by Ying-shih Yü
tinged concept of the Way” needed purifi cation that Qing philologists urged
people to return to the original sources of the classics. In the second place,
none of the phi los o phers of the Taizhou school before Jiao Hong, from Wang
Gen to Luo Rufang and Li Zhi, ever displayed any interest in kaozheng scholar-
ship. Obviously, the source of Jiao Hong’s philological approach to the classics
lay elsewhere.
I also wish to take this opportunity to clarify my own view on the subject as
twice quoted in Ch’ien’s paper. First, in an earlier paper of mine, I did not simply
identify “intellectualism” with the Cheng- Zhu school as Ch’ien seems to sug-
gest (293–294). Nor did I equate the Lu- Wang school with “anti- intellectualism.”
All I said is that there was a tension between anti- intellectualism and intellectu-
alism in the Neo- Confucian tradition, which resulted, respectively, from the
Lu- Wang school’s emphasis on zun dexing
(honoring the moral nature)
366 in t e l le c t ua l t r a nsi t ion in s e v e n t e e n t h - ce n t ury c h ina and the Cheng- Zhu school’s emphasis on dao wenxue
(following the path
of inquiry and study). In the original Neo- Confucian context, however, these two
aspects are mutually complementary. Zun dexing implies, above all, the awaken-
ing of moral faith through the understanding of our true nature, which partakes
of the moral quality of Dao. On the other hand, dao wenxue implies that every
advancement in objective knowledge, which is supposed to possess a built-in
moral quality, is a step further toward the awakening of moral faith. Hence, gen-
erally speaking, zun dexing and dao wenxue may be understood, respectively, as
the moral and intellectual ele ments in Neo- Confucianism.
It is easy to understand why “following the path of inquiry and study” ( dao
wenxue) would give rise to intellectualism. The inner connection between
“honoring the moral nature” ( zun dexing) and anti- intellectualism needs a
word of explanation, however. This is the case because there was a group of
Neo- Confucianists, represented mainly by the Lu- Wang school, who held the
view that recovery of the moral nature of man comes solely from cultivation of
“moral knowledge” ( dexing zhi zhi
), which deals with a higher realm
beyond the reach of ordinary “intellectual knowledge” ( wenjian zhi zhi
,
lit. “knowledge from hearing and seeing”). Developing this view to its ex-
treme, one would even say that intellectual knowledge is a hindrance to moral
cultivation of the self. It was mainly on this ground that many of the immedi-
ate followers of Wang Yangming became anti- intellectual.25 In the history of
Neo- Confucianism, however, the Ming Period is characteristically an age of
zun dexing with a clear subordination of knowledge to moral cultivation. In
the early Ming, even the Cheng- Zhu school also showed a tendency toward
anti- intellectualism. Not until the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centu-
ries did the Neo- Confucian pendulum gradually but steadily swing back to
the intellectualistic side. So when I talked about “intellectualism” and “anti-
intellectualism,” I was not exactly thinking in sectarian terms of the Cheng- Zhu
and the Lu- Wang. Rather, I was referring to a fundamental transformation in
one of the Neo- Confucian assumptions that aff ected all its adherents irre-
spective of schools.
Second, I did not suggest, as Ch’ien says, that Jiao Hong’s interest in philo-
logical scholarship is a “result” of his “intellectualism” (296). My original sug-
gestion was that Jiao Hong may be fruitfully viewed as a transitional fi gure
whose intellectual life is highly symbolic of the Neo- Confucian transition from
zun dexing to dao wenxue, or, if properly understood, from “anti- intellectualism”
to “intellectualism.”26 He was bringing the age of zun dexing to an end when he
developed his “philosophical pluralism” in terms of “ union of the Three Teach-
ings in one,” which was to be rejected by virtually all the leading Neo-
Confucianists of the early Qing such as Gu Yanwu, Huang Zongxi, and Wang
Fuzhi. But he was ushering in a new age of dao wenxue when he engaged in
philological exercises that, from the point of view of the School of the Mind,
would be totally unrelated to the recovery of one’s moral nature. Whether Jiao
in t e l le c t ua l t r a nsi t ion in s e v e n t e e n t h - ce n t ury c h ina 367
Hong’s thought is self- consistent is a matter of interpretation. However, the
undeniable fact remains that his intellectual life is not completely consistent
with either Ming metaphysics or Qing philology.
In the same sense that Jiao Hong is a transitional fi gure, the thought and
scholarship of Fang Yizhi
(1611–1671) also bears marks that are charac-
teristically transitional. Before the fall of Beijing in 1644, he had already basi-
cally completed his opus magnum in kaozheng scholarship, the monumental
Tongya
(Comprehensive Studies). However, in the last twenty years of his
life as a Buddhist monk, due largely to changed circumstances, he turned to
preach the gospels of “ union of the Three Teachings in one” in his own way.
