鐔津文集 1.10

All things have nature and emotion. From antiquity to the present there are death and life. Yet death, life, nature, and emotion have never failed to exist by depending upon one another. Death indeed depends on life; life indeed depends on emotion; emotion indeed depends on nature. That all things drift and sink in birth and death is because emotion burdens them. A sage had a grand vision: he traced their causes prior to birth, showing whence they come; he pointed out their consummation after death, teaching how they should cultivate themselves. Therefore, using his Way to guide the world, he expelled passion and falsity in the present, so that their necessary consummation in the future would be aided. Now, as for life, since there are a 'before' and an 'after' which interact with the 'present', does this not make the three times? Seeing that future good consummations stem from cultivation in the present, one can certainly see that failure and success in the present stem from what was practiced in the past. Emotion is that which arises from nature; all are emotions. If the habits of emotion have good and bad, at the moment of their transformation, they interact darkly with their own kind and are formed. Among the emotional habits thus formed, some are slight and some are deep; the vessel and capacity are in some cases great and in some cases small. The sage treated them appropriately; therefore he set forth his teaching as the five vehicles and as the three baskets (Tripiṭaka). Diverging from the five vehicles, there are yet further branchings, so multitudinous that they can scarcely be numbered. At the highest, they fully consummate his sagely Way; at the lowest, they reach the humble tasks of worldly farmers, merchants, artisans, physicians, and the hundred crafts: to all he showed why they are so. Yet both these and the five vehicles are all subsumed within the three baskets. To cite the principal ones, the five vehicles head them. The first is called the human vehicle; the second is called the heavenly vehicle; the third is called the śrāvaka vehicle; the fourth is called the pratyekabuddha vehicle; the fifth is called the bodhisattva vehicle. What are called the latter three vehicles guide their followers to transcendently leave the world, causing them to be purely cleansed of defilement and proceed directly to the true reality, acting spiritually and penetrating it, so that the world cannot pry into it. What are called the former two vehicles, because worldly feelings are so tightly bound and desires cannot be dismissed at once, regulate them according to their feelings. What is called the human vehicle refers to the five precepts. The first is not killing, which means one ought to love life and must not violently harm a single creature on one's own whim, not merely not eating their meat. The second is not stealing, which means not taking what is not right, not merely not seizing another's goods. The third is not engaging in sexual misconduct, which means not disordering oneself with anyone who is not one's spouse. The fourth is not lying, which means not deceiving others with words. The fifth is not drinking alcohol, which means not disordering one's cultivated mind with intoxication. What is called the heavenly vehicle broadens the five precepts and is called the ten virtues. The first is not killing; the second is not stealing; the third is not engaging in sexual misconduct; the fourth is not lying: these four have the same meaning as in the five precepts. The fifth is not engaging in frivolous speech, which means not speaking words that embellish wrongdoing. The sixth is not engaging in double-tongued speech, which means not saying one thing to a person's face and another behind their back. The seventh is not engaging in harsh speech, which means not cursing and also not uttering unrighteous words. The eighth is not envying, which means not bearing jealousy. The ninth is not harboring resentment, which means not letting wrath and malice lodge in the heart. The tenth is not being deluded, which means not being blind to good and evil. Now, cultivating all ten of these is the recompense whereby one is born in heaven; cultivating the former five is the provision whereby one becomes human. If all under Heaven were to cultivate themselves respectively with these, even supposing they were not born in heaven, each person would still become thoroughly good; and that everyone should be good while the world is not well ordered has never occurred. Formerly, Emperor Wen of Song said to his minister He Shangzhi: 'I have just read the treatises written by Yan Yanzhi and Zong Bing, which elucidate the Buddha's Dharma with extreme clarity and reason, and both serve to open and encourage people's minds. If all within our borders were influenced by this transformation, I could let my robes hang down, fold my hands, and bring about Great Peace while sitting still. What further business would there be?' Shangzhi then advanced and said: 'In a village of a hundred families, if ten people uphold the five precepts, then ten people will be honest and cautious. In a town of a thousand households, if a hundred people cultivate the ten virtues, then a hundred people will live in harmony. If this customary teaching is maintained throughout the realm, then among millions of registered households there will be millions of benevolent people. If one can practice one good deed, one eliminates one evil deed; if one eliminates one evil deed, one puts an end to one punishment. When one punishment ceases in the family, ten thousand punishments cease in the state. Then Your Majesty's words about bringing about Great Peace while sitting still are indeed correct.' These words hit the mark. If we compare them with