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集古今佛道論衡 1

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Preface to the Collected Debates between Buddhism and Daoism, Past and Present (A true record compiled in the first year of the Longshuo era of the Tang dynasty at Ximing Temple in the capital).

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Now, the unsurpassable awakening of the Buddha rises far beyond all cages and enclosures, supremely transcendent above the trailokya, and cutting off the four floods, he is called a sage. Therefore, wherever the bounds of his teaching reach, the realms of the great chiliocosm are brought under its sway; wherever his vocal teaching extends, the eight classes of beings are bathed and moistened in the Dao. Thus the adamantine throne stands firm at the center of the continent of Jambudvīpa, and the Utmost Awakened One seated upon it disseminated the fine methods of the eminent sage. Thereupon gods and humans received the Dao, and dragons and spirits turned their hearts toward him; drinking deeply of the medicine that knows no marks, they dispersed and dissolved the afflictions of avidyā. Yet what a sage initiates must depend on the times; when there were perverse and inverted men, he accommodated them so as to guide and transform them. In Tianzhu, the six principles flourished; in Shenzhou, the two chapters were esteemed. Consequently, Confucianism and Daoism vied to take precedence, and the true and the counterfeit were constantly contested. Unless one enters into realization and ascends to holy stages, by what means could one discriminate between these divergent paths? Thus the ninety-six heterodox paths competed to embellish their superficial words, and the sixty-two false views each presented their reputed principles. Though differing according to conditions, in general outline they came down to this: none failed to take the thoughtless realm as nirvāṇa, or to point to Brahmā as the source of life. Therefore, the twenty-five principles opened broad avenues for speculative calculation, and the six heterodox masters established the real sovereign master of the spiritual self (ātman). They boldly set up teachings for myriad eons, bringing the dust-bound masses under their control, and the nine regions revered them. When we examine their arts, they treat life lightly to merge with its source; when we discuss their practices, they remain obstinately attached to advance their beliefs. Thus the four Vedas carry speculative principles to the ultimate extreme of the dark primordial; the two classes of gods seek the origin of life back to the start of the eon. With their subjective speculations on the arcane and remote, they blinded and deceived living beings. Consequently, some cast themselves into waters or threw themselves from cliffs, sat in extreme heat or lay on thorns; inhaling the wind and dew, they claimed to be immortals; tracing back their physical forms, they called themselves sages. Obstinately maintaining their errors in perpetual delusion, they knew nothing of turning toward awakening. The Tathāgata, pitying those dark-haired folk, descended in spiritual radiance to the Red Marsh. His body shone sixteen feet tall, its golden color striking awe into humans and gods. Proclaiming with the four analytical knowledges, his insightful understanding penetrated both the hidden and the manifest. He caused the Demon King's battle arrays—his ten armies—to be shattered by a single word; when Brahmā came to pay homage, the three wheels crushed myriad delusions. Thereupon those who plated their bellies with copper and carried braziers on their heads held their tongues and submitted in the bodhimaṇḍa; those who revered the sun and honored fire cleansed their hearts and looked up toward the path of awakening. Beside the city of Śrāvastī, he greatly blunted the spears of heterodoxy; within the Grove of the Firm, he overturned the hollow dens. His deeds having become manifest, the work of encouraging and propagating them expanded greatly. At the Jade Gate, the autumn of the true Dao was proclaimed; in Jinling, the auspicious sign of riding on expedient means appeared. Upon the Qingliang Terrace, his spiritual appearance was depicted; in the Xianjie Garden, this sacred scene was displayed. Ordaining people and founding monasteries, the benevolent breeze was first widely spread; suppressing the heterodox and promoting the true, the path was opened from this point onward. At that time, the murmuring common folk dared not raise any contrary word; only the trivial Yellow Turbans occasionally raised divergent opinions. Yet their transformation did not reach as far as Longle, nor did their names and titles ever tread the courts of the royal academies. How could they comprehend the foremost sages, or earn the praise and blame given by Ban Gu and Sima Qian? How could they stand against the Buddhist tradition, or be confused with it as equals? Why is this so? It is truly because broad knowledge is scarce, and those who maintain their beliefs are constantly deluded. Now, by taking an all-encompassing view that is plain for all to see, its principles will surely open up and dispel past confusions. Moreover, their lineages are easy to discern: Kan Ze's responses to the emperor showed that the principles are hard to bend; Sun Sheng's discourses were as decisive as cutting through the ocean. Still, when learning is not far-reaching, understanding is blocked; when perverse eloquence seems so true, how could one not harbor doubts and suspicions? Even Confucius in eastern Lu still questioned the empty and full; when the ten disciples were stationed along the Xihe River, they still had doubts about the sage. The rest of the ordinary world is hardly worth discussing. Now, since the disciples of Tianzhu have long been separated in reputation, and in Cīnasthāna the debates involving Zhang and Ge have indeed become voluminous, I have deliberated on their origins, evaluated them, and arranged them in order, pruning away the weed-like excesses and polishing them as in a mirror. Gathering them together, I have titled the work Debates between Buddhism and Daoism. It is divided into four scrolls, designated by the cyclical characters jia and yi. If there are any abridgments or revisions, readers may examine them in detail.

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By the śramaṇa of the Buddhist tradition at Ximing Temple under the Tang.

