Motion, Seeing, and What a Person Is Made Of
Examining Motion — Examining the Six Elements觀去來品第二 — 觀六種品第五
Chapter 2 takes up walking, and finds that once you go looking for the going — in the stretch already covered, in the stretch not yet covered, or in the step being taken now — there is nothing to lay hold of, and no goer standing anywhere apart from it. Chapters 3 through 5 then turn the same instrument on the Abhidharma's careful inventory of the person and the world: the six senses that are supposed to do the seeing, the five aggregates a person is supposed to be made of, the six elements everything is supposed to be made of. The last of them takes empty space apart, and then closes with a warning about the readers this treatise was written for — those who look at anything at all and see only that it exists, or that it does not.
The Text
Chapter 2 · Examining Motion 觀去來品第二
Twenty-five verses on walking down a road. This is the most famous argument in the treatise and also the most misunderstood: readers who arrive expecting Zeno come away thinking Nāgārjuna has denied that anyone ever moves. He has not. What he denies is that "the going" can be located anywhere — in the ground already covered, in the ground not yet covered, or in some third stretch called "now" — and that a goer can be found who is not simply the going itself, described from another angle. The vocabulary is worth fixing before you start: 已去 the gone, 未去 the not-yet-gone, 去時 the going now, 去法 the act of going, 去者 the goer.
The Three Times
問曰：世間眼見三時有作：已去、未去、去時。以有作故，當知有諸法。
答曰：
Question: The world's own eyes see that there is activity in the three times: what has gone, what has not yet gone, and the going now. Because there is activity, one should know that things exist.
Answer:
已去無有去， 未去亦無去，
離已去未去， 去時亦無去。
In what has gone there is no going,
in what has not gone there is no going,
and apart from the gone and the not-yet-gone,
in the going now there is no going either.
已去無有去，已去故。若離去有去業，是事不然。未去亦無去，未有去法故。去時名半去半未去，不離已去、未去故。
In what has gone there is no going, because it has gone already. To have an act of going that stands apart from the going will not do. In what has not gone there is no going either, since the act of going is not there yet. And "the going now" means half gone and half not yet gone, since it is not separable from the gone and the not-yet-gone.
Take the argument literally and walk the road with it. Behind you is ground you have covered; ahead is ground you have not. Where, exactly, is the walking? Not behind you — that walking is finished, and finished walking is not walking. Not ahead of you — that walking has not started, and unstarted walking is not walking either. So we point at the present and say: there, the step being taken now. And the verse asks what that third stretch is made of. Anything you can point at is either ground you have crossed or ground you have not. "Now" is not a third piece of road.
Piṅgala's gloss is the plainest statement of the problem: 去時名半去半未去 — the going now is half gone and half not yet gone. It is not an independent item; it is the seam between two things that are themselves not going. Whatever thickness you give it, that thickness divides again into a covered part and an uncovered part, and neither part is the walking.
Now the correction that has to be made early, because everything else on this page depends on it. Nāgārjuna is not saying that nobody walks. Piṅgala never denies for a moment that people arrive places; a few pages on he will cheerfully grant that the eye sees going and staying, and answer only that the fleshly eye is not the arbiter here. What is being denied is that going is a findable thing, sitting somewhere, possessed by a walker who could in principle be separated from it. We talk as though there were a walker, and then a walking he takes up and puts down. Look for the join between them and there is no join. There is walking; there is not a walker plus his walking.
The Going Now
問曰：
Question:
動處則有去， 此中有去時，
非已去未去， 是故去時去。
Where there is movement there is going,
and in that there is the going now;
it is neither the gone nor the not-yet-gone,
and so the going now goes.
隨有作業處，是中應有去。眼見去時中有作業、已去中作業已滅、未去中未有作業，是故當知去時有去。
答曰：
Wherever there is activity, there going must be. One sees with one's own eyes that in the going now there is activity, that in the gone the activity has already ceased, and that in the not-yet-gone the activity is not there yet. Therefore one should know that in the going now there is going.
Answer:
云何於去時， 而當有去法？
若離於去法， 去時不可得。
How should there be, in the going now,
any act of going at all?
For once the act of going is set aside,
the going now cannot be found.
去時有去法，是事不然。何以故？離去法去時不可得。若離去法有去時者，應去時中有去，如器中有果。復次：
That the going now has an act of going in it will not do. Why? Because apart from the act of going the going now cannot be found. If there were a going-now apart from the act of going, then going would sit inside the going-now the way a fruit sits inside a bowl. Furthermore:
若言去時去， 是人則有咎；
離去有去時， 去時獨去故。
Whoever says the going now goes
has thereby fallen into fault:
there would be a going-now apart from going,
since the going now would go all on its own.
若謂已去未去中無去、去時實有去者，是人則有咎。若離去法有去時，則不相因待。何以故？若說去時有去，是則為二；而實不爾，是故不得言離去有去時。復次：
Whoever holds that there is no going in the gone and the not-yet-gone, but that in the going now there really is going, has fallen into fault. For if there were a going-now apart from the act of going, the two would not depend on each other. Why? Because to say the going now has going in it is to make two of them — and in fact it is not so. Therefore one cannot say there is a going-now apart from going. Furthermore:
若去時有去， 則有二種去：
一謂為去時， 二謂去時去。
If the going now has going in it,
then there are two goings:
the one that makes it a going-now,
and the going that the going-now does.
若謂去時有去，是則有過，所謂有二去：一者因去有去時；二者去時中有去。
問曰：若有二去，有何咎？
答曰：
If one holds that the going now has going in it, there is a fault, namely that there are two goings: first, the going on account of which there is a going-now at all; second, the going that is inside the going-now.
Question: If there are two goings, what is the fault?
Answer:
若有二去法， 則有二去者；
以離於去者， 去法不可得。
If there are two acts of going,
then there are two goers;
for apart from a goer
the act of going cannot be found.
若有二去法，則有二去者。何以故？因去法有去者故。一人有二去二去者，此則不然，是故去時亦無去。
問曰：離去者無去法，可爾。今三時中定有去者。
答曰：
If there are two acts of going, then there are two goers. Why? Because it is on account of the act of going that there is a goer at all. That one person should have two goings and two goers will not do; and therefore in the going now there is no going either.
Question: Granted that there is no act of going apart from a goer. Still, in the three times there is definitely a goer.
Answer:
若離於去者， 去法不可得；
以無去法故， 何得有去者？
If apart from a goer
the act of going cannot be found,
then, there being no act of going,
how is there to be a goer?
若離於去者，則去法不可得。今云何於無去法中言三時定有去者？復次：
If apart from a goer the act of going cannot be found, then how, where there is no act of going, can you say that in the three times there is definitely a goer? Furthermore:
Verse 5 is the hinge of the chapter and it turns on a point of grammar that English hides better than Chinese does. "The going now goes." Say it slowly. What is the subject doing? If "the going now" is already a stretch of going, then the verb has nothing left to add — you have said "the going goes," which is either empty or, taken seriously, describes a second going laid on top of the first. That is the two-goings fault: one going to make the stretch a going-stretch, and another for it to perform.
And two goings cost two goers, because in this text a goer is nothing but the one identified by an act of going. Verse 6 makes the price explicit and verse 7 collects it from the other side: no going, no goer; no goer, no going. Neither term can be set down first. That reciprocity is doing all the work here, and it is exactly the reciprocity of cause and fruit from Chapter 1 — a condition is established by its fruit, and a fruit by its condition, and neither is available on its own to get the pair started.
An English reader is likely to feel that something is being smuggled in, because in English we happily say "the runner runs" without imagining two runnings. Quite right — and that is the concession Nāgārjuna wants. "The runner runs" is a way of speaking, not a report of two items in contact. The moment you treat it as a report — a real runner over here, a real running over there, joined by a real doing — the sentence divides in your hands. The grammar of subject and verb is not a diagram of the world.
