福蓋正行所集經

The Buddha said: O Great King! You should clearly understand that all sentient beings in this world receive merit and blessings by reason of pure giving; therefore enemies and bandits cannot harm them. Even were there hundreds of thousands of people, they still could not seize or plunder it. Wherever one goes, that merit leads the way; even into another lifetime, the merit likewise follows, as a companion always remains close at one's side. At that time the World-Honored One spoke a verse, saying:

Because in former lives one gathered

Generously the works of merit,

Now one is born to be a king,

Beautiful and worthy of honor.

A hundred thousand other tasks

Stand upright before the king;

The power of merit gathers them all,

Gazing in reverence and bowing low.

It makes manifest those works of merit,

As the eyes, the belly, the hands and feet

Ever protect one another,

Acting continuously without cease.

In ages past I cultivated the practice of giving,

Relinquishing and casting away all things,

Keeping only a single elephant

On which I rode about at will,

Joyfully dwelling in the mountains and forests,

Cultivating together with meditative absorption (dhyāna).

At that time all the people,

Every one of them, ran after me,

Some holding white fly-whisks in hand,

Some again holding parasols to shade me,

Even cushions and mats as well,

To make a seat for sitting and lying down.

They all asked the king, saying:

"We have neither merit nor wisdom;

Now we vow to draw near to you,

Together to cultivate wholesome deeds.

Merit is a lofty and noble thing,

Ever obtaining true and real joy;

Merit is the foremost of friends,

Leading to the place of peace and security.

Merit is like the wish-fulfilling jewel:

Set it down, then take it up again;

It fashions the most excellent good fortune,

And all one's vows are brought to fulfillment.

Forms and features are all beautiful,

Enjoying the pleasures of the five desires;

When one speaks, others delight to hear;

Skillful means are truly clear and evident.

The span of life is long and enduring,

Peaceful and secure, without grief or worry.

All sentient beings, beholding such a one,

Regard him as a good and virtuous friend."

If the various kinds of sentient beings are deemed the foremost field of merit, then, in accord with right principle, one who single-mindedly gives will assuredly be born into this world possessing wealth, corresponding to merit and blessings. Thus there was a certain lady with golden, shining hair who, hearing of the merits and virtues of the Buddha, gave rise in her heart to praise and admiration. First she took that golden hair of hers and offered it to the Buddha.

There was also the Princess Sujātā (Thiện Tư) who offered rare and delicious food and drink to the Venerable Subhūti. There was also the brahman maiden Suprabhā (Tu Phát) who cut off her own hair to exchange for gruel and rice to offer to the Venerable Mahākātyāyana. Afterward her hair grew back again.

All three of these women, by reason of pure giving, in their present bodies became queens of entire kingdoms. There was also the elder Puṇyaśrī (Phước Nghiêm) who came together to invite the Buddha and the arhats to his home to take a meal. His storehouse was full to overflowing, as the cowherd woman who used Candana (sandalwood) incense and the field-dwelling woman (Điền Xá) who bound flowers with grain made offerings to the Buddha's stūpa, and both were thereby born in the heavens.

All such ones received their karmic conditions within the present life. In the Sūtra of King Prasenajit (Thắng Quân) it is said: When the Buddha was dwelling in the city of Śrāvastī, there was the lady Mallikā (Mạt Lị), wife of King Prasenajit. At first she gave birth to a daughter who possessed the eighteen kinds of extreme ugliness.

As the years passed and the months went by, the girl gradually grew up, and a search was made for a fitting match among the noble houses; yet there was no joy in it, for the prospective bridegroom's families were of low lineage. The king's heart was displeased. At that time, in a foreign land, there was the son of an elder who had long dwelt in this city, squandering his wealth in extravagance, surrounded by players and actors, and not yet married; so the envoy came and reported to the king, and the king had him summoned and questioned, saying:

"I have an eldest daughter whom I shall give to you as wife; but you must live out all your life in glory and wealth. Should you wish to return to your own country, then I shall let you go back." At that time the Princess, adorned upon her body with all manner of precious ornaments, set out to take her husband, bringing with her countless articles besides. Then the elder's son led his wife back home, and before long they had arrived at his own country. When they reached the house, the family then set forth a feast in welcome. The elder's son said:

"My wife is the daughter of a king, very fair to look upon. But once she has been seen, people will gossip." Afterward the relatives also came to this house. The elder's son said:

"After seven days I shall go out from the city to a flower garden." Then, having spoken of seeing her features, the people all said: "If these words are not true, then I shall be fined five hundred thousand coins." When seven days had passed, that elder's son had prepared in full all manner of fine and sweet food and drink; first he took a portion and placed it within the chamber, then told his wife of it and sealed up the doors. At that time the elder's son had these provisions carried to the appointed place of the fine, together with the food and drink, and then went to that garden. At that time the people who were in the garden, seeing that the elder's son came alone, cried out, saying:

"This man has lied; he has not done according to his former promise."