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1. Emperor Ming of the Later Han had an auspicious dream of a golden man; Mātaṅga and Dharmaratna arrived in Luoyang, and Daoist priests requested a contest.
2. In the former Wei, the ruler of Wu revered the Buddhist tradition, built pagodas and monasteries for the Buddha, and consequently inquired into the relative merits of the three teachings.
Appended: Discourse on Distinguishing the Dao by Prince Si of Chen, Cao Zhi of the Wei.
Appended: Discourse on Lao Dan Not Being a Great Worthy by Sun Sheng of the Jin.
Appended: Inquiries and Interrogations on Laozi by Sun Sheng of the Jin.
3. The rulers of the Northern Wei believed in both the Buddha and Laozi, which led to prosperity and suppression; hence the narration of its causes.
4. Emperor Xiaowu of the Song assembled the court officials to discuss how Buddhist principles could govern and bring about great peace.
5. Emperor Ming of the Wei ascended the throne and summoned monks and Daoist priests for a confrontation to set forth the precedence between Buddhism and Daoism.
6. Emperor Gaozu of the Liang initially served Huang-Lao but later took refuge and placed his faith in the Buddha, issuing an edict to abandon the worship of Laozi.
7. Emperor Wenxuan, Gaozu of the Northern Qi, issued an edict to abolish the Daoist teaching.

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1. Emperor Ming of the Later Han had an auspicious dream of a golden man; Mātaṅga and Dharmaratna arrived in Luoyang, and the Daoist priests requested a contest.

