": the dharma can be modeled upon, practice can be modeled upon, and principle can be modeled upon. Now, simply explaining these two glosses already yields six senses — how much more so, then, the foreign word itself, layered with meaning upon meaning — how could it possibly be rendered by any single, simple translation?

Second, as for saying that it is translatable, this too has five senses. First, rendering it as "sūtra": "sūtra" takes "source" as its own sense, since it derives from the sage's own mind and mouth. Here, too, this is explained accordingly, in terms of the teaching's own source, practice's own source, and principle's own source. Every sūtra, every common and particular treatise, every commentary and record, all derive from the sage's own mind and mouth — this is named the teaching's own source. Every practice that accords with principle, every practice of resemblance, every practice of the one who follows through faith and the one who follows through the dharma, all derive from the sage's own mind and mouth — hence practice, too, has this same source. Every mundane meaning, every world-transcending meaning, every meaning of skillful means, every meaning of the ultimate, all derive from the sage's own mind and mouth — hence meaning, too, has this same source. The teaching's own source is the mundane siddhānta; practice's own source is the individual and the therapeutic siddhāntas; meaning's own source is the siddhānta of ultimate meaning.

Again, "sūtra" also carries the sense of "weft": just as, in ordinary silk-weaving, the warp is woven together with the weft, and thereby the pattern of the dragon and the phoenix is formed — the Buddha, by means of the mundane siddhānta, teaches the sūtra as the warp, and the bodhisattva, by means of the mundane siddhānta, weaves in the weft; warp and weft joined together, the pattern of the worthy and the sage is thereby formed. Again, discussed in terms of practice, warp and weft: the practice of wisdom is the warp, and the practice of conduct is the weft; warp and weft joined together, the pattern of the eightfold correct path is thereby formed. Again, discussed in terms of principle, warp and weft: expounding the real is the warp, and expounding the conventional is the weft; warp and weft joined together, the pattern of the two truths is thereby formed.

Second, rendering it as "according with": according with conditions, according with the matter at hand, according with meaning. Teaching by the mundane siddhānta is according with conditions; teaching according to what is fitting is according with generating good; teaching according to the antidote is according with breaking through evil — these two together are according with the matter at hand; teaching according to the siddhānta of ultimate meaning is according with meaning.

Third, rendering it as "dharma-source": this is precisely the source of teaching, of practice, and of principle, exactly as explained before, and so on.

Fourth, rendering it as "thread": the thread strings together and holds fast the teaching, practice, and principle, so that they do not scatter and fall away — the sense of "adornment" and the rest is as explained before. Again, the thread is able to stitch together meaning: stitching the teaching gives its chapters and verses their proper sequence, fit to teach the Dharma — just as the pratyekabuddha, not having encountered the thread of the twelve divisions of scripture, is unable to teach the Dharma, and worldly wisdom and eloquence, too, without obtaining the sūtra's own thread, cannot achieve correct speech. Again, the thread is able to stitch together practice: relying on the sūtra, practice is correct; departing from the sūtra, practice becomes deviant. Again, as for stitching together principle: what principle does not seal falls into the sixty-two views; what principle does seal converges upon the one, ultimate path.

Fifth, rendering it as "the teaching of good words," which is likewise the teaching of good practice, and likewise the teaching of good principle: teaching by the mundane siddhānta is the teaching of good words; teaching by the individual and therapeutic siddhāntas is the teaching of good practice; teaching by the siddhānta of ultimate meaning is the teaching of good principle. This is what is meant by saying that "sūtra" has these five translatable senses.

Third, reconciling the translatable and the untranslatable: in the past, when the Buddhadharma was first brought across, the foreign and Chinese languages were not yet mutually clear, and the claim of untranslatability was what the scholars of Hexi handed down. Later persons, inheriting this usage, added the practice of using this word to stand in place of that one. Now, however, translation has become abundant and refined, and the various dialects have become somewhat mutually intelligible — how, then, could one simply cling to untranslatability, still taking "manifold meaning" as the explanation? If it is truly manifold in meaning, why limit it to only five senses? And if it is translatable, then which rendering is the correct one? If the sense is various in so many ways, how could the translations possibly be so numerous? If "sūtra" is rendered as "canon," note that the Sanskrit word itself has nine forms — the common and particular sūtra-collections and the rest — why, then, does one not find, within the twelve divisions of scripture properly reckoned, a "canon division," or, within the Tripiṭaka, a "canon-treasury"? And if it is rendered as "according with," "dharma-source," and the rest, then, by the same logic, the twelve divisions of scripture ought likewise to be corrected to include an "according-with division," a "dharma-source division," a "thread division," and a "teaching-of-good-words division," and the Tripiṭaka ought to include a "thread-treasury" and the rest — yet none of these other places ever follow any of these renderings; why, then, should "sūtra" alone be singled out for this treatment?

The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "Prajñā is weighty and revered, while 'wisdom' is light and shallow — how could the light word be used to translate the weighty one?" If this is so, this is itself evidence for the untranslatability camp. Yet the real mark itself, weighty and revered, is inexpressible — and if it can nonetheless be expressed in the foreign tongue, why could it not equally be expressed by translation into Chinese? If it truly cannot be translated, then it likewise cannot be spoken at all — and this, in turn, is evidence for the translatability camp. The old teaching says: nirvāṇa carries the three virtues within it, and so "cessation and passing away" cannot be used as its translation. Emperor Wu of Liang, too, says: "cessation and passing away" is a Hīnayāna dharma, and so cannot be used to translate "great nirvāṇa." Yet this need not be so. The sūtra speaks of both "nirvāṇa" and "great nirvāṇa" — so too there ought to be both "cessation and passing away" and "great cessation and passing away." This present sūtra says, "the Tathāgata's cessation and passing away" — how could this fail to be "great cessation and passing away"? Since the lesser "cessation and passing away" is already used to translate the lesser "nirvāṇa," why could the greater "cessation and passing away" not likewise be used to translate "great nirvāṇa"?

If it is said that "cessation and passing away" is one-sided and does not carry the three virtues within it, here an explanation is given showing that it does: "cessation" is precisely liberation; liberation must have its own person, and that person is precisely the Dharma-body; the Dharma-body is not a mere body alone, and must possess numinous wisdom, and that numinous wisdom is precisely prajñā. Again, "great" is the Dharma-body, "cessation" is liberation, and "passing away" is prajñā. Simply setting forth "cessation and passing away," the three virtues are thereby vividly present within it — how, then, could it be untranslatable? If one clings to a single word alone, then one side and the other endlessly dispute right and wrong, failing to penetrate the Buddha's own intent, exactly as already explained above.

Here, then, the translatable and the untranslatable are reconciled, and their sense and aim opened up freely. If one speaks of untranslatability, the name carries five senses, and within each single one of these five, three further senses are carried, so that its beauty is seen all the more clearly; if one takes up translatability, then each single translation likewise possesses these same three senses, its aim growing ever deeper still — whichever of the two, translatable or untranslatable, one takes, what is there left to dispute? The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says, "I have never, in the end, disputed with the world." When worldly wisdom says something exists, I too say it exists; when worldly wisdom says it does not exist, I too say it does not exist. Reconciled in this way, neither position suffers any loss, and yet reason is preserved throughout. Again, the perfect sense knows no fixed direction, penetrating and entering everywhere, exactly as explained above.

As for settling on the correct translation of the name: worldly convention should not be thrown into confusion, and so, here, a single name is taken as the correct translation, without thereby causing either side any grievance. Why is this? From ancient times to the present, wherever the foreign tongue has been translated into Chinese, it has, in every case, been titled "sūtra." If some other translation were the correct one, why has it never instead been changed to "according with" or "thread"? Since the transmitted translation is thus unanimous, "sūtra" is plainly shown to be the correct one. And if it were, on the other hand, equally untranslatable, why has it never instead been marked as "subtle arising" or "gushing spring"? Here, then, "sūtra" is correctly adopted, strong in its manifold sense, carrying within it the three senses of dharma-source, the three of subtle arising, the three of gushing spring, and every sense of marking-line and binding a garland, and likewise carrying within it "according with," "thread," "the teaching of good words," the gloss of "modeling," the gloss of "constancy," and the rest — there is nothing that is not gathered within this single word "sūtra," and every other candidate word is exactly the same. Every Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna teaching alike takes "sūtra" as its own common name, and hence no other word is used.

Fourth, explaining "sūtra" through the various dharmas: if "sūtra" is taken as the correct translation, what dharma, then, is sūtra? Formerly, three kinds were used. First, taking sound as sūtra: since, while the Buddha was in the world, his own golden mouth expounded the teaching, and it was solely by the sound of his voice, expounded and discerned, that the hearers attained the path, sound is thereby taken as sūtra. The Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says, "heard from a good spiritual friend." Second, taking form as sūtra: while the Buddha was in the world, sound could indeed be taken as sūtra; now that the Buddha has departed the world, and the teaching is transmitted and upheld through paper and ink, form ought to be taken as sūtra. The Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says, "heard from within a sūtra-scroll." Third, taking dharma as sūtra: reflecting inwardly upon oneself, the mind uniting with the dharma, not depending upon any other's teaching, and not upon paper and ink either, but simply the mind's own awakening — this alone is dharma taken as sūtra, hence it is said, "one who cultivates my own dharma realizes it and knows it for oneself, and so on."

These three sense-objects are taken as sūtra as they are applied within this land. One of sharp auditory consciousness is able to distinguish and grasp awakening from the sense-object of sound, and so, for such a person, sound is their own sūtra, and nothing else is. One of sharp mental consciousness is able, of themselves, to hone the mind's own reflection and grasp the decisive resolution, and so, for such a person, dharma is their own sūtra, and nothing else is. One of sharp visual consciousness attains the principle of the path through the discernment of written characters, and so, for such a person, form is their own sūtra, and nothing else is. This land makes use of only these three sense-objects. The other three faculties are dull here: the nose, smelling paper and ink, gains no knowledge from it at all; the body, touching a sūtra-scroll, likewise cannot understand it thereby; the tongue, tasting the written characters, how could it possibly distinguish right from wrong by this? If other lands, too, make use of all six sense-objects, or make one-sided use of a single one of them — as the Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "By means of a single meal, giving to all... equality with respect to food is likewise equality with respect to the dharma; equality with respect to the dharma is likewise equality with respect to food" — this takes one-sided use of what the tongue faculty encounters as sūtra. Or there may be a land where touching a heavenly garment to the body itself brings attainment of the path — this takes one-sided use of touch as sūtra. Or seeing the Buddha's own radiant light brings attainment of the path — this takes one-sided use of form as sūtra. Or quiescent extinction, wordless, contemplating mind, brings attainment of the path — this takes one-sided use of mind as sūtra. As in the land of manifold fragrances, where fragrance itself serves as the buddha's own undertaking — this takes one-sided use of fragrance as sūtra. In other lands, the six faculties' own consciousness is sharp, and so all six sense-objects are able to serve as sūtra; in this land, the three faculties' own consciousness is dull — the nose does not even equal that of a donkey, a dog, or a deer — how, then, could fragrance, taste, touch, and the rest possibly be penetrated here?

Question: If it is because the faculty is sharp that a sense-object becomes sūtra, does this mean that, for one of dull faculty, the sense-object is not sūtra at all?

Answer: The six sense-objects are themselves the dharma-realm — their very substance is, of itself, sūtra; it is not the case that sūtra exists only once a sharp faculty grasps it.

Why is this? The Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says, "Every dharma tends toward form — this tendency has no exception." Form itself is able to expound every dharma. Take the color black ink, for instance: a single stroke expounds "one"; two strokes expound "two"; three strokes expound "three"; a single vertical stroke forms the character for "king"; adding a stroke to the right forms the character for "shame"; adding a stroke to the left forms the character for "field"; extending the top stroke upward forms the character for "from"; extending the bottom stroke downward forms the character for "extend" — turning it about in this way, its expounding is inexhaustible. Sometimes a single character expounds immeasurable dharmas; immeasurable characters together expound a single dharma; immeasurable characters expound immeasurable dharmas; a single character expounds a single dharma — within this single black ink, the smallest turn of the brush yields vastly different meanings expounded: turning left expounds evil, turning right expounds good; a dot above expounds the untainted, a dot below expounds the tainted; killing and sparing life, giving and taking away, disparaging and praising, suffering and joy — all of these lie within the ink itself, and there is not a single dharma that lies outside this ink. Stated briefly: black ink expounds immeasurable teaching, immeasurable practice, and immeasurable principle; black ink is likewise the source of teaching, the source of practice, and the source of principle. Black ink proceeds from the very first single dot to immeasurable dots, from a dot to a character, from a character to a phrase, from a phrase to a verse, from a verse to a fascicle, from a fascicle to a whole division. Again, within a single dot, character, or phrase, small practice is first established, and great practice is set forth only afterward. Again, within a dot or character, shallow principle is seen first, and deep principle is arrived at only afterward — this is named black color's own threefold subtle arising, of teaching, of practice, and of meaning. Again, from black color, dots gush forth, and characters, phrases, and verses issue from it, inexhaustibly; the practices that gush forth from it are without end, and the meanings that gush forth from it are without end — this is named black color's own possession of the threefold gushing spring. Again, in terms of black color, teaching, practice, and meaning are cut away from what is deviant. Again, in terms of black color, teaching, practice, and meaning are bound together as a garland, and thereby serve as adornment as well. Again, form is itself a source: by means of form, one is bound, and there come to be the six destinies' own birth-and-death; by means of form, one is liberated, and there come to be the four kinds of sage. Again, form is glossed as "dharma": because dharma has form, it is able to accomplish teaching, practice, and principle. Again, form is itself constant: form's own teaching cannot be destroyed, form's own practice cannot be altered, form's own principle cannot be moved. Again, form cannot be translated, since form's own sense is so manifold; and form can indeed be translated, being named "form" as sūtra. Hence, when one sees form as sūtra, one thereby knows form's own craving and views; knows that form is a dharma born of causes and conditions; knows that form is at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle; form is itself the dharma-realm, gathering in every dharma entirely. The dharma-realm's own written characters — the written character is itself empty; there is no dot, no character, no phrase, no verse. The phrase, the verse, the written character — in the end, none of these can be found at all — this is named knowing that the character is not a character, and yet the non-character, too, is a character.