When he reached this garden, he then said to his kinsfolk: "How wretched indeed! Since you have not seen her, you are angry; I beg to receive the penalty."

The people said: "Is it because you so love your wife that you keep her stored within the chamber, for fear of the light of the sun and moon, and therefore do not let her be seen? If indeed she would meet with us, we would see for ourselves what she is like."

At that time the Princess lamented, saying: "Though I am still young, my form is ugly—by what cause did I draw upon myself such a thing?" And she lamented further, saying: "How wretched! How wretched! To make my husband bear so much shame, fashioning false and deceitful words, and when he meets with punishment, how shall he conduct himself? There is nothing for it but to cover up my outward appearance from foot to brow."

At that time the spirit who keeps the household, having seen this matter, said to the Princess: "I shall preserve your life; do not be anxious. You should know that the World-Honored One ever, for the sake of all sentient beings, rescues and delivers them into peace and joy, for he employs a heart of boundless loving-kindness. Therefore call this to mind thus:

'I now, for the sake of all sentient beings, by expounding the essential Dharma, will cause them to give rise to faith and understanding.

I now, for the sake of all sentient beings, will cause them to wash away the defilements of craving and desire.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to dissolve the wrongs of anger and folly.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to eradicate dull and dark ignorance.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to increase all wholesome roots.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to come forth from the foul mire of birth and death.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to cross over the sea of suffering that is saṃsāra.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to be liberated from the bonds of affliction.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to avoid the evil sword and the poisoned arrow.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, dig away the four streams of flowing water so as to cross over to the further shore.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to be spared the three kinds of defiling poison.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, bestow this water of Dharma and cause the thirst of craving to be dissolved.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to depart far from the realm of festering sores.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause to be shattered the membranous shell of beginningless ignorance.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to keep far away from that conceit as lofty as a mountain.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to depart from evil deeds and to put on the garment of shame and conscience.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to perfect the trainings of precepts, concentration, and wisdom.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to attain the various dharmas, and the mind to gain mastery.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to obtain the pure eye of wisdom.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to enter into the gateway of liberation.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, cause them to give rise to the great mind of bodhi.

I now will, for the sake of all sentient beings, take the hair of awakening and set it upon their heads.

I now will, for the sake of the ugly-formed Princess, daughter of King Prasenajit, cause her to attain her wish.'"

At that time the World-Honored One, in each instant (kṣaṇa), recollected and observed all sentient beings—whether near or far, whether many or few, whether good or bad, whether of the higher, middle, or lower natures—and rescued and delivered them all. With the eye of wisdom he had beheld them, leaving not one omitted. As the verse says:

The Buddha does not forsake sentient beings;

Far and near, he transforms and delivers them all.

As a fruit, once it has ripened,

Of itself gives rise to a sweet flavor,

Just so the Muni, the Sage,

Toward foe and kin alike in a single thought,

Brings benefit and joy to all sentient beings—

Nor is this recompense any different from that.

At that time the World-Honored One had subdued and converted the heretic Nirgrantha, who had formerly practiced the way of the naked ascetics; he manifested an adorned form, seated upon a lotus throne, his body draped in a crimson robe, its color like the newly risen sun, his features tranquil, abiding in dignified deportment. He appeared like a mountain of gold; his radiance shone forth with great power upon those places where multitudes of men and devas were gathered.

Like a star amid the throng, he appeared with the aspect of the full moon. Again he was like one seated beneath the Pātalā tree of jewels in the heavenly palace, gently stirred by a light breeze, upon whom people delighted to rely. Like a coral gem adorned with various jeweled flowers.

Like a great lamp burning upon a tray made of gold. Like a white elephant entering the Nairañjanā River. Like a golden lotus whose stamen is untouched by dust.

Again he was like a Karṇikāra tree in springtime, blossoming with fresh and beautiful golden flowers. Everyone, all of them, gazed upon him with joy. How excellent—he tames and subdues all kinds of sentient beings!

He enters into the evil realms and gives rise to no weariness. Roaming and transforming upon the good paths, he expounds the various dharmas, all of which cause beings to give rise to the aspiring mind and to obtain peace, joy, and benefit. Because sentient beings, from of old down to the present, have ever produced craving, anger, folly, and the like—all manner of evil deeds—whether foe or kin, or neither foe nor kin, he pities them all equally, as though they were his only child.