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The Han faben neizhuan says: In the third year of the Yongping era of Emperor Ming, the Emperor dreamt of a divine being with a golden body sixteen feet tall, with the light of the sun behind his neck, flying before the palace hall. He was delighted by it. The next day he asked his ministers, 'What deity is this?' There was a man of broad learning, Fu Yi, who said, 'Your servant has heard that in Tianzhu there is one who attained the Dao, called the Buddha. He flies through empty space and his body has the light of the sun; it must surely be his spirit!' Thereupon the Emperor understood. He dispatched the Gentleman of the Palace Cai Yin, the General of the Household Qin Jing, the Erudite's disciple Wang Zun, and others, eighteen men in all, to the Da Yuezhi and Central Tianzhu to copy the Sūtra of Forty-two Sections, which was stored in the fourteenth room of the Stone Chamber of the Orchid Terrace. He also built a Buddhist monastery outside the Yong Gate west of Luoyang city. On its walls were painted a thousand chariots and ten thousand cavalry encircling a pagoda three times. Furthermore, wishing to paint a standing image of Śākyamuni, he had the appearance and image of the Buddha painted on the Qingliang Terrace of the Southern Palace and above the Kaiyang City Gate. At that time he was constructing his mausoleum, named Xianjie, and also had images of the Buddha made upon it, as extensively set forth in Mouzi. At that time there were the śramaṇas Kāśyapa Mātaṅga and Dharmaratna, whose spiritual ranks and practices were hard to match, and whose intention was to open up and transform beings. They met Cai Yin's mission when it reached Tianzhu, and [Cai Yin] invited Mātaṅga to journey east. Not confining himself to regional boundaries, he accompanied them to Luoyang to instruct the inclinations of beings, taking the promotion of faith as the primary task. The Emperor asked Mātaṅga, 'When the dharmarāja appears in the world, why did his conversion not reach here?' Mātaṅga said, 'Kapilavastu is the center of the three-thousand-great-thousandfold world system with its hundred million suns and moons. All Buddhas of the three periods of time are born there. Even gods, dragons, ghosts, and spirits who have vows and practices are all born there, receive the Buddha's true teaching, and all attain awakening. Sentient beings in other places lack the conditions to move the Buddha, so the Buddha does not go there. Although the Buddha does not go there, wherever his light reaches, after five hundred years, or one thousand years, or beyond one thousand years, there are always sages who transmit the Buddha's vocal teaching and convert and guide them.' He explained the doctrine at length, and the Emperor had faith in and revered him. By the first day of the first month of the fourteenth year of the Yongping era, Daoist priests from the Five Sacred Peaks and various mountains, taking the occasion of the New Year's court assembly, said among themselves, 'The Son of Heaven has abandoned our Dao and teachings and sought the barbarian teaching from afar. Now, on the occasion of the court assembly, we may submit a memorial to oppose it.' Their memorial said, 'We, disciple Chu Shanxin and others of the Supreme Three Caverns from the monasteries of the eighteen mountains of the Five Sacred Peaks, under penalty of death, say: Your servants have heard that the supreme, formless, nameless, limitless, unsurpassable, empty, non-active, and natural Great Dao arose prior to creation. High antiquity followed it together, and through a hundred kings it remained unchanged. Now Your Majesty's virtue surpasses the August Fuxi and outshines Yao and Shun. We have learned that Your Majesty abandons the fundamental and pursues the incidental, seeking teaching from the Western Regions. What you serve is merely a barbarian deity; what it preaches has no connection to Huaxia. We pray that Your Majesty forgive our transgression and allow a trial and contest with them. Among us Daoist priests from the various mountains, many can see through all things, hear from afar, and have a comprehensive understanding of the classics. Ever since the Primordial Emperor, we have thoroughly practiced the Supreme Lord's numerous registers and the talismans and incantations of the Great Void, reaching their utmost limits. Some can command ghosts and spirits; some can swallow the sunset clouds and inhale qi; some can enter fire without being burned; some can walk on water without drowning; some ascend to heaven in broad daylight; some conceal their forms beyond detection. As for occult methods, medicines, and elixirs, there is nothing we cannot do. We pray to be permitted to compete with them: first, so that the sage emperor's mind may be set at ease; second, so that the true and the false may be distinguished; third, so that the Great Dao may find its rightful place; fourth, so that the customs of China may not be thrown into disorder. If in our competition we prove inferior, we submit to whatever severe punishment may be decided; if we prevail, we beg that the false and deceitful be eliminated.' An imperial decree ordered Song Xiang, the Master of Writing, to lead them into the Changle Palace. The imperial decree stated: 'On the fifteenth day of this month, you may assemble at the Baima Temple.' The Daoist priests then erected three altars, with each altar having twenty-four gates opened. Daoist priests of the South Peak, Chu Shanxin; of the West Peak, Liu Zhengnian; of the North Peak, Huan Wendu; of the East Peak, Jiao Dexin; of the Central Peak, Lü Huitong; along with Qi Wenxin and others of eighteen mountains such as Mount Huo, Tianmu, Wutai, and Bailu, totaling 690 men, each brought 590 scrolls of Numinous Treasure True Texts, Supreme Jade Instructions, and Three Primes Talismanic Registers, and placed them on the western altar. They placed 135 scrolls of writings of twenty-seven masters, such as Mao Chengzi, Xu Chengzi, Huangzi, and Laozi, on the central altar. On the eastern altar, they set out offerings of food to sacrifice to the hundred spirits. At that time, the Emperor took his place in a temporary hall at the south gate of the temple, placing the Buddha's relics, scriptures, and images to the west of the path. On the fifteenth day, when the fast concluded, the Daoist priests bundled firewood and reeds mixed with sandalwood and aloeswood to make torches. Circling the scriptures of their masters, they wept and said, 'Your servants report upward to the Great Dao of the Grand Ultimate, the Heavenly Worthy of Primordial Beginning, all the immortals and hundred spirits: Now the barbarians throw the central realm into disorder; the sovereign believes in heterodoxy; the true teaching has lost its path, and the profound tradition has dropped its thread. Your servants dare to place the scriptures upon the altar and test them with fire, wishing to reveal them to the minds of the multitude so they may distinguish the true from the false.' Thereupon they set fire to burn the scriptures. Consumed by the fire, the scriptures were entirely reduced to ash. The Daoist priests looked at each other, paling and overcome with immense terror. Those who wished to ascend to heaven or conceal their forms lacked any power to do so; those who commanded ghosts and spirits called and ordered them, but received no response. Each harbored deep shame and regret. The Daoist priest of the South Peak, Fei Shucai, died of his own grief and resentment. Grand Tutor Zhang Yan said to Chu Xin, 'The test you performed has yielded no proof, which means it is false and deceitful. You should turn toward the true Dharma that has come from the West.' Chu Xin said, 'Mao Chengzi said that the Supreme Lord is the Numinous Treasure Heavenly Worthy, and the work of creation is called the Great Simplicity. How could this be false?' Yan said, 'The Great Simplicity has the reputation of prizing virtue, but has no spoken teachings. Now you claim it has spoken teachings; that is precisely what is false.' Xin then fell silent. At that time, the Buddha's relics emitted light of five colors, shooting straight into the air and whirling like a canopy, completely covering the great assembly and outshining the sunlight. Master Mātaṅga leaped high into the air, sitting and lying in empty space, displaying various supernatural transformations. At that time, heavenly precious flowers rained down upon the Buddha and the Saṅgha, and heavenly music was heard, deeply moving people's hearts. The great assembly was moved and delighted, praising it as something never seen before. All encircled Dharmaratna and asked him to preach the essentials of the Dharma. Ratna then uttered the great Brahmā voice, praising the Buddha's merit and virtues, and also had the great assembly extol the Triratna. He taught that wholesome and unwholesome phenomena all bring their retribution, and that the various marks of the six paths and triyāna are not uniform. He also explained the merit of pravrajyā as yielding the highest blessing, and that initially founding a Buddhist monastery yields the same measure of blessing as that of Brahmā. At that time, Liu Jun, the Minister of Works and Marquis of Yangcheng, along with over a thousand people including various officials, scholar-officials, and commoners, took pravrajyā. Also, 628 Daoist priests from the Four Sacred Peaks and various mountains, including Lü Huitong, took pravrajyā; Lady Yin, Lady of Handsome Fairness Wang, and other palace ladies and women, totaling 230 people, took pravrajyā. From that day until the end of the month, offerings of various kinds were prepared and given daily; monastic robes and water vessels were all provided by the relevant offices. Ten monasteries were then established: seven to house monks outside the city, and three to house nuns inside the city of Luoyang. The rise of the Buddha's Dharma under the Han began from this. Earlier, when Mātaṅga came from the west, he brought a painted standing image of Śākyamuni; the Emperor then ordered that it be copied, and offerings were made to it in the mausoleum park and at the Luoyang gates.

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2. In the former Wei, the ruler of Wu revered the Buddhist tradition, built pagodas and monasteries for the Buddha, and consequently inquired into the relative merits of the three teachings.

