You are on page 1of 67

Knowing Illusion: Bringing a Tibetan

Debate into Contemporary Discourse:


Volume II: Translations The Yakherds
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/knowing-illusion-bringing-a-tibetan-debate-into-conte
mporary-discourse-volume-ii-translations-the-yakherds/
Knowing Illusion: Bringing a Tibetan
Debate into Contemporary Discourse
Volume II
Knowing Illusion:
Bringing a Tibetan
Debate into
Contemporary
Discourse
Volume II: Translations

T H E YA K H E R D S

1
3
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers
the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education
by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University
Press in the UK and certain other countries.

Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press


198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America.

© Oxford University Press 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in


a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the
prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted
by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction
rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the
above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the
address above.

You must not circulate this work in any other form


and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.

Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data


Names: Yakherds, The, editors.
Title: Knowing illusion: Bringing a Tibetan debate into contemporary
discourse / The Yakherds. | Volume II: translations |
New York : Oxford University Press, 2021|
Includes bibliographical references and index.|
Identifiers: LCCN 2021029427 (print) | LCCN 2021029428 (ebook) |
ISBN 9780197603680 (paperback) | ISBN 9780197603673 (hardback) |
ISBN 9780197603703 (epub) | ISBN 9780197603710 (oso) | ISBN 9780197603697 (updf)
Subjects: LCSH: Knowledge, Theory of (Buddhism) | Buddhist logic.
Classification: LCC BQ4440.K66 2021 (print) | LCC BQ4440 (ebook) |
DDC 181/.043—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021029427
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021029428

DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780197603673.001.0001

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2
Paperback printed by Marquis, Canada
Hardback printed by Bridgeport National Bindery, Inc., United States of America
Preface

This is the second volume of a two-​volume study, the first of which is a


philosophical history and critical examination of the debate between
Geluk scholars and their Sakya and Kagyü interlocutors inspired by
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen’s (sTag tshang Lo tsā ba Shes rab rin
chen, 1405–​ 1477) charge of “eighteen great burdens of contradiction.”
These contradictions were leveled against Tsongkhapa Losang Drakpa
(Tsong kha pa bLo bzang grags pa, 1357–​1419) in the fifth chapter of
Taktsang’s doxographic work Freedom from Extremes Accomplished through
Comprehensive Knowledge of Philosophy (Grub mtha’ kun shes nas mtha’ bral
sgrub pa). We follow that debate from its inception in the fifteenth century to
the present day in our studies in Volume I. This volume presents translations
of the principal texts comprising that debate that have hitherto not been
available in European languages.
We advise reading these two books together. This volume contains most of
the original material relevant to this debate; the study volume discusses the
history of the debate, including the issues discussed by Indian philosophers
that set the agenda for future exegetes. We then move on to early Tibetan
disputes regarding which Indic sources ought to be regarded as normative,
and how further controversies developed as Tibetans attempted to work out
the conceptual ramifications of the philosophical corpus they inherited from
India. The bulk of the first book analyzes the philosophical details of the var-
ious positions that were defended in Tibet.
Hence, the reader who wishes to start with the primary material can read
this volume and use the study volume as a guide to this literature; the reader
who wishes to have an analytical overview of this episode in Tibetan intellec-
tual history and to see its connections to contemporary philosophy can read
the study volume and use the texts in this volume to get a feel for how these
ideas were expressed in Tibet and how various Tibetan philosophers pros-
ecuted their respective arguments and analyses. Each work was written to
stand on its own, but careful reading of both, either in tandem or sequentially,
will provide a more comprehensive picture of the philosophical discussions
viii Preface

that involved many of Tibet’s greatest minds for centuries and that delve into
fundamental aspects of Buddhist thought and practice.
There are texts relevant to this debate that are not collected in this book,
although they are discussed in the study volume. The first is Tsongkhapa’s
own exposition in Great Treatise on the Stages of the Path to Awakening
(Lam rim chen mo). This is a tour de force of Buddhist philosophy, in which
Tsongkhapa examines in great detail and analytical subtlety the role of epis-
temology in the conventional world, along with the status of conventional
truth in Prāsaṅgika Madhyamaka—​the philosophical tradition that came to
be widely regarded in Tibet as the supreme articulation of Buddhist thought.
That account is already beautifully translated in the Lamrim Chenmo
Translation Committee’s Great Exposition of the Stages of the Path to
Enlightenment (Lam rim chen mo) (Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion Publications,
2000–​2002, vol. 3: 155–​184), and we recommend that the interested reader
consult that text. Khedrupjé (mKhas grub rje dGe legs dpal bzang, 1385–​
1438) offers a synopsis of this view in his Great Digest (sTong thun chen
mo), translated by José Cabezón in A Dose of Emptiness (Ithaca, NY: State
University of New York Press, 1993). That exposition also provides impor-
tant context for the debates discussed here. Finally, Jamyang Shepa’s (’Jam
dbyangs bzhad pa’i rdo rje Ngag dbang brtson ’grus, 1648–​1721/​2) reply to
Taktsang is available in Jeffry Hopkins’s translation of his Great Exposition of
Philosophical Systems (Grub mtha’ chen mo) in Maps of the Profound (Ithaca,
NY: Snow Lion Publications, 2003). Because reliable translations have al-
ready been published, although we discuss them in Volume I, we do not offer
new translations here.
The reader will note that while Volume I is coauthored by the Yakherds in
toto and most chapters are not attributed to a particular member of the group,
each of the translations in Volume II is identified with several Yakherds.
This is because in each case, following a series of meetings in which we es-
tablished uniform translation policies, vocabulary, and so on, individual
Yakherds volunteered to do the initial draft translations of certain texts.
Those translations were then edited by the group to ensure accuracy, uni-
formity, and clarity. But since so much of the work takes place in that original
drafting, we give credit to those who completed those initial translations and
to others who made substantial contributions to subsequent translation and
emendation, referencing, and so on. We have endeavored, in our collective
editing, to keep the approach to translation and the vocabulary used uniform
across these texts.
Preface ix

The five treatises translated here are the most important (barring
Tsongkhapa’s initial analysis in the Great Treatise) in this centuries-​long de-
bate. We present them in order of composition, beginning with Taktsang’s
Comprehensive Knowledge of Philosophy. This is followed by two works from
the first of two successive Karmapas, as it was the Karma Kagyü order that
took up Taktsang’s banner in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. These
are an excerpt from One Hundred Thousand Discussions of Mahāmudrā
(Phyag rgya chen po’i sgros ’bum) and another from Chariot of the Dakpo
Kagyü Adepts (Dwags brgyud grub pa’i shing rta) by the eight Karmapa,
Mikyö Dorjé (Mi bskyod rdo rje, 1507–​1554). We next present Panchen
Losang Chökyi Gyaltsen’s (Paṇ chen bLo bzang chos kyi rgyal mtshan, 1570–​
1662) Lion’s Roar of Scripture and Reasoning (Lung rig seng ge nga ro), a de-
fense of Tsongkhapa’s presentation of Prāsaṅgika against Taktsang and his
Kagyü allies. We then offer two of the ninth Karmapa’s, Wangchuk Dorjé’s
(dBang phyug rdo rje, 1556–​1603) texts: Conferring the Definitive Meaning
(Nges don mchog ster) and Concise Compendium of the Middle Way (dBu ma’i
don bsdu bsdus pa), in which he responds to the Geluk position by radical-
izing Taktsang’s exposition of Madhyamaka, claiming that Prāsaṅgikas say
nothing at all from their own perspective and put forward no philosophical
claims; they only report the perspectives of others. We close with Purchok
Ngawang Jampa’s (Phur lcog Ngag dbang byams pa, 1682–​1762) Diamond
Slivers (rDo rje’i gzegs rna), a nuanced rejoinder to Tsongkhapa’s critics and
defense of the Geluk position.
Acknowledgments

The Yakherds have worked on this book for more than six years, and many
people and organizations have helped us along the way. We are grateful for
the research funding we received in a Discovery grant from the Australian
Research Council (DP160100947: “A Tibetan Polemical Debate and Its
Contemporary Philosophical Relevance”) and a Tier 2 Grant from the
Singapore Ministry of Education, which provided support for workshops in
India, Singapore, and Australia, as well as other costs related to our work. We
also thank Ms. Grace Kwan of Yale-​NUS College for her tremendous support
in the preparation of this grant and for her work administering it.
The project has had four bases of institutional support: (1) Deakin
University, particularly the Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and
Globalisation; (2) the University of Tasmania; (3) the Central Institute for
Higher Tibetan Studies (CIHTS); and (4) Yale-​NUS College. We wish to
thank the administrations of all four universities for allowing research leave
for members of our group, and particularly Deakin University for support
in administering the grants and for the expert financial work of Amanda
Sutherland, Scott Cavanagh, Amy Bieser, and Amy Shay.
Sonam Thakchöe wishes to thank the University of Tasmania for providing
periods of research leave that enabled him to attend workshops and for its on-
going support for the Asian Philosophy Program. Douglas Duckworth would
like to thank Temple University for giving him a Presidential Humanities and
Arts Research Program Grant and for supporting his research on this project.
Our work has benefitted enormously from the generous support and col-
laborative input of CIHTS and its Vice-​Chancellor, Ven. Professor Ngawang
Samten. CIHTS hosted four meetings at its campus in Sarnath, India, and
made available the resources of the Śāntarakṣita Library, which houses one
of the world’s premier collections of works on Buddhist philosophy. In ad-
dition, two of the Institute’s leading scholars, Khenpo Tashi Tsering and
Geshé Yeshes Thabkhas, whose breadth and depth of knowledge contrib-
uted substantially to the final products of this project, were members of the
Yakherds team.
xii Acknowledgments

A number of people provided help to one or more Yakherds. We are par-


ticularly grateful to Paul Hackett, whose search engine for Tibetan and
Sanskrit texts has proven to be an incredibly useful tool for research. At sev-
eral junctures along the way, Paul also sent us electronic texts that helped in
locating citations or sources for the arguments studied in this project.
Lobsang Dorjee Rabling served as Research Assistant from the begin-
ning and went well beyond the requirements of his position. His proactive
approach to his work yielded bibliographical resources and material that
have been integrated into the two volumes that are the major outputs of this
project.
We are grateful to Khenpo Chodrak Thenphel Rinpoché for his expert and
generous help in resolving difficult passages in Taktsang’s Comprehensive
Knowledge of Philosophy. His knowledge of this literature, and of Buddhist
thought in general, were enormously helpful in the process of grappling
with the arguments presented in Taktsang’s text and their conceptual
ramifications. Molly McPartlin and Hallie Jane Richeson provided valuable
editorial assistance.
Notes on Translation

In preparing these translations, we have adopted a few translation policies


that deserve mention. First, we have used the same vocabulary and transla-
tion protocols for each text, so that they can easily be read together. There are
many textual citations in each of these works, and often the same source is
rendered slightly differently in different Tibetan treatises, reflecting the use
of different Tibetan editions of Indian works. We have—​unless noted in the
text—​used the version of a quotation as it is cited in its first occurrence in this
debate.
Second, we have translated these sources as contemporary philosophers
generally translate Western philosophical texts. That is, we take the sentence,
or sometimes even the paragraph, as the unit of translation, not the word,
asking always how this sentence or set of sentences in classical Tibetan would
be written in contemporary English, so as to produce a readable version. We
hope that these will be accessible to contemporary philosophers not con-
versant with Tibetan or Sanskrit. This also means that we favor contempo-
rary philosophical terminology over Buddhist Hybrid English1 and that we
eschew the use of square brackets to indicate lexical material elided in the
Tibetan but necessary in the English expression of these thoughts. Our glos-
saries indicate how we have rendered important terms.

1 The term “Buddhist Hybrid English” was coined by Paul Griffiths (1981) to characterize the

efforts of translators of Buddhist texts to construct neologisms to render terms from Asian languages.
Griffiths contends that these are often incomprehensible and present a barrier to understanding for
contemporary readers.
The Translators

The international group that produced this book—​José Cabezón, Ryan


Conlon, Thomas Doctor, Douglas Duckworth, Jed Forman, Jay Garfield,
John Powers, Sonam Thakchöe, Tashi Tsering, and Geshé Yeshes Thabkhas—​
has adopted the collective name “Yakherds,” an allusion to the Cowherds,
who authored a groundbreaking collaborative study of the two truths,
Moonshadows: Conventional Truth in Buddhist Philosophy (Cowherds,
2011) and of Buddhist ethics, Moonpaths: Ethics and Emptiness (Cowherds,
2015). The Cowherds’ work demonstrates the usefulness of a collabora-
tive approach to Buddhist Studies and cross-​ cultural philosophy. Two
Cowherds—​Sonam Thakchöe and Jay Garfield—​are also members of our
present collective. In consideration of the fact that this book examines
Tibetan debates regarding the two truths that have their origins in India,
“Yakherds” (gyag rdzi) suggested itself as a Tibetan equivalent of the Indian
“Cowherds” (gopāla).
The name “Cowherds” is an allusion to a famous passage in Candrakīrti’s
(c. 600–​650) Autocommentary on Introduction to the Middle Way in which
he denounces the confused thinking of philosophers who engage in niggling
disputes regarding grammar, epistemology, and ontology—​ which he
contrasts with the pragmatic, evidence-​based perspectives of ordinary, un-
educated people. He claims that his approach to philosophy accords with the
understanding of the latter group, but that philosophers—​with their convo-
luted and internally inconsistent systems and hair-​splitting dialectics—​are
unable to grasp this. He declares that his perspective is concordant with
“what even people like cowherds and women recognize.”2
Despite the sexism implicit in Candrakīrti’s phrase, it highlights the
differences between how the world appears to philosophers versus how it
is experienced by ordinary people unconcerned with academic philosoph-
ical debates and theses. In ancient India, women were seldom educated,

2 Candrakīrti, Autocommentary on Introduction to the Middle Way (Madhyamakāvatāra-​bhāṣya;

Tib. dBu ma la ’jug pa’i bshad pa), sDe dge #3862, bKa’ ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. ’a: 254a.5: gnag rdzi dang
bud med la sogs pa yan cad la grags pa; Skt. gopālāṅganājana-​prasiddha).
xvi The Translators

and cowherds were the equivalent of today’s “man in the street” (or in the
pasture), whose knowledge of the world is derived from empirical obser-
vation and recognition of patterns and regularities. These are used to make
pragmatic decisions (such as when to move cows into the fields and when
to bring them home) that are uninflected by the sorts of abstractions that
engage philosophers pursuing their craft. Candrakīrti, as we will see, claims
to accept all the epistemic instruments used by ordinary people (including
perception, inference, testimony, and analogy) and to do so in a manner that
is consistent with mundane epistemological practices. But this ostensibly
down-​to-​earth approach to epistemic warrant—​to understanding what jus-
tifies assertions—​sparked heated debates in India, which continued and were
expanded in Tibet. Some of the most philosophically compelling of these
debates constitute the subject matter of the present volume.
1
Freedom from Extremes Accomplished
through Comprehensive Knowledge
of Philosophy, Chapter 5
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen

The Author: Life and Times

Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen was born in Langdro Khangmar in the


Taklung region of Yamdrok. His father’s name was Döndrup Gyelpo (Don
grub rgyal po), and his mother was Lhamo Gyel (Lha mo rgyal).1 Taktsang
lived during a time of religious ferment and competition between established
and emerging Buddhist groups vying for political power and the patronage
of wealthy supporters. The Sakya order to which Taktsang belonged had been
the power elite in Tibet during the time of the Mongol Empire (1206–​1368),
when its hierarchs served as regents of the Mongol overlords. But following
the Mongols’ collapse into factions consumed by internecine conflicts, the
remaining clans of the still-​powerful empire were no longer able to impose
their will over the Tibetan Plateau. Instead, individual Mongol hegemons lent
support—​both financial and military—​to various Tibetan religious groups.
In the power vacuum left by the collapse of the Mongol Empire, Tibet
entered a period of civilian rule, first by the Pakmodrupas, and later by the
Rinpungpas, who supplanted them. The first Pakmodrupa king, Jangchup
Gyeltsen (Byang chub rgyal mtshan, 1302–​1364), seized estates that had
belonged to Sakya. Unable to prevent this, the Sakyapas were forced to cede
power to Jangchup Gyeltsen in 1350, and he became the most powerful ruler
in Tibet. Tibet’s civilian hegemons patronized various religious groups,

1 This summary of Taktsang’s life is mainly based on his autobiography (Taktsang 2007e), with

additional material from Kodani (2017), Cabezón (1995), Dondor and Tenzin Chödrak (1993: 510–​
512), and Tupten Nyima (2007: 22–​30).

