鐔津文集 1.10.2

1.10.2

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?