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The Book of Wu states: In the fourth year of the Chiwu reign era of Sun Quan, there was the śramaṇa Kang Senghui, who was the eldest son of the grand chancellor of the kingdom of Kangju. His spiritual bearing was upright and stern, and he took traveling and converting as his duty. At that time, the Three Kingdoms stood tripartite like a tripod, each holding its own balance of power; the Buddhadharma had spread to the north, but had not yet reached the southern realm. Senghui wished to cause the Dao to cover those who had not yet heard it and to open the teaching in Jiangbiao. When he first arrived in Jianye, he built a thatched hut, set up an image, and practiced the Dao. When the people of Wu first saw him, they called it something uncanny and bizarre. The relevant officials submitted a memorial about it, and the Lord of Wu questioned him, asking, "What divine verification does the Buddha possess?" Senghui said, "The Buddha concealed his spiritual traces more than a thousand years ago, yet his relic śarīra manifests in response without fixed measure." The Lord of Wu said, "If you obtain a śarīra, I shall erect a pagoda for him." After three times seven days, he finally obtained a śarīra: its five colors illumined the sky; striking it made it ever harder, and burning it did not set it alight. Its radiance issued forth from the fire, forming a great lotus that illumined the palace halls. Ministers and sovereign were astonished and sighed in admiration, and faithful sentiment arose [within them]. Thereupon, he built a pagoda, ordained people, and erected a temple for him; because of his dwelling place, it was called Buddha Lane. The teaching and Dharma first arose [here], and so it was named Jianchu Temple ("Temple of the Founding of the First"). Soon after, he issued an imperial decree asking the Prefect of the Masters of Writing, Kan Ze, "Since Han Ming[di], altogether how many years have passed? Since Buddhism has entered the Han for so long, by what cause has it only now arrived east of the Yangtze?" Ze said, "From the tenth year of the Yongping reign era, when the Buddhadharma first came, until the present fourth year of Chiwu, it has been one hundred and seventy years. Initially, in the fourteenth year of Yongping, when the Daoist priests of the Five Sacred Peaks vied in power with [Kāśyapa] Mātaṅga, the Daoist priests were inferior. The Southern Peak Daoist priests Chu Shanxin, Fei Shucai, and others died of chagrin at the assembly. Their disciples returned to bury them at the Southern Peak; not partaking in pravrajyā, there was no one to disseminate it. Later, they met with the decline of the Han government and the non-cessation of military conflict; only after many years have now passed could it begin to flourish and spread." He further asked, "Can Kong Qiu and Laozi be matched against the Buddha or not?" Ze said, "Your servant has heard that Master Kong of Lu was exceptionally talented and remarkably gifted, a sage whose virtue was unmatched. The world called him the Uncrowned King; he authored and transmitted the classics, teaching and exhorting the Zhou Way, and converting future generations. The style of the teachers and Confucians has moistened past and present. There were also recluses such as Xu Chengzi, Yuan Yangzi, Zhuangzi, Laozi, and the other writings of the hundred masters, all of whom cultivated themselves and enjoyed themselves in leisurely abandon; in the mountain valleys, they indulged their minds. Their learning returned to indifference, their affairs contrary to human relations and the decorum between elders and youths; neither was it a style that brought peace to customs or transformed living beings. When it came to Emperor Jing of the Han, because the meaning and substance of Huangzi and Laozi were especially profound, he changed the 'masters' to 'classics' and first established Daoist studies, issuing a decree ordering both court and commoners to chant them. If you take the two teachings of Kong and Lao and compare them from afar to the Buddhadharma, the distance is great indeed! Why is this so? The two teachings of Kong and Lao model themselves on Heaven and regulate application, not daring to contravene Heaven; when the Buddhas set forth the teachings, Heaven models itself on them and practices them, not daring to contravene the Buddhas. Speaking in this way, they truly cannot be compared." The Lord of Wu was greatly delighted and appointed Ze as Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince (the rest is broadly set forth in Jin Zong Bing's Mingfo lun).

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Essay on Discerning the Dao, by Cao Zijian, Prince Si of Chen of the Wei