Black ink and color as sūtra, taken as dharma-source: if, in reaction to the ink and its characters, anger arises, cutting short another's own life; if, in reaction to the ink and its characters, craving arises, leading to theft or sexual misconduct; or even if, in reaction to the ink, delusion arises, giving rise to wrong views — one should know that the ink and its characters are the source of the four evil destinies. If, in reaction to the ink and its characters, loving-kindness or equanimity arises, or correct view arises, one should know that the ink and its characters are the source of the human and heavenly realms. If one knows that the ink and its characters are themselves the unrecorded fruit of retribution — the unrecorded being the truth of suffering; that defilement arising in reaction to this resultant form is precisely the truth of arising; that knowing the character to be formed through causes and conditions, suffering, empty, and without self, is the truth of the path; and that, once one knows the character is not a character, no inverted view of the character arises, and every affliction is thereby extinguished — this is precisely the truth of cessation; knowing the character through these Four Noble Truths, one is able to give rise to warmth and summit, whether approaching the fruit or abiding in the fruit, the liberation of the worthy and the sage — one should know that the ink and its characters are the source of the śrāvaka.

If one fails to understand the character, this is named ignorance; giving rise to craving and aversion in reaction to the character is formations; discriminating the character as attractive or ugly is consciousness; consciousness taking hold of the character is named name-and-form; the character passing before the eye is named the six sense-fields; the character as sense-object meeting the faculty is named contact; taking it in and clinging to it with defilement is precisely sensation; entangled attachment, unable to let go, is craving; exerting every effort to pursue it is grasping; grasping then becomes karma, named becoming; becoming, able to draw forth its own fruit, is named birth, old age, sickness, and death — the wheel of suffering never resting — this, then, is the source of the twelve links of dependent origination.

If one is able to know that the character is not a character, ignorance is thereby extinguished, and one does not proceed to formations, nor, further, to old age and death — ignorance extinguished, old age and death are thereby extinguished — one should know that this character is the source of the pratyekabuddha. If one knows that the character is itself empty — not extinguished and thereby made empty, but empty in its very nature from the start — then, within this emptiness, there is no craving or aversion, nor, further, any deviance or correctness; the character cannot be found at all — who, then, is the one who knows the character? How could sentient beings possibly, in delusion, give rise to grasping and rejecting? Giving rise to compassion and the vow, practicing the six pāramitās, delivering sentient beings, entering the very brink of true reality, and yet finding no sentient being who has thereby attained cessation and passing away — one should know that this character is the source of the bodhisattva.

If one knows that the character is not a character, and is neither a character nor a non-character, freedom from both extremes' own inverted views is named purity; purity, being free of karma, is named self; self, being free of suffering, is named bliss; freedom from suffering, being free of birth-and-death, is named permanence. Why is this? The character is the conventional truth; the non-character is the real truth; neither character nor non-character is the one real truth. The one truth is precisely the three truths, and the three truths are precisely the one truth — this is named the source of the object.

If one knows that the ink and its characters are formed through the coming-together of paper, brush, mind, and hand, then, tracing each single character, not a single character can be found; tracing each single dot, likewise no character can be found — and thus there is nothing that cannot be found. Mind and hand themselves cannot be found as the agent — with neither agent nor object, who, then, is it that knows agent and object? This is the source of the wisdom that knows all things. Though the character is not a character, it is, as non-character, still a character: from mind there comes to be a dot; from a dot there comes to be a character; from a character there comes to be a phrase; from a phrase there comes to be a verse; from a verse there comes to be a chapter of practice; from a chapter there comes to be a fascicle; from a fascicle there comes to be a case; from a case there comes to be a division; from a division there comes to be a treasury; from a treasury there come to be every kind of distinction — this is the source of the wisdom of the paths. Though neither a character nor a non-character, and yet illuminating both character and non-character at once — this is the source of the wisdom knowing all modes.

For the sake of the eight-character verse, the Himalayan ascetic relinquished his own beloved body — this is the source of practice. "I, understanding a single phrase, or even half a phrase, come to see buddha-nature, and enter great nirvāṇa" — this is precisely the source of stage. "I attained the threefold bodhi entirely by hearing the sūtra, and by exclaiming 'excellent!'" — the character is itself the source of the vehicle. If one forgets a phrase or a pause and is caused, once again, to master it fluently, granted samādhi and dhāraṇī for this — this is the source of sympathetic response. Relying on the study of the text to attain penetration is the source of spiritual powers. Relying on the character, one obtains speech — this is the source of teaching the Dharma. Teaching the character to others is the source of the retinue. Diligently studying this character, one's own reward already lies within it — this is the source of merit and benefit.

Understanding the character in this way, though the hand holds no scroll, one constantly reads this sūtra; though the mouth utters no word or sound, one recites every scripture pervasively; though the Buddha teaches no Dharma, one constantly hears his own brahma-voice; though the mind engages in no deliberation, one illuminates the dharma-realm universally — learning of this kind, how could it fail to be great indeed? One should know that the color black is the source of every dharma. Blue, yellow, red, and white are exactly the same. Neither character nor non-character, illuminating both character and non-character at once.

Inexpressible, yet not inexpressible; invisible, yet not invisible — what is there to select, and what is there not to select? What is there to gather in, and what is there not to gather in? What is there to discard, and what is there not to discard? If it is, then all alike is; if it is not, then all alike is not. To be able, through black color, to penetrate all things and yet not through all things; to not penetrate all things and yet penetrate all things; neither not-so nor so — every dharma deviant, and every dharma correct. If one does not understand black color in this way, one does not know character from non-character. Yellow, white, red, and blue, whether objects of opposition or not, cannot be known at all in this case. If one penetrates black color, one thereby knows that every other color is exactly the same. This is precisely the Lotus Sūtra's own intent, taking form as sūtra. The sense-object of sound is exactly the same — sometimes a single sound expounds a single dharma, and so on.

One of sharp ear faculty thereby understands sound's own craving, views, and causal conditions, at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle, knowing that lips, tongue, teeth, and jaw can none of them be found at all. Sound is itself not sound, yet, as non-sound, is still sound; sound is neither sound nor non-sound; sound is the source of teaching, of practice, and of meaning — every such sense, exactly as explained above — this is penetrating sound as sūtra. Fragrance, taste, touch, and the rest are exactly the same. The text says, "Every worldly occupation and productive undertaking is never at odds with the real mark itself" — this is precisely this same sense. That every external sense-object is sūtra, pervading the whole dharma-realm, is likewise true of every internal sense-faculty, and likewise true of both the internal and the external together. The sūtra says: liberation is not attained apart from internal contemplation, nor is it found without departing from internal contemplation, and so on. This, then, is a single sense-object reaching every sense-object, not seeing a single sense-object as every sense-object, yet penetrating a single sense-object as every sense-object; within a single consciousness, distinguishing every consciousness, likewise not seeing a single consciousness as every consciousness, yet penetrating a single consciousness as every consciousness. Sovereign and unobstructed, the great wisdom of equality — what, then, is sūtra? What is not sūtra? Should one wish to work this out in fine detail, the same pattern may be understood for each and every sense-object and consciousness in turn: translatable and untranslatable are woven together by these same three senses, and then brought to a close by means of the three contemplations, and so on.

As for distinguishing "sūtra" across the various teachings: if one says that principle is cut off from written words, that written words are merely worldly convention, and that principle is merely conveyed by borrowing characters — then principle alone may be sūtra, while the written words themselves are not sūtra, and the six sense-objects and the rest are merely what expounds the sūtra, not the correct sūtra itself — this is "sūtra" as understood within the Tripiṭaka teaching. If, instead, there is no sense of liberation apart from the written word — the written word's own nature already being liberation, the six sense-objects themselves being the real mark, with no duality and no distinction, exactly as explained above — this is "sūtra" as understood within the perfect teaching. Teaching this same account while accompanied by three further expedient means is "sūtra" as understood within the vaipulya teachings. Teaching it while accompanied by two expedient means is "sūtra" as understood within the Perfection of Wisdom teachings. Teaching it while accompanied by a single expedient means is "sūtra" as understood within the Avataṃsaka teaching.

Fifth, explaining "sūtra" as the contemplation of mind: this, too, follows the four categories given above.

The first category, untranslatability: mind contains within it every mental factor, good and evil alike, and one should know that this mind is the very capital of every dharma — how, then, could it be fixed and judged as any one thing? If evil is mind, then mind would not contain good and every other mental factor within it; if good is mind, then mind would not contain evil and every other mental factor within it. Not knowing quite how to designate "mind," the particular is here used to stand for the general — hence one knows that "mind," even in this abbreviated sense, is able to contain the ten thousand dharmas within it, how much more so, then, these same five senses! The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says, "Within a single mote of dust there is a sūtra-scroll as vast as a great trichiliocosm" — this is precisely this same sense.

As for mind being the dharma-source: the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says, "Within the whole of the world, there is nothing that is not fashioned by mind." Without mind, there is no reflection or awareness; without reflection or awareness, there is no speech — one should therefore know that mind is itself the source of speech.

As for mind being the source of practice: the Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra says, "the practice of mind, the great practice, the pervading practice." Mind is itself the mental factor of intention, and the mental factor of intention belongs to the aggregate of formations; every formation is established by means of the mind's own intention, and hence mind is the source of practice.

As for mind being the source of principle: without mind, by whom could principle be contained at all? By honing principle with the very first mind, one arrives, hazily, at the point of awakening, gradually entering resemblance, and thereby realizing the truth itself — this is the source of principle.

As for mind containing subtle arising: the very first, momentary mind exists only faintly and subtly; the next moment's mind seems now to persist, now to vanish; it then gradually grows and increases, and, afterward, becomes decisive, the mind's own fullness giving rise to speech from the mouth — this is speech's own subtle arising. The mind, first habituating itself to practice, finds its practice still faint and weak; it then establishes itself a little; and, afterward, becomes great practice — this is practice's own subtle arising. Contemplating mind at first, one does not yet see the principle of mind; cultivating further, one approaches something resembling it, and, at last, arrives at the resemblance of the true itself — this is principle's own subtle arising.

As for mind containing the gushing spring: mind is complete with every dharma, yet obstructed, and so it does not flow — like a spring pressed down beneath earth and stone; once the blockage is removed, it gushes forth in a torrent. If one does not contemplate mind, mind remains dark and unclear, and what is taught does not extend far. If one contemplates mind with clarity and penetration, then one's own expounding and eloquence know no fixed bound, overflowing without end — how could this fail to be speech's own gushing spring? If one does not contemplate mind, practice has its own gaps and interruptions; because one contemplates mind, thought follows thought without a break, turning the six coverings into the six pāramitās, the six pāramitās gathering in every practice — this is practice's own gushing spring. If one is able to contemplate mind, it is like a sharp mattock breaking through the earth, through solid rock and salt-flat sand alike, until the water of principle, clear and pure, flows on and on without ever running dry — this is meaning's own gushing spring.

As for mind containing the binding of a garland: contemplation and reflection free of error, attaining the one dhāraṇī of retaining what is heard, threading through the text without fault — contemplating mind attains the shared power of concentration; threading through practice without fault — contemplating mind attains the shared power of the path; threading through meaning without fault — contemplating mind, further, attains concentration and wisdom, adorning and manifesting the Dharma-body. All of this may be understood accordingly.

Again, mind is itself the marking-line: if, by contemplating mind, one attains correct speech, one departs from deviant and inverted teaching. Contemplating mind correctly, one is thereby spared from deviant practice; the mind free of any view to cling to thereby enters correct principle. Practice, taken as a matter of fact, is like the string; practice, taken as a matter of principle, is like the ink — snapping the string against the wood of craving and views, the vessel of the correct Dharma is thereby formed.

This is how the mind, taken as sūtra, is so manifold in its own meaning — the fifteen senses are here briefly indicated, and so on.

Second category, clarifying translatability through contemplation: mind is itself "source" — three senses source themselves from mind: every word and speech has its source in the reflective, contemplating mind; every practice has its source in the mind of intention; every meaning and principle has its source in the mind of wisdom. The sūtra says, "The liberation of every buddha is to be sought precisely within sentient beings' own mind and its activity." Mind is itself warp and weft: reflection taken as the warp, contemplation taken as the weft, weaving together speech itself. Again, the mind of wisdom-practice is the warp, the mind of conduct-practice is the weft, weaving together every practice. Mind's own vertical conditioning upon principle is the warp, mind's own horizontal conditioning upon principle is the weft, weaving together meaning and principle, and so on. Again, the object contemplated is the warp, the contemplating wisdom is the weft, and the turning and returning of contemplation weaves together every kind of pattern.

Again, mind is itself "according with" contemplation: wisdom according with its object is according with conditions, according with delight and desire; mind as according with teaching is according with what is fitting and with the antidote; mind as according with practice is according with the mind of ultimate meaning, according with principle.

Mind as dharma-source, and mind as thread, are exactly as explained before, and so on.

As for mind being "the teaching of good words": dharma and speech alike may be either good or evil, and here they are settled specifically as good dharma and good speech; mind and contemplation likewise may be either good or evil, and here they are settled specifically as good mind and good contemplation — this is precisely the teaching of good words, of good practice, and of good principle, and so mind is thereby complete with these same three senses.

As for mind being "what can be modeled": without contemplation there is no rule or measure; by means of contemplation, the sovereign mind is made correct, and, the sovereign mind being correct, its mental factors, too, are made correct. Practice and principle are exactly the same: the sovereign mind according with principle, its factors, too, accord with principle — hence this is named "what can be modeled." As for mind being "constant": the mind's own nature is eternally settled, just like empty space itself — who could possibly destroy it? Again, a deluded thought cannot destroy a wholesome thought; deviant practice does not interfere with correct practice; deviant principle does not destroy correct principle — hence mind is named "constant."

Explaining every matter accordingly, turning each single one toward mind as its own object of contemplation, the wisdom of contemplation is thereby ever more perfected, never at odds with any matter — like fire fed by more fuel, matter and principle alike suffer no loss. This is precisely the written character being, at the same time, no written character at all — not that one discards the written character to practice some separate contemplation instead.

Third category, reconciling the translatable and the untranslatable through contemplation: this may be understood accordingly, and so on.

Fourth category, contemplation through the various teachings: if the Hīnayāna clarifies that there is no good within evil, and no evil within good, then the same holds for matter and principle alike — in this case, an evil mind is not sūtra, and there is no sense of manifold meaning at all, a narrow path that admits no two persons walking abreast. If one contemplates mind according to the Mahāyāna, one contemplates the evil mind as not the evil mind — it is, at once, evil and yet good, and, at once, neither evil nor good; one contemplates the good mind as not the good mind — it is, at once, good and yet evil, and, at once, neither good nor evil. Contemplating the one mind as the three minds, and, by means of these same three minds, passing through every mind and every dharma, what mind or what dharma would fail to be, at once, one and three? Every dharma tends toward this very mind, and every mind tends toward this very dharma. Contemplating mind in this way is the source of every word, the source of every practice, and the source of every principle; the five translatable senses and the five untranslatable senses are each, one by one, explained without any obstruction in terms of mind. Pervading every mind, there is nothing that is not sūtra — the general sense may be grasped from this, and it need not be recorded in further detail.

