北山錄 9.2.6

9.2.6

brought about by oneself.) This means that a petty person should not harbour thoughts of theft to seize it. Not only does this apply to talent and artistry, but it has never been otherwise regarding physical appearance as well. (Lacking the inner virtue of talent yet possessing its artifice is why one stumbles. Lacking the inner virtue of talent yet possessing such an appearance likewise brings ruin.) Therefore, Yang Huo resembled Confucius, (Yang Huo was a retainer of the Ji family of Lu. In appearance he resembled Confucius, yet he harmed the Ji family and raised a rebellion before fleeing Lu. Therefore, when Confucius once arrived in Kuang, he was mistakenly surrounded by the people of Kuang, who took him for Yang Hu, because Yang Hu had previously acted violently in Kuang.) and Xiang Ji resembled Emperor Shun; (Xiang Yu. Shun had double pupils in his eyes, and Xiang Yu also had double pupils in his eyes.) both were like patterned calves resembling tigers, and in the end they cut short their lifespans. Today, if one becomes a follower of the Śākya clan not through the Way, but merely gains renown through Ruist learning, he is nothing more than a worldly person who has shaven his head. How could he be allowed to endure for long? (In recent times, the poet-monk Zhaofu of Mount Yunding disparaged the Buddha and slighted others; he threw himself into a river and died. Chuluan of Dongchuan hung himself and died. Pingying died in a guest lodging, destitute, freezing, starving, and perishing upon the bare ground. Guifu was covered with sores all year round—all of them were men of arrogance and flippancy.) Formerly, Dao Bao of the Jin, on the verge of tonsure, composed a poem: ‘Only now do I know the river of ten thousand miles / begins its course from an overflowing cup.’ This is truly a carefree aspiration for the Way! Those of discernment are moved by his words and encourage themselves to advance; this is what is called literary refinement. Indeed, making garments like paddy fields and vessels of fired clay (paddy-field garments are the kāṣāya; fired clay is the earthenware bowl) leads one to wear them and hold them, placid and detached in wuwei. Only thereafter, taking the sūtras and vinaya as the carpenter’s ink-line and literary compositions as embellishment, can one reflect on one's appearance and robes—and what blessings would the spirit not have? The *Classic of Poetry* says: ‘The pelican is on the weir, / but does not wet its wings. / That person there / does not match his robes.’ (A pelican is a marsh bird. A weir is a fish weir. Now, for a marsh bird to perch on a weir without wetting its wings is something unheard of. This poem originally satirized Duke Gong of Cao, who was fond of employing petty persons and promoting them to official ranks, yet they merely kept their robes clean and idled about, with no heart to govern the state, just like a pelican on a weir. Today, if sons of the Śākya do not practice the conduct of monks yet dwell in the monastic fields, they are just like this.) I have often observed those in black robes who read books and write literature: they only know worldly sentiments and know nothing else. When they fall ill and gasp for breath, tears stream across their eyes, and they regret the errors of the past. Though they repent, can it be undone? How sorrowful! (Dwelling in the land of paved gold, receiving food from dānapatis, and wearing robes of faithful offerings, yet they sink bewildered into the ancient classics, do not attend to cultivation and progress, rely on their meager talents to demean the worthy and good, and look down on their own root teaching as discarded refuse. These are base-dwelling bhikṣus. Once the candle in the wind approaches, can they not be in panic?) Yet there are those who embrace vessels of jade, radiate the bearing of dragons and elephants, rise high above the dusty world, and are both broad-minded and wise. With sincere resolve they love learning, opening scrolls to seek what they have not yet heard, striving to nurture their excellence so as to elevate their virtue. As for observing Boyi and Shuqi yielding the state, one attains their benevolence. When Zengzi would not enter a hamlet named Shengmu (‘Exceeding the Mother’), one attains his filial piety. (Zeng Shen was exceedingly filial; while travelling, there was a hamlet