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"Now, the books on immortals and the sayings of the Daoists actually claim that Fu Yue ascended to become the Tail Constellation and that the Year Star descended to become Dongfang Shuo; that King An of Huainan was executed in Huainan, yet they call it attaining the Dao and ascending lightly; that Lady Gouyi died at Yunyang, yet they call it the corpse departing and the coffin being empty. How extreme is their falsity! Among the upright critics of the Restoration, there was Huan Junshan; of what he wrote, Liu Zijun often approved. [Zijun] once asked, saying, 'If a person can truly suppress desires and close ears and eyes, can they avoid decline and exhaustion?' At that time, there was an old elm tree below the courtyard. Junshan pointed to it and said, 'This tree has no passions or desires to restrain and no ears or eyes to close; yet it still withers and rots away. When you, Zijun, say that one can avoid decline and exhaustion, that is no sound argument.' Junshan's citing the elm as an analogy was not yet correct. Why is that? Formerly, when I served as Grandee Master of Music for Wang Mang, the Music Records said: Emperor Wen obtained Duke Dou, the musician of Marquis Wen of Wei, who was one hundred and eighty years old and blind in both eyes. The emperor, marveling at him, asked what he had practiced. He replied, 'Your servant lost his sight at the age of thirteen; my parents, grieving that I could not attend to practical affairs, taught me to play the qin. Your servant cannot perform gymnastics and does not know by what power I obtained longevity.' Junshan commented on this, saying, 'He rather obtained the aid of saving his blindness, concentrating singly on inner vision, and not directing his essence to inspect outwardly.' Having first refuted Zijun on the grounds that inner vision was of no benefit, he then withdrew to discuss Duke Dou and immediately cited non-inspection as proof; I have not seen any definitive conclusion in him. Junshan also said: 'Among the magicians, there was a certain Dong Zhongjun who committed an offense and was imprisoned. He feigned death for several days: his eyes sank, maggots came forth, and he died and revived, only to die in the end. That life must end in death is understood by the gentleman; what need is there for analogies?' Now, even the most spiritual does not surpass Heaven and Earth, yet they cannot cause hibernating insects to depart in summer or thunder to strike in winter. When the seasons change, things move; when the qi shifts, events respond. That this Zhongjun could harbor his qi, make a corpse of his body, rot his flesh, and bring forth maggots—is this not an immense monstrosity? In the world there are magicians; when the king arrived, he summoned all of them: Ganling had Gan Shi, Lujiang had Zuo Ci, and Yangcheng had Xi Jian. Shi could circulate qi and practice gymnastics; Ci was knowledgeable in bedchamber arts; and Jian was skilled in abstaining from grains—all were said to be three hundred years old. The reason they were originally gathered in the state of Wei was truly for fear that such folk would link up with treachery and deceit to deceive the masses, or practice uncanny evils to bewilder people; hence they were assembled and placed under restriction. Gan Shi was old yet possessed a youthful appearance, and all the rest of the practitioners turned to him. However, Shi's words were numerous yet scant of substance, and he rather harbored strange pronouncements. Had he encountered the First Emperor of Qin or Emperor Wu of the Han, he would have been another Xu Fu or Luan Da. Jie and Zhou belonged to different ages yet were equal in evil; wicked people belong to different eras yet are identical in falsehood—is it not like this? Furthermore, in the world there are baseless claims of immortals. Are immortals of the kind of monkeys and apes, or do people of the world attain the Dao and transform into immortals? Now, when pheasants enter the sea they become clams, and when swallows enter the sea they become giant mussels. When they hovered with their wings and flew unevenly with their plumage, they still recognized themselves; suddenly casting themselves in, their spirit transforms and their body changes, and they actually form a flock with turtles and soft-shelled turtles—could they still recognize the joy of soaring in the groves and thickets or nesting under walls and roofs? Niu Ai fell ill and turned into a tiger; meeting his elder brother, he bit him. In cases such as these, what is there to value in transformation? Yet [emperors] were considerably duped by commoners: receiving false words, believing dazzling claims, offering grand courtesies to summon those who would not submit as subjects, exhausting property to provide for empty quests, dispensing princely ranks to honor them, and clearing quiet mansions to house them. Over years and seasons, in the end there was not a single effect. Some died at Shaqu, or passed away at Wuzha. When the time came, though their bodies were executed and their clans wiped out, the tumult was well enough to be the laughingstock of the empire! Nevertheless, as for the length of lifespan and the strength or weakness of bones and body, each person possesses their own. Those who nourish them well complete them; those who exhaust and disturb them halve them; those who spend them in vain die young. Does it not mean this?"

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Prince Si of Chen, Cao Zhi, styled Zijian, was the fourth son of Emperor Wu of the Wei. He was initially enfeoffed as Prince of Dong'e Commandery, and after his death was given the posthumous title Prince Si of Chen. In his youth he held the beauty of jade; at the age of ten he could compose literature. As soon as his brush touched paper, it was accomplished, without any initial revision. Of the worldly arts and skills, there were none he had not mastered completely. When Handan Chun saw him, he was astonished into submission and called him a divine man. Whenever Zhi read Buddhist sūtras, he would linger over them, sighing in admiration and savoring them, regarding them as the ultimate culmination of the supreme Dao. He thereupon created the melodic rise and fall and intricate modulations of the seven tones for chanting, which the world's recitation took as a model. He once traveled to Mount Yu and suddenly heard the sounds of the Brahmā heaven in the sky, clear, uplifting, mournful, and delicate, its tones stirring the heart. He listened alone for a long time, while none of his attendants heard it. Zhi was deeply moved by the spiritual principle and became ever more enlightened to the response of the Dharma; he then emulated its rhythm and melody, writing it down as Buddhist chanting (fanbai), composing the texts and establishing the tones to be transmitted as a standard for later generations. The illustrious radiance of Brahmā sounds began from this. The hymns he transmitted numbered six sections in all; they are found in the Liang śramaṇa Sengyou's Fayuan ji. However, he broadly grasped the sources of the Dao and meticulously searched the records of immortals, [finding that] their treachery and falsity were mostly bizarre and ultimately amounted to embellished deception. Therefore, the detailed discerning exposition in the preceding treatise is certainly clear.