Second, clarifying the essence: what came before, explaining the Name, was a general account, its text and sense vast and expansive; here, the essential principle is pointed to all at once, directly clarifying the sūtra's own essence, straightforwardly distinguishing its true nature. This true nature is not, in fact, without the other two tracks as well — it is only in order to make it easier to understand that it is here stated directly. Later, when clarifying the cardinal doctrine and the function, these, too, are not without the first track — it is only that each section singles out the one track that answers to its own particular name.

"Essence" is the very point to which this entire treatise returns, the capital where every one of its meanings converges. Not only is it exceedingly difficult to converge upon, it is likewise no easy matter to speak of at all. The text says, "This dharma cannot be shown; the very mark of speech itself is quiescent and extinguished." The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says, "Unborn, unborn — it cannot be spoken of." And again: "Yet, because there are causes and conditions, it may nonetheless be spoken of."

Here, seven headings are briefly opened: first, directly clarifying the sūtra's own essence; second, broadly distinguishing the false; third, one dharma under many names; fourth, the gates that enter the essence; fifth, pervading as the essence of every sūtra; sixth, pervading as the essence of every practice; seventh, pervading as the essence of every dharma.

Directly clarifying the essence is, in turn, explained through four senses: first, citing prior interpretations; second, discussing the point of the essence; third, correctly clarifying the essence; fourth, citing texts as proof. A northern master takes the one vehicle as the essence — yet this term is broad and diffuse, not yet concise or essential. "One vehicle" is a term used generally, and risks being confused with either the provisional or the real: if it means the provisional one vehicle, this is not the sūtra's own intent at all; if it means the real one vehicle, its sense already encompasses the three tracks, and clarifying the essence by this term remains unclear — hence it is not adopted. Another interpretation says: the real truth is the essence. This, too, is generally confused, since both the Hīnayāna and the Mahāyāna alike clarify a real truth — the Hīnayāna's own real truth needs no further comment; the Mahāyāna's own real truth, too, is of many kinds — which real truth, then, is here taken as the essence? Hence it is not adopted. Another interpretation says: the one vehicle's own cause and fruit is the essence. This, too, is not adopted here. Why is this? "One vehicle" is a term used generally, exactly as already explained. Again, cause and fruit, these two dharmas, still have not escaped being mere phenomena — how could they be the essence? Phenomena without the seal of principle are no different from a demon's own scripture — how, then, could this be adopted?

Some interpret the vehicle's own essence as encompassing both cause and fruit: the fruit takes the ten thousand virtues as its essence, and the cause takes the ten thousand forms of good as its essence, citing the Twelve Gate Treatise: "That which the great persons, the buddhas, ride upon; that which Mañjuśrī, Avalokiteśvara, and the rest ride upon." They further cite this sūtra: "The Buddha himself abides in the Great Vehicle" — this is the fruit; "these children ride upon this jeweled vehicle" — this is the causal vehicle. They further cite the Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra: "The Great Vehicle's cause and fruit are both, alike, the real mark." Here, one may privately ask: is the vehicle of cause and fruit subject to change, or not subject to change? If it changes, who is the agent that carries it across, and what is it that is carried across? If it does not change, then cause and fruit would simply be one and the same, and neither position makes sense.

If there is some separate dharma that carries both cause and fruit across, then one should know that this — neither cause nor fruit — is the sūtra's own essence. The Twelve Gate Treatise says: "The great person, the buddha, is named 'vehicle' precisely because he does not move." How, then, could "not moving" possibly be cited as evidence for a vehicle of cause and fruit? As for the Lotus's own "the Buddha himself abides in the Great Vehicle" — this means riding upon principle in order to govern persons, not abiding within the virtue of the fruit. The Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra's clarifying that cause and fruit both point to the real mark — does this mean the real mark could be cited as evidence for cause and fruit? None of these, then, are adopted here.

Some clarify the causal vehicle as taking prajñā for its root and the five other pāramitās as its branches; and the resultant vehicle as taking the wisdom that knows all things for its root and everything else as its branches. Again, the causal vehicle is narrow, while the resultant vehicle is broad. Again, the mind that corresponds with prajñā is a vehicle of a single essence; the mind that does not correspond with it is a vehicle of a differing essence. Again, practice that corresponds with attainment-of-nothing is the near vehicle; bowing one's head or raising one's hand, still with something attained, is the far vehicle. Again, the six pāramitās, mixed with both mundane and world-transcending elements, are the far vehicle; the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment, being purely world-transcending, are named the near vehicle. Again, there are four propositions: that neither the pāramitās nor the factors involve any attainment; that both the pāramitās and the factors do involve attainment; that the pāramitās are mixed while the factors are not; and that the factors are mixed while the pāramitās are not, and so on.

Here, I would say: taking prajñā as the vehicle's own root — within this present sūtra, this is the white ox, not the sūtra's own essence. Taking the wisdom that knows all things as the vehicle's own root — within this present sūtra, this is the fruit accomplished at the place of enlightenment, likewise not the vehicle's own essence. The causal vehicle being narrow is a claim made along the vertical axis; the resultant vehicle being broad is a claim made along the horizontal axis — neither is this present sūtra's own vehicle-essence. The mind corresponding with prajñā, attainment-of-nothing, near and far, and the rest — within this present sūtra, all of these are merely the adornment and retinue, none of them the vehicle's own essence at all. How, then, could one possibly raise a dispute over mere skin, hair, branch, and leaf? Amid such clamor and contention, who could ever sort it out? Some cite the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa, taking the six pāramitās as the vehicle's own essence — skillful means carrying one out of birth-and-death, compassion carrying sentient beings along — but, within this present sūtra, prajñā is the ox, the five other pāramitās are the ox's own adornment, skillful means is its retinue, and compassion is the carriage itself — this, too, is not the vehicle's own essence.

The Madhyāntavibhāga says: the vehicle is fivefold: first, the vehicle's own root, namely suchness and buddha-nature; second, the vehicle's own practice, namely merit and wisdom; third, the vehicle's own gathering-in, namely compassion; fourth, the vehicle's own obstruction, namely affliction — this is the obstruction of affliction; practice and understanding and the rest are the obstruction of wisdom; fifth, the vehicle's own fruit, namely buddhahood itself. The Vijñaptimātratāsiddhi says: "vehicle" carries the sense of "carrying out and bearing" — from suchness and buddha-nature, the practices of merit and wisdom and the rest issue forth; from these practices, the fruit of buddhahood issues forth; and by means of the fruit of buddhahood, sentient beings are borne out and carried across. The Mahāyānasaṃgraha says the vehicle is threefold: first, the vehicle's own cause, namely suchness and buddha-nature; second, the vehicle's own condition, namely the ten thousand practices; third, the vehicle's own fruit, namely buddhahood itself. The Fahua Lun clarifies the vehicle's own essence as "the Tathāgata's own equal Dharma-body," and again says: "the Tathāgata's own great final nirvāṇa" — these two passages seem to hide and reveal the same point in turn; arousing the aspiration, bowing the head, raising the hand, and the rest, are named the vehicle's own condition. The Twelve Gate Treatise clarifies the vehicle's own root as the real mark of all dharmas; the vehicle's own master as prajñā; the vehicle's own assistance as every practice's own resourcing and completion, the vehicle arriving at last at the wisdom that knows all things. These five treatises clarify the vehicle's own essence identically, differing only slightly in their own adornment; within this present sūtra's own clarification of the vehicle's essence, it is precisely the real mark, and its adornment is not taken as the essence. If the adornment itself were taken as the essence, this would not be the vehicle the Buddha himself rides upon.

Second, discussing the point of the essence: for what purpose must this essence be posited at all? The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: if a Hīnayāna sūtra is sealed with the three seals of impermanence, no-self, and nirvāṇa, then it is the Buddha's own word, and cultivating it, one attains the path; without these three dharma-seals, it is a demon's own word. A Mahāyāna sūtra has only a single dharma-seal, namely the real mark of all dharmas — named the sūtra of complete meaning, able to attain the great path; without the seal of the real mark, it is what a demon has spoken. Hence Śāriputra says, "The World-Honored One teaches the real path — Māra could never manage such a thing." Why does the Hīnayāna require three seals while the Mahāyāna requires only one? The Hīnayāna clarifies birth-and-death and nirvāṇa as different: birth-and-death takes impermanence as its first seal and no-self as its second, these two seals sealing the teaching of birth-and-death, while nirvāṇa uses only the single seal of quiescent extinction — hence three seals are required. In the Mahāyāna, birth-and-death is itself nirvāṇa, and nirvāṇa is itself birth-and-death, neither two nor different. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "Every sentient being constantly bears the mark of quiescent extinction" — this is precisely great nirvāṇa. And again: "Fundamentally, of itself, unborn; and, being so, now without cessation either." "Fundamentally unborn" means it does not bear the mark of impermanence or no-self; "now without cessation" means it does not bear the lesser mark of quiescent extinction — it is solely the one real mark. Being the real mark, it is said that the mark of constant quiescent extinction is itself great nirvāṇa, and hence only a single seal is used. These greater and lesser seals seal both the half-teaching and the full-teaching sūtras alike: no outsider is able to mix into them, and no heavenly demon is able to break them — just as, in worldly documents, a seal renders them trustworthy and credible. One should therefore know that every sūtra, without exception, must obtain the seal of the real mark before it can be named a sūtra of complete meaning within the Mahāyāna.

Third, directly clarifying the essence: this is precisely the single seal of the real mark. Among the three tracks, the track of real nature is taken. Among the ten dharma-realms, the buddha-realm is taken. Among the buddha-realm's own ten suchnesses, the suchness of essence is taken. Among the four kinds of the twelve links of dependent origination, the inconceivable, unborn, unceasing kind is taken. Among the twelve links themselves, the path of suffering, itself the Dharma-body, is taken. Among the four kinds of the Four Noble Truths, the unconditioned Four Noble Truths are taken; and, within the unconditioned, only the truth of cessation alone is taken. Among the seven kinds of two truths, the five kinds of two truths are taken; and, among these five, only the real truth alone is taken. Among the five kinds of three truths, the five kinds of the middle way's own truth of ultimate meaning are taken. Among every kind of one truth, the middle way's own one real truth is taken. Among every kind of "no truth," the middle way's own "no truth" is taken. If one grasps this same sense, then, within the wondrous of wisdom, distinguishing this same essence, and so on through each single one of the ten wondrous aspects, the correct essence may likewise be distinguished out from each — this may be understood by the same pattern throughout.

If the sense is clarified by way of illustration: it is like the beams and pillars that give order and structure to a house — yet neither the beam nor the pillar is the house itself, but rather the empty space contained within it. The pillar and beam illustrate cause and fruit; neither pillar nor beam illustrates the real mark — the real mark is the essence, not the pillar or beam. If the house had no empty space, it could hold nothing at all; if cause and fruit had no real mark, they could establish nothing at all. The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: without this very emptiness, nothing whatsoever could be accomplished. Again, it is like the sun and moon giving order to the heavens, or the ministers and generals assisting their sovereign: the sun and moon may be two, yet the great empty sky itself cannot be two; ministers and generals may be many, yet the sovereign cannot be many. For this same reason, the correct essence must be distinguished out from the rest. Just as the three tracks together form the vehicle, neither vertical nor horizontal, neither identical nor separate, it becomes convenient, for the sake of clarity, to distinguish contemplative illumination and the rest, pointing solely to real nature as the one to be properly named — the correct intent is thereby made plain. Since this holds true of the three tracks, every other dharma follows the identical pattern, and so on.

Fourth, citing proof-texts: the "Introduction" chapter says, "The present buddha has emitted this radiant light, thereby helping to reveal the sense of the real mark." And again: "The sense of the real mark of all dharmas has already been taught for your sake." The "Skillful Means" chapter says: "Only a buddha, together with another buddha, is able to fathom the real mark of all dharmas to its very limit." Within its verses it says: "After a long duration, every buddha's own dharma will inevitably come, at last, to teach what is true and real." And again: "I, by means of my own bodily marks, adorn myself... in order to teach the seal of the real mark." Śāriputra, having grasped and understood, says: "The World-Honored One teaches the real path — Māra could never manage such a thing." And again: "Abiding securely within real wisdom, I shall surely attain buddhahood." The "Teacher of the Dharma" chapter says: "opening the gate of skillful means, and showing the true and real mark." "Peaceful Practices" says: "contemplating all dharmas as their own real mark." "Life Span" says: "the Tathāgata's own true and real knowledge and vision." The Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra says: "Formerly, upon Vulture Peak, the one real path was broadly taught." And again: "contemplating the one real state." One thereby knows that every buddha appears in the world for the sake of the one great cause and condition, solely so that sentient beings may open the Buddha's own knowledge and vision, and see this one real principle, neither cause nor fruit. The sūtra's own text stands here as evidence, and may serve as clear proof.

Second, broadly distinguishing the false: the correct essence is profound and cut off from ordinary reach, difficult to know at a single glance; and, further, names belonging to the deviant and the lesser become mixed up with the correct and the great — like fish-eyes mingled together with genuine pearls — hence the false must be distinguished out. This is done under six senses: first, distinguishing in terms of the ordinary; second, distinguishing in terms of the outsider; third, distinguishing in terms of the lesser vehicle; fourth, distinguishing in terms of the one-sided; fifth, distinguishing by way of illustration; sixth, distinguishing in terms of awakening.

First, distinguishing in terms of the ordinary: the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: worldly canons, too, speak of "the real," meaning by this the protection of the nation and the governance of the household. Non-Buddhist outsiders, too, speak of "the real," meaning by this their own deviant wisdom and twisted understanding, which they take to be real. The Hīnayāna, too, speaks of "the real," meaning by this the weariness of suffering and the rest it seeks, taking the one-sided real truth as "the real." All such cases as these possess the name "real" alone, without its actual sense. Why is this? The world's own delusive sorcery and magical arts, too, are called "real," yet these are, for the most part, the workings of ghosts and spirits and their bewitchments — once this teaching enters the mind, one becomes deluded, intoxicated, and deranged, boasting of one's own excellence, claiming to surpass the truly real, setting up strange, unheard-of displays to stir the crowd, exhibiting bizarre and extraordinary marks. Some fill a skull with excrement and, before a great crowd, open their mouth wide and gulp it down; some devour raw fish and rotting flesh, heaping their plate ever higher; some go about naked or in tattered clothing, boasting arrogantly of their disregard for propriety; some come and go abruptly, neither asking nor answering — every kind of deceit and trickery, luring in the ignorant, causing them to believe, be defiled, and become attached. Once attached, seeking release proves impossible: inwardly, sickness afflicts their own body; outwardly, their household is executed and their clan destroyed, calamity extending even to their own kin; in this present life they undergo every kind of suffering, and, in the life to come, undergo the suffering of a long night in hell — life after life, obstructing the path, with no hope of ever attaining liberation. This is something plainly seen in the world — what "real" could there possibly be in it? It falls under the category of dull afflictions clinging to their own theories.