The Goer
去者則不去， 不去者不去；
離去不去者， 無第三去者。
A goer does not go,
a non-goer does not go,
and apart from goer and non-goer
there is no third one who goes.
無有去者。何以故？若有去者，則有二種：若去者、若不去者。若離是二，無第三去者。
問曰：若去者去，有何咎？
答曰：
There is no goer. Why? If there were a goer, he would be of one of two kinds: either a goer or a non-goer. And apart from these two there is no third goer.
Question: If a goer goes, what is the fault?
Answer:
若言去者去， 云何有此義？
若離於去法， 去者不可得。
If one says that a goer goes,
how can the words mean anything?
For once the act of going is set aside,
a goer cannot be found.
若謂定有去者用去法，是事不然。何以故？離去法，去者不可得故。若離去者定有去法，則去者能用去法；而實不爾。復次：
To hold that there is definitely a goer who makes use of the act of going will not do. Why? Because apart from the act of going a goer cannot be found. If there were definitely an act of going apart from the goer, then the goer could make use of the act of going — but in fact it is not so. Furthermore:
若去者有去， 則有二種去：
一謂去者去， 二謂去法去。
If the goer has a going,
then there are two goings:
the going that the goer does,
and the going that the act of going does.
若言去者用去法，則有二過，於一去者中而有二去：一以去法成去者、二以去者成去法。去者成已然後用去法，是事不然。是故先三時中謂定有去者用去法，是事不然。復次：
If you say the goer makes use of the act of going, two faults follow, since in a single goer there are two goings: first, the going by which the goer is established; second, the going that the goer establishes. That the goer should first be fully established and only then take up the act of going will not do. And therefore the earlier claim — that in the three times there is definitely a goer who makes use of the act of going — will not do. Furthermore:
若謂去者去， 是人則有咎，
離去有去者， 說去者有去。
Whoever holds that a goer goes
has thereby fallen into fault:
he sets up a goer apart from going,
and then says the goer has a going.
若人說去者能用去法，是人則有咎，離去法有去者。何以故？說去者用去法，是為先有去者後有去法。是事不然，是故三時中無有去者。復次，若決定有去、有去者，應有初發。而於三時中求發不可得。何以故？
Whoever says that the goer can make use of the act of going has fallen into fault, for he has a goer apart from the act of going. Why? To say that the goer makes use of the act of going is to have the goer first and the act of going afterward. That will not do; and therefore in the three times there is no goer. Furthermore, if there really were going and a goer, there would have to be an initial setting out — and setting out cannot be found by searching in the three times. Why?
Verse 8 is a small hinge that swings a large door. Anyone at all is either going or not going; there is no third condition. A non-goer plainly does not go. So the whole weight falls on "a goer goes" — and that sentence, verse 10 shows, has the same defect as "the going now goes." If "goer" already means one in whom going is present, the verb duplicates what the noun contained. If "goer" does not mean that, then you are pointing at somebody who is not going and saying he goes.
Piṅgala's formulation is the sharpest thing in the passage: 先有去者後有去法 — first the goer, afterward the going. That is exactly how we picture it. There is a person; then the person starts to walk. The person is the substantial item and the walking is something he acquires, like a coat. But this picture requires that before the walking begins there is already a goer standing there — a walker who is not walking, which is only a person. The name "goer" was borrowed from the walking, and here it is being spent before the walking has happened.
Notice how far this is from a paradox about instants. Nāgārjuna is not troubled by time; he is troubled by ownership. Every step of the argument attacks the same picture: a thing over here, an activity over there, and a relation of having between them. Take away the having and nothing has been subtracted from the world — the walk still gets walked. What has been subtracted is a diagram we were carrying, in which a self stands behind its doings the way a hand stands behind a glove.
Setting Out
已去中無發， 未去中無發，
去時中無發， 何處當有發？
In the gone there is no setting out,
in the not-yet-gone there is no setting out,
in the going now there is no setting out —
where then is setting out to be?
何以故三時中無發？
Why is there no setting out in the three times?
未發無去時， 亦無有已去，
是二應有發， 未去何有發？
無去無未去， 亦復無去時，
一切無有發， 何故而分別？
Before setting out there is no going-now,
and there is no gone either;
in those two the setting out would have to lie —
and how is there setting out in the not-yet-gone?
There is no gone, no not-yet-gone,
and no going-now either;
in none of them is there any setting out —
why then do you divide them up at all?
若人未發則無去時亦無已去；若有發當在二處：去時、已去中。二俱不然，未去時未有發故。未去中何有發？發無故無去，無去故無去者，何得有已去、未去、去時。
問曰：若無去、無去者，應有住、住者。答曰：
So long as a person has not set out there is no going-now and no gone. If there were a setting out, it would have to be in one of two places: in the going-now or in the gone. Neither will do — and in the not-yet-gone there is no setting out yet either. How should there be setting out in the not-yet-gone? Since there is no setting out there is no going; since there is no going there is no goer; and how then are there to be a gone, a not-yet-gone, and a going-now at all?
Question: If there is no going and no goer, then there must be staying and one who stays. Answer:
These three verses are the chapter's quietest and its most unsettling, because they attack the one place a reader will have been holding out. Everything so far has been about going that is under way. Fine, you may think — the trouble is with the middle of a walk; but there was a moment when I was standing still and then I started, and that moment is real enough. Verse 12 goes to find it.
Search the ground behind you: the setting out is not there, that road is walked. Search the ground ahead: not there either, nothing has begun. Search the going now: but the going now is defined as the stretch where walking is already occurring, and a start is precisely not the middle. Piṅgala boxes the objector in with two options and shuts both: the start, if anywhere, is in the going-now or the gone, and it is in neither.
What makes this more than a puzzle is the last line of verse 14, which is the only question in the chapter addressed to the reader rather than to a doctrine: 何故而分別 — why do you divide them up at all? The three times were never found; they were imposed. We lay a grid of gone, going, and to-go over an unbroken activity and then ask which cell contains the moving. The grid is ours. The walking was never in cells.
Staying
去者則不住， 不去者不住，
離去不去者， 何有第三住？
A goer does not stay,
a non-goer does not stay,
and apart from goer and non-goer
how should there be a third that stays?
若有住、有住者，應去者住、若不去者住。若離此二，應有第三住。是事不然。去者不住，去未息故，與去相違名為住。不去者亦不住。何以故？因去法滅故有住，無去則無住。離去者不去者，更無第三住者。若有第三住者，即在去者、不去者中。以是故，不得言去者住。復次：
If there were staying and one who stays, then either a goer stays or a non-goer stays; and apart from these two there would have to be a third that stays. None of it will do. A goer does not stay, since his going has not stopped — and what is contrary to going is precisely what we call staying. A non-goer does not stay either. Why? Because staying comes about through the ceasing of the act of going, and where there is no going there is no staying. Apart from goer and non-goer there is no third one who stays; and were there a third, he would be inside the goer or inside the non-goer already. For these reasons one cannot say that a goer stays. Furthermore:
去者若當住， 云何有此義？
若當離於去， 去者不可得。
If a goer were to stay,
how could the words mean anything?
For once he is apart from going,
a goer cannot be found.
汝謂去者住。是事不然。何以故。離去法，去者不可得。若去者在去相，云何當有住？去住相違故。復次：
You say that a goer stays. That will not do. Why? Apart from the act of going, a goer cannot be found. And if the goer stands under the mark of going, how is there to be any staying? Because going and staying are contraries. Furthermore:
去未去無住， 去時亦無住，
所有行止法， 皆同於去義。
In the gone and the not-yet-gone there is no staying,
nor is there staying in the going now;
and everything that continues or stops
comes to the same as the case of going.