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Essay on Sages and Worthies Following the Same Track and Lao Dan Not Being a Great Worthy, Composed by Sun Sheng of the Jin

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Recently, having found leisure in my retirement, I set down what I have reflected upon, looking up to the dark and subtle depths of the early philosophers and evaluating the great worthies along the spiritual path. Observing their manners and investigating their conduct, the distinction between higher and lower can practically be discerned. Now, the great sagely ones seize their opportune time; hence, their traces follow wherever circumstance leads. The great worthies are slightly inferior to them; hence, they expand or contract in accord with the great sages. Because what they respond to is different, their visible traces diverge—in abdication versus armed conflict. Because their way is second only to the subtle, their course of stepping forth or holding back does not differ [in principle]. This is just like dragons and tigers following wind and clouds, or forms and sounds uniting with their shadows and echoes: the principle is inherently natural, not brought about by summoning. For this reason, the Viscount of Ji and King Wen shared the same portent, yet found primal auspiciousness amid the maws of tigers and rhinos; Yan Hui and Confucius both met with adversity, yet wandered carefree between Kuang and Chen. Tang Yao emulated Heaven, and Ji and Xie aided his transformation; Tang and Wu carried out the mandate of revolution, and Yi Yin and Lü Shang assisted their achievements. Arguing from this, they accord with the thesis of shadows and echoes and the talk of 'only you and I'—how could this not be credible? Why is this? The great worthies draw close to observing the images. In observing the images, they understand the vessel; understanding the vessel, they encompass beforehand; encompassing beforehand good fortune and bad, they thereby maneuver the forms. In this, they are one with governing, responding to and engaging with the myriad quarters; in the end they preserve primal auspiciousness, whether in obstruction or success, hindrance or fluidity—their measure is one. It is only that they delight in the sage and take joy in ease, yet depend on external conditions to flourish; they revere the hidden yet cannot fully unite with the hidden; they rejoice in stillness yet cannot abide entirely in stillness. It is by this that superiority and inferiority are judged. As for the middling worthies, the third class of persons, they are separated from the sages by a gap; thus the way of embodying the hidden is not fully realized, and their natural application cannot attain profound unity. Yet, yearning for antiquity and cherishing excellence, their loftier ideals halt in frustration; looking up in admiration to the pure mores and exclusively chanting of ultimate emptiness, there are some who lodge among forests and gorges like the likes of Chaofu and Xu You, or whose words and deeds hold the reins [of independence] like the fellows of Laozi and Pengzu. This too is not done intentionally; it is of the natural order of things. Now, an agitated disposition loves stillness, and a soft nature cherishes firmness; profaning what is habitually practiced and enjoying what is rarely heard are the common ways of the world. Therefore, when seeing one-sided, contrarian statements, people no longer investigate their suitability to circumstances; seeing discourses of bending and straightening, they no longer realize the error of exceeding straightness. Examining what Laozi wrote that agrees with the sage's teaching: are his metaphors of cutting in place of the master carpenter and of webbed toes and extra fingers absurd? What opposes the sage's teaching goes far from what is suitable for saving the world and contravenes the meaning of 'the bright Way seeming dim.' When do the Six Classics ever lack instruction on emptiness and stillness, or lessons on humility and restraint? Confucius said: 'Transmitting and not creating, trusting in and loving antiquity, I quietly compare myself to Lao Peng.' Examining this intent, the way of Lao Peng is already encompassed within the sage's teaching! Moreover, it merely points to two matters, and was not an absolute claim. How is this clear? The sage is profoundly still—what would he not love? Furthermore, from the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors downward, none did not create. Hence the hexagram images of the Changes and the classic tomb-texts are brilliantly displayed, and rafters, eaves, and clothing arose with the times. Where is there only transmitting and not creating? Therefore the Changes says: 'When the sage creates, the myriad things behold him.' The utterance of these words merely pointed out that the virtues of Lao Peng bore some slight resemblance to the points of his own visible conduct. It is also just like: 'Concealing resentment and befriending the person—Zuoqiuming was ashamed of it; Qiu was also ashamed of it.' How could that compare to 'there is nothing in my words that does not please him' as the utmost in mutual understanding? Furthermore, Yan Hui and Confucius did not make health preservation their concern, while Laozi and Pengzu cultivated it; Confucius and Yan Hui made themselves one with common people, while Laozi and Pengzu set themselves apart. All these several items are not without the traces of those inferior to the sages; and yet their book often contains contradictions, roughly listed as follows. May the men of broad cultivation and noble attire fortunately eliminate their errors! Moreover, I do not understand Lao Dan's intention in soaring away: was it to lay down instruction for the Rong and Di barbarians and guide different domains? If he wished to clearly proclaim and guide different kinds, then 'left-folded lapels' are not the place for dark transformation, and a solitary departure is not an act of laudable retirement. When the Chinese lands were declining, disseminating instruction was the priority. The teachings of the sage proceed from the near to the distant; there has never been a wandering across such distant perils as that. If he feared misfortune and sought to avoid the land, then he could have hidden within the sage's gate: the Shang court and the state of Lu each had those who remained unaffected. If one attains the Dao, then the butchering blade moves with room to spare and whatever ground one touches meets with primal auspiciousness: why go against the mind of Heaven among the Rong and Mo barbarians? If he could not do so, was he not merely of the kind who hides at court to pray for immortality?

1.14

In the past, Pei Yimin composed the two treatises, 'Upholding Being' and 'Valuing Non-being'. Commentators of the time either considered him unable to penetrate the way of emptiness and transcendence, or considered him one who corrected the drifts of his era. In my view, to value non-being is already an error, and to uphold being is not yet to grasp it either. As a thing, the Dao is only elusive and vague; responding to circumstances without fixed direction, it moves according to whatever change demands. Meeting with times of clarity and purity, it oversees tallies with hands folded; encountering the transformations of the myriad movements, physical forms vigorously arise. Hence, though their thorough insight was identical, their teachings of being and non-being were laid out differently; though the sagely attainment was one, the appellations and designations differed in title. Tang and Yu did not yearn for knotted cords, and Tang and Wu did not emulate abdication. How could they be different? It was because of the movements of the times. But Boyang sought to hold to the way of antiquity to govern the beings of the present, and Yimin sought to hold to the beings of the present to sever the mores of antiquity. Therefore, I consider that those two gentlemen did not penetrate the way of all-encompassing transformation, each merely boasting of his own single corner.