If the classics of Zhou and Confucius — the laws of governance, the laws of ritual propriety, the arts of war, the arts of medicine, astronomy and geography, the eight trigrams and the five phases, the world's own ancient canons — filial piety for governing the household, loyalty for governing the state, each cherishing their own kin, each caring for their own children, respecting those above and cherishing those below, benevolence and righteousness, courteous deference, bringing peace to the common people, establishing the altars of the hegemon's own state — were this teaching lost, the strong would trample the weak, the whole world thrown into anxious turmoil, the people unable to find any peace in their own lives, the birds given no time to roost, the beasts given no time to lie down; were this teaching relied upon, the whole world would be at great peace, oxen and horses turned inward toward home — one should know that this teaching, being precisely what cherishes the people and governs the state, is accordingly called "the real." The Suvarṇaprabhāsa Sūtra says, "Śakra, Lord of the Gods, teaches various supreme treatises" — this is precisely this same sense. This refers simply to the sense of the ten wholesome actions: cultivating the ten wholesome actions accords, above, with the heart of heaven, delighting every deva, and seeking the natural reward of heaven itself — this teaching, being supreme, is accordingly called a "supreme treatise." Again, the great Brahmā king teaches the treatise on transcending desire — this is precisely cultivating concentration to rise out of the mire of desire, and this, too, falls under the category of theories still bound by affection. The world, further, has its own esoteric arts: taking elixirs for long life, refining the body and transforming its appearance, becoming a flying immortal or rendering oneself invisible — those who call this secret, essential medicinal recipe "true and real" likewise fall under the category of dull afflictions clinging to their own theories.

Second, distinguishing in terms of the outsider: this refers to the canonical texts of the non-Buddhist outsiders. If one takes medicine seeking knowledge, becoming sharp, keen, and clear-sighted, reasoning out principle, and calls this medicinal recipe supreme and real — the power of the medicine is shallow knowledge, unable to perceive anything far-reaching; once one comes into contact with the drug it is lost, and once the drug's effect wears off it is lost as well — this, too, is not "the real." As for the Zhuangzi and Laozi of this land, with their non-action and freedom from desire, their heavenly, natural quiescence, resting from every boastful ambition, discarding sagehood and cutting off cleverness, and the rest — this is simply an empty, vacuous embrace of nothingness, not even escaping the single fourfold tetralemma of views, let alone having anything to do with the sagely Dharma. Even granting that it escapes the single fourfold tetralemma, it still falls into the compound fourfold tetralemma — walking within the net of views is not the path of liberation. As for the foreign debater Lunli, commissioned by King Lichang, who composed the Five Hundred Points of Difficulty — one of these asks: "Is Gautama's own path a single, ultimate path, or are there many ultimate paths?" The Buddha answers: "There is only the single, ultimate path." Lunli asks: "Why, then, do the various teachers each speak of their own ultimate path?" The Buddha points to a deer-headed ascetic: "Do you recognize him?" Lunli says: "I recognize him — among those on the ultimate path, he is counted foremost." The Buddha says: "If he had truly attained the ultimate path, why would he abandon his own path to become my own disciple?" Lunli, at this, was immediately awakened, and praised the Buddhadharma as alone possessing the single, ultimate path. Again, as Dīrghanakha says: "Every theory can be refuted, every statement can be overturned — contemplating the real mark of all dharmas, for a long while, not a single dharma entered my mind." The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "Dīrghanakha clung to the view of both existence and non-existence." And again: "He also reckoned the view of the inexpressible."

Kinds and classes such as these — hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of varieties — are idle theorizing born of delusion, carried along by confusion, the net of views vast and sprawling, deviant wisdom spilling over without bound, giving rise to attachment the moment it meets any object. Sometimes folding and unfolding: existence taken as existence; non-existence taken as non-existence; existence that is neither existence nor non-existence taken as existence; non-existence that is neither existence nor non-existence taken as non-existence — turned over a hundred, a thousand times, all of it, without exception, an inverted view, every one of them merely another edge of birth-and-death, none of them the truly real. The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Bound by the yoke of ignorance, tied to the pillar of birth-and-death, circling the twenty-five states of existence, unable to attain release" — this is precisely this same sense.

Third, distinguishing in terms of the lesser vehicle: within the śrāvaka's own dharma, too, it is said: "Departing from both existence and non-existence is named the noble middle way." The Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra says: "The śramaṇa Kauṇḍinya was the very first to attain the true and real knowledge and vision." Yet the Hīnayāna does not carry forth great compassion, does not deliver sentient beings, its own power of merit being weak; it does not seek to become a buddha, nor does it deeply fathom the real mark, and so its wisdom remains inferior and weak. Though it, too, speaks of departing from both existence and non-existence as the noble middle way, it takes the two views of annihilation and eternalism as the two extremes, and the real truth as the middle way. True, untainted wisdom is named "seeing"; realizing the dharma of nirvāṇa is named "knowing" — though it severs views and thought, and eliminates segmented birth-and-death, it still dwells within the thatched hut, not the ultimate principle. Set against the prior extreme of birth-and-death, this is simply the extreme of nirvāṇa — both alike can be broken and destroyed, neither being the truly real path, and hence this is not named the real mark.

Fourth, distinguishing in terms of the one-sided: among the various Mahāyāna sūtras, wherever the two lesser vehicles are addressed together, accompanied by skillful means, the names used are identical, yet their sense must be distinguished. As the Mahāyāna teaching says: "The persons of the three vehicles alike sever affliction by means of the path without verbal expression." The Mūlamadhyamakakārikā says, "the real mark of all dharmas is attained jointly by persons of all three vehicles" — though the two lesser vehicles' own persons alike receive this path without verbal expression, they seek only their own release from suffering, without the mind of great compassion, and, once attaining emptiness, they come to rest — the dull-faculty bodhisattva is exactly the same. The sharp-faculty bodhisattva, moved by great compassion for the sake of beings, seeks the real mark deeply. The real mark shared in common with the two lesser vehicles has a wisdom like the light of a firefly, and hence is not "the real"; the real mark not shared in common with them has a wisdom like the light of the sun, and hence is "the real." The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says, "The emptiness of ultimate meaning is named wisdom." The two lesser vehicles attain only bare emptiness, and bare emptiness is without wisdom; the bodhisattva attains an emptiness that is not bare, which is precisely the wisdom of the middle way. This wisdom is quiescent, yet constantly illuminating; the two lesser vehicles attain only its quiescence, not its quiescent illumination, and hence theirs is not the real mark. The bodhisattva attains quiescence, and, further, attains quiescent illumination as well — this is precisely the real mark.

As for seeing non-emptiness, there are, further, many kinds. First, seeing non-emptiness by severing the fetters in sequence, proceeding from the shallow to the deep — this is merely the real of resemblance, not the correct real. Second, seeing non-emptiness as complete with every dharma: the very first "a" syllable-gate already resolves every meaning at once — at once the middle, at once the provisional, at once emptiness, neither one nor different, neither three nor one. The two lesser vehicles attain only the single "at-once"; the distinct teaching attains only two of the "at-onces"; the perfect teaching is complete with all three "at-onces" — these three "at-onces" together are the true and real mark. The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "What is the real mark? It is the bodhisattva entering into the one mark, knowing the immeasurable marks, and, knowing the immeasurable marks, entering once more into the one mark." The two lesser vehicles enter only the one mark, unable to know the immeasurable marks; the distinct teaching, though it enters the one mark and further enters the immeasurable marks, is unable to enter once more into the one mark. The sharp-faculty bodhisattva, being at once empty, enters the one mark; being at once provisional, knows the immeasurable marks; being at once the middle, enters once more into the one mark. Such a bodhisattva, seeking deeply into the great ocean of the perfection of wisdom, finds the single mind to be, at once, the three — this is the essence of the true and real mark.

The Avataṃsaka is not shared in common with the two lesser vehicles at all, being addressed solely to the bodhisattva: attaining the three kinds of wisdom in sequence is likewise not the correct real; attaining them not in sequence is the correct real. Within the vaipulya teachings, four kinds of persons attain the three kinds of wisdom — three of these persons attain it emptily, and only one attains it as real. The Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra's own three wisdoms are spoken of as belonging to three kinds of persons: the first two do not seek deeply, and, being shallow, are not the real; the last of these three persons alone seeks deeply into the single mind's own three kinds of wisdom, and hence alone is the real. This present sūtra's own "you are truly my own children" admits no longer any of these various persons, whether four or three — sought throughout the ten directions, no other vehicle whatsoever remains, only the one wisdom of the real mark, decisively resolving the śrāvaka's own dharma, teaching only the unsurpassed path — purely and solely the one, real essence.

The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says: "The one real truth has no second — and, having no second, it is named the one real truth. Again, the one real truth is named free of falsehood; again, the one real truth has no inverted view; again, the one real truth is not what a demon speaks; again, the one real truth is named permanence, bliss, self, and purity." Permanence, bliss, self, and purity have no distinction of emptiness, the provisional, and the middle. Were there such a distinction, this would make two, and, being two, it would not be the one real truth; the one real truth is at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle, with no distinction and no duality, and hence it is named the one real truth. If there were three distinct things, this would be falsehood, and a false dharma cannot be named the one real truth; being without these three distinctions, it is precisely the one real truth. If there were such a distinction, this would be an inverted view not yet broken through, and not the one real truth; being without the three distinctions, there is no inverted view, and, being without any inverted view, it is named the one real truth. Where there is distinction, it cannot be named the one vehicle; the three dharmas being undistinguished, complete and perfectly full, this is named the one vehicle. This vehicle, lofty and broad, adorned with every kind of jewel, is accordingly named the one real truth.

Though Māra cannot realize distinct and separate emptiness and the provisional, he is nonetheless able to speak of distinct and separate emptiness and the provisional; but if emptiness, the provisional, and the middle are undistinguished, Māra is unable to speak of this at all — and it is precisely because Māra is unable to speak of it that it is named the one real truth. If emptiness, the provisional, and the middle are distinguished, this is named an inverted view; if undistinguished, this is named free of inverted views. Being free of inverted views, there is no affliction; being free of affliction, this is named purity. Being free of affliction, there is no karma; being free of karma, this is named self. Being free of karma, there is no retribution; being free of retribution, this is named bliss. Being free of retribution, there is no birth-and-death; being free of birth-and-death, this is named permanence. Permanence, bliss, self, and purity — this is named the one real truth.

The one real truth is precisely the real mark; the real mark is precisely the sūtra's own correct essence. This same real mark is at once empty, at once provisional, and at once the middle: being at once empty, it breaks through every ordinary being's own theories born of attachment, and breaks through every non-Buddhist outsider's own theories born of views; being at once provisional, it breaks through the Tripiṭaka teaching's own fourfold gate of lesser reality, and breaks through the shared reality that the three kinds of persons alike see as lesser; being at once the middle, it breaks through the sequential, one-sided reality, so that no inverted, lesser, one-sided dharma of cause, fruit, or the Four Noble Truths remains, nor any lesser, one-sided name of the Three Jewels — there remains only the real mark's own cause and fruit, the Four Noble Truths, and the Three Jewels, vividly and completely present. It is likewise complete with every expedient means' own cause and fruit, Four Noble Truths, and Three Jewels. Why is this? Because the real mark is itself the ocean of the dharma-realm — these three truths alone are precisely the true and real mark.

Again, opening the sequential reality is precisely the perfect reality, since the realization of the path is identical either way. Again, opening the reality jointly attained by the three kinds of persons, since seeking it deeply, one arrives, either way, at the very same bottom. Again, opening the Tripiṭaka teaching's own reality decisively resolves the śrāvaka's own dharma. Again, opening every theory born of views' own reality, since, without being moved from views, one nonetheless cultivates the factors of the path. Again, opening every theory born of attachment's own reality, since Māra's own realm is itself already the buddha-realm — walking amid what is not the path, one thoroughly penetrates through to the buddha-path. Within every dharma without exception, the nature of peace and bliss is entirely present. This is clarifying the real in the absolute sense, and this is the sūtra's own essence.

Fifth, distinguishing by way of illustration: here, three illustrations are borrowed to directly manifest the false and the true, while also clarifying the senses of opening and closing, breaking through and gathering together, and the rest.

First, the illustration of three beasts crossing a river, all entering the water together: the three beasts differ in strength, and the river's own water has both a bottom and a far shore. The rabbit and the horse, weaker in strength, though they cross to the far shore, float only near the surface, not reaching any depth, and do not reach the bottom; the great elephant, strong in strength, alone reaches both the bottom and the far shore. The three beasts illustrate three kinds of persons; the water illustrates emptiness itself; the bottom illustrates non-emptiness. The two lesser vehicles, of little wisdom, unable to seek deeply, are illustrated by the rabbit and the horse; the bodhisattva, of deep wisdom, is illustrated by the great elephant. The water's own softness illustrates emptiness — all three see emptiness alike, but do not see non-emptiness. The bottom illustrates the real mark, which the bodhisattva alone reaches — the wise one sees both emptiness and non-emptiness together. Even reaching it has two further kinds: the small elephant reaches only the muddy bottom, while the great elephant reaches deep down to the solid earth itself — the distinct teaching's own wisdom, though it sees non-emptiness, does so only sequentially, and is not yet the real; the perfect teaching sees non-emptiness and fathoms it to its very limit, manifesting the truly real. An illustration of this kind not only distinguishes and refutes the rabbit and horse — the two lesser vehicles — as not the real, but also distinguishes the small elephant's own non-emptiness as not the real, taking instead only the great elephant's own non-emptiness as this present sūtra's own essence. This distinguishing is made in terms of emptiness and the middle taken jointly as the real truth.

Second, the illustration of the crystal gem and the wish-fulfilling jewel: these two gems resemble one another, their shape and kind seemingly the same, and yet the crystal gem is merely empty and unable to rain down treasures, while the wish-fulfilling jewel is both empty and yet also rains down treasures. The crystal gem, having no treasure within it, illustrates one-sided emptiness; the wish-fulfilling jewel's own ability to rain down treasure illustrates the middle way — this distinguishing is made in terms of existence and non-existence taken together as the conventional, distinguishing the false to reveal the true. This present sūtra's own essence is the same as the wish-fulfilling jewel.

