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A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy

Page 79

by Wing-Tsit Chan


  Answer: Yes. But I do not know how you can foretell that this thing remains forever. Both heaven and earth are destructible. How can you foretell that this thing is permanent and will not be extinct?

  Question: They probably want to regard Emptiness as the substance. They say that heaven, earth, and all things will finally be reduced to Emptiness. This Emptiness is their substance.

  Answer: They do not want to regard Emptiness as substance either. They merely say that the inside of this thing is fundamentally empty and not a single thing can be attached to it. (60:16b-l7a)

  145. Asked about the Buddhist practice of meditation and the Taoist practice of counting breath, the Teacher said: All they want is tranquillity, so that they will not err in their response to and dealing with things. Mencius also wanted to preserve the restorative influence of the night. But in order to do so, one has to pay attention to what he does during the day, [for if the originally good mind is disturbed by what one does during the day, the restorative influence of the night will not be sufficient to preserve the proper goodness of the mind].216

  Question: Why don’t we Confucianists imitate them in doing these?

  Answer: [It is useless], for as soon as they open their eyes from meditation, what they try to get hold of is again gone from them as before. They just stubbornly cling to it. It is not as good as our Confucian ways of not seeing, hearing, speaking or acting what is contrary to propriety,217 being cautious over what one does see and apprehensive over what one does not hear,218 and being serious to straighten the internal life and righteous to square the external life.219 They want to block everything from the outside.

  Question: Is it correct that the Buddhists merely refrain from seeing and hearing as such and make no effort whatever [to avoid] what is contrary to propriety?

  Answer: Yes.

  Thereupon Ts’ai Chi-t’ung220 said: Things in the world must be handled by men. If we sit in meditation like them, what can be done? The sun and moon must circulate, and heaven and earth must rotate. The Teacher said: In not circulating and not rotating, the Buddhists are of course wrong. Here we do circulate; we do rotate. But in our circulation and rotation we make mistakes. Now we are happy for no reason and are angry for no reason. Is that not a mistake? They go to the excess, while nowadays people do not go far enough [in the control of the mind]. (60:21a-b)

  146. The I-Shu (of Master Ch’eng Hao) says that the Buddhists have the teaching of exerting the mind to the utmost and knowing the nature but do not have the teaching of preserving the mind and nourishing the nature221 [whereas Mencius taught all four].222 I am afraid there is some mistake in the record of the conversation. Generally speaking, the Buddhists merely see a little bit of the shadow of the mind and the nature in a confused situation and have not been able to see in detail the mind and the nature in their reality and concreteness. That is why they do not see the many moral principles inherent in them. Even223 if they have made an effort at preserving and nourishing, they can only preserve and nourish the shadow they see. Of course we cannot say that they see nothing. Nor can we say that they cannot nourish anything. But what they see and nourish is not the reality of the mind or the nature. (60:-30a-b)

  147. Although there is a slight resemblance between the doctrines of the Buddhists and our own Confucian doctrines, they are really what is called similar in appearance but different in spirit, or appearing to be so but actually not. This must be clearly understood. Master Ming-tao (Ch’eng Hao) said, “Every sentence [of theirs] is similar [to ours] and every thing fits in. But we are different.”224 This is really very interesting. If he had not seen the matter very closely, how did he dare pass a judgment like this?

