Introduction
Gu Yanwu (Ku Yen-wu, 1613–1682) is a figure of considerable importance in Chinese intellectual history. His work was substantial and his influence significant, extending across several areas of scholarship and continuing into the twentieth century. However, for such a significant scholar the course of his life was unusual. He never held an official position or played any active part in politics, and yet his political and social philosophy was highly relevant. He never undertook any formal teaching or developed any coterie of followers. He only ever had one disciple, Pan Lei (1646–1708), to whom we must be grateful for his role in preserving Gu’s work. Nor did he follow the path of the more or less eremitic scholar, unlike his contemporary Wang Fuzhi (1619–1692), who, after a brief flirtation with Ming restoration (like Gu), withdrew to his native place to study and write for the remaining forty or so years of his life. Instead, Gu became an itinerant, always on the road, traveling widely and availing himself of the hospitality (and libraries) of a number of friends. Quite how he managed to achieve so much in terms of scholarship while following such a path is something of a mystery, particularly when considering some of the major vicissitudes that marked his travels. So he remained on the road and somewhat elusive for the last thirty-odd years of his life—his friend Gui Zhuang (1613–1673) likened him to “a wily rabbit with three burrows”—while Wang Fuzhi was working away diligently in his own home. Even Gu’s death was travel related. He fell off his horse while setting off on yet another journey and died some days later as a consequence of the fall.
Such difficulties notwithstanding, Gu is recognized as a true polymath who made his mark in several fields. And in fact he became quite well known during his lifetime, renowned for his erudition. However, only two of his works were published before he died—an early version of the Rizhi Lu (Record of Daily Knowledge) and his work on phonetics and phonology, Yinxue Wushu (Five Books on Phonetics). It is the former, in its final form, together with the Gu Tinglin Shiwenji (Collected Poems and Essays of Gu Tinglin), which contains his thought on the classics, politics and statecraft, ethics, philosophy, literature, and sundry other subjects, together with his roughly three hundred extant post-1644 poems. The Record of Daily Knowledge is the culmination of many years of assiduous and painstaking work presented as a substantial collection of a little over a thousand essays covering these subjects. It was this book above all that established his importance in the redirection of Chinese thought, away from what were seen as the sterile Ming developments of neo-Confucianism and toward what later became known as Han learning (Hanxue ) and kaozheng xue (evidential, empirical, or textual research). Moreover, what emerges from this work, together with his other collected essays and poems, is an engaging portrait of the man himself—that of a highly intelligent, thoughtful, and humble scholar of exemplary integrity whose purpose was to make study and learning directly relevant to the betterment of society.
There is a considerable secondary literature on Gu in Chinese and other Asian languages. Unfortunately, despite his importance being well recognized also in the West, there is very little of his writings available in Western languages. In sum, there is one book in French on his thought and four doctoral dissertations in English, along with some journal articles and discussions in books of a more general nature.1 In the Chinese literature different writers have focused on different aspects of his work. And interpretations have varied, especially in the fields of political philosophy and social philosophy, depending in no small part on the political leanings of the interpreter. Gu was, however, a writer of notable clarity. Although in the Record of Daily Knowledge, for example, his ideas are embedded in a mass of historical and literary detail, with specific and at times lengthy quotes from various sources, his own position is expressed clearly and often forcibly. This clarity is made more apparent in the Shiwenji essays.
What is signally lacking for Western students of Chinese thought is any significant and readily available translation of his work. Translations exist in only two dissertations: Bartlett’s, which contains translations of several of the key essays in the Collected Poems and Essays plus excerpts from a number of other writings, and my own, in which material from the Record of Daily Knowledge predominates. The present work is an attempt to redress this deficiency, at least in part. It is a deficiency that should be addressed insofar as his work has an obvious relevance that is not limited to China or his own time; his thought is both timeless and universal. The present translations are taken from two works only, the Record of Daily Knowledge, which Gu himself saw as his most important work, and the Collected Poems and Essays, which contains several substantial essays and letters, as well as various other writings, including his extant poems. In this relatively brief introduction, I consider the course of his life, particularly as it pertains to his work; his writings, focusing primarily on the two works in question; his philosophy; and his legacy.
A TURBULENT LIFE
The essential details of Gu’s life are set out chronologically in appendix 1.2 Here I consider in greater detail certain aspects of particular importance.
Family Background
Gu was born into a family that could trace its ancestry back to Song times in the person of Gu Qing. His forebears over the centuries included scholars, officials, and writers of varying degrees of importance, and, notably, a number of bibliophiles. The family’s move to Gu Yanwu’s birthplace was made in 1524 by Gu Jian, a man who reached the position of superintending secretary in the Office of Scrutiny for Justice. A brief excerpt from a memorial he wrote early in the reign of Shi Zong (1522–1566) presages some of Gu Yanwu’s own firmly expressed thoughts: “Establishing laws is not difficult; abiding by laws is difficult. Listening to remonstrances is not difficult; being pleased with remonstrances is difficult.”3 Gu Yanwu’s father, Gu Tongying, born in 1585, enjoyed very limited success in the official examinations, although he did achieve some renown as a poet. He died in 1626 at the young age of forty-two, when Gu Yanwu was a thirteen-year-old boy. By this time, Gu Yanwu had, in fact, been adopted as the heir of Tongying’s paternal uncle, Gu Shaofei (1563–1641), and Shaofei’s deceased (and only) son, Gu Tongji, who had died at the age of eighteen. At the time of his death, Tongji was betrothed to a woman of the surname Wang, who, according to custom, remained unmarried, attaching herself to the household of her intended husband’s parents and becoming Gu Yanwu’s adoptive mother.
The Early Years
Two people of particular importance to Gu during these formative years were his adoptive mother, Wang, and his adoptive grandfather, Gu Shaofei. Their influences on the boy’s developing character and his approach to learning were profound. On the former, Peterson writes, “In the same year [i.e., 1618] she instructed her six-year-old son in the Highest Learning [Daxue]. She also taught him manners, and from the stories she told him about historical figures, he learned to recognize characters and distinguish names.”4 Perhaps more important was her nature as a person. Gu expressed his feelings toward her in the substantial tribute he later wrote, “Xianbi Wang Shouren Xingzhuang,” which is included in his Shiwenji. Shaofei became increasingly important in Yanwu’s education as it progressed. Gu’s reading, under his adoptive grandfather’s direction, was notable for its breadth and focus on historical writings. Works studied included the Four Books, as arranged by Zhu Xi; the Changes (Zhou Yi); the Huainanzi; Zuo Zhuan; Guoyu; and Shiji. Shaofei is said to have given the eleven-year-old Gu a copy of the Zizhi Tongjian (Comprehensive Mirror Aiding Government), a work that was to feature significantly in Gu’s Record of Daily Knowledge. Importantly, Shaofei’s own profound regard for the original classics, his disdain for later commentaries and examination-centered writings, and his focus on the value of historical writings seem to have been transmitted to his adopted grandson.