若謂去者住，是人應在去時、已去、未去中住。三處皆無住，是故汝言去者有住，是則不然。如破去法、住法，行、止亦如是。行者，如從穀子相續至芽莖葉等。止者，穀子滅故芽莖葉滅。相續故名行，斷故名止。又如無明緣諸行乃至老死是名行，無明滅故諸行等滅是名止。
問曰：汝雖種種門破去去者、住住者，而眼見有去住。
答曰：肉眼所見不可信。若實有去去者，為以一法成？為以二法成？二俱有過。何以故？
If you hold that a goer stays, then that person would have to be staying in the going-now, or in the gone, or in the not-yet-gone. In none of the three places is there staying; and so your claim that a goer has staying will not do. And as going and staying have been broken, so are continuing and stopping. "Continuing" is the grain of seed carrying on into sprout, stalk, leaf and the rest. "Stopping" is sprout, stalk and leaf ceasing because the grain of seed has ceased. Because there is continuity it is called continuing; because there is a break it is called stopping. Again: ignorance conditioning the formations, on down to old age and death — this is called continuing; and the formations and the rest ceasing because ignorance has ceased — this is called stopping.
Question: Though you have broken going and the goer, staying and the one who stays, by every sort of approach, still one sees with one's own eyes that there is going and staying.
Answer: What the fleshly eye sees is not to be trusted. If going and a goer really existed, are they established as one thing or as two? Both carry faults. Why?
Standing still gets the same treatment as walking, and for a reason worth pausing on. Piṅgala's definition is the giveaway: 與去相違名為住 — staying is what is contrary to going. Rest is not an independent state with a nature of its own; it is defined by the absence of the very thing that was just shown to be unfindable. Knock out going and rest does not survive as the one solid thing left standing. It has nothing left to be the opposite of.
Then the last four characters of verse 17 quietly widen the whole chapter: 皆同於去義 — everything that continues or stops comes to the same. And Piṅgala's two examples are chosen with care. The first is the grain and the sprout from Chapter 1, now used for the pair continuing/stopping: the seed carries on into stalk and leaf, and the stalk and leaf end when the seed's line ends. The second is the twelve links of dependent arising — ignorance conditioning the formations, on down to old age and death, and the whole chain unwinding when ignorance ceases. That is not a side example. That is the Buddhist path itself, saṃsāra and its ending, and it is being handed the same analysis as a man walking down a road.
Which is where the objector finally loses patience and says the honest thing: but I can see people walking. Notice that Piṅgala does not reply that you cannot. He replies that the fleshly eye is not the authority on this question — not because sight lies about what happens, but because sight does not report on whether there is a findable going in what happens. It never did. Nothing you see settles the matter one way or the other, which is why the argument has to be conducted where it is being conducted.
One Thing or Two
去法即去者， 是事則不然；
去法異去者， 是事亦不然。
That the act of going is the goer —
this will not do;
that the act of going is other than the goer —
this will not do either.
若去法、去者一，是則不然，異亦不然。
問曰：一、異有何過？
答曰：
If the act of going and the goer are one, that will not do; and different will not do either.
Question: What fault is there in identity and in difference?
Answer:
若謂於去法， 即為是去者；
作者及作業， 是事則為一。
若謂於去法， 有異於去者；
離去者有去， 離去有去者。
If you hold that the act of going
just is the goer himself,
then the agent and the deed
turn out to be one and the same.
If you hold that the act of going
is other than the goer,
then there is going apart from a goer,
and a goer apart from going.
如是二俱有過。何以故？若去法即是去者，是則錯亂，破於因緣。因去有去者，因去者有去。又去名為法，去者名為人，人常法無常。若一者，則二俱應常、二俱無常。一中有如是等過。若異者則相違。未有去法應有去者，未有去者應有去法，不相因待，一法滅應一法在。異中有如是等過。復次：
Both carry faults in this way. Why? If the act of going just is the goer, everything is thrown into confusion and dependent arising is broken — for it is on account of going that there is a goer, and on account of the goer that there is going. Again, going is called a thing while the goer is called a person; and a person is held to be permanent, a thing impermanent. Were the two one, then both would have to be permanent or both impermanent. Faults of this kind lie in identity. And were they different, they would exclude each other: there would have to be a goer where there is as yet no act of going, and an act of going where there is as yet no goer, the two not depending on each other at all; and when the one ceased, the other ought to remain. Faults of this kind lie in difference. Furthermore:
去去者是二， 若一異法成，
二門俱不成， 云何當有成？
Going and the goer, these two,
must be established as identical or as different;
and since neither gate holds,
how are they to be established at all?
若去者、去法有，若以一法成、若以異法成，二俱不可得；先已說無第三法成。若謂有成，應說因緣。無去無去者，今當更說。
If goer and act of going exist, they are established either as identical or as different, and neither can be found; and it has already been said that there is no third way of establishing them. If you claim they are established, you should state by what cause and condition. There is no going and no goer. Now this will be said again.
Neither Definite nor Indefinite
因去知去者， 不能用是去；
先無有去法， 故無去者去。
The goer who is known by way of a going
cannot make use of that going;
the act of going was not there beforehand,
and so there is no going of a goer.
隨以何去法知去者？是去者不能用是去法。何以故？是去法未有時無有去者，亦無去時、已去、未去。如先有人、有城邑，得有所起。去法、去者則不然，去者因去法成，去法因去者成故。復次：
By whatever act of going a goer is known — that goer cannot make use of that act of going. Why? Because when that act of going is not yet there, there is no goer, and no going-now, no gone, no not-yet-gone. It is not as with a person and a town, which are there first, so that something can then be raised on them. Going and the goer are not like that, since the goer is established on account of the act of going and the act of going is established on account of the goer. Furthermore:
因去知去者， 不能用異去，
於一去者中， 不得二去故。
The goer who is known by way of a going
cannot make use of a different going,
because within a single goer
two goings cannot be found.
隨以何去法知去者，是去者不能用異去法。何以故？一去者中二去法不可得故。復次：
By whatever act of going a goer is known, that goer cannot make use of a different act of going. Why? Because two acts of going cannot be found in one goer. Furthermore:
決定有去者， 不能用三去；
不決定去者， 亦不用三去。
去法定不定， 去者不用三，
是故去去者， 所去處皆無。
A goer who definitely exists
cannot make use of the three goings;
a goer who does not definitely exist
makes no use of the three goings either.
Definite or indefinite, the act of going
is not used by the goer in any of the three;
and therefore going, and the goer,
and the place gone to are all of them absent.
決定者，名本實有，不因去法生。去法名身動。三種名未去、已去、去時。若決定有去者，離去法應有去者，不應有住，是故說決定有去者不能用三去。若去者不決定，不決定名本實無，以因去法得名去者，以無去法故不能用三去。因去法故有去者，若先無去法則無去者。云何言不決定去者用三去？如去者，去法亦如是。若先離去者決定有去法，則不因去者有去法，是故去者不能用三去法。若決定無去法，去者何所用？
如是思惟觀察，去法、去者、所去處，是法皆相因待。因去法有去者，因去者有去法，因是二法則有可去處，不得言定有、不得言定無，是故決定知，三法虛妄，空無所有，但有假名，如幻如化。
"Definite" means really existing from the start, not produced on account of the act of going. "The act of going" means the movement of the body. "The three" means the not-yet-gone, the gone, and the going-now. If there definitely were a goer, then there would be a goer apart from the act of going, and he ought never to stay; and this is why it is said that a goer who definitely exists cannot make use of the three goings. And if the goer is not definite — "not definite" meaning not really existing from the start, taking the name "goer" on account of the act of going — then, the act of going not being there, he cannot make use of the three goings. It is on account of the act of going that there is a goer; and if the act of going is not there first, there is no goer. How then can you say that a goer who is not definite makes use of the three goings? And as with the goer, so with the act of going. If, apart from the goer, there definitely were an act of going first, then the act of going would not be on account of the goer; and this is why the goer cannot make use of the three acts of going. And if there definitely is no act of going, what is left for the goer to use?
