弘明集 7

English (machine translation) 7

Language: English

7.1

Compiled by the Vinaya Master Shi Sengyou of Jianchu Monastery in Yangdu of the Liang

Refutation of the Treatise on the Barbarians and the Chinese, by Zhu Zhaozhi / Inquiry on the Treatise on the Barbarians and the Chinese, by Zhu Guangzhi / Master Huitong's Refutation of the Treatise on the Barbarians and the Chinese / Master Sengmin's Treatise on the Rong and the Hua

7.3

Refutation of the Daoist Gu's Treatise on the Barbarians and the Chinese

7.4

By Zhu Zhaozhi, Regular Attendant

7.5

I have seen your lofty discussion, the "Debate on the Barbarian and the Chinese," which deliberates the principles of the two teachings and marshals the scriptures' essential purport. Profoundly meeting in the mystery and wonderfully harmonising in good concurrence, it was no empty speech! In former days, Ying Jifu put Confucius and Laozi on an equal footing; later, you, my worthy friend, also equated Li [Er] and Śākya. The divergent paths of myriad generations converge in a single dawn; the disputed contentions across successive dynasties find joyous resolution in the present day. Appreciating what is deep and understanding what is far-reaching, this has brought relief and comfort to many. Of discussions beneficial to the world, none surpasses this. Yet, when each espoused what he preferred, liver and gallbladder were treated as Chu and Yue, knowing nothing of each other’s sweetness or bitterness. Though appearing as two, in constituting their real nature they must be one; yet people attacked and provoked one another, and deviant doctrines subsequently arose. The incessant back-and-forth has brought no small harm, which is truly lamentable. At first, it seemed like ascending to heaven, shining its light beyond worldly confines; in the end, it was like sinking into an abyss, its bright radiance obscured and submerged. When a guide loses the way, many will stray on the path. Therefore, forgetting my own shallowness and ignorance, I hurriedly offer a helping hand. Now I first spread out my thoughts, not yet enumerating my regrets. I trust that one who follows goodness as water flows will not mind an initial divergence. Mountains and rivers lie far between, and a pleasant conversation cannot be had soon; I merely entrust this to writing in lieu of a brief face-to-face encounter. Once the banners of our minds meet, the understanding opened will not be shallow. Zhu Zhaozhi speaks: The sage's Dao is vacant and tranquil, hence able to respond perfectly without fixed bounds. Because its response is without fixed bounds, there is nowhere it responds that it does not fit. Thus, looking from the perspective of the sage, examining the mind, there was originally no name; through myriad encounters, names arise from the encounters themselves, and so designations and titles become manifest. Therefore, one whose wisdom is all-encompassing is termed the "Rightly Awakened" (Samyaksaṃbuddha); one whose comprehension meets no obstacle is termed a "sage"; and that which unfolds things and accomplishes affairs, leaving nothing unreached, is termed the "Dao." In that case, a sage does not exceed awakening, and awakening does not depart from the Dao. You surely know this; why seek afar? However, Chinese and barbarians have different customs, and their inclinations differ. The sage acts in accordance with conditions; hence the teachings he established may vary. Yet the Minor Rites and the Pure Precepts both number three hundred; the dignified bearings and deportment are likewise both three thousand. What may differ lies solely in the names of "Dao" and "Buddha," and in their garments and attire. An enlightened person still regards his corporeal frame as an inn; how could robes and caps even be worth debating? What might cause displeasure lies only in the beginning of the established teachings, where Chinese and barbarians applied them differently, and in current customs, which govern further changes and transformations: this single matter ought to be debated. Now I shall speak of it. The admonitions of a sage in moving people must accord with and adapt to them. The Eastern Realm values refinement; thus he instituted the attire of robes and caps, the deportment of rites and music, the etiquette of bending, stretching, bowing, and looking up, and the ornaments of hats, hairpins, and jade pendants, in order to magnify his Dao. This is drawing [them] in by making it proximate. Barbarian customs esteem plainness; therefore he taught them by means of ultimate simplicity: shaving the head and shedding fine adornments, wearing unstitched garments, quieting desires to open illumination, and anticipating the spirit across vast kalpas to nurture their minds. This is pushing [them] toward what is distant. The methods of the Dao involve gathering and eating mushroom essence, consuming mist and ingesting cinnabar, breathing the Great Oneness, and expelling the old and drawing in the new: in great matters, flying with spirits and feather-transformed; in small matters, light, robust, and free from disease, thereby preserving their bodies. This is applying [the teaching] directly to obtain results. All three respond to stimuli and feelings; using any one of them exclusively is not what I call the ultimate. That which is the extremity of the Dao is neither refined nor plain, neither immediate nor separate, neither near nor far: who abandons it, and who abides in it? It is neither partial nor partisan, neither condemned nor praised; perfect, unimpeded, and tranquil, provisionally named "nothingness" (wu). In such a wondrous realm, what difference is there? Yet since the August Xi, each promoted his own region, transmitting master to master without mutual interference. Truly, this was because both sides were sufficient unto themselves and had no further seeking beyond. Thus, since the Han dynasty, the pure spirit has grown ever more dilute, and benevolence and righteousness have gradually decayed. The principles of the Great Dao have ceased to be transmitted, and study of the Five Classics has grown ever scarcer. When the great righteousness was betrayed, subtle words were cut off; none travelled through the gateway of all wonders, nor was the deportment of the Golden Mean beheld. The arts of ritual fell into ruin, elegant music collapsed, customs sank into decline, and order between ruler and subject was lost. The orthodox teaching degenerated, and human relations lost their order. Thereupon, the sagely Dao encompassed all, and the heavenly movement reached afar: the dark transformation flowed eastward, binding the world with compassion. Sentient beings disdained what they had previously practiced and rejoiced in what they newly heard; changing their stance, they followed harmony, and essential truths were revived once more. Thus chambers of subtle words were erected everywhere, and guests chanting the mystery were found in all places. This can be seen from facts, not merely set forth in empty words. Is it not that things cannot remain perpetually blocked, and so it was received by the hexagram Tongren? In my humble opinion, when a sage nurtures the common people, it is just like a loving mother raising an infant: when it first eats, she feeds it sweet and rich foods; once it tires of sweet and rich foods, she switches to fat and honey; once it tires of fat and honey, its five bodily parts are peaceful and harmonious, internally and externally tranquil and content—its benefit is consummate! Is it not so? The principle being thus, to arbitrarily lay down blame