The Examination Years
Gu’s engagement in the obligatory struggle with the official examination system began in 1626 when he passed a qualifying examination to become a so-called “government student” (shengyuan—a category of student he later came to criticize vigorously) and ended in 1640, when, despondent at his series of failures, he finally abandoned the struggle. In the preface to his Tianxia Junguo Libing Shu (Advantages and Disadvantages of the Empire’s Prefectures and States), he wrote, “Rejected in the autumnal triennial examination in 1639, I retired and read books. Being aware of the many grievous problems facing the state, I was ashamed of the meager resources that students of the classics possessed to deal with these problems. Therefore, I read through the twenty-one dynastic histories as well as gazetteers for the whole empire. I read the collected literary works of the famous men of each period as well as memorials and documents. I noted down what I gained from my reading.”
Other significant events during these years included his marriage in 1631 to a woman also named Wang; the formation of a number of enduring friendships, including that with Gui Zhuang (apparently the two were known as strange Gu and odd Gui); and his joining the Fushe (Restoration Society), founded by Zhang Pu (1602–1641) in 1628. Peterson quotes from Wm. Theodore de Bary’s translation of Zhang’s statement on the purposes of the society as follows: “Since traditional teachings have been neglected, scholars do not understand classical thought and can do no more than pick their ears and paint their eyes. If one of them is fortunate enough to obtain office, at court he is incapable of serving the Emperor and in the districts he does not know how, as a magistrate, to help the people. The capabilities of men daily decline, and the administration of government daily deteriorates—all due to this [neglect of the classics].”5
The Years Immediately Prior to the Fall of Beijing
These years signaled the beginning of the turbulence that was to follow Gu for the rest of his life. First, there were two deaths in the family, both of which had a major impact on him. In 1641, Gu Shaofei died, and then, in the following year, his brother, Gu Xiang, also died. So, at the age of twenty-nine, Gu not only lost one of the two people most influential in directing his life but also was elevated to head of the household, which meant he was faced with the funeral expenses and other consequences of the two deaths. This was against the background of his own relative lack of examination success and the rapidly accelerating breakdown of Ming society. Second, he began to collect information toward the compilation of his two major treatises on historical geography. Third, beset by financial pressures, he was compelled to mortgage part of the family estate to one Ye Fangheng, a move that proved to have most unfortunate repercussions.
The Decade Following the Fall of Beijing
This was, of course, a time of considerable turbulence generally. The two things that particularly occupied Gu were the need to provide for his family and keep them safe and to work toward a Ming restoration. On the first matter, Gu moved his adoptive mother and the rest of his household to Tangshi in Changshu (in the fourth month) and then to the family residence at Qiandun (in the tenth month). Following further reverses—a robbery personally and the advance of the alien dynasty generally—he moved the household again, this time to the village of Yulianjing, between Kunshan and Changshu, in the twelfth month. However, as the Manchu advance continued south, family members became embroiled in the conflict. Two of his younger brothers were killed in the fighting and his biological mother injured. It seems probable that Gu himself was not involved in the fighting. He had gone to Nanjing, but in the fifth month the Manchu forces entered the southern capital. Shortly after this Gu returned to Yulianjing, where, in all likelihood, he remained during the fighting in Kunshan. At the end of 1645, Gu’s adoptive mother starved herself to death rather than submit to the alien regime. She is said to have elicited a vow from her adopted son on her deathbed that he would never serve the Manchu regime, and he never did.
On the second matter, there are two aspects, one of which is the extent of his direct involvement with an alternative Ming government. There is little evidence to suggest this was significant, although it is recorded that, when the alternative government was being established in Nanjing late in 1644, the magistrate of Kunshan, Yang Yongyan, recommended Gu for office. He was appointed to a post with the Ministry of War, which he apparently never took up. The second aspect concerns his literary activities, which were directed in part at examining the political and social issues that had led to the downfall of the Ming—the four early essays on military, geographical, agricultural, and financial policies are examples. In addition, there was his focus on geographical and historical matters, especially to the extent they might bear on a possible Ming restoration. His two major works on the subjects—Tianxia Junguo Libing Shu and Zhaoyu Zhi (Record of the Origins of Regions)—are examples of this.
We know relatively little about Gu’s movements and activities during the several years following 1645. Not only was it a time of general upheaval but also Gu’s own activities may have been somewhat clandestine in support of Ming loyalists. Moreover, information about such activities may have been retrospectively suppressed by his relatives anxious not to offend the ruling Manchus. Thus, the actual extent of Gu’s involvement in the abortive attempts at Ming restoration remains unknown. What we do know is that after the burial of his adoptive mother in 1647, he traveled in the south, assuming an appearance in accord with Manchu requirements, presumably to facilitate free movement. We also have several poems from this period that reflect his feelings about the Manchu conquest and the ensuing sufferings of the people. In 1651, at the age of thirty-eight, he made the first of a series of visits to the tomb of Ming Tai Zu, the founding emperor of the dynasty, at Nanjing. In fact, in the early 1650s, he basically resided at Nanjing, although his wife continued to live at Kunshan.
Legal Troubles
During his lifetime Gu was caught up in two major legal disputes. The first stemmed from his sale of land to Ye Fangheng. In essence, a former servant of the Gu household, Lu En, transferred his allegiance to Ye Fangheng. No doubt under instruction from Ye, Lu En sought to discredit Gu by informing local officials that he had been connected with the southern Ming court at Fuzhou. On his return to Kunshan in 1655, Gu and some associates seized Lu and drowned him. As a result, Gu was arrested, tried, and sentenced to forced labor in a trial influenced by Ye. Ultimately, through the intercession of friends, in particular Gui Zhuang and Lu Zepu, he was retried in a different court and his sentence commuted to a beating. He was released in the spring of 1656. This was not, however, the end of the matter. During a journey to Nanjing later in the same year, after the death of his natural mother, he was attacked by an assassin in the employ of Ye Fangheng. Gu was lucky: although he was knocked from his mule and suffered a head wound, he was able to escape thanks to the intervention of a passerby. Also in the same year, his house in Kunshan was robbed by a gang of Ye’s ruffians.
The second dispute occurred much later, in 1668. Along with several other scholars, he was accused of sedition by a certain Jiang Yuanheng. The basis of the charge was that the men concerned were sympathetic to the deposed Ming regime and, through their writings, slanderous toward the Manchu rulers. Gu was held for about six months and then released in the tenth month of 1668. According to Peterson, the reason why “Gu was exonerated after being accused of defaming the Qing government” was to be “found in his extensive contacts with influential members of the bureaucracy who were able to exert pressure on his behalf.”6
The Northern Travels Begin
The effect of the disturbing events involving Ye Fangheng signaled the beginning of Gu’s northern travels. This period also saw a redirection of his intellectual endeavors away from his studies of historical geography and its implications for a possible Ming restoration and toward a concentration on his studies of the classics and statecraft in particular. During the decade 1657 to 1667, his travels took in visits to the tombs of Confucius, Mencius, and the Duke of Zhou, to the northern Ming tombs near Beijing, climbing Tai Shan, and meetings with noted scholars—men such as Li Yong, Sun Qifeng, Zhang Erqi, Fu Shan, and Yan Ruoqu. Throughout this period, he continued to work on the Rizhi Lu and to gather material for his geographical and epigraphical writings. The end of the decade saw the first publication of his influential work on phonetics, the Yinxue Wushu, printed at Shanyang in Jiangsu with the help of Zhang Chao.