Again, taking the single wish-fulfilling jewel alone as the illustration: one who obtains the jewel but does not know its own power and function has only the bare jewel and nothing more. The wise person who obtains it gains a great deal from it; the two lesser vehicles obtain emptiness and, realizing emptiness, come to rest; the bodhisattva obtains emptiness and, by skillful means, brings benefit, delivering everyone universally. This distinguishing is made in terms of the real truth that contains the middle within it, distinguishing gain from loss. This present sūtra is like the wise person who obtains the wish-fulfilling jewel, and this is taken as the sūtra's own essence.

Third, the illustration of gold within a yellow stone: the ignorant, common person, lacking any discernment, looks upon it and calls it a mere stone, casting it away amid filth and refuse, giving it no regard at all; a merchant obtains it, smelts out the gold within, and simply guards it as a valuable possession; a goldsmith obtains it, and fashions from it every kind of hairpin, bracelet, and ring; an immortal-seeking adept obtains it, and refines it into the golden elixir, flying through the heavens and passing into the earth, touching the sun and moon, transforming and penetrating freely. The rustic person illustrates every ordinary being, who, though possessing the real mark, does not know how to cultivate and practice it. The merchant illustrates the two lesser vehicles, who merely sever the ore of affliction and guard the bare gold of emptiness, doing nothing further with it. The goldsmith illustrates the distinct teaching's bodhisattva, skillful in expedient means, knowing emptiness to be not bare emptiness, emerging into the provisional to transform beings, adorning buddha-lands, and bringing sentient beings to accomplishment. The immortal-seeking adept illustrates the perfect teaching's bodhisattva, real precisely within phenomena themselves, who, at the very moment the aspiration is first aroused, already accomplishes correct enlightenment, attaining a single body that is also immeasurable bodies, responding universally to all. This present sūtra takes only the golden elixir — the real mark — as its own essence.

Taken as an illustration of sameness, from beginning to end it is, throughout, the identical gold — the ordinary being and the perfect teaching alike are both, alike, the real mark. Taken as an illustration of difference: at first, the stone differs from the gold; next, the gold differs from the vessel fashioned from it; the vessel differs from the elixir. The elixir's own color, pure and translucent, resembles clarified oil, soft and wondrously fine — how could it possibly be the same as a bracelet or ring, differing utterly in both form and color, and hence not of a single kind. This distinguishing is made by granting and withdrawing, breaking through and gathering together, distinguishing gain from loss.

Citing these three illustrations: the first illustrates faculties. Faculties have both shallow and deep degrees — the shallow attain emptiness alone; the deep attain the provisional as well, and, further, attain the middle. Second, this illustrates three kinds of disposition: the first disposition seeks only to escape suffering, with no aspiration to seek the buddha-path, coming to rest the moment the real is glimpsed; the next disposition proceeds sequentially, unable to cultivate in the perfect manner; the last disposition seeks vastly and broadly, throughout the whole dharma-realm. Third, this illustrates three kinds of skillful means: the two lesser vehicles' own skillful means is meager, and they guard their gold, remaining fixed in place; the distinct teaching's own skillful means is weak, able only to adorn and manage their own livelihood; the perfect teaching's own skillful means is deep, and hence able to swallow the clouds and take in the very sky itself.

Here, clarifying this present sūtra's own essence, the real mark: like the great elephant reaching the bottom, firm and indestructible, this illustrates the wondrousness of the essence; the perfect jewel raining down treasure everywhere illustrates the wondrousness of its function; skillful wisdom accomplishing the immortal illustrates the wondrousness of the cardinal doctrine. These three illustrations together are precisely the three virtues, neither vertical nor horizontal, named the Great Vehicle. Within the Great Vehicle, real nature alone is specifically pointed to as the sūtra's own essence.

Sixth, distinguishing in terms of awakening: though the mark of the dharma is truly correct and real, exactly as explained above, if practice has not yet converged with principle, how could it possibly be named "the truth"? To exhaust oneself uselessly with these four kinds of talk, chasing after awakening yet only generating further confusion, is like one who, told that rice-powder is soft, that snow is cold, that a conch-shell is hard, that a crane is something that moves, in the end never manages to see milk's own true color at all. A disposition wandering in the darkness of night — how could it possibly arrive at the truth? Crying out in search of food brings no principle of ever being filled.

Clinging to one's own view as the real, and taking every other view as false speech — "this exists, that does not," right and wrong arising from one another, only adding further to the endless churning — how could this possibly be named "the truth"?

If one wishes to see the truth, one must feel shame and remorse, undergoing bitter repentance to its very limit, so that one's own capacity moves the buddhas to respond; dhyāna and wisdom open and unfold, the contemplation of mind becomes clear and pure, and faith and understanding become empty and unobstructed. Even at this point, one is still only like seeing a stake within the darkness — hazy and unclear, unable even to tell a person from a piece of wood, an insect from a speck of dust. If one is able to remain settled and patient, so that no attachment to the Dharma itself arises, fundamental ignorance is suddenly broken through, like a bright mirror, unmoving, or clear water, without any ripple, in which the forms of fish and stone appear of themselves, spontaneously clear — the pure mind constantly one. Such a person, honored and wondrous, is then able to see prajñā itself, as though a golden probe had removed the cataract from the eye, discerning one finger, two fingers, or three fingers held up, each perfectly distinct. At that moment, seeing form, to say it exists is correct, and to say it does not exist is likewise correct.

How is it said to exist? It is form, utterly distinct and definite, corresponding to the eye; principle, utterly true and certain, matching wisdom itself — this is named "existing."

How is it named non-existent? There is no longer any mark of hardness, cold, softness, or motion remaining — this is named "non-existent." The Treatise says: all is real; all is not real; both real and not real; neither real nor not real. All of these, alike, are named the real mark of all dharmas. It is like Śāriputra, abiding securely within real wisdom: "I shall surely attain buddhahood," honored by both devas and humans. At that moment, one may indeed say that it is eternally exhausted and extinguished, with no residue remaining — this is named truly and really seeing the essence. Hence the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Eight thousand śrāvakas, within the Lotus Sūtra, beheld the Tathāgata's own nature, like the autumn harvest stored away for winter, with nothing further left to do."

Clarifying "nothing further to do" in terms of principle, this is the ultimate principle itself. In terms of teaching, "nothing further to do" means that, having heard this teaching, one seeks no other teaching elsewhere. In terms of practice, "nothing further to do" means that, having cultivated this practice, one no longer changes course. Senses of "nothing further to do" of this kind are of many varieties, and so on. Stated briefly: it is by means of awakening that follows wisdom that one comes to see the sūtra's own essence. One ought to take up this same sense of awakening following wisdom, and, passing through the various truths and objects one by one, distinguish, at every node, the various senses that follow feeling, that follow wisdom, and that follow feeling-and-wisdom together, setting aside every other feeling and notion, and taking up only what follows wisdom alone — this is clearly seeing the sūtra's own essence.

Third, one dharma under many names: this is, in turn, treated under four senses: first, listing the differing names; second, explaining them; third, illustrating by way of comparison; fourth, in terms of the four accommodations. First, listing the differing names: the real mark's own essence is simply a single dharma, and yet the Buddha teaches it under various names — also named wondrous being, true and good wondrous form, the ultimate limit, ultimate emptiness, suchness, nirvāṇa, the buddha-nature of empty space, the tathāgatagarbha, the mind of the middle, real principle, the middle way of neither existence nor non-existence, the truth of ultimate meaning, subtle quiescent extinction, and the rest. Every one of these immeasurable, differing names is, alike, a separate designation for the real mark, and the real mark is, likewise, a differing designation for every one of these names. Those caught in confusion become mired and stuck, clinging to a single name and construing it differently from the rest. The sūtra says, "Doubt and regret born of ignorance lead to eternal loss." Hīnayāna commentators, fixated solely upon names and marks, give rise to dispute and contention, slandering others over what is not even a matter of the dharma itself, each generation imitating the last, becoming enemies for the sake of the very Dharma they claim to serve. Mahāyāna students, too, do exactly the same: those who study "wondrous being" proclaim themselves to have reached the very pinnacle, and, hearing of "ultimate emptiness," give rise to slander, refusing to accept that teaching or tolerate its adherents; those who study "ultimate emptiness" gather together into their own faction, drawing what is correct to themselves and pushing what is deviant onto others. None of them recognize that the lord of the heavens has a thousand names — delighted to hear him called Śakra, Lord of the Gods, yet angered to hear him called "Śacī's husband," honoring him as Indra while scorning and insulting him as Kauśika — one fears their own merit could never make up for such a loss. The real mark is exactly the same: being, alike, the single dharma, how could one possibly slander it under one name while believing in it under another?

Second, explaining them: the Hīnayāna's own name and essence have, from the start, been easy and simple, and are set aside here without further discussion. What is here distinguished is treated solely in terms of the distinct and perfect teachings' own eight gates, further explained through four propositions: first, name, sense, and essence the same; second, name, sense, and essence differing; third, name and sense the same while essence differs; fourth, name and sense differing while essence is the same.

As for the first proposition: taking "wondrous being" as the name, "true and good wondrous form" as the sense, and "the ultimate limit" as the essence. Next, taking "ultimate emptiness" as the name, "suchness" as the sense, and "nirvāṇa" as the essence. Next, taking "the buddha-nature of empty space" as the name, "the tathāgatagarbha" as the sense, and "the mind of the middle, real principle" as the essence. Next, taking "the middle way of neither existence nor non-existence" as the name, "the truth of ultimate meaning" as the sense, and "subtle quiescent extinction" as the essence. Names of this kind, though their approach and aim differ, all alike make use of a single gate, with no distinction of intent at all — hence it is said that name, sense, and essence are the same.

The second proposition, name, sense, and essence differing: as when "wondrous being" is the name, "ultimate emptiness" is the sense, and "the tathāgatagarbha" is the essence. Again, "emptiness" is the name, "the tathāgatagarbha" is the sense, and "the middle way" is the essence. Again, "the tathāgatagarbha" is the name, "the middle way" is the sense, and "wondrous being" is the essence. Again, "the middle way" is the name, "wondrous being" is the sense, and "emptiness" is the essence. Gates of this kind differ from one another in every direction, all three elements distinct throughout — hence it is said that name, sense, and essence differ.

The third proposition, name and sense the same while essence differs: taking "wondrous being" as the name and "wondrous form" as the sense, with "ultimate emptiness" as the essence — here the two are the same while the one differs, hence it is said that name and sense are the same while essence differs. Again, taking "emptiness" as the name and "suchness" as the sense, with "wondrous being" as the essence — this, too, is a case of the two being the same while the one differs. The remaining two gates are exactly the same, hence it is said that name and sense are the same while essence differs.

The fourth proposition, name and sense differing while essence is the same: as with "wondrous being" and the rest, each name differs from the others; and "true, good form" and the rest, each sense differs from the others; and yet they converge together upon the identical single essence, with no second direction at all — hence it is said that name and sense differ while essence is the same. The remaining three gates are exactly the same.

In the first three propositions, name and sense are never fully merged. In the first proposition, seeking a single name, one attains a single sense and a single essence — within that particular gate, all is perfectly merged, with no bearing on any other matter. In the second proposition, seeking differing names, one recognizes differing senses and differing essences — essence, sense, and name are here least merged of all, and this is easily understood. In the third proposition, the essence itself is not merged, and though name and sense are the same, they never truly come together in the end — each is simply a particular gate clarifying its own sense. For one who fails to grasp this, disputes arise from exactly this point — sometimes the lesser vehicle encroaching upon the great, sometimes the great vehicle wresting something away from the lesser. Why is this? The Hīnayāna, wishing to sever birth-and-death, hears of "ultimate" emptiness as not being bare emptiness, and, following its own inclination and desire, insists that this must simply mean bare emptiness, clinging to this and giving rise to dispute. Again, the Hīnayāna, wishing to sever birth-and-death, holds it is "not existent"; and, breaking through the affliction of clinging to nirvāṇa, holds it is "not non-existent" — hearing the middle way described as neither existent nor non-existent, and bolstering its own lesser inclination with this, it insists this must simply be its own prior teaching of neither existent nor non-existent, and so, over these two gates especially, dispute frequently arises. If it hears of the mind of the middle, real principle, which is plainly at odds with the lesser vehicle, no dispute arises at all — why is this? The two lesser vehicles delight in emptiness, yet now hear of existence; the two lesser vehicles reduce body and extinguish wisdom to ashes, yet now hear of mind and wisdom — being so plainly at odds with their own inclination, they do not cling to this to make a dispute of it. It is precisely because the lesser encroaches by pilfering from the great that dispute arises. As for the great wresting something from the lesser: Mahāyāna students, seeing the emptiness-gate and the neither-empty-nor-existent gate shared in common with the three vehicles, sharing an identical name with the two lesser vehicles, fail to see the deeper intent, and so dismiss them as belonging to some deceptive appearance, not the true doctrine. Taking up only the two gates of "wondrous being" and "both empty and existent," and citing these as the perfect and eternal dharma, whether they concede these two gates to the lesser vehicles or not — this dispute is comparatively minor. But if one knows that emptiness here means not bare emptiness, and that "neither existent nor non-existent" here means excluding both extremes, then all four gates alike are claimed away from the lesser vehicle, and the lesser vehicle bitterly disputes over these same two gates.

Furthermore, even among the Mahāyāna's own four gates, name and sense are not fully merged, and gate disputes with gate, each devouring the other — how much more so, then, the Hīnayāna, a mere jackal daring to encroach upon the lion — could it possibly fail to be devoured by it?

The first three propositions all give rise to dispute, and are not this present sūtra's own essence. The fourth proposition — name and sense differing while essence is the same — has an essence possessing many senses, its function and use exceedingly abundant. The four gates, following conditions, take up various differing designations, and, because the essence itself is fully merged, it perfectly responds to every name; the dharma's own essence being identical throughout, differing names and differing senses give rise to no dispute at all. What, then, is its own mark? This shall now be briefly stated. The Sūtra of Immeasurable Meanings says: "Immeasurable meanings arise from a single dharma. That single dharma is what is called the real mark." The real mark's own mark is markless, yet not without mark; without mark, yet not markless — it is accordingly named "the real mark," this name obtained from its own indestructible, true reality. Again, this real mark is the very dharma every buddha has attained, and hence it is called "wondrous being." Though wondrous being cannot ordinarily be seen, every buddha is able to see it, and hence it is called "true, good, wondrous form." The real mark is not "being" in the sense of either of the two extremes, and hence it is named "ultimate emptiness." The principle of emptiness, still and unmoving, neither one nor different, and hence it is named "suchness." The real mark is quiescent and extinguished, and hence it is named "nirvāṇa." Awakened understanding, unchanging, and hence it is named "the buddha-nature of empty space." Containing and receiving so much within it, and hence it is named "the tathāgatagarbha." Quiescent illumination and numinous knowing, and hence it is named "the mind of the middle, real principle." Depending neither upon existence nor attaching to non-existence, and hence it is named "the middle way." Supreme, with nothing surpassing it, and hence it is named "the truth of ultimate meaning." Every one of these various, differing names is, alike, named "the real mark"; their various reasons are, alike, the real mark's own functions and capacities. Its essence being already perfectly merged, name and sense present no barrier between them at all — this, then, is the sūtra's own correct essence.