Knowing Illusion: Bringing a Tibetan Debate into Contemporary Discourse Volume II. The Yakherds, Oxford University
Press. © Oxford University Press 2021. DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780197603673.003.0001
2 Knowing Illusion

often as part of their attempts to gain or solidify power. While the Sakyapas
remained wealthy and influential, they were now one of a number of factions
in a competitive religious marketplace.
The Gelukpas, who during Tsongkhapa’s time had avoided political
entanglements, gradually emerged as a rising power. Tsongkhapa had estab-
lished Ganden, the order’s first monastery, in 1410, and his followers expanded
the influence and spread of the brand he initiated. By Taktsang’s time, the
Gelukpas had become well-​established as an intellectual and political force in
Tibet. Philosophers of other traditions viewed them as a threat and attacked
key aspects of Tsongkhapa’s system. Taktsang’s charge that Tsongkhapa’s pre-
sentation of the two truths was riddled with internal contradictions was one of
the most potent assaults on the still-​nascent Gelukpa orthodoxy, one that con-
tinues to resonate in the works of Sakyapas and Karma Kagyüpas today.
In his religious autobiography, Taktsang presents himself as a precocious child
with a strong inclination toward Buddhism. He reports that he had deep faith in
the Buddha’s teachings at an early age, and he received the threefold refuge when
he was three years old.2 His parents taught him prayers to Tārā when he was five,
and when he was eight he traveled to Topgyel to begin formal study.3
In addition to Buddhist subjects, Taktsang learned calligraphy, and he also
received tantric initiation in practices related to Jetāri’s lineage of Amitāyus
(Dze ta ri’i lugs kyi tshe dpag med) from Gyatön Sönam Chöchok (rGya ston
bSod nams chos mchog, d.u.). Later, Chöjé Drakpa Sangpo (Chos rje Grags
pa bzang po, d.u.) initiated Taktsang into the practice of Red Yamāri with
Five Deities (gShin rje gshed dmar po lha lnga).
Taktsang’s biographies suggest that his parents were initially reluctant to
grant him permission to receive full monastic ordination.4 In his autobiog-
raphy, he indicates that he became fully ordained before the standard age of
twenty.5 His preceptor, Sengé Gyeltsen Pelsangpo (Seng ge rgyal mtshan dpal
bzang po, d.u.), gave him the monastic name Sherab Rinchen.
In his autobiography, Taktsang clearly intends to demonstrate his
grounding in the tradition: he lists many teachers who gave him instructions

2 Taktsang (2007e: 1). This involves formally “taking refuge” in the three jewels: the Buddha,

Dharma, and Monastic Community (Saṃgha). This is the standard way of officially becoming a
Buddhist.
3 Ibid., 5.
4 Ibid., 3.
5 This may have been the reason for his parents’ reluctance to accede to Taktsang’s wishes to be-

come a fully ordained monk. In Tibet, it is customary for monks to wait until they are at least twenty
years of age before taking full ordination.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 3

or empowerments, and his characterizations of them suggest that they


were regarded as eminent religious luminaries. One of these is Wangchuk
Sönam Rinchenpel (dBang phyug bsod nams rin chen ’phel, d.u.), whom
Taktsang describes as a “great scholar among scholars.” This master provided
instructions in the Kālacakra Tantra (Dus kyi ’khor lo’i rgyud). During the
period Taktsang studied with him, he wrote the first of several works on this
text, Ocean of Teachings: The General Meaning of the Kālacakra Tantra (Dus
’khor spyi don bstan pa’i rgya mtsho).
Despite frequent statements of humility and self-​deprecation, the works of
Tibet’s philosophical luminaries also often contain remarkably explicit claims
to unique depth and originality. In this regard, Taktsang is no exception. He
states that he ranks among the most accomplished scholars of his time and is
one of only a handful of Tibetans in his generation to truly grasp the thought
of the Buddha and Indian masters such as Nāgārjuna and Candrakīrti. This
tone is also evident in Comprehensive Knowledge of Philosophy. Near the end
of the “Madhyamaka” chapter, he sums up his work:

All of my claims here rest on the foundation of the Sage’s teachings because all
of the reasons just explained are the Victor’s intention. That said, the analysis
that clearly fleshes out such ideas as the three kinds of cyclic existence and so
forth are my own. No one else has ever taught these publically—​not even the
six ornaments and the two supreme ones have done so. Therefore, the sun of
my discernment is indeed capable of illuminating all objects of knowledge,
but should its light not fall on those who stay in caves facing north, then that
is not the fault of the sun. I speak thus, feeling both proud and despondent.6

In 1437, Taktsang received instructions on grammatical texts from Tukjé


Pelsangpo (Thugs rje dPal bzang po, d.u.). These included Kārtikeya’s (d.u.)
Assemblage (Kalāpa; Tib. Ka lā pa’i mdo) and Candragomin’s (c. seventh
century) Candra’s Grammar (Cāndra-​vyākaraṇa-​sūtra; Tib. Lung ston pa
tsandra pa’i mdo). Taktsang subsequently studied a range of related subjects,
including poetics and metrics. His expertise in these fields of learning was
influential in his conclusion that these fields are not exclusively Buddhist,
but rather are part of the intellectual apparatus shared by Buddhist and non-​
Buddhist scholars.

6 Taktsang (2007b: 358–​359).


4 Knowing Illusion

One of Taktsang’s principal charges against Tsongkhapa’s presentation of


Madhyamaka was that the latter’s attempt to integrate the epistemology of
Dignāga and Dharmakīrti with the Prāsaṅgika approach of Candrakīrti is
fundamentally misguided. Epistemology, according to Taktsang, is a mun-
dane field of knowledge—​just like linguistics, poetics, or medicine—​and has
no intrinsically religious import. Together with his charge that Tsongkhapa’s
Madhyamaka was replete with contradictions, Taktsang’s critiques provoked
outrage among the Gelukpas, beginning with the first Panchen Lama, Losang
Chökyi Gyaltsen. Taktsang’s fellow Sakyapas, however, did not cite his critique
in their own works. As we will see, Taktsang’s most explicit appropriators were
the eighth and ninth Karmapas, Mikyö Dorjé and Wangchuk Dorjé.
Despite the sectarian tone of Comprehensive Knowledge of Philosophy,
Taktsang was eclectic in his studies, receiving instructions from masters
of various traditions, including the Gelukpa. His students also included
the Gelukpa scholar Norsang Gyatso (Nor bzang rgya mtsho, 1441–​1527).
Although Taktsang’s Madhyamaka position was subsequently largely
ignored within the Sakya order, in traditional histories he is counted
among a triad of eminent Sakyapas that includes Gorampa Sönam Sengé
(Go rams pa bSod nams seng ge, 1429–​1489) and Shakya Chokden (Shā
kya mchog ldan, 1428–​ 1507).7 His characterizations of problems in
Tsongkhapa’s system have been trenchantly attacked by Gelukpas up to the
present day, indicating they constitute a philosophical challenge worthy of
careful consideration.

Taktsang and the Proper Understanding


of Madhyamaka Philosophy

Taktsang’s charge of “eighteen great burdens of contradiction” in Tsongkhapa’s


thought occurs in the context of Taktsang’s articulation of the Prāsaṅgika-​
Svātantrika distinction and of the unique features of the Prāsaṅgika system
that he argues Tsongkhapa misses. Since Taktsang (like Tsongkhapa) grounds
his views in a reading of Candrakīrti’s exposition of Nāgārjuna’s system, the
disagreement also concerns how to interpret Candrakīrti.
Candrakīrti’s corpus is large, and careful cherry-​picking of quotations can
indeed support many distinct interpretations of his thought. Throughout

7 See Dhongthog Rinpoche (2016: 153).


Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 5

this chapter, Taktsang adduces textual sources for his reading of Candrakīrti.
In the works of Losang Chökyi Gyaltsen and Purchok we will see prom-
inent examples of the way his Geluk opponents marshal evidence from
Candrakīrti’s treatises to support their exegeses. We leave it to the reader to
decide who is offering the most compelling analysis of Candrakīrti’s corpus
and who is citing him in misleading ways.
The serious philosophical work begins in part 2 (“The Explanation of the
Actual Madhyamaka”). Taktsang begins by aligning a commitment to con-
ventional epistemic warrants with the Svātantrika school. He argues that an
important difference between Svātantrika and Prāsaṅgika is that the former
claims that the conventional world can be determined and ascertained ob-
jectively (despite the fact that the objects of the conventional world are ulti-
mately deceptive), while the latter denies that this is possible.
Taktsang then argues that a commitment to epistemic warrant only makes
sense if such warrant is obtained objectively, by the power of the objects,
and he adds that acceptance of such objectivity runs counter to being a
Prāsaṅgika. This is an important early salvo against Tsongkhapa, who
argues that the Prāsaṅgika system both requires and makes sense of con-
ventional epistemic warrant. Taktsang characterizes this notion as a “later
blend of the two distinct schools of Madhyamaka thought”—​Svātantrika and
Prāsaṅgika—​and thus “a baseless fabrication.”8
This is the heart of Taktsang’s critique of Tsongkhapa: Prāsaṅgika, he
argues, eschews any commitment to the reality of the conventional world, or
any sense of conventional truth. On this view, the so-​called relative reality
is upon initial Madhyamaka analysis found to be entirely deceptive, and so
false. Yet even this conclusion does not stand up to sustained Madhyamaka
reasoning, and so the entire framework of the two truths—​and indeed truth
and falsity—​is ultimately transcended on the Madhyamaka path. Therefore,
the conventional world is, from a Madhyamaka perspective, not a proper
object of knowledge, where knowledge by definition delivers reality, or the
truth. So epistemic warrant regarding the conventional is incoherent. Verse
12 at the top of the section on Prāsaṅgika summarizes this fundamental
error that issues in the contradictions that Taktsang argues beset the Geluk
system.
Taktsang further argues that buddhas do not know conventional truth
because they are omniscient and are undeceived, and the conventional

8 Taktsang (2007b: 262).


6 Knowing Illusion

truth is false and deceptive.9 In fact, according to Taktsang’s reading, all


scriptural statements that treat buddhas as subjects with knowledge of
conventional objects concern simply the preanalytic context where no
Madhyamaka reasoning has been employed, or where the import of such
analysis has been forgotten. Conventional truth—​the framework of objects,
agents, and actions—​is therefore really not a truth at all nor anything that
can be known. Tsongkhapa’s commitment to the idea that a buddha is an
omniscient being who knows both truths (and whose gnosis is thus a war-
rant for conventional truth) is described by Taktsang as “a primary flaw of
this system.”10
The “eighteen contradictions” appear in the “Extensive Explanation”
subsection in the Prāsaṅgika section. We discuss these in detail in the
study volume and will only survey the principal issues here. The first two
contradictions11 claim that Tsongkhapa’s system is incoherently committed
to the view that there can be knowledge of false objects. The second two
contradictions12 concern inference: Taktsang argues that it is inconsistent to
accept inference but to reject probative arguments.
Taktsang then argues13 that Tsongkhapa’s system is contradictory in
accepting both external objects and the infinite divisibility of matter.
Understanding this alleged contradiction requires attention to an important
hermeneutical device introduced by Taktsang—​his three levels of analysis. In
the context of no analysis—​that of everyone who has either not yet engaged
in Madhyamaka philosophical investigation or forgotten its implications—​it
makes sense to speak of epistemic instruments and warrants. Yet in the second
context—​that of slight Madhyamaka analysis—​it becomes apparent that eve-
ryone (except buddhas) is generally wrong about everything all of the time.
There are therefore no epistemic warrants, except for the gnosis that recognizes
the nature of reality. In the final context—​that of thorough analysis—​the very
framework of knower and known has been exposed as false and is transcended.
This culmination of the Prāsaṅgika path is therefore ineffable.
Taktsang argues that macroscopic objects and knowledge of them make sense
only in the first context and that they make sense only if they are ultimately
composed of partless particles. For if they were infinitely divisible, it would be

9 Ibid., 267.
10 Ibid. 271.
11 Ibid., v.13a–​b.
12 Summarized by Taktsang in verse 13c–​d.
13 In verse 14a.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 7

impossible for them to constitute extended wholes.14 Analysis in the second con-
text, however, reveals that there are no partless particles and that everything is
infinitely divisible. Tsongkhapa’s version of Prāsṅgika, he argues, is committed
to both theses: external objects are real and are epistemically warranted, but also
that objects have parts. Taktsang argues that in trying to maintain both theses at
the same time, this system is also committed to claims that, despite their being in-
dividually true within separate contexts, cannot both be true in a single context.
Taktsang also argues15 that it makes no sense to distinguish—​as Tsongkhapa
and his followers do—​between true and false in a world in which everything
is deceptive. The fact that truth and falsity can be relativized to different kinds
of epistemic subjects (what the world looks like to us is very different, for in-
stance, from how it is experienced by a dog) contradicts the idea that any of us
can really be correct in a definitive sense. The remainder of the contradictions
follows this pattern, except for some that are explicitly exegetical.
Taktsang’s principal charge is that because a Prāsaṅgika must accept the decep-
tiveness of the world, there is no privileged metaphysical perspective from which
a Prāsaṅgika can talk about what is true or false, real or unreal, warranted or un-
warranted in that world. He argues that the vast majority of Buddhist terms and
principles that allegedly describe the nature of reality, the path of awakening, and
the fruition to be attained in fact belong to the unexamined, nonanalytic context,
and that Prāsaṅgikas avail themselves of those terms with this understanding in
mind. There is no special Prāsaṅgika epistemology beyond that which is encoun-
tered in the unanalyzed world, because both epistemology and ontology implode
and dissolve when one follows the Prāsaṅgika path.
Taktsang acknowledges that in the first context it is possible and indeed
necessary to say and understand what Madhyamaka classifies as relative or
conventional truth, but none of this amounts to knowledge in a Madhyamaka
sense. In the second context, we can discuss and comprehend how all of that
dissolves upon analysis. Such understanding offers insight into the ultimate
truth. But even this framework of the two truths, which is the hallmark of
the second context, does not have any metaphysical foundations. In the final
context, knowledge is transcended, and the character of this so-​called third
context is hence inexpressible.

****

14 This pertains to complex debates within Buddhist scholasticism that are discussed in Duckworth

et al. (2016).
15 Verse 15b: 280.
8 Knowing Illusion

Freedom from Extremes Accomplished


through Comprehensive Knowledge of Philosophy

Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen


Translated by Thomas Doctor and Ryan Conlon
With Jay L. Garfield and John Powers
[255]

Chapter 5
Accomplishing Freedom from Extremes by
Refuting the Subtle Twofold Self

The lower schools among our own and other traditions employ inauthentic
textual sources and reasoning. They thereby entrench the innate delusions of
their continuums. But as it has been said:

Yogis are also undermined


By ever superior levels of intellect.16

Thus, [256]17 the better the textual sources and reasoning are, the more one
can refute the imaginings of the reifying mind. Here, the refutation of the
subtle self comprises: (1) a brief presentation of the classification; (2) an ex-
tensive explanation of the framework; (3) a refutation of other aspects of rei-
fication and nihilism; and (4) various elegant explanations.