In 1668, after resolution of the second legal matter, Gu’s northern travels continued. In 1669 he acquired a student, Pan Lei (also Pan Cigeng ), who traveled from Shanyang to Jinan to join Gu. Pan Lei was of particular importance in the preservation and publication of his teacher’s works. The following year saw the first publication of the Rizhi Lu in eight juan. Gu never really settled down, although in 1675 he did establish a study in Jixia in Shanxi in a house built for him there by Dai Tingshi, a man who had supported a number of Ming loyalists. Another friend, Wang Hongzhuan, apparently also discussed with Gu the possibility of setting up a residence for him in Shanxi. This, however, never eventuated. Gu declined at least two offers to become involved in official matters: the first, in 1671, was to assist in the compilation of the Ming history and the second, in 1678, was to take up a magistrate’s position at Fuping in Shanxi. Other overtures, notably by Chang Yinyi, were also rejected. In 1679, on another visit to Wang Hongzhuan at Huayin, the two men were involved in planning a shrine to commemorate a journey there by Zhu Xi in 1185. Also in 1679, Gu petitioned the History Board to have his adoptive mother’s name included in the biographies of women in the Ming. Also during his travels in the 1670s, Gu spent time with his three nephews, sons of his sister, who had risen to positions of some prominence in Beijing. Since they had never served the Ming regime, it was acceptable for them to serve the Qing, and acceptable also for Gu to associate with them. In 1676 he adopted Gu Yansheng, the child of a distant cousin.
The Final Years
In 1680, while with his adopted son at Fenzhou, he received news of his wife’s death. She had remained in Kunshan during the many years of her husband’s travels. Apparently, Gu met his mourning obligations while staying at a friend’s house, sending a poem to mark the occasion of her death. Still he continued to travel. In the first part of 1681 he visited several places, including Huayin to meet again with Wang Hongzhuan regarding the matter of Zhu Xi’s shrine. On the second day of the eighth month, he began what was to be his last journey, setting out from Huayin to travel to Quwo. On the eleventh day of the eighth month, three days after his arrival at Quwo, he became ill and had difficulty walking. In the tenth month, he moved to the home of a friend, Han Xuan, and, while there, arranged the marriage of his adopted son to the daughter of an eminent local family. The start of 1682, his final year, found him, now aged sixty-nine, still staying with Han Xuan in Shanxi. Although his health had improved somewhat, on the eighth day of the first month, his foot slipped as he was mounting his horse and he fell to the ground. There followed a rapid decline in his condition, and he died early on the morning of the ninth day of the first month of 1682. Han Xuan attended to the funeral arrangements and, in the third month, his adopted son, Gu Yansheng, accompanied his coffin back to Kunshan, where he was buried.
A SUBSTANTIAL OEUVRE
Gu Yanwu was a prolific writer despite his peregrinations. Considering he was constantly on the road for the last thirty years of his life, living in inns and friends’ houses, reliant on the books he could carry on pack animals and those he could borrow or copy, and subject to the various vicissitudes I have outlined, his literary output was truly remarkable. Moreover, his works, which include significant representatives in each of the four traditional divisions—classics, history, philosophy, and belles lettres—give some measure of the breadth of his interests. A detailed list of his works is given in appendix 2. More detailed lists are provided in the works by Jan Hagman and Jean-François Vergnaud listed in the bibliography; there are eighty titles in the latter’s list. However, as mentioned, only two of Gu Yanwu’s works were formally published during his lifetime: his treatise on phonology and related matters (Yinxue Wushu), in 1667, and the first version of his Record of Daily Knowledge, in 1670.
It is interesting to compare Gu with two of his close contemporaries, Huang Zongxi (1610–1695) and Wang Fuzhi, both of whom shared Gu’s Ming loyalist sentiments. Both men were comparably prolific writers. One notable aspect that distinguished Gu from them was his unusual life. The other two men, following early and active attempts at supporting or restoring the crumbling Ming dynasty, retired to the traditional scholarly life of relative seclusion, devoting themselves largely to thinking and writing. The Siku Quanshu Zongmu Tiyao lists twenty-two works (and a possible additional one) for Gu Yanwu, fifteen for Huang Zongxi, and six for Wang Fuzhi, none of whose works were published during his lifetime.
What follows is an outline of the two works that provide the material for the translations—the Rizhi Lu, classified in the SKQS under philosophy, and the Gu Tinglin Shiwenji (SWJ), classified under miscellaneous. Brief comments have been added on several other of his major works.
1. The Rizhi Lu
Gu Yanwu’s most influential work, the Rizhi Lu, was first published in 1670 in eight juan. Apparently there are two versions of the original work extant; one is held in the Shanghai Library, while another copy was recently discovered by Chen Zuwu in the rare books section of the Beijing Library.7 The original preface is to be found in Tinglin Shiwenji, 2.2. The first full edition in thirty-two juan, edited by Gu’s student, Pan Lei, was printed in Fujian in 1695. To quote Fang Chao-ying, the Rizhi Lu is a “collection of carefully written notes on a great variety of topics,” these notes being “the results of thirty years of wide and thoughtful reading and on the observations he made in the course of his long journeys on horseback. Not one of these notes, he [i.e., Gu] says, was written without long meditation and many of them were revised again and again.”8 A further edition appeared in 1795; this included four additional juan of what have been described as supplementary notes grouped under the title of Rizhi Luzhi Yu. What has become the definitive version, that edited by Huang Rucheng (1799–1837), was published in 1834. This includes annotations by various scholars and is titled Rizhi Lu Jiaoshi . It has been republished a number of times.
In the early 1930s, Zhang Ji (1887–1947), then a prominent member of the Guomindang, discovered a hand-copied manuscript of the Rizhi Lu in an antiquarian bookstore in Beijing. He showed this to his friend Zhang Taiyan (Binglin—1868–1936), who was a noted Confucian scholar and radical nationalist. He in turn set his student, Huang Kan (1886–1935), to work on it. As a result of close comparison with the standard edition, these scholars judged it to be an original version prior to deletions and changes made, presumably by Pan Lei, to avoid problems with the Manchu rulers—Pan had already had a brother executed for a “literary crime” (preparing an alternative Ming history). Zhang Binglin’s short preface, given in appendix 3, provides a brief account of these events. The actual manuscript was taken to Taiwan by Zhang Binglin and was subsequently published after his death through the agency of his wife in Taiwan in 1958, under the title Yuanchaoben Rizhi Lu . The legitimacy of this claim by Zhang Binlin and his associates has been both supported and questioned by recent scholars.