  In what the Confucian School calls hearing the Way,225 hearing merely means to see, hear, reflect, brood over and acquire the Way by oneself, and the Way is simply the self-evident principle governing the daily activities in the relations between ruler and minister and father and son [and so forth]. There is nothing deep, mysterious, or unfathomable in them similar to what the Buddhists describe as a wide and far-reaching great awakening or the whole body sweating. Now there is no need to devote one’s effort elsewhere but to hold fast to seriousness in order to investigate things. People today often misinterpret the Confucian saying, “(Standing), let a man see (truthful words and serious action) in front of him, (riding in a carriage), let him see them attached to the yoke,”226 and have therefore repeatedly drifted into Buddhist doctrines. When the ancient Sage said this, he merely meant for us “to be surely loyal and faithful in our words and surely earnest and serious in our action”227 and for us not to forget in every moment of our thoughts, but to seem to see these two things at all times and in all places without allowing them to get away from our minds or our eyes. Taking the sayings “Seeing Emperor Yao228 in the soup” and “Seeing Emperor Yao on the wall,”229 does it mean that my mind sees itself as another thing outside of myself? The substance of the mind is originally without thought or activity. Before it is acted on by external things, it has the ability to remain so. When acted on, it immediately penetrates all things. I am afraid it is not like what you have described.230 As to your contention that in Zen, entering into meditation is to cut off thought and to reveal the Principle of Nature completely, that is especially wrong. When thinking is correct, there is the Principle of Nature. In all operations and functioning, there is none which is not a revelation of the Principle of Nature. Does it need to wait to have all thoughts cut off before the Principle of Nature can be revealed? Furthermore, what is this that we call the Principle of Nature? Are humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom (the four moral qualities natural to man) not the Principle of Nature? Are the five human relations between ruler and minister, between father and son, between old and young, between husband and wife, and between friends not the Principle of Nature? If the Buddhists have really seen the Principle of Nature, why should they violate and confuse [truth] like this, destroy everything, and darken and delude their original mind without realizing it themselves? All these (Buddhistic doctrines) are great defects of recent generations which have fallen and degenerated into depraved doctrines. I am surprised that an enlightened person (like you) cannot avoid the popular trend and express such ideas. (60:31a-32a)

  Comment. Chu Hsi’s knowledge of Buddhism was very superficial and in saying that Buddhist ideas came from the Chuang Tzu and the Lieh Tzu, for example, he revealed both his prejudice and ignorance.231 But his attack on Buddhism was more comprehensive than his predecessors’, for he criticized Buddhism from all points of view—ethical, theoretical, practical, historical, and textual.232 In his philosophical criticism, he concentrated on two points, namely that the Buddhists divide the mind into two so that one examines the other,233 and that the Buddhists identify the mind with nature, thus leading to the erroneous conclusion that the world is empty. The first criticism may well be applied to the Neo-Confucian doctrine of self-examination itself, which Chu Hsi advocated. As to the second, Chu Hsi had in mind that to the Buddhists only the mind in its pure consciousness can be called nature whereas all phenomena, being imagination of the mind, are devoid of true nature. On the other hand, to the Confucianists, all things have their nature. There is no question whether they have nature or not but only whether nature is balanced or not. Therefore he said the Buddhist position is empty but the Confucian position is concrete. Actually he confused the Buddhist single meaning of nature as true reality and the Confucian twofold meaning of nature as both consciousness and physical nature. He also ignored the fact that, in the Hua-yen School of Buddhism, principle and facts are harmonized so that no fact needs to be sacrificed for the sake of principle.234

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  DYNAMIC IDEALISM IN WANG YANG-MING

  The dynamic idealism of Wang Yang-ming (Wang Shou-jen, 1472-1529)1 dominated China during his lifetime and for 150 years thereafter. Confucius, Mencius, Chu Hsi (1300-1200) and others have exerted stronger influence on Chinese thought, but they h
ad prominent rivals whereas Wang shone alone.

  The reason for his strong impact lies in the dynamic quality of his philosophy. It was the result of the unhealthy state of Chu Hsi’s philosophy, on the one hand, and the bitterness of Wang’s own life and time, on the other.

  Since 1313 Chu Hsi’s interpretation of Confucianism had been made orthodox and the basis of the civil service examinations. Its spirit of rational inquiry and genuine search for fundamental principles had, by Wang’s time, degenerated into trifling with what Wang called “fragmentary and isolated details and broken pieces.” What was worse, the examinations were no longer an avenue for serving the people and bringing peace to the world but for personal profit and success. To Wang, the source of the trouble was the erroneous theory of the investigation of things propagated by Ch’eng I (Ch’eng I-ch’uan, 1033-1107) and Chu Hsi. In insisting that every blade of grass and every tree possesses principle and therefore should be investigated,2 the theory diverted people from the basic principles of things and the fundamentals of life. Moreover, by saying that the mind should go to things to investigate the principles inherent in them, the theory considered things as external and separated the mind and principle. As a result, according to Wang, the mind lost its direction and its motivating power. If principles were outside the mind, he said, then the principle of filial piety and therefore the desire to be filial would cease to be as soon as the parents die.3 To him, principle and the mind are one and the principle of filial piety is nothing but the exercise of the mind. Things (and affairs), too, are not external, for they are likewise inside the mind.

