Three Thousand in a Single Thought

The Great Calming and Contemplation, Fascicle Five, Upper Part
Spoken by the Great Master Zhiyi of Tiantai, of the Sui dynasty
Recorded by his disciple Guanding

Topic seven, the actual practice of calming-and-contemplation: the six topics that came before relied on the sūtras to open up sublime understanding; here, relying on that sublime understanding, correct practice itself is established. Like oil and wick depending on each other, like the eye and the foot supplying one another's need. Once practice and understanding are both diligently pursued, the three obstructions and four māras arise all at once, contending in confusion; dense torpor and great agitation obscure and disturb the very brightness of samādhi. One must neither follow them nor fear them: following them drives a person toward the evil destinies; fearing them obstructs the cultivation of the true Dharma. One should use contemplation to contemplate torpor, so that torpor itself becomes clarity; use calming to calm agitation, so that agitation itself becomes stillness. It is like a hog rubbing itself against a golden mountain, or every stream flowing into the sea; like firewood only feeding the flame higher, or wind only fanning the hunt's own pursuit. This vajra-like contemplation cuts through the battle-ranks of affliction; these firm and sturdy feet cross the wilderness of birth-and-death. Wisdom is purified through practice, and practice advances through wisdom; each illuminates, moistens, guides, and reaches the other, interwoven and burnished bright. One body, two hands, mutually rubbing and polishing each other. This is not only opening up and clearing away one's own inward obstructions, advancing one's own path — it is also mastering the sūtras and treatises in full, so as to open, outwardly, what has never yet been heard. Perfecting oneself and perfecting others, benefiting both at once — who else could be called the treasure of the nation, the teacher of humankind, if not one who does this? And further, learning the Buddha's own compassion, free of any stinginess or reluctance, teaching calming-and-contemplation and bestowing it upon others — this is opening the gate and emptying the treasury, giving away the wish-fulfilling jewel itself. This jewel radiates light and rains down treasure, illuminating darkness and supplying want, brightening the night and rescuing poverty. It races on two wheels to reach the distance, spreads two wings to soar aloft. Its lustrous jade, its gleaming jasper — how could this be put into words? Grinding one's own bones at the Fragrant City, casting one's own body from the Snow Mountains — how could even these ever repay such a debt? A swift horse, seeing merely the shadow of the whip, arrives at once on the correct road.

But the foolish and the dull, the poison already sunk deep within them, having lost their own original mind — since they do not believe, the teaching cannot take hold in them; lacking the hook of having heard the Dharma, listening brings them no understanding at all. Lacking the eye of wisdom, they cannot distinguish the true from the false; their whole body numb as with leprosy, they cannot take a single step forward, neither perceiving nor knowing. Persons who have accumulated grave offenses — why trouble to teach them at all? Should some world-weary person indulge instead in some inferior vehicle, clinging to its outer branches and leaves, growing dog-like intimate with its lesser tasks — revering a monkey as though it were Indra, honoring a shard of tile as though it were a bright pearl — how could a person so benighted possibly discuss the path at all? And there is, further, a certain kind of meditation teacher who, failing to grasp another's own capacity, teaches only the milk-remedy indiscriminately to everyone — embodying mind treading upon mind, blending and seeking awakening, whether dissolved or understood, all held to be one and the same track. Obstacles and difficulties run in ten thousand directions, and such a teacher, confused, fails to recognize any of them; the moment some unusual sign appears, he judges it at once to be the path itself. Being himself no fit vessel for the Dharma, and further lacking any means to instruct another, both the blind teacher and his lame disciple fall together, stumbling about in the dark of night — a matter deeply to be pitied. This calming-and-contemplation should not be taught to any of the persons described above.

Calming-and-contemplation is, of itself, exalted for the exalted, and base for the base. Calming-and-contemplation opens out into ten objects: first, the aggregates, entries, and elements; second, affliction; third, illness; fourth, the marks of karma; fifth, demonic affairs; sixth, meditative states; seventh, views; eighth, overweening pride; ninth, the two lesser vehicles; tenth, the bodhisattva. These ten objects, in general, are all able to cover over and obstruct. The aggregates come first for two reasons: first, because they are already present; second, in accordance with the sūtras. The Larger Sūtra says: "The śrāvaka practices the path by means of the four foundations of mindfulness; the bodhisattva first contemplates form, and so on up through the wisdom of all modes." Every chapter follows this same pattern, and so this order does not contradict the sūtras. Moreover, when a practitioner takes on a body at all, who does not already have the heavy burden of the aggregates, entries, and elements right there before them? This is why they are contemplated first; whatever unusual signs arise afterward are simply given their own separate place in the sequence. The five aggregates, joined with the four elements — if one does not carefully observe them, one fails even to notice their own restless movement, like a boat with its cabin closed, drifting with the current, unaware of how swiftly it races along; only by turning against the current does one first become aware of that swift flow at all. Once the fruit of the aggregates is contemplated, the cause of affliction is thereby stirred into motion — hence affliction is discussed next, after the five aggregates, in terms of the fourfold division. The four elements are the body's own sickness; the three poisons are the mind's own sickness — and because these correspond so closely, one fails to notice them within one's own feeling. Now, contemplating both the elements and the divisions of affliction together, striking against the very channels and organs, the four serpents rise up out of balance, and illness results. Karma of boundless kinds cannot be reckoned in number, and scattered wholesome acts are too weak to stir it into motion; but now, cultivating calming-and-contemplation with vigor, illness is no longer able to weaken it, and the wheel of birth-and-death is set turning. Sometimes it is stirred because wholesome sprouts arise; sometimes because evil breaks apart; sometimes because wholesome deeds show themselves in the reward to be received; sometimes because evil comes seeking its own reckoning. This is why karma is discussed next, after illness. Because evil is thus stirred, evil is about to be extinguished; because wholesomeness is thus stirred, wholesomeness is about to arise — and māra rushes out into view at just this point, creating every kind of obstacle and difficulty, sometimes even destroying the path itself. This is why māra is discussed next, after karma. Once demonic affairs are surpassed, merit arises: whether from a habituated cause in the past, or from the power of present practice, the various dhyānas compete to arise, some tainted, some pure, some deviant, some upright. This is why meditative states are discussed next, after māra. Dhyāna has its own branch of contemplation, from which deviant wisdom can arise; observation of the Dharma runs to excess, wrongly giving rise to every kind of inversion, deviant eloquence growing fierce and sharp. This is why views are discussed next, after meditative states. Should one recognize a view as wrong and still its false attachment, so that craving and aversion, sharp and dull alike, no longer arise at all — one without wisdom may then suppose this to be the realization of nirvāṇa; even the Hīnayāna has its own mistaken reckoning of the four dhyānas as the four fruits, and the Mahāyāna, too, has cases of māra coming to bestow a false prediction of buddhahood. All of these are persons of overweening pride, not yet having attained, and yet supposing they have attained. This is why overweening pride is discussed next, after views. Once views and pride have both been stilled, the slight habituated tendencies of a former life, on account of this very stillness, come to arise — Śāriputra's own abandonment of the bodhisattva path over the matter of his eye is exactly such a case. The Larger Sūtra says: "Bodhisattvas numerous as the sands of the Ganges give rise to the great resolve, and yet one or two among them, entering the bodhisattva's own stage, very often fall back into the two lesser vehicles." This is why the two lesser vehicles are discussed next, after overweening pride. Should one, remembering one's own original vow, thereby avoid falling into mere emptiness, the bodhisattva's own state, on the various paths of expedient means, then arises. The Larger Sūtra says: "There are bodhisattvas who, not long after practicing the six pāramitās, on hearing some profound teaching, at once give rise to slander, and fall into hell." This concerns only the bodhisattva of the six pāramitās; even at the expedient stage of the shared teaching, this same slander can still occur, though not once one has entered the real path; and the distinct teaching's own beginner, already knowing that some profound teaching exists, does not slander it at all. All of these belong to the provisional wholesome roots, and this is exactly why the bodhisattva's own state is discussed last, after the two lesser vehicles.

These ten objects begin with the ordinary being's own present retribution and end with the sage's own expedient means. The single object of the aggregates, entries, and elements is always, of itself, already present, whether or not it has yet arisen into some further manifestation, and so it can always be taken as an object of contemplation; but the remaining nine objects can only be contemplated once they have actually arisen — if they have not arisen, what is there left to contemplate? Moreover, the first eight of these objects lie far from the correct path, and require deep and careful guarding before one can return to the correct track; the last two objects lie near to the correct path, and, once one reaches this stage, there is no need to worry over lacking an object of contemplation at all — even a slight cultivation is already correct. Furthermore, should one fail to understand how these objects mutually arise from one another, a great net of doubt will be raised, as though standing at a fork in the road with no idea which way to go; but should one hear of this beforehand, then however strange or unpredictable their arising may be, the mind remains as much at ease as empty space itself.

Mutual arising among the objects has ten aspects: sequential or non-sequential, mixed or unmixed, complete or incomplete, deliberate or spontaneous, successful or unsuccessful, beneficial or harmful, difficult or easy to arouse, lasting or fleeting, and recurring or non-recurring — together with the three obstructions and four māras, making nine pairs and one further single item. As for the sequential: this has three senses, namely dharma, cultivation, and arising. "Dharma" means the dharma of shallow and deep laid out in sequence. "Cultivation" means either having already studied this sequence in a former life, or cultivating it in sequence in this present life. "Arising" means arising in sequence, in accordance with cultivation carried out in sequence. The non-sequential likewise has three senses — dharma, cultivation, and arising — where "arising" is not fixed: the bodhisattva's own object might arise first, and the aggregates only afterward; though not in sequence, the full count of ten is nonetheless still complete. As for "cultivation": should the four elements fall out of balance, illness is cultivated first; should the fourfold division of affliction grow excessive, affliction is cultivated first — in every case, whichever is strongest is cultivated first. As for "dharma": the eye, ear, nose, and tongue, the aggregates, entries, and elements, are all, every one, already a gate of quiescence, already the dharma-realm itself — why, then, would one need to set this aside in favor of something else? This is given in the Ratnakūṭa Sūtra. One should know that outside the dharma-realm, there is no further dharma left over to serve as any sequence at all. That affliction is itself the dharma-realm: as the Sūtra on the Practice of Non-Action says, "Craving and desire are themselves the path." The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "Practicing what is not the path, one penetrates through to the buddha-path itself." Since the buddha-path is already penetrated through in this way, there is no further sequence left at all. That illness is itself the dharma-realm: the Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "My own illness now is neither real nor existent; the illness of sentient beings, too, is neither real nor existent." By this, one regulates oneself, and also delivers sentient beings — Vimalakīrti's own feigned illness in his one-room dwelling, and the Buddha's own final illness between the twin śāla trees, are exactly this same sense. That the marks of karma are themselves the dharma-realm: karma is itself the aggregate of formations. The Lotus Sūtra says, "Fully realizing the mark of offense and merit, illuminating throughout the ten directions, the subtle and sublime pure Dharma-body, complete with the thirty-two marks." Realizing that karma arises from conditions, and, lacking any self-mastery, is thus empty — this very karma is itself able to break through karma. Should sentient beings need to be delivered by means of some karma, manifesting every kind of karmic act, one establishes karma by means of karma itself; between karma and no-karma, bondage and liberation, neither can ultimately be found. Manifesting through the universal gate, illuminating both bondage and liberation at once, is exactly why this is named "fully realizing" — how could this be no more than fit to be a teacher of the Vaipulya rite alone? That demonic affairs are themselves the dharma-realm: the Śūraṅgama Sūtra says, "The realm of māra, just as it is, and the realm of the Buddha, just as it is, are a single suchness, with no second suchness at all." Within the very bounds of reality itself, not even the Buddha is to be found — how much less any māra? Should any māra still appear, it is itself the very medicine smeared on one's own sandal, fit to be mounted and ridden upon. That meditative states are themselves the dharma-realm: "able to contemplate the very nature of mind — this is named the supreme samādhi," which is precisely the Śūraṅgama itself; neither obscured nor disordered, one enters the king-samādhi, and every samādhi whatsoever enters into it entirely. That views are themselves the dharma-realm: the Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "By means of a deviant mark, one enters the correct mark, cultivating the thirty-seven factors of enlightenment while remaining unmoved with regard to every view." There is, further, cultivating the thirty-seven factors while stirred, while unstirred, both stirred and unstirred, and neither stirred nor unstirred — taking view itself as the gate, taking view itself as one's own attendant. That pride is itself the dharma-realm: this, too, is simply affliction. Contemplating pride as without pride, pride as great pride, and neither pride nor no-pride, one accomplishes the secret treasury and enters the great nirvāṇa. That the two lesser vehicles are themselves the dharma-realm: "seeing only emptiness, and not seeing the not-empty" — while "the wise see both emptiness and the not-empty," and "definitively clarifying the śrāvaka's own dharma, this is the king of every sūtra; having heard it, one reflects on it directly, and thereby draws near the unsurpassed path." That the bodhisattva's own state is itself the dharma-realm: even the very depths of evil, of birth-and-death, even the humblest of the lesser vehicles, are already the dharma-realm — how much more, then, could the bodhisattva's own dharma fail to be the buddha-path? And the bodhisattva's own provisional expedient means, being provisional and yet real, and also neither provisional nor real, accomplishes the secret treasury and enters the great nirvāṇa. Each and every one of these dharmas is thus already the dharma-realm itself — this is the mark of the non-sequential dharma.

As for mixed or unmixed: once one object has arisen, and then a further object arises, each remaining distinct and clear in turn, this is "unmixed." Should the aggregates just now have arisen, and affliction rise up as well before that has yet subsided, followed by karma, then māra, meditative states, views, pride, and the rest, crossing and overlapping in confusion, this is "mixed" arising. Though mixed, it never exceeds these ten kinds. As for complete or incomplete: the full count of ten is named "complete"; anything short of nine is named "incomplete." Sequential or non-sequential, and mixed or unmixed, are both discussed in terms of complete or incomplete as well — and there is, further, complete or incomplete overall, and complete or incomplete in particular: the full count of ten is complete overall; the ten not fully accounted for is incomplete overall; missing from the count of nine is incomplete in particular; nine fully accounted for is complete in particular. There is, further, complete or incomplete horizontally, and complete or incomplete vertically: for instance, giving rise to the four dhyānas up through neither-perception-nor-non-perception is vertically complete, while stopping at the sphere of nothingness is vertically incomplete; giving rise to the six penetrations and clarities, the eight forms of liberation, and the like, is horizontally complete, while giving rise to only the seven forms of liberation is horizontally incomplete. Giving rise to the first dhyāna through the fourth is vertically complete; stopping at the third is vertically incomplete. The nine grades of the first dhyāna, complete, is vertically complete; stopping at the eighth grade is vertically incomplete. A single grade complete with all five branches is horizontally complete; stopping at four branches is horizontally incomplete. The rest may be understood by the same pattern. As for cultivated or uncultivated: deliberately cultivating the aggregates, entries, and elements, so that they open into understanding, is "cultivated arising"; without any deliberate intent, the aggregates, entries, and elements arising of themselves, penetrating through to form and mind directly, is "uncultivated arising" — and the same holds, on through the bodhisattva's own object as well. This should form a fourfold proposition as its root, each proposition then woven out into thirty-six further propositions, exactly as explained below in the discussion of the object of affliction. As for successful or unsuccessful: should one object arise and reach ultimate accomplishment, and then, once that accomplishment has passed, a further object arise and likewise reach ultimate accomplishment in turn — or should one kind arise only fitfully, now rising, now vanishing, not only deficient in its own full count but also obscure and unclear in each and every one of its particulars. The "complete or incomplete" discussed above concerned only the bare count; here, the very substance itself is discussed, distinguishing beginning from end. As for beneficial or harmful: sometimes an evil dharma arises that proves of great benefit to calming-and-contemplation, its clarity and stillness only deepening further; sometimes a wholesome dharma arises that proves of great harm to calming-and-contemplation, damaging its own stillness and illumination. Sometimes stillness increases while illumination is damaged; sometimes stillness is damaged while illumination increases; sometimes both increase together; sometimes both are damaged together. As for difficult or easy to arouse: sometimes an evil dharma is difficult or easy to arouse; sometimes a wholesome dharma is difficult or easy to arouse; sometimes both are difficult; sometimes both are easy. As for lasting or fleeting: a given object may of itself linger on for a very long time without departing; or a given object may arise and depart in the very same instant. As for recurring or non-recurring: a given object may, of itself, recur once, or twice, or even many, many times over; or a given object may arise just once and then cease entirely, never arising again thereafter. Differences of this kind, of every variety, must be well understood in their own sense, so that one does not mistakenly accept or reject them at random. In every case, however, all of this should be investigated by means of calming-and-contemplation itself, so that one is never brought to a standstill by any of it.

As for the three obstructions and four māras: the Samantabhadra Contemplation Sūtra says, "The people of Jambudvīpa are heavy with the three obstructions." The aggregates, entries, and elements, together with illness, are the obstruction of retribution; affliction, views, and pride are the obstruction of affliction; karma, māra, meditative states, the two lesser vehicles, and the bodhisattva's own state are the obstruction of karma. These obstruct calming-and-contemplation from becoming clear and still, blocking the path to bodhi, and prevent the practitioner from passing through to the five grades of disciples and the purification of the six faculties — hence they are named "obstructions." As for the four māras: the aggregates, entries, and elements are precisely the māra of the aggregates; karma, meditative states, the two lesser vehicles, and the bodhisattva's own state are all the aggregate of formations, and so are likewise named the māra of the aggregates. Affliction, views, pride, and the like are the māra of affliction. Illness is the very cause of death, and is named the māra of death. Demonic affairs themselves are the māra of the celestial king. "Māra" means "the one who seizes": breaking contemplation is named "seizing life"; breaking calming is named "seizing the body." Māra is also named "grinding falsehood": grinding down contemplation into falsehood plunges one into darkness; grinding down calming into falsehood scatters one into dissipation — hence the name māra.

Question: for what reason do these objects arise from one another in this way? Answer: this is entirely on account of causal conditions spanning two lifetimes. If one formerly held the seed of gradual contemplation, and now receives the rain of actual cultivation, this arises in sequence; if one formerly held the seed of sudden contemplation, this arises out of sequence; if one formerly held an indeterminate seed, this arises mixed. If one's former cultivation was complete in its own count, this arises complete; if incomplete, this arises incomplete. If one has formerly already realized something, its present arising reaches accomplishment; if one merely cultivated it formerly without realization, its present arising does not reach accomplishment. If the former cause is strong, this arises now even without further cultivation; if the present condition is strong, this arises only once cultivation is applied. Where the former cause and the present condition are both skillfully applied, turning and dedicating themselves toward the higher path, this present arising proves beneficial; where the former cause and condition were themselves mixed with poison, this instead brings about harm. Where the place from which the arising springs is weak, it does not last long; where that place is strong, it does last. From coarse and fine states of stability, on through the four dhyānas, strength and weakness are judged by the same pattern, degree by degree. Wholesome states are easy to arouse where the hindering barrier is light; wholesome states are difficult to arouse where the hindering barrier is heavy. Evil states are difficult to arouse where the faculty is sharp; evil states are easy to arouse where the faculty is dull. Where evil is about to be extinguished and takes its leave, and wholesomeness is about to arise and makes itself known — this is a single occurrence, never recurring. Where wholesomeness is about to be extinguished and seeks rescue, and evil is about to rise up and seeks admission — this recurs, and recurs, and recurs, and recurs again. In all of this, oral instruction is essential, weighed and measured by wisdom itself; one should not follow one's own mind alone, mistakenly judging right and wrong. Be careful with this! Apply diligence to this! Take this seriously!

A private query asks: if the dharmas are as numerous as motes of dust or grains of sand, how could the objects possibly be fixed at exactly ten? Answer: it is like the single earth, able to give rise to sprouts and shoots of every kind — the count is set neither too broad nor too narrow, so that the sense may be easily understood; hence it is said to be exactly ten. Question: how are these ten objects understood generally and how understood specifically? Answer: from the very moment one takes on a body, there is no case in which the body is not already present, and the sūtras, in discussing contemplation, mostly begin from form — hence the aggregates are taken first, whether as the root, the cause, the affliction, or the master of the aggregates, as the wholesome aggregates, or the aggregates as cause, or the aggregates taken individually, and so on. As for affliction discussed generally: views and pride are themselves alike affliction; the aggregates and illness are the fruit of affliction; karma is the cause of affliction; meditative states are karma without motion, karma itself being the very function of affliction; māra governs the entire desire realm, and is thus the very master of affliction; the two lesser vehicles and the bodhisattva belong to affliction taken in a more particular sense. As for illness discussed generally: the aggregates, entries, and elements are themselves the very root of illness; affliction, views, pride, and the rest are themselves the sickness of affliction. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says, "My own illness now arises entirely from the deluded thoughts and every affliction of former lives." Karma, too, is a sickness — the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says, "The king is now gravely ill," referring precisely to the five heinous crimes as sickness. Māra, too, is able to cause sickness; the three calamities are an outward affliction, while shortness of breath and excessive joy are an inward affliction. The joy present in dhyāna is itself already a sickness. The two lesser vehicles and the bodhisattva are themselves the sickness of emptiness — though this sickness of emptiness, too, is itself empty. As for karma discussed generally: the aggregates, entries, and elements are the fruit of karma; affliction, views, and pride are the very root of karma; illness is the retribution of karma; māra is māra's own karma; meditative states are karma without motion; the two lesser vehicles and the bodhisattva possess uncontaminated karma. As for māra discussed generally: the aggregates, entries, and elements are themselves the māra of the aggregates; affliction, views, and pride are themselves the māra of affliction; illness is the māra of death; māra itself is the māra of the celestial king — everything else belongs to the māra of the aggregate of formations. As for meditative states discussed generally: dhyāna is, of itself, its own object; the aggregates, entries, affliction, views, pride, and karma are, every one, gathered among the ten great grounds, belonging to the mental factor of concentration; māra is the fruit of the concentration of the "not-yet-arrived" stage, likewise belonging to the mental factor of concentration; the two lesser vehicles and the bodhisattva belong to pure dhyāna. This may also be gathered under three levels of concentration: the highest concentration gathers in the bodhisattva and the two lesser vehicles; the middle and lower two gather in the remaining eight objects. As for views discussed generally: the aggregates and entries are themselves the view of a self and the view of a sentient being; affliction is complete with the five views; illness is the view of a life-span, the view of a life-force; karma, meditative states, and the rest are the view of an agent, and also the view of clinging to precept and vow; māra belongs to the categories of the one who compels action, the one who compels reception, the one who compels arising, and the like. Further, birth-and-death belongs to the extreme view; pride belongs to the view of a self; the two lesser vehicles and the expedient-stage bodhisattva all belong to the crooked view. As for pride discussed generally: the aggregates and entries belong to the pride of self; affliction belongs to the pride of pride upon pride; illness belongs to the pride of considering oneself no worse than others; karma belongs to arrogant pride, since it is on account of arrogance that karma is created; māra belongs to great pride; meditative states belong to arrogant pride; views, too, belong to great pride; the two lesser vehicles and the bodhisattva belong to overweening pride. As for the two lesser vehicles discussed generally: the four foundations of mindfulness and the dharma of the Four Noble Truths gather in the remaining nine objects. As for the bodhisattva's own state discussed generally: the four universal vows gather in the remaining nine objects.

Question: if the object, the dharma, and the name are all held in common, is the practitioner, too, held in common? Answer: the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says, "How could one not yet have given rise to the resolve and still be called a bodhisattva?" The persons belonging to the first nine objects, too, may generally be called bodhisattvas. Where the two lesser vehicles are held in common, there are, in fact, four kinds of śrāvaka: the overweening-pride śrāvaka gathers in the persons of the lower eight objects; the buddha-path śrāvaka gathers in the bodhisattva's own persons. Question: is impermanence, too, held in common? Answer: the Ratnagotravibhāga says, "The bodhisattva, dwelling within the uncontaminated realm, still has an inversion of impermanence." Question: is being contaminated, too, held in common? Answer: the sense of contamination is indeed held in common, though the sense of existence differs slightly. Question: is partial-truth, too, held in common? Answer: the sense of partiality is held in common, though the sense of the real differs. Question: the sense of "held in common" may thus be grasped — what, then, of the specific sense? Answer: the ten objects, each different from the next, is exactly the specific sense. There is, further, what is both held in common and specific at once: the aggregates are both the very root from which the body is received and the very starting point of contemplative wisdom, and are therefore given the specific place of coming first — this one object alone is thus both held in common and specific at once. The remaining nine objects each take their own name from the particular manifestation that gives rise to them, and so can only be either held in common or specific, never both held in common and specific together. If this is so, affliction, too, is the very root of every dharma, originally treated in order to cure delusion, and is also the very starting point of contemplation; illness of the body, the four elements, too, is the very root of phenomenal existence, originally treated in order to cure illness, and is also a starting point of contemplation — why, then, could these not also be held to be both held in common and specific at once? Answer: if the body arises on account of affliction, this belongs to a former life; if the affliction of the present life exists on account of the body, illness does not constantly arise from it, and so its standing as a root is weak. None of the sūtras or treatises take illness as the very starting point of contemplation, and this is exactly why it is not held to be both held in common and specific at once. What is neither held in common nor specific is, every one, inconceivable: one aggregate is every aggregate, neither one nor every one at all.

