竹窗隨筆・三筆 · Entries 124–125 · Final Entries

Notes Beside the Bamboo Window — Third Collection, Part 46 (Final)

The closing entries of the Third Collection (三筆). A grim, personally witnessed account of a lapsed monk reborn as a pig — released from slaughter once, only to be sold and killed after all — followed by Zhuhong's own closing defense of his three-part response to Catholic missionary writings, answering two further objections and ending on a sharp reminder that a single moment of murderous intent damages the killer's own spirit regardless of the victim.

Translator: Ru-Yi Meditation Center Status: complete — all 398 entries translated Commentary guide: 華藏講記組's vernacular commentary (Huazang Study Group)

124. 剛鬣報 — Retribution as a Boar

A grim, personally witnessed account of a once-simple but stubbornly opinionated monk who abandoned monastic life, only to be reborn as a pig — momentarily saved through a release-life ceremony, but ultimately sold and slaughtered after all, in a fate Zhuhong holds up as a warning too painful to forget.

Chinese Source

僧某素朴實,但愚而自用,凡見稱人之善,必微哂,示不足稱也。久之,反道歸俗,與一老媼俱。其死也,致夢報媼曰:「吾明日歸鄰庵矣!」則有送一彘放生於庵者,媼知其某也,數往訊視,遂聞於人,遠近異其事,觀者絡繹。媼醜之,轉送雲棲。時雲棲放生所窄隘,一山寺願收養。俄而其徒賣與屠者,殺之田中。噫!受生於畜矣,又不免於刑戮焉,何至此極也,吾輩所當痛心而鏤骨者矣!

Ru-Yi Translation

There was once a monk, plain and simple in manner, but foolish and stubbornly convinced of his own views — whenever he heard someone praise another person's good qualities, he would always give a faint, dismissive smile, as if to suggest that person was hardly worth such praise.

In time, this monk abandoned the monastic path and returned to lay life, living together with an old woman. After his death, he appeared to her in a dream and said: "Tomorrow I will return to the neighboring temple." The next day, someone brought a pig to be released at that very temple, and the old woman, recognizing this must be him, went repeatedly to visit and check on the animal. Word of this soon spread, and people from near and far found the matter remarkable, coming in a steady stream to see for themselves. The old woman, growing ashamed of the attention, had the pig transferred instead to the release-life sanctuary at Yunqi. But the sanctuary at Yunqi was cramped and overcrowded at the time, and a nearby mountain temple offered to take the animal in instead. Not long afterward, however, a disciple at that temple sold the pig to a butcher, who slaughtered it in a field.

Ah! Having already been reborn as an animal, he still could not escape the further punishment of slaughter — how could his fate have come to such an extreme? This is something we monks ought to take deeply to heart, engraving it upon our very bones as a warning never to forget.

Reading note — after the Huazang Study Group's commentary

Yunqi (雲棲) is Zhuhong's own home monastery near Hangzhou, from which he took the name by which he is often known, Yunqi Zhuhong — making this account, unlike many secondhand anecdotes elsewhere in this collection, one Zhuhong presumably encountered through his own monastery's release-life program; the monk's defining flaw as described here, a habitual, faintly contemptuous smile toward any praise of others, closely echoes the pattern of arrogant self-regard Zhuhong criticizes at greater length in this collection's entry 105 above, where several proud monks similarly died young or of terrible illness — reinforcing this collection's recurring theme that subtle intellectual arrogance, not only outright wrongdoing, carries real karmic weight.

125. 天說餘 — Further Remarks on Heaven

Zhuhong's own closing defense of his earlier three-part response to Catholic missionary writings, answering two further objections raised by a visitor — one exposing a category confusion in the marriage-divination analogy, the other a claim that sexual misconduct is worse than killing — and ending on the sharp observation that a single moment of murderous intent damages the killer's own spirit regardless of what becomes of the victim.