and disparagement through delusional distinctions is to fail to realise the centre of the circle and be unfit to discuss principles with. The two worthies push and toss back and forth like sawing timber; even if it is sawn apart, it is not an act that accords with reason. If one analyses according to reason, why wait to push and toss? You laid down the origin and opened the premise, making clear that Confucius and Laozi are the Buddha; yet in concluding the chapter and formulating your arguments, your granting and denying diverged widely. Why should the scholar-officials' holding tablets and kneeling be the deportment of all China, while prostrating at the Buddha’s feet meets with the disparagement of a 'fox squatting'? Why should ceremonial robes and deep bowing be the respect of the royal domain, while placing the right knee on the ground receives the insult of a 'dog crouching'? May I ask: if Confucius is the Rightly Awakened One and Śākya represents deviant views, I would not even allow today's discussion to be heard; but if you grant that he is the truly real, on what grounds do you sneer at him? You have both compromised the inner quality of revering the sage and forgotten the ritual propriety that lacks pretension. This taking of positions is the first regret in my mind. You also said: 'Preserving the corporeal form and maintaining ancestral sacrifices is the teaching that continues goodness; shaving the appearance and changing the surname is the study that severs evil.' This implies that the son of Shangchen had the merit of continuing goodness, while taking the tonsure and shedding adornments is the intention to sever evil. Examining the name and the reality, this is my second regret. You also said: 'Below, they abandon wives and children; above, they neglect ancestral sacrifices.' The principle of ghosts and spirits is dark and hard to understand; hence when Zilu asked, Confucius did not explain. This surely must be because the ways of life and death differ, and the conditions of the spirit are hard to fathom. Could it be that the sage could not speak of it? Truly, he feared the worthy could not grasp it. The illumination of the three penetrations has its focus. You have already acknowledged that the spiritual transformation flowed eastward, yet you again set mourning and sacrifice against each other, wavering between granting and denying without certainty. This is my third regret. You also said: 'Strict methods can advance the humble and weak; lenient methods can restrain the arrogant and strong.' Reviewing this statement three times, it is inverted and unfitting. The humble and weak are easily swayed and can be advanced by lenient harmony; the arrogant and strong are hard to transform and must be restrained by bitter strictness. If you search your heart and examine affairs, is it not so? When rice chaff is in the eye, east and west change places; when partial attachments divide the mind, words and meanings become confused and mistaken. That your words miss the mark is my fourth regret. You also said: 'When suppressed, the discerning alone advance; when encouraged, the ignorant compete to rush forward.' The words of the Dao are genuine and real, revered equally as a lofty proclamation; they cover and support myriad things, nourishing all physical forms. Yet to say 'the discerning alone advance' seems like being self-serving. When the voice of the Buddha thunders once, the four immeasurables encompass all, the three vehicles follow in unison, and devas and nāgas alike submit. Yet to say 'the ignorant compete to rush forward' is also nearly slanderous. To speak of probing the profound while arbitrarily giving rise to sores and warts, uttering loose words without restraint, is my fifth regret. You also said: 'The Buddha is a method for destroying evil; the Dao is an art for promoting goodness.' I have no criticism of the method for destroying evil: when evil ceases and goodness is practiced, this is precisely why the teaching of the Dharma flourishes. But I do not yet know about the art of promoting goodness: to whom will this art apply? If one who is good is already good, what use is promoting goodness? If one who is good is not good, then neither is it promoting goodness; thus the name and meaning of 'promoting goodness' have nothing to rely on. Now, the follower of the Dao is already good; to further take it as promoting goodness makes the name and meaning an excessive addition of wealth to the rich; and not taking the dispelling of evil as the teaching is one-sided. The Great Dao encompasses all, yet you wish to restrict it: this is my sixth regret. You also said: 'For the cruel and obstinate, taking the Buddha as master is supreme; for the gentle and receptive, submitting to the Dao is consummate.' Truly, subduing the fierce and turning away the brutal is indeed the immense merit of Muni, which does not diverge from your gracious meaning. But the power of the Dao is resolute and bright, its transformative effect reaches ever farther; it completes the nature and preserves it, its kindness leaving nothing untouched; owls and venomous birds change their hearts, its majesty leaving nothing unsubdued. Yet to say it is only capable of receptivity is far too shallow and superficial. Has your mind sunk into partial attachment, failing to realize that this narrowness harms the Dao? Examining your outline, you first warn against arbitrary explanations; yet in setting forth your words and giving free rein to your arguments, you unwittingly let your emotions shift. That your distinctions of names are hard to sustain is my seventh regret. You also said: 'The eight manifestations in the Western Rong and all the scriptures are presented in both broad and brief forms; the text of the Vajracchedikā Prajñā does not exceed one thousand [characters], yet its four-line verse proclaims the Dao encompassing the ten thousand dharmas.' Coarse and subtle are both deployed; the complex and the succinct exist together. Elaborate rules and minute admonitions are broken down into ritual codes; thus the fine and the coarse arise indiscriminately. That your words contradict reality is my eighth regret. You also said: 'Observing them by their realms, the barbarians are cruel while the Chinese are gentle.' May I ask: was the torment of the roasting pillar a punishment in Kangju or Tianzhu? Was the sorrow of shed blood borne by children outside of Qi and Jin? The suffering and harm of disembowelment did not originate in the minds of the barbarians; the autumn frost bearing shame did not belong to men of the seacoast. Examining nature and disposition, Chinese and barbarians are of the same measure. Your baseless distinction of gentle and harsh is my ninth regret. You also said: 'Playing chess is better than idle wandering; lecturing and reciting excel jesting.' Examining how cultured refinement is transmitted and how scriptures and classics are preserved, it is truly through lecturing and reciting that understanding is reached and awakening achieved through consultation. Thus it is said: 'To learn without discussing—this is my worry.' Yet to compare it to jesting is far too disparaging of virtue. May I ask: where shall the fish-trap of skilful guidance be placed? Wishing to forget words before first grasping the meaning is my tenth regret. Having these ten regrets, I cannot resolve them myself. I hope, gentleman, that you will clarify them once more. Master Xie also has discrepancies; you have attacked him closely and exclusively, so what I request need not replace the master carpenter.