Thus, Ku Wei-ying writes,
I accept the authenticity of the Yuanchaoben [Rizhi Lu]. My first reason for doing this is that I believe Gu was conscious of the possibility of a literary inquisition, and had already prepared himself for it. He made his consciousness evident in such remarks as these: [there follow quotes from two letters in the SWJ]. Thus it is possible that Gu wrote extra manuscript copies of the original Rizhi Lu. After Gu died, all of his collections of books and writings fell into the hands of his nephews—the influential Xu brothers. It was then that Gu’s Rizhi Lu was published. The text which was presented to the public was heavily edited to avoid trouble. The Yuanchaoben, if we take this view, survived the literary inquisition under the protection of the Xu brothers, possibly even without their knowledge of such manuscripts.9
Ku Wei-ying continues by giving three further reasons for his view. John Delury however, writes, “There are reasons to treat the reliability of the manuscript version discovered in 1933 with some skepticism. First, the text appeared on the heels of Japan’s occupation of Manchuria, with Japanese ‘barbarians’ at the gate. Second, the manuscript is closely linked to Zhang Yaiyan, a brilliant scholar, but one who, at least in his other writings on Gu Yanwu, let his political agenda get the better of scholarly rigor.”10
Although this is an issue of some scholarly interest and also has a bearing on Gu’s status as a Ming loyalist, it is essentially immaterial as far as an understanding of the substance of Gu Yanwu’s ideas is concerned. It is noteworthy that, of the two recent editions that include both original annotations and footnotes citing, among other things, sources, one follows the Huang Rucheng (HRC) version and the other the Yuanchaoben (YCB) version.11 It should also be mentioned that the many scholars influenced by Gu during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries presumably had access only to the HRC version.
The work, in its final form, contains over a thousand essays,12 ranging from less than a complete vertical column in length to the longest essay, “Su Song Erfu Tianfuzhi Zhong,” which is 161 vertical columns (including interlinear annotations) in the Chen Yuan edition of 2007. Gu initially made a notional division of the material in the original eight-juan edition into three sections: jingshu (classics), zhidao (way of government), and bowen (wide-ranging learning). While this division is still broadly applicable, a number of more detailed subdivisions have been proposed by later commentators. The table gives the Siku Quanshu Zongmu Tiyao division of the HRC version and Xu Wenshan’s division of the YCB version. While such divisions are helpful to an extent, the overall organization of the work is less than tight, so there is a degree of crossover between the sections in terms of subject matter.
Table 1   Comparison of subdivisions of two editions of the RZL
Section HRC version YCB version
1 1–7: Jingyi (classics) 1–8: Wujing (Five Classics)
2 8–12: Zhengshi (government affairs) 9–10: Sishu (Four Books)
3 13: Shifeng (customs and mores) 11–16: Zhongyang Difang Zhengzhi Jianji Shehui Zhidu (central and local government relations and social institutions)
4 14–15: Lizhi (ritual and ceremonial practices) 17: Fengsu (customs and mores)
5 16–17: Keju (official examinations) 18: Lizhi (ritual and ceremonial practices)
6 18–21: Yiwen (literature and the arts) 19: Keju (official examinations)
7 22–24: Zalun Mingyi (miscellaneous names and terms) 20: Xinxue Deng (learning of mind and heart, etc.)
8 25: Gushi Zhenwang (old stories, true and false) 21: Shangban Yanwen Xiaban Jiangshi (part writing and literature, part explanations of the histories)
9 26: Shifa (historical methods) 22: Shifu (shi and fu poetry)
10 27: Zhushu (annotation of books) 23–26: Za Kaogushi (mis cellaneous archaeological matters)
11 28: Zashi (miscellaneous matters) 24–25: Xingshi, Chengwei, Guanzhi (family and clan names)
12 29: Bing Ji Waiguo Shi (matters concerning warfare and foreign countries) 27: Ping Shishu (criticizing history books)
13 30: Tianxiang Shushu (astronomy and mathematics) 28: Lun Zhushu (miscella neous notes and commentaries)
14 31: Dili (geography) 29: Zhongwai Fuzhi (Chi nese and foreign dress regulations)
15 32: Za Kaozheng (miscellaneous evidential research) 30: Tianwen Ji Shenguai (astronomy and ghosts and spirits)
16   31: Dili (geography)
17   32: Bowen Ji Zakao (wide-ranging learning and miscellaneous studies)
There are, in fact, three very recent versions the Rizhi Lu: the three-volume version edited by Chen Yuan, Rizhi Lu Jiaozhu, published in 2007; the two-volume version edited by Zhang Jinghua, Rizhi Lu Jiaoshi, published in 2011; and the version in the twenty-two-volume Gu Yanwu Quanji, also published in 2011. The Rizhi Luzhi Yu, in four juan, is appended to both the Huang Rucheng and Zhang Jinghua editions, while the former also has the Guzhong Suibi (Notes from amid the Wild Rice). This has also been published separately in both one- and three-juan versions.
The groupings adopted in the present work are as follows:
1.    The Classics—juan 1–7
2.    Administration and Economics—juan 8–12
3.    Customs and Mores—juan 13–15
4.    The Examination System—juan 16–17
5.    Literature and Philosophy—juan 18–21
6.    Miscellaneous (including history, geography, military matters, astronomy, terminology, philology, and other topics)—juan 22–32
2. The Gu Tinglin Shiwenji
The Gu Tinglin Shiwenji was first published in its present form by Zhonghua Shuju in Beijing in 1959 and is described quite aptly by Vergnaud as “très utile.” It includes the following six previously published works:
1.    Tinglin Wenji: In six juan, this work was prepared using an edition dating from the Kangxi reign period (1662–1723). It was completed in respect of doubtful passages using the manuscript of the Jiang Shangyong Cangao and the Guangxu edition of Zhang Xiufu and Dong Jiujian. It is a collection of 105 pieces—essays, prefaces, letters, records, inscriptions, and other writings. The essays include Gu’s four early political essays on military, geographical, agricultural, and fiscal matters and his important later multipart essays on commanderies and districts (the junxian system), taxation, and government students.
2.    Tinglin Yuji: This is a collection of twelve pieces originally prepared during the early part of the Qianlong reign period and subsequently published in 1876 by Peng Guangdian from a manuscript belonging to Fu Cengxiang. It contains his long memorial to his adoptive mother, Wang.
3.    Jiang Shangyong Cangao: This was based on a manuscript in the Osaka Library. It comprises three juan containing 37, 33, and 28 pieces, predominantly letters and replies, many of which are also in the Wenji.
4.    Tinglin Yiwen Zhibu: This contains nineteen pieces of which several are multipart and are letters or other documents.
5.    Tinglin Shiji: This was prepared from Pan Lei’s annotated manuscript and contains 332 poems in five juan. There are two more recent editions with detailed annotations, as listed prior to the translations of the poems in part III.
6.    Ximiao Liangyin Jishi: This brief work, in one juan, is about events during the Tianqi reign period of Emperor Xi Zong (1621–1627).
The division of material in the Tinglin Wenji is relatively clear-cut and is as follows:
1.    Statecraft Essays—juan 1
2.    Prefaces (to various works)—juan 2
3.    Letters—juan 3 and 4
4.    Records, Inscriptions, and Other Writings—juan 5
5.    Miscellaneous (essays, letters, and prefaces)—juan 6
His three other major works are as follows.
3. The Yinxue Wushu
This work, in thirty-eight juan, was first printed in 1667 with the assistance of Zhang Chao. It comprises five sections: a catalogue of ancient sounds (“Guyin Biao”—two juan), a study of pronunciations in the Changes (“Yiyin”—three juan), an examination of pronunciations in the Odes (“Shi Benyi”—ten juan), a comparison of Tang rhymes with those used in ancient times (“Tangyun Zheng”—twenty juan), and a general discussion (“Yinlun”—three juan). On this work, Fang Chao-ying writes, “Ku Yen-wu adopted Chen’s [i.e., Chen Di—1541–1617] method in his own extensive phonetical researches and, by adducing still more examples to show its applicability, he so popularized it that it became one of the most effective tools of Ch’ing [Qing] scholarship.”13 This work has come under fire in more recent times. A succinct and informative account is provided by Bartlett.14 Despite the criticisms, it remains a work of considerable importance in the development of the text-critical movement.