Question: since the nine remaining objects arise and are each given their own separate name accordingly, should understanding arising with regard to the aggregates and entries likewise be given some separate name of its own? Answer: when understanding arises with regard to the aggregates, this is not something cleanly separate — it still belongs to the aggregates, entries, and elements themselves. Should one cling to this understanding, it then belongs to views; should craving or aversion arise on the basis of this understanding, it belongs to affliction; should it bring on illness or invite māra, each is judged specifically according to what actually occurs. Should understanding arise brightly clear, with none of the marks of the nine objects present at all, this is simply the natural disposition of calming-and-contemplation itself — one may then speak only of "held in common" or "specific," never of "both held in common and specific" together. Question: are the ten objects each cleanly distinct from one another? Answer: the four foundations of mindfulness are the specific mark of the aggregates; contemplating emptiness amid a crowd is the specific mark of the entries; no-self is the specific mark of the elements; the five methods for stilling the mind are the specific mark of affliction; the eight forms of mindfulness are the specific mark of illness; the ten wholesome actions are the specific mark of karma; the five kinds of binding are the specific mark of māra; the six wondrous gates are the specific mark of meditative states; the branches of the path are the specific mark of views; impermanence, suffering, and emptiness are the specific mark of pride; the Four Noble Truths and the twelve links of dependent origination are the specific mark of the two lesser vehicles; the six pāramitās are the specific mark of the bodhisattva. Question: the five aggregates together are themselves the object — is there some further contemplation to be found apart from form and mind? Answer: the wisdom of the inconceivable object is itself already the aggregates as contemplation. One may also distinguish further: the unwholesome and indeterminate aggregates are the object; the wholesome five aggregates are the contemplation. Once contemplation has grown fully ripe, with no evil and no indeterminate state remaining, only the wholesome aggregates are left; the wholesome aggregates are transformed into the aggregates of expedient means, the aggregates of expedient means are transformed into the uncontaminated aggregates, and the uncontaminated aggregates are transformed into the aggregates of Dharma-nature, named the aggregates beyond all comparison. Is this not, then, a contemplation found apart from the aggregates after all? If even the Hīnayāna already holds this much, how much more the inconceivable teaching? Question: if the aggregates are transformed into contemplation, should the aggregates of retribution, too, be transformed? Answer: the Larger Sūtra says, "Because form is pure, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are pure, and prajñā, too, is pure." The Lotus Sūtra says, "The complexion grows fresh and bright, the six faculties pure and clear." This is exactly that same sense. Though the aggregates are transformed, the object of contemplation remains, just as it is.

Question: how do the ten objects relate to the five aspects of samādhi? Answer: the five aspects judge dhyāna itself; the ten arisings concern the objects. Here, these should be reconciled: if a given arising, sequential or not, advances all the way to the very end, this is the aspect of advancement; sustained steadily up through the ninth stage, this is the aspect of abiding; deliberately maintained with careful restraint, this is the aspect of protection; lost the very instant it arises, this is the aspect of decline. The aspect of penetration may be understood by the same pattern. Should the five aspects be applied to each and every object in turn, this may be grasped by the same reasoning, without needing further separate explanation. Yet the five aspects and the ten objects are both, alike, matters of phenomenal mark, and may well share this sense in common with one another; the six identities and the depth of practice across the stages of the ten grounds, however, cannot be classed together in the same way. Question: the nature of thought is itself apart from all else; the nature of its object, too, is apart from all else — if there is neither object nor thought, and no fixed number or measure to speak of, how, then, could the ten dharma-realms possibly be contained within it at all? Answer: this is inconceivable — without any fixed mark, and yet marked all the same, the contemplative wisdom of it is vividly present. Others explain this through comparison to rare and marvelous events: Mount Sumeru contained within a mustard seed, and the mustard seed containing Mount Sumeru in turn; fire emerging from a lotus flower; a person able to cross the ocean on foot — understanding the inconceivable by way of the extraordinary. Here, the explanation is different: no mind, no thought, no capacity to act, no capacity to arrive — the inconceivable principle is itself already superior to any mere extraordinary event. Question: do the ten dharma-realms mutually contain one another as cause, or as fruit? Answer: they mutually contain one another as both at once, though the fruit remains hidden and difficult to reveal, while the cause is generally accessible and easy to know. It is like the maiden Compassion-Child, who, from within the very realm of hell, gave rise to the buddha-mind. It is like a bodhisattva who has not yet received a prediction of buddhahood belittling one who has already received it — should this not give rise to regret, there is no prospect of ever being released from that offense. To cite further examples: ordinary beings and sages alike are complete with the five aggregates, and yet one cannot say that a sage's own aggregates are the same as an ordinary being's aggregates. The Buddha, too, is complete with the five eyes — how could one possibly explain the buddha-eye in terms of the mere karmic reward of a human or a heavenly being? The Buddha is complete with five practices: the practice of illness is the four evil realms; the practice of the infant is the human and heavenly realms; the practice of the sage is the dharma-realm of the two lesser vehicles; the practice of the pure life is the dharma-realm of the bodhisattva; the practice of the heavens is the dharma-realm of the Buddha. Question: a single thought complete with the ten dharma-realms — is this something deliberately constructed, or is it simply so, effortlessly? Answer: the nature of dharmas is simply so of itself, not something brought about by deliberate construction — just as a single mote of dust already contains within it every direction, in all ten of its aspects.

First, contemplating the object of the aggregates, entries, and elements: these are the five aggregates, the twelve entries, and the eighteen elements. "Aggregate" (陰) means shading over wholesome dharmas — this takes its name in terms of cause. "Aggregate" also means accumulation, birth-and-death piling up layer upon layer — this takes its name in terms of fruit. "Entry" (入) means passing into, also named the gate of the wheel. "Element" (界) means a boundary distinguishing one thing from another, also named the division of nature. The Vibhāṣā clarifies the opening and closing of these three categories. If one is confused about the mind, mind is opened out into four aggregates, with form as the one remaining aggregate. If one is confused about form, form is opened out into ten entries and a small portion of the eleventh, with mind as the one mental entry and a small portion of the dharma-entry. If one is confused about both, all eighteen elements are opened out in full. The Ābhidharmika masters say: "The five aggregates arise simultaneously — consciousness is the sovereign mind, and the remaining four aggregates are its mental factors." This clarifies the sense in terms of the gate of existence, and so sovereign and factor mutually support one another, arising together at the same instant. The treatise-masters say: "Consciousness first discriminates, then feeling receives and takes it in, perception grasps its features, formations arise in accord or opposition, and form is felt on account of formation." This clarifies the sense in terms of the gate of emptiness, and so each arises from the other in sequence. Considered in terms of what generates and what is generated, moving from the subtle to the coarse, consciousness comes first; considered in terms of actual practice, moving from the coarse to the subtle, form comes first. In neither case should the mental factors be separated from the sovereign mind itself. Discussed in terms of the four foundations of mindfulness, the sovereign mind is placed in the middle — this is simply a matter of convenience in exposition. There are, further, nine distinct kinds to be distinguished: the form and mind of a single lifetime, named the aggregates of karmic retribution; ordinary, undistinguished perception and feeling, the indeterminate aggregates; the aggregates in which view or craving arises, the two defiled aggregates; the aggregates that stir bodily and verbal karma, the two aggregates, wholesome and unwholesome; the aggregates that transform and manifest, the aggregates of skillful craft; the aggregates of the person with the five wholesome roots, the aggregates of expedient means; and the aggregates of one who has realized the four fruits, the uncontaminated aggregates. Every kind of this sort, in every case, has its source in the mind.

The Sūtra on the Right Mindfulness of the Dharma says: "It is like the painter's own hand, painting the five colors — black, blue, red, yellow, white, and pure white." The painter's hand is a simile for the mind; the color black is a simile for the aggregates of the hell-realm; blue for the hungry ghosts; red for animals; yellow for the asuras; white for humans; and pure white for the heavens. These six kinds of aggregate remain confined within the three realms alone. The Avataṃsaka Sūtra, for its part, says: "The mind is like a skillful painter, painting every kind of aggregate." Within the three realms and beyond them, throughout every world without exception, there is nothing that is not created by the mind. Even the form and mind of the mundane world can scarcely be fathomed to their very limit — how much more, then, the world-transcending, which the ordinary mind could never possibly know? If even the ordinary eye, clouded as it is, cannot see what lies close at hand, how could it possibly see what lies far away? Spanning vast and boundless kalpas, one has still not glimpsed even a single corner within the three realms — how much less, then, the very borders that lie beyond them? It is like a thirsty deer chasing a mirage, or a mad dog snapping at thunder — how could either possibly attain what it seeks? Even should one come to understand the Hīnayāna, this is, in the end, still not the great path. Hence the Great Collection Sūtra says: "Those who hold the view of permanence say that cessation happens by different, successive thoughts; those who hold the view of annihilation say that cessation happens all in a single thought." Both fall into one of the two extremes, and neither accords with the middle way. And how much more so once the Buddha has passed from the world, when later generations grow ever duller of faculty, clinging to mere names and stirring up contention, each side declaring the other wrong, all of them falling into deviant views. Hence Nāgārjuna refutes the five aggregates as one or different, as simultaneous or sequential — all of them, like a mirage, an illusion, an echo, a phantom, ultimately unfindable. How much less, then, should one still cling to whether the sovereign mind and its mental factors arise simultaneously or in sequence? And yet every aggregate, within the three realms and beyond them alike, arises entirely from the mind. The Buddha told the monks: "One dharma gathers in every dharma — this is precisely the mind." The Treatise says: "Throughout the whole of the mundane world, there is only name and form; wishing to contemplate reality as it truly is, one need only contemplate name and form." That the mind is the very root of delusion — this is exactly the sense of it. Wishing to observe this closely, one must strike at its very root, like applying moxibustion directly to the site of the illness. Here, then, one should set aside the fathom in favor of the foot, set aside the foot in favor of the inch: setting aside the four aggregates of form and the rest, one contemplates the aggregate of consciousness alone. The aggregate of consciousness is precisely the mind itself.

Contemplating the mind is complete with ten modes: first, contemplating the inconceivable object; second, giving rise to the mind of compassion; third, skillfully settling calming-and-contemplation; fourth, comprehensively breaking through every dharma; fifth, distinguishing blockage from passage; sixth, cultivating the branches of the path; seventh, auxiliary remedies to open the way; eighth, knowing one's own stage; ninth, able to bear with adversity; tenth, free of attachment to the Dharma. Once one has directly reached the sublime object oneself, one gives rise to the vow of compassion for others; next, one carries out the practice that fulfills that vow, and once vow and practice are both skillfully joined, there is nothing left unbroken by this comprehensive breaking-through; in the very midst of this comprehensive breaking-through, one precisely distinguishes blockage from passage, so that the branches of the path may advance; one further applies auxiliary remedies to open the way; the stages along the path, one's own and others', are both fully known; one bears with honor and disgrace, inward and outward, with patience; and one clings to no attachment, not even to the Dharma of the middle way itself. Only thus is one able to enter the bodhisattva's own stage with speed. It is like Viśvakarman constructing the finest of halls: neither too sparse nor too dense, its every joint fitted precisely to the width of a single thread, towering aloft, standing against the very heavens — no clumsy craftsman could ever plan or measure such a thing. It is also like a skilled painter sketching out the outline, rendering the image true to life, its very bone-structure vivid and alive, its breath of life seeming to leap and move — how could a mere colorist, filling in paint, ever accomplish such a thing? These ten modes of contemplation, gathered together both horizontally and vertically, are subtle, sublime, and exquisitely refined: at the outset, they discern the true from the false among the objects; in the middle, they add the auxiliary to the principal; and at the close, they bear with adversity, free of any attachment at all. The intent is complete, the method skillful, comprehensive and thorough in every particular, laying down the very compass and square for the beginner, sending the practitioner on the way to the ocean of omniscience itself — this is not something a meditation teacher realized only in silent seclusion, or a Dharma-master who has merely memorized the texts, could ever come to know. It is precisely here that lies what the Tathāgata sought with such diligence across accumulated kalpas, what he awakened to so sublimely at the very seat of enlightenment, what Śāriputra himself begged three times to hear, and what was taught three times over, through both the Dharma and its similes together.

First, contemplating the mind as the inconceivable object: this object is difficult to explain in words, so the conceivable object shall first be clarified, so that the inconceivable object may thereby become easier to reveal. As for the conceivable dharma: even the Hīnayāna teaches that the mind gives rise to every dharma, meaning the causation of the six destinies, the wheel turning through the three realms. Should one abandon the ordinary and long for the sagely, casting off the lower to emerge into the higher, extinguishing the body and annihilating the intellect — this is the Four Noble Truths of the conditioned, and is itself already a conceivable dharma. The Mahāyāna, too, clarifies that the mind gives rise to every dharma, meaning the ten dharma-realms. Should one contemplate the mind as existing, existing as both good and evil — evil, in turn, having three grades, the causation of the three evil destinies; good having three grades, the causation of the asuras, humans, and heavenly beings. Contemplating these six grades as impermanent, arising and ceasing; and the very mind that contemplates them, too, never remaining fixed even for a single thought — and further, that both the contemplating mind and what is contemplated alike arise from conditions, and what arises from conditions is itself already empty — this is the dharma of causation belonging to the two lesser vehicles. Should one, contemplating this emptiness and this existence, fall into one of the two extremes, sinking into emptiness or stuck fast in existence, and thereupon give rise to great compassion, entering the provisional to transform beings — with, in reality, no body, and yet provisionally taking on a body; with, in reality, no emptiness, and yet provisionally speaking of emptiness in order to guide and transform others — this is the dharma of causation belonging to the bodhisattva. Contemplating this very dharma, both the one who delivers and the one delivered, as themselves, every one, the dharma of the true mark of the middle way, ultimately pure — who, then, is good, and who is evil? Who has, and who lacks? Who is delivered, and who is not? Every dharma is, entirely, just so — this is the dharma of causation belonging to the Buddha. These ten dharmas, spread out in shallow and deep succession, all issue from the mind alike. Though this is already what the Mahāyāna's own immeasurable Four Noble Truths gathers in, it remains, even so, a conceivable object — not what is contemplated by the calming-and-contemplation discussed here.

As for the inconceivable object: as the Avataṃsaka Sūtra says, "The mind is like a skillful painter, creating every kind of aggregate; throughout every world, there is nothing that is not created by the mind." "Every kind of aggregate" means precisely the five aggregates belonging to each of the ten dharma-realms named above. "Dharma-realm" has three senses: the ten realms themselves are what depends, and the dharma-realm is what is depended upon; combining what depends and what is depended upon, one speaks of "the ten dharma-realms." Further, these ten dharmas each have their own separate cause and their own separate fruit, never mingled or confused with one another, and this too is why they are called "the ten dharma-realms." Further still, each and every one of these ten dharmas is itself, in its own very substance, already the dharma-realm — hence they are also spoken of as "the ten realms of the moment." The ten dharma-realms are generally called, alike, "the aggregates, entries, and elements," and yet, in reality, they are not the same at all: the three evil destinies have the contaminated, evil aggregates, entries, and elements; the three wholesome destinies have the contaminated, wholesome aggregates, entries, and elements; the two lesser vehicles have the uncontaminated aggregates, entries, and elements; the bodhisattva has aggregates, entries, and elements that are both contaminated and uncontaminated at once; and the Buddha has aggregates, entries, and elements that are neither contaminated nor uncontaminated. The Treatise says: "That which is unsurpassed among dharmas is nirvāṇa" — meaning precisely the dharma that is neither contaminated nor uncontaminated. The Sūtra of Immeasurable Meanings says that "the Buddha has none of the great aggregates, entries, and elements," meaning that he lacks the first nine kinds of aggregates, entries, and elements; and where it is said that he does have them, this means he has the aggregates, entries, and elements of nirvāṇa's own eternal abiding. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "By means of the extinguishing of impermanent form, one obtains eternal form; feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness are exactly the same." The eternal and the blissful piling up together is exactly the sense of "accumulation"; compassion covering over and sheltering is exactly the sense of "shading." Because these ten kinds of aggregates and elements each differ from the rest, this is exactly why they are named "the world of the five aggregates."

Gathering together the five aggregates is generally called "sentient being," and yet sentient beings differ from one another: gathering the aggregates of the three evil destinies together makes a suffering, guilty sentient being; gathering the aggregates of humans and heavenly beings together makes a pleasure-receiving sentient being; gathering the uncontaminated aggregates together makes a true and holy sentient being; gathering the aggregates of compassion together makes a great being, a bodhisattva sentient being; gathering the aggregates of eternal abiding together makes the most honored and ultimate sentient being. The Treatise says: "The unsurpassed among sentient beings is the Buddha" — how, then, could this be the same as an ordinary, base being? The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "At the kalala stage the name differs; and so on, up through old age, the name differs again. At the sprout stage the name differs; and so on, up through the fruit, the name differs again." This concerns only the differences across ten stages of a single lifetime — how much more, then, must sentient beings across the ten dharma-realms differ from one another? Hence this is named "the world of sentient beings." As for the ten kinds of dwelling-places, generally called "the world of lands": the hell-realm dwells upon red-hot iron; animals dwell on land, in water, and in the air; asuras dwell at the ocean's edge or at its very bottom; humans dwell upon the earth; heavenly beings dwell within their own palaces. The bodhisattva of the six pāramitās dwells upon the earth, the same as humans. The shared-teaching bodhisattva whose affliction is not yet exhausted dwells together with humans and heavenly beings; once affliction is exhausted, they dwell within a land of expedient means. The distinct- and perfect-teaching bodhisattva whose affliction is not yet exhausted dwells together with humans, heavenly beings, and those in the land of expedient means alike; once affliction is exhausted, they dwell within the land of true reward. The Tathāgata dwells within the land of eternally quiescent light. The Sūtra of Benevolent Kings says: "The three grades of worthy and the ten grades of sage dwell within a land of karmic reward; the Buddha alone dwells within the pure land." Each land differing from the rest in this way is exactly why this is named "the world of lands."

These thirty kinds of world, in every case, are created by the mind. Further, each of these ten kinds of five aggregates is, each and every one, complete with ten dharmas, namely: such is the mark, such is the nature, such is the substance, such is the power, such is the activity, such is the cause, such is the condition, such is the effect, such is the retribution, and such is the ultimate consistency of root and branch. First a general explanation shall be given, and afterward an explanation category by category. As for the general explanation: "mark" is what is grasped from the outside, observed and thereby distinguished. The Treatise says: "It is called 'mark' because it is easily known — just as the marks of water and fire differ from one another, and so are easily told apart." Just as a person's own facial complexion already carries every sign of good or ill fortune, so that observing the outward mark reveals what lies within: in the past, when Sun Quan's and Liu Bei's own marks were plain to see, while Cao Cao's own mark remained hidden, a physiognomist cried aloud in great lamentation, "The realm shall be divided into three, and its people ground down in suffering!" If one says there is a mark, the unperceiving fail to notice it; if one says there is no mark, the diviner sees straight through to it all the same. One should follow the good physiognomist, and trust that a person's own outward face already carries every mark within it. The mind, too, is exactly the same, complete with every mark. In an ordinary sentient being, this mark remains hidden; in Maitreya, this mark is already plain to see; the Tathāgata, knowing this well, thereby gives predictions of buddhahood to those near and far alike. One who observes poorly does not believe the mind is complete with every mark; one should instead follow one who observes things as they truly are, and trust that the mind is complete with every mark.

As for "such is the nature": nature is what is grasped from within, and has, in general, three senses. First, "unchanging" is named nature — the Sūtra on the Practice of Non-Action calls this "the unmoving nature," nature being precisely the sense of the unchanging. Second, nature is named "the division of nature," the sense of a distinct category, each division differing from the next, and none of them able to be changed into another. Third, nature is the real nature, the real nature being precisely the nature of principle — the utmost real, beyond any further error, simply another name for the buddha-nature. The unmoving nature supports emptiness; the seed-nature supports the provisional; the real nature supports the middle. Here, it is clarified that the inward nature cannot be changed — just as the nature of fire already exists within bamboo, though it cannot be seen, one cannot say it does not exist; struck by flint against dry grass, it burns everything without exception. The mind, too, is exactly the same, complete with the nature of every one of the five aggregates — though it cannot be seen, one cannot say it does not exist; observed with the eye of wisdom, it is seen to be complete with every nature. It is laughable how people of the world judge a perfect sūtra on the basis of some partial hearing of it alone. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra clarifies that "the Buddha knows sentient beings possess the buddha-nature," and this is judged to describe the utmost permanence; the Lotus Sūtra clarifies that "the Buddha knows that every dharma has such-and-such a nature," and this is judged to describe impermanence instead. How could a lesser knowledge possibly be judged permanent, and a greater knowledge impermanent? Moreover, the Lotus Sūtra says: "The Buddha knows every dharma is, alike, of a single kind, a single nature" — this statement, too, is no less brief, so why should it be judged to describe impermanence? There is, further, a certain master who judges the Lotus Sūtra's own "ten suchnesses" so that the first five suchnesses belong to the ordinary being, as the provisional, while the last five belong to the sage, as the real. Following this master's own judgment, the ordinary being would then have no reality at all, and could never come to attain sagehood; and the sage would have no provisional means at all, and would thus fail to be truly and universally aware. This is simply an arbitrary, self-appointed claim, one that slanders the Buddha and disparages the ordinary being alike. There is, further, the Nirvāṇa Sūtra's clarification that "every sentient being, without exception, possesses the buddha-nature," said to be permanent; while the Vimalakīrti Sūtra's statement that "every sentient being is itself already the mark of bodhi" is judged to describe impermanence. If the buddha-nature and the mark of bodhi were genuinely different from each other, then one might indeed be permanent and the other impermanent; but if they are not different, this judgment is a grave error indeed. Just as a physiognomist, seeing the mark and the nature of a king, knows both alike that he will ascend to the throne — why, then, should the buddha-nature and the mark of bodhi be judged any differently from one another?

As for "such is the substance": that which serves as the governing basis is named "substance" — the aggregates of all ten dharma-realms alike take form and mind together as their own substance and basis. As for "such is the power": this is the capacity to bear and function. Like a mighty strongman in the king's service, possessed of countless skills — when ill, he is said to have none of them; once his illness is cured, they are put to use once more. The mind, too, is exactly the same, complete with every power; on account of the sickness of affliction, it is unable to exert itself, but observed as it truly is, it is complete with every power. As for "such is the activity": exerting and establishing is named "activity." Apart from the mind, there is nothing further that acts at all — hence it is known that the mind is complete with every activity. As for "such is the cause": bringing about a fruit is named "cause," also named "karma." The karma of all ten dharma-realms arises from the mind alone; wherever mind is present, every karma is thereby already complete — hence this is named "such is the cause." As for "such is the condition": "condition" means that by which something comes about; whatever assists karma is, in every case, this same sense of condition. Ignorance, craving, and the like are able to moisten karma into growth — this, too, is the mind serving as condition. As for "such is the effect": attaining and obtaining is named "effect." The habituated cause continues on from what came before, and the habituated effect is what is obtained afterward — hence this is said to be "such is the effect." As for "such is the retribution": requiting a cause is named "retribution." The habituated cause and the habituated effect together are generally named "cause," drawing forth the retribution of a future life — this retribution is what requites that cause. As for "such is the ultimate consistency of root and branch": the mark serves as the root, and the retribution as the branch. Root and branch alike arise entirely from conditions; arising from conditions, they are thus empty — root and branch both being empty is what makes them "consistent" in terms of emptiness. Further, the mark has only a name, and the retribution, too, has only a name, both alike provisionally established — this is what makes them "consistent" in terms of the provisional name. Further, root and branch mutually signify one another: seeing the initial mark signifies the later retribution; observing the later retribution, one knows the initial mark — just as seeing generosity, one knows there is wealth, and seeing wealth, one knows there was generosity, the beginning and the end each present within the other — this is discussing their "consistency" in terms of the provisional. Further, the mark is without mark, markless and yet marked, neither marked nor unmarked; the retribution is without retribution, without retribution and yet retribution, neither retribution nor without retribution — each and every one entering into the very bounds of reality as it truly is — this is discussing their "consistency" in terms of the middle.

Second, explanation by category: gathering the ten dharmas into four categories. For the three evil destinies: expressing suffering is the mark; fixed in the accumulation of evil is the nature; form and mind broken and crushed is the substance; climbing the mountain of blades and entering the cauldron is the power; giving rise to the ten unwholesome acts is the activity; contaminated evil karma is the cause; craving, grasping, and the rest are the condition; the fruit of habituated evil is the effect; the three evil destinies are the retribution; and delusion running through both root and branch alike is their consistency. For the three wholesome destinies: expressing bliss is the mark; fixed in the accumulation of good is the nature; form and mind rising and emerging is the substance; pleasant feeling is the power; giving rise to the five precepts and the ten wholesome actions is the activity; unblemished karma is the cause; wholesome craving and grasping are the condition; the fruit of habituated good is the effect; existence among humans and heavenly beings is the retribution; and this should be discussed as their consistency in terms of the provisional name, with beginning and end each present in the other. For the two lesser vehicles: expressing nirvāṇa is the mark; liberation is the nature; the five aggregates of the Dharma-body are the substance; freedom from bondage is the power; the branches of the path are the activity; uncontaminated practice of wisdom is the cause; the practice of practice is the condition; the four fruits are the effect; and since no further existence is sown in the field of future birth, there is no retribution at all. For the category of bodhisattva and Buddha: the conditioning cause is the mark; the illuminating cause is the nature; the correct cause is the substance; the four universal vows are the power; the six pāramitās and the ten thousand practices are the activity; the adornment of wisdom is the cause; the adornment of merit is the condition; the three kinds of bodhi are the effect; and the great nirvāṇa is the retribution. Cause and condition run both forward and in reverse: following the course of birth-and-death, contaminated karma is the cause, and craving and grasping are the condition; reversing the course of birth-and-death, uncontaminated correct wisdom is the cause, and the practice of practice is the condition, both together diminishing birth and breaking through delusion. Following the course of birth-and-death beyond the three realms, uncontaminated wisdom is likewise the cause, and ignorance and the rest are the condition; reversing that course, the wisdom of the middle way is the cause, and the ten thousand practices are the condition, both together diminishing the birth-and-death of mutable transformation. Cause and condition being thus, the forward and reverse course of the rest may be understood by the same pattern. Following the śrāvaka's own account, there are only nine suchnesses, lacking the tenth; following the Mahāyāna's own doctrine of the three buddha-bodies, the Buddha does possess a reward-body; following the sense in which affliction is exhausted entirely, there is no further retribution at all. Nine suchnesses or ten — this may be reconciled and understood with careful consideration.