Evidence clearly shows that this syncretist ele ment in his thinking was a family
inheritance. His maternal grand father, Wu Yingbin
, was a disciple of
Lin Zhao-en
(1517–1598), the “Master of Three Teachings,”27 but the
simple fact that he was born seventy years later than Jiao Hong made an impor-
tant diff erence: Jiao Hong lived in the beginning of the transition, whereas
Fang Yizhi lived at the end of it. This explains, at least in part, why Fang’s phi-
lology was enthusiastically received throughout the Qing Period while his phil-
osophical ideas quickly fell into oblivion. By contrast, it was Jiao’s lectures on
Neo- Confucian metaphysics that attracted the audience, in Huang Zongxi’s
words, “like torrents fl owing toward the bed.”28 It is also impor tant to know that
Fang Yizhi’s interest in philology remained with him to the end of his life. As
Peterson points out, “Fang as a monk had not repudiated his former endeavors
even though he did not continue to pursue them” (376). It may be further
noted, however, that it was lack of books rather than unwillingness on his part
that had prevented Fang from continuing to pursue philological studies in his
monastic life.29 Moreover, Fang as a Buddhist monk was still so deeply con-
cerned with Confucian scholarship that he formulated a thesis for the Neo-
Confucian Acad emy at Qingyuan that says, “the study of li (princi ple) consists
in the study of the classics” ( cang lixue yu jingxue
).30 It is indeed
amazing that Fang’s formulation, apparently arrived at in de pen dently, bears a
family resemblance to the famous thesis of Gu Yanwu’s, “the study of li (princi-
ple) is the study of the classics” ( jingxue ji lixue
), almost as close as
identical twins. This may be taken as a sure indication that the Neo- Confucian
movement of “following the pa
th of inquiry and study” ( dao wenxue) was now
well under way.
Peterson’s study focuses on Fang’s relationship with Western Learning as
introduced to China by Jesuit missionaries. Nevertheless, it bears signifi cantly
on the Ming- Qing intellectual transition by relating Fang’s approach to West-
ern Learning to the prob lem of gewu
(investigation of things). Peterson is
on fi rm ground when he states, “Fang Yizhi was part of a movement under way
in the seventeenth century which directed the attentions of scholars away from
prevailing interpretations of gewu to what became known as Qing learning”
(369). A careful comparison of Wang Yangming’s theory of gewu with Fang’s
368 in t e l le c t ua l t r a nsi t ion in s e v e n t e e n t h - ce n t ury c h ina inclusive defi nition of wu has led Peterson to conclude that coming more than
a century after Wang Yangming had dismissed “ things of the world” as un-
worthy of investigation compared with what was to be found within our minds,
Fang’s defi nition of wu is part of his attempt to reinvest “ things” with intel-
lectual signifi cance. (278) More impor tant, through his case study of Fang
Yizhi, Peterson has succeeded in establishing a historical link between Ming
metaphysics and Qing philology. “In addition to redirecting the goal of gewu,”
Peterson says: “Fang was involved in the development of a new interpretation of
the proper means of acquiring knowledge. His stress on accumulating items of
knowledge and its opposition to introspection as a method anticipate two of the
characteristics of the School of Evidential Research ( kaozheng xue
)
which rose to prominence in Qing” (400). Viewed from this perspective, Fang
Yizhi provides us with one of the best illustrations of the rise of Qing Confu-
cian intellectualism.
Elsewhere I have suggested that “the intellectual transition from the Ming
to the Qing is characterized mainly by a shift of emphasis in Neo- Confucianism
from the moral ele ment to the intellectual ele ment.”31 Fang Yizhi’s redirecting
of gewu at that which is external to our minds is precisely such a shift of em-
phasis. In this connection, we may also cite Liu Zongzhou’s view of “intellec-
tual knowledge” as another example. Since Wang Yangming, the distinction
between “moral knowledge” and “intellectual knowledge” had been stressed in
such a way as to take “intellectual knowledge” to be at best morally irrelevant.
Deeply dissatisfi ed with this extreme anti- intellectualism, Liu rejected the
distinction as false. According to him, man’s moral consciousness not only is
inseparable from his intellectual nature but also depends on it for operation.32
As the late Professor Tang Junyi rightly observed, Liu emphasized classical and
historical studies much more than Wang Yangming and his direct disciples
had. Therefore, the transition from Liu as a moral teacher to Huang Zongxi as
a Confucian scholar is easily understandable (327).
From the point of view of internal interpretation, the growth of Qing classi-
cal and historical scholarship may be explained in a number of ways. The jingshi
trend, discussed earlier, is one, and the introduction of textual evidence into
metaphysical debates is another. However, in view of the cases of Fang Yizhi and
Liu Zongzhou, perhaps none is more fundamental than the fact that the Confu-
cian spirit of “inquiry and study” ( dao wenxue), which had been suppressed all
too long, was actively seeking ways for self- expression. As vividly exemplifi ed by
the new direction of Fang Yizhi’s gewu, the transition from zun dexing to dao
wenxue actually went hand in hand with the Neo- Confucian transformation from
quietism to activism as well as from inwardness to outwardness.
