by Ying-shih Yü
vannes, Le T’ ai Ch’ an (Paris: Leroux, 1910), chap. 6; Sakai Tadao
, “Taizan
shinko no kenkyû”
, Shichō
7, no. 2 (June 1937).
66. Due to space limitations, the following discussion is highly condensed. For a detailed
study, see my Chinese article, “Zhongguo gudai sihou shijie guan di yanbian”
, in Yanyuan lunxue ji
(Beijing: Beijing daxue, 1984),
177–196. SJ, 28.1367; Burton Watson, trans., Rec ords of the Grand Historian of China,
2 vols. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1961), 2:24.
67. This is rightly pointed out in Hu Sanxing’s
commentary on Zizhi tongjian
(Beijing: Zhonghua, 1956), 20.678.
68. Quoted in Fang Shiming
, “Zailun dijuan di jianbie”
, WW 8
(1979): 84. For more details of the transformation of the Lord of Mount Tai, see Oka-
moto Saburō
, “Taizan fukun no yurai ni tsuite”
,
Tōyōgaku kenkyū
1 (November 1943): 63–98.
69. We owe this information to a fragment of the Xiaojing yuanshen qi
, pre-
served in Zhang Hua’s
(232–300 c.e.) Bowu zhi; see Fan Ning
, ed., Bowu zhi
jiaozhu
(Beijing: Zhonghua, 1980), 12. This perhaps also explains why, as
recent archaeology amply shows, the Heavenly God was thought to send envoys to warn
underworld offi
cials of all levels that they must not harass the souls under their juris-
dictions. See Hayashi Minao
, “Kandai kijin no sekai”
, Tohō
gakuhō
, 46 (March 1974): 227–228 and 297–298n14. Obviously, Han Chinese
believed that the souls in the underworld were subject to the taxes and labor ser vices
demanded by underworld offi
cials. See the inscription from a Han tomb dated 173 c.e.
in Guo Moruo
, Nuli zhi shidai
(Beijing: Renmin, 1972), 94.
70. TPJHJ, 615; see also 598–599. In contrast to ancient Greece, the Chinese idea of post-
mortem punishment is a much later development. See Vermeule, Aspects of Death, 8,
and E. R. Dodds, The Greeks and the Irrational (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1951), 137, 150–151.
71. Lu Simian
, Qin- Han shi
, 2 vols. (Shanghai: Kaiming, 1947), 2:704–709.
72. HHS (Beijing: Zhonghua, 1965), 90.2980. It is impor tant to point out that here the
fragment of the Xiaojing yuanshen qi preserved in the Bowu zhi (see note 69 above) is
“o soul , c om e b ack ! ” 83
also quoted by the Tang commentator to support the statement of the HHS. The HHS
text says, “The hun- soul ( hunshen
) of the dead returns to Mount Tai,” and the com-
mentary, quoting Bowu zhi, says, “Mount Tai, the Grand son of the Heavenly God, is
responsible for summoning the human hun- souls” (90.2981). The two passages agree
with each other exactly.
73. HS (Beijing: Zhonghua, 1962), 33.2845.
74. For fu
and ting
as popu lar names of the governor’s and the magistrate’s offi
ces, re-
spectively, see vol. 1 of Yan Gengwang
, Zhongguo difang xingzheng zhidu shi
, part 1 (Taipei: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo, 1961), 216.
75. HS, 38.1991.
76. For the term “Gaoli” meaning underworld, see HS, 63.2761, and Yan Shigu’s commen-
tary on p. 2762. For Gaoli and Xiali in Han popu lar lit er a ture, especially in inscriptions,
on tombstones, see Wu Rongzeng
, “Zhenmuwen zhong suo jiandao di tong Han
Dao wu guanxi”
, WW 3 (1981): 59. In his Taoism and
Chinese Religion, trans. Frank A. Kierman Jr. (Amherst: University of Mas sa chu setts
Press, 1981), Henri Maspero gives a brief account of the Taishan Fuzhun in later Daoist
tradition in which the underworld is localized in “the hillock Haoli” (102–104). Here
“Haoli” is a variant reading of Gaoli. Though much distorted, this later tradition never-
theless shows unmistakable traces of its Han origin.