Examining and contemplating in this way: the act of going, the goer, and the place gone to — all of these depend upon one another. On account of the act of going there is a goer; on account of the goer there is an act of going; and on account of these two there is a place that can be gone to. One cannot say that they definitely exist, and one cannot say that they definitely do not exist. Therefore know for certain that these three are unreal, empty and without anything at all, having nothing but a borrowed name — like an illusion, like a conjuring.
The last four verses close the chapter with a dilemma that will be used again and again in this treatise, so it is worth learning here. Take the goer, and ask what kind of existence he has before the walking. If he is 決定 — definite, really there in his own right, not owing his existence to any walking — then he is a goer who is already complete without going, and Piṅgala's consequence is exact and slightly comic: he ought never to stay. A goer whose goer-ness is built in cannot stop being one; he must go on going, permanently. But if he is not definite — if he gets the name only from the walking — then before the walking there is nobody for the walking to belong to. Definite, and he needs no going; indefinite, and he has none. There is no third setting for the dial.
Then, in the final paragraph, the whole chapter's positive statement arrives, and it is easy to miss because it is over in a line: 不得言定有、不得言定無 — one cannot say they definitely exist, and one cannot say they definitely do not exist. This is the sentence to hold on to if the preceding twenty-five verses have left the impression that motion has been abolished. Nothing has been abolished. What has been refused is the demand that going, the goer, and the road be either solidly there or flatly absent. Piṅgala's word for what they are instead is 假名, a borrowed or provisional name — a designation that works, that gets people to where they are going, and that has nothing behind it answering to it one-to-one.
The last four characters are the image the chapter chooses to end on: 如幻如化, like an illusion, like a conjuring. A conjured elephant is not nothing — it is seen, it has a color, you can walk around it. It is also not what it appears to be, which is an elephant. That is the exact register Nāgārjuna wants for walking down a road, and it is worth carrying into the next three chapters, where the same treatment is given to seeing, to the parts of a person, and to the elements the world is supposedly built from. Chapter 24 will eventually put the guarantee under all of it: it is because of emptiness that everything is able to work at all.
Chapter 3 · Examining the Six Senses 觀六情品第三
Eight verses, and the target is now the Abhidharma's account of perception: six inner faculties (六情) meeting six outer objects (六塵), with awareness arising where they touch. Nāgārjuna takes only the first pair, the eye and visible form, and lets the other five stand or fall with it. The whole chapter turns on a question that sounds like a trick and is not: what exactly is the eye doing that we call "seeing," and where is that doing to be found?
問曰：經中說有六情，所謂：
Question: The scriptures say that there are six senses, namely:
眼耳及鼻舌、 身意等六情，
此眼等六情， 行色等六塵。
Eye and ear, and nose and tongue,
body and mind — these six senses;
and these six, the eye and the rest,
range over the six objects, form and the rest.
此中眼為內情、色為外塵，眼能見色，乃至意為內情、法為外塵，意能知法。
答曰：無也。何以故？
Here the eye is the inner sense and form the outer object, and the eye is able to see form; and so on down to the mind as the inner sense and things as the outer object, the mind being able to know things.
Answer: There are no such senses. Why?
是眼則不能， 自見其己體；
若不能自見， 云何見餘物？
This eye is not able
to see its own body;
and if it cannot see itself,
how is it to see anything else?
是眼不能見自體。何以故？如燈能自照亦能照他。眼若是見相，亦應自見亦應見他。而實不爾，是故偈中說「若眼不自見，何能見餘物？」
問曰：眼雖不能自見，而能見他。如火能燒他，不能自燒。
答曰：
This eye cannot see its own body. Why? A lamp is able to light itself and to light other things as well. If the eye were the mark of seeing, it too ought to see itself and to see others. But in fact it does not; and so the verse says, "If the eye does not see itself, how can it see anything else?"
Question: Though the eye cannot see itself, it can see other things — just as fire can burn other things but cannot burn itself.
Answer:
火喻則不能， 成於眼見法；
去未去去時， 已總答是事。
The simile of fire cannot
establish the eye's act of seeing;
the gone, the not-yet-gone, the going now —
that has already answered this in full.
汝雖作火喻，不能成眼見法。是事〈去來品〉中已答，如已去中無去、未去中無去、去時中無去；如已燒、未燒、燒時俱無有燒，如是已見、未見、見時俱無見相。復次：
Though you draw your simile from fire, it cannot establish the eye's act of seeing. This was already answered in the chapter Examining Motion: just as there is no going in the gone, no going in the not-yet-gone, and no going in the going-now, so there is no burning in the burnt, in the not-yet-burnt, or in the burning now; and in just this way there is no mark of seeing in the seen, in the not-yet-seen, or in the seeing now. Furthermore:
見若未見時， 則不名為見；
而言見能見， 是事則不然。
So long as seeing has not seen,
it is not called seeing at all;
and to say that seeing is what does the seeing —
this will not do.
眼未對色則不能見，爾時不名為見，因對色名為見。是故偈中說「未見時無見」，云何以見能見？復次二處俱無見法。何以故？
So long as the eye has not met with form it cannot see, and at that time it is not called seeing; it is on account of meeting form that it is called seeing. This is why the verse says, "When it has not yet seen there is no seeing." How then is seeing to do the seeing? Furthermore, in neither case is there any act of seeing. Why?
Verse 2 is often quoted as though it were a piece of cleverness — the eye can't see itself, therefore it can't see — and read that way it deserves the objection it gets. Read it instead as a question about what kind of thing "seeing" is supposed to be. The Abhidharma treats the eye faculty as a real item bearing a real property, the mark of seeing (見相): seeing is what this thing intrinsically does, the way heat is what fire intrinsically has. Piṅgala takes the analogy that would support this — a lamp, which lights whatever is around it and lights itself, so that its illuminating is genuinely its own — and points out that the eye fails the test. Whatever the eye has, it is not a property it exercises on its own account.
The objector's counter is the better analogy, and he knows it: fire burns other things without burning itself, and nobody doubts fire burns. The answer sends him back to Chapter 2, and this is the moment to notice that Chapter 2 was never really about walking. Its argument was portable. Divide the burning into burnt, not-yet-burnt, and burning-now, and the fire's burning goes missing exactly as the walker's walking did. Divide the seeing into seen, not-yet-seen, and seeing-now, and the same hole opens. The chapter on motion supplied a tool, and here it is being used on a different object for the first of many times.
Verse 4 then closes the trap from the other side, and this is the cleanest formulation of the problem anywhere in these four chapters. Before the eye meets a form, is there seeing? Piṅgala says plainly: at that time it is not called seeing — 因對色名為見, it is on account of the encounter with form that it earns the name. So "seeing" is not something the eye carries around and then applies to a form. It is the name of the meeting. Which means the sentence "seeing sees" has the identical defect as "the going now goes": the subject already contains the verb, and there is nothing left over to be the one doing the work.
見不能有見， 非見亦不見；
若已破於見， 則為破見者。
Seeing cannot have seeing,
and non-seeing does not see either;
and once seeing has been broken,
the seer is broken along with it.
見不能見，先已說過故。非見亦不見，無見相故。若無見相，云何能見？見法無故，見者亦無。何以故？若離見有見者，無眼者亦應以餘情見。若以見見，則見中有見相。見者無見相，是故偈中說「若已破於見，則為破見者。」復次：
Seeing cannot see, since the fault has already been stated. Non-seeing does not see either, since it has no mark of seeing; and having no mark of seeing, how should it see? Since there is no act of seeing, there is no seer either. Why? Because if there were a seer apart from seeing, then a person with no eyes ought to be able to see by way of the other senses. And if it is by seeing that one sees, then the mark of seeing lies in the seeing — the seer has no mark of seeing. This is why the verse says, "Once seeing has been broken, the seer is broken along with it." Furthermore:
離見不離見， 見者不可得；
以無見者故， 何有見可見？
Apart from seeing or not apart from it,
a seer cannot be found;
and since there is no seer,
how are there seeing and the seen?