Fi nally, the three valuable studies on late Ming Buddhism by Araki, Wu, and
Greenblatt also deepen our understanding of the Neo- Confucian transition. As
de Bary points out in the preface, Buddhist revival in the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries was largely a response to a strong stimulus of the Wang Yang-
in t e l le c t ua l t r a nsi t ion in s e v e n t e e n t h - ce n t ury c h ina 369
ming school, and therefore refl ected Neo- Confucian tendencies. The compli-
cated relationships between Buddhism and Neo- Confucianism since the time
of Wang Yangming are clearly delineated in Araki’s essay. The general situa-
tion is summed up admirably well in an in ter est ing remark by the eminent
monk Ouyi Zhixu
(1599–1655) that “The rise or fall of the Buddha
Dharma is contingent upon the rise or fall of Confucianism” (54). This com-
pletely confi rms the keen observation of the great late Qing scholar Shen Zeng-
zhi on this matter.33 Araki’s characterization of the Buddhist faith during this
period as “closely linked to the everyday world” (56) shows that Buddhism, like
Neo- Confucianism, was also undergoing a pro cess of fundamental change from
inward quietism to outward activism. As Greenblatt puts it so well, “The lay Bud-
dhist movement at the end of the Ming was more activist than contemplative,
more moralistic than theological, more world- affi
rming than world- rejecting.”
One concrete example is provided by the author’s hero, Zhuhong
(1535–
1615), who placed a strong emphasis on moral action and relatively neglected
doctrinal questions (131). Even the Neo- Confucian idea of jingshi also found its
counterpart in late Ming Buddhism. This is particularly clear in Zibo Daguan’s
(1544–1604) redefi nition of the term yong
(function). For Daguan,
yong was no longer a passive function of “response” as in Chan Buddhism. On
the contrary, it “meant to work upon the world of historical real ity by means of the
enlightenment experience” (59). Thus, the Buddhist Dharma, like the Confucian
Dao, was also activated to function in the external world in a positive way.
Most signifi cant of all, we can even discern in late Ming Buddhism a move-
ment toward intellectualism parallel to the Neo- Confucian development from
zun dexing to dao wenxue. Wu points out the great popularity of the Sûrangama-
sûtra (Lengyan jing
) during Ming times and mentions Zhuhong and
Zhixu among the well- known commentators of the sûtra. Deqing
(1546–
1623), the hero in Wu’s study, we are told, also produced three exegetical works
on it (80). As a matter of fact, this interest in the Lengyan jing shows only a
small tip of an iceberg in view of the remarkable growth of Buddhist scholar-
ship in this period. For example, Zhixu, perhaps the greatest Buddhist scholar
of the Ming dynasty, wrote no less than fi fty works with a total of about two
hundred juan. His Yuezang zhijin
(A guide to the study of the canon),
a comprehensive annotated bibliography of Buddhist lit er a ture, has remained
an impor tant reference work to this day.
As we know, Chan Buddhism stresses direct transmission from mind to
mind “without the use of written texts” ( buli wenzi
) . Now in late Ming
times, just as Neo- Confucianists returned to their clas
sical sources, Buddhist
monks also began to develop a radically diff er ent view about “written texts.”
Zibo Daguan (also known as Zhenke
), for instance, believed that the truth
can be obtained only if one knows how to “make use of written texts without
being bound by them” ( zhi wenzi li wenzi
).34 However, fi fty years
later when Buddhist intellectualism was well under way, Zhixu came to the
370 in t e l le c t ua l t r a nsi t ion in s e v e n t e e n t h - ce n t ury c h ina radical conclusion that “To stray from the scripture by a single word is to step
into heresy.” According to him, true teachings are contained in scriptural texts,
and no one can obtain the truth through meditation without the help of teach-
ings. It was for this reason that he turned to study the Lengyan jing and other
impor tant sûtras.35
The rise of Buddhist intellectualism may be further illustrated by the na-
tionwide growth of Buddhist libraries at the end of Ming. According to Chen
Yuan, an authority on Ming- Qing Buddhist history, there was a general move-
ment in the Buddhist world to build up monastic libraries. In the late sixteenth
and early seventeenth centuries, almost every good- sized monastery in Yunnan
and Guizhou possessed a complete set of the Buddhist canon. Zibo Daguan
also contributed importantly to this movement, for it was largely due to his pro-
motion that the entire canon was published for the fi rst time in the ordinary
book form that greatly facilitated collection and reading.36 Chen Yuan says:
At the end of Ming, kaozheng studies developed as a result of the fl ourish-
ing of the School of the Mind, whereas Buddhist scholarship arose as a
result of the revival of Buddhism. Every body was aware that it was no
longer pos si ble to persuade others simply by referring to introspection
and without making use of written texts. Therefore, Confucianism and
Buddhism began to take a drastic change at about the same time. Since
then, the emphasis was equally placed on learning and moral nature,
which, though apparently contradictory, nevertheless complemented each
other.37
Terse and to the point, Chen Yuan has captured the spirit of the transition.
In conclusion, we must ask: What happened to the jingshi trend that had as-
serted itself so powerfully in the early stage of the transition? Why was it that