He causes them all to come forth from the perils of saṃsāra, as the sun, shining forth, dispels the places of darkness everywhere, in every place. Then at that time the World-Honored One, using all-knowing wisdom, listened, and for the sake of that heretic expounded the dharmas in brief. One should clearly understand that the dharmas of the world, both the moving and the unmoving, are all to be clearly understood by means of wisdom.

All of them are empty and quiescent. Because of the mind's false imaginings, one is deluded into seeing them as real. Yet the self-nature of nirvāṇa is from the very origin fundamentally pure.

When he had heard these words, his mind was straightway opened to awakening, and he forthwith severed those firm and fixed attachments and his conceit—just as the lion, sending forth its roar, makes all things tremble, of itself shattering even great boulders. At that time the Tathāgata then showed him the wrong views and the correct doctrines, and then manifested a great spiritual power, flying up to the Akaniṣṭha heaven.

Therein were various sentient beings, and all of them in that place extolled the merits and virtues of the Buddha. In all the world none surpasses him. Again he manifested the aspect of the Uṣṇīṣa—the invisible crown, the Vinīsa (Đỉnh Điểu Tỳ Ni Sa)—truly beautiful, free from all stain and defilement, and curling toward the right, of a deep azure-green color, beautiful and pleasing to behold.

Again he sent forth a white radiance from between his brows, like the full moon of autumn. This is precisely the foremost merit and virtue of the Tathāgata. It is not a response to some trifling matter, like that of Brahmā.

This too arises from the Buddha's loving-kindness and compassion that benefits others. Suppose there were sentient beings as numerous as dust-motes who abided in right contemplation; still they could not measure that Vinīsa, which is neither hard nor soft; neither formed nor destructible; neither real nor false; neither moving nor still; neither swift nor slow; neither strong nor weak; neither sinking nor floating; neither easy nor difficult; neither contending nor at rest; neither joined nor scattered; neither adhering nor parting; neither diligent nor lazy; neither anxious nor neglectful; neither sick nor distressed.

All sentient beings possess it equally—most excellent, auspicious, the foremost merit and virtue. At that time that heretic, his mind giving rise to pure faith, understood it clearly. Within the Buddha-Dharma he found true peace and security.

At that time the Princess in this place beheld the dazzling radiance of the Buddha, and her thoughts were naturally at peace and joyful, and she straightway gave rise to the thought: "Now the Buddha is present in the world, bringing benefit and joy to sentient beings. Whoever meets with danger and distress will surely all be delivered. I only beseech the World-Honored One: do not depart from your great compassion; in pity and protection, bestow your blessing and manifest your body before me." Having spoken these words, she then reverently bowed her head in homage, sorrowful and shedding tears.

The Buddha, clearly understanding this intention, then caused the chamber of her dwelling to grow suddenly bright and beautiful. At that time the Tathāgata rose up from beneath the ground, his body like refined gold, his marks and features upright and majestic. At that very moment, when the Princess beheld the body of the Buddha, she rejoiced as never before.

Then she took flowers and incense and brought them as offerings. Precious treasures and jeweled necklaces she used to give in offering, and joining her two palms she made obeisance, reverently drawing near. Gazing upon the image of the Buddha, her body straightway became beautiful, her mind truly glad, her joy beyond all reckoning.

Standing directly before the Buddha, she then extolled him with verses, saying:

Most excellent Lion-like One,

Dwelling within the cave of La Nham (the cliff cavern),

Who in all things desires to know contentment with little,

Departing from the wrongs of the world.

Wisdom is the sprouting seed,

Shame and conscience are the beard and hair;

Subduing the host of māras and foes,

Like teeth being shaken loose.

Patience is that which is firm and strong,

The power of loving-kindness is the bow;

Wholesomeness drawn back, the arrow of wisdom—

Forever severing the bandit of affliction.

The eight liberations are the pool,

Right conduct is the shore of awakening;

Stainless is the water of vigor,

Opening to awakening, the lotus of the mind.

Valiant, departing from all that is wrong,

Utterly cutting off the roots of the three realms;

Bestowing in equality the medicine of Dharma

Upon the diseases of craving, anger, and folly—

All are burned away by majestic virtue.

With beautiful marks he is adorned,

Increasing the mind of merit and virtue.

How is it, toward sentient beings,

He abides so well in dignified deportment?

His faculties are not scattered or disordered,

Like the Kovidāra flower (Câu Phược La).

Those who see him give rise to fond delight,

Without fear, untainted by defilement.

His mind, most excellent, is at peace,

Liberated from all bonds,

Accomplishing all wisdom—

The Muni, the great Bull-King among bulls,

Whom none in all the world can equal,

Able to rescue all sentient beings,

Whether sick or burdened with worry.