7.6

Doubts on the Debate on the Barbarian and the Chinese: An Inquiry Addressed to the Daoist Gu

7.7

Zhu Guangzhi

7.8

Zhu Guangzhi kowtows. I have seen the back-and-forth 'Debate on the Barbarian and the Chinese' with Attendant Xie, which elucidates and makes clear the principle of common convergence; it can be called a concise, profound, pure, and refined discussion. Yet as for indulging in the ornaments of formal caps and robes while rejecting the plainness of tonsured heads, or praising the respect of holding tablets and kneeling while insulting the reverence of the fox squat, this shackles Chinese people and cuts off foreign teachings. Though the metaphor of boats and carts is beautiful, the sentiment of fairness and forgiveness is not yet profound. While the source of ultimate convergence is smooth, the path of the fish-trap and reliance is now obstructed. If so, then awakening to the three vehicles is looked at from afar in this land, and the ford of the six pāramitās is from now on parted with forever. Opening the scriptures and relishing the principles, my sorrow is truly deep. Master Xie disparaged and dismissed the Dao of immortals while praising and illuminating the Buddhist teaching, regarding the arts of feather-transformation as unfounded and loose talk, and the proclamation of maiming the body as a text walking in truth. He merely knows his own finger as a finger, without knowing that the other finger is no different. How could this be called grasping the meaning with an open mind and harmonising in goodness? From an early age, I was steeped in the Dharma's transformation; in later years, I savoured the Daoist style. I have always considered esteeming emptiness and prizing non-being to have the same ultimate purport. When snare and net are both spread, in principle there is no one-sided choice: each follows the person who understands, resting solely where the mind finds peace. Why must dragon robes be worn while necklaces of gems cannot be donned? Since falling into poverty, I have had many affairs, and my research and study have sunk into neglect; my volumes and boxes have remained sealed for over ten years. What I learned in youth has almost entirely fallen away; my long-held aspirations have come to naught, with no steps left to gain insight. Whenever I am deeply moved alone in the deep night, I immediately rise; at dawn, forgetting sleep, I purify my mind, and my distant faith in this entanglement of suffering grows all the more earnest. If faith does not follow reason, then it becomes light, floating, and without a master, giving rise to visitors who turn to ridicule. Therefore, exhausting the output of my wild brush, I write to express my humble thoughts. I wish that you would again instruct and guide me to dispel these doubts. Guangzhi kowtows.

7.9

The treatise says: 'Holding tablets, kneeling, and bowing low is the respect of the royal domain; the fox squat and dog crouch are the reverent postures of the wild outlying regions.' I doubt this, saying: When states differ and customs are separated, outward forms are naturally hard to homogenize. As for each finding what gives them peace, this has never been debated since antiquity. The deportment of the royal domain is as you have stated; but will the designations of fox and dog not cause harm alone?

7.10

The treatise says: "If you claim that because their ultimate aim is the same, their methods can be interchanged, can a carriage cross a river, or a boat travel on land? It is surely impossible." The objection says: Dharma is that by which emotions are regulated; emotions are not the Dharma. Since the Dharma has no fixed form, it arises because emotions are not uniform. When non-uniform emotions head in different directions, the firm and the yielding run alongside, and the Chinese and the barbarian must be alike. Therefore, the vast, boundless river has no relevance here; how could the flat plains and distant lands be taken from there? Why would it be unacceptable to employ both boat and carriage?

7.11

The treatise says: "[The Buddhists] are neither entirely the same nor entirely different: below, they abandon wives and children; above, they discard the ancestral sacrifices." The objection says: As for discarding sacrifices above and failing to abandon [attachments] below, this is assimilating difference into sameness on one's own part; it is not the fault of what is the same. Could one, seeing that a brindled ox is not fit for the ancestral temple, forever cast it aside from being an animal for the sacrificial pen?

7.12

The treatise says: "Matters of desires are all extended through ritual, yet the canon of filial reverence alone is bent by the Dharma to violate virtue and transgress against obedience, without anyone ever noticing it." The objection says: If one violates virtue and transgresses against obedience, there is nowhere that is acceptable; but compassion, reverence, benevolence, and harmony reach everywhere without impediment. Therefore, reducing food to practice the Dao is not the lodging of an omen of misfortune; wearing a ceremonial cap and eating the bread of idleness is not the method for nurturing correctness. The expectations of bending and extending can be severed right here.

7.13

The treatise says: "What is noble in principle is the Dao; what is base in affairs is the secular. Now, in abandoning the Chinese to emulate the barbarian, what principle can be adopted? If it is for their Dao, the Dao indeed coincides; if it is for their customs, the customs are heaven-wide apart." The objection says: The supreme Dao is open and all-pervading, and so it is honored without being enfeoffed; the secular is nowhere free from obstruction, and so it is base without being demoted. The base cannot be without encumbrances; the honored are naturally complete in Heaven. Since the realm of being complete in Heaven coincides, the domain of secular encumbrances is also equal. When the Dao coincides and the encumbrances are equal, who is superior and who is inferior? Therefore, both are the transformative work of sages, simply illuminating what is deluded. When delusion is exhausted and understanding arises, self and other are naturally forgotten. Why bother dithering over abandoning and emulating, or fretting between the Chinese and the barbarian?

7.14

The treatise says: "The teaching of non-arising is lax; the transformation of non-dying is pressing. The pressing teaching can advance the humble and weak; the lax teaching can restrain the boastful and strong." The objection says: Non-arising is just non-dying, and non-dying is just non-arising. When their names are opposite but their reality is identical, how can there be a distinction between lax and pressing? If because their traces have gradations, their superiority and inferiority are far apart, then one ought to use the pressing to curb the strong and the lax to guide the weak. Thus Confucius said: 'Qiu holds back, therefore I urged him forward; You has energy for two men, therefore I held him back.' Is not the method of conveying instruction just like this?