1. Brief Presentation of the Classification

The first section comprises (1) a general explanation; and (2) specific
explanations.

16 Śāntideva, Entering the Way of Bodhisattvas (Bodhi[sattva]-​caryāvatāra; Tib. Byang chub sems

dpa’i spyod pa la ’jug pa), ix.4a–​b, sDe dge #3871, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. la: 31a.
17 While we have consulted other editions of Taktsang’s text, the page numbers found in square

brackets in this translation are those of Taktsang (2007b). It should be noted that while the Tibetan
text of the autocommentary makes reference to the relevant verses of the root text, it does not
cite them in full. In our translation of the autocommentary, we have chosen to include complete
translations of the root verses at the appropriate places for ease of reading. When we get to the enu-
meration of the 18 contradictions, those will be indicated by numbers in parentheses.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 9

1.1. General Explanation

All philosophical systems presume to refute the two extremes


And to propound the middle way from their respective perspectives.
In particular, the nondualistic false representation view
Is taught as the middle way in sūtras and authentic treatises. [1]‌

All of our own and others’ philosophical systems reflect their exponents’
perspectives. Thus, whatever the proponents of the lower systems affirm—​
despite its actual nonexistence—​constitutes an extreme of reification, whereas
whatever the higher systems deny—​despite its actual existence—​is an extreme
of nihilism. Each school claims that its own position is the middle path beyond
those two extremes. Thus, for example, in his commentary on Thirty Verses,
Sthiramati explains:

Any assertion that the cognitive object is as real as the mind is the extreme
of reification. Any assertion that cognition is as nonexistent as the cognitive
object is the extreme of nihilism. Here I will offer the middle path that is free
from those two.18

Among realists, proponents of Cittamātra who support the nondualistic false


representation view19 in particular make this claim. They invoke the Descent
into Laṅkā Discourse, which states:

Imputed entities do not exist,


But dependent ones do.20
Those who think in terms of the extremes
Of superimposition and deprecation are ruined.21

18 Sthiramati, Commentary on Thirty Verses (Triṃśikā-​bhāṣya; Tib. Sum cu pa’i bshad pa), sDe dge

#4064, bsTan ’gyur, Sems tsam, vol. shi: 146b–​147a. Taktsang’s rendering of this passage differs in
wording from the sDe dge version.
19 The view of false representations (rnam rdzun smra ba; Skt. alīkākāravāda) is the Yogācāra po-

sition upheld by thinkers such as Ratnākaraśānti (c. 970–​1045), according to which both external
objects and their mental representations (ākāra) are unreal.
20 Emend gzhan gyi dbang ni yod ma yin to gzhan gyi dbang ni yod pa ste.
21 Descent into Laṅkā Discourse (Laṅkāvatāra-​sūtra; Tib. Lang kar gshegs pa’i mdo), sDe dge #107,

bKa’ ’gyur, mDo sde, vol. ca: 107b.


10 Knowing Illusion

And the Great Discourse on Emptiness states:

When something is absent in something else, the latter is empty of the


former. That which then remains is existent. This is the middle way, the true
unmistaken view of emptiness.22

And Distinguishing the Middle from Extremes states:

Imagination of the unreal exists. [257]


Duality does not exist in that.
Emptiness exists in this,
And within it, that exists as well.

Neither empty nor nonempty:


This explains everything,
Because of existence, nonexistence, and existence.
This is the middle way.23

Likewise, the author of Ornament of Epistemology24 and many others often


refer to the proponents of false representations as Mādhyamikas.

1.2. Specific Explanations

Specifically, among the supreme exponents of the way of Nāgārjuna,


Buddhapālita and Bhāviveka employed, respectively,
Mere reductios and independent arguments,
And thus Prāsaṅgikas and Svātantrikas are well-​known and accepted among
the learned. [2]‌

Next we turn to those Mādhyamikas, like Nāgārjuna and others, who are not
just called this, but actually belong to that school from among the four phil-
osophical systems. In terms of that Madhyamaka, the Prāsaṅgikas are those

22 Great Discourse on Emptiness (Śūnyatā-​nāma-​mahāsūtra; Tib. mDo chen po stong pa nyid), sDe

dge #290, bKa’ ’gyur, mDo sde, vol. sha: 250b.


23 Maitreya, Distinguishing the Middle from Extremes (Madhyānta-​vibhāga; Tib. dBus dang mtha’

rnam par ’byed pa’i tshig le’ur byas pa), i.2–​3, sDe dge #4021, bsTan ’gyur, Sems tsam, vol. phi: 640b.
24 This refers to Prajñākāragupta (c. eighth century), author of Ornament for Commentary on the

Compendium of Epistemology (Pramāṇa-​vārttikā-alaṃkāra).


Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 11

who refrain from the use of independent reasons—​arguments in which the


triple criteria25 are established by the power of objects, and instead primarily
present mere reductio arguments that expose contradictions within realist
positions. Svātantrikas, however, for the most part employ such independent
arguments in their probative arguments.
These two appellations, Prāsaṅgika and Svātantrika, are well known to
the scholars of India and Tibet. There is also good reason for that: the master
Buddhapālita’s (c. 470–​550) refutation of arising from self and so forth was crit-
icized by the scholar Bhāviveka (c. 500–​560) for, among other things, failing to
satisfy the threefold criterion. Candrakīrti, in turn, saw Bhāviveka’s criticism
as pointing out errors that would only apply to the Epistemologists,26 and he
instead explained at length why a Mādhyamika cannot reasonably have an in-
dependent thesis or proof. Vast exegetical traditions derive from these masters.

Many authentic sources of the Noble Land refer to these two


As Nonfoundationalism and Illusionism.
Hence, it does not make sense to say
That these two categories are “an amazing delusion.” [3]‌

Just as in Tibet, these two systems were also known in India under the names
Nonfoundationalism and Illusionism.27 Thus, in his Instructions for Cultivating
the Ultimate Spirit of Awakening, the supreme scholar Śūra28 explains: [258]

Thus, although compelling when not analyzed,


The mind resembles an illusion,
And awakening is also like an illusion.
By imagining that these are mere illusions, they are fooled.29

25 The triple criteria are the following: the truth of the minor premise; the fact that the possession of

the property in the subject of the major premise guarantees the possession of the property in its pred-
icate (anvaya-​vyāpti); and the fact that anything that lacks the property mentioned in the predicate of
the major premise also lacks the property mentioned in its subject (vyatireka-​vyāpti).
26 This is the Pramāṇavāda school of Dignāga (c. 480–​540) and Dharmakīrti (c. seventh century),

sometimes also translated as Epistemologists.


27 Apratiṣṭhana-​vāda and Māyopama-​vāda. Tsongkhapa, siding with Ngok Loden Sherab

(rNgog bLo ldan shes rab, 1059-​1109) on this issue, denies that this is a valid way of distinguishing
Mādhyamikas. On this and related issues, see Ruegg (2000: 32–​35).
28 On the complexities of identifying Śūra or Āryaśura and his authorship of this text, see Ruegg

(1981: 59n, 119–​120). For a summary of the argument regarding the two kinds of Mādhyamikas in
Śūra’s work, see Almogi (2010).
29 The fourth line of this verse appears as the second in the sDe dge edition. The translation is based

on the rendering found in our version of Taktsang’s text.


12 Knowing Illusion

They also fail to see the ineffable


Mañjuśrī beyond all fabrications.
Illusion is not mere illusion;
If it were, it could not be established,

And if it were established, the scriptures of others


Would also turn out to be illusory phenomena.
Therefore, when something is of an illusory nature
It cannot be called “this illusory-​like thing.”30

Thus, he argues that one fails to see the Mañjuśrī qua freedom from
fabrications even if one may otherwise have proven illusion, or the like. Thus,
having explained how establishing illusions is unreasonable, he proceeds:

Nevertheless, the Compassionate One


Took the support of the two truths;
And so, relying on convention,
Let the lion’s roar of no-​self be heard.

Employing such principles as that of emptiness,


As well as examples, such as illusion,
He used techniques in the form of various vehicles
To reveal Nonfoundationalist Madhyamaka.31

Having in this way taught the Prāsaṅgika approach, Śūra continues:

This may be shown, and yet it is not something that can be shown.
Here there is nothing at all to clear away.
Emptiness is also empty.
Here there are neither buddhas nor sentient beings.

Self and other, appearing and existing phenomena,


As well as bondage and liberation,

30 Śūra/​Aśvaghoṣa, Compendium of the Stages of Meditation on the Ultimate Spirit of Awakening

(Paramārtha-​bodhicitta-​bhāvanākrama-​varṇa-​saṃgraha; Tib. Don dam pa byang chub kyi sems


bsgom pa’i yi ge rin po che’i sgron ma), verses 18–​20, sDe dge #3912, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. ki: 16a.
31 Ibid., verses 21–​22: 16a.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 13

Are mere words and do not even exist as words.


Everything is like space.

When no phenomena are therefore seen,


One sees the imperceptible and nonappearing Mañjuśrī.
Thus, one crosses the ocean
Of birth, death, and cyclic existence.32

In this way, he shows that everything is purely nominal, imaginary, and


without any real existence, just like space. He explains that with this ap-
proach one sees all forms of Mañjughoṣa: the intrinsic nature that is the
true absence of self, that is immaterial and unsullied, that is complete lib-
eration without remainder, that is beyond consciousness and phenomena,
that transcends verbal expression, [259] and that is imperceptible and
nonappearing. This supreme scripture was transmitted in the Dharma lin-
eage of Atiśa (Dīpaṇkara Śrījñāna, 982–​1054), and yet not even the great
translator Ngok Loden Sherab (rNgog lo tsā wa bLo ldan shes rab, 1059–​
1109) noticed it. Similarly, in his discussion of the second stages of the path,
the Indian scholar Jñānavajra (d.u.) declares:

In Mantra there is no view33


Superior to that of nonfoundationalism.
If there were, that view would involve fabrications and its teacher would
be a fool.
However, Mantra is superior because of its methods.34

Also, for example, Avadhūtipāda’s (Advayavajra, 1007–​1085) Jewel Garland


of Reality35 and Jetāri’s (c. tenth century) Differentiating the Sugata’s Thought36
clearly articulate this twofold division.

32 Ibid., verse 23–​25: 16a.


33 “Mantra” here refers to tantric or Vajrayāna Buddhism, widely regarded in Tibet as the supreme
tradition of practice.
34 We have been unable to identify this text. A large number of texts are attributed to this author in

the Tibetan canon, but none appear to contain this exact wording.
35 Advayavajra (Maitreyanātha /​Maitrīpāda), Jewel Garland of Reality (Tattva-​ratnāvalī; Tib. De

kho na nyid rin po che’i phreng ba), sDe dge #2240, bsTan ’gyur, rGyud, vol. pi: 115b–​120b.
36 Jetāri, Differentiating the Sugata’s Thought (Sugatamata-​vibhaṅga-​kārikā; Tib. bDe bar gshegs pa

gzhung rnam par ’byed pa’i tshig le’ur byas pa). sDe dge #3899, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. a: 7a–​8b.
14 Knowing Illusion

The two approaches are also correctly known as “the school of reasoning that
exposes contradictions in others” versus “the school of reasoning that furnishes
autonomous proofs.” They are also referred to as those who deny—​versus those
who assert—​that relative truth can be divided in terms of correct and incor-
rect, that buddhas have impure karmic perceptions, and that the view involves
assertions.
Nonetheless, some earlier Tibetans claimed that the schools may be distin-
guished in terms of whether or not they accept the relative truth, whether or
not they hold that buddhas possess gnosis, whether or not they declare the ul-
timate to be absence of fabrications or a nonimplicative negation, and so on.
Nevertheless, none of those distinctions work because even Prāsaṅgikas accept
the relative truth as it appears in the perspective of others, and both Candrakīrti
and Śāntideva (c. 685–​763) refute in their treatises the idea that buddhas have
no gnosis. Finally:

Moreover, the negation of arising etc. is accepted


Because it accords with the ultimate.37

Thus, the Svātantrikas themselves teach that a nonimplicative negation is a fig-


urative ultimate.
The great Ngok Lotsawa was very fond of the Svātantrika system, [260]
and he would therefore interpret even Candrakīrti and Śāntideva as if they
belonged to that school. Although in his epistle entitled Drop of Nectar,
Ngok claims that the division of Mādhyamikas into Nonfoundationalists and
Illusionists is incorrect,38 I have already explained in detail why the distinc-
tion is a proper one.

2. Extensive Explanation of the Framework

This includes: (1) the refutation of a merely nominal “Madhyamaka”; (2) an


explanation of the actual Madhyamaka; and (3) a discussion of our scriptural
sources of proof.

37 Jñānagarbha, Differentiation of the Two Truths (Satyadvaya-​vibhaṅga; Tib. bDen pa gnyis rnam

par ’byed pa’i tshig le’ur byas pa), verse 9a–​b, sDe dge #3881, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. sa: 2a.
38 See Ngok Lotsawa Loden Sherab (2006), Drop of Nectar (bDud rtsi’i thig le), bKa’ gdams gsung

’bum phyogs bsgrigs thengs dang po, vol. 1: 709. See also Ruegg (2000: 32–​34).
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 15

2.1. Refutation of What Is Merely Called “Madhyamaka”

The term “Madhyamaka” is used by various schools to identify themselves:


By the Vijñānavāda that holds the emptiness of duality to be real,
By the school that excludes and deprecates appearance,
By the school of logic that employs conventional epistemic instruments, [4]‌

And by the school of extrinsic, truly existent emptiness.


Based on inauthentic scripture and reasoning,
These four thus assume and declare themselves to be Mādhyamikas.
Yet, mired in sophistry, they do not escape from grasping of extremes: [5]‌

The first and the last because they assert true existence;
The second because they leave out all the factors of method;
And the third because they contradictorily find, upon analysis,
A common locus of the false and the nondeceptive. [6]‌

Four schools use the term “Madhyamaka” in reference to themselves, yet


nevertheless continue to grasp extremes either explicitly or implicitly. In all
four cases, their extremism is due to having been mired in the philosophy of
the Epistemologists who are committed to epistemic instruments that func-
tion through the power of their objects.
In particular, the first school declares both that reflexive awareness is
empty of duality and that the unchanging and thoroughly established in-
trinsic nature of this reflexive awareness is truly existent in the face of anal-
ysis. The last among the four schools conflates what is present from the
perspective of rational cognition39 with that which can withstand analysis.
Thus, adherents of this school, unable to understand why most Tibetans say
that emptiness is not rationally established, claim that emptiness withstands
analysis. In this way, many scholars, such as Tanakpa Rinchen Yeshé (rTa nag
pa Rin chen ye shes, d.u.), who were confused about the explicit teaching of
certain advanced scriptural traditions, proceeded to say that emptiness in the
sense of freedom from fabrications, or as a nonimplicative negation, is a ni-
hilistic emptiness that, like the banana plant, has no core.

