On Ethics and History

by Zhang Xuecheng

  The master said, “To learn without thinking is a waste. To think without learning is perilous!”21 He also said, “I once went an entire day without eating and an entire night without sleeping, engaged in thought. It did not benefit me at all. It is not as good as learning!”22 Now thinking surely is part of learning, but [when Kongzi] distinguished thinking from learning, his point was that [thinking] must be practiced in actual affairs before it can properly be called learning. This is how the master taught people the unity of knowledge and action.23 The theories of the various philosophers arose when thinking was pursued in the absence of learning. Therefore, though they all have guiding principles that they passed on, they could not avoid having defects.

  Liu Xin talked about the traditions of the various schools, saying they originated from the duties of different officials in ancient times.24 The traditions they carried on became the learning of the various schools, but the loss [of the practice of serving as an official] resulted in the defect of specialization. The duties of the different officials were simply the regulations and institutions of the former kings. When these became the learning of particular schools, they were separated from the practice of serving as an official, and each particular area of expertise became a separate tradition. When [the practice of serving as an official] was lost and gave rise to the defect of specialization, thinking became emphasized in the extreme, to the point that people no longer practiced [their specialty] in actual affairs. Though they “had reasons supporting their positions and logical arguments defending their views,”25 they did not understand the difficulties involved in implementing their theories. This is why, so long as the Three Dynasties flourished, learning had only a single source, and what was called learning always referred to a person’s actual work. In terms of the entire course of learning: when [a male child was] ten years old, he was called a boy and went off to school.26 In terms of individual disciplines: at thirteen, one studied music, and at twenty, one studied the rites.27 The learning institutions [of the state] were named according to people’s actual work. Thus there was the provincial college and the national college. The [governments of the] Three Dynasties all employed institutions with these names.28 Learning had not yet been delegated to individuals and named as their private possession.

  When the roles of official and teacher separated and the doctrines of the various philosophers arose, learning began to be named as the private possession of individuals. And so there was the so-called “learning of Mr. X’s school” and the “learning of Mr. Y’s school.” When learning began to be distinguished according to individuals, it thereby was undone. This did not come about as the result of excessive action; it was the result of excessive thinking. The master talked about the errors of excessive and deficient learning and thinking and followed this by saying, “The study of heterodox doctrines is injurious indeed!”29 When heterodox doctrines arise, it is the result of excessive thinking in the absence of practical application.

  Section Three

  The troubles with the philosophers of the hundred schools arose because they thought but did not learn. The problems with scholars today arise because they learn but do not think. It seems that when the roles of official and teacher separated, learning was no longer what it was for the ancients. The later kings, believing that the scholarly arts could not be abandoned, established professorships, lined up students, and set up the examination system to select scholars—all in order to encourage those who studied and emulated the former kings.30 It seems that, at first, benefits and salaries encouraged the scholarly arts, but in the end the scholarly arts were used [simply] to pursue benefits and salaries. This truly is not worth discussing. However, the most learned teachers of the scholarly tradition have come out of this institution, and one cannot deny that they are products of this fashion of teaching, which has prevailed at court. Human emotions cannot but be attracted and moved [by desirable things] and once so inclined, one’s thoughts and energies will be directed to realize these aims, and one will seek the fame that goes with it. These are things that anyone of average ability or more can, with effort, expect to achieve. However, the schools and examinations are flooded with vast numbers of highly talented individuals; surely [at least] one in ten should surpass those “of average ability or more.”31 [However, scholars today] are far removed from the men of old and they cannot study what the men of old studied. Since the aim of learning now consists of the recitation and practice of the scholarly arts, the very nature of the situation is such that it is twice as difficult to succeed as it was for the men of old. And so, if one among those who devote themselves to the study of some scholarly specialty manages to attain some personal insight above and beyond what can be expected of the average scholar, I would find no fault in him!32

  Those of broad learning are skilled in philological studies and squander their riches on “mountains and seas.”33 How could this not contribute in some way to [an understanding of] the dao?34 However, those who dash after broad learning spend all of their lives and dedicate all of their energies and efforts in the pursuit of it, without ever stopping to think what it is for! Those with outstanding talent win wide literary acclaim and focus their abilities on “clouds and frost.”35 How could this not manifest in some measure [an understanding of] the dao? However, those who grope after literary skill spend all their lives worried and vexed in their efforts to attain it, without ever stopping to think what it is for. Those who talk about philosophy seem to be able to think. However, if they fail to realize that when philosophy remains abstract and without application, then even it has nothing to do with the dao. Each of these [three kinds of scholar] knows how things are, but they do not know that by which things are as they are (suoyiran).36 Chengzi said, “In all affairs, think of that by which things are as they are. This is the most important question to ask.”37 Why do people not seek out the why (suoyiran) of things and think about this?