Confucianism, then with its so-called five constants of benevolence and righteousness, they differ in name but are one in essence. Now, benevolence and righteousness were the traces of governance for a single lifetime by the ancient kings. Discussing them in terms of traces, they have never failed to be different; tracing them back in terms of principle, they have never failed to be identical. Traces issue from principle, while principle is the ancestor of traces; traces are the branch, while principle is the root. It is fitting for the gentleman to seek the root and put aside the branch. The saying goes: 'Look at what he does; observe his motives; examine what gives him peace. How can a man conceal himself? How can a man conceal himself?' Mencius said: 'If you do not measure their base but only level their tops, a piece of wood an inch square could be made to stand higher than a pointed tower.' This means that one must measure their base and balance their tops before speaking of them. If one holds a single lifetime's traces to account for what is meant by the three times, how is that different from someone walking ten paces interrogating someone walking a hundred paces, saying: 'Why are your footprints so numerous? Why are they not as few as mine?' How could such a person know the distance of where the other was going or how many paces he had taken? Thus when sages establish teachings, their expansions have different suitabilities. Speaking of a single lifetime, one ought to follow human feelings to govern between physical form and life. Speaking of the three times, one ought to rectify the human spirit, pointing to conditions and karma beyond life and death. Although Shennong's records of the hundred medicinal herbs differed, they were identical in curing disease; although Houji's designations of the hundred grains varied, they were identical in nourishing people. Sages' establishment of teachings is different, yet they are identical in doing good. It may be asked: 'The Buddha's Way governs the three times, which is not something reached by ear and eye. By what do you know it clearly?' I answer: 'I say that when a person dies, their spirit does not die; this is the proof of it. The spirit being in a person is like fire being in firewood. Although the former firewood is reduced to ashes along with the fire, how could that by which the fire now burns ever be reduced to ashes?' It may be asked: 'The principle of the spirit is dark and subtle. Once its physical form has perished, who can control where it goes? Does it turn out to be a human, or does it turn out to be a flying, diving, different kind of creature?' I answer: 'This can be understood. If one infers it from the karma of their emotional habits, then its retribution does not err.'

Have you not heard of what the *Hongfan* calls the 'five blessings' and 'six extremities'? The five blessings mean that when people conform in their minds with the sovereign's ultimate (*huangji*), Heaven uses these five to respond by encouraging them forward. The six extremities mean that when people do not conform in their minds with the sovereign's ultimate, Heaven uses these six to respond by deterring them through dread. Now, when their physical forms are present, the resonance of good and evil is already like this; when their spirits depart, how could the retribution for good and evil not be likewise? A Buddhist scripture says: 'All phenomena take form generated by the mind.' This is what it refers to. [One might] ask: 'It is said that the Buddhist Path severs passions, yet what it does is like this—how is that not passion? Does the Buddha also have passions?' I say: Whatever possesses form and image universally has passions; could the Buddha alone have no passion? The Buddha merely practices passion while being without passion. [The interlocutor] asks: 'Since what the Buddha does resembles benevolence and righteousness, how could benevolence and righteousness not be called passions?' I say: What is benevolence? It means kindness and love. What is righteousness? It means fittingness. Fittingness and love both arise from nature and take form in application—if not passions, what are they? Speaking in terms of passions, benevolence and righteousness are the good among passions. If one acts from passion, the tendency borders on expediency; if one acts without passion, the tendency borders on principle. Natures are alike; passions differ. When they differ, the world rarely fails to contend; when they are alike, the world rarely fails to be at peace. The sages wished to guide them to where they would find peace, and therefore extended nature to make it identical with all living beings. The sages wished to quell their contentions, and therefore extended their bosom to encompass all things. Speaking of things, whether insects, motile fauna, or flora, the Buddha universally benefits them all, never scattering or harming them. Speaking of living beings, whether noble or base, worthy or ignoble, the Buddha guides them all equally, causing them to seek it for themselves, extending their nature so as to identify themselves with all living beings—could this not be called Great Sincerity? Extending his bosom to encompass all things entirely—could this not be called Great Compassion? Because of Great Compassion, his moving of people is deep; because of Great Sincerity, his transforming of things is easy. Therefore, within the Central Realms and beyond the four border tribes and eight barbarian peoples, when their people hear the words of the Buddha that doing good brings blessings and doing evil brings guilt, few fail to soberly withdraw their evil intentions and joyfully bring forth their good purposes, holding fast to his teachings with earnest devotion, not daring to let them