長明禪師語錄序
Preface to the Record of Chan Master Changming
海內禪宗，激揚祖道者，代不之人。若夫繼續心燈，親承密印，振鐸斯世，闡發奧旨，播之語言文字間，而一時緇白欽歸，而推重其人，宣傳其言，相與尊之禮之，以共稱揚於名勝之地。是當時之善姓，固因言以傳其人，而不知其人之實副於言，與人之有補於名勝之地為之也。余宰沅邑，歲經數易，所謂名山大川，所稱善知識者，余嘗疑其以勝地為郵舍，以說法為聲聞者有之，猶未之過而扣焉。時有長明禪師者，初遊龍泉山，相侍於穎秀老人之門，勤修參悟，蓋以有得。遽老人示寂後，師乃首立法幢於澧之七星山，次豎剎竿於沅之明山，復自沅歸辰，掃穎公塔。返舟經浦市，而士庶耆老久聆師德，茲幸質之，遂延入浦峰禪寺，請主法席。雖人之遇合有機，寺之興廢有數，師之行藏有地，咸於此可概見矣。師自入是寺，睹其殿閣樓臺，自經兵燹，盡屬傾圮，遂令剃度弟子各領職事，苦行募修，未及三年，百廢俱舉。是師之有功於興廢，師之不以勝地為郵舍也。殳寺成大觀，開堂說法，出昔之所悟者達之於言，即以今之所言者傳之於後，相與登進後人，振醒蒙昧，一片婆心，期披宣於生前，甚無已也。未幾而師圓寂，遂塔於寺之左。其嗣法門人法柱大師以所輯請余為之序，余亦何以辨師之行之有異而為之辭？緣訪之紳衿耆老，稔述其人非復聲聞說法、空言無補之可比也。余始取其所著而閱之，見其言每從靜悟中出，字字性宗，句句真偈。余乃焚香遙禮，三復其語，心意豁然，始知有真善知識在邇。惜哉！覿面難逢，緣乎！緣乎！余用是服其人之可傳，非僅傳夫言也，蓋以服其人之有德於言，而言與人之可並傳也。後之君子讀是錄也，即師之語以思師之人，且以思師之勞心於勝地，及終塔於是地者，以思其語與人爾。浦峰自是其不朽已，師之語錄獨可斁歟？
Within the Chan tradition of our land, those who have inspired and transmitted the ancestral path have been many across the generations. As for those who continue the lamp of mind-to-mind transmission, personally receive the secret seal, and proclaim the teachings in this world—elucidating profound truths through words and writings—monastics and laypeople alike look up to them with reverence. They honor such teachers, spread their words, and gather to praise them in places of spiritual renown.
The virtuous people of that time came to know these teachers through their words, yet they did not fully realize that the teachers themselves were the living fulfillment of those words, nor that individuals could actually benefit the sacred places they dwelled in.
When I served as magistrate in Yuán County, I changed posts several times. As for the so-called "great mountains and rivers" and those reputed "spiritual guides," I often suspected that some used such sacred sites as mere inns and treated teaching as nothing more than an echo of words. Yet I never had the chance to visit and question them directly.
At that time, there was the Great Master Changming (Eternal Light). He first traveled to Longquan Mountain, attending the Elder Yingxiu with diligence, cultivating practice and awakening insight—indeed, he had realized something profound. After the Elder passed into stillness, the Master first established the Dharma banner at Qixing Mountain in Li Prefecture, then set up the teaching staff at Ming Mountain in Yuan Prefecture, and later returned from Yuan to Chen Prefecture to pay homage at Elder Yingxiu's stupa. Returning by boat through Pu City, the local gentry and elders—having long heard of the Master’s virtue and now fortunate to meet him—invited him to Pufeng Chan Temple and requested him to lead the Dharma seat.
Although encounters between people depend on conditions, the rise and fall of temples follow their own cycles, and a teacher's movements are governed by place—all these can be glimpsed here.
Upon entering this temple, the Master saw that its halls, pavilions, and towers—ravaged by war—had completely fallen into ruin. He immediately assigned duties to his disciples and undertook a bitter ascetic practice of fundraising for repair. Within less than three years, every neglected task was accomplished. Thus, the Master’s merit lay in reviving what had decayed, and he did not treat this sacred place as a mere inn.
When the temple was restored to grandeur and he ascended the hall to teach, he expressed in words what he had realized in silence. And then he transmitted what he spoke for later generations, guiding disciples forward and awakening the ignorant. With a compassionate heart, he wished only to spread his teachings during his lifetime—and so, tirelessly.
Before long, the Master passed into Parinirvāṇa and his stupa was built to the left of the temple.
His Dharma heir, the Great Master Fazhu (Dharma Pillar), compiled his records and asked me to write a preface. How could I distinguish the uniqueness of the Master’s practice and express it in words? I consulted local officials and elders, who told me repeatedly that this man was nothing like those who merely echo teachings with empty words and no real benefit.
I then took up his writings and read them. I saw that his words arose from silent realization—every character was of true nature, every sentence a genuine verse. I lit incense and bowed from afar, read his words three times, and my mind opened wide. Only then did I realize that a true spiritual teacher had been nearby all along. What a pity! To meet face-to-face yet fail to truly encounter—is this not conditioned fate?
Thus, I came to honor this man as worthy of transmission—not merely his words. For I respected that his virtue manifested in his speech, such that both his words and his person could be passed down together.
May later noble readers of this record, through the Master’s words, contemplate his person—and further contemplate how he devoted himself to this sacred place, and how his stupa ultimately rests here. This will allow them to envision both his words and his presence.
Pufeng will surely be imperishable through this—how could the Master’s recorded teachings ever fade away?
康熙壬子歲中秋，知沅陵縣事西蜀梓州髮弟子李昌齡沐手拜題。
In the autumn of the year 1672, during the Mid-Autumn Festival, Li Changling, a lay Buddhist devotee from Zizhou in western Sichuan serving as the magistrate of Yuanling County, respectfully composed this inscription with cleansed hands.