4. The Tianxia Junguo Libing Shu
This work, in 120 juan, is a collection of material from historical records, veritable records, local records, collected works, and various other official documents, supplemented and corrected by Gu’s own observations made during his extensive travels. It is said that whatever had a bearing on the nation’s economy and the people’s livelihood he considered worthy of examining and recording, with particular stress being placed on issues of strategic military importance, taxation, and waterways. Gu began his collection of data in 1639; the preface was written in 1662. He subsequently set it aside, and it wasn’t published until after his death.
5. The Zhaoyu Zhi
This is an extensive work of historical geography begun in 1639 but never published in a completed form. In his preface, Gu writes, “First I took the general gazetteers of the empire, then the gazetteers of each of the sheng, fu, zhou, and xian. Next, I took the twenty-one dynastic histories and various works, reading, in all, more than a thousand writings.” Fang Chao-ying, in Arthur Hummel’s Eminent Chinese of the Ch’ing Period, originally published in 1943, speaks of two incomplete manuscripts in the Guoxue Library in Nanjing.
Thus, from his substantial body of published and unpublished writings, there are perhaps five that can be regarded as being of particular importance. The two from which selected translations are included in the present work, the RZL and the SWJ, contain the substance of Gu Yanwu’s thinking on a wide range of subjects but especially the classics, philosophy generally, and statecraft. This material undoubtedly has a timeless quality, while the letters particularly give important insights into the nature of the man himself. The three more specialized works are predominantly of historical interest, although the first was certainly influential in determining the direction of scholars during the Qing period.
A PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHY
In attempting to identify key concepts in Gu Yanwu’s thought, two things in particular must be taken into account. First, in none of his writings does he set out a detailed and extensive exposition of these concepts. They must be extracted piecemeal from the very large number of short, or relatively short, essays, which are themselves often heavily laced with quotations from other writers. Second, his criticisms of, and reflections on, other ideas and practices are, for the most part, inextricably interwoven with the expression of his own ideas. Typically, what he proposes is to be seen reflected in the mirror of what he opposes. In addition, as alluded to earlier, his thought is wide-ranging and encompasses the study of the classics, philosophy (social, political, and ethical), the methods and aims of learning, literature, history, geography, and sundry other matters. And above all, in each of these subjects, the pursuit of knowledge is for the purpose of its practical application to the moral cultivation of the individual and the general betterment of society. In summarizing his thoughts on these matters, I follow the divisions in the Rizhi Lu as used for the translations. Material from the Shiwenji is considered briefly and separately.
1. Record of Daily Knowledge
RZL 1–7: The Classics
The classics are covered in the first seven juan of the HRC edition and the first ten juan of the YCB edition. Works considered in detail are the Changes (Yi Jing), Documents (Shu Jing), Odes (Shi Jing), Spring and Autumn Annals (Chunqiu) and its three commentaries, the three works on li —that is, the Rites of Zhou (Zhou Li), the Book of Etiquette (Yi Li), and the Record of Rites (Li Ji), the last including the two later extracted chapters, the Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong ) and the Highest Learning—the Analects (Lunyu) and the Mencius. Delury makes a point of the inclusion of the Zhongyong and the Daxue in the section on the Li Ji, taking this as an implicit rejection of the creation of the Four Books by Zhu Xi (1130–1200).15 Notably, however, in the YCB edition, they are treated together in sections 9 and 10, separate from the Li Ji.
Among these canonical works, Gu gives pride of place to the Changes. In fact, his approach to the Changes can be taken as a paradigm of his attitude to the classics in general. He is concerned with matters of fact, such as the origins and authorship of the particular work, and with the historical development of its interpretations, as shown by the commentaries and analyses of later scholars. He is concerned with the subject matter of textual research, and especially with the applicability of the work to a person’s life and activities—that is, the classic as a vehicle for “the cultivation of the self and the ordering of the people.” In this he is typical of the exponents of Han learning. In regard to the Changes specifically, he saw this as a work of major significance in the Confucian canon and not just a somewhat obscure tract on prognostication. It was, for him, a work embracing all the important components of learning. Indeed, as he asks rhetorically, is everything of value not contained in the Changes?16
The importance he accorded to the Changes is made particularly clear in the following excerpt from a letter to a friend on the subject:
Thus is it said that the Changes contains the fourfold Way [dao] of the revered sages. In speaking, we should be guided by its judgments. In acting, we should be guided by its changes. In making objects, we should be guided by its images. In seeking an oracle, we should be guided by its pronouncements. Previously, when I encouraged men to study the Changes, I suggested this should be preceded by study of the Odes and the Documents, and by attention to the Record of Rites, with the Changes being used to preserve what is central. If this is done, there may subsequently be examination of its diagrams and contemplation of its judgments. Then the Way [dao] will not be empty action, and the Way [dao] of the sages can be understood. I wonder if you consider this to be true or not?17
He goes on to give similar detailed treatment to each of the other classics in turn, with the identification of the general issues running through all these works and with attention also to specific issues pertaining to the individual works. Moreover, in his considerations on the origin, authorship, and authenticity of a particular text, he is unafraid to enter areas of uncertainty and controversy. A central tenet of his thinking is that only through detailed clarification of all matters pertaining to the text can the meaning be made clear. For Gu, too ready an acceptance of a text, given in uncritical fashion, is not to be countenanced. His attitude is well encapsulated in the words of Mencius, apropos the Documents: “It would be better to be without the Documents than to give undue credence to it.”18 Specifically, for the Changes he writes on the no longer extant precursors of the work and on the final formulation of the definitive text. For the Documents, he gives attention to the old text–new text controversy, and for the Odes he examines Confucius’s role in ordering and arranging the verses. In relation to the Spring and Autumn Annals, he also examines Confucius’s role and offers a critical appraisal of the three ancient commentaries.
In his focus on the lessons to be learned from each of these works, whether they be ethical, philosophical, or political, he is clearly sympathetic to all the basic concepts of Confucianism and reaffirms the purpose of learning, which must necessarily be firmly founded on the ancient classics—that is, to cultivate the self in order to govern others. Two issues that are fundamental to Gu’s thought, and are derived directly from Confucius, also emerge in this section: the importance of the “broad study of literature [wen]” and “in one’s actions to have a sense of shame.” Also permeating his writings on the classics is his implacable opposition to the development of abstruse and esoteric flights of metaphysical fancy supposedly based on the classics—developments exemplified by the writings of Zhou Dunyi (1017–1073) and Shao Yong (1011–1077). Indeed, Gu’s essays on the classics are a vehicle for him to express his antagonism to the ramifications of Song and Ming neo-Confucianism in particular and metaphysical speculation on mind and nature in general.