go. As for what was previously spoken of as the five precepts and ten virtuous actions, how could neighborhood lanes ever fail to transform each other in practicing them? From village to town, from town to prefecture, from prefecture to state, among the scholars of the court and within the imperial palaces of the Son of Heaven: when their cultivation reaches its utmost, not killing must be benevolence; not stealing must be integrity; not engaging in misconduct must be rectitude; not lying must be trustworthiness; not becoming intoxicated avoids confusion; not using frivolous speech must be sincere; not being double-tongued avoids slander; not speaking harshly avoids causing humiliation; not harboring wrath avoids enmity; not being jealous avoids contention; not being foolish avoids delusion. Having even one among these is enough to make oneself sincere and extend it to others; how much more so the completeness of the five precepts and ten virtuous actions! How could there be a younger brother who is not fraternal toward his elder brother, a son who is not filial toward his parents, a wife who does not respect her husband, friends who do not bring goodness to one another, a minister who is not loyal to his sovereign, or a sovereign who is not benevolent toward his people? There are none such in the world! Those who practice them fear only that excessive or deficient practice will become a fixation; how could the Buddha casually foster fixations in people? In this manner, how could the Buddha's Path be merely the private practice of a single person? Rather, it also holds regard for the world, the state, and the family! How could it ever fail to preserve ruler and minister, father and son? How could it hinder the way of giving life and nurturing people? It is only that its origination did not spread forth from magistrates, and the principle behind its transformation is hidden and difficult to see; thus worldly people are unable to believe it completely. The *Changes* says: 'Silently completing it, achieving trust without speaking: this resides in virtuous conduct.' Mencius says: 'The people daily shift toward goodness without knowing who brings it about.' Is it not so? People have long been deluded by passions; when passions become extreme, they nearly lead to ruin and depravity. The ancient sages grieved over this, and established their laws to govern sequentially, being called Emperors or being called Kings. Though their ways were varied, they still had not enough time to save them. They showed kindness to them through benevolence; they instructed them through righteousness. Rewards sought to advance their goodness; punishments sought to deter their evil. Yet while punishments grew daily more burdensome and rewards grew daily more costly, worldly customs only grew more depraved. If they had heard that without rewards and punishments one could obtain the people's shifting toward goodness and keeping far from evil, even sages like Yao and Shun would surely have rejoiced and welcomed it happily. Would they say: 'This person does not do good according to our way, so we will not accept his goodness; it must be through our way that one does good before it can be considered good'? If it were like this, then the sages would be appropriating the Way as their private property. How could the Way of the sages ever be private? When a swimming dragon stirs in the rivers and seas, clouds gather luxuriantly on all sides; when a fierce tiger roars in the mountain forests, gusting winds whistle forth. This is because like kinds naturally respond to one another. Thus the good person associates with good people without need of kinship; the evil person accommodates evil people without need of favor. Shun was fond of asking questions and examining ordinary remarks; he concealed evil and brought forward goodness. When he heard a single good word or saw a single good deed, it was like breaching the rivers and seas—a rushing torrent that nothing could check. When Yu heard a good word, he bowed. Confucius once remarked: 'A good person I have not been able to meet; if I could meet someone with constancy, that would suffice.' He also said: 'When three people walk together, there will surely be a teacher for me among them. I select what is good in them and follow it, and what is not good in them I correct.' When Yanzi attained a single good thing, he clasped it earnestly to his bosom and did not dare lose it. Mencius remarked: 'Delighting in goodness surpasses the whole world.' He also remarked: 'Making oneself sincere has a way: if one is not clear about goodness, one cannot make oneself sincere.' These five gentlemen were the ancient people who took great delight in goodness. Since their category of goodness was fundamentally of the same kind as the Buddha's, had they not died and could have seen the transmission of our Path, they would surely have followed and promoted it without hesitation. Alas, it is also the misfortune of later generations that they could not meet and verify each other, still causing the followers of the two traditions to hesitate and mistrust one another. Alas, it is human nature to always be devoted to oneself and slight others, affirming oneself and denying the other! When denying is excessive, contention arises; when devotion is excessive, narrowness arises. The gentleman merely understands comprehensively—why must he be arbitrarily devoted? The gentleman merely acts appropriately—why must he be arbitrarily dismissive? Eating, drinking, and sex—all people can know to value these, yet the gentleman does not value them. What the gentleman values is that he can know the Way and recognize principle. Now, when there is a Great Path and a profound principle like this, can I fail to know and recognize it?