named Shengmu. Shen detested its name and would not enter.) In Liuxia Hui sheltering the widow, one attains his chastity. In Yan Shuzi turning away the neighbouring maiden, one attains his prudence. In Sunshu Ao, the higher his rank, the lowlier his person, (serving as Prime Minister of Chu, he remained ever humble) one attains his prevention of evil. In Zheng Kaofu walking along the wall at his third appointment, one attains his reverence. (Zheng Kaofu was the ancestor of Zhongni. When the lord of Song gave him his first appointment, he bowed his head; at the second, he bent his back; at the third, he stooped low and walked along the wall.) In Meng Zhifan not boasting, one attains his yielding. (This is Meng Zhice. Lu fought with Qi and Lu was defeated. Meng Zhifan fled bringing up the rear; as they were about to enter the city gate, the countrymen praised his merit. He whipped his horse and said, ‘It was not that I dared to be behind; my horse would not advance.’ He did not wish to claim the merit, hence it is said that he attained yielding.) In Lie Yukou refusing the grain from Ziyang of Zheng, one attains his foresight of peril. (Lie Yukou was a man of Zheng. His family was poor. A guest spoke of him to Ziyang of Zheng, and Ziyang sent him grain. Liezi bowed twice and refused it. His wife looked on, beat her breast and said, ‘I have heard that the wives and children of those who possess the Way all live in ease and joy. Now we look famished. When the lord sends grain to you, Master, why do you not accept it?’ Liezi said, ‘The lord did not know me of himself; he sent me grain because of another's words, and he might likewise blame me because of another's words.’ Later Ziyang indeed met with disaster.) In Yuan Jingmu spitting out the food of the elder of Huqiu, one attains his hatred of evil. (Yuan Jingmu begged for food from the elder of Huqiu. The elder brought down a pot of food to feed him. After Jingmu had eaten, he asked, ‘Who are you, sir?’ The man replied, ‘I am a person of Huqiu.’ Jingmu said, ‘Are you not a robber?’ He then vomited the food out and died. The people of Huqiu were robbers; he detested his unrighteousness.) In Xie An, whose joy and anger did not show on his face, one attains his magnanimity. (Xie An, courtesy name Anshi, served as minister to Emperor Xiaowu of Eastern Jin. When Fu Jian led an army of a million to attack Jin, An showed no fear. When Xie Xuan and the others defeated them, An likewise showed no joy. From this his magnanimity may be known.) In Wang Jingzhi walking with measured steps out of the burning house, one attains his composure. (Wu means stepping. Wang Yuandu, courtesy name Zijing, was the son of the General of the Right Army of Jin. When his house caught fire, Zijing adjusted his robes and cap and walked out leisurely.) In Dai Kui refusing to play the zither at the gates of the prince, one attains his integrity. (Gengjie means unyielding and upright. Dai Kui and Dai Yong were two brothers, both skilled at the zither. Both visited the gate of the Wang family. Someone asked Yong to play the zither, and Yong played it at once. When they asked Kui, Kui said to the messenger, ‘The zither Kui plays is not for the entertainers at a prince's gate.’ Thereupon, facing the messenger, he smashed his zither. From this the relative superiority of the two Dais can be known.) If drawing even a single goodness into oneself is sufficient to bring glory to one's rotting bones, how much more so for one who combines them? (A gentleman hates that his name should not be praised after his death. In learning, one should feel as if one cannot catch up, yet still fear losing it.) Confucius said to Duke Ai of Lu: ‘Among human beings there are five standards: there are the mediocre, there are the scholars, there are the gentlemen, there are the worthy, and there are the sages. The mediocre person is one whose mind does not take the regulations of prudent endings as a model, whose mouth does not utter words of exemplary instruction, (Ge means standard. The Zuo zhuan says: ‘When the mind does not model itself on the norms of virtue and righteousness, one is called stupid; when the mouth does not speak words of loyalty and trustworthiness, one is called duplicitous.’) who does not select the worthy to entrust himself to, and who does not exert himself in practice to settle his resolve.’