39 Rational cognition (rigs shes) is a technical term for any cognition that engages ultimate truth. It

does not refer to cognitions that relate to conventional reality in a rational way.
16 Knowing Illusion

Thus they teach that the pure dependent nature of the system of false
representation itself is the ultimate truth, the sphere of reality, emptiness
endowed with all supreme features—​and as such is immune to analysis.
They proclaim that the teacher of that system, Vasubandhu (c. fourth cen-
tury), is a proponent of the Great Madhyamaka, and they deny that glorious
Candrakīrti, Haribhadra (c. 459–​529), and other such teachers of intrinsic
emptiness [261] are Dharma teachers of the age of perfection. Instead
they see them as propagating nihilism. Similarly, they say that when noble
Nāgārjuna (c. second century) composed his analytical corpus,40 his intellect
had not yet matured in the way that it had when he authored his Praise of the
Sphere of Reality.41 Those who in this way persistently seek to prove true ex-
istence nevertheless vainly consider themselves representatives of the Great
Madhyamaka.
The second of these four schools teaches that because nothing whatsoever
can be established from the rational perspective, one may, even in conven-
tional terms, dispose with the factors of method. There are many who thus,
while in actual fact following the way of the Chinese Hashang (Ch. Heshang
Moheyan 和尚摩诃衍, fl. eighth century), proclaim an all-​sufficient Great
Perfection (rDzogs chen) that brings liberation upon perception.42 They say
that while people who lack merit will not meet with this Dharma, those who
do encounter it will be liberated without even having to pursue the three
trainings.43 Those three approaches all constitute actual grasping at extremes.
The third school holds that the relative truth is false. But it also asserts
that relative things, while being false, may nevertheless be conventionally

40 Nāgārjuna’s Analytical Corpus is a group of texts on logic and reasoning attributed to him: (1)

Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way (Mūlamadhyamaka-​kārikā; Tib. dBu ma rtsa ba’i tshig le’ur
byas pa shes rab ces bya ba); (2) Reply to Objections (Vigraha-​vyāvartanī; Tib. rTsod pa bzlog pa’i
tshig le’ur byas pa); (3) Jeweled Garland (Ratnāvalī; Tib. Rin po che’i ’phreng ba); (4) Seventy Verses
on Emptiness (Śūnyatā-​saptati; Tib. sTong pa nyid bdun cu pa’i tshig le’ur byas pa); (5) Sixty Verses of
Argument (Yukti-​ṣaṣṭikā-​kārikā; Tib. Rigs pa drug cu pa’i ’grel pa); (6) Detailed Analysis (Vaidalya-​
prakaraṇa; Tib. Zhib mo rnam par ’thag pa zhes bya ba’i rab tu byed pa); and a no longer extant work
entitled Establishment of the Mundane (Vyavahāra-​siddhi; Tib. Tha snyad grub pa), a few verses of
which are cited in Jeweled Garland.
41 Dharmadhātu-​stotra; Tib. Chos dbyings bstod pa, sDe dge #1118, bsTan ’gyur, bsTod tshogs, vol.

ka: 63b5–​67b3.
42 Heshang Moheyan (Tib. Hashang Mahayana) is commonly portrayed in Tibet as a paradig-

matic example of someone who holds heterodox views. He is regarded as propounding an antino-
mian vision of Buddhist practice in which simply eliminating all thought leads to awakening. This
simplistic version of his teachings is at odds with extant sources from his time, but it has become
widely accepted in Tibet. See van Schaik (2008 and 2015) and Gómez (1983). A summary of the
Great Perfection system of practice can be found in Powers (2007: 383–​393).
43 These are training in ethics, meditation, and wisdom.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 17

nondeceptive in the sense of being epistemically established from the per-


spective of cognitions not under the influence of temporary causes of
error. Because this approach does not accept anything that resists analysis
ultimately, it is not actual grasping at extremes. But because it accepts con-
ventionally the objective existence of a nondeceptive relative truth, it is nev-
ertheless consistent with such grasping.

2.2. Explanation of the Actual Madhyamaka

This involves explaining (1) the Svātantrikas and (2) the Prāsaṅgikas.

2.2.1. The Svātantrikas
This topic is explained by way of: (1) showing that Svātantrika is the ap-
propriate approach for those who are fond of epistemically warranted
conventions; (2) showing that Svātantrikas are not representatives of
the Great Madhyamaka; (3) proving that they generally do qualify as
Mādhyamikas; and (4) presenting their subdivisions.

2.2.1.1. Svātantrika Is the Way for Those Who Are Fond of Epistemically
Warranted Conventions

Still, as explained by many scholars of India and Tibet, Svātantrika


makes sense
If you want epistemically warranted conventions. [7a–​b]

As I have said elsewhere:

If you hold that the relative is false,


Claiming that it is nondeceptive would be highly contradictory.
What does “false” mean,
If not deceptive? [262]

Thus, it would certainly be contradictory to assert that the same thing can be
both false and nondeceptive in the context of a realist system. Nevertheless,
as explained by many scholars of India and Tibet, Svātantrika makes sense
if you want epistemically warranted conventions. Śūra, the supreme scholar
and great son of Nāgārjuna and Āryadeva (c. 163–​261), teaches that through
18 Knowing Illusion

such an approach, which refutes the system of false representation, one will
fail to see either the Mañjughoṣa that transcends verbal expression or that is
imperceptible and nonappearing. However, one may still perceive the forms
of Mañjughoṣa up to that which is beyond consciousness and phenomena.44
Moreover, the tradition that asserts that the same thing can be both false
and nondeceptive was established by Bhāviveka, an early son of Nāgārjuna,
and so this system is among the original explanations of Madhyamaka.
Therefore, the later blend of the two distinct schools of Madhyamaka thought
is a baseless fabrication. For this reason, the Indian and Tibetan scholars
who adhered to the Svātantrika system are extremely numerous, and as
Candrakīrti says:

Intimidated by the colors of the extremely vast ocean of Nāgārjuna’s mind,


People have completely shunned this good system.45

Thus, Candrakīrti appears to declare that there has been no one but himself
who did otherwise. As for Candrakīrti’s followers, there were only a few—​
for example, Vidyākaukila (d.u.), the great Lord Atiśa, the latter’s spiritual
son Siṃha (d.u.), and so on. In Tibet, glorious Candrakīrti’s Madhyamaka
treatises were not translated until the coming of Patsap Nyima Drakpa
(Pa tshab Nyi ma grags pa, b. 1055), and hence even Entering the Way of
Bodhisattvas was given a Svātantrika interpretation. Among the four sons of
Patsap,46 it seems that apart from the one lacking expertise about both word
and meaning, Shang Thangsakpa (Zhang thang sag pa Ye shes ’byung gnas,
eleventh century), they did not produce very many lineage holders.
The noble Sakya forefathers, as well as Butön (Bu ston Rin chen grub, 1290–​
1364) and others, referred to their own approach as Great Madhyamaka,
but they did not teach it very often. Nonetheless, Tibetan scholars in, for

44 For the complete list of views characterised as approaching Mañjughoṣa to a greater or lesser ex-

tent, see section 1.2.


45 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way (Madhyamakāvatāra; Tib. dBu ma la ’jug pa), xi.55,

sDe dge #3861, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. ’a: 218b.
46 According to Gö Lotsawa’s (’Gos Lo tsā ba gZhon nu dpal, 1392–​1481) Blue Annals (Deb gter

sngon po; Gö Lotsawa 1984: 417), Patsap’s main disciples are (1) Tsangpa Sarbö (gTsang pa Sar sbos,
d.u.); (2) Mabja Jangchup Tsöndrü (rMa bya Byang chub brtson ’grus, d. 1185); (3) Dar Yönden Drak
(Dar Yon tan grags, d.u.); and (4) Shang Tangsakpa Yeshé Jungné (Zhang thang sag pa ye shes, a.k.a
Ye shes ’byung gnas). Gö credits them with “spreading the Madhyamaka teachings in Ü and Tsang.”
There is a tradition that the first student understood the words of the teachings, while the third un-
derstood their meaning. Mabja understood both words and meaning, and Shang Tangsakpa Yeshé
Jungné understood neither.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 19

example, the lineage coming from Ngok Lotsawa for the most part taught
Svātantrika. [263] Moreover, the preceptor Śāntarakṣita (8th century), whose
kindness toward Tibet is immense, taught a combination of Madhyamaka
and Pramāṇavāda—​and thus Svātantrika—​in his Ornament of the Middle
Way,47 his epistemological Compendium of Metaphysics,48 Establishing the
Ultimate,49 and elsewhere. Therefore, the fact that Tibetans adhere to his ap-
proach is also in accord with the ways of the world.

2.2.1.2. Svātantrika Is Not the Great Madhyamaka

Although they set forth the relative truth as compelling only when not
examined,
Due to their immense habituation to logic they do not understand
How without a shared dependent arising free from imputations
Things can function in a world that is only imputed by mind.
Regarding their claim that emptiness and dependent arising amount to the
same thing,
They are also slightly confused. For these reasons this is not the Great
Madhyamaka. [7c–​8d]

Regarding this system, let us consider the following statement from


Differentiation of the Two Truths:

Because its nature is just as it appears,


This is not subject to analysis.50

Similarly, Ornament of the Middle Way speaks of that which is:

Compelling when not examined,


Subject to origination and destruction . . . 51

47 Madhyamakālaṃkāra-​kārikā; Tib. dBu ma rgyan gyi tshig le’ur byas pa, sDe dge #3884, bsTan

’gyur, dBu ma, vol. sa: 53a1–​56b3.


48 Tattva-​saṃgraha; Tib. De kho na nyid bsdus pa’i tshig le’ur byas pa, sDe dge #4266, bsTan ’gyur,

Tshad ma, vol. ze: 1b1–​133a6.


49 Paramārtha-​viniścaya; Tib. Don dam pa gtan la dbab pa, no longer extant.
50 Jñānagarbha, Differentiation of the Two Truths, verse 21a–​b: 2b.
51 Śāntarakṣita, Ornament of the Middle Way (Madhyamakālaṃkāra-​kārikā; Tib. dBu ma rgyan gyi

tshig le’ur byas pa), verse 64a–​b, sDe dge #3884, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. sa: 55a.
20 Knowing Illusion

Clear Meaning, the short commentary on Ornament of Clear Realizations,


says that the relative reality consists of “causally related entities that are com-
pelling only as long as one does not subject them to analysis.”52 Although one
finds many such statements in their texts, this approach is still not the Great
Madhyamaka that understands how things can function while being purely
nominal and imputed. Ngok Lotsawa said:

The gateway to the natural emptiness of all things


Is taught through venerable Nāgārjuna’s true and supreme reasoning.
Having realized that by means of the excellent commentary of the Lord of
Reason (i.e., Dharmakīrti),
One will disregard all other approaches as if they were grass.53

Thus, because they are used to combining Madhyamaka and Pramāṇavāda,


the present approach fails to explain how, without requiring the triple crite-
rion, functional conventions may be posited as purely nominal and as having
only imputed existence. Hence, the present approach is slightly confused
with respect to the identity of the characteristics of emptiness and dependent
arising.
In this context, the triple criterion is held to be unlike the double moon,
floating hairs in the visual field, and the like.54 Rather, they are established
by the perceptions of a vast number of people who are free from temporary
causes of error; they arise in dependence on causes and conditions; and they
are free from imputations, such as that of a permanent primary principle.
[264] Thus, Differentiation of the Two Truths explains:

Isolated from imputed entities,


The bare entities of dependent arising
Should be known to be the correct relative truth.55

52 Haribhadra, Clear Meaning (Abhisamayālaṃkāra-​prajñāpāramitopadeśa-​śāstra-​vṛtti; Tib. Shes

rab kyi pha rol tu phyin pa’i man ngag gi bstan bcos mngon par rtogs pa’i rgyan zhe bya ba’i pa’i ’grel pa),
sDe dge #3793, bsTan ’gyur, Shes phyin, vol. ja: 118b.
53 Ngok Loden Sherab (2006), Drop of Nectar: 708.
54 As explained on p. 11, note 25, the “triple criterion” (trairūpya) sets conditions for the validity of

an argument. To put this in the terms of Buddhist logic, reason (liṅga; Tib. hetu) must (1) be present
in the subject (pakṣadharmatva; Tib. phyogs chos); (2) also be present in similar cases (anvayavyāpti;
Tib. rjes khyab); and (3) not be present in any dissimilar case (vyatirekavyāpti; Tib. ldog khyab). These
criteria are often associated with Dignāga, but they originated with Vasubandhu; see Frauwallner
(1957).
55 Jñānagarbha, Differentiation of the Two Truths, verse 8a–​c: 2a.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 21

It also states:

Isolated from any imputed essence,


Only the exact appearance of all
That arises in dependence
Is perceived directly by the Omniscient One.56

The same point is made extensively in Ornament of the Middle Way and its
commentary,57 Light of the Middle Way,58 and Heart of the Middle Way59 and
its commentary.60

2.2.1.3. The Svātantrikas Are Nonetheless Mādhyamikas

Nevertheless, this approach refutes the fact that things resist ultimate
analysis
And teaches the ultimate, final pacification of fabrications
As well as the figurative nonarising.
Thus, it is superior to the realists and is nothing but the Middle Way. [9]‌

Nevertheless, the present approach is superior even to the system of false


representation that, as the best among the realist approaches, asserts the true
existence of nondual emptiness. Indeed, the present approach refutes any as-
sertion of something that withstands ultimate analysis, and in terms of con-
vention it asserts the efficacy of epistemically warranted things, free from the
extremes of permanence and reification.
This approach also draws distinctions with respect to the ultimate. Thus,
it regards the thorough pacification of fabrication within the sphere that is
not established as anything at all as the final ultimate. However, it treats the

56 Ibid., verse 37: 3a.


57 Śāntarakṣita, Commentary on Ornament of the Middle Way (Madhyamakālaṃkāra-​vṛtti; Tib.
dBu ma’i rgyan gyi ’grel pa), sDe dge #3885, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. sa: 56b4–​84a1.
58 Kamalaśīla, Light of the Middle Way (Madhyamakāloka; Tib. dBu ma snang ba), sDe dge #3887,

bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. sa: 133b–​244a.


59 Bhāviveka, Verses on the Heart of the Middle Way (Madhyamaka-​hṛdaya-​kārikā; Tib. dBu ma’i

snying po’i tshig le’ur byas pa), sDe dge #3855, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. dza: 1a–​40b.
60 Bhāviveka, Blaze of Reasoning: A Commentary on the Verses on Heart of the Middle Way

(Madhyamaka-​hṛdaya-​vṛtti-​tarka-​jvālā; Tib. dBu ma snying po’i ’grel pa rtog ge ’bar ba), sDe dge
#3856, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. dza: 40b–​329b.
22 Knowing Illusion

absence of birth and the emptiness of anything real as the so-​called figurative
ultimate. Thus, Differentiation of the Two Truths explains:

Moreover, the negation of arising and so forth is accepted


Because it accords with reality.
Because there is nothing to negate,
It is clear that ultimately there is no negation.

When something is of imputed nature,


How could its negation not be so as well?
Therefore, this is relative truth;
It carries the meaning of reality, but is not reality.

In reality, there is no duality—​


This is the absence of fabrications.
When Mañjuśrī inquired about reality,
The son of the victors remained quiet.61

Ornament of the Middle Way similarly declares:

Because it accords with the ultimate truth,


This is termed “ultimate”.
In reality, the ultimate truth is free
From the entire mass of fabrications.