77. See some examples given in Wu Rongzeng, “Zhenmuwen,” 60–61. It has often been
pointed out that Han beliefs in the afterlife as revealed in the vast amount of literary
and archaeological sources are full of contradictions and inconsistencies. I would argue
that on the whole, the vari ous ideas about death rituals, Heaven, and Hell discussed
above make good sense if we keep in mind that in Han times people generally believed
not only in the separation of the hun and the po at death, but also in the possibility of
achieving xian immortality and ascension to Heaven. While contradictions and incon-
sistencies are certainly there, they do not invalidate or render meaningless the cluster of
Han beliefs we have been examining. On the contrary, there is every reason to think
that these beliefs occupied a central place in the daily life of Han Chinese irrespective of
their social status. Moreover, as recent religious studies in the West have shown, beliefs
in Heaven and the afterlife do not depend on logical consistency for their validity. On
this point, see Robert N. Bellah, “Chris tian ity and Symbolic Realism,” Journal for the
Scientifi c Study of Religion 9 (Summer 1970): 89–96, and Bradley R. Hertel, “Inconsis-
tency of Beliefs in the Existence of Heaven and Afterlife,” Review of Religious Research
21, no. 2 (Spring 1980): 171–183.
78. See Lu Shiheng wenji
, SBCK, 7.28.
79. See Ying- shih Yü, Trade and Expansion in Han China (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1967), 32–34.
80. See Liji zhushu, 47.14a– b, and Kong Yingda’s
Zhengyi
, in Zuozhuan zhushu,
Shisan jing zhushu (1815 edition), 44.13a–14a:
,
. [ After death]
the name of hun in life is changed to shen and that of po to gui.
81.
Lu Shilong wenji
, SBCK, 6.33. It may be pointed out that the HHS (90.2980)
also uses hun- shen
and shen- ling
interchangeably to refer to the hun- soul.
84 “o soul , c om e b ack ! ”
82. See the poem “Zeng congxiong Cheqi”
, in Lu Shiheng wenji, 5.18:
,
. Here ying
is a variant of hun. See Laozi, chap. 10.
83. Hu Shi shougao, eighth collection, 1:83–107.
84. Ibid . , 1:13–42. For the popu lar version of the “Ten Kings of the Underworld,” see An-
thony C. Yu, trans., The Journey to the West, 4 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1977), 1:110.
4. New Evidence on the Early Chinese Conception
of Afterlife
The spectacular discovery of the three Han tombs at Mawangdui in Chang-
sha, Hunan, in 1972–1974 was indeed an event of singular importance in
the history of Han studies. Of the three tombs, 1 and 3 in par tic u lar aroused
worldwide attention. Tomb 3 is known for its preservation of a large quantity of
silk manuscripts, some of which were long assumed lost. Tomb 1 made head-
line news at the time of its excavation, primarily for the well- preserved body of
i
ts occupant, the wife of the Marquis of Dai
, who prob ably died around 168
b.c.e. When the full report was published in 1973, it turned out that the tomb
was also unusually rich with furnishings of all sorts, including textiles, lac-
querware, musical instruments, pottery, inscribed bamboo slips, and food re-
mains. However, the single most signifi cant discovery from this tomb was that
of a polychrome painting on a silk banner that was presumably used in the fu-
nerary pro cessions of the dead. Since the painting reveals a great deal about
early Chinese my thol ogy, art, religion, and ritualism, it has been extensively
studied by specialists of several disciplines in China and Japan, as well as in the
West. It is also this painting that forms the core of Michael Loewe’s Ways to
Paradise: The Chinese Quest for Immortality (London: George Allen & Unwin,
1979).
