廣弘明集 10.55

10.55

Your servant Guang further replies: I humbly consider that mountains conceal both orchids and mugwort, and the oceans harbor both dragons and serpents; good and evil mingle in the current, and the worthy and the foolish dwell together. If dragons and serpents are favored alike, there is no distinguishing right from wrong; if orchids and mugwort are cut down together, who can make clear the gains and losses? If you surely preserve those with virtue and screen out the unworthy, first, it will enrich the dynastic tradition; second, it will not confound the various classes; third, Heaven will not reproach you for turning against the good; and fourth, the virtue of the people will return to fullness. Our Great Zhou has met the turn of a thousand years and assumed the throne of ten thousand foundations; expounding rites and elucidating music, it harmonizes earth and levels heaven; its martial power is arrayed, its civil virtue is illustrious, upholding the true and bringing clarity to the secular. Worthy monks are vessels of the state, not easily overcome even by the forces of the Yao family; when the holy assembly gathers, how could it be compared only to the campaign against Kucha? Some engage with the outside world through compassion, while inwardly luminous with intelligence and eloquence, revealing the Mahāyāna as a raft for the common folk. Others tuck their wings in the forest of dhyāna, or swim like fish in the waters of samādhi, steadfastly guarding the floating buoy and resolutely upholding the armor of forbearance. Yet others change their form and shirk their duties, merely pretending to be different from ordinary folk, their wanton licentiousness knowing no bounds, returning to the level of the foolish vulgar. Yuansong's request for screening was, in a sense, reasonable. The supreme operation of heaven and earth has its times of movement and rest; the waxing and waning of the sun and moon still have their lengths. Today, the study of Zhuangzi and Laozi is rarely met with among men; if the entire realm were made to practice it, those who transgress the rules would certainly be punished. How do we know this? We see that when contemporary people accept and practice Confucian teachings, striving to restrain themselves and submit to ritual, they violate them in many matters. The Rites say: 'When the meat is dried, do not eat it'—yet have you ever seen someone given meat who asked for vegetables instead? 'When the cup is full, do not drink'—yet have you ever seen a brimming goblet that was not urged upon someone? 'The limit of ritual in drinking is not to exceed three cups'—yet have you ever seen someone drink deeply without getting drunk? 'The Son of Heaven does not completely surround the hunt; the feudal lords do not capture the whole herd; the common people do not take fawns or eggs.' Since my youth I have been dyed by the gate of the mysterious, and am not versed in the matters of surrounding hunts; yet looking around, I see everywhere commoners taking fawns and eggs. Why, then, are those who do not accord with ritual not made to discard their Confucian robes? Transformation is brought about by the permeation of the Way; governance is perfected through ritual. Honor and disgrace are shown to gentlemen; punishments and penalties are used to regulate petty men. It is like the way of weeding a field: the grain and the tares must be distinguished; or pruning mulberries and lopping trees: how could one strip them entirely bare?