The world of sentient beings, since it is only a provisional name without any substance of its own, is simply distinguished by gathering together real dharmas, provisionally established. This means: the mark, nature, substance, power, and ultimate consistency of a sentient being of the evil destinies; the mark, nature, substance, power, and ultimate consistency of a sentient being of the wholesome destinies; the mark, nature, substance, power, and ultimate consistency of an uncontaminated sentient being; and the mark, nature, substance, power, and ultimate consistency of the bodhisattva- and buddha-dharma-realms — each may be understood by the same pattern. The world of lands, too, is complete with these same ten dharmas: the mark, nature, substance, and power of an evil land; and, likewise, of a wholesome land, an uncontaminated land, and the land of buddhas and bodhisattvas.

Now, a single mind is complete with the ten dharma-realms, and each single dharma-realm is, in turn, complete with all ten dharma-realms, yielding a hundred dharma-realms; each one of these hundred realms is complete with all thirty kinds of world, and so the hundred dharma-realms are thereby complete with three thousand kinds of world. These three thousand lie within a single moment of thought. If there is no mind at all, then that is simply so; but the moment there is mind, however slight, it is at once complete with these three thousand. Nor should one say that the single mind comes first and every dharma comes after; nor should one say that every dharma comes first and the single mind comes after. It is like the eight marks that carry a thing through change: if the thing existed before the marks, it would not actually be carried through change by them; if the marks existed before the thing, they too would not actually carry it through change. Neither "before" nor "after" will do — one can only say that the thing is discussed in terms of the marks that carry it through change, and that the marks that carry it through change are discussed in terms of the thing itself. The mind, too, is now exactly the same: if all dharmas were said to be generated from the single mind, this would be a vertical relation; if the mind were said to contain every dharma all at the same instant, this would be a horizontal relation. Neither the vertical nor the horizontal will do — one can only say that the mind is itself every dharma, and every dharma is itself the mind. Hence it is neither vertical nor horizontal, neither one nor different, so profound and sublime that it defies every measure, not something known by ordinary consciousness, not something spoken by ordinary speech — and this is exactly why it is named "the inconceivable object." The meaning lies precisely here.

Question: since the mind arises only in dependence on conditions, does the mind alone possess the three thousand dharmas? Do the conditions alone possess them? Do both together possess them? Or are they possessed apart from both? If the mind alone possesses them, then the mind's own arising would need no conditions at all; if the conditions alone possess them, then the conditions' own possession of them would have nothing to do with the mind; if both together possess them, then before they came together, neither would possess them individually — how, then, could they possess them once combined? If they are possessed apart from both, then, being apart from both mind and condition, how could the mind suddenly possess them at all? Since not even one of these four propositions can be sustained, how could the three thousand dharmas possibly be possessed at all? Answer: the masters of the Dilun tradition say: "Every instance of understanding and delusion, of the real and the false, relies upon and is sustained by the Dharma-nature. The Dharma-nature sustains both the real and the false; the real and the false depend upon the Dharma-nature." The Compendium of the Mahāyāna says: "The Dharma-nature is neither defiled by delusion nor purified by the real, and so the Dharma-nature is not itself what sustains. What is called the 'sustaining basis' is the ālayavijñāna itself — an unsubmerged, ever-present ignorance that holds and sustains every seed." Following the Dilun masters, then, the mind alone possesses every dharma; following the Compendium's own master, then, the conditions alone possess every dharma. These two masters, however, each rest their claim on only one side of the matter. If the Dharma-nature itself gives rise to every dharma, then the Dharma-nature is neither mind nor condition; and if, being neither mind, it can still give rise to every dharma through the mind, then, being neither condition either, it ought equally to give rise to every dharma through conditions as well — how, then, could one claim, one-sidedly, that the Dharma-nature alone is what sustains both the real and the false? And if one says the Dharma-nature itself is not the sustaining basis, and the ālayavijñāna is instead the sustaining basis, then, apart from the Dharma-nature, there would be some separate ālayavijñāna serving as the sustaining basis, having nothing to do with the Dharma-nature at all. But if the Dharma-nature is not, in fact, apart from the ālayavijñāna, then the ālayavijñāna's own sustaining is itself already the Dharma-nature's own sustaining — so how, then, could one claim, one-sidedly, that the ālayavijñāna alone is what sustains? This, moreover, contradicts the sūtra, which says: "Neither within, nor without, nor in between the two, nor ever constantly existing of itself." It further contradicts Nāgārjuna, who says: "No dharma arises from itself, nor from another, nor from both together, nor without any cause at all."

Examining this further by way of a simile: does a dream depend on the mind? Does it depend on sleep? Does it arise because the dharma of sleep is joined with the mind? Or does it arise apart from both mind and sleep? If a dream depended on the mind alone, then one ought to dream even while not asleep. If it depended on sleep alone, then a dead person, being like one asleep, ought to dream as well. If a dream arose from the joining of sleep and mind together, how could a sleeping person ever have a moment without a dream? And further, if sleep and mind each already had a dream of their own individually, would joining them together really produce yet another dream? And if, individually, neither had any dream at all, their joining ought not to produce one either. If a dream arose apart from both mind and sleep, then empty space itself, apart from both, ought to dream constantly as well. Since not even these four propositions can account for a dream, how, then, could one see every event of one's life within a dream while asleep at all? The mind is a simile for the Dharma-nature; sleep is a simile for the ālayavijñāna. How, then, could one one-sidedly claim that the Dharma-nature or the ālayavijñāna alone gives rise to every dharma? One should know that the mind cannot be found through any of these four propositions, and the three thousand dharmas, too, cannot be found through them. Since the three thousand dharmas cannot be found to arise horizontally through any of these four propositions, should they instead be said to arise from a single thought of mind ceasing? But the ceasing of mind cannot even give rise to a single dharma — how, then, could it give rise to three thousand dharmas? If the three thousand dharmas are said to arise from a mind both ceasing and not ceasing at once, then "both ceasing and not ceasing" contradicts itself in its own nature — like water and fire, neither of which can stand together with the other — so how could this give rise to the three thousand dharmas? If it is said that a mind neither ceasing nor not ceasing gives rise to the three thousand dharmas, then, being neither ceasing nor not ceasing, it is neither an agent nor an object of action at all — how, then, could it give rise, as agent, to the three thousand dharmas as object? Sought both vertically and horizontally, the three thousand dharmas cannot be found; sought as neither vertical nor horizontal, the three thousand dharmas likewise cannot be found. The path of words is cut off; the sphere of the mind's own activity is extinguished — hence this is named "the inconceivable object." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Birth-of-birth cannot be spoken; birth-of-non-birth cannot be spoken; non-birth-of-birth cannot be spoken; non-birth-of-non-birth cannot be spoken." This is exactly that same sense. One should know that within the ultimate truth, not even a single dharma can be found — how much less, then, three thousand dharmas? And yet within the conventional truth, a single mind is already complete with immeasurable dharmas — how much more, then, these three thousand?

As when the Buddha said to the woman Guṇavatī: "Does ignorance exist within?" "No." "Does it exist without?" "No." "Does it exist both within and without?" "No." "Does it exist neither within nor without?" "No." The Buddha said: "It exists exactly in this way." Nāgārjuna says: "It arises neither from itself, nor from another, nor from both together, nor without any cause at all." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "Birth-of-birth cannot be spoken, and so on through non-birth-of-non-birth, which cannot be spoken either — yet, on account of causes and conditions, it may indeed be spoken of after all," meaning precisely the causal conditions of the four siddhāntas. Though the four propositions are, in themselves, profoundly quiescent, compassion and pity move one, within what has neither name nor mark, to speak provisionally by means of name and mark all the same.

Sometimes, by way of the worldly siddhānta, one teaches that mind is complete with every dharma, and the listener rejoices — as when it is said, "There is no separate dharma within the three realms; it is the single mind alone that creates them," this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that conditions give rise to every dharma, and the listener rejoices — as when it is said, "The five desires cause a person to fall into the evil destinies; a good spiritual friend is a great causal condition, meaning precisely being guided and transformed so as to come to see the Buddha," this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that cause and condition together give rise to every dharma, and the listener rejoices — as when it is said, "Mercury mixed with true gold is able to coat every kind of image," this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that every dharma arises apart from both cause and condition, and the listener rejoices — as when it is said, "The twelve links of dependent origination are made neither by the Buddha, nor by heavenly beings, humans, or asuras — their nature is simply so of itself," this being exactly such a text. These four propositions are precisely the worldly siddhānta, teaching that mind gives rise to the three thousand, every dharma.

What, then, is the siddhānta for the individual? As when it is said, "The Buddhadharma is like the ocean — only faith is able to enter it." "Faith is the very source of the path, the mother of merit — every wholesome dharma is born from it." "Simply give rise to the mind of the threefold bodhi, and this alone is leaving home, complete with every restraining precept" — hearing this, the listener gives rise to faith, this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that conditions give rise to every dharma, as when it is said, "Should one fail to encounter a buddha, one would fall, for immeasurable kalpas, into the suffering of hell; but on account of beholding the Buddha, one attains a faith rooted in nothing else at all, like sandalwood growing out of a poisonous eranda shrub" — hearing this, the listener gives rise to faith. Sometimes one teaches that the combination of both gives rise to every dharma, as when it is said, "Once the water of the mind grows clear and still, the mark of the pearl appears of itself; by the power of compassion's own wholesome root, a matter of this kind is seen" — hearing this, the listener gives rise to faith, this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that every dharma arises apart from both, as when it is said, "Not through inward contemplation is this wisdom attained, nor even through contemplation both inward and outward; should there be any attachment or dwelling at all, then not even the brahmacārin Śreṇika's own small measure of faith could be attained — how much less, then, leaving the deviant to enter the correct?" — hearing this, the listener gives rise to faith, this being exactly such a text. These are the four propositions of the siddhānta for the individual, teaching that mind gives rise to the three thousand, every dharma.

What, then, is the siddhānta of the antidote? Teaching that mind cures every evil, as when it is said, "One who attains a single, unified mind — every deviance is thereby extinguished," this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that conditions cure every evil, as when it is said, "Having attained the hearing of the unsurpassed great wisdom's own brightness, the mind grows fixed as the earth itself, unshakable," this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that the union of cause and condition cures every evil, as when it is said, "One portion arises from one's own reflection; one portion is obtained from one's own teacher," this being exactly such a text. Sometimes one teaches that curing arises apart from both, as when it is said, "When I sat at the very seat of enlightenment, I obtained not a single dharma at all; an empty fist deceives a small child, and by this very means, every being is drawn across," this being exactly such a text. This, then, is the siddhānta of the antidote, mind breaking through every evil. What, then, is the siddhānta of ultimate meaning? Mind attaining the direct seeing of principle, as when it is said, "The mind opens, understanding is resolved, and one attains the path all at once." Sometimes one teaches that conditions are able to see principle, as when it is said, "Hearing it for but a moment, one at once attains ultimate, complete bodhi." Sometimes one teaches that the union of cause and condition attains the path, as with, "A swift horse, seeing merely the shadow of the whip, arrives at once on the correct road." Sometimes one teaches that seeing principle arises apart from both, as when it is said, "Attaining nothing at all is itself already attainment — this is the attainment of attaining nothing." This is named the four propositions of ultimate meaning, seeing principle directly — how much more, then, could mind give rise to the three thousand dharmas by this same means? The Buddha's own intent, entirely pure and free of residue, does not lie fixed in cause, condition, both, or neither — the conventional truth is itself already the ultimate truth.

And, further, all four propositions may equally be spoken: speaking of cause is correct, speaking of condition is correct, speaking of both together is correct, speaking of neither is correct. It is like explaining milk to a person born blind — whether one says it is like a conch shell, like rice flour, like snow, or like a crane, the blind person, hearing any of these various explanations, thereby comes to understand milk all the same — and just so, the conventional truth is itself already the ultimate truth. One should know that speaking the entire day is, at the same time, not speaking at all the entire day; and not speaking the entire day is, at the same time, speaking the entire day. Obstructing both extremes the entire day, and illuminating both the entire day; breaking through even as one establishes, establishing even as one breaks through — the sūtras and treatises are, every one, exactly this way. Vasubandhu and Nāgārjuna, inwardly perceiving with perfect clarity, outwardly adapted to the occasion, each provisionally taking their own particular stand — and yet later masters, understanding only one side, and students clinging obstinately to it, have gone on to raise arrows and stones against one another, each defending only their own single position, gravely at odds with the sagely path. Should one grasp this sense, then all four propositions alike cannot be spoken, and all four alike can be spoken. Should one speak according to whatever is fitting, one should say: ignorance, dharma by dharma, and the Dharma-nature give rise to every dharma together — just as the dharma of sleep, dharma by dharma, joined with the mind, gives rise to every event within a dream. Where mind and condition come together, the three kinds of world, the three thousand marks and natures, all arise from the mind. A single nature, though slight, is not therefore nonexistent; ignorance, though manifold, is not therefore truly existent. Why is this? Point to the one as many, and the many are not truly many; point to the many as one, and the one is not thereby diminished. Hence this mind is named the inconceivable object.

Should one understand that a single mind is every mind, and every mind is a single mind, neither one nor every one at all; that a single aggregate is every aggregate, and every aggregate a single aggregate, neither one nor every one; that a single entry is every entry, and every entry a single entry, neither one nor every one; that a single element is every element, and every element a single element, neither one nor every one; that a single sentient being is every sentient being, and every sentient being a single sentient being, neither one nor every one; that a single land is every land, and every land a single land, neither one nor every one; that a single mark is every mark, and every mark a single mark, neither one nor every one; and so on, up through a single ultimate consistency being every ultimate consistency, and every ultimate consistency a single ultimate consistency, neither one nor every one — passing through every one of these in turn, all of them alike are the inconceivable object. Should the Dharma-nature and ignorance combine, giving rise to every dharma, the aggregates, entries, elements, and the rest, this is the conventional truth; that every element and entry is itself a single dharma-realm is the real truth; and that they are neither one nor every one at all is the ultimate truth of the middle way. Passing through every dharma in this way, there is nothing that is not the inconceivable threefold truth. If a single dharma is every dharma, this is precisely the dharma arisen through causes and conditions, and this is the provisional name, the contemplation of the provisional; if every dharma is itself a single dharma, "I declare this to be emptiness," the contemplation of emptiness; if it is neither one nor every one, this is the contemplation of the middle way. A single emptiness is every emptiness, with nothing in the provisional or the middle that is not itself empty — the total contemplation of emptiness. A single provisional is every provisional, with nothing in emptiness or the middle that is not itself provisional — the total contemplation of the provisional. A single middle is every middle, with nothing in emptiness or the provisional that is not itself the middle — the total contemplation of the middle. This is precisely the inconceivable single mind's threefold contemplation spoken of in the Middle Treatise. Passing through every dharma is exactly the same. If every dharma arisen through causes and conditions is spoken of, this is the expedient means that follows sentiment, the provisional wisdom of the paths; if every dharma is itself a single dharma, "I declare this to be emptiness," this is what follows wisdom, the wisdom of all things; if it is neither one nor every one, also named the sense of the middle way, this is neither provisional nor real, the wisdom of all modes. By the same pattern as above: a single provisional teaching is every provisional teaching, a single real teaching is every real teaching, and the whole is neither provisional nor real — passing through every one of these in turn is the inconceivable threefold wisdom. If following sentiment, this is speech that follows another's own intent; if following wisdom, this is speech that follows one's own intent; if neither provisional nor real, this is speech neither one's own nor another's — passing through every dharma in this way, there is nothing that is not the inconceivable gate of teaching, gradual, sudden, and indeterminate. Should one understand the sudden, one understands the mind directly; and since the mind itself cannot even be found, how, then, could there be any convergence, or non-convergence, to speak of at all? Should one understand the gradual, one understands that every dharma converges upon the mind. Should one understand the indeterminate, one understands that this very convergence goes no further. These are different in name but the same in sense: as the very standard governing the practitioner, they are called the three dharmas; as what is illuminated, they are called the three truths; as what is given rise to, they are called the three contemplations; once the contemplation is accomplished, they are called the three wisdoms; as taught to others, they are called the three modes of speech; as the very source to which all things return, they are called the three convergences. Grasping this sense and its kind, everything without exception becomes a gateway of the Dharma. Do not resent the manifold flavors of this, however troublesome they may seem.

It is like the wish-fulfilling jewel, the supreme treasure of the heavens, its own shape no larger than a mustard seed, and yet possessed of vast power: pure and sublime, the five desires, the seven treasures shining bright — neither stored within, nor entering from without; taking no thought of before or after, choosing neither much nor little, producing neither the coarse nor the fine, exactly according with whatever is wished, whether abundant or spare; raining down its bounty in torrents, never added to, never exhausted. If even a mere material thing is already able to accomplish this much, how much more the mind's own numinous, sublime spirit — how could it possibly fail to be complete with every dharma? Consider, further, the mind confused by the three poisons: the very instant a single thought arises, it already gives rise to the views of a substantial self and of extremes, to sharp and dull afflictions alike, the eighty-eight proclivities, and on up to the eighty-four thousand afflictions in full. Should one say these existed beforehand, how could they possibly still depend on conditions? Should one say they were originally nonexistent, then, once conditions meet, they ought to correspond exactly. Neither existent nor nonexistent — to fix upon existence is itself already deviance; to fix upon nonexistence is itself already falsehood. One should know that they exist and yet do not exist, do not exist and yet exist. If even the deluded mind is already thus, how much more the inconceivable single mind itself? Consider, further, one who, asleep, dreams of a hundred thousand myriad events — waking suddenly, not a single one remains; how much less, then, a hundred thousand of them at all? Before falling asleep, there is neither dreaming nor waking, neither many nor one; it is the power of sleep that makes them seem many, and the power of waking that makes them seem few. Zhuangzi dreamed he was a butterfly, fluttering freely for what seemed a hundred years; waking, he knew he was no butterfly, nor had a hundred years actually passed. Ignorance, dharma by dharma, and the Dharma-nature — a single mind being every mind — is like that very darkness of sleep; realizing that ignorance is itself already the Dharma-nature, every mind being a single mind, is like that very moment of waking. Consider, further, the practitioner of the samādhi of ease and bliss: in a single sleep, dreaming of first giving rise to the resolve, and on through becoming a buddha, sitting at the very seat of enlightenment, turning the wheel of the Dharma, delivering sentient beings, and entering nirvāṇa — waking suddenly, this is simply the content of a single dream. Should one believe these three similes, one thereby believes in the single mind — something neither spoken by the mouth nor measured by ordinary feeling. This inconceivable object — what dharma does it fail to gather in? This object gives rise to wisdom — what wisdom does it fail to give rise to? Relying on this object to give rise to the vow, and on through freedom from attachment even to the Dharma itself — what vow does it fail to complete? What practice does it fail to fulfill? Spoken of, it follows the sequence given above; practiced, a single mind is complete with every mind at once.

Second, giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind: having already deeply recognized the inconceivable object, one knows that a single suffering is every suffering. Grieving over one's own past suffering — giving rise to delusion, indulging in coarse, corrupting form and sound, letting body, speech, and mind run unchecked in unwholesome karma; turning through the wheel of the evil destinies, bound up in every burning affliction, suffering in body and suffering in mind, doing injury to oneself — and now, still wrapped in the very cocoon of one's own craving, harmed by the very lamp of one's own delusion, across a hundred thousand myriad kalpas — how great a pain is this! Suppose one wishes to cast aside the three evil destinies, and instead delights in the five precepts and the ten wholesome actions, cultivating merit with a mind still fixed on some mark — this is like trading in the marketplace, where one only adds to one's own offense in the exchange, like a fish swimming into the mouth of a trap, or a moth flying into a flame. Deranged calculation, deviant cunning — the further one goes, the further astray one strays, like drinking brine to quench one's thirst, only growing thirstier still. A dragon's whiskers binding the body only grow more painful once submerged in water; an ox-hide wrapped around the body only grows tighter still once turned toward the sun. Blind, one wanders into a thicket of thorns; drowning, one is drawn down into the whirling current. Grasping a blade, grasping a torch — how could the pain of it ever be told? A tiger's tail, a serpent's head — one trembles and shudders in terror at either. Reflecting that this is exactly my own condition, one grieves that it is exactly the condition of others as well. It is like fleeing along a narrow path out of an enemy land, enduring every hardship, on the very point of death and yet reviving — only to arrive at some poor village, hire oneself out for a single day's wage, lodge in a thatched hut, and refuse to go any further, content instead with so base an existence. Neither believing nor recognizing the truth — how pitiable, how strange this is! Reflecting on both others and oneself, one feels this pain lodged deep, for both self and other alike. And so one gives rise to great compassion, raising up the first two of the four universal vows: "Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to deliver them all. Afflictions are inexhaustible; I vow to extinguish them all." Though sentient beings are like empty space, one vows to deliver sentient beings as empty as space itself; though one knows that affliction has, in itself, nothing whatsoever, one vows to extinguish an affliction that has nothing whatsoever. Though one knows the number of sentient beings is exceedingly vast, one still delivers this exceedingly vast number of sentient beings; though one knows affliction has no bottom or boundary, one still extinguishes an affliction with no bottom or boundary. Though one knows sentient beings are, in their very suchness, the very suchness of the Buddha himself, one still delivers sentient beings who are the suchness of the Buddha; though one knows affliction is itself already the true mark of reality, one still extinguishes an affliction that is itself the true mark of reality.

Why is this? Should one pull out only the cause of suffering, without pulling out its fruit as well, this vow is itself mixed with poison, and so the contemplation of emptiness is needed. Yet should one contemplate emptiness one-sidedly, one then fails to see any sentient being left to deliver at all — this is named one attached to emptiness, whom the buddhas cannot transform. Should one, on the other hand, see sentient beings everywhere as objects to be delivered without qualification, one falls into a great compassion still bound by craving and view, which is not the path of liberation at all. Here, then, the vow is neither poison nor falsehood, and is hence named "true"; neither the extreme of emptiness nor the extreme of existence, and is hence named "correct." It is like a bird flying through the sky, never actually alighting anywhere within it; and though it never alights, its own path leaves no trace to be followed either. Though empty, one still delivers; though delivering, one is still empty — and this is exactly why it is named "vowing to do battle with empty space itself," and exactly why it is named "giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind." This is precisely that same sense. Further, recognizing the inconceivable mind, a single bliss is every bliss. I myself, and every sentient being, though we formerly sought after bliss, did not know its true cause — like grasping a shard of rubble and calling it a wish-fulfilling jewel, or falsely pointing to a firefly's glow and calling it the sun or the moon. Only now does true understanding begin, and so one gives rise to great loving-kindness, raising up the remaining two of the four universal vows: "The Dharma-gates are boundless; I vow to master them all. The unsurpassed buddha-path; I vow to accomplish it." Though one knows the Dharma-gates are, forever, as quiescent as empty space, one vows to cultivate that very quiescence in practice; though one knows bodhi itself has nothing whatsoever, it is precisely within that very nothingness that one still seeks it. Though one knows the Dharma-gates are, like empty space, without anything at all, one vows to paint and adorn that very empty space; though one knows the buddha-path is not something accomplished by any accomplishing at all, it is like planting a tree within empty space itself, causing it to bear flowers and to bear fruit. Though one knows that neither the Dharma-gates nor the fruit of buddhahood are cultivated, and yet are not uncultivated either, one cultivates them all the same; neither realized nor attained, and yet, with nothing whatsoever realized or attained, one still realizes and attains them. This is named neither falsehood nor poison, and hence named "true"; neither emptiness, nor craving, nor view, and hence named "correct." Compassion, this very vow, and the wisdom of the inconceivable object arise together at once, neither before nor after the other. Compassion is itself wisdom; wisdom is itself compassion. Without any object, without any conceptual thought, it covers over everything universally; effortlessly it pulls out suffering, spontaneously it bestows bliss. It is unlike the poison of hatred; unlike mere emptiness alone; unlike compassion still bound by craving and view. This is the sense of "giving rise to the true and correct bodhi-mind." Grieving for oneself, and grieving for sentient beings — the sense of both is exactly as explained above. This may be understood through contemplating the mind.