若有見，見者則不成；若無見，見者亦不成。見者無故，云何有見可見？若無見者，誰能用見法分別外色？是故偈中說「以無見者故，何有見可見？」復次：
If there is seeing, the seer is not established; and if there is no seeing, the seer is not established either. Since there is no seer, how are there to be seeing and the seen? And if there is no seer, who is it that uses the act of seeing to sort out the forms outside? This is why the verse says, "Since there is no seer, how are there seeing and the seen?" Furthermore:
見可見無故， 識等四法無；
四取等諸緣， 云何當得有？
Since seeing and the seen are not there,
the four — consciousness and the rest — are not there;
and the four graspings and the other links,
how are they to come to be?
見、可見法無故，識、觸、受、愛四法皆無。以無愛等故，四取等十二因緣分亦無。復次：
Since seeing and the seen are not there, the four — consciousness, contact, feeling, and craving — are none of them there. And since craving and the rest are not there, the four kinds of grasping and the other links of the twelvefold dependent arising are not there either. Furthermore:
耳鼻舌身意， 聲及聞者等，
當知如是義， 皆同於上說。
Ear, nose, tongue, body, mind,
and sound, and the hearer, and the rest —
know that in this same sense
they are all as has been said above.
如見、可見法空，屬眾緣故無決定。餘耳等五情聲等五塵，當知亦同見可見法，義同故不別說。
Just as seeing and the seen are empty, belonging to a host of conditions and therefore not fixed, so the remaining five senses — the ear and the rest — and the remaining five objects — sound and the rest — are, you should know, exactly like seeing and the seen. Since the sense of it is the same, it is not stated separately.
The strongest thing in this half of the chapter is Piṅgala's one-line refutation of a seer who stands apart from seeing: if there were, a person with no eyes ought to be able to see through his other senses. The point is not a joke. If the seer is a genuinely separate item — a subject who possesses the eye and uses it — then he is not constituted by the eye, and there is no reason he could not do his seeing through some other channel when the eye is unavailable. That we find this absurd tells us we did not really believe in the separate seer. We only talked as though we did.
And then the same move from the other direction: if seeing is what does the work, then the mark of seeing is in the seeing, and there is nothing left for the seer to be marked by. The seer either duplicates the seeing or has no content at all. This is precisely the goer of Chapter 2 wearing different clothes, and readers should now be able to feel the pattern coming: any noun formed from a verb — goer, seer, knower, doer, burner — will be found to have borrowed everything it has from the verb, and to be empty of anything of its own.
Verse 7 is where the chapter stops being about optics, and it is easy to read past. Consciousness, contact, feeling, craving: those are links six through eight of the twelve links of dependent arising, and they are precisely the links that run through sense-experience. Grasping is the ninth. Pull out the pin at "seeing and the seen" and the chain that fastens a person into saṃsāra has nothing to hang from. This is not nihilism about experience; it is the reason the analysis is worth doing at all. What is being loosened is not the world but the hook by which the world catches.
One last thing to notice, because it recurs: Nāgārjuna examines the eye and then declines to examine the other five. 義同故不別說 — the sense is the same, so it is not stated separately. This is a text with no interest in completeness for its own sake. It gives you an instrument and expects you to use it.
Chapter 4 · Examining the Five Aggregates 觀五陰品第四
Nine verses on the five aggregates — form, feeling, perception, formations, consciousness — the list into which early Buddhism dissolved the self. Nāgārjuna examines only the first, form (色), and again lets the other four follow. His instrument is the relation between form and whatever causes form, and his image throughout is homely and exact: cloth and the thread it is woven from. The chapter ends somewhere unexpected, with two verses on how to argue at all — the treatise's first open statement that emptiness is not one position among others but the condition of any position being discussable.
問曰：經說有五陰。是事云何？
答曰：
Question: The scriptures say there are five aggregates. How does that stand?
Answer:
若離於色因， 色則不可得；
若當離於色， 色因不可得。
Apart from the cause of form,
form cannot be found;
and once apart from form,
the cause of form cannot be found.
色因者，如布因縷，除縷則無布，除布則無縷。布如色，縷如因。
問曰：若離色因有色，有何過？
答曰：
By "the cause of form" is meant, for instance, the thread that is the cloth's cause: take away the thread and there is no cloth, take away the cloth and there is no thread. The cloth is like form and the thread like its cause.
Question: If there were form apart from the cause of form, what fault would there be?
Answer:
離色因有色， 是色則無因；
無因而有法， 是事則不然。
Were there form apart from the cause of form,
that form would be without a cause;
and a thing existing without a cause —
this will not do.
如離縷有布，布則無因。無因而有法，世間所無有。
問曰：佛法、外道法、世間法中皆有無因法。佛法有三無為，無為常故無因。外道法中虛空、時、方、神、微塵、涅槃等。世間法虛空、時、方等。是三法無處不有故名為常，常故無因。汝何以說無因法世間所無？
答曰：此無因法但有言說，思惟分別則皆無。若法從因緣有，不應言無因。若無因緣，則如我說。
問曰：有二種因：一者作因、二者言說因。是無因法無作因，但有言說因，令人知故。
答曰：雖有言說因，是事不然。虛空如六種中破，餘事後當破。復次現事尚皆可破，何況微塵等不可見法？是故說無因法世間所無。
問曰：若離色有色因，有何過？
答曰：
If there were cloth apart from thread, the cloth would be without a cause. And a thing existing without a cause is nowhere to be found in the world.
Question: In the Buddha's teaching, in the teachings of the other schools, and in ordinary worldly reckoning alike, there are causeless things. The Buddha's teaching has the three unconditioned things, and the unconditioned, being permanent, is causeless. The other schools have space, time, direction, the self, atoms, nirvāṇa, and so on. Ordinary reckoning has space, time, direction, and so on. These three are present everywhere without exception and are therefore called permanent; and being permanent, they are causeless. Why then do you say that a causeless thing is nowhere to be found in the world?
Answer: These causeless things exist only in speech; think them through and take them apart, and every one of them is gone. If a thing exists on account of causes and conditions, it should not be called causeless; and if it has no cause or condition, then it is exactly as I have said.
Question: There are two kinds of cause: a productive cause and a nominal cause. These causeless things have no productive cause, but they do have a nominal cause, since the name is what makes them known to people.
Answer: Even granting a nominal cause, this will not do. Space is broken in the chapter on the six elements, and the rest will be broken later on. Moreover, if even manifest things can all be broken, how much more invisible ones like atoms? This is why it is said that a causeless thing is nowhere to be found in the world.
Question: If there were a cause of form apart from form, what fault would there be?
Answer:
若離色有因， 則是無果因；
若言無果因， 則無有是處。
Were there a cause apart from form,
it would be a cause without a fruit;
and to speak of a cause without a fruit —
there is no such case.
若除色果但有色因者，即是無果因。
問曰：若無果有因，有何咎？
答曰：無果有因，世間所無。何以故？以果故名為因。若無果，云何名因？復次若因中無果者，物何以不從非因生？是事如〈破因緣品〉中說。是故無有無果因。復次：
If one removes the fruit, which is form, and keeps only the cause of form, that is a cause without a fruit.
Question: If there were a cause without a fruit, what fault would there be?