Because arising and so forth do not exist, [265]


Absence of arising and so forth is impossible.62

2.2.1.4. Subdivisions among the Svātantrikas

Some of them deny reflexive awareness and affirm external objects,


Whereas the rest assert the opposite.
The first include Jñānagarbha and Bhāviveka,
And the second Śāntarakṣita and his followers. [11]

61 Jñānagarbha, Differentiation of the Two Truths, verses 9–​11: 1b–​2a.


62 Śāntarakṣita, Ornament of the Middle Way, verses 70–​71b: 55b.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 23

The Svātantrikas include learned masters such as Bhavyākara, or Bhāviveka,


as well as Śrīgupta (d.u.), Jñānagarbha (c. eighth century), Śāntarakṣita,
Kamalaśīla (c. 740–​795), Āryavimuktisena (c. sixth century), the master
Haribhadra, Jñānapāda (d.u.), Dīpaṃkarabhadra (c. tenth century),
Vaidyapāda (d.u.), Thagana (d.u.), and others. Although they are numerous,
they all either deny reflexive awareness and affirm external objects, or oth-
erwise affirm reflexive awareness and deny the existence of external objects.
The first group is that of Bhāviveka and Jñānagarbha, and the second includes
Śāntarakṣita and his followers.
Certain earlier Tibetans have classified Bhāviveka as a “Mādhyamika who
follows the Vaibhāṣika,” and there is nothing wrong in doing so in consid-
eration of their general philosophical commonalities. However, it is not
reasonable to take Jñānagarbha’s statements with respect to “the nature of
exactly that which appears”63 as a reason for classifying him together with
Candrakīrti as a Mādhyamika who makes assertions in accord with mun-
dane people. If one were to become such a Mādhyamika simply by accepting
conventions without analysis and investigation, then the same would be true
of Śāntarakṣita, Haribhadra, and Bhāviveka because they do the same thing.
Because this a relatively minor issue, fearing an excess of words, I will not cite
their texts at length here.

2.2.2. The Prāsaṅgikas
This topic comprises (1) refuting the misleading; and (2) establishing the
genuine.

2.2.2.1. Refutation of Misleading Prāsaṅgika Madhyamaka

This comprises (1) a brief presentation; (2) an extensive explanation; and


(3) an account of the reason.

2.2.2.1.1. Presentation

Those who follow the glorious Candrakīrti


And, based on various analyses, assert
That impure, deceptive perception can be epistemically warranted
Bear the great burden of the following contradictions. [12]

63 Jñānagarbha, Differentiation of the Two Truths, verse 21a: 2b.


24 Knowing Illusion

Certain recent Tibetan holders of the teachings who were great scholars
propounded Candrakīrti’s system accurately and faithfully early in their
careers. [266] Nonetheless, they later deviated, but not due to any improve-
ment in their logical acumen. Generally, Tibet abounds with terminology de-
rived from logic texts, and in particular from Chapa’s (Phya pa Chos kyi seng
ge, 1109–​1169) compendia. Moreover, Mādhyamikas embrace the “blessing
of relative truth that is nondeceptive dependent arising” of the Svātantrika
teaching and are hounded by the statement that “causality cannot reliably be
posited simply on the basis of an erroneous perspective.”
They believe that if this were so, then in terms of conventional reasoning
that is not ultimate analysis, it would follow that a dream elephant and an
elephant perceived when awake would be equally efficacious; and a halluci-
nation of falling hairs and a perception of blue would likewise be epistemi-
cally indistinguishable. Their principal concern is that it would follow that
the process of karmic causality would not be reliable.
Those who have such concerns and believe themselves to be followers of
the system of Candrakīrti and Śāntideva face further contradictions, as we
shall see. Consider this:

With a supreme and unequalled voice,


He teaches that emptiness and dependent arising
Are coextensive: the middle way.
Homage to the Lord of Sages!64

And similarly:

Whatever is dependently co-​arisen


That is explained to be emptiness.
That, being a dependent designation,
Is itself the middle way.65

As is thus taught at great length, “emptiness” and “dependent arising” are


coextensive. Something that is truly existent could not possibly be related
to anything else, and it could thus not arise dependently. Likewise, they

64 Nāgārjuna, Reply to Objections (Vigraha-​vyāvartanī; Tib. rTsod pa bzlog pa’i tshig le’ur byas pa),

verse 71, sDe dge #3828, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. tsa: 29a.
65 Nāgārjuna, Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way (Mūlamadhyamaka-​kārikā; Tib. dBu ma rtsa

ba’i tshig le’ur byas pa shes rab ces bya ba), xiv.18, sDe dge #3824, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. tsa: 15a.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 25

continue, anything that is established in dependence cannot be truly existent.


Therefore, appearances—​that is, functioning things and the like—​and the
emptiness that is the absence of nature are included within a single basis.
Not only that, a person who has understood dependent arising necessarily
ascertains both emptiness on the basis of appearance and appearance on the
basis of emptiness—​and comes to a point where the two are understood as
mutually entailing.
This is indeed the Madhyamaka approach, [267] and according to the
Svātantrikas, mere natures, or essences, exist objectively in conventional
terms, and they supply qualifiers, such as absence of real natures. Here,
however, without using qualifiers, our opponents claim on the one hand
that objects have no nature or essence whatsoever, and on the other that
such things as fire’s having the function of burning are not just mere mental
imputations, but perform their functions in a nondeceptive, foundational
way, albeit merely conventionally. For this reason, they say, the conven-
tional and ultimate nature of phenomena must be used in tandem to in-
duce ascertainment, because explaining the way things function merely in
terms of the perspective of delusion does not provide sufficient grounding.
They do not just say this once; they say it over and over: this is the prin-
cipal contradiction to which they fall prey. This is because for the Great
Madhyamaka there is absolutely no object of negation—​viz., nature—​
beyond the idea that the functioning world has an objective, foundational
nature.
They might reply that they do not accept foundations. But not being
foundational contradicts being epistemically warranted; for to be epistemi-
cally warranted means to be nondeceptive, and being nondeceptive means
nothing more than being foundational.
Moreover, it is the root of all contradiction to claim that according to the
glorious Candrakīrti’s system a buddha’s knowledge of things in their diver-
sity is the epistemic instrument that examines relative reality. As stated in
Introduction to the Middle Way: “Ignorance, in covering the intrinsic nature,
is relative.”66 In the Autocommentary, Candrakīrti distinguishes between
relative truth and a merely false relative, the former being supplied by af-
flictive ignorance. As the Autocommentary explains, “Thus, relative truth is

66 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way, vi.28a: 205b.


26 Knowing Illusion

set forth based on the afflictive ignorance that belongs to the twelve links of
existence.”67
The second variant of the relative is supplied as follows: Disciples and sol-
itary buddhas68 who have completed their training, [268] as well as noble
bodhisattvas of the Mahāyāna who are still training, have relinquished the
afflictive ignorance that is responsible for relative truth, as mentioned ear-
lier. Therefore, it is explained that nonpathological ignorance, or mere igno-
rance, supplies the relative as experienced by those who partake in gnosis
that involves appearances. Thus, for them “the relative is fabricated and not
truth, because they do not presume that it is real.”69
Candrakīrti then explains: “Such beings experience mere ignorance in the
form of cognitive obscuration and so this appears to noble beings who par-
ticipate in the domain of appearances. . . .”70 Therefore, forget about relative
truth in the case of buddhas; Candrakīrti states that they are free from even
that which serves to set up the mere relative. As he says:

That is not the case for those who participate in the domain without ap-
pearance. Since buddhas have attained true and complete awakening with
respect to all phenomena, all movements of mind and mental states have
completely ceased.71

Similarly, as he declares after that:

Mental cessation is actualized by embodiment.72

And:

67 Candrakīrti, Autocommentary on Introduction to the Middle Way (Madhyamakāvatāra-​bhāṣya;

Tib. dBu ma la ’jug pa’i bshad pa), sDe dge #3862, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. ’a: 255a. For a discussion
of the twelve links of existence, see Keown (2003: 221).
68 These are categories of Buddhist practitioners. “Disciples” (śrāvaka; lit. “hearer”) are followers

of the Buddha who belong to what is often called the “Lesser Vehicle” (Hīnayāna) and whose main
religious goal is the liberation of an arhat. Solitary buddhas (pratyeka-​buddha) are more advanced
than disciples and have superior attainments, but still fall short of the aspirations of bodhisattvas. See
Keown (2003: 102 and 177) for more details.
69 Candrakīrti, Autocommentary on Introduction to the Middle Way: 255a.
70 Ibid.
71 Ibid.
72 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way, xi.17d: 216b. The Autocommentary explains that

“embodiment” refers to the arising of the embodiment of bliss (saṃbhoga-​kāya).


Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 27

Master of excellent knowledge, through comprehending that everything is


of the same essence,
You achieve omniscience in a single moment.73

Candrakīrti then anticipates an objection: You say that gnosis that is free
from dualistic appearance has no object (“if at the time of pacification the
intellect does not engage . . .”74). But it does not make sense for cognition to
know an object in the absence of the appearance of an object. He replies to
this objection with the verses that begin: “When non-​arising is reality . . .”75
Thus he argues that, as is commonly held, an object is known when a mental
state arises with its representation; when the object does not arise, the mental
state does not arise either, just like water being poured into water. Similarly,
the phrase: “the mind knows an object” may be used when the character of
the object and its appearance to the mind correspond. So Candrakīrti does
not deny the absence of any appearance of an object. [269] Also, Entering the
Way of Bodhisattvas teaches that no object appears:

When neither an entity nor a nonentity


Stands before the mind,
There are then no other possibilities;
And so, without any objectification, peace is complete.76

It is explained that no object appears to gnosis. As a response to the objec-


tion that, on such an account, none of the activities of buddhas, such as their
teaching the Dharma, would make sense, we find the example of a strong
potter77 as well as the following stanza:

Like a wish-​fulfilling jewel and a wish-​granting tree


That completely satisfy hopes,

73 Ibid., xi.11c–​d: 216a.


74 Ibid., xi.12a: 216a.
75 Ibid., xi.14a: 216a.
76 Śāntideva, Entering the Way of Bodhisattvas, ix.35: 32a.
77 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way, xi.15–​16: 216b. The example is of a potter who

turns his wheel so powerfully that it continues to spin without further effort. Similarly, buddhas train
in such qualities as wisdom and compassion over the course of eons, and the force of this enables
them to respond spontaneously to the needs of sentient beings.
28 Knowing Illusion

The appearances of bodies of the victors [i.e., buddhas]


Manifest in response to the aspirations of disciples.78

Responding to the criticism, “How can anything result from worshipping


something that has no mind,”79 Śāntideva states:

It is because it is taught that the result is similar


Whether one worships a buddha that is present or has passed away.80

Thus, he argues that the objection does not hit the mark, and he does not
deny that buddhas do not have minds. Confused by such statements, Kharak
Jangchub Shönnu (Kha rag pa Byang chub gzhon nu, d.u.) and others have
taught that these two masters deny that buddhas possess gnosis. If we ex-
amine these debates, however, it is clear that Candrakīrti and Śāntideva af-
firm the existence of the gnosis of equipoise without appearances—​a gnosis
that fully comprehends the manifold reality of all cognitive objects as having
a single taste.
Suppose someone objects: “Such gnosis requires mind and mental states.
Hence, Clear Meaning also says: ‘Nondual minds and mental states must be
accepted; how should they be classified?’ ”81
But that is a Svātantrika assertion. Thus, the same commentary also
asserts: “These must not be refuted based on another philosophical system.”82
[270] Similarly, “One single moment of your understanding embraces the
full sphere of what is knowable” is a statement from the commentary to
Differentiation of the Two Truths.83
Again, it might be objected: “Well, consider these passages from
Introduction to the Middle Way:

There is only one epistemic warrant: the gnosis that is omniscience.84

78 Śāntideva, Entering the Way of Bodhisattvas, ix.36: 32a. The magical jewels and trees spoken of in

this verse fulfill the wishes of beings without being sentient.


79 Ibid., ix.39a–​b: 32a.
80 Ibid., ix.39c–​d: 32a.
81 Haribhadra, Clear Meaning: 133a.
82 Ibid., 86b. The canonical translation reads: “based on another vehicle” (theg pa gzhan la rten nas).
83 Jñānagarbha, Commentary on Differentiation of the Two Truths (Satyadvaya-​vibhaṅga-​vṛtti; Tib.

bDen pa gnyis rnam par ’byed pa’i ’grel pa), sDe dge #3882, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma, vol. sa: 14b.
84 Candrakīrti, Autocommentary on Introduction to the Middle Way: 312b.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 29

And:

The gnosis that is omniscience


Is what has the characteristics of “perception.”85

The same treatise also provides an extensive exposition of the ten powers,
such as the knowledge of what is right and what is wrong.86 Why is that?”
To this we reply that the first two passages concern the gnosis of equi-
poise without appearances. The second passage—​and a number of others,
including Entering the Way of Bodhisattvas’ statement that “buddhas and
bodhisattvas have unimpeded vision of everything”87—​is made from the
perspective of trainees. These claims—​that the Buddha knows, that he was
born, and so on—​are about bodies that are responses to the disciples. These
emanational embodiments of the Buddha that are responses to sentient
beings are simply magical displays or merely semblances of the Buddha. If
one were to say that because they seemingly display cognition they actually
cognize, one would, by the same token, also have to say that they in fact attain
awakening anew in the world when they appear to do so.88
Moreover, it would follow that when the world and its inhabitants appear
to a person who performs actions and suffers from pathologies, the apparent
environment and inhabitants are not produced by their specific causes, viz.,
actions and pathologies. It would follow that these appearances are not due
to the causes for error, viz., actions and pathologies. Similarly, it would follow
that darkness would make physical things imperceptible for perfectly awak-
ened buddhas, that their bodies would be burnable by the flaming red-​hot
iron of hell and destructible in a rain of weapons, and that this appears to

85 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way, vi.214a–​b: 214b.


86 The ten powers are abilities unique to buddhas: (1) the ability to know what is right and what
is wrong (sthānāsthāna-​jñāna-​bala); (2) knowledge of the retribution of karma (karma-​vipāka-​
jñāna-​bala); (3) knowledge of all forms of liberative meditation (dhyāna-​vimokṣa-​samādhi-​
samāpatti-​jñāna-​bala); (4) knowledge of various beings’ capacities (indriya-​parāpara-​jñāna-​bala);
(5) knowledge of the aspirations and inclinations of beings (nānādhimukti-​jñāna-​bala); (6) know-
ledge of the varieties of causal factors (nānā-​dhātu-​jñāna-​bala); (7) knowledge of what leads to var-
ious destinies (sarvatra-​gāminī-​pratipaj-​jñāna-​bala); (8) knowledge of their former life situations
(pūrvanivāsa-​jñāna-​bala); (9) knowledge of death and rebirth (cyuty-​upapatti-​jñāna-​bala); and (10)
knowledge that their afflictions have been thoroughly destroyed (āsrava-​kṣaya-​jñāna-​bala).
87 Śāntideva, Entering the Way of Bodhisattvas, v.31a–​b: 11b.
88 According to a variety of Mahāyāna texts, the Buddha had already attained awakening in the

heaven of Akaniṣṭha before he appeared to attain awakening under the Bodhi Tree. Thus, the attain-
ment of awakening at Bodhgaya was only an appearance—​a pretense, as it were—​and not reality. See
Cabezón (1999).
30 Knowing Illusion

buddhas themselves. This is because except for the appearance of true ex-
istence, which does not appear to buddhas, all of the other properties of
the world—​solidity, and so on—​that appear to ordinary individuals are
warranted exactly as they appear by means of epistemic instruments—​and
[271] indeed chiefly by buddhas’ epistemic instruments.
Moreover, there would be no point in cultivating aspects of the path such
as the illusory body, which are for the sake of attaining the embodiment of a
buddha through gnosis that is free from the elemental, material factors of or-
dinary physical embodiment.89 This is because the apprehension of all phys-
ical factors is here held to be a special quality of buddhas’ gnosis.
One would also lose the concordance between the path and the result. This
is because during the gnosis of equipoise on the stages of training, and before
every mandala of the path of Mantra, one must forcefully dispel appearances.
Nevertheless, here our opponents hold that all appearances are manifest at
the time of the result. Because all phenomena are seen during the gnosis of
equipoise at the time of the result, it would follow that the perception of the
gnosis of equipoise would have to improve continuously beyond the path of
seeing, gradually enabling one to see phenomena more clearly.90
Therefore, this idea that the gnosis of buddhas is the primary epistemic war-
rant for discerning the relative truth is a primary flaw of this system. Describing
the relative truth as “worldly”—​as in the phrase “the truth of worldly conven-
tion and the ultimate truth”91—​would make no sense. Statements that could
be cited in this context are abundant, but consider, for example, these:

This is accepted without analysis and due to confusion.92

Saying that these exist despite their not existing,


I speak in conformity with the world out of necessity.93

“For whom should I then care?”