7.15

The treatise says: "The Buddhist teaching is ornate and broad; the Daoist teaching is plain and refined. The refined is not what coarse people can believe; the broad is not what refined people are capable of." The objection says: Now, broad learning and a strong memory necessarily depend on illuminating far and wide; earnest cultivation of good deeds necessarily enters into subtlety through principle. When illumination is bright, principle is entirely refined; when principle is refined, illumination is fully realized. Thus, the refined and the broad have the same efficacy and mutually serve each other. The broad is like the refined—how could coarse people believe it? The refined is like the broad—how could it be lacking only in the all-pervading?

7.16

The treatise says: "The Buddha's words are ornate and enticing; the Dao's words are substantial and analytical. Through analysis, the discerning alone advance; through enticement, the ignorant vie to go forward." The objection says: If ornateness does not block principle, it is molded by penetrating insight; if substance does not reach emptiness, it is engaged through boring and seeking. Does that which molds in orderly succession assist the ignorant, or does it await the discerning? If it assists the ignorant, the discerning do not advance alone; if it must await the discerning, the ignorant will not manage to go forward. If both the discerning and the ignorant benefit, what need is there to suppress or entice? Subtle matters are difficult to set forth, and what is appropriate should be debated further.

7.17

The treatise says: "The Buddhist scriptures are voluminous and manifest; the Daoist scriptures are concise and obscure. Being obscure, the wondrous gate is difficult to see; being manifest, the correct path is easy to follow. Following the correct, the return journey is not lost; seeing the wondrous, the hundred deliberations all succeed." The objection says: If it is concise, it is easy to follow—how can it be difficult to see? If it is voluminous, it is difficult to arrange—how could it be easy to follow? Following the correct, the return journey is not lost, and one can ascend to the utmost of the Dao. Though not obscure and concise, it is naturally a mysterious creation; why resort to obscure methods to replace this easily understood path?

7.18

The treatise says: "If one is cruel, stubborn, and perverse, taking the Buddha as teacher is superior; if one is compassionate, gentle, and receptive, practicing the Dao is supreme." The objection says: Wrong views and crooked paths are not retained in the Dharma; loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity are what are gradually recorded. Through joy, one can receive; through equanimity, one must also be empty. The meaning of empty receptivity is profoundly reunited here; one wonders what Dharma the cruel and perverse person relies upon instead. If you claim that what is received is different, that turns out to be marking the boat [to find the sword]—how could there be any correspondence?

7.19

The treatise says: "The Buddha is the method for destroying evil; the Dao is the technique for promoting good. Moreover, with the nature of the Central Chinese, one must not emulate the ways of the Western barbarians." The objection says: The talk of promoting good is admirable; the words 'do not emulate' are contemptuous. My mind is not at ease with this. May I ask: regarding the nature of the Central Chinese and the people of the Western barbarians, is the Chinese nature purely good and the barbarians' root evil? If their root were made evil, then in principle it could be destroyed; if they were made purely good, then in principle it could be promoted. Thus we know that where there is evil that can be destroyed, one is not yet apart from the good; where there is good that can be promoted, one is not yet free from evil. Thus, good and evil mingle together, differing from one another in depth. Therefore, Rāhula's benevolence and compassion did not borrow the light of the East; the violence and cruelty of Jie and Robber Zhi—did they concentrate the qi of the West? Why alone extol the Chinese customs and despise the barbarian ways? If this good differs from that good, and that evil differs from this evil, then good and evil are originally at odds—how could they achieve the same aim?

7.20

The treatise says: "The squatting etiquette of the barbarians and their clever debates are like the buzzing of insects and the chattering of birds—how are they worth narrating and emulating?" The objection says: Ritual expresses reverence; music induces harmony. Though reverence is expressed through ritual, ritual is not reverence; though harmony is induced by music, music is not harmony. Thus, when the ruler is secure and the people compliant, jades and silks remain in their baskets; when customs are pure and the realm is at peace, bells and drums cease their sound. Moreover, the operation of bells and silks does not stand equal with heaven and earth; they are merely adopted out of necessity as temporary expedients to rescue the distressed. Thus, where Dao and righteousness reside, they do not depend on external appearances; if one attains their return, one does not mind difference or sameness. Now, as for crouching like a fox and squatting like a dog, who can say this is not reverence? When reverence expresses the heart, who can say this is not ritual? Ritual and reverence subtly tally, just as if one were merely casting aside sentient beings. Humans mark what they value; value does not lie in words; words are preserved to value principle. Therefore, the qilin and phoenix cherish benevolence and are honored in sacred texts; the ape can speak, but receives ridicule in the ritual texts. I do not know, in the treatise's discourse, what meaning is to be adopted! If one clings to words and damages principle, it is not what the wise rely on. If one relies on principle and forgets words, then they illuminate the essential principle by dismantling characteristics. Therefore, Old Li's 'constant' is not what names or desires can reach; Vimalakīrti's silence is not what clever rhetoric can pursue. Examining their words, both self and other are dismissed; tracing their aims, Laozi and the Buddha are boundless. When both are dismissed, then mutual moistening can be abandoned; when there is boundlessness, one does not fail what is lofty and noble. Why look from afar and, seeing that the name 'Prajñā' is not 'wisdom', immediately belittle and humiliate it, comparing it to insects and birds? Pondering this for days, it has not satisfied my humble thoughts. Moreover, regional customs have different sounds; are they restricted only to the Hu and the Chinese? Even nearby in the Central States, Qi and Lu were not the same. Beginning and ending have also been recorded differently through ancient and modern times; because they did not impede pointing to the meaning, they were transmitted and practiced through generations. If they were wrong, then this [Chinese practice] would not yet be right; if this is right, then that is not alone wrong. Since we cannot yet affirm each other, we are equal in mutual negation. I imagine that when these Han sounds flow into their country, they too suffer the blame of buzzing insects and the ridicule of chattering birds; their clever debates can also be known. By illuminating this with unity, the stalk and the pillar can be made equal; if both stingy attachments are removed, is that not broad and penetrating? The depths of meaning are subtle and profound, not something I should take part in; truly desiring to investigate the directions of the mysterious master, I have merely set forth my thoughts once. Leaning forward in distant anticipation, I eagerly await your subsequent judgment.