I feel much shame before others. I once ventured to argue: If one wishes people to be sincerely convinced in mind and cultivate themselves, nothing compares to moving them from within. If one wishes people's words to be compliant and their outward demeanor to be obedient, nothing compares to regulating them from without. As for regulating them from without, if one does not establish teachings by means of the human way, one cannot effect it. As for moving them from within, if one does not establish teachings by means of the spiritual way, one cannot unfailingly transform them. Therefore, as for the Buddha's practice of the Way, he prioritized the spiritual and placed the human second; this was precisely what is meant by moving the within and regulating the without. By 'spiritual' (shen), I mean the human spirit (jingshen); it does not refer to the lewd and deluding affairs of ghosts and spirits. It means that when a person cultivates his spirit and makes his conduct good, in life blessings will respond, and in death his spirit will rise clear. If one's spirit is uncultivated and one's conduct deviant and false, in life there will be no auspiciousness, and in death one's spirit will suffer punishment. Therefore, when all under Heaven hear this, their minds are moved: the wicked are deterred and the good are encouraged. Through such silent transformation, in what era has this not been present? Yet when his teaching arose in China, it must have responded to the appropriate cosmic timing and arrived through the mutual resonance of human hearts. Otherwise, why would people cultivate themselves according to his Dharma, Heaven and Earth respond to it, and ghosts and spirits imitate it? If its fitting cosmic timing had not yet run out and the principle of mutual resonance had not been exhausted, how could one casually preserve it merely out of affection, or casually discard it out of hatred? Comparing it to human affairs, it is like kings or hegemons who act by following the times and responding to men; how could it be otherwise? How much more so when there are the marvelous Way and hidden expedients, which moreover extend into human affairs! The marvelous Way means purity and calm extinction. It means completely extinguishing all encumbrances and purifying one's inherent nature; it does not mean deadening one's life to take up empty devastation and annihilation. When one attains this to the utmost, one becomes a sage or a spirit, transcending this world. Hidden expedients mean using the Way to give rise to the application of non-application. It means rescuing all living beings and bringing them out of drowning in the passions. If we examine its transforming of things so that they transform themselves, the sovereign's way is close to it; if we examine its expedient use in responding to the world, there is nowhere it does not reach. Regarding its transformation, later generations indeed cannot attain it; regarding its expedients, if one silently embodies them, there is no age in which they cannot be realized. In antiquity, when the Sage was about to pass into extinction, he entrusted his Dharma to kings, ministers, elders, and men of power. This was not out of self-interest or a desire to artificially exalt himself among men; it was simply that he wished to enact the Way through their way, and to do good through their goodness. The Buddha's sūtras indeed have many methods. But the disciples of later ages have been unable to impart them appropriately to people, leading those who believe to believe excessively. This causes rulers with an infatuation with the good to readily wish to abandon the state and lower themselves to become slaves; and it causes worldly people of shallow awakening to abruptly wish to abandon their vocations and exclusively aspire to the loftiness of monks. This cannot be called using the Buddha's mind to practice the Way. Do not the sūtras say: 'All Buddhas preach the Dharma according to what is fitting; their intent is difficult to understand'? Therefore, practicing the Buddha's way does not merely consist in blackening one's robes and shaving one's hair! How could the Buddha's mind be so narrowly confined? Yet there are those who wish to criticize him as being like Yang Zhu and Mozi. Yang Zhu and Mozi were obstinate in one extreme and constrained by worldliness; to compare them to the Buddha—is that not going too far? People in the world do not probe into the Buddha's principles to scrutinize them in detail, but merely