Answer: A cause without a fruit is nowhere to be found in the world. Why? Because it is on account of the fruit that a thing is called a cause at all. If there is no fruit, how is it called a cause? Furthermore, if there is no fruit in the cause, why should a thing not arise from a non-cause? This matter is as stated in the chapter Breaking the Causal Conditions. Therefore there is no such thing as a cause without a fruit. Furthermore:
若已有色者， 則不用色因；
若無有色者， 亦不用色因。
If form is there already,
the cause of form is of no use;
and if form is not there,
the cause of form is of no use either.
二處有色因，是則不然。若先因中有色，不名為色因；若先因中無色，亦不名為色因。
問曰：若二處俱不然，但有無因色，有何咎？
答曰：
That there should be a cause of form in either case will not do. If form is in the cause beforehand, the cause is not called a cause of form; and if form is not in the cause beforehand, it is not called a cause of form either.
Question: If neither case will do, then let there simply be form without a cause. What fault would there be?
Answer:
無因而有色， 是事終不然。
是故有智者， 不應分別色。
That there should be form without a cause —
this in the end will not do.
Therefore one who has wisdom
should not discriminate form.
若因中有果、因中無果，此事尚不可得，何況無因有色。是故言「無因而有色，是事終不然。是故有智者，不應分別色。」分別名凡夫，以無明愛染貪著色，然後以邪見生分別戲論，說因中有果、無果等。今此中求色不可得，是故智者不應分別。復次：
If even fruit-in-the-cause and no-fruit-in-the-cause cannot be established, how much less form without any cause at all. This is why it is said: "That there should be form without a cause — this in the end will not do. Therefore one who has wisdom should not discriminate form." Discriminating is what ordinary people do: out of ignorance, craving and defilement they cling to form, and then out of wrong views they generate discrimination and conceptual elaboration, saying that the fruit is in the cause, or that it is not, and so on. But here form cannot be found by searching; and so one who has wisdom should not discriminate. Furthermore:
若果似於因， 是事則不然；
果若不似因， 是事亦不然。
That the fruit resembles its cause —
this will not do;
and that the fruit does not resemble its cause —
this will not do either.
若果與因相似，是事不然，因細果麁故。因果色力等各異，如布似縷則不名布，縷多布一故。不得言因果相似。若因果不相似，是亦不然。如麻縷不成絹，麁縷無出細布，是故不得言因果不相似。二義不然，故無色、無色因。
If the fruit resembled its cause, that will not do, since the cause is fine and the fruit coarse. Cause and fruit differ in color, in strength, and in the rest; and if the cloth resembled the thread it would not be called cloth, since the threads are many and the cloth is one. So one cannot say that cause and fruit resemble each other. And if cause and fruit did not resemble each other, that will not do either: hemp thread does not make silk, and coarse thread yields no fine cloth. So one cannot say that cause and fruit fail to resemble each other. Since neither sense will do, there is no form and no cause of form.
受陰及想陰、 行陰識陰等，
其餘一切法， 皆同於色陰。
The aggregate of feeling, the aggregate of perception,
the aggregates of formations and of consciousness,
and all remaining things whatever —
all are as the aggregate of form.
Hold the cloth and the thread in mind and the chapter is not difficult. Take away the thread and no cloth remains; take away the cloth and there is no thread — not because the fibers vanish, but because "thread" as the cause of this cloth is a description that only the cloth confers. Piṅgala said the same thing about the potter's clay in Chapter 1. A cause is identified backward, from its fruit.
Verse 4 is the dilemma that has been running under every chapter so far, and here it is at its barest. If form is already present in its cause, the cause has nothing to do — the cloth was in the thread and weaving is theater. If form is not present in its cause, then the cause has nothing to contribute that anything else lacks, and the objection from Chapter 1 returns: why not get a pot out of milk? Neither the presence nor the absence of the effect in the cause leaves the cause any work.
Verse 6 then makes the same cut with resemblance, and this is the pair of arguments worth taking home from the chapter, because they are so close to the surface of ordinary life. Does the cloth look like the thread? Obviously not — the thread is fine and the cloth coarse, threads are many and cloth is one, and if the cloth did look like thread we would call it thread. So cause and fruit do not resemble each other. But if they truly did not resemble each other, then hemp would spin into silk and any coarse thread would give fine cloth, since there would be nothing in a cause constraining what could come out of it. Weaving is neither the transfer of a property nor its absence. Something happens that our categories of same and different cannot describe, and it happens all day long.
A note on the word 分別 in verse 5, since it is easy to hear wrongly. It does not mean "notice differences" — the treatise itself distinguishes carefully and constantly, and the wise are not being told to see everything as a blur. Piṅgala's gloss is precise: the discriminating at issue is what proceeds from craving and clinging, and issues in theories of whether the fruit is in the cause. It is the mind manufacturing joints and then defending them. That is 戲論, conceptual elaboration, and it is what the Buddha was praised for quieting in the very first verse of this treatise.
四陰及一切法，亦應如是思惟破。又今造論者欲讚美空義故而說偈：
The four remaining aggregates and all things whatever should be contemplated and broken in just this way. And now the author of the treatise, wishing to praise the meaning of emptiness, speaks these verses:
若人有問者， 離空而欲答，
是則不成答， 俱同於彼疑。
若人有難問， 離空說其過，
是不成難問， 俱同於彼疑。
If someone puts a question
and one answers apart from emptiness,
that is no answer at all:
it rests on the very thing in doubt.
If someone raises an objection
and states the fault apart from emptiness,
that is no objection at all:
it rests on the very thing in doubt.
若人論議時各有所執，離於空義而有問答者，皆不成問答，俱亦同疑。如人言：「瓶是無常。」問者言：「何以故無常？」答言：「從無常因生故。」此不名答。何以故？因緣中亦疑，不知為常、為無常？是為同彼所疑。
問者若欲說其過，不依於空而說諸法無常，則不名問難。何以故？汝因無常破我常，我亦因常破汝無常。若實無常則無業報，眼耳等諸法念念滅，亦無有分別。有如是等過，皆不成問難，同彼所疑。若依空破常者，則無有過。何以故？此人不取空相故。是故若欲問答，尚應依於空法，何況欲求離苦寂滅相者。
When people debate, each holding to some position of his own, and their questions and answers are made apart from the meaning of emptiness, then neither question nor answer is established, and both rest on the very thing in doubt. Suppose someone says, "A pot is impermanent." The questioner asks, "Why is it impermanent?" The answer comes: "Because it arises from an impermanent cause." This is not an answer. Why? Because the cause and condition is itself in doubt — is it permanent, or impermanent? So the answer rests on the very thing that was in doubt.
And if a questioner wishes to state a fault, and argues that things are impermanent without relying on emptiness, that is no genuine objection. Why? Because you break my permanence by way of impermanence, and I break your impermanence by way of permanence. If things were really impermanent, there would be no ripening of karma, the eye and the ear and the rest would cease moment by moment, and there would be no discrimination either. Faults of this kind mean that no objection is established, and it rests on the very thing in doubt. But whoever breaks permanence by relying on emptiness is at no fault. Why? Because such a person does not seize upon a mark of emptiness. Therefore, if one wishes so much as to ask and answer questions, one should rely upon emptiness — how much more one who seeks the mark of peace, released from suffering.
These two verses arrive without warning at the end of a chapter about cloth and thread, and they are among the most important in the first third of the treatise. Piṅgala flags the shift himself: the author is no longer refuting, he is praising. This is what emptiness is for.
The example is deliberately unglamorous. Someone says a pot is impermanent. Why? Because it came from an impermanent cause. Piṅgala's response is that this settles nothing, because the cause's own status is exactly as unsettled as the pot's — you have paid a debt with a promissory note drawn on the same empty account. Any argument that assumes some item somewhere has a fixed nature, and reasons from it, has helped itself to the thing under dispute. The regress does not terminate, because nothing in the chain is more secure than any other link.