Third, skillfully settling the mind: skillfully using calming-and-contemplation to settle the mind within the Dharma-nature itself. Above, one has deeply fathomed the inconceivable object, so profound and subtle; and broadly carried compassion, so vast and all-covering. Now practice must be undertaken to fulfill that vow, and this very practice is calming-and-contemplation itself. Ignorance and deluded confusion are, at root, themselves already the Dharma-nature; on account of confusion and delusion, the Dharma-nature is transformed into ignorance, giving rise to every kind of inversion, wholesome and unwholesome alike — just as cold weather causes water to freeze, becoming solid ice; or just as sleep transforms the mind, giving rise to every kind of dream. Here, one should directly embody every inversion as itself already the Dharma-nature, neither one nor different from it. Though inversion arises and ceases like a whirling firebrand's circle of flame, one does not believe in this arising and ceasing of inversion, but believes only that this mind is, in every case, simply the Dharma-nature itself. Its arising is the Dharma-nature's own arising; its ceasing is the Dharma-nature's own ceasing; embodying it directly, there is, in reality, no arising or ceasing at all — one has only falsely supposed there to be arising and ceasing. Simply pointing directly at deluded thought as, in every case, already the Dharma-nature, binding the Dharma-nature to the Dharma-nature, being mindful of the Dharma-nature by means of the Dharma-nature itself — it is, constantly, the Dharma-nature, with never a moment that is not the Dharma-nature. Once this direct embodiment is accomplished, one no longer grasps at deluded thought, nor even grasps at the Dharma-nature either. Returning to the very source, turning back to the root, the dharma-realm, entire, is quiescent — this is named "calming." When calming of this kind is achieved, every flow and turning described above is thereby stilled. As for contemplation: contemplating the very mind of ignorance, above, it is equal to the Dharma-nature, originally, entirely empty; below, it is equal to every deluded thought, wholesome and unwholesome alike, all of it like empty space, with no two, no separation at all. It is like the ending of a kalpa, when, from the earth's own surface up to the first dhyāna heaven, blazing flame is nothing but fire throughout; or like the marks manifested by the bodhisattva Ākāśagarbha, every one of them, entirely, empty; or like when Sāgaramati first arrived, and everything manifested was, entirely, water. The very instant a thought stirs, both what is thought and the one who thinks it are, without exception, already empty — and this very emptiness, too, cannot be found. Just as fire and wood, spoken of before, can set kindling ablaze, so too does this happen of itself, effortlessly. The dharma-realm, penetrated through and radiant, is, altogether, brought to great clarity — this is named "contemplation." Calming is itself already wisdom; wisdom is itself already calming. The unmoving calming is itself already the unmoving wisdom; the unmoving wisdom is itself already the unmoving calming. The unmoving wisdom illuminating the Dharma-nature is itself the contemplative wisdom finding its own settling, and is likewise the calming finding its settling; being unmoved, in accord with the Dharma-nature, is itself the calming finding its settling, and is likewise the contemplation finding its settling — with no two, no separation at all. Should neither be settled even so, what, then, should be done? The spirit of the mind, dim and obscure, coarse and slippery, hazy and confused, arising and ceasing in a rush, difficult to hold and grasp; coming and going in an instant, not easily restrained or confined. Though one calms it, it still races off swiftly, flaring up like flame; though one contemplates it, the darkness only grows thicker than lacquer or ink. Applying effort with bitter diligence, the scattering delusion only intensifies twice over. The enemy strong, one's own strength weak, like the sandpiper and the clam locked together, gripping one another — one can neither advance nor retreat. At such a time, one should offer up one's very life in service of the path, presenting even flesh and bone; vowing to skillfully settle the mind, turning it about through expedient means, so that it may come into accord and reach the stage of contemplative practice.

Settling the mind divides into two: first, instructing others; second, one's own self-practice. Instructing others, in turn, divides into two: first, the sagely teacher; second, the ordinary teacher. The sagely teacher possesses the power of the wisdom-eye, clear about the Dharma-medicine; possesses the power of the Dharma-eye, discerning the sickness and its obstruction; and possesses the power of transformative guidance, matching the medicine exactly to the sickness, so that it is taken and put into practice. As when Upagupta, knowing that a certain disciple would awaken through faith, had him climb a tree; knowing another would awaken through food, had him partake of milk-curds; and knowing another would awaken through reproach, transformed himself into the image of a woman. Each and every one is opened to understanding without the slightest deviation, neither too soon nor too late — the very moment the word is spoken, awakening follows. Since the Buddha passed from the world, a teacher of this kind has become exceedingly difficult to find. How could a blind turtle ever chance to surface through a floating log's own single hole? How could a falling mustard seed ever happen to thread the very point of a needle below? Difficult indeed! Difficult indeed! Second, the ordinary teacher: though lacking these three powers, is still able to bestow instruction. It is like a skilled physician, precisely distinguishing medicine from sickness, understanding complexion, understanding voice, understanding the pulse — matching the medicine exactly, the patient recovers; though one whose life is truly at its end, even such a physician cannot raise from death. If the physician does not understand the pulse, but asks the patient about the symptoms and prescribes according to what is said, this too may, by chance, still bring about recovery. Even Śāriputra's own sagely virtue once misjudged a student's capacity — an ordinary being, still fully bound, may nonetheless be called a guide even while themselves still sick. Here, the sagely teacher is not what is discussed; what is properly discussed is the ordinary teacher, instructing others in settling the mind. Others are of two kinds: first, the practitioner of faith; second, the practitioner of dharma. The Sarvāstivādins explain that these two kinds of person are at the stage of seeing the path. One who enters through hearing is named "the practitioner of faith"; one who enters through reflection is named "the practitioner of dharma." The Dharmaguptakas say: "At the expedient stage, one who sees the dharma little of oneself, relying mostly on the power of hearing, and who, at a later time, must still hear the Dharma in order to awaken, is named 'the practitioner of faith.' One who relies little on the power of hearing, seeing the dharma mostly of oneself, and who, at a later time, must still reflect in order to awaken, is named 'the practitioner of dharma.'" But if, at the very stage of seeing the path, the markless mind is already sharp, arising all at once into the real — how, then, could one still distinguish between faith and dharma at all? Yet the Abhidharma masters base their account on how practice is accomplished, while the treatise-masters base theirs on innate capacity — each has its own reason, and neither should be dismissed as wrong. Here, tracing the matter back to its true source: through kalpas of listening and study, and kalpas of sitting in meditation, one comes to possess the seed of faith or of dharma; life after life, this habituation forms one's own capacity, and each accordingly awakens through hearing or through reflection. As for sharpness or dullness of capacity: the practitioner of dharma is sharp, since they observe the dharma inwardly, by themselves; the practitioner of faith is dull, since they depend on hearing from another. And yet the practitioner of faith is sharp in another sense, since a single hearing brings awakening at once; while the practitioner of dharma is dull in that same sense, since they must pass through the dharma by careful observation. Or both may be, in different respects, both sharp and dull at once: the practitioner of faith has sharp hearing-wisdom but dull cultivation-wisdom; the practitioner of dharma has sharp cultivation-wisdom but dull hearing-wisdom. Having now finished discussing the sharpness or dullness of a given person's own capacity, how, then, is the mind to be settled? The teacher should ask: "Toward concentration and wisdom, what is it you truly aspire to?" Should the person answer, "I have heard the Buddha say: 'A good spiritual friend is like the moon's own form and light, gradually growing full; or like a set of steps and rungs, gradually rising higher. Skillful speech turns a person's own mind, and attaining the path depends entirely on this causal condition; I long for it as eagerly as one parched with thirst longs to drink, like a calf pursuing its own mother'" — one should know this person is a practitioner of faith. Should the person instead answer, "I have heard the Buddha say: 'The substance of a bright mirror, when unmoving, reflects every form and image with perfect clarity; still water, without a single ripple, lets fish and stones appear of themselves. I delight in casting aside deluded thought, as one casts aside a heavy burden carried on the shoulders'" — one should know this person is a practitioner of dharma.

Once the person's own capacity is known, there are eight methods of settling the mind for a single person. "Listen well, good son! Across immeasurable kalpas, you have drunk the poison of frenzy and dissipation, chasing after the five sense-objects, rising and sinking through the three realms — like a fierce wind scattering tufts of kapok cotton, or like a bean boiling in a great, roiling cauldron, now rising, now sinking. From suffering you reach vexation, and from vexation you reach suffering once more — why not still the mind and reach its very root, unifying your own intent? Once the intent is unified, what matter could remain unaccomplished? Suffering and its origin, once unified, no longer turn through the cycle of rebirth; ignorance, once unified, no longer reaches as far as formations, and so on, no longer reaching even as far as old age and death. Felling the great tree at a single stroke, finished with the old, one creates nothing new; the six defilements, once unified, are thereby crossed over to the far shore — this alone is true joy." Skillful expedient means, every kind of causal condition, every kind of simile — broadly praising calming in this way, one's own feeling is thereby delighted. This is named "settling the mind through calming, in accordance with one's own aspiration." Further, good son! It is like a great drought, when every river and pond runs dry, every plant scorched and withered, every grain crop fallen to ruin — until the nāga-king Sāgara gathers clouds for seven days, pouring rain down upon every direction, the great earth thoroughly soaked, and every seed sprouts, every root and stem opens forth, every branch and leaf grows lush, and every flower and fruit blossoms in abundance. A person is exactly the same: on account of dissipation, wholesomeness that ought to arise fails to arise, and wholesomeness already arisen falls back and is lost. The river of meditative concentration runs dry, the tree of the branches of the path withers away, every wholesome thing scorches and shrivels, every merit decays — the flower of practice and the fruit of the path fail to ripen. But should one, in the quiet of the forest, unify the intent, nothing going out, nothing coming in, the still clouds gather themselves. Giving rise to every kind of meditative concentration is itself the falling of the rain: the forest and grove of merit, the expedient means of warmth and summit, the clear awakening of eye and wisdom, the forbearance of faith, the forbearance of accord, the unborn, quiescent extinction, and on up to the unsurpassed bodhi itself — every one of these is thereby attained." Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising calming in this way, one's own wholesome root is thereby generated. This is named "settling the mind through calming, in accordance with what is fitting." Further, good son! A scattered mind is the very worst among evils — like a drunken elephant with no hook to restrain it, trampling and ruining a garden of flowers; like a camel with a pierced nose, overturning and spilling its own load; swifter than a flash of lightning, more venomous than a serpent's tongue; the five obscurations piled up heavily, dust and mist dimming the very brightness of the sun — one cannot see even what lies close as one's own eyelash, let alone what lies far in the distant sky. But should one be able to cultivate concentration, it is like a lamp within a sealed chamber, able to break through the deepest darkness; like a golden probe removing a cataract from the eye, so that both emptiness and form grow bright and clear, and one, two, three fingers held before the eye can all be counted at once. A great rain is able to settle clamorous dust; a great concentration is able to still wild dissipation. Calming is able to break through scatteredness, and falsehood is thereby extinguished!" Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising calming in this way, one's own drowsiness and scatteredness are thereby broken. This is named "settling the mind through calming, as an antidote." Further, good son! When the mind abides in concentration, it is able to know the marks of arising and ceasing throughout the mundane world, and is also able to know the unborn, unceasing marks that transcend the world. Even the Tathāgata, upon attaining the path, still delighted in concentration — how much more, then, should an ordinary being? One who possesses meditative concentration is like one who sees a flash of lightning at night, and thereby glimpses the path at once, breaking through countless hundreds of millions of blazing evils, and eventually accomplishing the wisdom of all modes." Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising calming in this way, one thereby accords directly with suchness itself. This is named "settling the mind through calming, in accordance with the ultimate meaning."

Should the person say, "What I hear of quiescent extinction does not enter my own heart at all; but what I hear of careful distinctions, I listen to and receive without ever tiring" — one should then explain to them: the three evil destinies burning in flame, the camel and the donkey's own heavy beatings, the hunger and thirst of the hungry ghosts — none of these is named true suffering; rather, it is the darkness of delusion, deprived of learning, unable to recognize any direction at all, that is the truly great suffering. The bliss of broad learning and careful distinction, the bliss of seeing the Dharma and rejoicing in it, the bliss of using what is wholesome to attack what is unwholesome — the arhat free of attachment is named the very greatest bliss of all. Hearing the bliss of the ambrosial Dharma from one of broad learning, and observing accordingly as taught, one knows the path from what is not the path, remaining far removed from every pitfall, going straight forward without turning back. Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising contemplation in this way, one's own feeling is thereby delighted. This is named "settling the mind through contemplation, in accordance with one's own aspiration." Further, good son! The moon causes the lotus to open; the sun spurs on every undertaking; the merchant must follow the caravan's own leader; painting requires glue to bind its pigments. An unfired clay pot, never having met with fire, has not the least use at all; the blind, lacking a guide, cannot take even a single step forward. Practice without the wisdom of contemplation is exactly the same. The wisdom of all modes takes contemplation as its very root, adorned by immeasurable merit. Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising contemplation in this way, one's own merit is thereby generated. This is named "settling the mind through contemplation, in accordance with what is fitting." Further, good son! The wise recognize their own enemy, and the enemy is thereby unable to cause harm; a military commander with a strategy is able to defeat even a powerful foe. Without wind, how could clouds be swept away? Without clouds, how could the heat be screened off? Without water, how could fire be extinguished? Without fire, how could darkness be removed? The axe that splits firewood, the blade that cuts a binding rope — how could either surpass wisdom itself? Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising contemplation in this way, one is thereby enabled to break through evil. This is named "settling the mind through contemplation, as an antidote." Further, good son! The seven treasures lying within a well, the vase and basin within a darkened room, all require the sun's own light to be seen. Once the sun has risen, everything becomes clear and distinct. The eye of wisdom is needed to contemplate and know the true mark of reality in every dharma; within every dharma without exception, one enters by means of contemplating their very equality. Prajñāpāramitā is the very foremost in illuminating all of this. Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile — broadly praising contemplation in this way, understanding is thereby attained. This is named "settling the mind through contemplation, in accordance with the ultimate meaning." These, then, are the eight methods for settling the mind, taught to the practitioner of faith.

Should the person instead say, "I delight in stilling the mind, silence upon silence, diminishing it and diminishing it further, until I reach the unconditioned itself; I take no delight in careful distinction, and sitting there, racing about in thought brings no benefit at all" — this, then, is the capacity of the practitioner of dharma, and one should explain calming to them: do not search outwardly, but simply hold to the one within; grasping and awareness, in their restless flowing, all arise from delusion alone. It is like a whirling firebrand's circle of flame — cease moving the hand, and it stops; like a great wave stirred up in fury — let the wind grow still, and it settles clear. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "What is meant by clinging and pursuing? It means clinging to the three realms. What is meant by ceasing clinging and pursuing? It means the mind attains nothing at all." The Sūtra of Auspicious Manifestations says: "One who attains a single, unified mind — every deviance is thereby extinguished." Nāgārjuna says: "The real dharma is free of inversion — thought, notion, and observation are already removed, and the very dharma of language is, entirely, extinguished. Boundless offenses are thereby removed, the pure mind ever one; a person of such honor and sublimity is then able to see prajñā." The deep seclusion of the mountains is praised even by the immortals — how much more, then, should the clear purity of nirvāṇa be honored by the worthy and the sage? The Buddha's Own Discourse Sūtra says: "When a monk dwells amid the crowd, body and speech kept diligently occupied, every buddha alike grows concerned; when a monk dwells in the mountains, every affair stilled, resting in peace, every buddha alike rejoices." How much more, then, sitting cross-legged, hands folded, lips sealed and tongue stilled, reflecting on the mark of quiescence — the very source of the mind stilled as one, the dharma-realm alike quiescent — is this not the essential path? This alone is to be prized; nothing else can compare to it!" Skillful expedient means, every kind of causal condition, every kind of simile — broadly praising calming in this way, one's own heart is thereby delighted. This is named "settling the mind through calming, in accordance with one's own aspiration." Should the person say, "The more I contemplate the marks of dharmas, the more this only increases confusion and agitation, and wholesome dharmas grow no clearer" — one should then explain calming to them: calming is itself the level, fertile field of the dharma-realm — what dharma is not already complete within it? Relinquishing all grasping and pursuit, discussed above, is itself generosity; calming's own substance, free of evil, is itself the precepts; calming's own substance, unmoving, is itself forbearance; calming, without interruption or admixture, is itself diligent effort; calming, once settled, is itself dhyāna; calming as a dharma being itself nonexistent, and the one who calms likewise nonexistent, is itself wisdom; through calming, according with what is neither calming nor not-calming, is itself skillful means; a single calming being every calming is itself the vow; calming stilling craving, and calming stilling view, is itself power; this calming, being the very calming of the Buddha himself, with no two, no separation at all, is itself wisdom. Calming is complete with every dharma — it is itself the secret treasury. Simply settling within calming — what need is there to cultivate any other dharma separately?" Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile, causing one's own wholesome root to be generated — this is "settling the mind through calming, in accordance with what is fitting." Should the person say, "I contemplate the marks of dharmas, and yet scatteredness and drowsiness are not removed" — one should then explain that calming has vast capacity indeed. Calming is a wall of concentration, which the eight winds and every evil thought cannot penetrate. Calming is pure water, washing away lust and the eight inversions — like the morning dew, which vanishes the moment the sun appears. Calming is great loving-kindness, showing compassion to friend and foe alike, able to break through anger and rage. Calming is the great illuminating mantra, dispelling delusion and doubt alike. Calming is itself the Buddha, breaking through every obstruction to the path, like the universal medicine that cures every ailment, like a skilled and wondrous physician whose very incantation revives the withered and raises the dead." Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile, causing evil to be broken through — this is named "settling the mind through calming, as an antidote." Should the person say, "When I observe closely, I still fail to reach any awakening at all" — one should then explain calming to them: calming is itself embodying the real, illuminating even while ever quiescent; calming is itself according with conditions, quiescent even while ever illuminating; calming is itself the calming that is neither calming nor not-calming, obstructing both extremes and illuminating both at once. Calming is itself the mother of the Buddha, calming is itself the father of the Buddha, at once both father and mother together. Calming is itself the Buddha's own teacher, the Buddha's own body, the Buddha's own eye, the Buddha's own excellent marks, the Buddha's own treasury, the Buddha's own dwelling-place — what is there that it fails to be complete with? What is there that it fails to remove?" Skillful expedient means, every kind of condition and simile, broadly praising calming in this way — this is "settling the mind through calming, in accordance with the ultimate meaning."

Should that person say, "Calming has the appearance of sinking into mere quiescence — this is not what truly delights me" — one should then explain contemplation to them, tracing out the reasoning behind it. Among the seven factors of enlightenment, there is the factor of discernment; among the eightfold noble path, there is right view; among the six pāramitās, there is prajñā — within every gateway of the Dharma, this serves as master and as guide, all the way through to the accomplishment of buddhahood itself. Correct awakening, great awakening, universal awakening — these are, every one, simply other names for the wisdom of contemplation; one should know that the wisdom of contemplation is the very most honored and sublime of all." Broadly praised in this way, this is "settling the mind through contemplation, in accordance with one's own aspiration." Should one diligently cultivate contemplation, one is able to give rise to faith, precepts, concentration, wisdom, liberation, and the knowledge and vision of liberation. Knowing the sickness, recognizing the remedy, the great practice of transformative guidance, every wholesome thing gathering together in abundance — nothing surpasses contemplation for this. This is "settling the mind through contemplation, in accordance with what is fitting." Contemplation is able to break through darkness, able to illuminate the path, able to remove one's own enemy, able to attain the treasure; toppling the mountain of deviance, exhausting the ocean of craving — all of this is the very power of contemplation. This is "settling the mind through contemplation, as an antidote." When contemplating a dharma through contemplation, one no longer grasps at any agent or object at all; the mind's own concern grows empty and expansive, hazy yet on the verge of opening — one should simply diligently contemplate opening, revealing, awakening, and entering. This is using "contemplation, in accordance with the ultimate meaning, to settle the mind." These, then, are the eight methods for settling the mind, taught to the practitioner of dharma.

Furthermore, a person's own capacity is not fixed, and may at times shift and turn. The Sarvāstivādins explain that dull capacity can be turned into sharp; the Satyasiddhi-śāstra explains that repeated practice makes it sharp. But these accounts discuss sharpness and dullness only from beginning to end, and cannot address the matter as it happens in the very moment. Here, it is clarified that a sentient being's own mental activity is itself unfixed — sometimes dull in one instant, sharp in the very next, simply so of itself, effortlessly, having nothing to do with any gradual turning of capacity, nor with repeated practice either. Sometimes contemplation, pursued without full penetration, is followed by sudden awakening upon merely hearing something further; sometimes prolonged hearing brings no understanding at all, and yet a brief moment of reflection resolves it at once. This is exactly why the settling of the mind must be discussed once more, in terms of this shifting capacity. Should the practitioner of dharma shift into a practitioner of faith, one follows this shift in capacity, applying the eight siddhāntas to bestow the settling of the mind accordingly. Should the practitioner of faith shift into a practitioner of dharma, one likewise follows this shift in capacity, applying the eight siddhāntas to bestow the settling of the mind accordingly. Grasping this sense, one may speak of it broadly or briefly, quite freely. Shifting or not shifting, this makes thirty-two methods of settling the mind in all.

As for settling the mind through one's own self-practice: one should observe this mind closely — what does it truly desire? If it wishes to still deluded thought, making every notion quiescent, this is the delight of the practitioner of dharma. If it delights in hearing and listening, penetrating to the very bottom of ignorance, this is the delight of the practitioner of faith. As for delighting in quiescence: since deluded thought issues from the mind itself, stilling the mind stills every delusion along with it. If one wishes to illuminate and know directly, one must know the very source of the mind; the source of the mind being non-dual, every dharma is then, alike, the same as empty space. This is "settling the mind through self-practice, in accordance with one's own aspiration." Though this mind may broadly distinguish itself and every other dharma, if faith, mindfulness, and diligence produce not even the slightest wholesome quality, one should then hold it fixed and still, without moving; every wholesome merit is born from stillness. But should this fixed stillness only sink further into deep torpor, with no forward progress or forbearance arising at all, one should weigh and measure the matter, spurring it back into motion. Should thought after thought fail to remain settled, racing off like a sweating horse in flight, one should then apply calming as the antidote to this restless racing. Should silent stillness, indeterminate, merge into sleep, one should then cultivate contemplation to break through this drowsy obstruction. Should calming, long cultivated, fail to open into further understanding, one should then cultivate contemplation instead, contemplating every dharma as unobstructed and undifferentiated, settled and sharply clear, gradually perceiving it as like empty space. Should contemplation, long cultivated, fail to remove this darkening obstruction, one should return once more to cultivating calming, calming every conditioned thought, with neither agent nor object, both the object and the self alike quiescent, so that the wisdom of emptiness is about to arise. These are the eight skillful arrangements for cultivating the practitioner of dharma's own self-practice, so that the mind is settled. As for settling the mind for the practitioner of faith: should one wish to hear of a quiescent concentration like Mount Sumeru, unafraid of the eight winds that stir it, one should then listen to teaching on calming. Should one wish to hear of a sharp contemplation that breaks through every affliction like the sun dispelling darkness, one should then listen to teaching on contemplation. Should listening to teaching on contemplation grow excessive, like the sun scorching a young sprout, one should then listen to teaching on calming, moistening it with the water of concentration. Should listening to teaching on calming linger too long, like a sprout rotting away, unable to grow, one should then listen to teaching on contemplation, letting the wind and sun stir it into motion, so that wholesome dharmas may manifest. Should awareness race about at times, unable to settle even for a single thought, one should then listen to teaching on calming, to treat this scattered mind. Should one sink into a hazy, foggy torpor, one should then listen to teaching on contemplation, to break through this heavy drowsiness. Should teaching on calming bring sudden clarity, one should then listen exclusively to teaching on calming; should teaching on contemplation bring bright clarity, one should then listen exclusively to teaching on contemplation. These are the eight skillful methods for the practitioner of faith's own self-cultivated settling of the mind. Should the mind of a practitioner of dharma shift into that of a practitioner of faith, or the mind of a practitioner of faith shift into that of a practitioner of dharma, in every case one follows whatever is fitting, skillfully refining the approach accordingly. Self-practice thus has thirty-two methods; instructing others likewise has thirty-two methods, making sixty-four methods of settling the mind altogether.