clamorously decry the Buddha as absurd, saying his words are uncanonical. The Buddha's vision surpassed ordinary people by far; how could one judge another's vision by what one cannot see oneself? Is it absurd to say that the Buddha speaks of many kalpas? In the world there is certainly the accumulation of months into years, and the accumulation of years into generations; how can one know that generations do not accumulate to become a kalpa? If one considers it untrue merely because the matter is distant and not in contact with one's ears and eyes, then as for the affairs of high antiquity spoken of in the Six Classics, without receiving their transmission today, who among us witnessed them firsthand? Can these be called absurd? Is it absurd to say that the Buddha's words are vast? In the world, there are indeed minds that wander soaring into the void; though the four corners, zenith, and nadir are boundless and dim, how could there be a boundary? When the Buddha says his worlds are limitless, why should it not be so? Is it absurd to say that the Buddha speaks of transformations? In the world, there are indeed dreams within dreams. When one is dreaming, the events one encounters and one's circumstances in the dream—some the same, some different—all resemble reality. Since there are dreams within a dream, how can one know there are no transformations within death? Since the Buddha's vision was far-reaching and his knowledge of things was extensive, the Sage broadened his teachings to instruct many kinds [of beings], wishing that there be nowhere they went where they were not transformed. Now it is said: 'The Buddha was a sage of the West; his Dharma is suited to barbarians and not to China.' This too is something earlier Confucians failed to reflect upon. 'Sage' is an appellation for one who possesses the great Way. How could there be someone possessing the great Way who may not be called a sage? And how could there be a sage's Way that cannot be practiced wherever it reaches? If one judges it solely on the grounds that the person came from barbarians: Shun was a man of the Eastern Yi, and King Wen was a man of the Western Yi, yet their Ways succeeded each other and were practiced in China; can one treat the persons as barbarians and therefore reject their Ways? What is more, the place from which the Buddha came was not barbarian! Someone might say: 'The Buddha only spoke of nature. As for nature, the Yijing and the Zhongyong have already discussed it; there is no use for the Buddha.' This is also not so. If our Buddha's discussion of nature is identical with the worldly books, then the sages shared the same nature. If they are the same, why reject it? And if they are different, how should we deal with it? When waters gather much of what is the same, they become deep rivers and seas; when soil gathers much of what is the same, it piles up into mountains and peaks; when great men gather much of what is the same, they broaden into virtue and the Way. Alas, how can I find many fellows of like mind, to make their minds equally sincere, to purify their bodies equally with fasts and precepts, and to extend virtue equally to others, so as to bring blessings to our parents and assist our sovereign in bringing peace to all under Heaven? Someone asked: 'Why are you so insatiable? Your kind fills all under Heaven in a disorderly swarm, not enrolled among the four classes of people. You merely boast of almsgiving and karmic retribution to feed and clothe yourselves off others. If you do not impoverish all under Heaven, that is already good fortune! How can you mend and govern the world, or bring blessings to sovereign and parents?' I replied: 'How unbending! Sit down, and I will tell you. Do you not know that within the gates of the ancient kings, they discussed virtue and righteousness rather than calculating manual labor? When the ancient kings regulated the people, they feared that the world would fall into decay and the people would mix in disorder, readily breeding chaos, and so they erected safeguards for them. Thus they divided the people into four classes, causing each to belong to its own category. How could this mean prohibiting people from using profit to confer kindness upon others? Take the Buddhists of today: in silence they are sincere; in speech they are good. Wherever they go, they use their Way to exhort people to abandon evil and turn toward the good. That their single robes and food rely on what others have in excess is not covetousness.