Then the sentence that should be underlined: you break my permanence by way of impermanence, and I break your impermanence by way of permanence. Two people trading fixed positions can go on forever, each with a perfectly good argument, because each is standing on ground the other denies. And Piṅgala is scrupulous enough to list what goes wrong if impermanence is taken as a real, inherent nature rather than as a corrective: karma would have no ripening, the senses would flicker out moment by moment with nothing to connect them, and there would be no telling one thing from another. Impermanence held as a thesis about how things inherently are is just as ruinous as permanence.
What saves the day is the clause about the person who argues from emptiness: 此人不取空相 — he does not seize upon a mark of emptiness. This is the whole difference, and it is the difference the treatise was written to protect. Emptiness is not the thesis that things are inherently empty; that would be one more fixed nature, and Piṅgala said in the opening pages of Chapter 1 that people had already made exactly this mistake and begun clinging to it. Emptiness is the refusal to plant a flag anywhere. And the last line is remarkable in its modesty and its reach at once: if you need emptiness merely to hold a coherent conversation, consider how much more you need it to actually be free.
Chapter 5 · Examining the Six Elements 觀六種品第五
Eight verses on the six elements — earth, water, fire, wind, space, consciousness — the inventory of what the world and the person are built from. Nāgārjuna begins with the strangest member of the list, empty space (虛空), and Piṅgala explains at the end exactly why he began there. The argument runs through a single pair of terms that will matter for the rest of the treatise: 相, the mark or defining characteristic, and 可相, the thing that bears it. The chapter closes with a verse about those who look at anything at all and see only existence or non-existence — which is to say, about most of us.
問曰：六種各有定相，有定相故則有六種。
答曰：
Question: The six elements each have a fixed mark; and because they have fixed marks, the six elements exist.
Answer:
空相未有時， 則無虛空法；
若先有虛空， 即為是無相。
Before the mark of space is there,
there is no such thing as space;
and if space were there beforehand,
it would be a thing without a mark.
若未有虛空相先有虛空法者，虛空則無相。何以故？無色處名虛空相。色是作法無常，若色未生，未生則無滅，爾時無虛空相。因色故有無色處，無色處名虛空相。
問曰：若無相有虛空，有何咎？
答曰：
If the thing space were there before the mark of space, then space would have no mark. Why? Because "a place where there is no form" is what the mark of space means. Form is a made thing and impermanent; and if form has not yet arisen, then, not having arisen, it has not ceased either, and at that time there is no mark of space. It is on account of form that there is a place where there is no form, and a place where there is no form is what the mark of space means.
Question: If space existed without a mark, what fault would there be?
Answer:
是無相之法， 一切處無有；
於無相法中， 相則無所相。
A thing that has no mark
is nowhere to be found at all;
and in a thing that has no mark
a mark has nothing to mark.
若於常無常法中，求無相法不可得。如論者言，是有是無，云何知各有相？故生住滅是有為相，無生住滅是無為相。虛空若無相，則無虛空。若謂先無相、後相來相者，是亦不然。若先無相，則無法可相。何以故？
Search among permanent things and impermanent things alike, and a markless thing cannot be found. As the masters of the treatises say — this exists, that does not exist — how is either of them known, unless each has its mark? Arising, abiding, and ceasing are the mark of conditioned things; the absence of arising, abiding, and ceasing is the mark of the unconditioned. If space had no mark, there would be no space. And to say that there was no mark at first and that a mark came along afterward to mark it will not do either: if there is no mark at first, there is no thing there to be marked. Why?
有相無相中， 相則無所住；
離有相無相， 餘處亦不住。
In what has a mark and in what has none
a mark has nowhere to rest;
and apart from what has a mark and what has none
there is no other place for it to rest.
如有峯有角、尾端有毛、頸下垂𩑶，是名牛相。若離是相則無牛。若無牛，是諸相無所住。是故說於無相法中相則無所相。有相中相亦不住，先有相故。如水相中火相不住，先有自相故。復次若無相中相住者，則為無因，無因名為無法而有相。相、可相、常相，因待故。離有相無相法，更無第三處可相。是故偈中說「離有相無相，餘處亦不住。」復次：
A hump, horns, hair at the tip of the tail, a dewlap hanging beneath the neck — this is what is called the mark of a cow. Apart from these marks there is no cow; and if there is no cow, these marks have nowhere to rest. This is why it is said that in a markless thing a mark has nothing to mark. Nor does a mark rest in what already has a mark, since the mark is there already — just as the mark of fire does not rest in the mark of water, water having its own mark already. Furthermore, if a mark rested in the markless it would be without a cause, and "without a cause" means there being a mark where there is no thing. Mark and marked always depend upon each other. Apart from what has a mark and what has none there is no third place to be marked. This is why the verse says, "Apart from what has a mark and what has none, there is no other place for it to rest." Furthermore:
相法無有故， 可相法亦無；
可相法無故， 相法亦復無。
Since the mark does not exist,
what is marked does not exist either;
and since what is marked does not exist,
neither does the mark.
相無所住故，則無可相法；可相法無故，相法亦無。何以故？因相有可相，因可相有相，共相因待故。
Since the mark has nowhere to rest, there is nothing that is marked; and since there is nothing that is marked, there is no mark either. Why? Because it is on account of the mark that there is what is marked, and on account of what is marked that there is the mark: the two depend upon each other together.
是故今無相， 亦無有可相；
離相可相已， 更亦無有物。
Therefore there is now no mark,
and nothing that is marked;
and once mark and marked are set aside,
there is no thing left over either.
於因緣中本末推求，相、可相決定不可得。是二不可得故，一切法皆無。一切法皆攝在相、可相二法中，或相為可相、或可相為相。如火以烟為相，烟亦復以火為相。
問曰：若無有有，應當有無。
答曰：
Searching through causes and conditions from beginning to end, neither mark nor marked can definitely be found. And since these two cannot be found, all things are absent. For all things are included within these two, the mark and the marked — sometimes the mark serving as what is marked, sometimes what is marked serving as the mark. Just as fire has smoke for its mark, and smoke in turn has fire for its mark.
Question: If there is no existence, then there must be non-existence.
Answer:
若使無有有， 云何當有無？
有無既已無， 知有無者誰？
If there is no existence,
how is there to be non-existence?
And once existence and non-existence are gone,
who is it that knows existence and non-existence?
凡物若自壞、若為他壞，名為無。無不自有，從有而有。是故言「若使無有有，云何當有無？」眼見耳聞尚不可得，何況無物。
問曰：以無有有故無亦無，應當有知有無者。
答曰：若有知者，應在有中、應在無中？有無既破，知者亦同破。
Whenever a thing breaks down of itself, or is broken by something else, that is called non-existence. Non-existence does not exist on its own; it exists on the basis of existence. This is why it is said, "If there is no existence, how is there to be non-existence?" If even what the eye sees and the ear hears cannot be found, how much less a thing that is not there.
Question: Granted that because there is no existence, non-existence is absent too — still there must be someone who knows existence and non-existence.
Answer: If there is a knower, is he inside existence, or inside non-existence? Existence and non-existence have already been broken, and the knower is broken along with them.
是故知虛空， 非有亦非無，
非相非可相， 餘五同虛空。
Therefore know that space
is neither existent nor non-existent,
neither a mark nor what is marked;
and the other five are as space is.
如虛空種種求相不可得，餘五種亦如是。
問曰：虛空不在初、不在後。何以先破？
答曰：地、水、火、風眾緣和合，故易破。識以苦樂因故知無常變異，故易破。虛空無如是相，但凡夫悕望為有，是故先破。復次虛空能持四大，四大因緣有識，是故先破根本，餘者自破。
Just as no mark of space can be found however one searches for it, so it is with the other five elements.
Question: Space stands neither first in the list nor last. Why break it first?
