Hōgen Points to the Curtain

Banshō's commentary on the case

Before the meal Hōgen came up for consultation and pointed with his hand to the curtain. Two monks went together to roll it up. Hōgen said, “One gained; one lost.” Qi of Dongchan asked, “How do you understand it, senior monk?” Some say that because one monk did not understand the intention, he went to roll up the curtain. Others say the one to whom Hōgen pointed understood, while the one who went without being pointed to lost. Is understanding it this way acceptable or not? Since it is not permitted, let me ask you, senior monk: which one gained and which one lost? Banshō says: washing a clod of earth in mud. This does not concern Hōgen alone. One day Nansen told a monk, “There was a fine wind last night.” The monk also said, “There was a fine wind last night.” Nansen said, “It broke one pine before the gate.” The monk also said, “It broke one pine before the gate.” Nansen next told another monk, “There was a fine wind last night.” The monk asked, “What wind was that?” Nansen said, “It broke one pine before the gate.” The monk asked, “What pine was that?” Nansen said, “One gained; one lost.” The curtain-pointing story has an exceptionally effective strategy for working with people. In rolling up the curtain, the two monks each have a road on their own side. Hōgen first gave one seal, fixing it so there could be no movement or alteration. On Hōgen's side, bright and dark interpenetrate—the mechanism that kills and gives life; the realm of the great person is known by Samantabhadra. Everywhere people consider leaving gain and loss and forgetting right and wrong to be highest. Hōgen ran into the sea of right and wrong and made his livelihood in the pit of gain and loss. Only a person without gain or loss can determine the gain and loss of all under heaven.³ Banshō's raising it this way also has gain and loss. Your coming forward this way also has gain and loss. Only someone deeply understanding the source of benefit and harm can compare increase and decrease. This is called a ready-made public case, requiring no further investigation. Because people cannot decide it completely, Tendō cannot avoid provoking litigation. The ancients, unable to avoid it, forcibly named the fundamental affair. “Pine is straight; thorn crooked; swan white; crow black” originally comes from the Surangama Sutra. Tendō transforms it into “crane is long, duck short.” The Zhuangzi says, “What is long is not excessive; what is short is not insufficient. Thus though a duck's legs are short, lengthening them brings distress; though a crane's are long, cutting them brings grief.”² A popular proverb says, “If you want freedom from vexation, rely on your proper portion.” How could this concern only the people of Fuxi's age forgetting order and disorder? Confucius is said to have declared, “In the western region is a great sage who does not govern, yet there is no disorder.” Governance and disorder are gain and loss. The Third Ancestor said, “Put gain and loss, right and wrong, aside all at once.” In the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes, the first nine says, “Hidden dragon; do not act.” The nine in the fourth says, “Perhaps leaping in the abyss.” The Record of the Qin Terrace says that when Wang Cizhong reached twenty, he transformed Cangjie's ancient script into clerical writing. The First Emperor of Qin summoned him, but he did not come. Enraged, the emperor imprisoned him in a caged cart and sent him to the capital. On the road Wang transformed into a bird, escaped the bonds, and flew to the western mountains, where he shed two wing feathers. At present the Great Wing-Stone in Guichuan County is said to mark that place.⁴ This versifies the ancient style: coming forth or withdrawing, acting or remaining hidden, each rests in its own portion. Before a buddha appeared in the world, how many sutras, treatises, and public cases were there? Once the ancestor came from the West, there was immediately gain and loss. Why not understand it before the curtain was pointed to? “The fleabane follows the wind and turns through emptiness. The boat cuts across the current and reaches shore.” These two lines point out the two monks' gain and loss. Tendō's work here is substantial and not easy.⁵ To speak this way: without the hand that gives life, how could one kill a person? Therefore he also says, “The keen patch-robed monk within it—observe Qingliang's methods.” Tell me: according to what command can it be like this? Wait until you have taken a blow; then I will tell you.