Clad in the saṃghāṭī robe,

Profound and deep as that which is unmoving.

I take up these similes,

With mind at peace, to extol you.

Like the Tāla tree of gold (Kim Đa La),

Its branches and leaves all upright;

Like a pillar of gold,

Its radiance shining brilliantly.

Again, as upon that gold

Is steeped the fragrance of Candana (sandalwood),

Just so are the marks of the Buddha's body—

To liken it thus does not exhaust it.

Or like that golden mountain,

A single peak towering high aloft;

When a strong wind blows at that time,

It still stands firm and abides here.

Or one speaks of the asuras

Doing battle with the realm of the devas:

The axle of the golden chariot is broken,

And of itself it appears here.

Or one speaks of Śakra's parasol (Đế Thích),

Wholly of gold, perfectly accomplished,

Especially radiant and shining—

Suddenly it appears in this place.

Or one speaks of the deva Vaiśravaṇa (Đa Văn),

His subtle and wondrous precious towers and halls,

Using all manner of jewels for their emblems—

Suddenly they are here.

Or the Buddha-Mother who upholds the earth (Trì Địa),

The ground splitting open to reveal precious things,

Sending forth all kinds of radiance—

Suddenly they appear here.

The Buddha, having given in charity and taught and transformed, naturally vanished from sight. At that time the Princess sat cross-legged, her mind single-pointedly concentrated in contemplation, recollecting and thinking upon the body of the Buddha. At that very moment the elder's son, who at first was in that garden, was made by his kinsmen to drink wine until drunk, and they said to one another: "We may use his hand here to take the door-key and go to the house to look upon the sick one." When they opened the door, they saw that his wife was like a celestial maiden (apsaras); everyone was startled and astonished, ceaselessly offering greetings.

When the elder's son entered and saw how truly upright and proper she was, his wife recounted the matter above and told her husband the whole story. "Now the Buddha, the World-Honored One, is the supreme field of merit; I must now go there to revere and make offerings." After he had performed that Buddha-service, he then himself uttered a vow, saying: "If upon my body there yet remain evil deeds drawing down ugly retribution, I vow no longer to receive them again.

And may all sentient beings in the world be parted from this ugly body; may they all become upright and proper." Then before the Buddha he spoke a verse once more:

The World-Honored One, of marks most wondrous,

Adorned and complete in every way,

Is able to cause sentient beings,

Those who behold him, to attain their wish.

I now, with my few wholesome deeds,

Together with all sentient beings,

Would have removed every ugly cause,

That all may obtain adorned recompense.

The Buddha said: O virtuous woman! I do not praise myself, I speak no false words, I do not seek offerings. In accordance with the various karmic retributions that sentient beings have received, I give rise to the mind of great compassion to rescue and aid them. He then spoke a verse, saying:

I am for the world the Tamer and Guide (Vināyaka),

Not for fame and renown, nor for gain and support;

Skillfully able to extinguish that parasol of the five desires,

Able to make the minds of sentient beings peaceful and secure.

The three knowledges and the two practices are all complete;

Ever for humans and devas I create what is auspicious.

I have subdued the host of māras and foes;

Ultimately there is none who surpasses me.

Far departed from the wrongs of the three realms,

Giving rise to no fevered affliction, my mind is liberated;

Causing the habit-energies to be no more,

Only then do I accept the offerings of the world.

Even should sentient beings do evil again,

This mind is unmoving, like empty space;

I vow to take up the burden of those foolish ones,

To attain and realize perfect clarity, the wisdom without outflows.

If there be a bhikṣu among the fourfold assembly,

Or one who comes to me to joyfully hear the Dharma,

Or one who fully fulfills the rules of discipline,

He shall assuredly become a person of wisdom.

I was the Crown Prince, son of Śuddhodana (Tịnh Phạn),

Who joyfully cultivated ascetic practices in the mountain caves,

And gained release from the sufferings of birth, aging, and sickness;

By this I attained the unsurpassed Way.

By reason of that Princess, the Buddha Śākya, the Honored One, caused her mind to be pure in giving, and her body in the present life became upright, majestic, and beautiful. If there be one who wishes to seek the supreme joy, he should go to the place of the Buddha and make pure offerings. This is called the Buddha's exposition of the Right Conduct of the Canopy of Merit. O bhikṣus! You should joyfully follow it and preserve it. With respect to giving, precepts, and concentration, you should diligently cultivate and study.

The Sūtra of the Collected Practices of the Right Conduct of the Canopy of Merit (Puṇya-cchattra-caryā-saṃgraha Sūtra)

End of Scroll Eight