7.21

Refutation of Daoist Master Gu's Treatise on the Barbarians and the Chinese

7.22

By Huitong of Zhicheng

7.23

During a lull in late summer, free of affairs and watching the fleeting light, I opened Master Gu's treatise, and it shone as though dispelling blindness. I saw the origins of his differentiation between identity and difference, and his clarification of the tendencies toward right and wrong. His rhetoric is rich, his meaning clear, his literary embellishments splendid, and his sentiments profound. Whenever I studied and read it, I forgot fatigue, finding comfort as if holding the daylily; it is truly what one calls a grand literary work written with heartfelt sentiment by a gentleman! Yet when examining what it aims at, doubts and laughter are truly abundant. It is like a blind person gathering pearls who pockets red beans and thinks he has obtained treasures, or a deaf guest listening to music who hears a donkey braying and delightedly takes it as the music of an attuned friend. This discussion of barbarians and Chinese by you, sir—believing that you have grasped the truth—departs so very far from it! Seeing your treatise citing Daoist scriptures, it becomes all the more obscure. In the past, the text composed by Laozi was only five thousand words; the rest are mingled, confused, licentious, and errant teachings. Yet you separately speak of 'Daoist scriptures'—from where did they emerge? Since they were not initiated by Laozi, how could they be genuine scriptures? I hope you will reflect thrice more, so that you may perhaps dispel your delusions. The treatise says: 'If Confucius and Laozi are not the Buddha, who could be equal to it? The Dao is indeed the Buddha; the Buddha is indeed the Dao.' In making this statement, you are almost lost at the ford. Therefore a scripture says: 'Mahākāśyapa is called Laozi over there; the pure and radiant youth is named Zhongni over there.' From this we know that Laozi was not the Buddha; that is also obvious. It is truly because you, sir, have not broadened your vision of truth that you have become stubborn. Thus Laozi and Zhongni were dispatched by the Buddha; moreover, they proclaimed virtue and showed beings misfortune and fortune, and thereafter the Buddha's teachings spread. However, the Great Dao is difficult to follow, while minor accomplishments are easy to practice; this has been a cause of lamentation since antiquity, not merely something bemoaned today. Laozi composed a text of five thousand words, yet those who make far-fetched interpretations are numerous: some narrate delusions to turn people's minds, while others transmit licentiousness and cruelty to agitate people's natures. Therefore, those who do good are few, and those tainted by evil are many. I say that the attire of the gentry, the bows of humble bending, and the rituals of burial and mourning—these all belong to the time when the Great Dao fell into decay. This is why benevolence and righteousness arose, and filial piety and respect emerged. When clever desires just began to arise, emotional pretense multiplied day by day; the sages therefore restrained them with ritual teachings and regulated them with laws and standards. Therefore, ritual is the thinning of loyalty and good faith, and the beginning of disorder. Once non-action is lost and intentional action is esteemed, how could it be sufficient? As for the appearance of shaved hair, the reverence of kneeling like a fox, and the custom of casting oneself outwards—I say that magnificent adornment is not worth coveting, and wealth cannot be guarded; this has indeed been verified. Laozi said that the five colors cause people's eyes to go blind, and excessive accumulation leads to great loss later. Therefore, one cuts hair, wears dark robes, reduces wealth, and renounces the world—this is the utmost of concession. Thus Taibo was considered of supreme virtue, and Confucius praised him; this is of the same kind. Kneeling in reverence originated in Tianzhu, and the four quarters followed it. Tianzhu is the center of heaven and earth, the place from which the Buddha's teachings emerged. This is the solemnity of the Great Dharma, the strict regularity of the supreme teaching. When you, sir, compare it to kneeling like a fox, how petty is your reasoning! Thus, when evil spirits assist wickedness and formidable Māras destroy the right—that applies to you! It is like holding a ladle wishing to reduce the rivers and seas, or turning one's palm sideways to shade the sun and moon: one cannot diminish the springs of the rivers and seas, nor conceal the brightness of the sun and moon. When it comes to high antiquity, human nature was still pure; without relying on ritual teachings, things could be harmonized, and without applying punishments, order was maintained naturally. When someone died, they were buried in the open wilds, without mounding a grave or planting trees, with no set mourning period; when grief arrived, they simply wept. This was the pure wind of high antiquity, truly worthy of emulation. If you wish to condemn this, what justification do you take? Furthermore, you compared the two teachings of Daoism and Buddhism to a boat and a cart. Anyone with understanding who hears this cannot but chuckle with a smile. I say that the Way of Heaven does not speak, and the sage is without a personal mind. Therefore, the Dao is magnified by man; it is not the Dao that magnifies man. Thus the spiritual illumination of the sage leaves nothing unpenetrated; how could his wise radiance fail to be comprehensive, such that you say he focuses on one thing and cannot provide for both? It is like the spiritual sunlight appearing at dawn, shining upon things in accordance with their nature, or the seasonal wind blowing in the evening, giving rise to sounds according to shapes. Therefore, when shapes differ, sounds are distinct; when things differ, the illumination is varied. The sun does not vary its illumination because of differing things, nor does the wind change its sounds because of distinct shapes. One should know that the sun is one and the wind is one; it is merely that those who receive them are not the same. When you, sir, make the analogy of the boat and cart, how can the meaning be acceptable? The Great Teaching is without bias, and supreme virtue is impartial. Transforming living beings with a shared purport, they lead people to arrive at the same destination. Among the Rong and Di barbarians, there is an equal resonance; residing among the Hu and Han, there is a common voice. How could the sage divide the earth, vary the teaching, separate realms, and differentiate customs? How could there be 'barbarian'? How could there be 'Chinese'? In the past, when Gongming Yi played the tune of 'Qingjiao' for a cow, the cow continued to graze as before; it was not that the cow did not hear it, but that it did not suit its ears. When he changed to the sounds of mosquitoes, horseflies, and a lonely calf, the cow immediately twitched its ears, wagged its tail, and stepped around to listen. Now what you, sir, have heard is merely the sound of mosquitoes and horseflies. Where does the substance of this distinction between barbarian and Chinese lie? Furthermore, you say: 'Below, they abandon wives and children; above, they abolish ancestral sacrifices. Desirable worldly things are all expanded through ritual, yet the canons of filial piety and respect are bent by this law alone.' The Way and the secular have the distinction of darkness and light; the internal and external have the difference of speech and silence. As for the ancestral temple feasts and sacrifices, and the seasonal offerings to imperial ancestors, the perfection of filial piety and respect in the secular world cannot surpass them. But if one burns fragrant incense on the evening terrace, chants the Dharma in the morning hall, and bows, repents, prays, and petitions without ceasing—extending upward to relatives across kalpas, and extending downward to all living beings—such vastness of filial affection is not something the foolish and blind can fathom. The state relies on the people as its foundation; the ruler depends on the people to be established. That the state is peaceful is due to the people's effort; inferring from the Tathāgata's discourse, it seems to be an empty setup. Furthermore, you say: 'Like carving the boat, śramaṇas; like guarding the tree stump, Daoists—vainly disputing greatness and pettiness, mutually censuring one another.' Opening and caressing your flowery treatise, you deeply resolve the stalemates of texts; yet