li symbolizes the object of enlightenment, constituting “truth” and what is real. Truth requires empirical verification and investigation of the real. As Tao-sheng puts it, “li should be verified and realized. This is thus called ‘truth.’ ‘Truth’ denotes investigating what is real. Hence it is called real.” This again is illustrated in a quotation of Tao-sheng by Chūn-cheng (of T’ang):

The Dharma-Master Chu Tao-sheng says: Things are necessarily caused and conditioned, without self-nature (svabhāva). Hence they are not existent. They arise in accordance with cause and conditions. Hence they are not nonexistent. Being not existent and not nonexistent both show the Dharma to be real. Being real, it is referred to as “true” (or supreme). No error, hence it is called “truth.” Contradicting what is “true,” it is called “conventional.” Not “true,” hence it is not “truth.” Therefore what is unreal and what is real are relative to each other, and the designations of “true (supreme)” and “conventional” [truths] are produced.

Here, Tao-sheng seems to suggest that the conventional as such does not constitute “truth,” but the latter is qualified by the former to compose conventional truth as one term; whereas in the case of the real (or supreme) truth, the two words match naturally with each other in their true senses.

The supremacy of the absolute domain over the relative, nonetheless, does not abrogate the value of worldly truth for the enlightened. That is so, not only because li as the symbol of the final reality unites the two domains, but also because it represents an expedient means for helping unenlightened beings. As Sangharakshita aptly puts it, “only by means of the conventional truth could the absolute truth be realized; the one was the stepping-stone to the other.” As cited previously, Taosheng clarifies: “Mahāyānistic enlightenment consists originally in not discarding what is near, the realm of birth-and-death (saṃsāra), to seek it in the far.” That nirvāṇa is not to be sought apart from saṃsāra is a Mahāyāna principle: the Mādhyamika Buddhists arrive at identification of the two by way of the principle of “emptiness.” In light of this and the fact that Tao-sheng does not depart from the Nirvāṇa Sūtra in this, it may be concluded that, as far as the notion of two truths is concerned, Tao-sheng remains a Mahāyānist, though the metaphysical structure behind the argument is shared, and probably reinforced, by neo-Taoist philosophy.

Taoism treats language as a tool somewhat deficient in unfolding ultimate reality to the full extent, as epitomized by the adage in the Lao-tzu: “Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know” (Chapter 56). Also the Hsi-tz’u ch’uan (“Commentary on the Appended Judgements” of the I Ching), which is a text of Wang Pi’s commentary, quotes Confucius as stating: “Writing does not do full justice to words, which in turn do not do full justice to ideas” (11-12). The ineptness of words can be seen in the ineffable nature of li. Kuo Hsiang echoes this point: “The ultimate li is not something to be spoken of … li is not that which can be verbalized.”

Tao-sheng is in agreement with the Taoists on the limits of language. Various adjectival modifiers descriptive of li, such as deep, profound, wide, mysterious, far-off, and dark, all clearly identifiable in the Taoist literature, express the unspeakable nature of li. At best the role of language is to circumscribe li through approximation. He pointedly declares: “li is transcendent of words.”

Implicit in the limitation of words, on the other hand, is their intermediary value. Language belongs to the category of exigency (ch’ūan) or expediency (fang-pien, upāya). Tao-sheng declares: “li by nature is unspeakable, and yet we speak of it by resort to words in their temporary and false role, which we call expedient means.” Words as a medium or “ferry” are indispensable, especially to those who have not “witnessed” li in the course of their self-realization. In this respect, language can be best described as a catalyst in the realization of li. In Buddhist terms, it can be counted among the supporting causes (pratyaya), whereas the primary cause (hetu) making realization possible lies in the original capacity innate in human nature. …

Nevertheless, language, especially in connection with the Sage, is sometimes credited with more than a catalytic role. Here, Tao-sheng also finds common ground with the neo-Taoists. The words of the Sage, who has had an experiential encounter with li, are an authentic testimonial, a right source of mystical knowledge. Language here does not remain merely descriptive but becomes prescriptive. Therefore, in the adulation of the sūtra, repeatedly urged by the sūtra itself, there may not be anything unacceptable to Tao-sheng, whose approach in the commentary otherwise reflects a rationalist frame of mind.

A typical course for a would-be Buddhist was to study Confucianism first, switching later to Taoism, and finally settling in Buddhism. This pattern is a process of spiritual evolution typically found in the careers of Chinese Buddhists throughout all eras. Tao-sheng was no exception; he, too, passed through the secular stages of training (though they were relatively brief in his case) to arrive at Buddhism. …

As religious practices became more diversified with the introduction of Buddhism, it became an accepted idea that the way (Tao), which is one by nature, can be arrived at via different paths. This view became a fundamental proposition for Tao-sheng’s contemporaries, repeated in their writings as it had been formulated earlier in the I Ching: “[In the world] there are many different roads but the destination is the same.”

Tao-sheng’s life (ca. 360-434) lies mainly within the period of Eastern Chin (317-419), extending a little further to that of the Sung Dynasty (House of Liu) (420-477). The Chin era witnessed the development of “gentry Buddhism,” a product of interchanges between monks and intellectuals who fled from the north after its conquest and helped found a new dynasty in the south. Gentry Buddhism thus refers to the class of people involved and their tendency to focus on philosophical rather than religious issues. Tao-sheng was first initiated into this form of Chinese Buddhism.

The introduction of Buddhism to China had taken place about three centuries earlier, generally believed to have occurred around the time of the Christian era. In spite of this great length of time, Buddhism had not really taken root in Chinese soil. Only since the middle of the second century, with the influx of missionaries from the Indian subcontinent and its perimeter (including An Shih-kao, from Parthia, the first missionary ever recorded), could tangible signs of development be found. The influx of missionaries led to the introduction and translation of āgamas, sūtras, and expositions, activities that had increased greatly by the time of Tao-sheng, due mainly to the missionary zeal of Kumārajīva, with whom the former studied for some time. These thinkers were to encounter and challenge the presuppositions of the existing traditions and face a number of new hermeneutical and exegetical problems.

[Tao-sheng’s commentary] has extraordinary historical value. As the first commentary ever written on the Lotus, a work that itself was to become an increasingly important scripture in East Asia, it set many patterns for later commentators as well as founders of the Chinese Buddhist schools. Most likely, [this commentary] is the first exegetical commentary in a full-fledged form in Chinese Buddhism. In that respect, it is probable that the work had a far-reaching impact beyond the area circumscribed by the Lotus, whether individual writers realized or acknowledged it.

The [commentary] naturally had a considerable effect on the interpretation of the Lotus. The fact that Tao-sheng attached such importance to the scripture by writing a commentary foreshadows the rise of the Lotus as a basic text in the Chinese Buddhist tradition. The Lotus emerged as one of the most influential of the scriptures of Mahāyāna Buddhism.

Tao-sheng’s attempt at schematization and rationalization of the Buddha’s diverse, if not contradictory, doctrines under a single teaching program in four units long prefigures the p’an-chiao systems of the T’ien-t’ai and Hua-yen doctrines. This rationalization is linked closely with the motif of diversity in unity, which was to be stressed especially by the T’ien-t’ai syncretists. As for the p’an-chaio [ the Chinese systems of doctrinal classification], the T’ien-t’ai and the Hua-yen Buddhists owed Tao-sheng more than the general idea of it. In their p’an-chiao schemas are found the two components, sudden and gradual teachings, for whose conception, as fully seen in the [commentary], Tao-sheng was primarily responsible. Thus one may say that the essence of Tao-sheng’s understanding regarding the Lotus found its way into some of the more important theoretical works in Chinese Buddhism.