In Ways to Paradise, Loewe examines three related subjects: the conception
of paradise as shown in the silk painting from Mawangdui; the Han views of
the cosmos as revealed in the so- called TLV mirrors, which were particularly in
86 t h e e a r l y c h ine s e c once p t ion of a f t er l ife
fashion between about 50 b.c.e. and 100 or 150 c.e.; and the rise of the cult of
the Queen Mother of the West since the later part of the Former Han dynasty.
There is nevertheless a common thread that runs through all three separate
subjects of this study, namely, “the under lying beliefs of the Han Chinese re-
garding death and the hereafter” (vii). It is also this unifying theme that makes
the reading of Ways to Paradise an extremely thought- provoking experience.
As is customary with all his scholarly writings, Dr. Loewe’s treatment of
each of the three topics in the book is careful, thorough, detailed, and techni-
cal. He uses every bit of literary and historical evidence at his disposal to make
the other wise silent archaeological data talk, often sensibly. It is also commend-
able that the author occasionally brings a comparative perspective into this
study. In chapter 5, for instance, the symbols of the bird and the hare in other
mythologies are compared as well as contrasted with the Chinese case. The
result is both fruitful and illuminating.
In my opinion, the discovery of the silk painting and other related funerary
objects in the Mawangdui tombs is of revolutionary importance to the study of
religious thought in ancient China. For the fi rst time, we have unmistakable
and direct evidence that testifi es fully as well as vividly to the indigenous
Chinese imagination of death and afterlife in pre- Buddhist antiquity. The dom-
inant modern theory that there was no “other world” in Chinese thought until
the advent of Buddhism is thus proved to be untenable. For example, the late
Dr. Hu Shih held Buddhism responsible for giving Chinese the idea of tens of
heavens and many hells.1 Recently, Dr. Joseph Needham also expressed a similar
view.2 According to him, there was no heaven or hell in ancient Chinese thought;
this was altered only after the permeation of Buddhism. It is one thing to say that
the indigenous Chinese conception of heaven or hell is diff er ent from its Bud-
dhist counterpart, but it is quite another matter to suggest that the idea of heaven
or hell was totally alien to the Chinese mind. Now, thanks to the Mawangdui
discovery, this prob lem has been fundamentally solved.
Loewe agrees with most scholars that the silk painting is a description of
the pilgrimage of the soul of Lady Dai to Heaven. In light of a similar painting
found in Mawangdui Tomb 3, this identifi cation may be considered as fi rmly
established. Interestingly enough, Tomb 3 also provides us with an impor tant
piece of evidence concerning the Han Chinese belief in the underworld. There
is a document on wood written in the name of a “ Family Assistant” ( jiacheng
) of the Marquis of Dai and addressed to an offi
cial in charge of the dead
( zhuzang langzhong
[ ]
) in the underworld. It may be translated as
follows: “On wuchen [twenty-
fourth] day, second month, the twelfth year
[of Emperor Wen’s reign, 168 b.c.e.], House hold Assistant Fen
to the lang-
zhong in charge of the dead: ‘A list of mortuary objects is herewith forwarded to
you. Upon receiving this document, please memorialize without delay to the
Lord of the Grave (Zhuzang Jun
[ ]
).’ ”3 Clearly, here House hold As-
sistant Fen is notifying his counterpart in the underworld bureaucracy of the
t h e e a r l y c h ine s e c once p t ion of a f t er l ife 87
arrival of the newly deceased. Recent archaeology has shown that the belief in
an underworld bureaucracy taking care of the departed souls was already wide-
spread in China by the second century b.c.e. In 1975, two similar pieces of evi-
dence were found in Han Tombs 10 and 168, respectively, at Fenghuang Shan,
Jiangling, Hubei. The document from Tomb 168, dated the thirteenth of the
fi fth month, 167 b.c.e., was issued in the name of the Assistant Magistrate of Ji-
angling (Jiangling Cheng
) and sent to the Underworld Assistant (Dixia
Cheng
) . As in the Mawangdui case, this Han local offi
cial of Jiangling
was also notifying his counterpart of the immigration of the occupant of the
tomb, a man under his jurisdiction, to the underworld and requesting that the
case be reported in due course to the Lord (Zhu
). The document from Tomb
10, dated 153 b.c.e., is of a slightly diff er ent form. It was a memorial presented di-
rectly to the underworld Lord (Dixia Zhu
) by the deceased named Zhang
Yan
.4 There can be little doubt that this underworld Lord (Dixia Zhu), or
Lord of the Dead (Zhuzang Jun), was the pre de ces sor of the famous Lord of
Mount T’ai (Taishan Fujun
) of the later Han Period, who was to be,
eventually, transformed into one of the ten kings or judges of Buddhist hells.