  The world cannot be without intellectual fashions and intellectual fashions cannot but revolve through cycles.38 These are like the alternations of the yin and yang, which are manifested in what is destined to occur. What is valuable about the gentleman’s art of learning is that it can be used to manage the affairs of the world and relieve one-sidedness, just as the alternations of the yin and yang are good for attaining balance and harmony. When an intellectual fashion begins, it necessarily takes something as its main theme. This is why philology, literature, and philosophy cannot avoid being either over-emphasized or under-emphasized. When an intellectual fashion has reached full flourishing, it necessarily contains some defects, because human emotions follow the times and covet reputation, pursuing the branch without understanding the root. And so, when an intellectual fashion has just begun, although it cannot avoid becoming one-sided, one must grasp its strength as the beginning of the latest fashion. When an intellectual fashion has run its course and become defective, and people abandon themselves to the pursuit of fame as if this were the proper thing to do, one must attack what is false as the remnant of a defunct fashion. This is simply the result of natural conditions. However, those who talk about learning today do not know how to manage intellectual fashions; they only know how to follow them. Moreover, they say that if one doesn’t pursue intellectual fashions, one is not worthy of a good reputation. This is only because they fail to think!

  ESSAY 3

  A Treatise on Teachers1

  Han Yu said, “Teachers transmit the Way, hand down expertise, and resolve doubts.”2 He also said, “disciples need not necessarily be inferior to their teachers and teachers need not be superior to their disciples” and “wherever the Way is, there is my teacher!” Han Yu also said, “diviners and craftsmen are not ashamed to learn from one another.”3 And so, he thought it strange that the people of his own time found it shameful to learn from one another and that they thereby showed themselves inferior even to diviners and craftsmen. However, it seems to me that these remarks reflect the [specific] problems of Han Yu’s age an
d that he did not attain a thorough account of what it is to be a teacher.

  The Book of Rites says that people have three [types of individuals] whom they serve in the same way.4 These are their lord, their parents, and their teachers. This refers to [teachers who] transmit the Way. When it comes to “handing down expertise” or “resolving doubts” there definitely are distinctions to be made; levels of expertise can be refined or crude and doubts can be great or small. Teachers who simply hand down [expertise] and resolve [doubts] certainly will reflect these differences, but such activities are distinct from the case of transmitting the Way.5 And so, we cannot crudely view all teachers [as equal]—as do diviners or craftsmen, who all learn from one another. It seems there are replaceable teachers and irreplaceable teachers; the differences between these two types cannot be covered in a single day.

  Those who [truly] understand teachers, do they not understand Heaven! Now, all human beings are to obey the decrees of Heaven, but Heaven is “without sound or scent.”6 And so, [Heaven] brings it about that rulers govern people. All human beings are born of Heaven, but Heaven does not bear each of them individually. And so, there are parents to give birth to them. Human beings all learn from Heaven, but Heaven does not instruct each of them individually. And so, there are teachers to instruct them. Thus a gentleman who thinks of serving Heaven, must simply reverently serve these three [i.e., rulers, parents, and teachers].

  If people lose their dao they lose that whereby they are human. It would be like losing one’s body, which would leave one without that whereby one has life. And so, father and mother give one life, and teachers give one instruction; basically, the underlying principle is not that different. The way the seventy disciples served Kongzi,7 the reason they stuck with him in life or in death and followed him to the four corners of the world, not daring to regard their own bodies as their personal [possession], was not simply because of the warmth of their affection. The force of their circumstances was such that things could not have been otherwise.8

  When it comes to handing down expertise and resolving doubts, there definitely are distinctions to be made. The commentaries passed down from one teacher of the classics to another and the methods of compilation in traditions of historical studies all belong to the dao itself. However, the books of the ancients do not express all that they said, and [even all of] what they said does not express all that they intended.9 Outside of the records on bamboo and silk, there was a separate transmission of the mind.10 Whenever there is such a person-to-person transmission, one must understand its source. This is not merely because one cannot disorder the lineal integrity of a tradition; rather, it is because one must follow the right kind of person in order to get this kind of teaching. [In such a case] if [one’s teacher] is not the right kind of person, there is nothing one can get from him. One needs an irreplaceable teacher. Within the special disciplines of learning and in those writings that bring order to the world, there are subtle nuances and textures that can be understood but that cannot be transmitted through words; this is where the supreme dao resides! One must follow the right kind of person in order to get this kind of teaching. [In such a case] if [one’s teacher] is not the right kind of person, there is nothing one can get from him. One needs an irreplaceable teacher. If [one finds such a teacher] then, while the teacher lives, one should serve him diligently and follow him anywhere; when he dies, one should offer sacrifices to him, just as the seventy disciples did for Kongzi.