Chinese Source

予頃為天說矣,有客復從而難曰:「卜娶婦而非己父母也,既可娶,獨不曰卜殺生而非己父母也,亦可殺乎?不娶而生人之類絕,獨不曰去殺而祭祀之禮廢乎?」被難者默然,以告予。予曰,古人有言:「卜以決疑,不疑何卜?」同姓不婚,天下古今之大經大法也,故疑而卜之。殺生,天下古今之大過大惡也,斷不可為,何疑而待卜也?不娶而人類絕,理則然矣;不殺生而祀典廢,獨不聞二簋可用享,殺牛之不如禴祭乎?則祀典固安然不廢也;即廢焉,是廢所當廢,除肉刑、禁殉葬之類也,美政也。嗟乎!卜之云者,姑借目前事,以權為比例,蓋因明通蔽云爾,子便作實法會,真可謂杯酒助歡笑之迂談,排場供戲謔之諢語也。然使愚夫愚婦入乎耳而存乎心,害非細也,言不可不慎也。客又難:「殺生止斷色身,行婬直斷慧命。」意謂殺生猶輕。不知所殺者,彼之色身;而行殺者,一念慘毒之心,自己之慧命斷矣!可不悲夫?

Ru-Yi Translation

I recently wrote my three-part response on the subject of Heaven, and a visitor came forward to challenge me further, saying: "If one may divine whether a prospective bride is or is not one's own past-life parent, and marry her once divination confirms she is not, then why should one not equally divine whether a creature is or is not one's own past-life parent, and kill it once divination confirms it is not? And if refusing to marry at all would cause the human race to die out, then would refusing to kill at all not equally cause the entire institution of ritual sacrifice to collapse?" The person who received this challenge had no answer, and reported it to me instead.

I replied: the ancients had a saying: "Divination exists to resolve genuine doubt — where there is no doubt, why divine at all?" The prohibition on marriage between people of the same surname is a great, unchanging principle recognized throughout history the world over, and so when genuine doubt arises about whether two people share a surname, one divines the matter. Killing living beings, by contrast, is a great and universally recognized wrong throughout history the world over, something that must never be done under any circumstance — where, then, is the doubt that would require divination in the first place?

That refusing to marry at all would cause humanity to die out is certainly a coherent argument. But that refusing to kill would cause ritual sacrifice to collapse entirely does not hold up at all — has this visitor never heard the Book of Changes itself say that "two simple bowls of grain may be sincerely offered," or that "the eastern neighbor's grand sacrifice of an ox is not as good as the western neighbor's modest springtime offering"? Ritual sacrifice, then, remains perfectly intact even without killing. And even if some particular sacrificial practice were abolished as a result, this would simply mean abolishing what genuinely deserved to be abolished — no different from abolishing corporal mutilation as punishment, or forbidding the practice of burying the living alongside the dead, both of which were themselves excellent reforms in their own time.

Ah! When I spoke earlier of divination, I was merely borrowing a present-day custom as a provisional analogy, meant only to illuminate a common blind spot through something familiar — and yet here is someone treating it as though it were literal doctrine to be applied without limit. This is truly no better than idle chatter offered over wine to lighten the mood, or a joking aside meant only for the stage. But should such careless words reach the ears of simple, unreflective people and lodge themselves in their hearts, the resulting harm would hardly be trivial — which is why one must always speak with genuine care.

The visitor raised yet another challenge: "Killing merely ends the physical body, while sexual misconduct directly severs one's own wisdom-life" — meaning, by this, that killing is somehow the lesser offense of the two. But he fails to realize: what is destroyed by killing is only the other being's physical body, while the very act of killing itself, arising from a single thought of cruel, murderous intent, already severs the killer's own wisdom-life in that very instant! How could this not be a matter for genuine sorrow?

Reading note — after the Huazang Study Group's commentary

The two Book of Changes citations Zhuhong invokes — "two simple bowls of grain may be sincerely offered" and "the eastern neighbor's grand sacrifice of an ox is not as good as the western neighbor's modest springtime offering" — are both genuine passages from that classic, traditionally read as teaching that sincerity of heart matters more than lavishness of ritual offering, providing Zhuhong with textual grounds from within the Confucian canon itself for arguing that sacrifice need not require killing; his closing rebuttal — that the killer's own "wisdom-life" (慧命, a term for one's capacity for spiritual insight and growth) is severed by the very act of killing regardless of the victim's fate — extends the same principle already voiced in this collection's much earlier entry on retribution witnessed within a single lifetime, that the deepest cost of wrongdoing falls first and foremost on the person who commits it.

This is the final entry of Zhuhong's Third Collection (三筆) of Zhuchuang Suibi — the source text's own modern edition closes here with its printing colophon. All 125 entries of the Third Collection have now been drafted across this batch series.