At this point, however, an in ter est ing question arises: Why was it that, as
shown especially in the case of the Mawangdui Tomb No. 3, the ancient
Chinese made arrangements for the departed soul to go to heaven and the un-
derworld at the same time? The answer may best be sought from the dualistic
Chinese view of the soul. As Loewe rightly points out, the Chinese of the Han
Period distinguished two souls in every individual human being, the hun
and the po
. The hun was characterized as yang
— male and active— and
the po as yin
— female and receptive. Moreover, it was also believed that at
death, the hun and the po separated, with the result that the former went to
paradise and the latter to the underworld (see 9–10). This idea, it may be
pointed out, is most clearly formulated in a passage in the Liji (Classic of Rites) :
“the soul- breath ( hunqi
) returns to Heaven; the bodily substance ( xingpo
) returns to earth. Therefore, in sacrifi ce- off ering, one should seek the
meaning in the princi ples of yin and yang” (“Jiao te sheng
/>
”). Although
this par tic u lar formulation is of Han date, the idea itself can be traced back to
a statement of Prince Jizha
of Wu
made in 515 b.c.e.5
The evolution of the hun and po in the mind of pre- Han China is a long and
complicated story, which cannot be fully told here. Suffi
ce it to say that, origi-
nally, the term po alone had been used by the primitive Chinese to denote the
“soul.” Etymologically, po means white, whiteness, or bright light and prob ably
derives from the growing light of the new moon. In the Shujing or Shangshu
(Book of History) as well as in many Zhou bronze inscriptions, we often en-
counter the expressions jishengba
( ba being a variant of po), meaning
“ after the birth of the crescent,” and jisiba
, meaning “ after the death of
the crescent.” As Hu Shih rightly observed, “the primitive Chinese seem to
have regarded the changing phases of the moon as periodic birth and death
88 t h e e a r l y c h ine s e c once p t ion of a f t er l ife
of its po, its ‘white light’ or soul.” 6 On the other hand, textual evidence seems to
suggest that it was from the middle of the sixth century b.c.e. onward that the
idea of hun began to gain currency and eventually replaced po as the more
impor tant and active part of the soul.
This primitive association of the soul with the growing light of the new
moon is of tremendous importance to our understanding of certain myths re-
lated to the seventh day of the months discussed in the Ways to Paradise. As a
matter of fact, it is a key to both the story of the Weaving Maid and the Oxherd
and that of the Queen Mother of the West. As the two Han stories go, the an-
nual meeting of Emperor Wu of Han with the Queen Mother of the West took
place on the seventh day of the fi rst month and that between the Weaving Maid
and the Oxherd on the seventh day of the seventh month. Loewe is certainly
correct in seeing the two stories as part of a much larger myth— one that “saw
the continuity of the universe as depending on two annual meetings that took
place in summer and winter” (119). On the authority of Kominami Ichirō, he
further calls our attention to the in ter est ing fact that in light of early Japa nese
folklore, “the importance of the seventh day of the month lay partly in its func-
tion as marking the phases of the moon” (120). This is indeed an insightful