For those who are imagined to exist due to ignorance,
Who are accepted out of necessity.

89 Yogas relating to the illusory body (māyā-​deha) are aspects of tantric practice; see Powers

(2007: 286–​287).
90 The path of seeing (darśana-​mārga) is the third of the five paths to awakening; see Powers

(2007: 91–​98).
91 Nāgārjuna, Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way, xxiv.8c–​d: 15a.
92 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way, vi.164d: 212a.
93 Ibid., vi.81c–​d: 208a.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 31

“Whose necessity if there are no sentient beings?”


True, this desire is caused by ignorance.94

In other words, the relative truth is referred to as confusion, it is constituted


by mundane and innate ego-​grasping, and it is not seen by pure gnosis. [272]
These points are made again and again.
It might then be objected: “In that case there would be no need to pursue
some courses of action and to refrain from others.” To this we reply: Those who
truly understand will make even greater efforts at pursuing the right course
and rejecting the wrong one. When people who suffer from clouded vision
realize that the hairs they perceive are not really there and that people with
healthy eyesight do not perceive them, they will, similarly, begin to regard the
hairs as their own visual defect.95 They will go searching for a doctor, and when
they find one they will listen to the doctor with great reverence. They may even
take a horrible medicine96 and diligently maintain a healthy lifestyle!
The pure conduct of body, speech, and mind that was displayed by
Lord Atiśa, his emanation Patsap Nyima Drakpa, Lochen Kyabchok

94 Emend ’bral to ’bras. Śāntideva, Entering the Way of Bodhisattvas, ix.76b–​77b: 33b.
95 The Sanskrit term timira (Tib. rab rib) is frequently used in Buddhist literature as an ex-
ample of mistaken perception. It can refer to a wide range of visual defects, including floaters, oc-
cluded or hazy vision, or seeing spots, lines, dots, flowers, or clouds. Many of these (e.g., floaters or
perceptions of sky-​flowers) result from defects in the eye’s vitreous humor, but they are perceived as
external. Floaters cast shadows on the retina or refract light that passes through them, which causes
perceptions of external phenomena. In his Commentary on the Discourse Explaining the Thought
(Ārya-​gambhīra-​saṃdhinirmocana-​sūtra-​ṭīkā; Tib. ’Phags pa dgongs pa zab mo nges par ’grel pa’i mdo
rgya cher ’grel pa; sDe dge #4016, bsTan ’gyur, mDo ’grel, vol. ti [118]: 517.4), Wonch’ŭk 원측/​圓測
(613–​696) explains: “Through the power of clouded vision existing in the eye, an eye-​consciousness
and a mental consciousness that [arises] at the same time are generated through the power of those
two consciousnesses; a conceptual mental consciousness cognizes circular hairs and so forth in the
second moment.” On p. 518.5, citing the Compendium of Abhidharma (Abhidharma-​samuccaya), he
adds that timira can also refer to conditions that cause people to misperceive colors: “Due to the de-
generation of an eye sense power that is affected by jaundice of the eye, blue is perceived as yellow.”
See also MacDonald’s (2015, vol. 2: 111–​112, n. 228) discussion of translations of timira. The term is
discussed in a number of Indian Buddhist sources, including Madhyamaka-​kārikā-​vṛtti, ed. Louis
de la Vallée Poussin (1903–​1913, ch. 18: 373); Candrakīrti’s Madhyamakāvatāra (la Vallée Poussin
1970: 102 and 109).
When the term is used to indicate floaters perceived externally, ophthalmologist Dr. Mindy
Kim-​Miller (personal communication) stated that from a contemporary medical perspective,
“myodesopsia” is a close match for “the effect of floaters on vision, whereas floaters can refer to the
physiologic etiology. Given modern medical advances, the analogy to seeing things that aren’t there
seems to be a misinterpretation. The floaters that cause the ‘hair-​like’ debris are actually present in
the vitreous of the eyeball, but they get misinterpreted as hairs or flowers or insects.” She added that
she has floaters in her own eyes, and so she perceives external hairs, but as an ophthalmologist she
recognizes them as false at the same time as she experiences this phenomenon. Kobayashi (2013)
provides a useful overview of relevant Indian medical literature on the subject.
96 Emend mi zad pa’i to mi bzad ba’i.
32 Knowing Illusion

Pelsang,97 and other great teachers—​w ho these days are regarded as


nihilists—​is not evinced by those who now howl triumphantly that the
conventional truth is epistemically warranted and that the effects of
actions can be ascertained with warrant. Enough said.
At this point it might be objected: “You drone on and on, but at the end
of the exposition found in Clear Words, four epistemic instruments are ac-
cepted: perception, inference, testimony, and analogy.98 That is the gen-
uine Prāsaṅgika way. Therefore, the early Tibetans were correct to draw
the Prāsaṅgika/​Svātantrika distinction in terms of the number of epistemic
instruments accepted. In other words, Prāsaṅgikas are those who accept
four, whereas Svātantrikas assert only perception and inference in the same
way as the Commentary on Compendium of Epistemology.”99
But neither earlier nor later Tibetans are right about that, because the four
epistemic instruments are simply presented as the way ordinary people talk.
It is not a presentation of the Prāsaṅgikas’ own system. This is why the same
treatise concludes:

Therefore, it is through four types of epistemic warrants that ordinary


beings’ understanding of objects is structured.100 [273]

If this were not the case, then it would also be unreasonable to assert—​based
on the statement: “That is indeed true, but only in mundane terms; every-
thing else is, according to mundane people, falsely conceived”101—​that the
distinction between correct and incorrect relative reality is drawn only in
mundane terms and that it is not the way of our own Prāsaṅgika system.
“Well,” one might then think, “I see that these passages make exactly the
same point. So I will henceforth accept that our system distinguishes between

97 Lo chen sKyabs mchog dPal bzang (c. 1340–​1415), teacher of Rendawa Shönnu Lodrö (Red

mda’ ba gZhon nu blo gros, 1349–​1412). Kyabchok was also the teacher of another great Sakya
scholar, Ngorchen Kunga Sangpo (Ngor chen Kun dga’ bzang po, 1382–​1456) and the author of a
commentary on Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way: Clarification of the Meaning of the Words
of the Commentary on Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way (dBu ma rtsa ba shes rab kyi ’grel pa
tshig don rab gsal), as well as a commentary on Introduction to the Middle Way entitled Extensive
Explanation of Introduction to the Middle Way Thoroughly Clarifying the Essence of the Ocean of
Scripture (dBu ma la ’jug pa rgya cher bshad pa gsung rab rgya mtsho’i de kho na nyid rab tu gsal ba).
98 Candrakīrti, Clear Words (Mūlamadhyamaka-​vṛtti-​prasanna-​padā; Tib. dBu ma rtsa ba’i ’grel

pa tshig gsal ba), sDe dge #3860, bsTan ’gyur, dBu ma vol. ’a: 25b.
99 Dharmakīrti, Commentary on Compendium of Epistemology (Pramāṇa-​vārttika; Tib. Tshad ma

rnam ’grel), sDe dge #4210, bsTan ’gyur, Tshad ma, vol. ce: 94b1–​151a7.
100 Candrakīrti, Clear Words: 25b. Rendered according to the canonical translation.
101 Candrakīrti, Introduction to the Middle Way, vi.25c–​d: 205a.
Taktsang Lotsawa Sherab Rinchen 33

correct and incorrect relative truth.” But that is not reasonable if you take
statements like this one into account:

Until waking up, one finds as existent the three


Just as they are when awake.102

Thus, Candrakīrti repeatedly explains that for as long as the causes of delu-
sion endure, the horses and elephants in a dream are just as existent as the
ones we may encounter when awake. Once the causes of delusion cease,
both are equally nonexistent. Therefore, it is accurate to say that in our own
Madhyamaka system there is no distinction between correct and incorrect
relative truth. Without losing sight of this point, one must conclude that our
own Madhyamaka system does not divide the relative into four—​as would
be the case if it is distinguished between what is and what is not an epistemic
warrant.
Our opponents claim that disciples and solitary buddhas must realize the
absence of self in phenomena; but Svātantrikas do not accept this. They are
also at odds with Prāsaṅgika because they march under the banner of “the
crossed lions’ necks of Madhyamaka and Pramāṇavāda.”103 This system tries
to get everything right and thereby becomes full of contradictions.

2.2.2.1.2. Extensive Explanation (1)‌

All objects being false104 contradicts their subjects being non-​deceptive. [13a]

Our opponents explain that unless one realizes that the object is false, one
will fail to understand the meaning of relative truth. This is exactly right.
In the Prāsaṅgikas’ own system, one indeed realizes that the relative truth
is false. Therefore, it is contradictory to hold on the one hand that all rela-
tive objects are false and on the other hand that the cognitions that are their
subjects can be nondeceptive and epistemically warranting. This is because

102 Ibid., vi.53a–​b: 206b.


103 This refers to the notion that in Tsongkhapa’s system the merging of Pramāṇavāda and
Madhyamaka creates a philosophical approach that becomes stronger and better able to withstand
attacks from opponents, like two lions fighting together with their necks intertwined, which enables
them to see enemies in all directions and anticipate their attacks. See, for example, Dalai Lama XIV
(2017: 41).
104 The term we translate as “false” (rdzun) has the sense of something counterfeit or fake. The

contradiction here involves the inconsistency of the object not existing in the way it appears and the
subject apprehending the object as it appears.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Mais, cela même, il se le dit assez vaguement, pour ne pas
s’effrayer. Il avait coutume, quand il s’agissait de prendre une grande
résolution, de se boucher un des yeux, comme on fait à un cheval de
picador.
Le jour du départ venu, il s’appliqua, pour ne pas donner l’éveil à
son père et à sa mère, à ne pas les embrasser avec trop d’effusions.
Il avait projeté de se rendre d’abord à Saint-Jacut de la mer,
entre Saint-Lunaire et Saint-Cast, non loin de Dinard. C’est là qu’un
de ses cousins, le peintre Isidore Gormas, l’artiste de la famille, avait
une résidence d’été.
Certainement, Isidore était un homme d’esprit libre… Aux yeux
des Nordement et de la plupart des Gormas, il passait pour un
garçon excentrique, qui ne faisait jamais rien comme tout le monde.
Quand il venait dîner en famille, il parlait aux parents de Robert
sur un ton de continuelle ironie.
Le jeune homme comptait bien sur cet être indépendant, en
marge de la société, pour se fortifier dans son rude dessein.
Il arriva chez le peintre à midi, par la diligence qui faisait le
service du Guildo, la petite station de chemin de fer qui desservait
Saint-Jacut. Isidore n’était pas chez lui. Mais il était prévenu de la
visite de Robert. Le jeune homme fut reçu par Julie, la concubine de
son cousin. Julie était un ancien modèle très déformé, et qui n’avait
plus à offrir qu’un morceau de cuisse présentable aux appétits d’art
de son compagnon : depuis plusieurs années, d’ailleurs, il se
spécialisait dans les marines.
Julie, après s’être fait connaître de Robert, lui servit du pain et du
fromage…
— Quand il part sur la grève, on ne sait jamais quand il lui plaira
de rentrer déjeuner…
Cette irrégularité dans les heures de repas, si différente des
habitudes réglées de la famille, parut à Robert un excellent indice de
l’indépendance d’idées de son cousin, et pour lui-même un bon
prélude à sa vie de grandes aventures.
Ce jour-là, Isidore ne s’attarda pas trop. Vers deux heures, il
s’encadra, avec un temps d’arrêt peut-être voulu, sur le seuil de la
maison rustique.
C’était un quinquagénaire trapu, à la barbe soigneusement
inculte, et le seul homme de cette localité campagnarde qui fût
encore habillé en paysan.
On mangea de l’omelette au lard et de petites côtelettes
carbonisées, le tout arrosé d’un liquide pâle, que le peintre
proclamait « du vrai cidre ». Il se faisait servir par Julie, qu’il appelait
« femme de l’Écriture », ce qui sembla fort pittoresque à Robert, au
moins les trois ou quatre premières fois.
Après le déjeuner, le fils Nordement déclina l’offre de prêt,
pourtant bien cordiale, d’une bonne vieille pipe usagée. Il préféra
aller chercher des cigarettes dans sa valise. Puis Isidore l’emmena à
travers ce village maritime, dont il se considérait visiblement comme
le maître, à sa façon large de marcher, d’interpeller les habitants, et
de projeter à droite et à gauche des crachats de pipe, à des
distances considérables.
Le moment était venu pour Robert de raconter toute l’histoire, ce
projet bourgeois et monstrueux de l’unir à Mlle Ourson.
Mais l’indignation révoltée du peintre ne se manifestait pas.
Il posa à son cousin mille questions sur la fortune des parents de
la jeune Irma.
— D’ailleurs, ajouta-t-il, ton père a certainement pris des
renseignements. Le père Nordement ne s’embarque pas sans
biscuit. Je ne t’apprendrai rien en te disant que c’est un homme des
plus forts que je connaisse. Quant à la maman, c’est une femme de
tête et qui sait bien ce qu’elle veut. Chaque fois que j’ai une petite
affaire en vue, un placement de fonds, quelque bout de terrain à
vendre dans mon pays là-bas, je suis allé demander des conseils à
ton père, et je les ai toujours suivis aveuglément.
Robert parla de la fadeur incurable de Mlle Ourson.
— Oh ! elle se fera, dit Isidore… Une personne jeune, avec tout
ce qu’il faut pour s’acheter de jolies toilettes…
Robert était un peu chancelant dans sa rébellion. Mais Isidore
diminua l’autorité de sa parole, en se proposant trop vite pour la
décoration d’une splendide villa, que Robert ne manquerait pas
d’édifier, aussitôt son mariage accompli.
— Le terrain est là, dit-il, à trois quarts de lieue sur la côte. On
peindrait sur les murs intérieurs des paysages marins…
Tandis qu’il décrivait, avec d’amples gestes, cette magnifique
demeure, Robert se demandait s’il lui serait possible de quitter, le
soir même, Saint-Jacut, Isidore et Julie. L’omelette au lard ne lui
avait pas paru d’une fraîcheur absolue, et le vrai cidre commençait à
lui donner d’authentiques crampes d’estomac.
Il pensait que la soirée serait insoutenable entre l’ancien modèle
et ce peintre, si superficiellement indépendant.
Alors il inventa une histoire de rendez-vous à Dinard. Il irait, dit-il
à Isidore, passer un jour ou deux là-bas, puis reviendrait ensuite à
Saint-Jacut, où il pourrait séjourner quelque temps.
Le peintre, heureusement, n’était pas homme à se cramponner à
un invité. Peut-être n’était-il pas maître chez lui autant qu’il en
donnait l’impression, et qui sait si la chute du jour ne voyait pas la
« femme de l’Écriture » se départir de son attitude de soumission
biblique ? Toujours est-il qu’Isidore s’occupa avec une vigilance
extraordinaire de trouver un tacot qui pût transporter, séance
tenante, le jeune homme à Dinard. Il semblait subitement considérer
le rendez-vous allégué par Robert comme une obligation
sentimentale quasi sacrée, dont personne n’avait le droit de gêner
l’accomplissement. Quant au principe consolateur du retour à Saint-
Jacut, il fut sauvegardé au moment du départ par un « A bientôt… Je
compte sur toi » tout à fait vague.
Robert, sur son auto de louage, partit donc dans le crépuscule
vers l’inconnu. A la nuit, il arriva à Dinard. La saison s’avançait, et la
ville commençait à se dépeupler. Robert trouva facilement une
chambre dans l’hôtel le plus en vue. Il dîna hâtivement au
restaurant, puis endossa son smoking. Il se rendit au Casino. Il
n’avait, pour ainsi dire, jamais joué au baccara. Mais l’idée lui était
venue tout à coup d’y risquer trois ou quatre cents francs, afin de
ramasser une petite fortune, qui lui donnerait plus de solidité pour
tenir son rôle d’enfant prodigue.
Il gagna cent francs, puis deux cents francs qu’il reperdit, et il
quitta le Casino vers minuit, ayant perdu trois fois la somme qu’il
s’était assignée comme rigoureuse limite. Il eut assez de force
d’âme ou de manque d’estomac pour garder les quinze louis qui lui
restaient sur l’allocation du voyage.
Décidément, le Destin voulait faciliter la séparation de Robert et
de sa famille. Car il était radicalement impossible d’annoncer cette
première mésaventure à M. Nordement, l’homme le plus austère du
monde sur la question des jeux de hasard.
Il restait à Robert de quoi se défrayer à l’hôtel pendant trois ou
quatre jours.
Sa vie difficile commençait.
Son âme fut partagée par parties inégales entre un âpre orgueil
et une assez vive appréhension.
Il était rentré dans sa chambre.
Longtemps il demeura accoudé à sa fenêtre, comme Rolla, le
héros romantique, dans la gravure qui illustre le poème de Musset.
Il se sentait plein d’un grand courage, qu’il ne savait à quoi
employer.
Le temps était passé où les enfants prodigues, exilés du foyer
paternel, n’avaient qu’un tour à faire dans la campagne pour trouver
une place de gardeur de pourceaux.
Pour se présenter dans une ferme, il eût fallu se procurer une
mise spéciale et remplacer ces vêtements de fils de famille par des
effets de toile, de préférence un peu usagés.
Il était trop grand pour se proposer comme mousse dans un
navire en partance. On aurait peut-être pu l’engager comme
steward, pour servir les passagers. Mais c’était encore un emploi
auquel il se sentait mal préparé. Et, par surcroît, il avait grand’peur
du mal de mer.
Se placer comme chauffeur ? Il savait conduire une auto, c’est-à-
dire qu’il avait passé son brevet. Mais il ignorait tout du mécanisme
des voitures. Les mots de « bougie », de « magnéto » l’effrayaient
comme des noms de maladie. Il ne voulait pas s’exposer, en pleine
route déserte, à avouer brusquement son incompétence à des
patrons suffoqués.
La nuit précédente s’était passée en chemin de fer. Le grand air
de la promenade en auto, la séance du casino l’avaient un peu
aplati. Il se jeta sur son lit et remit au lendemain la recherche d’une
position sociale.
IV