Again, since every dharma is itself a differing name for the real mark, the real mark is their own proper essence; and, again, the real mark is itself a differing name for every dharma, so every dharma is its own proper essence. Wondrous being cannot be destroyed, and hence it is named "the real mark." Every buddha is able to see it, and hence it is named "true, good, wondrous form." Unmixed with any other thing, it is named "ultimate emptiness." Without duality and without distinction, it is named "suchness." Awakened understanding, unchanging, it is named "buddha-nature." Containing and providing for every dharma, it is named "the tathāgatagarbha." Quiescent extinction and numinous knowing, it is named "the mind of the middle, real principle." Excluding and departing from every extreme, it is named "the middle way." Unsurpassed, with nothing beyond it, it is named "the truth of ultimate meaning." Taking up any single dharma as its own proper essence, and establishing a designation according to its function, may be understood by this same pattern. The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says: "The dharma of liberation carries many names — a hundred phrases for liberation, and yet only the one liberation." The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "If one contemplates the Buddha in accordance with the dharma, prajñā and nirvāṇa — these three are but a single mark; in reality, there is no difference among them." If one grasps this same sense, one knows that every various name is, alike, named "the real mark," and is also named "prajñā," and is also named "liberation." The three dharmas are themselves, too, names for every dharma, and every dharma is, too, the essence of these three dharmas, and so on.

Third, illustrating by way of comparison: it is like a person named Goldsmith, able to forge gold, whose body itself is yellow — this illustrates the first proposition's own dharma. It is like a person named Blue, who is also able to make lacquer, whose body is pure white. Again, a person named Crow, able to grind cinnabar, whose body is purple. Cases of this kind, immeasurable in the hundreds and thousands, with differing names, skills, and bodies, illustrate the second proposition. It is like a hundred persons sharing the same surname and given name, all understanding the identical single skill, and yet each of their bodies differs — this illustrates the third proposition. It is like a single person who, meeting with the calamity of a household thrown into chaos, changes his surname wherever he goes, alters his given name wherever he goes — of the kind of Zhang Yi or Fan Li — passing through many official posts, his own single body furnished with every rank. If named according to his many skills, he is called a master of calligraphy, painting, metalworking, and the rest; if named according to civil office, a scholar of the Confucian forest or a court attendant; if named according to military office, Xiong Qu or Cifei. Changing his name according to where he is illustrates differing names; being designated according to his skill illustrates differing senses; and yet the essence is one and the same — never a different person at all. The sūtra says, "A mighty warrior of the royal household, a single man worth a thousand" — this person need not actually match the strength of a thousand men in combat; it is simply that, by means of every kind of skill and art, he is able to surpass a thousand, and hence he is called "worth a thousand." Skilled in every craft, there is no skill he does not master; serving in every office, there is no post he has not held. He is the indestructible person, the person of wondrous skill and art, the person of robust constitution, the person without fault or flaw, the person of pervasive penetration able to defeat every enemy, the person of noble lineage, the person rich in wealth and skill, the person of great knowledge, the person honest and upright among commoners, the person crowned above all — this illustrates the fourth proposition's own dharma. The illustration, cool and clear, thereby makes known that the first three propositions belong to the particular sense, while the last alone belongs to the perfect sense.

Fourth, in terms of the four accommodations.

Question: If the real mark is a single dharma, why are its names and senses so profuse?

Answer: It is accommodated to the various differences of each hearer's own faculties — accommodating their desire, accommodating what is fitting, accommodating the antidote, accommodating their awakening. It is comparable to ordinary people in the world: one who studies the Abhidharma's own enumerations sets aside the great vehicle; one who cultivates the Mahāyāna abandons the lesser; one habituated to emptiness detests existence; one who favors the bodhisattva grounds dismisses the middle. Not wishing to hear something, one who hears it takes no delight in it, has no mind to believe and accept it, does not extinguish affliction by it, and does not arouse the aspiration for the path from it. Each, habituated one-sidedly to their own particular canon, forms this into their own settled disposition, which then becomes the condition for their own future hearing of the Dharma. The Tathāgata, at the appropriate time, observes with the buddha-eye their faith and every other faculty, and, with a certain number of words, teaches the Dharma according to whatever skillful means suits them. For those of the faculty for existence, he teaches wondrous being, true, good, wondrous form — neither contrary nor resistant to their own inclination — faith, precepts, forbearance, and diligence sweeping away their own view of emptiness, so that they are thereby able to awaken and enter, according with the real mark. For those of the faculty for emptiness, he teaches ultimate emptiness, suchness, nirvāṇa, and the rest — listened to and received with full attention, using good to attack evil, the markless being supreme. For those of the faculty for both emptiness and existence, he teaches the buddha-nature of empty space, the tathāgatagarbha, the mind of the middle, real principle — joyfully giving rise to goodness, departing from what is not real, the mind made pure. For those of the faculty for neither emptiness nor existence, he teaches precisely the middle way of neither existence nor non-existence, excluding both extremes — neither coming nor going, neither annihilated nor eternal, neither one nor different, and the rest. Wishing to hear it, they delight in it as one thirsty delights in drink; believing and taking joy in cultivating it, every kind of good arises, every clinging view is thereby dispelled, no evil remains unexhausted, and the principle of ultimate meaning bursts forth, radiantly clear.

Accommodated to these same four faculties, the four gates are taught differently; because the teaching differs, the names differ; because the function differs, the senses differ — yet the principle awakened to is no different, and the essence, in the end, is one and the same. Hence Guṇavarman says: "Every treatise has its own differing point of departure, yet in cultivating practice, the principle admits of no second; those who cling one-sidedly raise up disputes of right and wrong, while the one who has truly penetrated it holds no contention at all." Hence the four accommodations' own differing proclamations are simply differing names for the one real thing.

Fourth, clarifying the gates that enter the real mark: the real mark is profound and subtle, its principle deep and unfathomable, like ascending a sheer chasm, which necessarily requires a flying ladder; to reach the true source, it is necessary to rely on teaching and practice, and hence teaching and practice are taken as the gates. The text below says, "By means of the Buddha's own teaching-gate, one departs from the suffering of the three realms," and, "Once the buddha's child has practiced the path, in a future life he shall attain buddhahood" — "gate" is named for its capacity to lead through, precisely this same sense. This is briefly treated under four senses: first, briefly showing the marks of the gates; second, showing the contemplation that enters the gates; third, showing coarse and wondrous; fourth, showing opening and revealing.

As for showing the marks of the gates: the Buddhadharma cannot be directly displayed as such, and, taught according to conditions, it must necessarily be expounded through four propositions concerning principle, able to lead the practitioner into the ground of true reality. The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "Concerning a dharma of this kind, teaching the siddhānta of ultimate meaning: namely, that all is real; that all is not real; that all is both real and not real; that all is neither real nor not real." All of these, alike, are named the real mark of all dharmas. Yet the real mark is not even a single thing to begin with — how, then, could it be spoken of as four? One should know that these four are simply "the gates that enter the real mark."

It further says: "the four gates enter the cooling pond" — these gates are unobstructed, admitting not only the sharp-faculty but the dull-faculty as well; not only those settled in concentration, but those of scattered mind, single-minded resolve, or diligent striving, are equally admitted. It further says: "Prajñā has four kinds of marks, namely the mark of existence, the markless mark, and even the marks of neither existence nor non-existence." Prajñā, too, is not even a single mark to begin with — how, then, could it have four marks? One should know that these, too, are simply the gates that enter prajñā. It further says: "The perfection of wisdom is like a great blazing flame — it cannot be grasped from any of its four sides, since deviant views are themselves consumed by its fire." If one does not touch the fire, it warms the body and cooks food; if one touches the fire, the fire itself burns the body — the body, once burned, renders the warming of food useless. The four gates fundamentally lead through to prajñā, removing affliction and accomplishing the great task; but if one clings and becomes attached to them, this becomes a deviant view, burning the Dharma-body itself. Once the Dharma-body is burned, what could the four gates possibly lead through to? Only by not touching the fire can the gate truly lead through.

If the Buddha's own teaching is taken as the gate, the teaching, in brief, is fourfold, and so on. If, within a single teaching, principle is expounded through the four propositions, this is precisely the four gates; four teachings times four propositions together make sixteen gates. If practice is taken as the gate, receiving the teaching and cultivating contemplation, entering by means of reflection — this is practice taken as the gate. Relying on the teaching to arouse the real is teaching taken as the gate. If, upon first hearing the teaching, one is like a swift horse that enters the correct road the very moment it sees the shadow of the whip, one need not further cultivate contemplation. If, upon first cultivating contemplation, one is like one who, seeing a flash of lightning by night, thereby immediately sees the path, one need not further rely on the teaching. Both cases are due to wholesome roots from former lives, already ripened and habituated; one who now gains penetration through the gate of teaching is named "the one who follows through faith"; one who gains penetration through the gate of contemplation is named "the one who follows through the dharma." If, upon hearing, one is not immediately awakened, one ought to cultivate contemplation further; and if awakened through contemplation, one is thereby transformed into "the one who follows through the dharma." If, cultivating contemplation, one is not awakened, one ought to further listen to the teaching; and if awakened through listening to the teaching, one is thereby renamed "the one who follows through faith." Teaching is itself the gate of contemplation, and contemplation is itself the gate of teaching.

Hearing the teaching and thereby contemplating, contemplating and thereby hearing the teaching — teaching and contemplation mutually assisting one another, one thereby leads through and forms the gate. Discussed jointly, teaching and contemplation together yield thirty-two gates — this figure states only their general number. Examined closely, the gates are, in reality, immeasurable. The five hundred bodily causes, the thirty-two non-dual gates; Sudhana, wandering throughout the dharma-realm, encountering immeasurable spiritual friends, is taught immeasurable teaching-gates and immeasurable contemplative practices. As with the City of Gladly Seen, with its twelve hundred gates — the city of the Dharma of the real mark, how could it possibly have only a single track? The sūtra says, "Teaching every kind of Dharma-gate, proclaiming and revealing the buddha-path." Here, then, taking up the Four Teachings, the marks of the sixteen gates shall be clarified.

As for the Tripiṭaka teaching's own four gates: first, clarifying the gate of existence — namely, that the dharma of birth-and-death is, at root, made neither by some worldly primal nature, nor by atomic particles, nor by one's own parents, but is rather the correct causal dharma of ignorance, giving rise to every formation, affliction, karma, and suffering — the three paths, every one of them, are existence. Every conditioned thing is impermanent, suffering, empty, and without self, able to bring forth warmth, summit, and the supreme worldly dharma, arousing the true, untainted cause, and, by means of the true, cultivating the path. This, then, is the truth of the path, and this, too, is existence. Once the causal and resultant fetters are severed, one attains nirvāṇa with residue remaining and nirvāṇa with no residue remaining. Hence the Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra says: "The exceedingly profound principle cannot be spoken of; the truth of ultimate meaning has no sound or syllable — the monk Kauṇḍinya, with respect to every dharma, attained the true and real knowledge and vision." This, then, is the cause extinguished and the truth converged upon, and this truth, too, is existence. This is what every Abhidharma treatise sets forth: seeing existence, one attains the path — this is precisely the gate of existence.

Second, the gate of emptiness: this is precisely that same teaching's own analysis of the correct causal dharma — ignorance, old age and death, the two truths of suffering and arising — the threefold provisional, fleeting and unsubstantial, breaking through the provisional and the real, entering entirely into the equality of emptiness, arousing the true and untainted, seeing the truth by means of emptiness — emptiness is itself the gate of ultimate meaning. Hence Subhūti, within his stone chamber, contemplated arising-and-ceasing's own impermanence and entered emptiness; by means of emptiness he attained the path, and beheld the Buddha's own Dharma-body — this, it is suspected, is what the Tattvasiddhi sets forth.

Third, clarifying the gate of both existence and emptiness: this is precisely that same teaching's own clarification of the correct causal dharma's arising and ceasing as both existent and empty at once. If one receives this teaching, one is able to break through the one-sided clinging view of existence or non-existence, seeing the causal dharma as both existence and emptiness, arousing the true and untainted, seeing the truth by means of both existence and non-existence — existence and non-existence together are themselves the gate of ultimate meaning. This is Kātyāyana's own entry into the path through this gate, and hence he composed the Piṭaka Treatise, likewise setting forth this same gate.

Fourth, the gate of neither existence nor non-existence: this is precisely that same teaching's own clarification of the correct causal dharma's arising and ceasing as the principle of neither existence nor non-existence. If one receives this teaching, one is able to break through the deviant, clinging view at the extremes of existence and non-existence, seeing the causal dharma as neither existence nor non-existence, arousing the true and untainted, seeing the truth by means of neither existence nor non-existence — neither existence nor non-existence is itself the gate of ultimate meaning. Foul-Mouthed Chandaka entered the path by means of this gate, though no treatise setting this forth has yet been found. Some say the Vātsīputrīya Abhidharma sets forth this same sense: that treatise clarifies the self as residing within a fifth, inexpressible category — the self is not encompassed by the three time-periods, and hence is not "existent"; nor is it unconditioned, and hence is not "non-existent" either. This, it is feared, cannot yet be definitively adopted.

Second, clarifying the marks of the shared teaching's own four gates: these are the Mahāyāna's own gates — common-within-the-common, and common-within-the-particular — and cannot be taken up one-sidedly.

Discussing here the four gates in terms of common-within-the-common: the Tripiṭaka's own four gates discussed above all extinguish form to enter emptiness, like analyzing a real person into their six parts — head and the rest — and finding no "person" to be had, and hence it is named emptiness. The shared teaching's own four gates all take form itself as already empty, like observing a reflection in a mirror — the six parts are themselves already empty, without needing to be analyzed away to exhaustion before becoming empty. The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "The Buddha told the monks: contemplate emptiness as itself the folded cloth; contemplate the folded cloth as itself emptiness." This is the embodying gate, distinct from the analytical gate.

The Tripiṭaka teaching contemplates the emptiness of the person and attains the path; having attained the path through the emptiness of the person, it then further contemplates the emptiness of dharmas — the two objects, person and dharma, remaining unmerged. Here, within the shared teaching's own gate, the emptiness of the person is itself the emptiness of dharmas, and the emptiness of dharmas is itself the emptiness of the person, with no duality and no distinction between them. The Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says: "The nature of form is like the nature of self, and the nature of self is like the nature of form — both alike are like a magical illusion."