Also of central importance to Gu are the issues of textual analysis alluded to previously. It is critical for Gu to bring clarification to the text as a route of access to the underlying concepts. For all the classics a substantial part of his writings is devoted to these issues—the meanings of characters, the interpretation of areas of controversy, and matters of historical or biographical importance. Finally, he gives thought to the use of the texts for didactic and examination purposes.
RZL 8–12: Administration and Economics
The essential themes running through these essays (HRC 8–12, YCB 11–16) are those of decentralization, devolution, and local autonomy. The cornerstone of an effective system of government was, for Gu, a well-structured local administrative apparatus staffed by men of exemplary character. Indeed, he would see moral cultivation as the foundation of an effective local officialdom, hence the importance he attaches to the education and selection of officials. In terms of particular offices, it is the prefects and district magistrates who assume central importance. In Gu’s view, history had seen a progressive decline in the prefectural system (junxian), which therefore needed to be restructured and revivified by major changes. He saw the process as depending on the injection of elements of the fengjian system (feudalism, decentralization). The restoration of a satisfactory situation, he thought, required the appointment of prefects and district magistrates, men of quality, with sufficient autonomy to allow them to function effectively. These men must, moreover, be motivated purely by the desire to further the well-being of the people and the land under their control.
In this section Gu also identifies several of the factors inimical to his concept of the ideal administrative structure. First, there is the proliferation of a complex bureaucracy that will shackle even the most able and upright of local administrators. Second, growing within, there is the canker of conniving and self-seeking petty functionaries motivated by base considerations of personal gain. Third, there are the defects in the way local officials are selected and deployed, including, particularly, the method of drawing lots, the dispatch of the men selected to far-flung regions with which they are unfamiliar, and the deleterious effects of short terms of office. Fourth, there are the harmful effects of an overelaborate and enmeshing network of legal restraints by which local officials can be entirely hamstrung. Finally, there are the evils associated with the participation of eunuchs in administrative matters, an issue to which Gu devotes two important essays. Thus, for Gu, the local magistrates must be men of worth, appointed to areas with which they are already familiar and which they can come to know better by long acquaintance. In their work, they must remain untrammeled by an oppressive overseeing superstructure and a debilitating gain-seeking infrastructure.
On a number of other administrative issues, Gu also makes clear and specific recommendations. Thus, in taxation the central pillar of his argument is that tax levies must be made in whatever commodity is most convenient to those being taxed, predominantly what is being produced by the taxed population (e.g., grain), and that tax imposts must be realistically linked to the capacity of the region concerned. In addition, there must be strict avoidance of corrupt misappropriation of tax revenue. Gu was also clearly opposed to schemes of “taxation in advance,” such as those proposed by Wang Anshi (1021–1086). On land distribution, Gu harks back to the ancient well-field system, while, on the apportionment of wealth, he identifies two aspects as fundamental. First, there must not be excessive concentration of wealth in the hands of the ruling house. Second, the individual pursuit of profit must be discouraged. Other matters to which he gives specific attention include the payment of officials, the reporting and control of malfeasance, the restriction of private ownership of military equipment, the utilization and maintenance of natural and man-made amenities, the rationalization and unification of the currency system, and the control of commodity and market prices.
Gu’s social prescription can be summarized by the somewhat idyllic picture of a contented peasantry laboring in equitably distributed land untroubled by needlessly meddlesome officials. A satisfactory distribution of the populace would see the majority occupying this position under the unobtrusive control of a wise and effective, paternalistic local administration thoroughly conversant with, and sympathetic to, the particular needs and capacities of the area under its jurisdiction. There would be, as a corollary, the avoidance of a concentration of people in the cities with the attendant evils of excessive corvée and litigation.
RZL 13–15: Customs and Mores
Much of the substance of Gu’s position on ethical matters is contained in sections 13–15 of the HRC edition and 17 and 18 of the YCB edition. The first of these sections in each case begins with a series of essays on different historical periods. In these, Gu links the flourishing and decline of society to the prevailing moral climate and in so doing establishes himself as both a proponent of the cyclical view of history and an adherent of the basic Confucian concept of virtue. Here, too, he articulates his opposition to the neo-Daoist developments of the Zhengshi reign period (240–248), with particular opprobrium being visited upon the practice of “pure talk” (qingtan ). The next three essays deal with specific factors important in regulating conduct, the first two (disinterested criticism and the role of trying to preserve a good reputation) are somewhat outside the standard Confucian teaching, while the third, on the importance of being honest and having an appropriate sense of shame, is well within it. There is also trenchant criticism of Wang Anshi for his administrative and educational policies. In subsequent essays, he further develops his basic ethical views, stressing the fundamental nature of li (proper conduct in interpersonal relationships, rites, ceremonies) and yi (right action, righteousness, justice). He also stresses, in separate essays, frugality and the avoidance of extravagance. Having outlined the fundamentals of morality, he goes on to say that the manifestation of these should be the basis for the selection of officials. In his treatment of the laws, he embraces a rather Legalistic position, somewhat at odds with his earlier Confucian leanings in this area. Strict laws strictly enforced with clear delineation and unswerving application, he sees as desirable. In sections 14 and 15 (HRC) and 17 (YCB) he gives specific consideration to various aspects of li , dealing with practices in terms of their moral worth and historical development.
RZL 16–17: The Examination System
The essays on this topic are in two sections in the HRC edition (16, 17) and in one section in the YCB edition (19). In the initial essays, Gu deals with terminology, endeavoring to bring clarity to derivation and usage. These several essays preface a discussion of the two paramount evils he thought had developed in the examination system during the course of history. First, he identifies the progressive diversion of attention away from the original classics and their commentaries and toward writing directed purely at examination topics. Second, he speaks of the progressive intrusion of corrupt practices into the conduct of the examinations. The main consequence of these two evils is, inevitably, a profound overall decline in scholarship. He also states here what he sees as the importance of historical studies and the desirability of incorporating them into the examination framework. Having outlined what might be termed the broad issues, he then directs his attention to more specific matters and offers some historical deliberations.
RZL 18–21: Literature and Philosophy
The essays in this category are grouped in four sections (18–21) in the HRC edition and in three sections (20–22) in the YCB edition. As with his writings on other matters, Gu’s essays on these topics are wide-ranging. On literature, he covers various issues, including storage of literary works and their accessibility, the means of documentation of official business, and questions arising in a number of individual works. He does, however, focus especially on two aspects: literature as a social instrument and the technicalities of composition. For Gu, writing should be original and not derivative nor imitative and certainly not tainted by the least drop of plagiarism. It should manifest simplicity—prolixity must be eschewed. Writing should be well wrought, with attention being given to technique, but at the same time it should be easy to understand. With regard to poetry, he embraces the view that verse, like prose, should be didactic and utilitarian, although not at the expense of style. It should, moreover, reflect the spirit of the era. Although Gu was much concerned with rhyme and other technicalities of verse, these are, for him, clearly secondary in importance to content, and he warns against the danger of too great a degree of attention being given to technicalities. Finally, and most importantly, writing should be an effective social instrument.