when seeking the truth through your words, to what can they properly return? The licentious and erratic ways of non-Buddhists have accumulated for years and decades; sinking in darkness without moving, drowned in delusion, how could they return? Wandering through villages and hamlets, roving across settlements, they openly use sacred arts while privately practicing licentiousness. How could attaining the Way be like this? It is shameful! In the past, a man of Qi who loved hunting was impoverished; chasing large deer all year round, he did not catch a single beast. Thereupon he withdrew and returned to plowing. Now, sir, if you have wisdom, returning to plowing would be the right plan! Furthermore, you say: 'Once the Great Dao was hidden, minor accomplishments arose one after another; the eloquent and the stammering topple each other, but who can correct it?' The correct path is difficult to destroy, while perverse principles are easy to retreat. It is like a light feather on high that flies when it meets the wind, or small stones in a valley that tumble when encountering a stream. Only Mount Tai is not moved by violent winds; only a massive rock is not swept away by swift currents. Therefore, plums and prunes lose their leaves when encountering frost, while the pines and cypresses do not wither in the cold of the year—this is indeed true. When licentious and demonic arts encounter the upright, they are instantly thwarted. You take yourself as the Great Dao, but who is it that represents minor accomplishments? I wish you would reflect further and only then engage in debate. When Yan Hui saw Dongye Bi driving, he predicted he would fail; when Zigong observed the customs of Zhu and Lu, he ascertained they would perish. Why are you lacking in knowledge to such an extreme extent? Therefore, I mark the distinction between foolishness and wisdom, and compose the difference between the worthy and the vulgar, briefly raising one corner to show you, hoping you can infer the other three. Furthermore, you say: 'Nirvāṇa and transcendent transformation are each an art. The Buddha is called Right and True; the Dao is called Right and One. The One returns to non-death; the True joins with non-arising. The teaching of non-arising is lax; the teaching of non-death is pressing.' This is your clever eloquence and ability to speak; a humble man like me has nothing to surpass it. However, the discourse on Nirvāṇa and extinction is prominent in the orthodox scriptures; as for the claim of transcendent transformation and entering the Dao, to what principle could it adhere? Laozi said: 'Valuing life too heavily inevitably leads to the realm of death.' He also said: 'The reason heaven and earth can endure and last long is that they do not live for themselves.' He who forgets life preserves life; he who clings to life inevitably dies. When the path of death is about to arrive, you call it 'pressing'—is that not exceedingly 'pressing'? The proverb says: 'Pointing south and calling it north, one claims not to be deluded; pointing west and calling it east, one claims not to be blind.' You take inevitable death as imminent life; how can you be so perverse? Therefore Master Qian cut off grain to cultivate the art of transcendence. I have heard that Laozi had warnings about the five flavors, but no instructions on abstaining from grain. Thus cicadas and moths do not eat—which gentleman values them? Frogs and pythons hide in burrows—why should the sage esteem them? Moreover, since antiquity, there has been no sage or worthy who did not return to an end. You, sir, alone speak of not dying—how reckless! Thus Shun had his tomb at Cangwu, Yu had his tumulus at Kuaiji, the Duke of Zhou had the chapter on reburial, Zhongni had the dream between the two pillars, Zeng Shen had his words about uncovering his feet, and Yan Hui had the lamentation over his misfortune. Have you not heard of these? How could they be mistaken? In the past, someone who had never seen a qilin asked someone who had seen one: 'What is a lin like?' The answer was: 'A lin is like a lin.' The questioner said: 'If I had already seen a lin, I would not ask; yet you say a lin is like a lin—why?' The respondent replied: 'A lin has the body of a water deer, the tail of an ox, the hooves of a deer, and the back of a horse.' The questioner then understood clearly. Now, sir, do you wish to see the lin, or will you tell people you have not seen it? Furthermore, you say: 'Daoist scriptures are simple and obscure; being obscure, the wondrous gate is difficult to see.' I say that the teaching of Laozi is directed at the five thousand words; beyond this, they are no longer genuine scriptures. As Daoist texts are repeatedly displayed, doubts and oddities become deeper: most of them rely falsely on captivating words and make empty boasts of beautiful phrases. It is like the man of Zhou who held a rat to trade for uncut jade, and the gentleman of Zheng saw it and withdrew—this is what applies here. Examining this statement, how can it ever be found acceptable? Furthermore, you say: 'For the cruel and obstinate, taking the Buddha as teacher is superior; for the compassionate, gentle, empty, and receptive, submitting to the Dao is easier.' Therefore Laozi said: 'The violent and forceful do not die a natural death; I shall take this as the father of my teachings.' Hence, the reason people expound and practice texts of precepts and make literary teachings evident is for the sake of the foolish and blind, not for the sake of the worthy and wise. Those who violate them will certainly meet misfortune; those who follow them will certainly obtain good fortune. Those who are violent and obstinate belong to the category of the lowest fools; when the Great Teaching exercises compassion and skill-in-means for their sake, could it be empty study? As for 'compassionate, gentle, empty, and receptive,' I say these should not be empty talk. Nowadays, those who study the Dao act contrary to this: they display the Huangshu as genuine scriptures, and wear purple talismans as wondrous arts. Men and women make no distinctions, and the inner chambers are thrown into chaos. Some take elixirs to pray for longevity; some practice licentious deceit to cure illnesses. Where can your talk of 'compassionate and gentle' find any basis? Furthermore, the traces of the Dao are secret and subtle, and its advantageous function lies within oneself. Therefore Laozi said: 'The reason I have great calamity is that I have a body; when I have no body, what calamity do I have?' Laozi took the body as a great calamity, yet you, sir, take the physical form as something to be preserved for long—how abundant is your departure from the truth! One puts one's body behind and the body comes first; one detaches from one's body and the body is preserved. You merely say it lies within oneself, but I do not know on what basis you argue this talk. Furthermore, you say: 'Devious eloquence each emerges from its respective custom; their mutual understanding is like the buzzing of insects and the squawking of birds—how could it be worth recounting or imitating?' I say that one who feeds on pungency does not know that pungency is pungent, and has no longing for sweetness and fragrance; one who delights in foul odors does not perceive that foulness is foul, and does not indulge in pepper and orchid. Just like you, sir, drowning in your fondness for licentiousness and falsity, how could you have any thought for the Great Dharma? The sagely teaching penetrates wondrously, and the Supreme Dao is deep and broad: it can neither be called existent, nor can it be called non-existent; it is free of notions of other and self, and dissolves disputes over identity and difference. Words are like archery: when the notch has left the bowstring, regret cannot catch up to it. Will you, sir, be prudent in your speech? When you speak of 'the buzzing of insects and the squawking of birds,' on what principle does it rely? Recently, Sun Tai was wild and reckless, openly practicing the lack of Dao; with demonic licentiousness he destroyed ritual, and with cruel rebelliousness he abolished righteousness. Worthy gentlemen shared the same aspiration, while foolish men abandoned falsity and turned their minds. Treacherous cohorts filled the rooms, and evil companions crowded the gates; villages and hamlets suffered piercing grief, and the roads and paths bore complaints of hardship. The Way of Heaven brings misfortune to the full and the spirits bless the humble; and thereafter he brought about his own ruin and demise.