Some say: the Tripiṭaka teaching breaks through the conceived real nature, seeking the self in terms of real dharmas and finding it nowhere, this being simply the contemplation of the emptiness of nature; the Mahāyāna clarifies that the mark's own inherent nature is itself empty, requiring no further inspection before being recognized as empty. This, however, is only a partial statement. The Larger Perfection of Wisdom Sūtra says: "Emptiness of nature is constant — there is no time at which it is not empty of nature — clearly understanding every dharma to be like a magical illusion, like the moon in water, like a reflection in a mirror" — how could this possibly stop at the mere emptiness of the mark alone!

Judging the four gates simply in terms of this same magical illusion: the Treatise says, "All is real; all is not real; all is both real and not real; all is neither real nor not real." The Buddha, within these same four propositions, broadly teaches the siddhānta of ultimate meaning. As for "all is real" being the gate of existence: whether karma or fruit, good or evil dharmas, even nirvāṇa itself — all are a magical illusion. It is like a reflection within a mirror: though it has no real nature, it nonetheless possesses the illusory six parts, head and the rest — this is the gate of existence.

Since every dharma is thus like a magical illusion, and a magical illusion is, in itself, fundamentally without reality, being without reality it is empty — even nirvāṇa itself is likewise like a magical illusion, like a reflection within a mirror, provisionally possessing form and appearance, yet, when sought, nowhere to be found — this is the gate of emptiness.

Since every dharma is thus like an illusion, it is named "existent"; since the illusion cannot be found, it is named "empty." Like a reflection within a mirror — seen, and yet not to be seen; not to be seen, and yet seen — this is the gate of both emptiness and existence.

If even illusory existence cannot be found, how much less could illusory emptiness be found either? This, then, is the gate of setting both aside together. These are the shared teaching's own four gates of "at once empty." Though the three vehicles alike receive this same teaching, their faculties differ, and each enters the truth of ultimate meaning through one of these same four propositions — hence these same four propositions are, every one, named a gate. Hence Piṅgala's own commentary on the Treatise says: "The real mark of all dharmas is of three kinds." Here, it is the three vehicles' persons alike entering this same gate and seeing the truth of ultimate meaning that constitutes one single kind of this "at-once-empty."

Third, clarifying the distinct teaching's own four gates: if one uses the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā's own verse, "also named the provisional designation," to distinguish the four gates, this is exactly like the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa's own four propositions, carrying this same fourfold sense.

As for what is meant by "distinct": below, it differs from the Tripiṭaka and shared teachings, possessing seven distinguishing senses of its own, and hence is called "distinct"; above, it differs from the perfect teaching, in that it proceeds sequentially, stage by stage, into the middle, and hence, too, is called "distinct." This sense properly derives from the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, though there scattered across many separate passages; here, taking up the milk-and-the-rest illustration, the distinct teaching's own four gates are thereby revealed.

The text says: buddha-nature is like milk containing cream within it, like gold within a stone, like the jewel embedded in the strongman's own forehead — this is the gate of existence. Clarifying that the stone has no inherent gold-nature, and milk has no inherent cream-nature, sentient beings' own buddha-nature being likewise just like empty space; great final nirvāṇa itself empty, the city of Kapilavastu itself empty — this is the gate of emptiness. Again, it says: buddha-nature is both existent and non-existent. How is it existent? Because every sentient being, without exception, possesses it. How is it non-existent? Because it is only seen by means of skillful, wholesome means. Again, illustrated as milk both containing cream-nature and not containing cream-nature — this is the gate of both existence and non-existence. Clarifying that buddha-nature is precisely the middle way, doubly negating and setting aside both extremes at once; again, illustrated as milk neither containing cream-nature nor not containing cream-nature — this is the gate of neither emptiness nor existence.

The distinct teaching's bodhisattva, receiving the teaching of these same four gates, and, by means of them, seeing buddha-nature and abiding in great nirvāṇa — hence these same four propositions are precisely the distinct teaching's own four gates. Taken at face value, they are used to model the distinct teaching's own scriptural text; yet, at times, they may also serve as the perfect teaching's own gate — this sense is resolved further below, and so on.

As for the perfect teaching's own four gates: these gates clarify entering buddha-nature, the truth of ultimate meaning; taken at face value, their names and senses are the same as the distinct teaching's own gates, yet, examined closely, their own aim differs in many ways. Distinguishing their sameness and difference is treated in full detail further below, and so on.

Second, showing the contemplation that enters the gates: this is, in turn, treated in two parts: first, briefly showing where the gates lead; second, briefly showing the contemplation that enters the gates.

As for briefly showing where the gates lead: the teaching-gates able to lead through number, in total, sixteen, yet the principle they lead to is only the one-sided real or the perfect real — the first eight gates alike lead into the one-sided real, and the latter eight gates alike lead into the perfect real. Why is it that a single principle, the one-sided real, requires eight gates? The Tripiṭaka's own four gates are circuitous and cramped, named the clumsy method; the shared teaching's own four gates are the Mahāyāna's own, broad, direct, and skillful method. The gates differ in being skillful or clumsy, and hence the ones able to lead through number eight, though the real principle admits of no duality, and what is led to is only the one. It is like a walled city with gates opened on all four sides: the four indirect gates illustrate the Tripiṭaka teaching; the four direct gates illustrate the shared teaching. Indirect and direct being distinct, the ones able to lead through number eight, and yet the governor is one and the same, and what is led to is not two.

The distinct teaching's own four gates are one-sided and not yet fully merged; the perfect teaching's own four gates are perfect and, moreover, fully merged. One-sided and perfect being distinct, the ones able to lead through number eight, and yet the perfect real admits of no duality, and what is led to is only the one. It is like an imperial city with gates opened on all four sides: the four indirect gates illustrate the distinct teaching; the four direct gates illustrate the perfect teaching. Indirect and direct being distinct, the ones able to lead through number eight, and yet the emperor is unique, and what is led to is only the one, and so on.

Question: The Hīnayāna has only a single kind of fourfold gate — why does the Mahāyāna have three kinds of fourfold gates?

Answer: The Hīnayāna is shallow and near at hand, severing the fetters within a single lifetime — comparable to a small household. The Mahāyāna is deep and far-reaching, and, where it leads through, extends over a long course — comparable to a great household, which requires a thousand gates and ten thousand doors. How, then, could three sets of four gates possibly be considered too many?

Question: How is it that the Mahāyāna's own gate is where all three kinds of persons come to see the truth?

Answer: This gate's own correct intent leads through to the great, while, incidentally, it also leads through to the lesser — comparable to a royal state having both a common gate and a particular gate: the particular gate leads only the court officials through, while the common gate leads through to the court and the marketplace alike, and cannot be climbed by the common people alone and thereby called "the common people's gate." The Mahāyāna's own common gate is exactly the same: it correctly leads through to the real mark, while, incidentally, it also leads through to the real truth — hence the three vehicles' own reduction to ashes and severing of the fetters, too, proceeds by means of this very gate, yet it cannot, on that account, be said to lead through only to the one-sided real, and thereby be named "the Hīnayāna's own gate."

Briefly showing the contemplation that enters the gates: first, clarifying the Tripiṭaka teaching's own gate-of-existence contemplation. Within that gate of existence, both the one who follows through faith and the one who follows through the dharma are provided for — one who, upon hearing the teaching, is immediately awakened has a mind swift and sharp, and the method for attaining the path in such a case is difficult to demonstrate to others. Taking up, then, the gate of contemplation for the one who follows through the dharma, this is treated under ten senses: first, recognizing the object contemplated; second, the true and correct arousing of the aspiration; third, cultivating concentration and wisdom; fourth, thoroughly breaking through the dharma; fifth, skillfully knowing what is passable and what is blocked; sixth, skillfully applying the factors of the path; seventh, skillfully applying the antidote; eighth, skillfully knowing the sequence of stages; ninth, skillfully able to remain patient; tenth, not giving rise to attachment to the Dharma. The Abhidharma contains all ten of these senses, though its text is scattered here and there — a commentator wishing to practice the path, not knowing which passage to rely upon for cultivation, is left as confused as one at a fork in the road, unable to recognize which way to follow. Here, their essential sense is gathered together, spanning from beginning to end throughout, so that the contemplation for entering the path through the gate of existence may be recognized.

First, clarifying the object contemplated: this is precisely recognizing the correct causal dharma of ignorance, giving rise to every dharma. If one holds that the world's own dharmas of suffering and joy arise from the god Viṣṇu, or says they arise from some primal worldly nature, or from atomic particles — these are all births from a deviant causal dharma. If one says they are simply spontaneous, self-so, with no maker at all, this is birth with no causal dharma whatsoever. Birth with no causal dharma refutes the cause but not the effect; a deviant causal dharma likewise refutes the correct cause and effect — objects of this kind are, every one, not the correct causal object, and ought not to be contemplated. The Abhidharma's own enumeration posits the neighboring-void, the atomic particle; the Treatise refutes the neighboring-void — this risks being confused with the deviant "no-cause" position, and is likewise almost not the correct causal object. Why is this? Whether the neighboring-void exists or does not exist, neither escapes the two views, and remains simply an inverted view born of ignorance; being inverted, it is arising; being arising, it draws forth coarse and fine form alike. Ignorance's own inverted view, being itself unreal, how could the resultant fruit of suffering it draws forth possibly be fixed as either existing or not existing? Hence the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "Form, whether coarse or fine, contemplated altogether, is impermanent and without self." Being without self, it is without any master; whether coarse or fine, whether cause or condition, whether suffering or arising, whether the dependent or the direct — all alike are impermanent and without any master, all of it made by ignorance's own inverted view, exactly as broadly explained through the Abhidharma's own gate. This is named recognizing the object contemplated through the correct causal dharma, unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders' own deviant "no causal dharma."

Second, the true and correct arousing of the aspiration: having already recognized ignorance's own inverted view, flowing on through formations and consciousness, even to old age and death, like a spinning wheel of fire, one wishes to bring the accumulated karma to rest, correctly seeking nirvāṇa, arousing the mind of the two lesser vehicles, departing from views and craving, seeking neither fame nor profit, only breaking through every state of existence, not further increasing suffering and its arising, aspiring only toward the state with no residue remaining — this mind, pure, unmixed, and unfeigned, this mind true and correct, is named the correct arousing of the aspiration, unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders' or the heavenly demon's own aspiration.

Third, cultivating concentration and wisdom: the practitioner, having already vowed to seek release, relies upon the prātimokṣa and abides in cultivating the path — yet, offenses and obstructions scattering him in every direction, the mind cannot find peace, so how could the path possibly be attained? For this reason, one cultivates the four applications of mindfulness, studies the five methods of stilling the mind, and breaks through the five kinds of obstruction.

The five stilling-methods' own contemplation of phenomena is itself concentration; concentration giving rise to the applications of mindfulness is itself wisdom; wisdom and concentration held in equal balance is accordingly named "settling the mind." Again, concentration and wisdom brought into harmonious adjustment is accordingly named "stilling the mind." Without concentration and wisdom, or with only one of the two alone, or with concentration and wisdom unbalanced, none of these can be named a worthy person. Just as the worthy persons of the world are complete with both wisdom and virtue — wisdom leaving nothing unmastered, virtue leaving no fine conduct wanting — as with Xu You or Chao Fu, only then may they properly be called "worthy." One of much wisdom but little virtue is named a madman; one of much virtue but little wisdom is named a fool — madness and folly are, neither one, worthiness. "Worthy" means capable and worthy, and also means good and worthy: goodness gives rise to virtue, capability gives rise to wisdom, and, wisdom and virtue both complete, one is accordingly called a worthy person. The practitioner is exactly the same: cultivating the wisdom of the four applications of mindfulness, studying the concentration of the five stilling-methods, concentration and wisdom both complete.

How is it that mindfulness of the breath is complete with both concentration and wisdom? Restraining every scattering thought, counting from one to ten, knowing the breath and its count as impermanent, arising and ceasing, thought after thought never still — this is concentration and wisdom both present at once. Again, if one contemplates impurity, one ought to feel deep revulsion toward the foul and unclean; yet the very contemplation, and what it contemplates, are themselves impermanent, arising and ceasing, swiftly decaying and hollow, deceiving every sentient being — and, revulsion arising into aversion, one requires the concentration of loving-kindness to correspond with it, seeing another attain happiness, and likewise knowing that this very concentration and that very mark of happiness are themselves impermanent, arising and ceasing. In the contemplation of causes and conditions, contemplated horizontally across the four modes of birth, all alike are dharmas born of causes and conditions; contemplated vertically through the three realms, likewise all are dharmas born of causes and conditions. Whatever is born from conditions is, without exception, impermanent and without self. When any obstruction arises, one ought likewise to be mindful of the Buddha in this same way. This is named the five stilling-methods, each complete with the cultivation of both concentration and wisdom.

Having concentration, one is not driven mad; having wisdom, one is not foolish — settling the mind by means of these, as the very foundation for every practice, one brings forth warmth and summit, entering the true clarity of the forbearance of suffering, drawing near to the sages as a worthy one — the sense lies precisely here. Unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders, who, not even knowing how to drill and shake to draw forth the sap, can scarcely obtain even the raw juice, let alone cream or butter!

Fourth, thoroughly breaking through the dharma is accomplished: seeing existence, one attains the path, this being the settling of the mind through concentration and wisdom. If, after the five stilling-methods, one cultivates the shared applications of mindfulness, accompanied by the contemplation of impurity and the rest, thoroughly breaking through every dharma, both phenomena and principle are accomplished together. If, after the five stilling-methods, one cultivates solely the applications of mindfulness upon nature, wholly a contemplation of principle, one uses the wisdom of impermanence to thoroughly break through every view. The contemplation that breaks through views is exactly as clarified in the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā's own final two chapters.

When the Buddha first turned the wheel of the Dharma, he taught no other dharma but clarified impermanence alone, thereby thoroughly breaking through every non-Buddhist outsider's own view — whether of existence or non-existence, or even neither existence nor non-existence, whether of the soul or of the world, whether permanent or impermanent, and the rest — the sixty-two views, causing them to be purified. Now, Abhidharma masters, refuted by others, say: impermanence is the Hīnayāna's own teaching, permanence is the Mahāyāna's own teaching — permanence is able to refute impermanence, but impermanence cannot refute permanence. If one grasps the sense already given above, this ought not to be so. Before attaining the path, the clinging mind conceives of permanence, impermanence, both permanence and impermanence, and neither permanence nor impermanence, and the rest — mental objects meeting the mind-faculty give rise to every such view, and views, being born from conditions, are, without exception, impermanent. How, then, could the non-Buddhist outsiders possibly possess permanence, bliss, self, and purity? These same four inverted views are, every one, broken through by means of impermanence. Hence the five hundred monks said to Dhṛtarāṣṭra: "Simply cultivate impermanence, and one may thereby attain the path, and thereby attain penetration." As when the group of six monks taught others the Dharma, teaching solely impermanence. One should know that views, whether shallow or deep, are, every one, broken through by impermanence — unlike the old physician who relies solely on the remedy of milk.