This section also contains two essays of fundamental importance for an understanding of Gu Yanwu’s philosophical position. In the first (18.12), he outlines the development of Daoism and Buddhism, linking the latter historically to the doctrines of Mo Di in the pre-Qin period. He subscribes to the conventional view of parallel streams in the development of Chinese philosophy, a variable combination of Daoism and Buddhism coursing alongside Confucianism. Not surprisingly, he voices his opposition to the former. In the second (18.13), he focuses on the development of neo-Confucianism, tracing this back to its origins in the classical writings and displaying how, in his view, later interpretations had become increasingly divorced from original meanings and how fundamental Confucianism had been rendered impure by admixture with the alien strains of Daoism and Buddhism.
RZL 22–32: Miscellaneous
The final major division of the Rizhi Lu (HRC 22–32, YCB 23–32) covers a variety of topics. Many of these essays are devoted to clarifying the meanings and usage of terms. On the issue of quotations, he stresses the importance of accuracy and appropriate attribution. In his writings on history and geography, there is a focus on the names of places and people. These are broadly related to questions of textual analysis and aimed at bringing clarity to predominantly ancient texts. He also gives consideration to matters of interest relating to historical events and personages and deals with various controversial or contentious passages, particularly in early writings. A section is devoted to ritual and ceremonial practices, with the underlying theme of the superiority of the ancient over the modern. In a further section, some general consideration is given to astronomy—that is, the development of the science and how, in ancient times, it formed part of the general body of knowledge rather than being an area of special expertise, as it later became. Consideration is also given to the relationship between celestial and terrestrial affairs. The final two sections are devoted to place-names and the usage and origin of certain common characters.
2. Collected Poems and Essays
The divisions in this work are based on the form of the writing rather than the subject matter. The style in this work is different in that there are far fewer quotes from other writings, while those that are used tend to be shorter. Overall, there is a much more personal tone in this material, especially in the letters, which is hardly surprising. As with the RZL, I consider the work under the six sections of the recent Tinglin Wenji.19 I treat the poems separately.
SWJ 1: Statecraft Essays
There are six essays in this section. The first three are relatively short and are about matters similar to those dealt with in the miscellaneous sections of the RZL. The other three essays, all multipart, correspond to material in the government and statecraft sections of the RZL (13–15 in the HRC edition) in two instances and to the sections on official examinations (16–17 in the HRC edition) in the third. All three are included in the translations and are considered in some detail here as they are important and direct statements of Gu’s developed position on these topics.
In the nine-part essay on the prefectural system, the fundamental tenet is that some of the principles of the earlier feudal system should be grafted onto the existing prefectural system as a means of effecting a significant degree of devolution. While Gu makes explicit his recognition of the inevitability of progression from a feudal to a prefectural system, he sees no insurmountable obstacle to a reintroduction of some aspects of the earlier system. For him, the major evil in the later system was an excess of centralized, bureaucratic control with the attendant paralysis of effective local administration and the probability of an increasing role for minor officials motivated by less-than-altruistic impulses. The key to bringing about decentralization, as proposed in this essay and elsewhere, is to appoint district magistrates who are men of proven integrity and scholastic worth as revealed by an appropriate selection system. Give these men a permanent position, and they will develop a substantial commitment to the area and community they serve. An effective local administration, based on the central role of district magistrates, obviates the need for an oppressive structure of overseeing officials and reduces the likelihood of minor officials’ stepping outside their prescribed functions.
In considering possible objections to this administrative framework, Gu recognizes three major areas of difficulty. First, without a suitable body of overseeing officials, the power of the district magistrates may become too great. Second, the hereditary succession of titles, which he proposes to achieve continuity of office and therefore commitment, may result in too great a concentration of power in the hands of one family. Third, the appointment of men to their own district, which Gu also advocates, may lead to preferential treatment for family and friends. Gu’s counterargument is, essentially, that none of these objections is relevant if the men selected are of a sufficiently high quality. This brings him back to the methods of selection, in which he favors the ancient over the modern, as one might expect. Thus, Gu envisages a series of semiautonomous local regions under the control of a district magistrate, appointed from the area and remaining within the area so his interests will coincide with those of the community he serves. As far as possible, each region should be responsible for its own destiny in matters such as provision of food and taxation.
In the two-part essay on taxation, Gu’s central thesis is that the tax levy should be paid in a commodity readily available to those paying; in other words, the people should be taxed on what they produce. On this score, he is particularly opposed to the use of silver as the medium of taxation. He recommends that the tax levied from various regions be in the commodity or substance appropriate to that region, and if this is not feasible, then in cash. In addition, he was opposed to excessive taxation, especially where this involved manipulation of tax levies for personal gain by officials. Nevertheless, in such instances he did not hold the officials themselves to be intrinsically at fault; he saw them, rather, as victims of the system. At different periods of history, officials were no more or less venal but merely likely to succumb to the human tendency to avail themselves of whatever advantage a particular system might offer.
The three-part essay on government students offers a trenchant criticism of this category of student, in terms of both concept and means of selection. As a consequence of the establishment of such a category, there was, in Gu’s opinion, an extraordinary proliferation of officials lacking a secure educational foundation. These were men who were concerned primarily with furthering their own interests and those of their families, without due consideration being given to the state—men, moreover, who were not averse to adopting illicit means to achieve their objectives. Much of the first part of this essay is devoted to possible alternatives, while the second part provides an extended consideration of the evils attendant upon the use of this system—in particular, faction or clique formation. Gu strongly advocates the scrapping of the category of government student and stresses how vital it is for all examinations to be devoted to the true concepts of the original classics and dynastic histories rather than to analyses prepared purely for examination purposes. The final part of the essay provides a detailed discussion of possible alternative methods of selection followed by some concluding remarks on the benefits that might accrue from the application of appropriate methods.
SWJ 2: Prefaces
Two of the prefaces in this section are included in the translations. The first is that to the Yinxue Wushu, a work of great importance in the development of the evidential learning (kaozheng xue) movement. Gu’s aim in this work was to bring clarity to the understanding of ancient rhymes—a clarity that could be gained only by a detailed study of the classics themselves and would, in turn, aid that very study. Once the foundation was established, the rhymes and pronunciations of later times could be properly understood and the accumulated errors of the centuries rectified. This most detailed and comprehensive work is, as clearly outlined in the preface, a component of Gu’s program to persuade scholars to return to their ancient, and Confucian, roots. The second preface is Gu’s own brief introductory statement to the first, eight-juan edition of the RZL published in 1670. In his preface to the Yi Li Zheng Zhangju Zhu (not included in the translations), written by Gu’s contemporary Zhang Erqi (1612–1678), Gu makes two important points: (1) he stresses the purpose of the Yi Li (Book of Etiquette) itself and the desirability of its inclusion in the official curriculum and (2) he reiterates his criticism of the more abstruse developments of neo-Confucianism. He also takes the opportunity to comment on the value of the stone carvings of the classics as a means of correcting textual errors.