  When it comes to studying the straightforward aspects of the classics, which do not involve any unique insight, or the straightforward aspects of literature, which do not depend on any original vision—those things that everyone knows and is capable of doing—if I get someone who happens to know such things to teach me and find that Mr. A cannot teach me all I need to know, there is nothing to prevent me from leaving him and going to Mr. B. If Mr. A doesn’t tell me [what I need to know], I can inquire of Mr. B. What such teachers teach does not involve the dao, and so they are replaceable teachers. Even in the cases of classical studies and composition, what they practice is a lower form of art. The method they employ is not different from the way engravers continue the art of carving or seamstresses carry on a tradition of embroidery. If one were to regard such teachers as being a bit senior to one and accordingly acts with proper ritual deference toward them and, when fitting, shows them appropriate affection and respect—this is perfectly permissible. However, to insist on serving them as one must serve one’s lord, parents, and teachers, to regard them with an equal sense of obligation, anyone who expects this is deranged and anyone who behaves this way is acting far from what is proper.

  The teachers of diviners and craftsmen clearly cannot be compared to [those who teach] the Way of the gentlemen. Even so, there is something worth discussing in regard to them. Those who possessed exceptional skill (in such arts), the renowned specialists among the ancients, also had esoteric and subtle teachings that they alone understood. If one found such a person, one could get such a teaching. If one’s teacher was not such a person, one could not get such a teaching. Here too [we find] irreplaceable teachers—teachers one should serve diligently as long as they live and sacrifice to when they have died. The ancients, whenever they ate or drank, felt the need to sacrifice to those who first [perfected the arts of] eating and drinking. They did not forget the source. How much more fitting is it for us to remember and revere those who perfected our morality and arts—things we clearly could not get from anyone else! As for [Han Yu’s remark that] “disciples need not necessarily be inferior to their teachers and teachers need not be superior to their disciples,” one must consider what is at stake. If what is at stake concerns the Way, then why would one [bother to make such a] meticulous comparison of people’s relative merit?11

  Is it not regrettable! The tradition of the teacher’s dao has been lost for such a long time.12 [In the present age,] a resolute scholar can search throughout the world and still not find an irreplaceable teacher. However, looking through the present and the past, I find loyal and earnest individuals; before I know it, a delightful feeling comes over me and I begin to laugh. Delving into their works, I find myself unable to explain what causes my tears [of joy]. These are my teachers! Though I have not [personally] met them, they have secretly transmitted [their teachings] to me. It is like the case of an orphan who sees a likeness of his deceased father. Though no one tells him [that this is an image of his father] as he sleeps and dreams he comes to realize [the truth].

  Some say that we cannot completely follow the manner in which the ancients carried out their affairs and so we need not sacrifice to them. However, Emperor Yu felt the need to sacrifice to [his father] Kun in order to honor his origins, and soldiers feel the need to sacrifice to [the rebel] Chi You in homage to the source of their craft.13 If one must chose someone to pay homage to, choosing the Duke of Zhou and Kongzi will leave one without any regrets. In serving his parents, though, must a son first evaluate their achievements and Virtue before offering sacrifice at the ancestral altar?

  ESSAY 4

  Conventional Convictions

  From where do our judgments arise? They arise from our “heart-mind of judging right and wrong.”1 From where does the heart-mind of judging right and wrong arise? It arises in the midst of uncertainty and doubt. Where does [the heart-mind of judging right and wrong] reach its extreme limit? It reaches its extreme limit in approving of Yao and disapproving of Jie.2 For the world to be without the distinction of Yao as right and Jie as wrong would be like its being without the distinction of Heaven as high and earth as low. Sharp-sightedness reaches its extreme limit in seeing [the tip of] an autumn hair, and acuteness of hearing reaches its limit in hearing an ant [deep] in its burrow.3 Being able to see Mount Tai4 is not considered a case of sharp-sightedness, nor is being able to hear thunder considered a case of acute hearing. And so, the cases of Yao and Jie are paradigms of right and wrong and not [cases which illustrate] how we distinguish right and w
rong. [Affairs about which one is] uncertain and doubtful are not [as clear as] the distinction between Yao and Jie. And yet, if one reasons [such things] through until they are as clear as the distinction between Yao and Jie, [one finds] that they begin in a subtle difference between approval and disapproval and reach their limit in the most refined of judgments.5 And so, [the cases of] Yao and Jie are the extreme limits of judgment, whereas approval and disapproval are “sprouts” put forth by obscure and subtle affairs.6

  Those who have an original insight into some obscure and subtle affair will take pride in and cherish it. However, if they do not reason it through to the point where it is like [the cases of] Yao and Jie, it will not be worth cherishing as an original insight. Once they reason it through to the point where it is as clear as [the cases of] Yao and Jie, then others too will accept it with the same conviction they have in regard to Yao and Jie. Thus one’s original insight regarding right and wrong ends in commonly accepted notions of right and wrong.

  [The cases of] Yao and Jie do not require one to reason things out [to their extreme limits]. The accumulation, over time, of [judgments of] right and wrong which have come to be accepted as like [the cases of] Yao and Jie results from collecting, over time, original insights into obscure and subtle affairs, which have been reasoned out to their extreme limits. Those who [uncritically] accept the judgments of right and wrong that have been reasoned out to their extreme limits do not understand the nature of right and wrong. [But], even though they do not understand the nature of right and wrong, in the end they do not lose sight of right and wrong. They simply say that these are matters of conviction, which do not require critical consideration.