7.24

Treatise on Barbarians and Chinese: Refuting Daoist Master Gu's 'Treatise on Barbarians and Chinese'

7.25

By the Śramaṇa Sengmin of Guangling

7.26

Formerly, Vimalakīrti inwardly ascended the sublime path and his achievements shone beyond worldly matters. He concealed himself among humans like a dragon, while his aspirations soared in the deep ocean; his spirit sprinkled the ten directions and his principles rectified all under Heaven. Therefore, his traces descended upon the western land to harmonize with mysterious melodies. If one speaks of his spiritual transformations, he was able to turn heaven and earth upside down and contract or prolong [kalpas] at will. If one speaks of his true illumination, he forgot deliberate thoughts, quietly congealed in profundity, and surpassed words. Such a man may truly be called a lay devotee (upāsaka). I have not yet seen your intent in calling yourself a lay devotee. Now, your mountain of the seven arrogances has not yet collapsed; your valley of the five desires has not yet been filled; your sun of wisdom has not yet shone; your clouds of ignorance have not yet cleared; your wind of perpetual darkness has not yet subsided; and your bewilderment from wandering in the night has not yet turned back. Since your understanding remains that of the common sort, how can you arrogate the title of lay devotee in your mountain hermitage? From afar I have taken measure of your capacity, and I know you are not yet qualified to occupy this position. Although this is a modest title in the Great Dharma, it is still not easily assumed. Inspecting the intent of your Essay on Barbarians and Chinese (Yixia lun), I fully illuminate the mind that has come forth. This poor monk walks and studies at the great altar and rarely pays attention to such things, yet what is discussed here possesses neither the beauty of fine writing nor the efficacy of discerning the profound; its illumination lacks an inch of radiance and its moisture lacks the wetness of dew. Lacking in ten thousand ways, what principle does it contain? Furthermore, inwardly holding bewildered thoughts and harboring dark designs in your mind, you frivolously wield brush and ink to divine the sage's intent from below. At times you conflate Daoism and Buddhism as identical, at times you treat depth and shallowness as different, at times you speak of the superiority and inferiority of spiritual lands, and at times you disparage the purity, correctness, emptiness, and reality [of teachings]. Truly, when bitter plums bear dense fruit, their branches break; when Luan Da made false proclamations, he was executed. These are all established precedents from past generations and profound mirrors for later worthy men. Now I will show you that the names and principles of Daoism and Buddhism are different. The Buddha is a distinct designation for the orthodox spirit; the Dao is a general name for the hundred paths. Laozi is a philosopher of one region; the Buddha presides over the ancestor of the ten thousand spirits. The Dao values transcendents; the Buddha employs the extinction of outflows as perfection. The way of transcendents has a lifespan of a thousand years; the extinction of outflows possesses an inexhaustible spirit. Because of the inexhaustible spirit, it is wonderfully supreme and profound; because of the thousand-year lifespan, they ride dragons and drive the clouds. Driving the clouds and riding dragons is the path of birth and death; the profound spirit is constant joy and eternal purity. Being such, he was able to correspond with the revolving celestial jade, descending in bodily traces upon the royal city, leaving behind the towering palaces in the dark distance; abandoning the heavy carriages altogether, he renounced those ten thousand states and vowed to transcend the three empties. Flying like a dragon to the splendid halls, he prepared his chariot for the place of awakening. Thereupon, he first proclaimed it in the Deer Park, next gathered them in the heavenly palaces, in the middle disseminated it on the Vulture Peak, and at the end fanned [the flames of teachings] by the Hiraṇyavatī. Therefore, his immense light shone from afar and eclipsed the radiance of the white sun. Flowery carriages with four canopies and the Brahmā chariot descended from heaven; the nine heavens sang together and the host of transcendents awakened to the mechanism [of truth]. None who ventured to partake of the conditions failed to gather like clouds and take refuge. Only with the kings of Zhou, as peripheral hegemons, did the intention toward the Way not arise. For this reason, the Tathāgata sent Samantabhadra to exercise awe-inspiring authority along the western paths, while three worthies together guided the eastern capital. Therefore the scripture says: 'The Great Being Kāśyapa was the person of Laozi.' Thus with deceptive teachings of five thousand words he assisted and guided the Zhou generation. When the conditions for conversion were exhausted, he returned to Tianzhu. Hence there was the distant departure westward through the pass. Chinese people subsequently fabricated the Scripture of Converting the Barbarians (Huahu jing), leading those of scarce vision to chant its embellishments. Without examining the profound purport, how could you rashly proclaim that Laozi and the Buddha are one? When people hear that the Great Sage manifested as the ancestor of the Ruist forest, they immediately make Zhuangzi, Confucius, the Duke of Zhou, and Laozi out to be all Buddhas. If that were so, could you also be Laozi? Then the host of beings in the five destinies would all be Buddhas! What kind of talk is this? One may truly say that Kuafu chasing the sun will surely die of thirst. In