Furthermore, faith and dharma do not stand entirely alone — hearing and reflection must support one another. As with the practitioner of dharma: hearing but a single phrase, such as "the substance is quiescent, deep and clear, every dream and delusion dispelled," they return to sitting in reflection, and the heart gives rise to joy. Or, having heard of calming, they return once more to reflection, and dhyāna is thereby born. Or, having heard of calming, they return at once to reflection, and every deluded thought is thereby broken. Or, having heard of calming, they return once more to reflection, and understanding dawns, on the very verge of awakening. Or, having heard of contemplation, they return once more to reflection, and the heart gives rise to great joy. Or, having heard of contemplation, they return once more to reflection, giving rise to wholesomeness, breaking through evil, on the verge of awakening, and so on — this may be understood by the same pattern as before. This, then, is hearing little and reflecting much, named "the practitioner of dharma" — not one who fails to listen to the Dharma at all. The practitioner of faith, sitting upright, reflecting on quiescent extinction, gives rise to no joy or delight at all; rising from sitting and hearing teaching on calming, joy and delight follow. Sitting upright, mindful of what is wholesome, wholesomeness fails to arise; rising and hearing teaching on calming, faith, precept, and diligence redouble further still. Sitting upright, treating what is unwholesome, the unwholesome fails to be dispelled; rising and hearing teaching on calming, agitation is broken through and extinguished. Sitting upright, seeking the real directly, the real path fails to open; rising and hearing teaching on calming, understanding dawns all at once, as though awakening to quiescence itself. This, then, is the practitioner of faith, sitting little and hearing much — not one who fails to reflect at all. What came before treated capacity as fixed in one single direction; here, capacity is treated as mutually supporting instead. Within this mutual support, shifting or not shifting, too, may be discussed, yielding thirty-two further methods of settling the mind. Instructing others through mutual support likewise yields thirty-two methods, making sixty-four in all. Combined with what came before, this makes one hundred and twenty-eight methods of settling the mind altogether. The very ground of the mind is difficult to settle, resisting suffering and pursuing pleasure; here, one follows the mind's own wish, and settles it accordingly. It is like nourishing life itself, through drink or through food, each fitting the body and sustaining life; nourishing the Dharma-body is exactly the same, taking calming as the drink and contemplation as the food. The dharma of medicine, too, is twofold, whether pill or powder, to remove cold or heat, treating the sickness of ignorance — taking calming as the pill and contemplation as the powder. It is like the dharma of yin and yang: yang is wind and sun; yin is cloud and rain — too much rain causes rot, too much sun causes scorching. Yin is like concentration; yang is like wisdom — one one-sidedly fixed on either wisdom or concentration alike fails to see the buddha-nature. Harmonizing these eight methods, the value lies in grasping their true sense. There is a certain meditation teacher who does not permit the practice of contemplation, using calming alone and exclusively, citing a verse: "Thinking upon thinking is merely thinking for its own sake; thinking upon thinking is merely suffering for its own sake. Stilling thought is itself the path; where thought remains, one never truly sees at all." There is another meditation teacher who does not permit the practice of calming, focusing on contemplation alone, citing a verse: "Calming upon calming is merely calming for its own sake, dim and dark, to no purpose at all; calming upon calming is itself the path; contemplation upon contemplation is what truly grasps principle." Each of these two teachers enters through only a single gate, and teaches others according to what has benefited themselves alone. Students, then, fail to grasp the true sense of it — drinking only milk, even a simple curd remains difficult to attain, how much less the finest ghee? If one were to form a single, fixed understanding only, why would the Buddha have taught in so many different ways at all? The sky is not always clear; a physician does not prescribe only a single powder; food is not always plain rice — even worldly matters are not so fixed, how much less, then, the world-transcending Dharma? Here, following capacity, following sickness, turning about accordingly, self-practice and instructing others together yield sixty-four methods. Applying this to the three successive contemplations, this yields three hundred and eighty-four; and the single mind's own calming-and-contemplation yields a further sixty-four, making five hundred and twelve in all. The first three siddhāntas are worldly methods of settling the mind, like a worldly physician's own treatment — cured, and yet liable to fall ill again; the fourth siddhānta alone is the world-transcending method of settling the mind, the Tathāgata's own treatment, never to recur once cured. The worldly and the world-transcending dharma mutually complete and reveal one another. Apart from the three truths, there is no place to settle the mind at all; apart from calming-and-contemplation, there is no method for settling it either. If the mind is already settled in the truth, a single phrase alone suffices; but should it not yet be settled, skillful means must be applied so that the mind may attain its settling. A net with only a single mesh cannot catch a bird; and yet what actually catches the bird is only ever a single mesh of that net. Sentient beings' own mental activity differs from one to the next — sometimes many people share the very same mental activity; sometimes a single person passes through many different kinds of mental activity in turn. What applies to a single person applies equally to many; what applies to many applies equally to a single person. One must broadly cast the net of the Dharma, mesh by mesh, in order to catch the very birds of the mind.

Fourth, clarifying comprehensively breaking through every dharma: the Dharma-nature is pure, neither combined nor dispersed, the path of words cut off, the sphere of the mind's own activity extinguished — neither broken nor unbroken. Why, then, speak of "breaking" at all? Simply because sentient beings are, for the most part, inverted, and only rarely free of inversion — breaking through inversion so that it becomes freedom from inversion is exactly why this is named "comprehensively breaking through every dharma." Above, once the mind is skillfully settled, concentration and wisdom already open and unfold, with no need for any further breaking-through. But should this accord not yet be reached, one must apply the wisdom already present in concentration to exhaust and purify it entirely — hence the word "breaking." Yet breaking through dharmas must proceed by way of a gate, and the sūtras name different gates: sometimes the written word serves as the gate, as the Larger Sūtra clarifies with its "forty-two letter gates"; sometimes contemplative practice serves as the gate, as the Treatise clarifies with "the bodhisattva cultivating the three samādhis, taking the true mark of every dharma as the object"; sometimes wisdom serves as the gate, as the Lotus Sūtra speaks of "its own gate of wisdom"; sometimes principle itself serves as the gate, as the Larger Sūtra clarifies that "the unborn dharma, neither coming nor going, is itself the Buddha." Relying on the gate of teaching, one penetrates through to contemplation; relying on the gate of contemplation, one penetrates through to wisdom; relying on the gate of wisdom, one penetrates through to principle. Principle itself serving as the gate — through to what further place does it then penetrate? Teaching, contemplation, wisdom, and every other gate all rely upon principle; and if that which relies is itself a gate, how could that which is relied upon fail to be a gate as well? Though it penetrates through to nothing further, its penetration is, in the end, everywhere complete — this is the sublime gate itself. Setting these three other gates aside for now, only the gate of teaching shall be discussed here. The Tripiṭaka teaching's own four gates first break through views, and afterward break through habituated thought, or break through both together; the shared teaching's own four gates likewise first break through views, and afterward break through habituated thought, or break through both together — but these break through only the four abodes of affliction, and cannot be said to be "comprehensive." The distinct teaching's own four gates break through the five abodes of affliction in sequence — this, then, is comprehensive vertically but not comprehensive horizontally, and neither of these is what is used here. Here, the inconceivable teaching holds that a single object is every object, a single mind is every mind; every dharma, both horizontally and vertically, converges entirely upon the mind — and since breaking through the mind breaks through everything at once, this is exactly why it is named "comprehensive." The remaining gates, which break through only incompletely, need not be further discussed. The perfect teaching's own four gates are, every one, able to break through comprehensively — namely, the gate of existence, the gate of nonexistence, the gate of both existence and nonexistence, and the gate of neither existence nor nonexistence. Here, the latter three gates shall be set aside for now, and only the gate of emptiness, the gate of the unborn, shall be relied upon. The gate of the unborn is able to carry calming-and-contemplation through to both cause and fruit; and is, further, able to reveal the unborn itself, causing this gate to shine forth in glory. Why is this? Calming-and-contemplation is the practice; the gate of the unborn is the teaching. Relying on the teaching to cultivate practice, one is carried through to the forbearance of the unborn dharma, the stage of cause fully complete. In the Vimalakīrti Sūtra, the thirty-two bodhisattvas each speak of entering the gate of non-duality — every one of them, a bodhisattva entering a stage by way of a gate, with the unborn taken as foremost among them. The Larger Sūtra clarifies the gate of the letter a, meaning precisely that "every dharma is, from the very outset, unborn" — this proves that the gate of the unborn carries calming-and-contemplation through to the cause, and the sense of this may be clearly seen. As for calming-and-contemplation causing the gate of the unborn to shine forth in glory: the Dharma does not reveal itself — its propagation depends upon the person. When a person is able to carry out the practice, the gate of the Dharma shines forth in glory, causing the unborn teaching to move without obstruction, in every direction, reaching wherever it touches — and only thus does the very sense of "gate" come to be fulfilled. It is like the way people of the world pass in and out through a gate — where there are people, and rank, the gate itself becomes glorious and renowned. The comparison being thus, what it compares to may be understood.

As for the gate reaching the fruit: the Nirvāṇa Sūtra says, "'Pari' means 'not'; 'nirvāṇa' means 'born' — the sense of 'not born' is named 'the great nirvāṇa.'" It also says, "The two dharmas of concentration and wisdom are able to bring great benefit, all the way through to bodhi itself." The Larger Sūtra says, "The unborn dharma neither comes nor goes; the unborn dharma is itself the Buddha." The Lotus Sūtra says, "The Buddha himself abides in the Mahāyāna; according to the dharma he himself has attained, adorned with the power of concentration and wisdom, he thereby delivers sentient beings by this very means." Citing these three sūtras alone, the sense of the fruit is already made clear. As for calming-and-contemplation being able to reveal the fruit: the fruit does not reveal itself — through practice, the fruit is brought to fullness; and once the fruit is full, everything is thereby full as well. Towering and majestic, like the moon among the stars, illuminating the ten jeweled mountains, its reflection reaching the four seas — the fruit, too, is exactly the same: unsurpassed, unsurpassed again, its merit rising higher than the ten grounds themselves, drawing in beings of all four capacities. In the Sūtra of Golden Light, where the Buddha himself bows before a relic-stūpa, this is exactly that same sense.

The unborn teaching's own gateway, gathering in cause and fruit vertically, has already had its sense made plain; the sense of gathering horizontally shall now be explained. The Larger Sūtra says: "Should one hear the gate of the unborn, one thereby understands every sense whatsoever. The very first letter a gathers in all forty-one letters, and the forty-one letters gather in the letter a — and it is exactly the same for every letter in between." Gathering in both horizontally and vertically in full — the text says exactly this. This sense is difficult to see, and so the Sūtra of the Buddha-Treasury shall first be cited to show its mark, then the Nirvāṇa Sūtra to clarify its meaning, and only afterward shall the gate of the unborn's own comprehensive breaking-through be explained. The Sūtra of the Buddha-Treasury says: "When the fire of the kalpa's end arises, a single spit from the bodhisattva extinguishes it at once; a single breath from him, and the world is formed once more." This is not extinguishing first and forming afterward — within that single spit alone, extinguishing and forming happen at once. That sūtra clarifies the outward function, while inwardly according with the gate of the unborn: breaking through comprehensively and establishing comprehensively at once, breaking and establishing requiring no second thought between them. Were there no such virtue within, there could be no such great function shown without — the outward is borrowed to reveal the inward, and this is exactly its own mark. One who wishes to recognize this through contemplating the mind should know: as a sentient being's own single lifetime draws to its close, this is itself the ending of a kalpa; the three poisons and the three calamities, fire foremost among the words for them. Calming it with calming is like that very spit extinguishing the fire; contemplating it with contemplation is like that very breath forming the world anew.

As for the Nirvāṇa Sūtra's own exegesis of this sense: the single phrase "hearing without hearing" carries manifold senses within it. It first says: "not-born-born, not-born-not-born, born-not-born, born-born." Examining this: these four propositions expound the gate of the unborn, gathering in, comprehensively, both the cause and fruit of one's own practice and the agent and object of transforming others alike. "Not-born-born" means: "settled within the conventional truth, at the very moment of first emerging from the womb, this is named not-born-born." Here it is explained: "conventional truth" means ignorance, together with the Dharma-nature, giving rise to everything, distinguished and differentiated one from another — hence it is named the "conventional truth." "Settled" means using calming-and-contemplation to settle within the conventional truth, which is itself already the inconceivable object; the stage of contemplative practice being accomplished, this is hence named "settled." On account of being thus settled, this is named "entrusted to the sage's own embryo." The first opening of the buddha's own knowledge and vision, attaining the forbearance of the unborn, is named "emerging from the sage's own embryo." Not seeing the conventional truth of ignorance is hence called "unborn"; obtaining the buddha's own knowledge and vision is hence named "born." The Treatise says: "Every dharma is unborn, and yet prajñā is born" — this is exactly that same sense. This explains the stage of one's own practice reaching the forbearance of the unborn, the sense of the cause thereby accomplished. The sūtra's exegesis of "not-born-not-born" says: "Not-born-not-born is named the great nirvāṇa. The mark of birth is exhausted entirely, attained through the cultivation of the path." Here it is explained: the fruit is brought about through the cause, hence it is said, "attained through the cultivation of the path." The virtue of severance already perfected, ignorance is no longer born; the virtue of wisdom already perfected, prajñā, too, is no longer born — hence it is said, "not-born-not-born." This explains one's own practice reaching the forbearance of quiescent extinction, the sense of the fruit thereby accomplished. Cause and fruit both already perfected, this is exactly what the Sūtra of the Buddha-Treasury clarifies as that single breath and spit, extinguishing and establishing at once — this is exactly that same sense.

The sūtra's exegesis of "born-not-born" says: "At the very moment the conventional truth dies, this is named born-not-born." Here it is explained: "conventional truth" means that ignorance is its very root; ignorance having already been broken through, this is hence called "the world dying"; and the world having died, this is hence named "born-not-born." This explains the first proposition. The first proposition, above, took principle as its object, the virtue of wisdom thereby accomplished, and so is said to be "not-born-born." This proposition, below, breaks through affliction, the virtue of severance thereby accomplished, and so is said to be "born-not-born." Though the word "born" is the same in name, the actual matter and the underlying principle differ greatly between the two. The first proposition names the opening and unfolding of wisdom as "born"; this proposition names the arising and stirring of karmic bondage as "born." Though the name "born" is the same, bondage and liberation differ enormously between the two — do not let confusion over the name obscure the actual sense; this must be precisely discerned! This must be precisely discerned! The first proposition is like the breath within the spit; this proposition is like the spit within the breath — spit and breath happen at a single instant, and cannot be placed one before the other. The sūtra further re-explains this same proposition, saying: "The bodhisattva who has severed the four abodes of affliction is named born-not-born, since birth is now self-mastered." Here it is explained: the earlier "born-not-born" explained the extinguishing of one's own affliction through practice; this further re-explanation of "born-not-born" clarifies the flourishing of the way of transforming others. Why is this? When the bodhisattva severs the four abodes of affliction, breaking through the very birth caused by karmic bondage, they are thereby already able to be born with self-mastery — how much more, then, once the fifth abode as well is severed? Using the lesser to reveal the greater, the way of transformation is thereby made all the more evident; the two lesser vehicles, severing affliction only to sink into emptiness, are unable to do this, and this is exactly why the bodhisattva alone is singled out here. The extinguishing of affliction reveals the spit; the flourishing of transformation reveals the breath. The sūtra's exegesis of "born-born" says: "Because every contaminated dharma is born, thought after thought." Here it is explained: this proposition clarifies precisely the place where the very function of transformation operates. Why does the bodhisattva, though unborn, still take birth? Simply because every contaminated sentient being continues on, uninterrupted, and so the bodhisattva gives rise to great compassion on this very account, manifesting a birth of self-mastery in order to deliver them. This, then, is the gate of the unborn gathering in, comprehensively, both the cause and fruit of one's own practice and the agent and object of transforming others — every one of these complete within it.

As for the "bodhisattva of the four abodes": the Yogācārabhūmi says, "From the very first abiding of giving rise to the resolve up through the ten grounds, these are gathered together into six abidings: first, the abiding of the seed-nature; second, the abiding of understanding and practice; third, the abiding of the purified mind; fourth, the abiding of following the traces of the path; fifth, the abiding of certainty; sixth, the abiding of ultimacy." As for "the abiding of the seed-nature": should a person lack this seed-nature, though born into a wholesome destiny, they repeatedly regress and repeatedly advance, and cannot be counted among the bodhisattva's own six kinds of person; but should the place of this seed-nature already be accomplished, with no regression or loss at all, advancing further and further, this is counted as the first of the six kinds of person. "The person of understanding and practice" is at the expedient stage prior to the first ground. "The abiding of the purified mind" is entering the first ground itself, attaining the world-transcending mind, free of the ordinary being's own obstruction of the mark of self — hence it is named "the abiding of the purified mind." "The abiding of following the traces of the path" spans from the second ground through the seventh, abiding in the cultivation of the path. "The abiding of certainty" is the eighth and ninth grounds; the practice of reward already attained, never turning back, never regressing, hence it is named "certainty." "The abiding of ultimacy" is the tenth ground, the study and practice of it brought to their utmost fullness, hence it is called "the abiding of ultimacy." Where the sūtra names "the bodhisattva of the four abodes" as "born-not-born," this refers precisely to the abiding of following the traces of the path. From the second ground onward, this is precisely the stage of entering the provisional to transform others, manifesting birth in place after place and yet without any real birth at all — using the distinct teaching to reveal the perfect. From the very first moment of emerging from the womb, one is already able to benefit others, transforming and giving birth with complete self-mastery — and with regard to the perfect teaching's own sense, this too ought to suffer no loss at all.

The sūtra, further, gives six propositions: "not-born-born, too, cannot be spoken; born-born, too, cannot be spoken; born-not-born, too, cannot be spoken; not-born-not-born, too, cannot be spoken; born cannot be spoken; not-born cannot be spoken." Examining this: these six propositions clarify the gate of the unborn's own comprehensive breaking-through. To break through conceivable affliction, the first four propositions are used; to break through inconceivable affliction, the latter two are used. Why is this? Conceivable affliction, though manifold, never exceeds the bounds of within and beyond the three realms. Affliction beyond the three realms arises attached to the very substance of things, hence it is called "not-born-born"; affliction within the three realms is a mere branch and twig, hence it is called "born-born." This affliction, tangled and confused, is, in every case, the very object of what is to be transformed, and it is precisely for the sake of this object that a birth of self-mastery is bestowed. Since what is to be transformed cannot ultimately be found, where, then, could there be any agent of transformation either? Agent and object both vanish together, and this is exactly why "not-born-born and born-born alike cannot be spoken." To break through conceivable understanding: though this understanding, too, is manifold, it never exceeds the bounds of within and beyond the three realms. Understanding within the three realms merely dispels segmented birth-and-death, hence it is called "born-not-born"; understanding beyond the three realms dispels both segmented and mutable birth-and-death together, hence it is called "not-born-not-born." This understanding differs in shallowness and depth, and so manifold causes and fruits of one's own practice result from it. Yet principle itself is never anything but singular — how, then, could there truly be manifold understanding at all? Here, this is comprehensively broken through with a single spit, hence it is said, "born-not-born cannot be spoken; not-born-not-born, too, cannot be spoken." To break through inconceivable affliction: this is simply ignorance itself. On account of ignorance, birth occurs; on account of birth, ignorance persists — ignorance cannot ultimately be found, and birth, too, cannot ultimately be found. Here, both are broken through with a single spit, hence it is said, "born cannot be found." To break through inconceivable understanding: this is simply the perfect teaching's own understanding. The perfect teaching's own understanding, from beginning to end, distinguishes cause from fruit — yet principle itself neither fails to be perfect nor has any beginning or end at all, so how, then, could there truly be any cause or fruit? Here, both are broken through with a single spit, hence it is said, "not-born cannot be found." Taking up that sūtra's own intent to explain the gate of the unborn's own comprehensive breaking-through — the sense of this is now made plain.

The Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, further, says: "From the very night I attained the path to the very night of my parinirvāṇa, I have not spoken a single word." The Buddha, on account of two dharmas, spoke in this way: namely, the dharma taken as his own object, and the dharma that abides originally. As for "his own dharma": what the Tathāgata himself attained, I too have attained — neither increasing nor decreasing, free of verbal expression, of deluded thought, of written word, and of the twofold movement. This may be explained: "taking his own dharma as object" is realizing the sage's own real truth, the true nature of reality itself. "Free of verbal expression, of deluded thought" is the inconceivable itself. "Free of written word" is being free of the provisional name. "Free of the twofold movement" is being free of speaking and what is spoken, of conceiving and what is conceived, of naming and what is named. As for "the dharma that abides originally": this refers to the sagely path of old, the dharma-realm abiding forever. It is like a road leading to a city — the road exists for a person to travel upon, and it is not the traveler who creates the road; the city is reached by means of the road, and it is not the one who arrives who creates the city. The sūtra says: "A person seeing the level road follows it and enters the city, receiving every joy just as they wish. I myself, and every buddha before me, alike find the dharma-realm abiding forever, exactly the same way. This is exactly why, across those two nights, not a single word was spoken." One should know that these two dharmas are fixed and certain, not something that speech or discrimination could ever alter. "The original dharma" is suchness itself; "his own dharma" is the realization of the real. This same sense accords with the four propositions of the Nirvāṇa Sūtra that "cannot be spoken." "Born-born cannot be spoken" is the original dharma that cannot be spoken; birth following and according with conditions is the original dharma that cannot be spoken. "Born-not-born cannot be spoken" is precisely the dharma of one's own severance that cannot be spoken. "Not-born-born cannot be spoken" is precisely the dharma of one's own wisdom that cannot be spoken. "Not-born-not-born cannot be spoken" is precisely the dharma of ultimate self-realization that cannot be spoken. Of the latter two propositions given earlier, one concludes "born cannot be spoken," concluding that the original dharma cannot be spoken; the other concludes "not-born cannot be spoken," concluding that the dharma of self-realization cannot be spoken.

The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says, "The dharma of the twelve links of dependent origination serves as the cause for birth, and this too may indeed be spoken of." Here it is explained: this is precisely the sense of the gate of the unborn establishing comprehensively — exactly as the Sūtra of the Buddha-Treasury clarifies with its single breath forming everything comprehensively. As for "the twelve links": from the link of ignorance through to the link of existence, every dharma is thereby established. "Establishing" has three senses: first, establishing sentient beings; second, establishing capacity and condition; third, establishing verbal teaching. As for "establishing sentient beings": the two causes of the past and the five fruits of the present, mutually serving as cause and condition for one another, establish the five aggregates, provisionally named "sentient being." As for "establishing capacity": in the past, one may have cultivated the practice of analysis, the practice of embodying, the practice of gradual progress, or the practice of sudden attainment, taking this practice as karma, moistened by ignorance, and thereby bringing about the present five fruits. Upon this fruit of the aggregates, the original habituation arises once more, giving rise to craving and grasping toward existence through analysis, or through embodying, or through gradual progress, or through sudden attainment. Since grasping toward existence has thus arisen, this becomes the very capacity and condition. As for "establishing verbal teaching": since craving and grasping toward existence through analysis has arisen, this attracts the Tripiṭaka teaching — this is "born-born cannot be spoken"; the dharma of the twelve links serving as the cause of "born-born" may indeed be spoken of, and speaking of it is speaking of "born-born." Craving and grasping toward existence through embodying attracts the shared teaching — this is "born-not-born cannot be spoken"; the dharma of the twelve links serving as the cause of "born-not-born" may indeed be spoken of, and speaking of it is speaking of "born-not-born." Craving and grasping toward existence through gradual progress attracts the distinct teaching — this is "not-born-born cannot be spoken"; the dharma of the twelve links serving as the cause of "not-born-born" may indeed be spoken of, and speaking of it is speaking of "not-born-born." Craving and grasping toward existence through sudden attainment attracts the perfect teaching — this is "not-born-not-born cannot be spoken"; the dharma of the twelve links serving as the cause of "not-born-not-born" may indeed be spoken of, and speaking of it is speaking of "not-born-not-born." Should sentient beings be established, then every dharma of affliction, its cause and its fruit, is thereby established, and every object of transformation is thereby established as well; should capacity and teaching be established, then every cause and fruit of understanding and practice is thereby established, and every agent of transformation is thereby established as well. This, then, is the gate of the unborn: establishing one thing establishes everything. Hence the Larger Sūtra says: "Should one hear the gate of the letter a, one thereby understands every sense whatsoever." The Sūtra of the Buddha-Treasury says: "A single breath, and everything is thereby formed comprehensively." This is exactly what is meant here.

It is like the Yogācārabhūmi's own four kinds of ripening capacity: the śrāvaka's own seed-nature, the pratyekabuddha's own seed-nature, the buddha's own seed-nature, and the bodhisattva's own seed-nature. Lacking these four natures, one is ripened instead through mere wholesome destinies. The buddha's own seed-nature is precisely this perfect teaching's own capacity; the bodhisattva's own seed-nature is precisely this distinct teaching's own capacity. That text says: "The bodhisattva's own seed, whether a buddha has appeared in the world or not, is able to sever the obstruction of affliction and the obstruction of the intellect in sequence" — is this not exactly the distinct teaching's own capacity? The śrāvaka's own seed-nature should further be opened out: a wholesome root distinct and different from others is exactly the Tripiṭaka teaching's own capacity; a seed-nature that retreats from the great vehicle and takes up the small is exactly the shared teaching's own capacity. Those four kinds of ripening are exactly this same sense of the four kinds of capacity and condition. Question: the six propositions given above are the gate of the unborn, breaking one thing breaking everything; the twelve links of dependent origination are the gate of the unborn, establishing one thing establishing everything. The four propositions given even before that are the gate of the unborn, both breaking and establishing at once — should there not also be a fourth proposition, neither breaking nor establishing? Answer: the Nirvāṇa Sūtra, at the opening of its nineteenth fascicle, says: "The ten matters of merit are inconceivable, and the listener is astonished — neither difficult nor easy, neither within nor without, neither marked nor unmarked, neither square nor round, neither pointed nor slanted," and so on. This is exactly the textual sense of the fourth proposition, "neither breaking nor establishing."

Question: if the gate of the unborn gathers in every dharma, would there then be no further gates left at all? Answer: the gate of the unborn also gathers in every other gate, and every other gate also gathers in the gate of the unborn. It is simply for the sake of convenience, in terms of the virtue of wisdom, that it is named "the gate of the unborn." This should form four propositions: the gate of birth, the gate of the unborn, the gate of both birth and the unborn, and the gate of neither birth nor the unborn. Each and every one of these gates, in turn, has its own further four gates, four times four making sixteen gates in all. Following the convenience of the virtue of severance, there should likewise be the gate of extinction, the gate of non-extinction, the gate of both extinction and non-extinction, and the gate of neither extinction nor non-extinction — each and every one of these, too, having its own further four gates, four times four making sixteen gates in all. Combined, this makes thirty-two gates altogether. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra cites the fifteenth day's moon, its light waxing, as a simile precisely for the virtue of wisdom; and the sixteenth day's moon, its light waning, as a simile precisely for the virtue of severance. The moon itself neither waxes nor wanes — discussed in terms of its brightness, one speaks of waxing; discussed in terms of its darkness, one speaks of waning. The true mark of reality itself has neither wisdom nor severance — discussed in terms of illumination, one speaks of wisdom; discussed in terms of quiescence, one speaks of severance. Where the gate of the unborn gathers in every dharma to its very utmost height, this is the gate of the unborn gathering in every dharma vertically; where the gate of the unborn gathers in every dharma to its broadest extent, this is the gate of the unborn gathering in every dharma horizontally. Question: the gate is named "the unborn" — its object, its affliction, its wisdom, its severance, and the rest, ought then, every one, to be named "the unborn" as well. How, then, could it suddenly speak of "the unborn born," "born-born," and "birth with self-mastery"? Answer: this, too, only further helps to reveal the gate of the unborn. The forbearance of the unborn arising is hence called "the unborn born"; clarifying what it transforms is hence called "born-born"; clarifying its own responsive function is hence called "birth with self-mastery." This remains, throughout, the gate of the unborn: as the spit, it is hence called "the unborn"; as the breath, it is hence called "the unborn born," and so on — this only further reveals how thoroughly the gate of the unborn gathers in the comprehensive breaking-through of every dharma. This concludes the explanation of the sense of "gate" in terms of the Nirvāṇa Sūtra.