Fifth, knowing what is passable and what is blocked: though what came before thoroughly broke through the faults of every view, its own virtue has not yet been seen. Fault is precisely obstruction; virtue is precisely passage. The eighty-eight fetters within the view of existence, even down to the eighty-eight fetters within the inexpressible view of neither existence nor non-existence — all, without exception, are born from conditions, and are named "obstruction," and, being obstruction, must be broken through. One must, further, recognize their own passage: namely, the path and cessation present within the view of existence, even down to the path and cessation present within the inexpressible view of neither existence nor non-existence — this same path and cessation, too, being born from causes and conditions, is named "passage" — and what need is there to break through passage? If one fails to recognize the various views, taking them to be the real matter and everything else as false speech, one's clinging view becomes karma, moistened by craving and drawing forth its own fruit — how could this fail to be obstruction? Being able, with respect to every view, to know each and every one as an impermanent, inverted view, one gives rise to no fixed attachment; without attachment there is no karma; without karma there is no fruit. One who has thus penetrated it possesses, thereby, the path and cessation — how could this fail to be named passage? Unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders, like an insect gnawing through wood, this same insect never knowing whether the shape it traces is a character or not.

Sixth, skillfully cultivating the factors of the path: how could this consist merely of recognizing what is passable and blocked, and nothing more? One ought to cultivate the factors of the path, advancing through every Dharma-gate. That is: contemplating this view of existence, even down to the inexpressible view, as, every one, depending upon form, defiled and impure — this is the application of mindfulness upon the body. If sensation possesses existence, even down to the inexpressible sensation, all depending upon the three kinds of sensation, and sensation itself being suffering — this is named the application of mindfulness upon sensation. Contemplating the perception and formation arisen from every view as, without exception, without self — this is named the application of mindfulness upon dharmas. Contemplating the mind of every view, thought after thought impermanent — this is named the application of mindfulness upon mind. Contemplating these same four contemplations is named attaining correct mindfulness within conditioned dharmas; having attained this mindfulness, the four inverted views are thereby subdued — this is named the applications of mindfulness. Diligently cultivating these four contemplations is named the four correct exertions. Cultivated within a settled mind, this is named the four bases of miraculous power. The five wholesome roots arising, hence named the five faculties. The five faculties increasing, warding off every evil dharma, hence named the five powers. Concentration and wisdom brought into balance, named the seven factors of awakening.

Walking securely along the path, this is named the eightfold correct path. Here, this is not discussed in terms of stage-specific factors of the path, but only in terms of the thirty-seven factors as generally cultivated. If a single stilling-method already yields all thirty-seven factors, every other stilling-method is exactly the same. Within the Abhidharma's own treatment of the truth of the path, this ought to be broadly distinguished, and so on.

These same thirty-seven factors are the dharma of practicing the path, and, on the way to the city of nirvāṇa, there are three gates: namely, the two practices under suffering constitute the liberation-gate of emptiness; the four each under arising and the path, together with the two under suffering, constitute the liberation-gate of the unconditioned; the four under cessation constitute the liberation-gate of the markless. Once the gate of nirvāṇa is opened, one thereby gains entry. Hence the Buddha, within the Subhadra Sūtra, decisively roars the lion's roar: "Only within my own Dharma is there the eightfold correct path — within the non-Buddhist outsiders' own dharma, there is not even a single path, how much less eight paths!"

Seventh, skillfully cultivating the antidote: if one is of sharp faculties, one enters directly; if one does not enter, one ought to cultivate the auxiliary path. Hence the Treatise says: the twelve dhyānas and the rest are, every one, dharmas that assist in opening the gate — when correct wisdom is weak, obstructions are able to arise, and cultivating the auxiliary path serves as their support. The Treatise says: "If craving and desire arise, one is taught to cultivate impurity, the liberations, and the rest; if one lacks mastery over the object, one is taught the bases of mastery; if one's object is not broad and pervasive, one is taught the totalities. If one has little merit, one is taught the immeasurable minds; if one wishes to rise beyond form, one is taught the four formless attainments." Dharmas of this kind are, every one, the auxiliary path, dharmas that assist in opening the gate — unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders, who, within the root dhyānas themselves, give rise to craving, views, and pride.

Eighth, skillfully recognizing the sequence of stages: though one cultivates correct and auxiliary dharmas of this kind, one must not, on this account, say "I am a sage" — presumptuously confusing the true with the merely resembling, failing to recognize the worthy from the sage. Here, clarifying the recognition of the distinction between the true and the resembling stages, one knows for oneself that one is not yet a sage, and overweening pride is thereby unable to arise. Unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders, who, clinging to precepts and clinging to views, conceive of the dharma of birth-and-death itself as nirvāṇa.

Ninth, skillfully cultivating patience: the particular applications of mindfulness, weak in their own power, are not yet fully penetrating. One then turns to cultivate the general applications of mindfulness, whether taken generally as one, as two, or as all four together — at this time, one ought to remain patient, so that the contemplation of the truths is accomplished, turning to enter the dharma of summit, the smoke of the path-to-come already rising. The Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Warmth, though tainted and conditioned, is nonetheless able to break through what is tainted and conditioned." "My own disciples possess it; the non-Buddhist outsiders do not." Again, if one remains patient, one thereby accomplishes the dharma of summit; the dharma of summit accomplished is named forbearance, arriving at the very brink — should one fail to remain patient, one falls back from this same brink. Hence it is said: falling back from the dharma of summit becomes the five heinous deeds; falling back from the dharma of warmth becomes the icchantika. For this reason, one must here skillfully remain patient amid every inward and outward obstruction, unlike the non-Buddhist outsiders, who are unable to remain patient before even the subtlest obstructing dharma.

Tenth, no attachment to the Dharma arising: having already, through what came before, brought forth the four wholesome roots, should attachment to the Dharma arise, though one does not fall back into the five heinous deeds or the icchantika, one still fails to enter the path of seeing the truths. This, then, is the threefold contracting of the contemplation, advancing to accomplish the higher forbearance; the supreme worldly dharma brings forth the true clarity of the forbearance of suffering, and, within sixteen mental instants, the first fruit is accomplished, or the leaping-over fruit is accomplished; or, further applying the contemplation, one severs the five lower and five higher fetters, accomplishing the state beyond further training. If one of sharp faculties applies the contemplation, one enters node by node; if one of dull faculties applies it, all ten senses are required in full. Though the Abhidharma explains this at length, it does not go beyond these same ten senses.

The five hundred arhats composed the Vibhāṣā, correctly setting forth attaining the path through the gate of existence — how, then, could this be called merely a skillful means for regulating the mind? All four gates, adjusted and applied, are equally able to attain the path; yet, should attachment arise, none of them attain the path at all. If one simply says that seeing existence attains the path while seeing emptiness does not, how would this differ from the non-Buddhist outsiders? Hence the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: "Without attaining prajñā's own skillful means, one falls into either existence or non-existence." Here, these same ten dharmas are taken as the skillful means, entering directly through the gate of the real, forever distinct from the non-Buddhist outsiders. This, then, is the contemplation that enters the real through the gate of existence. As for the remaining gates — of emptiness, of both emptiness and existence, of neither emptiness nor existence — their own contemplation entering the real, from beginning to end, in its skillful means, differs, respectively, from the gate of existence in each case. Yet all alike converge upon the one-sided real, severing the afflictions of the three realms, with no further difference at all. These same three gates, measured against the gate of existence, likewise each call for their own ten contemplations, largely the same with only minor differences, which may be grasped by the same sense — this shall not be recorded here in full detail, and so on.

Next, clarifying the shared teaching's own gate-of-existence contemplation: this, too, follows the same pattern of ten senses, here simply listed by name, and so on. It embodies and understands every dharma as, alike, a magical illusion. Though the three kinds of persons alike arouse the aspiration, there are, too, minor differences between them, and so on. A certain Mādhyamika commentator says: this refers to the Mahāyāna's own śrāvaka. Here, I say this is not so. The sūtra says, "Wishing to attain śrāvaka-hood or pratyekabuddha-hood, one ought to study prajñā." The Treatise says, "The śrāvaka's and the pratyekabuddha's own path of liberation, of nirvāṇa, are both alike obtained from prajñā." Neither the sūtra nor the treatise says these are identical — this is simply the commentator's own error. Though one knows that concentration and wisdom cannot themselves be found, the two dharmas that settle the mind, by means of the wisdom of magical illusion, thoroughly break through the four views, the sixty-two views, and every dharma whatsoever, knowing suffering and its arising, within this same magical illusion, to be named "obstruction," and knowing the path and cessation, within this same magical illusion, to be named "passage." By means of an ungraspable mind, one cultivates the thirty-seven factors; by means of what has nothing to be remedied, one studies every antidote, recognizing the ground of dry wisdom even up to the ground of buddhahood; the wisdom of magical illusion is neither moved by outer demons nor driven back by inner obstructions. Every dharma does not arise, and yet prajñā itself arises, without giving rise to any craving or attachment either, and one thereby enters the real; whether by wisdom or by severance, the forbearance of the dharma of no-generation, compared with what came before, is more skillful — this may be understood by the same pattern, and shall not be recorded here in full detail. The remaining three gates' own ten senses are largely the same with only minor differences, which may likewise be grasped by the same sense, and shall not be recorded in the text here either.

Next, clarifying the distinct teaching's own gate-of-existence contemplation: this, too, is treated under ten senses, and so on.

First, contemplating the object: this transcends the ordinary being's own four views and four gates, and is likewise not the two lesser vehicles' own four-gate dharma, nor the shared teaching's own four-gate dharma. The dharma of every one of these four gates, taken as an object, is not properly named "the real mark," being neither birth-and-death nor nirvāṇa; the tathāgatagarbha alone is properly named "wondrous being," possessing a truly real dharma. This same wondrous being serves as the very support upon which every dharma depends, every dharma issuing forth from this wondrous being — this is the object here contemplated.

Second, clarifying the arousing of the aspiration: the bodhisattva, deeply contemplating the real mark's own wondrous being, is not carried along by birth-and-death — the gold buried beneath grass and filth, the jewel embedded in the forehead lost in the struggle, poverty-stricken and forsaken — this is truly a matter for the deepest pity and sorrow. The bodhisattva, for this reason, arouses great compassion and the four universal vows. The Viśeṣacintibrahma-paripṛcchā Sūtra speaks of thirty-two kinds of great compassion. The Avataṃsaka Sūtra says: "Not for the sake of a single person, a single nation, or beings as numerous as motes of dust in a single realm, but for the sake of the sentient beings of the entire dharma-realm, is the aspiration for bodhi aroused." An aspiration aroused in this way possesses great power, like the lion's own roar. Having already aroused the aspiration, one settles the mind and advances in practice, cultivating whichever concentration and wisdom, as explained before, is appropriate to whatever time it may be — at such a time, one ought to cultivate such-and-such concentration; at such a time, one ought to cultivate such-and-such wisdom. Concentration cherished, wisdom spurred onward, settling the mind and cultivating the path, relying upon these same two dharmas and no other — this is the dharma of settling the mind. Turning, further, to the wisdom of wondrous being, one thoroughly breaks through every view of birth-and-death, the sixty-two and the rest, and their own dark obscuring of merit, accepting none of them at all. Thoroughly breaking through nirvāṇa as well, sinking into emptiness to seek realization is like a great tree that harbors no resentful bird. Within each and every dharma, one clearly recognizes passage and obstruction, as within the Himalayas, where both poisonous herbs and the king of medicinal herbs alike are found in abundance.

The bodhisattva must know: when such-and-such a mind arises, this is precisely the suffering and arising of the six destinies, named "obstruction"; when such-and-such a mind arises, this is precisely the two lesser vehicles' own path and cessation, named "passage." Again, when such-and-such a mind arises, this is the two lesser vehicles' own suffering and arising, named "obstruction"; when such-and-such a mind arises, this is the bodhisattva's own path and cessation, named "passage." When such-and-such a mind arises, this is named the bodhisattva's own suffering and arising; when such-and-such a mind arises, this is named the buddha's own path and cessation. Within suffering and arising, being able to know what is not the path, one thoroughly penetrates the buddha-path; being able to know the buddha-path, one recognizes where obstruction still arises, clearly and without any lingering hindrance — this is recognizing passage and obstruction.

As for skillfully cultivating the factors of the path: the thirty-seven factors are the bodhisattva's own jeweled-torch dhāraṇī. Breaking through the inverted applications of mindfulness, diligently practicing the settled mind, the five wholesome roots arise, able to dispel the five evils; concentration and wisdom brought into balance, one walks securely along the path. Departing from the ten marks, this is named the samādhi of emptiness. Further, not even seeing any mark of emptiness itself, this is named the samādhi of the markless. Making no vow or seeking at all, this is named the samādhi of the unconditioned. This is the dharma of practicing the path, drawing near the gate of nirvāṇa. As for cultivating the various dharmas' own gate of antidote — namely, permanence versus impermanence, constancy versus inconstancy, ease versus unease, the conditioned versus the unconditioned, severance versus non-severance, nirvāṇa versus non-nirvāṇa, the superior versus the non-superior — constantly delighting in examining every one of these antidote-gates assists in opening the real mark.

From the very beginning — the ten faiths, the ten abidings, the ten practices, the ten dedications, the ten grounds, equal enlightenment, and wondrous enlightenment — one knows, without any error, the depth or shallowness of every one of these sagely stages, never once claiming, presumptuously, that one has already reached the very highest stage; inwardly, one remains patient before the two thieves of good and evil discursive thought contending against and complying with one; outwardly, one remains patient before the eight winds — and, by the very power of this patience, one is not swayed or overturned. Should one realize a dharma of mere resemblance, no attachment to the Dharma arises, and one does not fall — attachment to the Dharma arising at the very summit is named "attachment to the Dharma," and, being free of this attachment, one thereby enters the bodhisattva's own stage. Breaking through the weeds of ignorance's own defilement, the golden treasury of wondrous being is thereby manifested, buddha-nature is seen, and one enters the real mark. This is cultivating and entering the real contemplation through the gate of existence.

As for the remaining gates — of emptiness, of both emptiness and existence, of neither emptiness nor existence — their own contemplation entering the real likewise follows this same pattern of ten senses. Though each gate's own skillful means differs, all alike converge upon the perfect real, the principle admitting of no difference at all; these same three gates' own contemplation method, measured against the gate of existence, may thereby be understood, and shall not be recorded here in full detail, and so on.