1.15

Sun Sheng of Jin: Doubts, Inquiries, and Counter-examinations on the Laozi

1.16

The Daoist scripture says: 'Therefore, constantly be without desire so as to observe its subtlety; constantly have desire so as to observe its outcomes. These two emerge together but have different names; together they are called the dark. Dark upon dark, the gate of all subtleties.' Older explanations and Wang Bi's commentary say that subtlety refers to the beginning, and outcomes refer to the end. Now, observing the beginning to grasp the end, and beholding the subtle to know the manifest, is the discernment of the attained person. Since one has already purified the spirit with lack of desire to illuminate its subtle beginning, then from this point on one ought to settle everything; why is there further need to have desire to grasp its end? Moreover, having desire and lacking desire both emerge from the wondrous gate and are both called the dark. If one goes by this, why value only lack of desire? 'When everyone under Heaven knows the beautiful as beautiful, there is already ugliness; when everyone knows the good as good, there is already badness.'

1.17

Sheng considers that names of beauty and ugliness arise from the realities of beauty and ugliness. When the Dao and virtue are pure and beautiful, there is a good name; when one is stubborn, stupid, deaf, and blind, there is an evil reputation. Thus the Changes says: 'If evil is not accumulated, it is not sufficient to ruin oneself'; and it says: 'Beauty being within, it extends to the four limbs and manifests in undertakings'; and it says: 'The Shao is completely beautiful, yet not completely good.' This being so, supreme beauty and supreme goodness are known to everyone under Heaven; how can one say 'there is already ugliness'? If false beauty is not beauty, and pretended good is not good, what is considered beautiful exceeds beauty, and what is considered good departs from the mean; such things are what worldly teachings detest and what the sage-kings warned against, and everyone under Heaven naturally knows them as well. Regarding the statements: 'Do not esteem the worthy, so that people do not contend; do not value goods hard to obtain, so that people do not steal; constantly cause people to be without knowledge and without desire, and cause those with knowledge not to dare to act'; and again: 'Abandon learning and there is no sorrow. Between assent and dissent, how much is the difference? Between good and evil, what is the contrast?' And the later chapter says: 'The good person is the teacher of the not-good person; the not-good person is the resource of the good person. If one does not value one's teacher and does not love one's resource, although wise, one is greatly deluded'—Sheng considers that if the people genuinely have no desires, what would they take as teacher from a teacher? Since they take each other as teachers and resources, how can this not be learning? When the not-good takes the good as teacher, how can this not be esteeming the worthy? Since valuing and loving are present, then good and evil must become manifest; how can it be said 'what is the contrast?' And the later chapter says: 'What others teach, I also teach to people. My words are very easy to know, yet no one under Heaven can know them'; and again: 'I will take it as the father of teaching.' Tracing these statements, this is not yet abandoning learning. Does the so-called 'abandoning' refer to the learning of Yao and Confucius? The learning of Yao and Confucius instituted teachings according to the times; the words of Master Lao made single what was esteemed. Instituting teachings according to the times is why their way penetrates a hundred generations; making single what is esteemed inevitably causes stagnation in adapting to change. This is another point that my benightedness cannot comprehend.

1.18

'The Dao is empty, yet in using it, it is not exhausted. Harmonize its light, make it identical with its dust.' Sheng considers that Lao Dan can be said to have known the Dao, but not to have embodied the Dao. Formerly, when Taotang presided over all under Heaven, 'not a day did he become remiss'; when he discerned and employed the multitude, and consulted and raised a common man, he swiftly abdicated and conferred the throne. Was this not being empty and using it, being identical with that light and dust? Boyang was not so: having held a corrupt position, he then fled far away to the Western Rong; in his conduct his traces were wild and reckless, and in writing his book his words were artful and deceptive. Was harmonizing the light and identifying with the dust truly like this? I firmly maintain that he knew the Dao, but as for embodying the Dao, he had not yet done so. The Daoist scripture says: 'These three cannot be examined to the utmost, hence they blend into one. Continuous and unnameable, it returns to non-thingness. The image of non-thingness, this is called the elusive and vague.' And the later chapter says: 'As a thing, the Dao is only vague and elusive. Elusive and vague, within it there is an image; vague and elusive, within it there is a thing.' These two chapters either speak of non-thingness or speak of things—a previous inconsistency.