  By the mind Wang meant essentially the will. There would be no principle or things unless the mind were determined to realize it. This is the reason why Wang insisted that the sincerity of the will must precede the investigation of things. In this he directly opposed Chu Hsi who shifted the chapters of the Great Learning so that that on the investigation of things comes before that on the sincerity of the will. Wang rejected this rearrangement and returned to the old text as it is found in the Book of Rites where the chapter on the sincerity of the will comes first.

  The fundamental difference between Chu and Wang lies in the fact that while Chu’s approach is intellectual, Wang’s is moral. Chu Hsi interpreted the term ko-wu as the rational and objective investigation of things, but Wang preferred to interpret it to mean to “eliminate what is incorrect in the mind so as to preserve the correctness of its original substance.”4 That is to say, to investigate things or affairs is to do good and to remove evil.5

  Actually Wang’s theory is entirely subjective and confuses reality with value. It is difficult to accept his version of ko-wu, for if the term means to rectify the mind, why should it be ko-wu (to ko things) instead of ko-hsin (to ko the mind)? His interpretation is of course based on the theory that the mind and things are one. But this theory of his is founded on very shaky grounds. When he was asked what the mind has to do with blossoming trees on the high mountains, he merely answered that their colors show up when you look at them.6 The point, however, is that his whole emphasis is on moral values. He was convinced that if the mind is divided or devoted to external things, it will be concerned only with fragmentary details and will lack the essentials. Scholars with such a mind will trifle with things and lose their purpose in life. For him this was the reason for the decline of the Confucian teachings, which in turn brought on the intellectual, political, and moral decay of his time.

  What was Wang’s remedy for this sad situation? The remedy is his greatest contribution to Chinese philosophy, namely, the doctrine of the extension of the innate knowledge of the good (chih liang-chih). The idea of the extension of knowledge comes from the Great Learning7 and the idea of innate knowledge of the good from Mencius.8 Wang’s theory is not merely a combination of the two but it gives them a new meaning which gives a new complexion to Chinese thought.

  Wang describes innate knowledge as “the original substance of the mind,” “the Principle of Nature,” “the pure intelligence and clear consciousness of the mind,” the mind that is “always shining” and reflects things as they come without being stirred, the spirit of creation, which “produces heaven, earth, spiritual beings and the Lord,” and “man’s root which is intelligent. . . . It naturally grows and grows without cease.”9 In short, it is the Principle of Nature (T’ien-li), which is not only the principle of right and wrong but also the principle that naturally extends. The mind in its original substance naturally knows the principle of filial piety, for example, when one sees one’s parents, and naturally extends it into action.

  This leads to another major contribution he made to Chinese philosophy, namely, the doctrine of the unity of knowledge and action. The Confucianists have always stressed the correspondence and equal importance of knowledge and action,10 but Wang was the first to identify them as one. According to him, knowledge is the beginning of action and action the completion of knowledge.11 No one really knows food unless he has tasted it, he argued. He was thinking only of a particular kind of knowledge, but his total emphasis on the will is clear. In his doctrine of the identity of the mind and principle, he was following Lu Hsiang-shan (Lu Chiu-yüan, 1139-1193), but in his doctrine of the unity of knowledge and action, he offered something neither Lu nor anyone else in Chinese history ever thought of. Ordinarily the idealistic movement in Neo-Confucianism is called the Lu-Wang School, in contrast to the rationalistic Ch’eng-Chu School. But it was Wang’s doctrines, rather than Lu’s, that had the tremendous impact in the Ming dynasty (1368-1644). His doctrines demand forthright, direct, and spontaneous action.