If someone is unable to be like this, the fault is that person's own; how could the Buddha's Dharma be in error? Mencius said: 'Here is a man who is filial at home and fraternal abroad, and who preserves the way of the ancient kings to await future learners, and yet he cannot obtain food from you. Why do you honor carpenters and carriage-makers, while disparaging those who practice benevolence and righteousness?' Is not Confucianism the same? Before Yao and Shun, the people were not divided into four classes; at that time, were all those people farmers and artisans? We have not heard that their food and necessities were insufficient. In the time of King Ping of Zhou, the well-field system was still maintained, yet the people were already exhausted and destitute. When Qin abolished the royal regulations, all under Heaven became even more disordered. At that time, neither the Buddha nor Laozi had yet appeared; could their teachings have been inflicted on the four classes of people to become a pestilence? For humans living between Heaven and Earth, their food and necessities probably have a predetermined share. Your anxiety for the world is too excessive, and your calculation for mankind is too narrow! As for karmic retribution: Confucians speak of auspicious omens and calamitous warnings, stating that 'the family that accumulates good will surely have an abundance of blessings; the family that accumulates evil will surely have an abundance of calamities.' This is already quite clear. As for what is called almsgiving: the Buddha held that when a person wishes to give and confer kindness, it must stem from a good mind. If the mind is truly good, when it matches auspicious omens, how could there not be a response? Who has spoken in vain? Relinquishing and bestowing kindness is truly difficult for human nature to accomplish. If one can indeed accomplish what is difficult to accomplish, is not one's goodness supreme? The Analects says: 'If there were one who gave broadly to the people and was able to aid the multitude, how would that be? Could he be called benevolent?' The Master said: 'Why merely benevolent? Surely he must be a sage! Even Yao and Shun would still fall short of it.' This means that even sages found it difficult, and feared they could not accomplish it. That the Buddha necessarily exhorted people with this was simply intended to release people from greed and stinginess, and to broaden their good minds. The world should examine whether one's giving to others is public-spirited or selfish; one should not arrogantly disparage the act of giving. When the rituals are to serve Heaven, Earth, ghosts, and spirits, even for a single day's sacrifice, there must be several days of fasting; this is because they wish people to make their minds sincere and purify their bodies, thereby praying for blessings to certainly come upon the world. Now, as for Buddhists, their minds are constantly sincere, and their fasting and precepts last their whole lives. Compared to the few days of fasting, their blessings will also arrive; how could they be entirely without benefit? The interlocutor said: 'A man has his chamber and a woman her home; preserving one's hair and skin intact to serve the physical form handed down by one's parents is the way of human relationships. Yet your kind violates this to practice your cultivation, aspiring transcendently to stand above all under Heaven. But how many actually cultivate it? In such confusion, how is it worth distinguishing them?' I said: 'Those who follow the Buddha fast, keep precepts, and cultivate their minds; they do not grasp at profit and righteousness, and even forget fame. When they reach the utmost, they penetrate to the spiritual and luminous. Their virtue is indeed supreme! When they extend their Way to others, there is no being they do not wish to improve; their Way is indeed vast! Repaying kindness through the Way, what kindness cannot be repaid? Continuing virtue through virtue, what virtue cannot be continued? Although one does not marry, one uses one's virtue to benefit one's parents; although one's physical form is outwardly damaged, one uses one's Way to rescue one's parents. Did not Taibo mutilate his body? Yet the Sage praised his virtue. Did not Boyi and Shuqi refrain from marrying and dwell forever in the mountain forests? Yet the Sage esteemed them as worthy. Mencius praised him, saying: 'Boyi was the pure one among the sages.' We have not heard that they were belittled for mutilating their bodies or remaining unmarried. Why do you find fault only with our disciples? The world has departed from the proper path for a long time. Even worthy fathers and elder brothers like Yao, Shun, and the Duke of Zhou could not necessarily restrain their sons and younger brothers. Today, we are increasingly distant from the time of the Buddha, and the teaching is entering its degenerate age; how could there not be corrupt people who lodge among us to live in indolence? Even with the Dharma, what can be done? In a vast forest, there are inevitably useless trees; in a vast field, there are inevitably unripened sprouts. One should simply straighten them; one must not abandon the Way on account of the person.' The interlocutor said: 'Your words and your teaching appear detailed and are truly worthy of esteem. However, the arguments distinguishing the teachings are all flourishing at present. In comparison, which is superior?' I said: 'I am an old fool. Teachings such as these are all the teachings of sages; how would a lesser person like me dare to presume to debate them? Yet Buddhism is my Way; of Confucianism, I have also secretly heard a little; as for Laozi, I have paid considerable attention. If I cannot help but speak of them: the various teachings are like wading across the same river, where hitching up the robes is deep or shallow. Confucians are sages who govern the mundane world; the Buddha is a sage who governs the supramundane world.'