1.19

"Grasp the Dao of antiquity to direct the beings of today." The preceding chapter says: "Those who grasp it lose it; those who act upon it spoil it." Yet here it says again: "Grasp the Dao of antiquity to direct the beings of today." Alternately grasping and not grasping—does this not fall into contradictory discourse? "Abandon sageliness and discard wisdom, and the people will benefit a hundredfold." Sun Sheng says: Where there are benevolence and sageliness, there must be traces of benevolence and sageliness. If these are not revered, how could edifying instruction flourish? If benevolence and righteousness are not valued, the way of filial piety and parental affection is lost. Laozi speaks of abandoning sageliness, yet in every chapter he readily refers to the sage. Having spoken of the sage, how can traces be abandoned? If what is to be abandoned are the traces of Yao, Shun, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius, then what traces belong to the one he calls a sage? If it is as he says, that for sages there are those whose traces should be destroyed and those whose traces should be praised, then with praising and destroying so divergent, whom should we follow? "Abandon benevolence and discard righteousness, and the people will return to filial piety and parental affection." If it is as this discourse says, then unless benevolence and righteousness are abandoned, there is neither filial piety nor parental affection. Yet it also says: "In dwelling, good is found in the land; in giving, good is found in benevolence." I do not understand whether this benevolence of "in giving, good is found in benevolence" is the very benevolence that he earlier spoke of wanting to abandon. If it is, then he should not praise and expound it again. If it is not, then the distinction between the two kinds of benevolence is not clarified—that one benevolence should be abandoned while the other benevolence should be made clear. This is another point I have not comprehended. If this refers to the sageliness of non-sageliness and the benevolence of non-benevolence, then what the standard teaching condemns does not require lofty proclamations [by him]. Coming down to Zhuang Zhou, he says: "Until the sage dies, the great robber will not cease." And he says: "Tian Chang stole benevolence and righteousness to seize the state of Qi." Now, Heaven and Earth mold and cast, rearing both good and evil together. Each is endowed with naturalness; by principle they do not depend on one another. The screech owl and the poison-feathered bird unleash their venom without needing to study under the luan-bird and the phoenix; jackals and tigers unleash harm without borrowing arts from the qilin. These are all natural endowments of Heaven that do not require external things. Why should vile and obstinate men alone have to borrow benevolence and righteousness to achieve their villainy? When Modu murdered his father, or the Earl of Zheng stole Kuai, did they first borrow the way of filial piety to achieve their ultimate harm? Yet Zhuangzi and Laozi strike down and destroy the root, slandering and rebutting correct teachings. How does this differ from despising robbers and thieves and therefore melting down shields and halberds, or seeing someone choke on food and therefore casting away fine grain? Even if later commentators craft twisted explanations and argue to resolve it, none avoids distress over killing the sage or stumbling over forgetting one's parents. "Those who understand me are rare, and therefore I am noble." The preceding chapter also says: "When the sage is in the world, the hundred surnames all fix their ears and eyes upon him." Teacher and student, esteem and love, are inevitably manifest to the ten thousand things. If it is like this, how could those who understand him be rare? And why must one whom few understand be noble? With his own person honored throughout the nine realms, how could he turn his back on reality and stubbornly claim that his nobility came from being understood by few? This was merely an attempt to restrain and reform common custom, which led to this exaggerated statement. The sacred teaching [of the sages] is not like this. Its words are moderate and harmonious, instructing and guiding through principle. Thus it is said: "At home he is sure to be heard of; in the state he is sure to be heard of." To be heard of means he is sure to have attained prominence. "Not showing off the good and being without resentment" is the virtue of the hidden dragon. "Not feeling resentful when people do not understand him" is the way of the noble person. "When the multitude loves him, one must examine it; when the multitude hates him, one must examine it." He neither considers having many understand him as prominent, nor considers having few understand him as noble. His instructions and enticements are generous and relaxed, naturally hitting the mean of principle. How could his merit and demerit be spoken of in the same breath as Lao Dan's words? "Rites are the thinning of loyalty and good faith, and the head of disorder. Foreknowledge is the flower of the Dao, and the beginning of foolishness. Therefore the great man dwells in the thick and not in the thin; he dwells in the solid and not in the flower." Sun Sheng says: Lao Dan was fully aware that the rites and music of the sages were not instruments of profound transcendence, but were fashioned only because there was no alternative. Why then did he deliberately vilify them? Discarding the study of rites to fulfill his own indulgence and discourse on naturalness—did he not understand that in decadent later ages, people could never return to the Dao of naturalness? He merely wanted to express what his own heart favored. In that case, he could not avoid being driven by his own preferences, and was not one who selflessly set his heart on saving beings. Not only did he fail to save them, he encouraged their vices. Some may ask: Did Zhuangzi and Laozi deliberately make these proclamations to serve as the exterior and interior along with the sage's teaching, their edifying of beings and lucid instructions returning to the same goal? Sun Sheng thought this was not so. The Way of the sage is broad, vast, and all-inclusive, like the sun and moon suspended in the heavens—what do they not illuminate? The words of Confucius are all interwoven in the Six Classics. Could there still be any deficit awaiting the support of Dan and Zhou? It is just what Zhuang Zhou called: "When the sun and moon have come out, yet the torch fire is not extinguished." As for empty cantillations, bizarre marvels, and craftily deceptive words, they remain confined and obstructed in one corner, arbitrarily proclaiming strange statements that are not canonical. "Kings and lords attain the One to become the uprightness of the world." "Uprightness" means rectitude. Yet the next chapter says: "Who knows its limit? It has no rectitude. Rectitude turns again into the strange; good turns again into the monstrous." Examining these two chapters, one says it is the rectitude of the world, while the other says there is no rectitude. Having said that the good person is the teacher of the bad person, it then says he becomes monstrous. The goodness of the world is one, yet it is alternately a teacher and monstrous. The upright Dao of the world is one, yet it says rectitude turns again into the strange. This is conversely something my humble understanding has not been able to penetrate.

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