北山錄 9.2.5

9.2.5

[...one can keep oneself plain and unadorned. If, by studying other traditions, they come to dispute and quarrel often; yet if they can study other traditions and external teachings while remaining modest and cautious, they may be called a gentleman-monk.] Therefore, earlier sages said: "Learning to one's person is like food and like music." Now, food uses vinegar, meat sauce, salt, and plums to adjust its seasoning into harmony, supplementing what falls short and purging what is excessive; only after consuming it are the five viscera balanced. (Supplementing means adding to; purging means reducing. These are the words of Yanzi in response to the Marquis of Qi, when the Marquis and Liangqiuju were on the terrace of Yanchuan. It differs slightly from the text in Zuo zhuan, chapter 24.) Music uses metal, stone, silk, and bamboo to tune its pitch into harmony (metal is the bells; stone, the sounding stones; silk, the lute and zither; bamboo, the flutes, etc.; gourd is the sheng and yu; earth is the xun; hide is the drums; wood is the zhu and yu; these are called the eight tones), restraining what is about to lapse and curtailing what is wanton (after the five tones, wanton playing is not permitted; if there are excessive flourishes and licentious sounds, they should be pruned and moderated); only after listening to it are the five breaths aligned (the breaths of the Five Phases). If one exclusively clings to a single taste or a single tone, what can be gained from it? Formerly, Huiyuan wrote the Treatise on Śramaṇas Not Paying Homage [to Kings]: he merely sought to clarify his own principle without slandering Ruism or Daoism; to this day, people receive its benefits. In the Northern Zhou, Dao'an wrote the Treatise on the Two Teachings: forgetting their merits while pointing out their faults, his words arose from a contentious mind. When the Yuwen clan saw through it, they obtained Bian Zhuangzi’s method of stabbing the tigers. (Formerly, Bian Zhuangzi saw two tigers fighting over food and was about to slay them. A household servant admonished him, requesting that he wait for their fight: the larger would surely be wounded, and the smaller would surely die; stabbing them afterward, he could seize both at a single stroke. It turned out just as he had said. Now, when Dao'an and external traditions slandered one another, they both pushed their faults and flaws to the extreme. Emperor Wu of the Zhou was able to see through this and use their strategy.) Yet Emperor Yong relied on his might (Yong was the personal name of Emperor Wu of the Zhou. The emperor ascended the throne in the third year of Wucheng; in the second year of Jiande, he abolished both Buddhism and Daoism; in the first year of Dacheng, he died. The destruction lasted from the guisi year to the wuxu year). His lack of faith was no worse than that of Huan Xuan; yet Huan submitted while Zhou resisted. (Huan Xuan was going to order monks to pay homage and undergo defrocking; Master Yuan submitted a memorial to stop it, and also wrote the Treatise on Not Paying Homage.) Can this not be known through the depth or shallowness of their talent and insight? But in these times, there are unlearned individuals whose minds and wisdom are deaf and blind. Relying on their stubbornness and shallowness, like pigs and sheep, they band together in perversity; looking upon wisdom and the arts, they mock and laugh at them familiarly, considering that composing writings is an error heavier than Mount Heng or Mount Tai. (There are vulgar, ignorant, and shallow people, like pigs and sheep, who perversely consider those who study writing to be guilty of mountain-like faults.) Did the former sages not speak truly when they called them "a flock of sheep-monks"? (The sūtras and vinaya speak of "dumb-sheep monks.") Furthermore, there are wildly eccentric men who abandon their root teachings, casually browse through ancient classics, wander about leisurely, and despise what is within—like pigs bearing mire; when seeing purity, they abhor it. (The wildly eccentric are those who do not maintain moderation in their pursuits. There are those who leave their parents and admire the Way, cutting off attachments to become monks, yet do not know how to spur themselves to cultivate and advance; completely abandoning the scriptural teachings, they devote themselves exclusively to external learning, chanting odes and poetry, yet inversely harboring contempt for their root teachings. Therefore, our men of high virtue look upon them with aversion, as if toward filth. This is what is called failing