Answer: Earth, water, fire, and wind are assemblages of a host of conditions, and so are easily broken. Consciousness is known to be impermanent and changeable, since it has pleasure and pain for its causes, and so is easily broken. Space has no such mark; ordinary people simply hope it exists — and so it is broken first. Moreover, space is what holds the four great elements, and consciousness exists on the basis of the four great elements; so once the root is broken first, the rest break of themselves.
Of all the things this treatise takes apart, empty space is the one most worth watching, because it is the hardest case for the position it defends. Everything else on the list of six can be shown to be an assemblage: earth, water, fire and wind are compounds, consciousness rises and falls with what pleases and pains it. Space is not built out of anything, does not change, and appears to be simply there, the standing room in which everything else happens. If any candidate ever had a nature of its own, this is it.
Verse 1 asks what makes space space, and Piṅgala answers with the traditional definition: 無色處 — the place where there is no form. Sit with that. Space is defined by an absence, and an absence of something particular. So before there is any form, there is no place-where-form-is-absent — nothing has yet gone missing. Space turns out to depend on the very matter it was supposed to be the container for. The stage depends on the play.
Then verses 2 through 5 generalize this into the tool the rest of the treatise will use, and it is worth learning the pair now. 相 is the defining mark; 可相 is what bears it. Piṅgala's cow is the perfect teaching example: hump, horns, tail-hair, dewlap — that is what "cow" means. Now try to separate them. Ask where the marks rest and there is no cow underneath them to rest on; ask what the cow is and there is nothing but the marks. And the closing image goes further still: fire is known by smoke, and smoke is known by fire. Neither is the bedrock. This is the thing to carry forward — whenever you find something that seems to be a genuine substance with genuine properties, ask which of the two you are holding, and notice that each time you reach for one, the other is what you get.
Verse 6 is the verse to remember from this chapter. Told that existence has been refuted, the objector does what every reader does, and reaches for the other side: then at least there is non-existence. Piṅgala's reply is a single sentence and it closes the door for good: 無不自有，從有而有 — non-existence does not exist on its own; it exists on the basis of existence. Nothing can be absent except against a background of what it would be to be present. Emptiness is not the discovery that the second option was the right one all along. Both options went together, because they were always two ends of one stick.
And then the last question in the sequence, which the objector deserves credit for asking: fine, but there is still somebody here noticing all this. The answer takes three seconds. Is the knower inside existence, or inside non-existence? There is no third place for him to stand and watch from. The observer is not exempt from the analysis, and Chapters 3 and 9 make the same point about the seer and the self who supposedly owns the senses.
One small piece of honesty at the end is worth noticing. Asked why space is broken first when it stands fifth in the list, Piṅgala says something a systematic philosopher would not: because the others are easy, and this one is where people are really invested. 但凡夫悕望為有 — ordinary people merely hope it exists. The order of the argument is set by where the clinging is, not by the tidiness of the inventory.
問曰：世間人盡見諸法是有是無，汝何以獨與世間相違，言無所見？
答曰：
Question: Everyone in the world sees that things exist or do not exist. Why do you alone set yourself against the world and say that nothing is seen?
Answer:
淺智見諸法， 若有若無相，
是則不能見， 滅見安隱法。
Those of shallow wisdom see in things
the mark of existence or of non-existence;
and such people cannot see
the peace in which seeing is quieted.
若人未得道，不見諸法實相，愛見因緣故種種戲論。見法生時謂之為有，取相言有；見法滅時謂之為斷，取相言無。智者見諸法生即滅無見，見諸法滅即滅有見，是故於一切法雖有所見，皆如幻如夢，乃至無漏道見尚滅，何況餘見。是故若不見滅、見安隱法者，則見有見無。
So long as a person has not attained the path and does not see the reality of things, then, on account of craving and views, he elaborates in every sort of way. Seeing a thing arise he calls it existent, and seizing on the mark, says "it exists"; seeing a thing cease he calls it cut off, and seizing on the mark, says "it does not exist." One who is wise, seeing things arise, thereby quiets the view of non-existence, and seeing things cease, thereby quiets the view of existence. And so, although he does see things, he sees them all as an illusion, as a dream — and even the seeing that belongs to the outflow-free path is quieted, how much more any other seeing. Therefore whoever does not see that peace in which seeing is quieted will go on seeing existence and seeing non-existence.
The objector's last question is the fairest one in these four chapters, and it should be allowed its full weight: everybody sees that things are there or are not there — why are you alone against the world? A reader who has followed fifty verses of refutation may be feeling exactly this. The answer is not a rebuttal. It is a diagnosis of what actually happens when we look.
Watch Piṅgala's description of the untrained response, because it is unflatteringly accurate. Something appears, and immediately: it exists — and the mark is seized. Something goes, and immediately: it's finished, it's gone — and that mark is seized too. Two reflexes, firing all day, and between them they generate the entire war of eternalism and annihilationism that the eight negations of Chapter 1 were bowing away from. Neither reflex is a perception. Both are additions laid on top of one.
Then the reversal, and it is one of the most elegant sentences in the commentary. The wise person, seeing things arise, quiets the view of non-existence; seeing things cease, quiets the view of existence. Read that twice, because the crossing is deliberate. Arising does not prove that things are there; it proves they were not simply lying about pre-formed, so it kills the view of blank nothingness. Ceasing does not prove that things are absent; it proves nothing was solid enough to stay, so it kills the view of substantial being. The same two events that the ordinary mind reads as evidence for the two extremes are read by the trained mind as evidence against them. Nothing new has been observed. The same seeds sprouting and the same pots breaking are yielding the opposite conclusion.
And note carefully what the wise person is not said to do. He is not said to stop seeing. 於一切法雖有所見 — he does see things, all of them, and sees them as an illusion, as a dream. This is the answer to the objection about going against the world, and it is the answer to any reader who has been quietly wondering whether these fifty verses amount to a denial of the obvious. Nobody is asked to stop seeing the road, or the cloth, or the cow. What is asked is that one stop adding to what is seen the two little verdicts that were never part of it.
The last clause is the one that should follow the reader out of this page: even the seeing that belongs to the outflow-free path is quieted. Not just wrong views — right ones too, at the end. The realization is not a superior verdict about how things are. It is the release of the habit of issuing verdicts, and that release is what the verse calls 安隱, peace, security, the place where nothing further needs to be settled. Chapter 13 will name the failure mode directly, for the reader who turns emptiness into one more thing seen and held.
Key Terms
| Term | Chinese | What it means here |
|---|---|---|
| the three times of motion | 已去・未去・去時 | The gone, the not-yet-gone, and the going now. Chapter 2's grid, applied thereafter to burning, seeing, and every other activity — and shown to have no cell in which the doing can be found. |
| the act of going / the goer | 去法・去者 | The deed and its agent. Neither can be set down first, since each takes its name from the other. The model case for every agent-noun in the treatise: seer, knower, burner, doer. |
| the six senses / the six objects | 六情・六塵 | Eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind; and form, sound, smell, taste, touch, and things. The Abhidharma's account of perception as an inner faculty meeting an outer field. |
| mark / marked | 相・可相 | A thing's defining characteristic, and the thing that bears it. Chapter 5's central pair: neither is available without the other, so neither is bedrock. The cow is nothing but hump, horns, and dewlap; the marks have no cow to rest on. |
| space | 虛空 | The fifth of the six elements, defined as the place where form is absent — and therefore dependent on the very matter it was supposed to contain. Broken first because it is where the clinging is strongest. |
| the six elements | 六種 | Earth, water, fire, wind, space, consciousness — the standard inventory of what a person and a world are made of. |
| a borrowed name | 假名 | A provisional designation that functions perfectly well and has nothing behind it answering to it one-to-one. What going, the goer, and the road turn out to be at the end of Chapter 2. |