Or, une affiche manuscrite était apposée depuis huit jours dans le
hall de l’hôtel. Elle demandait un professeur de français pour être
attaché à une famille aisée.
C’était le seul emploi que Robert fût capable de remplir ; c’était le
seul auquel il n’eût pas songé.
Il aperçut la pancarte le lendemain matin, en descendant pour
son petit déjeuner, qu’il avait décidé de prendre, non à l’hôtel, mais
dans un petit café du pays ; car il fallait ménager ses ressources.
On demande un professeur de français pour famille aisée.
S’adresser au portier de l’hôtel.
Il fallut à Robert un certain effort pour surmonter sa gêne et pour
demander au portier quelle était la famille aisée en question. C’était
abdiquer un peu la dignité de voyageur indépendant et fastueux.
La nationalité exacte de M. et Mme Orega échappait à l’historien,
comme le lieu de naissance du divin Homère. Seul, un diagnostic un
peu aventuré d’ethnographe parvenait à situer approximativement
leur origine dans les régions équatoriales du nouveau continent.
De même, les âges plausibles de ce petit homme rasé
s’échelonnaient sur un long espace, entre trente et cinquante ans.
M. Orega connaissait un certain nombre de phrases françaises
qu’il débitait sans trop d’accent, en vous faisant brusquement la
surprise d’une faute invraisemblable, comme de dire : un table, ou :
une chapeau.
Mme Orega était une sorte de Fatma de deuxième fraîcheur, à qui
son apathie conférait une sorte de majesté. Elle ne semblait plus
très ferme, comme si, au cours de son existence, elle eût été
plusieurs fois gonflée et dégonflée.
« Le Paradis sur terre, a dit à peu près Victor Hugo, ce serait les
parents toujours jeunes, et les enfants toujours petits. » La jeunesse
des parents Orega était compromise, mais leur fils unique Esteban,
qui n’avait que quatorze ans, était resté petit et puéril comme un tout
jeune garçon.
C’était d’ailleurs un être charmant, à la fois attardé et précoce.
Tantôt, secouant ses cheveux bouclés, il avait des colères
enfantines. Et d’autres fois, il étonnait Robert par sa gravité mûrie,
par son langage éclatant d’images imprévues. Il semblait que la
nature ne l’eût laissé si petit que pour lui garder plus longtemps un
aspect d’enfant sublime.
Robert, qui avait été ébloui dès leur premier entretien, fut
stupéfait de voir qu’Esteban, la plume à la main, formait
grossièrement ses lettres, et qu’il avait une orthographe de cuisinière
peau-rouge.
Dès la présentation, c’est-à-dire le lendemain de son arrivée à
Dinard, il avait été agréé comme précepteur. Il prit tout de suite ses
repas à la table des Orega, non dans la salle du restaurant, mais
dans un petit salon à part. Il n’en fut pas fâché, car il pouvait
rencontrer à Dinard des personnes de connaissance, qui risquaient
ainsi d’être mises au courant de son nouvel emploi.
Les Orega, d’ailleurs, avaient des raisons à eux pour ne pas se
faire servir en public. Robert s’aperçut, dès la première minute, que
le repas de famille n’était qu’une occasion de disputes furieuses
entre M. et Mme Orega.
Il comprenait mal l’espagnol ; mais, si l’objet même de la
discussion lui échappait, il pouvait suivre du moins toutes les phases
de la lutte sur le visage étincelant des matcheurs. Parfois, c’était une
sèche imputation de son mari qui marquait le visage fatigué de la
belle Fatma d’une douleur extra-humaine. D’autres fois, sur une
réplique de la compagne de sa vie, on voyait M. Orega tout près de
défaillir, et le bronze de son visage passer du rouge marron à un
vert-de-gris superbe.
Robert avait été engagé sans discussion à mille francs par mois,
logé et nourri. Il avait demandé ce prix sur les indications du gérant.
Et, comme M. Orega « n’avait pas pipé », il considéra d’abord son
patron comme un homme fort généreux. Mais il ne fut pas long à
s’apercevoir que cette apparente largesse était faite d’une timidité
d’étranger, ignorant des usages. Dès que M. Orega était renseigné
sur le prix d’un objet, il discutait férocement pour soixante-quinze
centimes. Il payait à l’hôtel six à sept cents francs par jour pour lui et
sa suite, et quand le jeune Esteban demandait un peu d’argent de
poche, papa se faisait prier pour sortir un billet de quarante sous.
Robert était depuis trois jours au service de la famille Orega. Il
avait déjà écrit deux mots à ses parents. Il leur écrirait jusqu’à
nouvel ordre de courtes lettres, où il leur dirait simplement, comme
chaque fois d’ailleurs qu’il s’absentait, que sa santé était bonne. Et il
terminait en leur envoyant mille baisers, pas un de plus, pas un de
moins. Ces communications, rédigées de cette façon uniforme,
succinctes comme un chèque d’affection, il les leur enverrait jusqu’à
nouvel ordre. Car il n’était encore un enfant prodigue que pour lui-
même, et se rupture avec sa famille n’était consommée qu’en son
for intérieur.
Son état d’âme était au fond plus que satisfaisant. Il était installé
d’une façon confortable, mangeait bien, et ses fonctions ne lui
déplaisaient pas ; il commençait à s’attacher à ce petit Esteban, en
qui il retrouvait l’ardeur généreuse de son pauvre ami Francis
Picard, et il avait cette fois cette satisfaction supplémentaire d’être
l’aîné, l’éducateur d’âme. La grâce native de son élève lui donnait du
goût pour ce métier de directeur d’esprit, et il s’enorgueillissait à
l’idée de développer, d’épanouir les qualités certaines de ce jeune
aiglon de la famille Orega.
Le troisième jour de son entrée en fonctions, Robert avait
déjeuné, comme à son ordinaire, avec ses patrons et son élève. Le
choc avait été particulièrement rude entre les époux. Ils étaient
arrivés à table l’un et l’autre dans une parfaite condition de combat.
Comme des boulets et des pots d’huile bouillante, des griefs
réciproques, remontant à plus de vingt années, s’étaient croisés
sans répit par-dessus les plats… Vers le dessert, les lutteurs
reprenaient haleine, mais on sentait que l’empoignade
recommencerait aux liqueurs.
Le petit Esteban, un peu blasé sur ces émotions sportives, qui
avaient fini par le laisser indifférent, proposa à Robert d’aller faire un
tour sur la plage. Le précepteur accepta avec empressement. Il
s’arrêta au bureau de l’hôtel pour écrire à ses parents les deux
lignes protocolaires, pendant qu’Esteban allait chercher un
pardessus au premier étage, dons l’appartement qu’il occupait avec
ses parents.
Sa lettre écrite depuis quelques minutes, Robert s’étonna de ne
pas voir redescendre son élève. Il prit le parti d’aller voir ce qui se
passait…
Comme il débouchait sur le palier du premier, il vit Esteban se
glisser hors d’une chambre, qui ne dépendait pas de l’appartement
de sa famille, et regarder autour de lui avec précautions dans le
couloir désert.
Le jeune garçon aperçut Robert, eut soudain l’air gêné, et fit à
son précepteur un signe de silence.
Tous deux, sans rien dire, descendirent l’escalier. Dans la rue,
Esteban n’avait toujours pas ouvert la bouche.
— Hé bien, qu’est-ce que tout cela signifie ? se décida à
demander Robert.
Esteban répondit évasivement.
— Ce n’est rien… une farce… Je vous dirai plus tard…
Après tout, il n’y avait peut-être là qu’une gaminerie. Robert n’en
était pas sûr, mais il détestait les enquêtes, quand elles menaçaient
de le conduire à une découverte désagréable.
Il ne put cependant s’empêcher de remarquer qu’Esteban, après
s’être tu, s’était mis maintenant à parler, avec une volubilité
extraordinaire, de sujets sans grand intérêt… Il y avait un effort
visible dans ce flux de paroles, comme un besoin de changer les
idées de son compagnon et de l’attirer n’importe où, mais loin de ses
soupçons.
— Dites-moi des vers, demanda-t-il à Robert, dès qu’ils se furent
assis sur la plage.
Robert, nourri de poésie, résistait difficilement à une invitation de
ce genre, d’autant plus qu’il trouvait chez le petit Esteban un
auditeur frénétiquement sensible, qui écoutait les poèmes avec des
yeux insatiables.
Cette séance de lyrisme dura jusqu’à l’heure du goûter. Ils se
rendirent au Casino. Esteban voulut à toutes forces payer les
consommations, et, au grand étonnement de son précepteur, sortit
de sa poche un billet de cent francs. Or, Esteban, au déjeuner, avait
eu besoin de grands efforts pour soutirer quarante sous au père
Orega.
Mais Robert n’était pas au bout de ses surprises.
— Papa et maman, dit le jeune garçon, sont partis en auto sur la
côte. Ils ne rentreront pas avant le dîner… Voulez-vous me faire un
grand plaisir ?
— Voyons cela, fit Robert.
— C’est de jouer à la boule pour moi. Comme je suis trop jeune,
les employés ne me laisseraient pas jouer… Soyez gentil, dites ?
Jouez pour moi…
L’éducateur essaya de résister. Son disciple avait pris sur lui une
telle autorité que sa résistance fut courte, et qu’il se décida à
s’approcher de la boule, pendant que le petit Orega restait près de
lui, mais en dehors de cette corde de soie, qui prétendait creuser un
abîme infranchissable entre les majeurs et les mineurs.
Le petit jeune homme jouait par louis, et passa à Robert, à la
dérobée, deux ou trois billets de cent francs, qui fondirent en
quelques minutes.
Il tirait d’autres billets de sa poche… Mais Robert se gendarma…
— Je ne veux plus que vous jouiez… C’est très mal… Voyez-
vous que vos parents viennent à l’apprendre ?
— Et c’est sur vous que cela retombera ?
— Ce n’est pas ça, dit Robert gêné… Ce n’est pas du tout pour
cette raison… Et puis, je vous ai déclaré que vous ne joueriez plus…
Vous ne jouerez plus, voilà tout.
Et, ce disant, il s’en alla d’un pas résolu vers la sortie.
Esteban le suivait docilement jusqu’à l’hôtel. Arrivé dans le hall,
Robert, machinalement, s’arrêta devant une sorte de tableau où l’on
placardait les nouvelles du jour…
Or, parmi les informations des agences et les résultats des
courses, il vit une petite affiche manuscrite. On annonçait qu’il avait
été perdu dans l’hôtel une broche « émeraude et saphir ».
Robert, sans s’en rendre compte, ne put s’empêcher de tourner
les yeux vers Esteban, mais le petit Orega regardait cette même
affiche avec une indifférence parfaite.
— Allons travailler un peu avant le dîner, fit Robert.
Ils montèrent ensemble l’escalier. Sur le palier du premier,
Esteban s’arrêta pour donner la main à une jeune fille très forte et
très brune, qui était encore habillée en petite fille, et coiffée avec des
nattes pendantes.
— Ma petite amie Concepcion, dit le jeune garçon… Mon
professeur, M. Robert Nordement…
Concepcion fit une sorte de révérence un peu gauche, sourit à
Robert de toute sa bonne figure et sourit ensuite de même à son
petit ami Esteban, qu’elle dépassait de la tête.
Ils quittèrent la jeune fille pour se diriger vers l’appartement des
Orega. Ils passèrent devant la chambre d’où Esteban était sorti avec
mystère après le déjeuner.
La porte de cette chambre était grande ouverte. Deux
domestiques de l’étage étaient en arrêt sur le seuil. Robert s’arrêta,
lui aussi, et vit que, dans la chambre, le gérant de l’hôtel était en
conférence avec deux messieurs inconnus.
Esteban n’était pas curieux : il s’éloignait, sans hâte apparente,
dans la direction de leur appartement. Robert, s’adressant à un des
domestiques, fit un signe d’interrogation…
— C’est monsieur le commissaire qui se trouve là, dit le
domestique, rapport à une broche qui s’a trouvé perdue. Voilà la
seconde fois en huit jours qu’il se perd un bijou chez ces personnes.
On commence à se dire que ce n’est guère naturel. Heureusement
que, nous autres, on est connu, et que l’on sait qui nous sommes.
Mais, tout de même, ça finit par n’être pas agréable.
— Qui est-ce qui habite ici ? demanda Robert.
— Un vieux monsieur argentin et sa demoiselle.
— Ah !… La demoiselle, n’est-ce pas cette jeune fille, avec des
nattes dans le dos, que j’ai vue tout à l’heure sur le palier ?
— Justement, monsieur. C’est à elle la broche que l’on est en
train de cercher.
… Robert, malgré lui, regarda dans la direction où Esteban était
parti. Mais il y avait beau temps que le petit garçon avait disparu.
Robert gagna l’appartement des Orega. Esteban était dans le
salon, à la table où il s’asseyait pour prendre sa leçon. Sans
attendre son précepteur, il avait pris un cahier… Il était déjà en train
d’écrire, avec une application extraordinaire.
Robert fit d’abord, de long en large, une vingtaine de pas…
— Écoutez, Esteban…
— Monsieur…
— Je veux en avoir le cœur net. Pourquoi êtes-vous sorti
mystérieusement de cette chambre il y a trois heures ? Pourquoi
cette broche a-t-elle disparu ?
Esteban s’était levé. Il s’efforçait de regarder son précepteur bien
en face…
— Je ne sais pas, murmura-t-il…
— Vous savez, dit avec autorité Robert.
Esteban était toujours debout, les lèvres serrées…
— Hé bien ? dit Robert.
Esteban le regardait un peu haletant, avec des yeux qui
semblaient craintifs…
Il vit alors dans le regard de son maître une expression dont
l’excessive dureté l’étonna. Il comprit alors de quoi on le
soupçonnait, et dit à voix basse, comme sur un ton de reproche…
— Oh non ! pas ça tout de même !
… Vous ne supposez pas que c’est moi qui ai pris cette broche ?
Et comme Robert ne répondait rien…
— Oh non ! voyons ! Vous ne me croyez pas capable d’une chose
pareille ? Je ne sais pas quelles bêtises je ferai plus tard… mais je
ne serai jamais un voleur. J’en suis sûr, ajouta-t-il avec une bonne
petite simplicité, qui, ma foi, n’était pas dénuée d’une certaine
noblesse.
Robert en fut tout impressionné.
— Oh ! cela, je pense bien… répondit-il.
Et il fut, à partir de cet instant, profondément convaincu qu’il
n’avait jamais soupçonné d’un vol ce gentil petit Esteban…
— Vous avez tout de même quelque chose à m’expliquer ?
continua-t-il avec douceur.
Pendant la première partie de l’entretien, Esteban avait parlé
comme un homme. A compter de ce moment, et sans transition, il fit
sa confession d’une voix enfantine…
— La jeune fille que vous avez vue tout à l’heure, Concepcion,
est très amoureuse de moi…
— Ah ! vraiment ! fit Robert en souriant.
— Moi, vous savez, je ne l’aime pas beaucoup. C’est à dire que
je l’aime des fois. On s’était connu, elle et moi, au Brésil, une saison
que l’on avait passée avec nos parents aux environs de Rio. C’était il
y a deux ans. Voilà que cette année on s’est retrouvé à Dinard. Elle
était devenue une grande fille. Elle a maintenant seize ans. C’est
cette année qu’elle m’a demandé de venir la voir pendant que son
papa n’y était pas. La première fois que je suis arrivé dans sa
chambre, elle a commencé à m’embrasser en me disant qu’elle
m’aimait et qu’elle voulait m’épouser. Chaque fois que je vais la voir,
elle m’embrasse tout le temps. Moi, presque jamais. Je ne peux pas
me forcer à embrasser les gens quand je ne les aime pas. Il y a des
fois, je ne dis pas, où je l’aime un peu, Concepcion. Mais c’est assez
rare.
Robert regardait Esteban, et se demandait : Est-il aussi ingénu
qu’il en a l’air ? Mais, s’il n’est pas ingénu, qu’est-ce que c’est que ce
petit démon ? Robert n’avait pas assez d’expérience de la vie pour
savoir que l’on n’est pas forcément un « roublard » quand on cesse
d’être un ingénu. La vérité, c’est que les gens sont toujours moins
ingénus et moins roublards qu’on le croit.
Mais les étonnements de Robert n’étaient pas finis encore…
— Un jour, continuait Esteban, Concepcion m’a donné de
l’argent…
Et, ce disant, jamais le visage du petit Orega n’eut un tel air
d’innocence…
— Par cent et deux cents francs, elle m’a déjà donné près de
deux mille francs. Je les ai mis de côté. Je voudrais faire jouer pour
moi au baccara, car je vois bien qu’à la boule il n’y a pas moyen de
gagner. Quand j’aurai une belle somme, je raconterai à papa que je
l’ai économisée depuis cinq ans, et je m’achèterai un side-car…
— Mais, dit Robert, comment vous donne-t-elle tout cet argent ?
Est-ce que vous lui en demandez ?
— Jamais, dit Esteban. C’est elle qui en a eu l’idée pour la
première fois. Et, je vous dirai que maintenant, quand j’ai envie
qu’elle m’en donne, je ne lui en demande pas. Mais je sais bien
prendre un air ennuyé jusqu’à ce qu’elle aille en chercher dans son
armoire…
— Oui, oui… fit Robert.
— Alors, ces derniers temps, comme il ne lui en restait plus, elle
s’est arrangée avec sa miss pour faire vendre des bijoux, qui sont
d’ailleurs à elle. Elle a vendu la semaine dernière ses boucles
d’oreilles, et elle a dit à son papa qu’elle les avait perdues. Elle vient
encore de recommencer avec sa broche.
— Ah ! très bien !… fit Robert.
— Mais je crois, dit Esteban avec un bon et franc petit rire, qu’elle
fera bien de ne pas recommencer, car j’ai idée que ça ne prendrait
plus…
La confession était terminée, et le confesseur était assez
embarrassé pour trouver les termes du commentaire sévère qu’il
aurait fallu. Pourtant, la matière à discours ne manquait pas. Avec ce
phénomène comme Esteban, pour un éducateur d’âme, il y avait,
comme on dit, de quoi faire.
Heureusement pour Robert, qui ne voyait pas tout de suite la
forme de son homélie, M. et Mme Orega rentraient de leur
promenade. Ils étaient assez calmes l’un et l’autre : ils venaient de
se promener en compagnie d’autres personnes, à qui il était décent
d’offrir l’image d’un ménage parfaitement uni. Il arriva qu’ils s’étaient
laissé prendre eux-mêmes à cette comédie. Leur hostilité était
momentanément calmée. Elle ne se rallumerait qu’après quelques
instants de tête à tête ou devant des êtres inexistants, tels que leur
fils et son précepteur.
Ce soir-là, d’ailleurs, M. Orega avait d’autres préoccupations. Ils
venaient de recevoir une dépêche d’amis à eux, qui leur proposaient
de venir les rejoindre au Havre. Ils se préparaient donc à quitter
Dinard le lendemain, car ces braves nomades n’avaient jamais de
fortes attaches avec les lieux où ils séjournaient, au cours de leur vie
de perpétuelle villégiature.
M. Orega demanda à Robert de partir le soir même pour Caen,
où ils avaient projeté de s’arrêter un jour ou deux. Le jeune
Nordement devait faire l’office de fourrier, se rendre compte de ce
qu’il y avait de plus confortable dans les hôtels, et en référer par
téléphone à M. Orega, qui n’attendait que ce signal pour quitter
Dinard en auto.
Robert arriva le lendemain matin vers dix heures dans la ville
normande, grâce à une savante combinaison de trains, que l’on
finissait par découvrir en compulsant trois ou quatre pages de
l’indicateur, après s’être reporté à des notes à peu près introuvables,
où vous renvoyaient d’invisibles minuscules, que distinguaient à la
loupe quelques rares initiés.
Pendant ses insomnies, entretenues par des changements de
trains et de froids stationnements dans des gares abandonnées de
Dieu et des hommes, Robert s’était appliqué à songer aux
remontrances qu’il ferait au petit Orega, et en avait soigneusement
ordonné le plan.
Une fois à Caen, il se fit conduire dans l’hôtel le plus en vue, où il
trouva pour ses patrons un appartement suffisamment somptueux.
Toutefois, avant de le retenir définitivement, il demanda la
communication avec Dinard, et se dit avec satisfaction qu’en
attendant le moment de l’avoir obtenue, il aurait tout le loisir de
savourer tranquillement son petit déjeuner du matin. Mais le dieu
sournois du téléphone n’aime pas que l’on veuille pénétrer ses
voies. Et Robert était à peine installé devant son chocolat, que le
portier ouvrait la porte du restaurant, et annonçait que Dinard était à
l’appareil.
— C’est M. Orega ? dit Robert dans la cabine.
— Oui, c’est moi.
— Ici M. Nordement… Je vous téléphone de Caen, de l’hôtel. J’ai
trouvé ce qu’il vous faut comme appartement.
— Oui… Hé bien… Hé bien, ne le retenez pas… Oui… Madame
et moi… nous n’avons plus le même avis… Nous demeurons encore
à Dinard…
— Ah !… Que dois-je faire alors ?
… Hésitation…
— Allô !… fit Robert.
— Je suis là, fit M. Orega… Je suis là… Écoutez, monsieur
Nordement, dites-moi à quelle adresse je puis faire parvenir une
somme… une somme de mille francs, ou un peu davantage, si vous
pensez que je vous dois plus… Madame et moi nous avons pris
cette décision… que l’enfant devait abandonner ses leçons… qu’il
valait mieux du repos pour la santé de ce petit…
Robert, étonné, resta sans répondre. Ce fut le tour de M. Orega
de faire : Allô ! allô !
— Vous êtes là, monsieur Nordement ?
— Oui, Monsieur. Mais permettez-moi de vous dire que si vous
êtes maître de faire ce que bon vous semble pour l’éducation de
votre fils… je ne puis pas, moi, me séparer de vous sur cette simple
raison. Il me faut d’autres explications que celle que vous me
donnez. Vous reconnaîtrez vous-même qu’elle n’est pas suffisante.
Silence absolu dans l’appareil.
— Allô !… fit sévèrement Robert.
— Je suis toujours là, monsieur Nordement. Alors, je dois vous
dire… je dois vous dire… le vrai… Un monsieur… que je connais…
un ami, me dit que hier, pendant que nous étions, madame et moi, à
la promenade, vous êtes allé à la boule avec l’enfant… et que là
vous avez joué… C’est votre droit, monsieur Nordement… Toutefois,
madame et moi, nous pensons que l’exemple n’est pas bon pour ce
jeune garçon…
— Ah ! ne put s’empêcher de dire Robert, ce n’est pas
exactement comme ça que ça s’est passé…
— Comment cela s’est-il passé ?
Robert, son premier mot de protestation lâché, s’était repris… Il
s’était dit qu’il ne devait pas trahir son petit élève…
D’autre part, depuis quelques secondes, il avait le désir
impérieux de rompre toutes relations avec M. Orega, pour qui il
éprouvait une haine subite et définitive. Il se borna donc à ajouter,
non sans sécheresse :
— Ça va bien, monsieur, ça va bien…
— Vous me comprenez un peu, monsieur Nordement ?
— Oui, je vous comprends, monsieur, ça va bien.
— Où dois-je vous envoyer la somme en question ?
— Nulle part, monsieur. Je n’ai pas fait votre affaire. J’estime que
vous ne me devez plus rien.
— Ah ! je ne comprends pas cela de cette façon…
— C’est ma façon à moi de le comprendre… Vous réglerez, si
vous le voulez bien, mes frais d’hôtel pour le temps que j’ai passé à
votre service. Vous m’avez remis hier deux billets de cent francs
pour mon voyage ici. Je prélèverai là-dessus les frais que j’ai eus, et,
à la première occasion, je vous rembourserai le reste. Ou plutôt je
vous le renverrai par la poste. Car il se peut bien que l’on ne se
revoie pas tout de suite…
— Pourtant, monsieur Nordement, je ne puis admettre…
— Je l’admets parfaitement, monsieur… Au revoir, monsieur…
Et il raccrocha le récepteur. Il le décrocha ensuite pour dire :
« Faites bien mes amitiés à Esteban… » Mais la communication était
déjà interrompue avec Dinard. Et la voix de M. Orega était déjà
remplacée par une voix campagnarde, qui, d’on ne savait où,
demandait : « C’est la mairie de Bayeux ?… C’est la mairie de
Bayeux ?… » et répétait cette phrase éperdue dix fois, quinze fois,
dans un silence inexorable…
V