Next, clarifying comprehensively breaking through every dharma, this is threefold: first, the gate of the unborn, from beginning to end, reaching all the way to its very source and depths — breaking through every dharma comprehensively, vertically; second, passing through every gate of the Dharma, each gate in turn, from beginning to end, reaching all the way to its very source and depths — breaking through every dharma comprehensively, horizontally; third, the vertical and the horizontal as not two, from beginning to end, reaching all the way to its very source and depths — breaking through every dharma comprehensively, neither horizontally nor vertically. The vertical discusses height; the horizontal discusses breadth. The vertical, entering into the horizontal, finds nothing horizontal that is not also lofty; the horizontal, entering into the vertical, finds nothing vertical that is not also broad. The Lotus Sūtra says, "This carriage is both lofty and broad." The vertical and the horizontal as not two is thus neither horizontal nor vertical — hence it is said, "This dharma is equal throughout, with nothing higher, nothing lower." First, the gate of the unborn's own comprehensive breaking-through of every dharma is, again, threefold: first, comprehensively breaking through every dharma by entering emptiness from the provisional; second, comprehensively breaking through every dharma by entering the provisional from emptiness; third, taking both contemplations as expedient means, entering the middle way, the ultimate truth, comprehensively breaking through every dharma. These three contemplations, in reality, reside within a single mind — the dharma is sublime, difficult to explain, and so three are provisionally distinguished only to reveal the one. The Treatise says: "The three kinds of wisdom, in reality, reside within a single mind; spoken of to different people, in order to make it easier to understand, they are distributed among three persons." The Avataṃsaka Sūtra, too, carries two senses: proclaiming that the bodhisattva cultivates practice across many kalpas is spoken for those of dull faculty; that at the very moment of first giving rise to the resolve, correct awakening is already accomplished, this very wisdom-body requiring no awakening from another, is spoken for those of sharp faculty. The Lotus Sūtra carries only a single sense: "Directly and without deviation, casting aside every expedient means, it teaches only the unsurpassed path." Here, we shall borrow the distinct in order to reveal the total, raising a sequence in order to discuss what is, in fact, not sequential at all — and so these three senses shall first be explained in turn. Comprehensively breaking through every dharma by entering emptiness from the provisional is, again, threefold: first, entering emptiness from the provisional by way of the affliction of views; second, entering emptiness from the provisional by way of the affliction of habituated thought; and finally, a fourfold consideration of these four gates together. The first, entering emptiness from the provisional by way of the affliction of views, is, again, twofold: first, clarifying the affliction of views itself; second, clarifying the contemplation of emptiness. The affliction of views arises attached to the very substance of things, and is thereby able to obstruct that substance in turn — like a mirage that depends on empty space, and yet disturbs and confuses that very space; like a dream that arises because of sleep, and yet darkens that very sleep. If the dream is not stilled, one cannot awaken from the sleep; if this affliction is not removed, the substance cannot be revealed. And yet seeing is itself seeing principle — seeing the real is not, in itself, affliction at all. At the very moment principle is seen, this affliction is thereby severed; it takes its name from the understanding it obstructs, and so is named "the affliction of views." The affliction of views is of four kinds: first, the single fourfold view; second, the compound fourfold view; third, the complete fourfold view; fourth, the wordless view.

As for "the single fourfold view": clinging to existence, clinging to nonexistence, clinging to both existence and nonexistence, clinging to neither existence nor nonexistence. Within the single view of existence alone, sharp and dull further arise: holding that a self exists, this self bound up together with existence, ever giving rise to the mind of "I," corresponding to this "I" — this is precisely "the view of a self"; on account of conceiving of a self, "the extreme view" is thereby able to arise; on account of the view of a self and of extremes, breaking through the causation of both the mundane and the world-transcending, this is precisely "the deviant view"; clinging to this as the path, hoping thereby to reach nirvāṇa, this is named "clinging to precept and vow"; holding this to be real, and everything else mere idle talk, refusing to accept any other view, this is named "clinging to views"; that which belongs to oneself becomes "craving"; that which does not belong to oneself becomes "aversion"; that I understand while others do not gives rise to "pride"; failing to recognize the suffering and its origin contained within the view of existence is "delusion"; and lingering in indecision is "doubt." These ten proclivities, spread across the Four Noble Truths within the desire realm: under "suffering," all ten are complete; under "origin," seven are present, excluding the view of a self, the extreme view, and clinging to precept and vow; under "the path," eight are present, excluding the view of a self and the extreme view; under "cessation," seven are present, excluding the view of a self, the extreme view, and clinging to precept and vow — combined, this makes thirty-two proclivities. Spread across the Four Noble Truths within the form realm, there are twenty-eight; and it is exactly the same within the formless realm as well, excluding, by the same pattern, aversion alone. Combined, this makes eighty-eight proclivities in all. Each of the remaining three views likewise has its own eighty-eight proclivities. Spread across the sixty-two views, each and every view has its own eighty-eight proclivities — inverted waves spreading without measure, beyond all reckoning; the net of deviance grows ever denser, obstructing the very substance of principle.

There are worldly lecturers who claim: "Existence" is a view, but "nonexistence" is not a view; "both existence and nonexistence" is a view, but "neither existence nor nonexistence" is not a view. This claim contradicts the sūtras, and betrays the true sense of the mind. The sūtra says, "Relying upon these very views, there are sixty-two in full" — following this claimant's own explanation, the number would then fall short. The Middle Treatise refutes both self-nature and other-nature: existence is a self-nature; and, spoken in opposition to existence, nonexistence is an other-nature. If both existence and nonexistence are alike a "nature," why should nonexistence alone fail to be a view? And this "nonexistence," moreover, is not the nonexistence of one who has actually realized principle at all — how, then, could it possibly fail to be a view? Every heterodox path holds its own view of the primordial kalpa and its own view of the final kalpa, calculating in the slightest instant that this alone is real, and everything else mere idle talk — magnifying view, extending wrongdoing, the poison of "I" and "mine" growing ever more potent, seizing the very head, tearing out the very hair, constructing birth-and-death for oneself. Even Dīrghanakha, though he accepted no dharma whatsoever, still accepted the very fact of "not accepting," and so failed to recognize suffering and its origin — the Buddha, with a single rebuke, brought him to grief on both counts at once. Even the most exalted heterodox practitioners have still not escaped view — how, then, could those far more debased claim to be free of it through mere mistaken supposition? Here, this is all judged to belong to the single fourfold view. As for "the compound fourfold view": existence-of-existence, existence-of-nonexistence; nonexistence-of-existence, nonexistence-of-nonexistence; both-existence-and-nonexistence-of-existence, both-existence-and-nonexistence-of-nonexistence; neither-existence-nor-nonexistence-of-existence, neither-existence-nor-nonexistence-of-nonexistence. This is the compound fourfold view, and each and every one of these views is complete with its own eighty-eight proclivities. Spread across the sixty-two views, each and every view is, again, complete with its own eighty-eight proclivities, its own one hundred and eight, and so on, exactly as explained above. As for "the complete fourfold view": the view of existence complete with four means: existence-of-existence, existence-of-nonexistence, existence-of-both-existence-and-nonexistence, existence-of-neither-existence-nor-nonexistence. Nonexistence complete with four means: nonexistence-of-existence, nonexistence-of-nonexistence, nonexistence-of-both, nonexistence-of-neither. Both existence and nonexistence complete with four means: both-of-existence, both-of-nonexistence, both-of-both, both-of-neither. Neither existence nor nonexistence complete with four means: neither-of-existence, neither-of-nonexistence, neither-of-both, neither-of-neither. This is named the complete fourfold view. Each single proposition is complete with its own eighty-eight proclivities; spread across the sixty-two views in this way, each and every view is complete with its own eighty-eight proclivities, its own one hundred and eight, and so on, exactly as explained before. As for "the wordless view": beyond the single fourfold view, there is one further wordless view; beyond the compound fourfold view, there is one further wordless view; beyond the complete fourfold view, there is one further wordless view. Each and every one of these views, too, gives rise to its own eighty-eight proclivities, its own sixty-two views, its own one hundred and eight, and so on, exactly as explained before. Views of this kind, in every case, are given rise to in terms of the heterodox paths' own doctrines. And, discussed in terms of the Buddhadharma's own generation of views: the Tripiṭaka teaching's own four gates give rise to four views; the shared teaching's own four gates give rise to four views; the distinct teaching's own four gates give rise to four views; the perfect teaching's own four gates give rise to four views. And, beyond each single set of four gates, there is, in each case, a further wordless view. Within each and every one of these views, likewise, there arises its own eighty-eight proclivities, its own sixty-two views, its own one hundred and eight, and so on, exactly as explained before.

Furthermore, the affliction of views is not only named according to the understanding it obstructs — it should also be named according to its own very substance, called "the provisional." "Provisional" means false, deceptive, and inverted — this alone is why it is named "provisional." Following the same pattern as before, one should likewise speak of the single fourfold provisional, the compound fourfold provisional, and the complete fourfold provisional, each with its own further wordless provisional. In terms of the Buddhadharma, there are, further, sixteen kinds of the provisional, each explained exactly as before. And within each and every one of these provisional constructs, there are, further, three kinds of the provisional: the provisional of composite arising, the provisional of continuity, and the provisional of mutual relativity. A dharma-object meeting the mental faculty, giving rise to a single thought of mind, is the provisional of composite arising; the preceding thought and the following thought continuing on in sequence, unbroken, is the provisional of continuity; depending on some further absence of mind in order to know that this present mind exists is the provisional of mutual relativity. Of these, "composite arising" concerns the outward object and the inward faculty together; "continuity" concerns the inward faculty alone; "mutual relativity" depends, vertically, on the very absence that comes with cessation, and, horizontally, on the mindless state of the three kinds of the unconditioned. Kaishan says: "The third provisional carries within it both of the first two, and may even go beyond them." This clarifies that, at the moment the third provisional arises, it depends upon the first two already present — hence it is said to "carry within it"; and the earlier provisional constructs have not yet been removed when this later one arises in turn — hence it is said to "go beyond them." This explains the three provisional constructs in terms of the mind.

Furthermore, discussed in terms of form, the three provisional constructs are as follows: a former life's own karmic practice, entrusted to father and mother, gives rise to this present body — this is the provisional of composite arising; continuing on from the womb all the way to white-haired old age — this is the provisional of continuity; the body depending on what is not the body — this is the provisional of mutual relativity. Discussed, further, in terms of the dependent retribution of one's own surroundings, the same three provisional constructs are likewise complete: as when the four subtle elements form a pillar; as the seasons change while continuity remains unbroken; as this pillar depends on what is not a pillar, on long or short, large or small, and the rest. This is the threefold provisional applied to phenomenal matters as given in the Tripiṭaka's own sūtras, explained in detail by the treatise-masters. Yet this same term is used generally, not confined to the Hīnayāna alone — the Mahāyāna, too, names its own threefold provisional. Attached to and arising from ignorance, like an illusion, like a phantom, having only a name, in reality unfindable at all: even the four subtle elements that compose the mirror's own reflection cannot ultimately be found — how much less, then, the illusory pillar they compose? If even the pillar itself cannot be found, how much less, then, its own "continuity" traced across the seasons, or its own "mutual relativity" of illusory length and shortness? Citing what is easy in order to illustrate what is difficult, this clarifies the ten similes. "Form is itself already emptiness; it is not that form is extinguished into emptiness" — this is exactly that same sense. This is named the Mahāyāna's own threefold provisional, discussed in terms of principle. The Treatise, further, clarifies three kinds of existence: relative existence, provisional-name existence, and dharma-existence. As for "relative existence": long exists because of short, and short, too, exists because of long; and it is exactly the same for this and that. Of a single object, moving eastward makes it "west," while being in the west makes it "east" — the object itself has not changed at all, and yet there is a distinction between "east" and "west." Having the name without the substance — this is relative existence. As for "provisional-name existence": as with the color, scent, flavor, and texture of yogurt — these four matters, coming together through causes and conditions, are provisionally named "yogurt." Though it exists, it does not exist in the same way that the causes and conditions themselves exist; though it does not exist, it is not nonexistent the way a rabbit's horn or a turtle's fur is nonexistent — it exists only because causes and conditions have come together, and this is provisionally named "yogurt." Further, as with the most minute color, scent, flavor, and texture: on their account there is fine hair; on account of the fine hair there is down; on account of the down there is felt; on account of the felt there is a garment — this is provisional-name existence. As for "dharma-existence": this is precisely color, scent, flavor, and texture, the four subtle elements combined together, hence named "dharma-existence."

The Treatise, further, speaks of "the three provisional establishments" — how do these relate to the three provisional constructs? Answer: their distinct senses shall not be discussed separately here; here, they shall simply be reconciled together in general. The provisional establishment of dharma is like "composite arising"; the provisional establishment of reception is like "continuity"; the provisional establishment of name is like "mutual relativity." The Treatise says: "The five aggregates and the like are the very dharma of prajñapti." The five aggregates coming together is hence named "sentient being"; just as root, stem, branch, and leaf together give the name "tree" — this is "the prajñapti of reception." Using this very name to grasp the mark of these two dharmas, and speaking of these two kinds, is "the prajñapti of name." Hence it is known that the sense of the threefold provisional is the same throughout. The Yingluo Sūtra, too, contains this same threefold provisional in its own text. The Larger Sūtra says: "With a condition present, thought arises; without a condition, thought does not arise" — this is exactly the sense of "composite arising." The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: "It is like the recitation of a text: though it ceases, thought after thought, it is nonetheless still able to proceed from one Āgama to the next; it is like eating and drinking: though these, too, cease, thought after thought, one is still able to go from hunger at the start to fullness at the end" — this is the sense of "continuity." The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says: "Teaching the Dharma depends on nothing else at all, since not a single thought remains fixed" — one should know that the terms of the threefold provisional are used generally across both the lesser and the great vehicles alike, and it is not only the Hīnayāna that names the dharma of birth-and-death as "view" and as "the provisional" — as already explained, the Mahāyāna, too, names birth-and-death as "view" and as "the provisional" in exactly the same way. This means: the Tripiṭaka teaching's own four gates give rise to four views, and each and every view is complete with the threefold provisional, the sixty-two views, the one hundred and eight afflictions, and so on. The shared teaching's own four gates give rise to four views, each and every view complete with the threefold provisional, the sixty-two views, the one hundred and eight afflictions, and the rest. The distinct teaching's own four gates give rise to four views, complete in exactly the same way. The perfect teaching's own four gates give rise to four views, complete in exactly the same way as well. The Tathāgata's own gate of teaching shows people a dharma free of contention — for one who digests it, it becomes ambrosia; for one who fails to digest it, it becomes poison. Truthful words become deceptive words, giving rise to "the view of language" itself — and this is exactly why, across these four gates and sixteen gates, view arises, and the provisional arises, in every case.

Here it is exactly the same: for the sake of the dull-faculty practitioner, the single and compound views are broken through at length, all the way to the wordless view — using, throughout, Nāgārjuna's own fourfold refutation to break through and exhaust them entirely. Should a single thought of mind arise, it is already complete with the threefold provisional, exactly as explained above. One should contemplate this single thought: does it arise from the mind itself, generating mind? Does it arise facing a sense-object, generating mind? Does it arise from faculty and object together, generating mind? Or does it arise apart from both faculty and object, generating mind? If the mind arises from itself: the preceding thought would be the faculty, and the following thought the consciousness — does mind, then, arise from the faculty, or arise from the consciousness? If the faculty is able to generate consciousness, does the faculty generate consciousness because it already possesses consciousness, or because it lacks consciousness? If the faculty already possesses consciousness, then faculty and consciousness stand together already, with no agent or object of generation left at all; if the faculty, lacking consciousness, is still able to generate consciousness, then every object lacking consciousness ought to be able to generate consciousness as well — and since the faculty already lacks consciousness, how could it possibly generate consciousness at all? Should one say the faculty, though lacking consciousness, still possesses the nature of consciousness, and so is able to generate it — is this very nature of consciousness existent, or nonexistent? If existent, it is already consciousness itself, already present within the faculty — what, then, would there be left to call a mere "nature"? If the faculty lacks the nature of consciousness, it cannot generate consciousness at all. And is this nature of consciousness the same as consciousness, or different from it? If the same, this nature is itself already consciousness, with no agent or object of generation; if different, this is once again generation from another, not the mind generating itself. Examined in this way, one comes, in the end, to know that mind does not arise from itself. Should one say that mind does not arise from itself, but that a sense-object comes and stimulates the mind, and so mind arises — citing the sūtra's own words: "With a condition present, thought arises; without a condition, thought does not arise." If this is so, then the sense-object, existing outside the mental faculty, comes to stimulate the inward consciousness, and mind thereby arises from another. Now examine this sense-object: does it generate mind because it is itself already mind, or because it is not mind at all? If the sense-object is itself already mind, it could not properly be called a "sense-object" at all, nor could it exist outside the mental faculty — and this would then be the same as generation from itself. And, further, two minds standing together would leave no agent or object of generation either. If the sense-object is not mind at all, how could it possibly generate mind? — refuted exactly as before. Should there instead be some nature of generation present within the sense-object, and mind thereby generated on that account — is this nature existent, or nonexistent? If this nature is existent, then this nature stands together with the sense-object already, with no agent or object of generation either; if nonexistent, then nonexistence cannot generate anything at all. Examined in this way, one comes to know that mind, in the end, does not arise from the sense-object.

Should mind arise because faculty and object come together — does it arise because each already individually possesses mind, or because each individually lacks mind? If each already individually possesses mind, then their coming together would generate two minds, falling into the fault of both self-generation and other-generation at once; if each individually lacks mind, then even their coming together would still lack mind as well. It is like a mirror and a face: does the reflected image arise because each already individually possesses an image, or because each individually lacks one? If each already possesses an image, there ought to be two images; if each lacks one, their coming together cannot generate one either. If the mirror and the face come together as one and thereby generate the image, then, in reality, they have not actually come together at all — for were they to truly come together, there would be no image at all; and if the image instead arises because the mirror and the face remain apart, each in its own separate place, then an image ought to appear even so — yet, in reality, this is not the case at all. The faculty and the sense-object, coming together or remaining apart, may be examined in exactly the same way. Examined thus, one comes to know that mind, in the end, does not arise from their coming together either. And should one say that faculty and object each already possess the nature of mind, so that mind arises once they come together — one should examine whether this nature is existent or nonexistent, refuted exactly as before. Should mind arise because faculty and object remain apart from one another — this would be generation without any cause or condition at all: does this "apartness" itself exist, or not? If this apartness exists, it, too, arises from some condition — how, then, could it truly be called "apartness" at all? If this apartness does not exist, then nonexistence cannot generate anything either. Should one say this apartness itself possesses some nature — is this nature existent, or nonexistent? If this nature is existent, it, too, arises from some condition, and so could not properly be named "apartness" at all; if this nature is nonexistent, then nonexistence cannot generate anything either. Examined in this way, one comes to know that mind, in the end, does not arise from apartness either. The Middle Treatise says: "No dharma arises from itself, nor from another, nor from both together, nor without any cause at all — this is exactly why it is said to be unborn." This is precisely that same sense. Having thus examined all four propositions of the provisional of composite arising and found that arising cannot be found through any of them, one's grasping at any fixed nature grows correspondingly thin — there remains only a bare name, called "the mind's own arising." This name resides neither within, nor without, nor in between; nor does it exist constantly, of itself, either. This word does not remain fixed — and its very not remaining fixed cannot be pinned down through any of the four propositions either; nor is it, on the other hand, "not remaining fixed" in some fixed sense, since this too cannot be pinned down through any of the four propositions. Hence the mind, which abides nowhere at all, though it carries the mere name "mind," is, in that very name, already empty. Where the four propositions examine this nature and find no nature to be seen, this is the conventional truth breaking through this nature, also named "the emptiness of nature"; where the four propositions examine this name and find no name to be seen, this is the real truth breaking through this provisional construct, also named "the emptiness of the mark." Nature and mark both alike empty — this is the general contemplation of entering emptiness from the provisional. Hence the Middle Treatise says, "No dharma arises from itself" — using contemplation in this way accords exactly with the Middle Treatise's own intent. Where the faculty is examined and mind cannot be found, this is "inward emptiness"; where the sense-object is examined and no mind is found, this is "outward emptiness"; where faculty and object combined are examined and nothing is found, this is "emptiness both inward and outward"; where apartness is examined and nothing is found, this is "the emptiness of emptiness itself"; where the four natures are examined and none is found, this is "the emptiness of nature"; where the four propositions are examined and nothing is found, this is "the emptiness of the mark"; where the sense-object is examined and found to lack any of the ten directions, this is "great emptiness"; where the very utmost is sought and cannot be found, this is "the emptiness of ultimate meaning"; where the four propositions of causation cannot be found, this is "the emptiness of the conditioned"; and since the unconditioned is spoken of only in relation to the conditioned, once the conditioned itself cannot be found, the unconditioned, too, cannot be found — this is "the emptiness of the unconditioned"; where the four propositions seek the very origin of the mind's own arising and cannot find it, this is "the emptiness without beginning"; where the four propositions seek the mind's own ceasing and cannot find it, this is "the emptiness of dispersal"; where the four propositions seek both the arising and the ceasing of mind and can find neither, nor can they find any "neither arising nor ceasing" either, this is "ultimate emptiness"; since the three realms have no separate dharma, being created by the single mind alone, and this very mind, sought after, cannot be found, this is "the emptiness of everything"; contemplating mind and finding no mind, contemplating emptiness and finding no emptiness either, this is "the emptiness of attaining nothing"; contemplating the threefold provisional of the view of existence and finding it unfindable, this is "the emptiness of what has existence as a dharma"; contemplating the threefold provisional of the view of nonexistence and finding it unfindable, this is "the emptiness of what has nonexistence as a dharma"; and contemplating the threefold provisional of the view of both existence and nonexistence and finding it unfindable, this is "the emptiness of both existence-as-dharma and nonexistence-as-dharma." Contemplating in this way accords exactly with the Larger Sūtra's own intent — this, then, is the eighteen kinds of contemplation of entering emptiness from the provisional.

Should one not yet awaken through this, one turns instead to breaking through the provisional of continuity. Why is this? Because though the four propositions of composite arising fail to find any generated mind, one now, in fact, still sees the mind arising and ceasing, thought after thought, in unbroken continuity — how, then, could this be called "unborn"? This continuity, thought after thought — does the preceding thought cease and the following thought arise? Does the preceding thought not cease, and the following thought arise regardless? Does the preceding thought both cease and not cease, and the following thought arise? Or does the preceding thought neither cease nor not cease, and the following thought arise? If the preceding thought does not cease and the following thought arises: this would be thought generating thought by itself, two acts of generation standing side by side, with no agent or object of generation either. Should the preceding thought possess some nature of generation, generating the following thought thereby — is this nature existent, or nonexistent? If existent, it is no longer merely a "nature" at all; if nonexistent, then nonexistence cannot generate anything, refuted as before. If the preceding thought ceases and the following thought arises: the preceding thought's own not-ceasing-and-generating would be named self-nature; but here, since it is generation through ceasing, ceasing set against not-ceasing — is this not, then, other-nature instead? Within this "other-nature's" own ceasing, does generation occur because generation is present, or because generation is absent? If generation is present, this is already generation — and generation contradicts ceasing, so this would simply be generation-generating, not what could properly be called ceasing-generating at all. If generation is absent in this ceasing, then absence cannot generate anything either. Should this ceasing possess some nature of generation, this nature is refuted exactly as before. If the preceding thought both ceases and does not cease, and the following thought arises thereby: insofar as it ceases, this already belongs to ceasing; insofar as it does not cease, this already belongs to not-ceasing; and if not-ceasing combines with ceasing to generate, this is simply co-generation — but co-generation already contradicts itself internally, so how could contradiction itself generate anything at all? And further, should each individually already possess generation, this incurs two faults at once; should each individually lack generation, their combination, too, fails to generate. Should this "both ceasing and not-ceasing" possess some nature of generation — is it existent, or nonexistent? If this nature is fixedly existent, how could it still be called "both ceasing and not-ceasing" at all? If this nature is fixedly nonexistent, how, too, could it be called "both ceasing and not-ceasing"? This cannot escape the fault of either annihilationism or eternalism, and falls back once more into the fault of co-generation. If the preceding thought neither ceases nor does not cease, and the following mind arises thereby: does this "neither ceasing nor not-ceasing" exist, or not? If it exists, this is no longer generation without a cause at all; if it does not exist, then a nonexistent cause cannot generate anything. Should this nonexistent cause possess some nature of generation, this nature is itself already the cause — so how could this still be called "without a cause"? And if it does not exist, then nonexistence cannot generate anything either. Examining the provisional of continuity by means of these four propositions in this way, generation is nowhere to be found. Since none of the four natures is real, one's grasping at mind grows correspondingly thin, leaving only the bare name "mind." This name resides neither within, nor without, nor in between the two; nor does it exist constantly, of itself, either. Continuity possessing no fixed nature is the conventional truth breaking through this nature, named "the emptiness of nature"; continuity possessing no fixed name is the real truth breaking through this provisional construct, named "the emptiness of the mark." Nature and mark both alike empty, and so on, up through the eighteen kinds of emptiness, exactly as explained before. This is named "the contemplation of entering emptiness from the provisional."