the former sages, bringing no benefit to patrons, sinking into the three destinies, and bringing blame upon oneself.) Such are of the ilk of Huilin and Huixiu of the Song dynasty. (Both of these were poet-monks of the Jiangbiao region, who had nothing to recommend them in virtue.) Huilin's literary scholarship was outstanding, and he was appreciated by Taizu (Taizu was Liu Yu). Whenever he mounted a solitary couch, Yan Yanzhi was jealous of his talent, sighing indignantly and saying, "This seat of the Three Terraces—how can it be occupied by an amputee?" Huilin was arrogant and conceited. His master, Daoyuan, possessed learning and conduct, and Emperor Wen regarded him highly. Daoyuan once visited Fu Liang’s residence, where Huilin was already seated; when Daoyuan arrived, Huilin did not pay him respect. Daoyuan looked angry, and Liang had Huilin flogged twenty times. Later, he wrote the Treatise on Black and White, broadly arguing that the six pāramitās and the five teachings operate in parallel, and that faithful compliance stands equal with compassion; within it, there was much self-infliction and disparagement. He Chengtian considered that the monk Huilin had hastily produced singular views. Yan Yanzhi said of him, "Residing within their gate yet watching for their shortcomings, he is a thief and menace to the Dharma—what place can tolerate him?" Later, he was convicted of a crime and banished to Jiaozhou, where he died in seething anger. Yet Master Fu’s punishment was truly that of a gentleman! He did not compromise the law through personal affection or partisanship for a fault; it was truly an instruction to discipline all things. The petty man is not like this: taking the side of a minister, he defies his ruler; relying on his lowliness, he insults the noble; rejoicing in what profits himself, he forgets monstrous shame. When Huixiu composed literature, his fame was pre-eminent among the top talents; but he indulged in wine and sex and lacked deportment. (The Shu monk Kepeng was also like this: he died in an inn, and his corpse was cast out into the wilderness.) Emperor Xiaowu, deeming him to have defiled the conduct of a śramaṇa, decreed that he be forced to return to lay life and appointed him as Literary Attendant of Yangzhou; grieved that he could not fulfill his ambitions, he ended his days as the magistrate of Jurong. There was a monk named Mingjie, who considered poetry, the zither, calligraphy, and painting to be supreme arts; looking upon junior students carrying their book-hampers, he called them "donkeys." In the Xianqing reign period (under Tang Gaozong), when Ximing Monastery was completed, a decree ordered Lingrun to select those of virtue to reside there. Some officials recommended Jie; Master Run said: "Gentlemen, you are vessels of state; when eminent ministers speak, words are not given lightly. You ought to seek learning in the precepts, dhyāna, and wisdom to increase the field of merit; how can you recommend a wine-drinking, meat-eating painter to bear such a great responsibility?" When Jie heard this, he harbored even deeper resentment. When an imperial decree summoned talents in the four subjects without distinguishing between monks and laity, he took the examination and passed. He rejoiced, saying: "Today I finally shed my donkey hide!" Later, divining his fortune for an official career, he accomplished nothing; suffering from cold, hunger, and chronic illness, when about to die, he saw ten beings of bizarre appearance holding blazing torches to welcome him—an inauspicious omen indeed. Therefore, when the capacity of a petty man possesses the arts of a gentleman, it never fails to end in ruin, defeat, and disgrace; truly, Heaven sends down misfortune upon them. It is just like tying torches to the tails of mad elephants (attaching bundles of reeds to the tails of elephants and burning them to make them trample the enemy; this is called torch-elephants), or fitting armor onto the wings of angry fighting-cocks (Ji and Hou were neighbors whose cocks fought; the Ji clan put metal armor on their wings, and the Hou clan put metal spurs on theirs; the two families attacked one another over this, causing turmoil). It only increases their harm. Therefore, the Yijing says: "Bearing a burden yet riding in a carriage invites the arrival of bandits." (This is the line commentary for the six-three line of the Xie hexagram in the Yijing. It means residing where one should not reside, and acting without propriety, riding the second and carrying the fourth to accommodate oneself, which invites the coming of bandits.)