  As said before, his philosophy is partly a product of the bitterness of his own life and time. China in the fifteenth century was externally harassed by semi-nomadic tribes in the north. Internally, China was ruled by incompetent rulers who allowed eunuchs to usurp power and to suppress scholars. Great domains were established for court favorites and members of the imperial family. Heavy taxes drove many people to become bandits. Even a prince was in revolt. The cultural brilliancy and economic prosperity of the first half of the Ming dynasty had turned into decadence and chaos. Many scholars struggled hard to find a solution but were persecuted for so doing.

  Wang had a searching mind from his youth. It is said that on his wedding day, he became so absorbed in talking to a Taoist priest about everlasting life that he did not go home until the next morning. At first he studied military crafts. In 1492 he began to study Chu Hsi’s philosophy. Following Chu Hsi’s doctrine of the investigation of things, he and a friend sat in front of bamboos to try to investigate their principles, only to become ill after seven days. After trying the writing of flowery compositions, he went back to military crafts and then to Taoist techniques of nourishing everlasting life. Only after having found all these to be futile did he return to Confucianism.

  He started his official career at twenty-eight. In the next several years he developed his own philosophy and began to attract disciples. He lectured on the primary importance of making up one’s mind to become a sage, and he severely attacked the current habits of recitation and flowery compositions. This did not please the rulers or conservative scholars. In 1506, when he protested the imprisonment of a scholar official by a powerful eunuch, he was beaten forty times before the emperor and then banished to modern Kueichow which was then inhabited by aborigines. There, having to face in isolation political, natural, as well as cultural hardships, he was driven to search within his own mind. One night in 1508, he suddenly understood the doctrine of the investigation of things and the extension of knowledge. A year later, he realized the unity of knowledge and action. Later, in 1514-1516, when he was an official at Nanking, his fame spread and many scholars became his followers, including one of his superior officials. But his radical doctrines, including his insistence on following the old text of the Great Learning instead of the one rearranged by Chu Hsi, attracted more and more criticism. From 1516 to 1519 he was ordered to suppress several rebellions
, which he successfully did. But the combination of his blunt personality, his attack on orthodoxy, and his novel ideas worked against him. Instead of being rewarded for his accomplishments, he became persona non grata. From 1521 to 1527 he was in virtual retirement in his native place. Hundreds of scholars from all over China came to him. It was in 1521, when he was fifty, that he arrived at the doctrine of the extension of innate knowledge which culminated his philosophy, and it was about 1527, a little over a year before his death, that he wrote down the Inquiry on the Great Learning which embodies virtually all of his major doctrines. During this last decade of his life, attack and ridicule on him grew in extent and intensity, but they only served to reinforce his search for fundamental values. As he said, his doctrines were “achieved from a hundred deaths and a thousand sufferings.”12 This is why he demanded determination, firm purpose, self-examination and self-mastery, “always be doing something,” “polishing and training in the actual affairs of life,” and realization of truth through personal experience.

  Both his teachings and technique are new and challenging. But his final goal—forming one body with all things—and his basic value—humanity (jen)—are typically Confucian. He has many similarities with Zen Buddhism and has been attacked for centuries because of this, but any superficial similarity is far outweighed by his stress on active involvement in human affairs and a dynamic approach to the mind.

  His influence extended to Japan where his school, known as the Yōmeigaku, rivaled the Chu Hsi School (Shushigaku) from the seventeenth through the nineteenth century and provided strong leadership for the Meiji Restoration in 1868. In China itself, Wang’s followers disagreed on their interpretations of his teachings, especially on the meaning of innate knowledge. This led to division and confusion. Moreover, some of his followers became socially uncomformative and intellectually undisciplined. In many cases they even committed evil in the name of innate knowledge. Many historians have gone too far in blaming the collapse of the Ming dynasty on his degenerated followers, but there is no doubt that the Wang School had allowed the pitfalls of an unorthodox system to spoil itself. However, the dynamic quality and the purposefulness of his philosophy appealed to modern thinkers like Sun Yat-sen (1866-1925), T’an Szu-t’ung (1865-1898), and Hsiung Shih-li (1885—).13 As in the fifteenth century, the contemporary situation, in the eyes of many, requires a solution that only a dynamic and idealistic system like Wang’s can offer.

 

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