Should one not yet enter through this either, one still supposes there to be a mind depending on a mindless state, and so the affliction of mutual relativity arises — differing in this way from what came before. Composite arising took faculty and object, the two dharmas combined, as its own basis; continuity took the mental faculty alone, before and after, as its own basis. Continuity, considered against arising and ceasing, is a particular kind of cessation — a particular cessation is thus narrow in scope. Here, the provisional of mutual relativity depends instead on cessation in general, and this sense is thereby broader. "Cessation in general" refers to the three kinds of the unconditioned: though not, every one of them, strictly cessation, they nonetheless amount to the unborn. Depending on the unborn state of empty space in order to speak of mind's own arising is precisely the provisional of mutual relativity. Since the earlier two provisional constructs were not yet awakened through, and this present affliction arises further, depending on those earlier afflictions, this is said to "carry within it" what came before; and since those earlier provisional constructs still remain even as this one arises in addition, this is said to "go beyond them." Further, "carrying within it" means: the unborn dharma-object, depending on the mental faculty to arise, is itself already composite arising; and the provisional mind built upon this, continuing on in relation to it, is itself already continuity — hence it is said to "carry within it." "Going beyond them" means: the earlier two provisional constructs did not give rise to affliction in relation to cessation in general, while this one now arises precisely in relation to that general cessation — is this not, then, "going beyond them"? Though this explanation differs from the earlier account, it borrows that same language to show the mark of the provisional of mutual relativity here. Now examine this mind: does it arise depending on the unborn state? Does it arise depending on some existent state of birth? Does it arise depending on both birth and the unborn at once? Or does it arise depending on neither birth nor non-birth? If mind arises depending on the unborn state: does this unborn state exist, or not? If there is some birth for it to depend upon, this is once again depending on existence — how, then, could it be called "depending on the unborn"? Existence depending on existence is simply self-generation. If this unborn state does not exist, then there is nothing at all for it to depend upon. Should mind be said to arise simply depending on this very absence of birth, then every instance of absence whatsoever ought to generate mind as well. Nonexistence, set against existence, is itself already generation from another. And should this unborn state, though itself nonexistent, still possess some nature of generation, and mind is thereby known to exist by depending on this very nature — has this nature already generated, or not yet generated? If it has already generated, this is already generation itself — what, then, would be left to call a mere "nature"? If this nature has not yet generated, how could what has not yet generated possibly generate anything at all? If mind arises depending on some existent birth: generation would then depend on generation, just as length depends on length — but there is no such thing as length depending on length, so how could mind possibly arise this way? If mind arises depending on birth as set against the unborn, this is like length depending on shortness in order to be called "long" — this falls into two faults at once: should each already individually possess this, two acts of generation would stand together; should each individually lack it, nothing at all could be found, exactly as before. If mind arises depending on what is neither birth nor the unborn: the Treatise says, "Generation from causes and conditions is already untenable — how much more, then, generation without any cause or condition at all?" And is this absence of cause itself existent, or nonexistent? If existent, this is once again depending on existence; if nonexistent, this is once again depending on nonexistence — how, then, could it be called "without a cause" at all? Should one say it possesses some nature — is this nature existent, or nonexistent? If this nature is existent, does it generate, or not? If it generates, this is already generation itself — what, then, is left to call a "nature"? If it does not generate, how could it possibly generate anything at all? Examining the provisional of mutual relativity by means of these four propositions in this way, the mind's own arising cannot be found; one's grasping at mind grows correspondingly thin, no fixed nature arising at all, leaving only the bare name. This name's own "arising" is, in its very arising, not truly arising at all. This word resides neither within, nor without, nor in between; nor does it exist constantly, of itself, either — this word has nothing whatsoever to it. Seeking this nature and finding it unobtainable, the conventional truth breaks through this nature — this is named "the emptiness of nature." Seeking this name and finding it unobtainable, the real truth breaks through this provisional construct — this is named "the emptiness of the mark." Furthermore, seeking the aggregates, entries, and elements within this nature and mark and finding them unobtainable, this is "the emptiness of dharmas"; seeking the knowledge and view of a person or a self within this nature and mark and finding them unobtainable, this is named "the emptiness of sentient beings" — and so on, up through the eighteen kinds of emptiness, exactly as explained before. This is named "entering emptiness from the provisional," the eye of wisdom thereby opened, seeing the ultimate truth directly. Not only is the affliction of the threefold provisional belonging to the view of existence removed — every affliction of view whatsoever becomes, without exception, pure, and correct wisdom manifests before one. This is the gate of the unborn penetrating through to calming-and-contemplation, and is likewise calming-and-contemplation accomplishing the gate of the unborn. Should one not yet awaken through this, one should skillfully apply calming-and-contemplation to break through the affliction of views with skill, the practitioner of faith and the practitioner of dharma each turning about accordingly, forming the expedient path, subduing the view of existence — every boundless affliction is thereby, entirely, subdued. Because it is thus subdued, this is named "wholesome, contaminated aggregates." Because it is subdued, the view of existence no longer arises, and one passes over into the calculation belonging to the view of nonexistence instead, to be refuted below.

The reason breaking through view depends on hearing or reflection is not fixed. Should a person of superior faculty hear this teaching on generation, know that generation is itself unborn, break through their own attachment, and awaken thereby — good. A person of middling faculty, whose attachment is comparatively light, forms the expedient path of subduing views, wholesome and contaminated aggregates. A person of inferior faculty, whose attachment runs heavy, still clings and grasps — hearing that generation, once broken through, cannot be found, they take "the unborn" itself to be real, and give rise to a further view of the unborn instead. This, too, must be refuted, both in general and in particular. As for the general refutation: the Larger Sūtra says, "Consciousness of the unborn cannot ultimately be found — how much less, then, consciousness of the born?" And also: "Consciousness of the born cannot ultimately be found — how much less, then, consciousness of the unborn?" Both the born and the unborn alike cannot ultimately be found. The Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, too, refutes the view of the unborn at length. Yet the principle of the unborn is not something ordinary consciousness can know at all — how, then, could it be reduced to mere sentiment? Casting aside existence only to cling to nonexistence is like an inchworm, or like a monkey swinging from branch to branch — one should not falsely cling to this view either. This is the general refutation.

As for the particular refutation: a practitioner uses calming-and-contemplation to break through the threefold provisional of composite arising, failing to find nature or mark, and dissolves entirely into concentration, seeing neither within nor without, with neither before nor after, no mark set against any other. Abiding quiescent in concentration, or suddenly forgetting body and mind entirely, everything utterly purified, one thereby gives rise to this mindless state, supposing oneself to have attained the calming-and-contemplation of the unborn, concentration and wisdom already accomplished — and thereupon gives rise to attachment to this very view. Clinging to this notion of emptiness, the buddhas cannot transform such a person. Why can they not transform them? Because this contemplation of the mind, in its own calculation, has merely brought forth a fraction of subtle concentration, giving rise to a fraction of understanding of emptiness — this is simply a dharma-object of emptiness-as-view corresponding with the mind, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the true unborn at all. The Treatise distinguishes the heterodox path's own contemplation of emptiness from the Buddhadharma's own — how, then, do they differ? The heterodox path craves and clings to the wisdom of contemplating emptiness — this is exactly that same dharma-object of emptiness brought forth just now, taken to be nirvāṇa. Since there is thereby still one who contemplates, this contemplator becomes, in turn, the view of a substantial self; and on account of this view of a self, the ten proclivities, sharp and dull alike, and their full eighty-eight, are present as well, birth-and-death spreading out vast, exactly as explained before. Every fault of this kind arises entirely from this dharma-object of emptiness, obstructing the real and losing the path — how could this possibly accord with nirvāṇa at all? This is named the heterodox path's own contemplation of emptiness. Should the Buddha's own disciple, contemplating the unborn, give rise to a mind of emptiness, the very moment this mind of emptiness arises, one should recognize it at once as craving. Why is this? "Arising" is itself already named the dharma of craving; the dharma of craving is itself already ignorance; ignorance gives rise to the view of a self and its full eighty-eight proclivities, each and every one already complete with the affliction of the threefold provisional — and so one never, in the end, clings to this as the true unborn at all. How, then, does the threefold provisional apply here? Simply because the threefold provisional belonging to the view of existence, already discussed above, has been subdued, and one has passed over into the view of nonexistence instead. The unborn dharma-object meeting the mental faculty, a single thought of empty mind arising, is precisely composite arising; the mind of generation having ceased, the mind of the unborn arising in its place, is continuity; and this sudden unborn state, depending on some existent state of generation, is mutual relativity. One should examine this very arising of the mind of the unborn: does it arise from the mental faculty? From the dharma-object? From their combination? Or apart from both? If it arises from the mental faculty: does it arise from the faculty itself, or from consciousness? If from the faculty, does it arise because the faculty already contains consciousness, or because it lacks consciousness? If the faculty already contains consciousness, is this "the faculty," or "not the faculty"? If consciousness is itself the faculty, there is no agent or object of generation left; if the faculty lacks consciousness, how could it possibly generate consciousness at all? Should the faculty possess some nature capable of generating consciousness, is this nature existent, or nonexistent? If existent, is this nature of consciousness the same as consciousness, or different from it? If the same, this nature is itself already consciousness; if different, how could something different possibly generate anything at all? Examining self-generation in this way, mind cannot be found — exactly as explained above in full. Should the unborn mind arise on account of the dharma-object instead: does this dharma-object already possess mind, or not? If it already possesses mind, there is no agent or object of generation; if it lacks mind, then lack cannot generate anything. And is this dharma-object the same as mind, or different from it? If the same, there is no agent or object; if different, it cannot generate anything either. Examining generation from another in this way, mind cannot be found — exactly as explained above in full. Should the mind of the unborn arise because faculty and object combine, this incurs the same two faults already explained above. And should the mind of the unborn arise apart from both faculty and object — generation from a cause and condition is already untenable, how much more, then, generation without any cause at all, exactly as before. One should know that the mind of the unborn arises neither from itself, nor from another, nor from both together, nor apart from both — lacking all four natures; and lacking these four natures, this is named "the emptiness of nature." The emptiness of nature is itself the absence of any fixed mind, and yet, spoken of as "mind," this remains only a bare name. This name resides neither within nor without — this is named "the emptiness of the mark." And so on, up through the eighteen kinds of emptiness, exactly as explained above. This is entering emptiness from the provisional, seeing the ultimate truth directly. Not only is the affliction belonging to the view of nonexistence broken through — every affliction above and every obstruction below is, without exception, removed, and correct wisdom is attained. Should one not yet be free of it, one should diligently and skillfully apply calming-and-contemplation, the practitioner of faith and the practitioner of dharma each turning about accordingly, forming the expedient path, subduing suffering and its origin — every one of the eighty-eight proclivities belonging to the aggregates, entries, and elements is thereby, entirely, subdued. Because it is subdued, this is named "wholesome and contaminated." Through the power of this diligent cultivation, the provisional belonging to the view of nonexistence no longer arises, and one passes over into the provisional belonging to both existence and nonexistence together, to be refuted below.

Next, as for breaking through the threefold provisional belonging to the view of both existence and nonexistence: a practitioner, having skillfully applied calming-and-contemplation to subdue the affliction of the view of nonexistence, no longer gives rise to that provisional construct at all. Yet should a further fraction of concentration and wisdom advance, suddenly bringing forth a view of both existence and nonexistence together, corresponding with the mind, one might at once suppose: "If there is truly no mind at all, who could know the unborn? The unborn is itself nonexistence — and yet the very knowing of it is itself existence." The very moment this thought arises, one receives this as the view of both existence and nonexistence, holding it to be real, clinging to it firmly, unable to let it go, unaware of its own faults. It is like Dīrghanakha, who supposed himself already to possess the path, when this was, in reality, still suffering and its origin — simply because he failed to recognize it as such. The Buddha, with a single pointed remark, brought him to awakening at once. One who gives rise to this view is exactly the same: confused by the very poison of this view, failing to recognize what is truly correct — yet, upon hearing it pointed out, the grasping mind dissolves at a stroke. How is it pointed out? The Larger Sūtra holds that none of the five kinds of reception are truly received — how, then, could you receive this dharma-object of both existence and nonexistence as real? Is this not itself already the aggregate of feeling? Taking hold of this very image, applying this dharma, discriminating this dharma — the four aggregates are already, vividly, present. Feeling and perception of this kind are both named defilement, and this view depends upon the aggregate of form as well. And the mental faculty receiving this dharma-object of both existence and nonexistence is itself already the element; faculty and object interacting is itself already the entry. This, then, is suffering. Further, that "I" am able to act, able to receive, able to know this provisionally named dharma at once gives rise to "the view of a self"; once the view of a self has arisen, "the extreme view" follows; sweeping aside cause and effect is "the deviant view"; taking this to be the path is "clinging to precept and vow"; taking it to be nirvāṇa is "clinging to views"; opposition brings "aversion," accord brings "delight," my own understanding against another's ignorance gives rise to "pride"; failing to recognize suffering and its origin is "delusion"; and, afterward, great "doubt" follows. These ten proclivities, spread across the three realms, complete in their full eighty-eight, running contrary to the real path and according instead with birth-and-death, all arise, entirely, from within this very mind holding the view of both existence and nonexistence. And this view-mind, too, is already complete with the threefold provisional, understood by the same pattern as before. Breaking through this view's own threefold provisional now, one uses, once again, the same four propositions — each and every one to be understood by the same pattern as before. Having thus broken through it, the threefold provisional and the four propositions, the aggregates and entries, are all, alike, without any real nature — this is "the emptiness of nature"; having only a bare name, and this name itself already empty, this is named "the emptiness of the mark." Nature and mark both already empty, and so on, up through the eighteen kinds of emptiness, exactly as explained above — this is entering the ultimate truth directly, correct wisdom manifesting before one. Should one not yet enter through this, one should skillfully apply the siddhāntas, the practitioner of faith and the practitioner of dharma each turning about accordingly, skillfully cultivating calming-and-contemplation, subduing every view, forming the expedient path, a wholesome, contaminated dharma. Though the view of both existence and nonexistence is thus subdued and no longer arises, one still passes over into the view of neither existence nor nonexistence, to be refuted below.

Next, as for breaking through the view of neither existence nor nonexistence: having diligently applied expedient means above to subdue the views of both existence and of both existence-and-nonexistence together, one suddenly gives rise to a further mind free of both existence and nonexistence. Why is this? If the mind were fixedly existent, it could not be made nonexistent; if the mind were fixedly nonexistent, it could not be made existent — how, then, could it be called "both existence and nonexistence" at all? If it is not fixedly existent, it is thus not-existent; if it is not fixedly nonexistent, it is thus not-nonexistent. "Not-existent" means unborn; "not-nonexistent" means unceasing. Emerging beyond the very surface of existence and nonexistence, this is named "the middle way," and accords with the Middle Treatise. Why is this? The earlier view of existence is the dharma arisen through causes and conditions; the view of nonexistence is precisely this same dharma as empty; the view of both existence and nonexistence is precisely this same dharma as provisional; and this present view is precisely this same dharma as the middle. Clinging firmly to this mind, taking it to be real, such a person is thereby able to give rise to boundless faults. Why is this? In holding this mind to be real, one takes false speech for true speech, giving rise to "the view of language" itself, and so it is not truly real at all. Were it truly real, this mind ought to be permanent, blissful, possessed of a self, and pure. Yet this mind arises and ceases, and so is not permanent; it is itself received, and so is not bliss; it lacks self-mastery, and so is without a self; it is defiled, and so is not pure. Since the mind of "I" arises here, this is "the view of a self"; the view of a self, whether of existence or nonexistence, still fails to escape being "neither existence nor nonexistence," like an inchworm's own motion — this is named "the extreme view"; holding the view of neither existence nor nonexistence to be the middle way, penetrating through every instance of birth-and-death, is a foolish, deluded theory, mistaking what is not the path for the very word "path" itself — this is named "clinging to precept and vow"; holding this mind of neither existence nor nonexistence to be nirvāṇa, complete with the sharp and dull proclivities of the aggregates, entries, and elements, is named "clinging to views"; holding neither existence nor nonexistence to be the true Dharma thereby sweeps aside every mundane causation, and so is named "not-existence"; and sweeps aside every world-transcending causation as well, and so is named "not-nonexistence." Breaking through right view and right deportment already fails even to meet the standard of mundane reasoning — how, then, could it possibly meet the standard of world-transcending reasoning? "Better to give rise to the view of a self as vast as Mount Sumeru than to wrongly grasp at emptiness" — taking what is not correct to be correct is named "the deviant view." According with it and praising it becomes "craving"; opposing it and reviling it becomes "aversion"; failing to recognize this mind as both a poisonous weed and a healing herb at once becomes "delusion"; presuming upon oneself and looking down on others becomes "pride"; and, afterward, great "doubt" follows. In brief, there are ten such faults; in full, they cannot be exhausted. Faults of this kind, in every case, issue from this very mind holding the view of neither existence nor nonexistence. And each and every one of these faults, too, is complete with the threefold provisional, exactly as explained before. Should one break through this view's own threefold provisional, one uses, once again, the same four propositions of calming-and-contemplation, pursuing and breaking through it exactly as explained before.

Furthermore, pointing out the five aggregates within every view shows their suffering; pointing out the ten proclivities shows their origin; using calming-and-contemplation to break through them shows the path; and views, whether subdued or entirely absent, show their cessation. Every heterodox path's own deviant understanding, and the Buddhadharma's own mistaken calculation, however boundless their faults may be, are all broken through by means of the Four Noble Truths, and there is not one that fails to transform the ordinary into the sage. If even the Buddha's own first teaching of the Āgamas' Four Noble Truths already carries this much power, how much more, then, the Mahāyāna's own three kinds of Four Noble Truths — what could they possibly fail to break through? Once the view of neither existence nor nonexistence is broken through, every affliction whatsoever is likewise severed and destroyed, and correct wisdom arises. This is entering emptiness from the provisional, seeing the ultimate truth directly. Should one not yet enter through this, one should apply calming-and-contemplation, the practitioner of faith and the practitioner of dharma each turning about accordingly, skillfully following the four accommodations, cultivating through expedient means, subduing the affliction of every view — one's grasping mind grows correspondingly thin, abiding in the expedient path, forming a wholesome, contaminated dharma. This view no longer arising, one passes over into the wordless view, to be refuted below. The reason every view's own faults are explained, section by section, in such careful detail, is to instruct the practitioner earnestly, so that in contemplating the mind, one may clearly recognize the poisonous weed and clearly understand the healing herb alike. Grasping this sense, one will never, in the end, calculate mistakenly. Though these sections may seem tedious, each in turn remains distinct and unconfused with the rest. One who is able to fully grasp this may be spoken with about the path; but one who remains obstinately blind — how could such a person ever come to recognize milk at all?

Next, as for breaking through the threefold provisional belonging to the wordless view: should one have already broken through as described above, one may advance further, giving rise to concentration and wisdom, suddenly bright and still. And yet a further, different understanding arises: "The instant 'this' exists, birth-and-death exists; all four propositions are themselves provisional, false and unreal — the true principle lies beyond words altogether, and only what cuts off all four propositions is truly the unborn." Yet in claiming to have emerged beyond the four propositions, one has not, in reality, emerged from them at all. There are, in brief, three kinds of "beyond the four propositions": beyond the single fourfold, beyond the compound fourfold, and beyond the complete fourfold. Should one claim that principle lies beyond words in this way, this is merely emerging beyond the single fourfold proposition — it has not yet emerged beyond even the second proposition of the compound view, nor even the first proposition of the complete view. Hence it is known that the net of views is dense and thick, difficult indeed to escape from. The Lotus Sūtra says: "Goblins and spirits are present everywhere." The compound and complete views, each and every one, likewise carry their own threefold provisional and their own suffering and origin; the contemplation that breaks through this provisional is, in every case, exactly as explained above. Should a person be able to cultivate the branches of the path with regard to every view, they ought to attain awakening section by section, entering emptiness from the provisional and seeing the ultimate truth directly. Should one not yet enter through this, the single, compound, and complete views, every one, are all subdued, forming wholesome, contaminated aggregates, this view no longer able to arise — and one may advance further still, giving rise to some further meditative understanding. And, further, claiming to have emerged beyond the single, compound, and complete fourfold propositions altogether, the path of words cut off, the sphere of the mind's own activity extinguished, dissolved into utter purity — this, one supposes, is the path of the unborn, beyond all words. Yet a calculation of this kind is, itself, still nothing more than the very view of "the unspeakable, beyond words" — what does this have to do with the true path at all? To claim, in vain, to be beyond words, while words are, in the end, never actually cut off at all — why is this? Because depending on "not cut off" in order to discuss "cut off" means that "cut off" is, itself, still a form of dependence; and where dependence and its counterpart both still arise, one ought not to speak of anything truly "cut off" at all. It is like trying to flee empty space itself — how could there possibly be any escaping it? And, examined vertically, this "cutting off" proves not truly cut off either: since the mind itself is not truly cut off, this wordless view still gives rise to every causation of birth-and-death in full — how, then, could it be called truly "cut off" at all?

Every section given above carries both a horizontal and a vertical refutation. Within a single view of existence, this is the horizontal refutation; layering the four views one upon another, this is the vertical refutation. The provisional of composite arising is the horizontal refutation; the provisional of continuity is the vertical refutation; the provisional of mutual relativity is both horizontal and vertical at once; and the general refutation is neither horizontal nor vertical. What has come so far has, for the most part, been simply the horizontal refutation — here, the vertical refutation shall now be given. You cling to the mind as existent; existence is itself already birth — what kind of birth, exactly, is yours? Is it the birth of the five methods for stilling the mind, of the general and specific foundations of mindfulness, of warmth, summit, forbearance, and the supreme worldly dharma? Is it the birth of the forbearance of suffering, true clarity? Is it the birth of repeated reflection and consideration? Is it the birth of dry wisdom, resembling the path? Is it the birth of the eight-fold seeing of the truth? Is it the birth of one who has vowed to sustain residual habituation while sporting in spiritual powers? Is it the birth of the three grades of worthy, subduing the path, resembling understanding? Is it the birth of the ten grades of sage, true understanding? Is it the birth of the iron wheel, resembling the path? Is it the birth of the bronze wheel, the true path? Or is it the birth of self-mastery pervading the entire dharma-realm? Examining your own clinging mind against every one of these kinds of birth, not the slightest trace of any of them is to be found — and yet you claim this is not a view? What, then, could possibly be a view, if not this? Should one instead calculate the mind as unborn, "unborn" is itself already a form of non-birth — what kind of non-birth, exactly, is yours? Is it the non-birth of views? Of habituated thought? Of habitual tendencies? Of dust-and-sand afflictions? Of ignorance? Of karma? Of retribution? Of formations? Of principle itself? People of the world say "unborn is itself the Buddha" — but this speaks only of the Dharma-body buddha alone. Here, this saying shall be explained as referring to all three buddha-bodies at once: principle's own non-birth is the Dharma-body buddha; ignorance's own non-birth is the reward-body buddha; and the non-birth of dust-and-sand afflictions, views, and habituated thought is the response-body buddha. Or, alternatively: ignorance's own non-birth is the Dharma-body buddha; the non-birth of views and habituated thought is the reward-body buddha; and the non-birth of dust-and-sand afflictions is the response-body buddha. Or, again: the non-birth of karmic practice and stage is the response-body buddha; the non-birth of the karma of wisdom is the reward-body buddha; and the non-birth of principle itself is the Dharma-body buddha. Further, the response-body buddha arises from the conditioning cause; the reward-body buddha arises from the illuminating cause; the Dharma-body buddha arises from the correct cause. The birth of these three buddha-bodies is itself already the unborn; and the unborn is itself already the birth of these three buddha-bodies. "Should one hear the gate of the letter a, one thereby understands every sense whatsoever" — how, then, could one form only a single, narrow understanding of it? A sharp hoe, breaking the ground, reaches straight down to the vajra layer beneath; hearing of a single non-birth, one understands the non-birth of the entire dharma-realm throughout. Weighing every kind of non-birth against your own clinging mind, not the slightest trace of any of them is truly present — and if this is not a view, what, then, could possibly be a view?