your Essay on Barbarians and Chinese, you say: 'In the east there is the ugliness of the Li and Ji; in the west there is the sort of the Qiang and Rong; in the north there are disheveled hair and loose locks; in the south there are cut hair and tattooed bodies. The Ji and Confucius applied propriety in the center, and therefore there is the distinction between barbarians and Chinese.' As for the barbarians and the Chinese: the east terminates at the empty boundary; the west exhausts the obscure regions; the north surpasses the outer sea; and the south reaches the extreme of the void realm. The Tathāgata fanned his conversion in the Middle Land; therefore there is the difference between barbarians and Chinese. You reprove [people] for using the nature of the Central Huaxia to emulate the methods of the Western Rong; you have merely emerged from the depths of a well and have not yet beheld the expanse of the rivers and lakes. As the scripture states: 'The Buddha presides over the center of heaven and earth and purely guides the ten directions.' Hence we know that the land of Tianzhu is the Middle Kingdom. The Duke of Zhou and Confucius had elegant and orthodox institutions; the Tathāgata has regulations that transcend the mundane. Because of the elegant and orthodox institutions, they differ from the four barbarian tribes; because of the regulations transcending the mundane, he is not the same as the Duke of Zhou and Confucius. Because their institutions reached the four barbarians, the eight directions defer to their virtue; because his regulations surpassed the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, Laozi returned to the west. Because Laozi returned to the west, he gave birth to those hosts of Rong; because the four barbarian tribes deferred to virtue, their confusion increased all the more. Orthodox propriety cannot be altered; the true Dharma cannot be displaced. Because orthodox propriety cannot be altered, Taibo adjusted his garments in Wu and Yue; because the true Dharma cannot be displaced, the Buddhist teachings flowed east without change. Because he adjusted his garments, he caused a naked land to enjoy clothes; because the Dharma has no change, it caused Han worthies to shave their hair. Enjoying clothes made their forms approximate the Central Huaxia; shaving their hair made them look up and align with the Western wind. Forms approximating the Central Huaxia caused the mountains to hide [their wildness] and arrogance to vanish; distantly aligning with the Western wind caused those who observed them closely to all have faith. If you claim that sage tracks are not fixed and should vary according to the region, Taibo could just as well have walked naked east of the river, and you today could also go without wearing clothes! Therefore, although regions and types differ, the sage Dharma does not vary. When you ask which principle should be adopted, it refers to adopting the correct Dao. Thereupon, the Dao designates the Dongxuan as orthodox, while the Buddha takes emptiness of emptiness as the principal doctrine. Laozi takes the Great Void as the profound, while the Buddha is abyssal right within phenomena. Laozi transforms through natural spontaneity, while the Buddha arises through the confluence of conditions. The Dao takes talismans and registers as the wondrous, while the Buddha takes lecturing and guiding as the quintessential. Taking the Great Void as the profound means that within being there is no non-being; being abyssal right within phenomena means that in touching things all is profound. Transforming through natural spontaneity means that the night chamber cannot be ascended; arising through the confluence of conditions means that the exalted position can be mounted. Taking talismans and registers as the wondrous means the Dao has no spiritual deity; taking lecturing and guiding as the quintessential means scrutinizing the sage's mind. Because within being there is no non-being, the Dao is not great; because in touching things all is profound, the sage path is far and vast. Because the night chamber cannot be ascended, endless talk is in vain; because the exalted position can be mounted, wise men sacrifice their lives. Because the Dao has no spiritual deity, what is sought by bowing the face? Because lecturing and guiding scrutinize the sage's mind, śramaṇas rise like clouds. Thus one knows that Daoist scriptures are few and shallow, while Buddhist scriptures are broad and deep; Daoist scriptures are meager and defiled, while Buddhist scriptures are vast and pure; Daoist scriptures are turbid and have outflows, while Buddhist scriptures are plain and chaste; Daoist scriptures are near and dark, while Buddhist scriptures are distant and bright. When you dyed your robes and altered your plain attire, you truly joined this lofty wind. Crowning the head with a yellow turban is the mark of the low and base; covering the head with animal hide is truly not the Chinese style; peddling talismans and selling registers is the perverse custom of the realm; slapping the cheeks and clicking the teeth is the utmost of inverted confusion; binding the hands behind the back and lying prone on the ground is the appearance of hell; talismans and registers for blending qi are the extremity of deceit and treachery. Thus light and dark have been displayed, and true and false have been manifested. You ought to lead your companions to turn around and tread the pure avenue. This poor monk inwardly reflects on noble virtue and together we shall revere the sage truth—how could there be any malice? I expect you will not oppose it, and will assent to this fine instruction.

First 26 of 28 passages. Read on

Linked texts (1)

弘明集 — 僧祐, Classical Chinese