Tout compte vérifié, avec le peu d’argent qui lui restait au


moment où il avait été engagé par M. Orega, Robert se trouvait avoir
sur lui un peu plus de trois cents francs. Il n’y avait pas là de quoi
tranquilliser un homme prévoyant.
Mais il s’était passé en lui, depuis quelques jours, un phénomène
assez curieux.
Le fait de s’être détaché de sa famille avait déjà eu ce précieux
avantage de le débarrasser d’une partie de la prévoyance un peu
lourde qu’il avait acquise au foyer paternel.
Trois jours auparavant, il avait vu, pour la première fois de sa vie,
le Destin intervenir directement dans ses affaires en le mettant sur le
chemin de la famille Orega… Cette chance avait duré ce qu’elle
avait duré : au moins avait-il été tiré d’embarras pendant trois jours.
Depuis son enfance, il s’était borné à suivre l’Étoile familiale.
Maintenant il lui semblait qu’il avait sa petite étoile à lui…
Sans situation sociale, il éprouvait une vague allégresse. Il
s’avançait gaiement vers la brume de son avenir. C’était une brume
blanche, éclairée d’une confiance juvénile.
Sa rupture avec la famille Orega le satisfaisait. Certes, il s’était
senti un petit attachement d’amitié pour le jeune Orega. Tout de
même, il ne déplorait pas qu’un brusque coup du sort l’eût séparé de
ce personnage un peu trouble.
Évidemment c’eût été une tâche intéressante que d’essayer de le
moraliser. Mais que d’aléa dans cette entreprise !
L’aventure de Concepcion, acceptée par Esteban avec tant
d’innocence, n’eût sans doute pas trouvé, une fois divulguée, des
appréciations très indulgentes dans l’opinion publique.
On aurait su que le précepteur était au courant de l’histoire…
Somme toute, il valait mieux avoir semé tous ces gens-là, et
chercher dans le vaste monde des compagnons de vie moins
compromettants.
Voilà ce qu’il se disait en mangeant son chocolat refroidi. Et son
bien-être moral eût été complet sans le petit ennui d’être obligé de
donner contre-ordre à l’hôtel, et de prévenir la gérance que
décidément il ne prenait pas pour le soir l’appartement qu’il avait à
peu près retenu. Il se crut obligé, au bureau de la réception, de faire
tout un récit, de raconter que « ses amis » n’étaient pas bien
portants, et n’avaient pu quitter Dinard comme ils avaient cru. « Il est
possible, dit-il, qu’ils m’envoient tout à l’heure une dépêche pour me
dire qu’ils vont mieux, qu’ils se ravisent et qu’ils viennent tout de
même… Mais n’immobilisez pas l’appartement… » Il partit ensuite,
sa valise à la main, la tête très haute, après avoir remis au portier un
pourboire tout à fait en disproportion avec les ressources d’un
précepteur jeté brusquement sur le pavé.
Qu’allait-il faire ?
Rester à Caen ?
Pourquoi pas, après tout ?
Il valait mieux ne pas grever son budget du prix d’un nouveau
billet pour se transporter en chemin de fer dans une autre ville, où
ses chances de trouver une position n’eussent pas été plus
nombreuses que dans « l’Athènes normande ».
Caen, avec ses cinquante mille âmes, offrait à peu près autant
de ressources que la plupart des villes de France. L’enfant prodigue
s’interdisait, bien entendu, tout séjour à Paris, où son père avait sa
maison de commerce et son domicile d’hiver.

You might also like