There was a person who challenged the Middle Treatise's own phrase "neither born nor ceasing" as failing to grasp the profound principle at all. Why so? Affliction is itself the dharma of birth; the three marks passing away is itself the dharma of cessation — simply saying "not this birth, not this cessation" is named "neither born nor ceasing." But this is merely entering emptiness, without seeing the sense of the middle at all. The Middle Treatise's own commentators explain: "'Neither born nor ceasing' means not-not-born, not-not-ceasing, thereby revealing the middle way." This explanation supports the middle, and yet damages the text and loses its true sense. Why is this? Nāgārjuna's own intent embraces both the shared and the distinct teachings at once, and this is exactly why he says "neither born nor ceasing." "Not born" means not the birth of the twenty-five states of existence; "not ceasing" means not the cessation of the three marks passing away — able thereby to break through the twenty kinds of the view of a substantial self, accomplishing stream-entry all the way through to the state beyond further training. Is this not, then, extending both the shared teaching's own sense, and also the Tripiṭaka teaching's own sense at once? Both birth and cessation belong properly to birth alone; nirvāṇa, mere emptiness, belongs properly to quiescent extinction alone. "Not this birth, not this cessation" obstructs both extremes at once — is this not, then, embracing the distinct teaching's own sense as well? If birth and cessation are dharmas arisen through causes and conditions, they are thereby empty, provisional, and the middle, all at once: being empty, hence unborn; being provisional, hence unceasing; and being neither born nor ceasing is itself already the middle way. Examined against the text, this explanation embraces two teachings, includes a third, and reveals the middle — all four senses vividly present at once. Nāgārjuna's own skill, using this single phrase "neither born nor ceasing," gathers in every dharma broadly, thereby according with the Mahāyāna itself. Should one merely part the lips and move the tongue, repeating this same phoenix-like sound; or take up the brush and dip it in ink, adding one further dotted character — grasping only a single sense while losing all three gates entirely. Hanging on a wart, attaching an excrescence — though one wishes thereby to supplement and assist, this only results, instead, in further loss. Here, explaining this single phrase "unborn," how could it possibly be confined to only four senses? Let ten senses of "non-birth" and "non-non-birth" be briefly set out. First: every dharma can be broken, can be destroyed; every word of it can be turned about; neither existent nor nonexistent, cut off from words, apart from every phrase. Not a single dharma entering the mind at all is "one non-birth"; and this non-birth, too, not itself born, is named "non-non-birth." Though sentiment supposes this to be non-birth, it is, in reality, still birth after all — like the state of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, which claims to be free of perception, and yet still accomplishes a subtle perception all the same. This is the "non-non-birth" of the heterodox path's own deviant view. Second: the followers of Vātsīputrīya calculate that the self resides within a fifth, inexpressible category — this is "one non-birth"; and this non-birth, too, not itself born, is named "non-non-birth." Should the Tripiṭaka teaching's own two lesser vehicles sever the views and habituated thought of the three realms, one non-not-seeing and one non-not-thinking, this is named "non-non-birth" — and yet habitual tendency still remains. Should the Tripiṭaka teaching's own buddha have both correct affliction and habitual tendency alike exhausted, this is named "non-non-birth" — one non-not-correct, one non-not-habituated, hence it is said, "non-non-birth." This is the "non-non-birth" of the method of analysis. As for the shared teaching: embodying that views are, at root, unborn, and embodying that habituated thought is, at root, unborn, this too is said to be "non-non-birth." The Sūtra of Resolving Doubts says, "I myself have, within the unborn and the unconditioned, still attained a realization thereof." The two lesser vehicles, though embodying views and habituated thought as unborn, still retain habitual tendency; the shared teaching's own buddha, sitting at the very seat of enlightenment, has both correct affliction and habitual tendency exhausted alike, and this, too, is "non-non-birth" — though this is merely the "non-non-birth" of segmented birth-and-death alone. As for the distinct-teaching practitioner: severing the affliction shared with the shared teaching and the affliction distinct to this teaching alone, one non-not-shared and one non-not-distinct, this is named "non-non-birth" — this is the "non-non-birth" of a single portion, a single grade, or two grades, with the portion above still unborn in the fuller sense. Should the distinct teaching's own buddha have this portion above exhausted as well, this is named "non-non-birth" — though this, too, remains merely a provisional, expedient account of "non-non-birth." As for the perfect-teaching practitioner: one non-not-shared, one non-not-distinct, this too is named "non-non-birth" — and yet this still abides at the causal stage, with the practice, wisdom, and reward of the higher stages still yet to be born. Only once the sublime awakening's own wisdom is fully complete does that wisdom no longer arise at all; ignorance ultimately exhausted, affliction no longer arises at all; practice, wisdom, reward, and the rest, ultimately, are non-non-birth in the fullest sense. Further, because the real principle itself reaches its very utmost, this is "one non-birth"; and because the perfect principle itself reaches its very utmost, this, too, is "one non-birth." And further, principle, at its very root, is fundamentally unborn — and now, too, is non-non-born. Whether one speaks in terms of the single "unborn," every dharma is thereby gathered in entirely, exactly as explained above; or whether one speaks in terms of "non-non-born," every dharma is likewise gathered in entirely. Where, exactly, does your own "unborn" reach its limit? Where, exactly, does your own "non-non-born" reach its limit? Such a person does not even recognize the heterodox path's own "non-non-birth" — how much less, then, the very furthest and final "non-non-birth" of all? How, then, could this fail to be, itself, still a view? This must be broken through with all diligence.

The vertical refutation of the view of both existence and nonexistence, and of neither existence nor nonexistence, has already had its mark shown above, in the account of "the absolute, beyond all opposition" within the discussion of the bodhi-mind. Should one claim the mind is both born and not born, what kind of "both born and not born" is this, exactly? Is it the non-birth of views alongside the true birth of something else? The non-birth of habituated thought alongside true birth? The non-birth of habitual tendency alongside true birth? The non-birth of dust-and-sand afflictions alongside the birth of shared function? The non-birth of ignorance alongside the birth of the middle way? The non-birth of inward karma alongside the birth of outward karma? The non-birth of inward retribution alongside the birth of outward retribution? The non-birth of the lesser practice alongside the birth of the greater practice? The non-birth of partial principle alongside the birth of perfect principle — is this what is meant by "both born and not born"? If it is nothing of this kind, what, then, could it be, if not a view? Should one say the mind is neither born nor not born, what kind of "neither born nor not born" is this, exactly? Is it the analytical severance of the eternalist and annihilationist views, neither born nor not born? Is it the embodying severance of those same views, neither born nor not born? Is it the eighth ground's own dual flow of calming and contemplation, neither born nor not born? Is it the first ground's own breaking of birth-and-death and attainment of nirvāṇa, neither born nor not born? Is it the tenth ground's own final fruit, neither born nor not born? Is it the first abiding's own obstruction of both extremes at once, neither born nor not born? Is it the ten practices' own advance into the middle way, neither born nor not born? Is it the ten dedications, neither born nor not born? Is it the ten grounds, neither born nor not born? Or is it the very culminating stage of sublime awakening, neither born nor not born? Since it is none of these, what, then, could it be, if not a view?

As for "beyond words": there are many things called "beyond words" — what kind of "beyond words" is this, exactly? Beyond the single fourfold proposition is also called "beyond words"; beyond the compound and beyond the complete are likewise called "beyond words." As with the brahmin who takes the vow of muteness — this, too, is "beyond words"; and Dīrghanakha, accepting no dharma whatsoever — this, too, is "beyond words"; the followers of Vātsīputrīya say, "In the conventional truth there is a self, and this self resides within an inexpressible category" — this "inexpressible" is likewise "beyond words." The Tripiṭaka teaching's own entry into the real, realizing the truth, is also said to be inexpressible. Hence Śāriputra says, "I have heard that within liberation itself, there are no words at all." The Tripiṭaka teaching's own liberation has, in general, four gates of entry into the real, and so there are four kinds of "cannot be spoken"; the shared teaching's three vehicles, alike, use the wordless path to sever affliction, and so likewise have four gates of "cannot be spoken"; the distinct-teaching practitioner, contemplating the principle of eternal abiding, wordless and unspoken, likewise has four gates of "cannot be spoken"; and the perfect teaching, beyond all proclamation, as when Vimalakīrti sealed his own mouth shut and Mañjuśrī affirmed it, likewise has four gates of "cannot be spoken." "Cannot be spoken" is thus manifold indeed — what you yourself calculate as "cannot be spoken," which of these, exactly, is it? You do not even reach the followers of Vātsīputrīya's own "cannot be spoken" — how much less, then, the Tripiṭaka teaching's own fourfold "cannot be spoken"? Why is this? The followers of Vātsīputrīya hold "cannot be spoken" to be the conventional truth, not calculating it to be nirvāṇa itself; you, however, calculate it to be real — hence it is known you do not even reach their own standard. Even the followers of Vātsīputrīya are still caught in a view — how, then, could you possibly be free of one? On account of this very view, boundless affliction arises vast and wide, exactly as explained before. To refute "beyond words" once more still further: you suppose "beyond words" lies outside the four propositions — here, ten kinds of the four propositions shall be clarified; your own "beyond words," beyond which of these ten kinds of four propositions does it actually lie? The ten are: the general fourfold proposition; the boundless fourfold proposition; the fourfold proposition fixed by stage; the fourfold proposition nested by category; the fourfold proposition of attained awakening; the fourfold proposition of assigned belonging; the fourfold proposition of the provisional and the real; the fourfold proposition of opening and revealing; the fourfold proposition of missing the sense; and the fourfold proposition of grasping the sense. As for "the general fourfold proposition": both ordinary beings and sages alike, in general, discuss the four propositions — this sense may be understood easily. As for "the boundless fourfold proposition": four times four spreads out without limit or measure, as shown in its own mark among the forty-eight variants. As for "the fourfold proposition fixed by stage": a fourfold proposition with a fixed boundary, determining right from wrong — as with the single, compound, and complete views, dwelling in attachment without release, this is the ordinary being's own fourfold proposition; while taking the very absence of any fixed proposition as the proposition itself is the sage's own fourfold proposition. As for "the fourfold proposition nested by category": nesting the ordinary being's own fourfold proposition as the proposition of "existence"; nesting the two lesser vehicles as the proposition of "nonexistence"; nesting the bodhisattva as the proposition of "both existence and nonexistence"; and nesting the buddha as the proposition of "neither existence nor nonexistence." As for "the fourfold proposition of attained awakening": according with whichever proposition one enters through, this becomes the very gate of awakened entry — the four propositions thereby become four gates. As for "the fourfold proposition of assigned belonging": according with whichever gate one has awakened into, and whichever dharma one has entered, this is distinguished by dharma, belonging to the various gates of the Dharma accordingly. As for "the fourfold proposition of the provisional and the real": among the gates of the four propositions across every dharma, three of the four are provisional, and one of the four is real. As for "the fourfold proposition of opening and revealing": opening every one of the four propositions, all of them enter into the single, real fourfold proposition; and once one has entered this real fourfold proposition, none of it, in the end, can be spoken at all. The Buddha's own teaching of the four propositions reaches exactly this far. As for "the fourfold proposition of missing the sense": clinging to the Buddha's own four propositions and thereby giving rise to contention — a fault exactly the same as the ordinary being's own. As for "the fourfold proposition of grasping the sense": the bodhisattva, seeing the fault of missing the sense, composes treatises great and small, expounding the Buddha's own twin sets of four propositions, breaking through attachment and dispelling delusion — this yields the fourfold proposition of grasping the sense, and, once grasped, the very work of composing further treatises comes to rest. Should you still not be satisfied that this is, itself, a view of "beyond words," then, among all these various fourfold propositions given above, beyond which of them, exactly, do you claim principle to lie beyond words at all? What came before was the horizontal refutation of the four propositions; this, now, is the vertical refutation of "beyond words" itself, among the four propositions.

In the present age, there are many evil-demon monks who retreat from their precepts and return to lay life, fearing hardship and its urging, going even further than the Daoist priests they once surpassed. Seeking fame and gain besides, they boast of Zhuangzi and Laozi, stealing the sense of the Buddhadharma to give false comfort through heterodox texts — pressing down what is high and raising up what is low, demoting the honored and promoting the base, forcing them all into a false equality. Taking "the way that can be spoken of is not the constant way; the name that can be named is not the constant name," they equate this with the Buddhadharma's own inexpressibility — like a worm gnawing through wood that happens, by chance, to form the shape of a written character. Examined closely, the difference between the deviant and the correct is vast indeed — what fools believe, the wise mock and disdain. Why is this? As already explained above, of every kind of birth, every kind of non-birth, every one of the four propositions, and every "cannot be spoken" — you yourself have not even gone beyond the single fourfold proposition's own "cannot be spoken," how much less beyond the compound? How much less beyond the complete? How much less, even, the followers of Vātsīputrīya's own standard? Not even reaching the followers of Vātsīputrīya, how much less, then, the Tripiṭaka, shared, distinct, and perfect teachings themselves? The very root of every dharma's own principle, set against "the constant name" and "the constant way" — how could these possibly be made equal at all? Even compared merely at the level of doctrinal teaching, they already cannot be made equal — how much less, then, when examined against suffering and its origin, where every fault stands plainly exposed? How, then, could they possibly be made equal? And how much less still, when measured against the branches of the path — how could they possibly be made equal to the very essence of the true Dharma? Since their very roots are not equal, their traces, too, are not equal. The Buddha's own traces, life after life, belong properly to the true kṣatriya caste of India, the wheel-turning golden lineage; Zhuangzi and Laozi belong to Cīnasthāna, a small, peripheral kingdom, one a mere archivist beneath a pillar, the other a minor official at a lacquer garden in the state of Song — how could these possibly be made equal? The Buddha's own body is adorned with the thirty-two major marks and the eighty minor excellences; Zhuangzi's and Laozi's own bodies were like any ordinary person's, and an ordinary person's own form is puny, unsightly, and mean. A sūtra says: "The people of Jambudvīpa have a form and appearance like that of a hungry ghost" — how, then, could this be made equal to the Buddha? When the Buddha taught the Dharma, he radiated light and shook the very earth, gods and humans alike gathering together, folding their hands to listen to the teaching; speaking exactly to each capacity, his brahma-voice flowing like a stream, his eloquence inexhaustible. At the very moment his words fell, not a single one was spoken in vain, and every listener attained the path upon hearing it. Laozi, in the Zhou dynasty, was neither known by his own ruler above nor recognized by the officials below, and dared not utter a single word of remonstrance; he was unable to transform even a single person. Riding out on a battered wooden cart through the pass to the west, he secretly spoke his teaching to Yin Xi alone — what public glory was there in this at all? And the lacquer-garden official, dipping his brush to write on bamboo strips, editing phrase by phrase, correcting line by line, laboring as though hauling a heavy load — composing his Inner and Outer Chapters merely to admonish the eminent of his own day, who else heard it together with him? And who else, besides, ever attained the path through it? How, then, could this possibly be made equal to the Buddha's own teaching? Points of this kind, where the two cannot be made equal, are without limit — I am weary, and cannot enumerate them all. How, then, could the deviant possibly be allowed to intrude upon the correct in this way?

Furthermore, when the Tathāgata walked, Śakra stood at his right, Brahmā at his left, Vajrapāṇi leading the way before him, the fourfold assembly following behind — flying through the very sky as he walked. Laozi himself drove a thin wooden cart drawn by a black ox, heading west through the pass to till the fields; Zhuangzi was employed by another, watching over a lacquer plantation. Conduct of this kind — how, then, could it possibly be made equal to the Buddha's own? The Tathāgata was, by his very destiny, to become a wheel-turning sage-emperor, the four seas gazing up to him in reverence — yet, awaiting only the arrival of the divine treasures of that office, he cast aside this glorious rank all at once, left home, and attained buddhahood instead. Laozi served as a minor official in the eastern reaches of the Zhou, reluctant to give up even so small a post; he farmed the land to the west of the pass, cherishing his own few acres of field — busy with public and private affairs alike, unable to cast any of it aside. How, then, could this possibly be called equal to the Buddha? Only a blind person, without eyes of their own, could believe what you say; one possessed of wisdom would pity you, and find it strange indeed. Hence one should know: this "cannot be spoken" you claim as the wordless view is, itself, complete with the threefold provisional, suffering and its origin fully accomplished within it, birth-and-death vividly present — embracing a torch and thereby burning oneself, a matter deeply to be lamented! Should this view be broken through, it is exactly as already explained above.

Furthermore, a heterodox opponent may at times take "the way that can be spoken of is not the constant way" as an instance of "beyond words," using it to refute the Middle Treatise's own "neither born nor ceasing," claiming it to be a fourth proposition, "beyond words," surpassing all four propositions. On first hearing this claim, one might suppose it truly surpasses them — but the principle is not actually so. What is meant by "not born" is that the view-mind is not born; and, being not born, it is thus not ceasing either — hence it is said, "neither born nor ceasing." The view-mind of "beyond words" gives rise to every craving, view, doubt, and pride — how, then, could birth and cessation possibly be used to refute another's own genuine "neither born nor ceasing"? This is foolish idle discourse, and ought not to be indulged. A further question: what, then, of giving rise to the view "neither born nor ceasing" itself? Answer: there ought to be six propositions concerning this: "beyond words" refuting "neither born nor ceasing"; "neither born nor ceasing" refuting "beyond words"; "beyond words" cultivating "neither born nor ceasing"; "neither born nor ceasing" cultivating "beyond words"; "beyond words" as identical with "neither born nor ceasing"; and "neither born nor ceasing" as identical with "beyond words." Every ordinary being, not yet having ascended the sagely path, gives rise to calculation in the very slightest instant, and this is, in every case, already a view. Because of this view, the threefold provisional, suffering and its origin, and affliction all follow along in train; the fish-king and the cowrie-mother, every proclivity, are all complete within it; karmic bondage spreads like an overgrown thicket, and birth-and-death stretches out vast and wide. A single person's own journey through this is already without limit or boundary — how much more, then, that of many persons together? One should know that the affliction of views is profoundly to be feared, and diligently apply calming-and-contemplation to subdue and overcome it. Should a single view arise, one uses the four propositions of calming-and-contemplation to pursue and break through its very substance. Should one flee the single view only to enter the compound, flee the compound only to enter the complete, flee the complete only to enter the wordless view — with nowhere at all for it to arise unpursued, calming-and-contemplation follows it relentlessly, reaching it no matter how far it flees, ever quiescent, ever illuminating, treating it without rest. Like a vajra blade, whatever it is aimed at is severed at once — taking awakening itself as the very goal. Able to contemplate in this way, though the real may not yet be brought forth, every view is subdued, forming the expedient aggregates. Once one is able to enter emptiness, every view is dissolved entirely. Hence what is broken through at the first fruit is like exhausting a river forty leagues long — the labor involved is truly immense. Fearing the listener might grow doubtful at this: in brief, the three fetters are severed, though the remainder is not yet exhausted, like but a single drop of that water remaining. Though habituated thought is not yet exhausted, view itself is already left with nothing remaining. Speaking in terms of the greater portion accomplished, this, too, may be said to clarify comprehensively breaking through every dharma. Question: entering emptiness from the provisional breaks through boundless views — what, then, do the remaining two contemplations break through? Answer: the contemplation of entering emptiness breaks through both views and habituated thought, and, gathered together, this is simply breaking through existence; the following contemplation's own object of breaking-through is simply breaking through nonexistence; and the contemplation of the middle's own object of breaking-through is negating both extremes at once, directly revealing the middle way. Hence the Treatise says: "The two views of existence and nonexistence are extinguished without remainder — I bow my head before the Buddha's own honored Dharma." Hence it is known that every view, spread both horizontally and vertically, has still not even been broken through by the second contemplation yet — how, then, could it possibly be mistaken for the true Dharma itself? Question: birth-and-death is gathered together as "existence," and the two lesser vehicles are gathered together as "nonexistence." The view of existence, spread horizontally and vertically, is boundless — should not the view of nonexistence be equally so? Answer: the ordinary being's own false calculation clings at every point of contact, and this is exactly why "existence" is so manifold. The two lesser vehicles, having already severed views and habituated thought, no longer calculate wildly in this way, and simply realize emptiness alone — the Mahāyāna, in refuting this, names it simply "the view of emptiness."

Second, weighing gain and loss: Question: this calming-and-contemplation, pursuing every view in this way, what gain or loss results from it? Answer: this should be weighed through four propositions: first, the old affliction not removed, and a new affliction arising as well; second, the old affliction removed, yet a new affliction still arising; third, the old affliction not removed, yet no new affliction arising; fourth, the old affliction removed, and no new affliction arising either. First, it is like taking medicine: the old sickness is not cured, and the medicine itself becomes a further sickness. Second, the sickness being treated is cured, yet the medicine itself becomes a sickness. Third, though the sickness is not cured, the medicine at least causes no further harm. Fourth, the old sickness is cured, and the medicine, too, is set aside accordingly. The first two of these are the marks of gain and loss belonging to the heterodox path; the latter two are the marks of gain and loss belonging to the Buddha's own disciples. Why is this? Originally, calming-and-contemplation was applied to treat the affliction of birth-and-death, and yet the mind of covetous desire fails to rest at all — on account of this very calming-and-contemplation, further views instead arise, breaking through cause, breaking through fruit, leaving nothing undone — this, then, is "the old affliction not removed, and a new affliction arising further still." Second, while cultivating calming-and-contemplation, the dull afflictions of craving for clothing and food come to rest and no longer arise; one bears cold and hardship, the cutting of a blade or the anointing of perfume, alike, giving rise to neither hatred nor attachment; gain or loss of wealth and property, the mind remains equally undisturbed by either — and yet the mind clinging to view is profoundly to be feared. Like a thirsty horse guarding its own water, thrashing about and destroying everything, sweeping aside cause and effect entirely. This, then, is "the old affliction gone, and yet a new affliction arising." Both of these belong to the heterodox path — attachment arising where attachment already was, aversion arising where aversion already was. Should one who studies calming-and-contemplation fall into a pattern of this kind, one becomes exactly the same as that heterodox path. Third, the Buddha's own disciple, cultivating this calming-and-contemplation as the expedient path, deeply recognizing the causal conditions of view, craving, and ignorance — the very instant even the slightest thought arises, one knows it at once as the threefold provisional, calming-and-contemplation pursuing it relentlessly, breaking through both its nature and its mark. Though craving and aversion may still remain, the attachment of view is already hollowed out; the sixty-two views and the rest are subdued and no longer arise. This is named "the old affliction not removed, and yet no new affliction arising." This describes the person upon the expedient path. Fourth, should one be able to go further still, the threefold provisional and the four contemplations pursuing and examining every thought, embodying its falseness directly, nature and mark both alike empty, suddenly bringing forth the real, thereby seeing principle directly. Not only is "the old sickness forever removed, and no new sickness arises" — this is entering the path of seeing the truth directly, and becoming a sage.

Third, clarifying the stages of breaking through view: should one cultivate this method, clearly recognizing the Four Noble Truths, skillfully applying contemplative wisdom, and every view is thereby subdued — following the Tripiṭaka teaching's own account, this is the general and specific foundations of mindfulness, directly subduing the four inversions; once the four inversions no longer arise, warmth is thereby brought forth, forming the stage of expedient means and the rest; advancing further to break through every view, bringing forth the real and becoming a sage, this is precisely the stage of the first fruit. Following the shared teaching's own account of the stage of subduing view, this is the stage of dry wisdom; once the water of principle has moistened the mind, this becomes the stage of nature; and, advancing further to break through view, this is precisely the stage of the eight kinds of person, the stage of seeing the truth. Following the distinct teaching's own account of subduing view, this is the ten stages of faith, the iron wheel; breaking through view is the ten abidings, the bronze wheel. Following the perfect teaching's own account of subduing view, this is the stage of the five grades of disciple; breaking through view is the stage of the purification of the six faculties. Though the names "severance" and "subduing" are the same across these accounts, the contemplative wisdom involved differs enormously. The Tripiṭaka teaching contemplates the conceivable real truth, its contemplative wisdom subduing and severing through the method of analysis. The shared teaching likewise contemplates the conceivable real truth, its contemplative wisdom subduing and severing through the method of embodying. The distinct teaching, though it knows the middle way, subdues and severs through sequential contemplative wisdom. The perfect teaching, identical with the middle, subdues and severs through the single mind's own contemplative wisdom. One should not hear these shared names and thereby confuse their actual senses. Question: should one subdue the affliction of view and enter the stage of worthiness, though the old affliction is not yet fully cured, no new affliction ought to arise — how, then, could various view-related objects still arise while cultivating calming-and-contemplation? Answer: this is the arising of habituation from a former life. The view belonging to this former habituation is itself still the old affliction — like a person taking medicine, and the medicine striking against some dormant illness from before; once that dormant illness is thereby stirred, it is quickly cured of itself — this is not the medicine creating some new sickness at all. Question: why not directly clarify the distinct and perfect teachings' own stage of entering emptiness and breaking through the provisional, rather than clarifying the Tripiṭaka and shared teachings' own stage of entering emptiness instead? Answer: what was clarified above — cultivated arising, uncultivated arising, the mutual interaction of the ten objects, and the rest — was intended to show the practitioner the shallow and deep aspects of the Dharma, and this is exactly why these various stages were laid out in this order. It was, further, intended to clarify the stages of the half-word and the full-word teachings, so that the practitioner might recognize them clearly. And the half-word teaching's own method of entering emptiness is, in every case, itself already an auxiliary expedient means for the distinct and perfect teachings. It is, further, like having many servants and retainers in attendance and guard — this is exactly that same sense. And how, indeed, could there be some separate, truly real teaching apart from the expedient means themselves? This very half-word is itself already the full word. Hence it is said: "Whatever wisdom, whatever severance the two lesser vehicles attain is itself already the bodhisattva's own forbearance of the unborn dharma."

As for embodying the provisional and entering emptiness, thereby constituting the very sense of calming-and-contemplation itself: every view's own wheel comes to rest, this single attainment never regressing, forever quiescent — this is named "calming"; realizing that view has no fixed nature, empty in nature, empty in mark — this is named "contemplation." Seeing the principle of the real truth is named "unborn." Since principle itself is unborn, principle, too, is unceasing — and this is "neither born nor ceasing," named "the forbearance of the unborn." Further, the affliction of view no longer arising is named "the cause unborn"; no longer receiving the retribution of the three evil destinies is named "the fruit unborn." Cause and fruit both unborn, and likewise unceasing, neither born nor ceasing, is named "the forbearance of the unborn." This is the gate of the unborn penetrating through to calming-and-contemplation, and is likewise calming-and-contemplation accomplishing the gate of the unborn. Entering emptiness from the provisional, comprehensively breaking through the affliction of views, is hereby complete.