SWJ 3, 4: Letters
These sections include two long letters to unnamed recipients on issues of particular importance to Gu (the Changes and learning or study generally), three letters to named recipients (his nephew, Xu Bingyi, Shi Yushan, and his student, Pan Lei), and twenty-five short letters to unnamed friends. The first of the long letters (included in the translations), “Letter to a Friend Discussing Learning,” allows Gu to expand on some of the central pillars of Confucianism, taken from the foundational writings, which might be expected to sustain the whole edifice of ancient learning in the face of possible degradation and destruction at the hands of later and misguided interpreters. The second long letter is about the Changes. In this, Gu stresses again the fundamental importance of this work. In the letter to his nephew, Gu offers a further strong criticism of the examination system, in particular the use of the eight-legged essay and its utterly derivative nature. Turn once more, Gu exhorts, to a broad study of the original classics. The letter to Shi Yushan contains a clear statement of Gu’s equation of the study of principle (lixue ) with the study of the classics (jingxue ), an important component of his philosophical position, and is a further statement of his opposition to Song neo-Confucianism. The twenty-five short letters to unnamed friends offer, in many instances, personal, and somewhat pithy, statements of a number of Gu’s major theses: the importance of diligent application to learning; the need to make one’s studies broad based; the importance of certain classical texts (here the Changes, Odes, and the Spring and Autumn Annals); the need for literature to be created with a view to practical application—that is, some ethical, social, or didactic purpose; the need to be cognizant of the old in planning the new; and, finally, the importance of rectifying the mind and benefiting from self-criticism.
SWJ 5, 6: Records, Inscriptions, and Other Writings
There are forty-three essays in these two sections. One essay from juan 5 is included in the translations, titled “The Pei Village Record,” which Gu uses to present his ideas on the importance of the clan system in local administration. From juan 6 only the four early essays on matters of administrative importance are included. On these, Peterson has written, “It is apparent [from their content] that they were written before the fall of Nanjing and may have been intended originally as bases for memorials to be presented to the Ming court.”20 In the essay on military matters, Gu contrasts favorably the system introduced by the first Han emperor with that introduced by his Ming counterpart—the weisuo system—and further contrasts the early and later developments of this system. He is opposed to the separation of agricultural and military components and also to the subdivision of functions within the military itself. The essay on historical geography focuses on identifying places of strategic importance in military terms and examining the reasons for their importance. The recognition of each place is generally prefaced by a consideration of its role in earlier conflicts. The essay on agriculture is a broad statement of the fundamental importance of the activity itself and the need to devise a suitable scheme for its effective pursuit. As in the preceding essay, the connection between agricultural and military matters is recognized, especially in the border regions, where an appropriate arrangement establishing a resident military force and the means to provide for it is seen as essential. The essay on money begins with a historical survey of the different monetary systems as a basis for a vigorous criticism of the then current system. In Gu’s opinion, there should be a more equitable and rational collection of taxes and a more appropriate redistribution of the wealth acquired by taxation. In general, Gu is very critical of the current dynasty’s use of money.
In summarizing Gu Yanwu’s ideas, it is clear that the opinions acquired by a detailed, critical, and analytical study of the classics formed the bedrock of his philosophical position. Thus he might reasonably be characterized as a “fundamentalist Confucian,” espousing the ethical and other philosophical views of the foundational texts and rejecting the increasingly elaborate metaphysical superstructure fashioned particularly by the Song dynasty neo-Confucians and further elaborated by their Ming successors. He was also strongly opposed to non-Confucian doctrines, most notably Daoism and Buddhism. On matters of statecraft, he makes many specific recommendations, but his basic position is one favoring a simplified, decentralized social organization, looking back to an idealized ancient model with a minimization of centralized control and avoidance of a complex and meddlesome apparatus of overseers. He was deeply concerned with the means of selection of officials and the examination system on which this depended. The key element of his thinking on these issues was that in order to create and identify officials of sufficient moral worth to serve society properly, teaching and examinations must be based on the original classics—and on all of them, not just one or two or later interpretative texts. On literary and textual issues he was wedded to the idea of writings that were carefully crafted, nonderivative, and easy to understand, and he emphasized the need for detailed textual study along the lines practiced by Chen Di (1541–1617).
On the matter of intellectual influences, there is no question as to what Gu looked to as authoritative texts. The writings that formed the entire foundation of his intellectual life were the classics—that is, all the classics in their original forms and accompanied by their early commentaries. In addition, the accumulated dynastic histories and other factual records of the vicissitudes of society were taken as reliable sources useful for forming or supporting his own views. Many postclassical writers are quoted by Gu—indeed, his essays are laced with quotations—but no one individual can be singled out as being especially influential. Certainly, Gu was not a member of any particular school that could be traced to postclassical sources, nor did he come under the influence of a particular philosopher. Nonetheless, some precursors can be identified: Song opponents of neo-Confucianism such as Chen Liang (1143–1194) and Ye Shi (1150–1223),21 the scholars of the Donglin Academy with their focus on practical issues, and to some extent Liu Zongzhou (1578–1645) in his opposition to Wang Shouren (Wang Yangming—1472–1528). Much clearer are those whom he oppugns—Xun Shuang (128–190) in Han times, those responsible for the development of the “pure talk” movement in the Three Kingdoms period, men such as Wang Yan (256–311), and the Song neo-Confucians (although his attitude to Zhu Xi [1130–1200] was somewhat ambivalent). He was also fiercely critical of Wang Anshi. Finally, among his Ming predecessors, Gu was clear in his opposition to Wang Yangming and Li Zhi (1527–1602).
A LASTING LEGACY
Unquestionably Gu Yanwu had a substantial and sustained influence on Chinese thought, extending from his own time into at least the early part of the twentieth century. He was a major force in the redirection of Confucianism away from the metaphysical abstractions that characterized the Song and Ming periods and back to what Gu saw as the fundamental components of Confucian teaching as fully articulated in the classical writings of the pre-Qin period, clarified and elaborated on where necessary by the textual studies of Han scholars. He was, then, a pioneer in the movements that became dominant during the Qing period—kaozheng xue and Han learning. There were many outstanding scholars over the last centuries of the second millennium who followed Gu along this road. Several important formative factors that were clearly instrumental in establishing the direction of Gu’s own thought have been outlined in the earlier sections—his unusual family situation and early education; the social, political, and philosophical climate; his contacts with friends and peers; and his experiences with the examination system. These and other factors, acting on the substrate of Gu’s “decreed nature,” led him to recognize the fundamental objective of learning and scholarship as being the ethical development of the individual, who then directed his attention to the ethical and social betterment of society as a whole. The central pillars of his endeavor, obvious particularly in the works considered in the present book, were as follows:
•  the importance of a detailed and painstaking study of the original classic texts and their early commentaries as a means of returning to the roots of Confucianism
•  the study of language as a means of gaining a deeper understanding of classical texts
•  the importance of studying a wide range of sources, particularly historical and geographical, to identify and understand which forces are favorable and which harmful to the proper functioning of society
Thus the key teachings and information were already there. It was discovering them and understanding them that Gu was concerned with. Added to this was the way he lived his life, with patent integrity and a manifest desire to improve society. This explains in part why Gu could appeal to a wide range of scholars and persuade them to follow him along the road he had set out on with the intent of leading society out of the chaos arising from the fall of the Ming house. What follows is a brief consideration of his influence in chronological sequence.
During the last part of the seventeenth century, both before and immediately after his death, it seems that Gu had relatively little actual influence given the limited availability of his writings and his political isolation due to his intransigent anti-Manchu stance. Moreover, he lacked any body of students absorbing and propagating his teachings. However, it does seem he had already established a reputation as an erudite and thoughtful scholar of some consequence while still alive. The eighteenth century was essentially a period of social stability in China. This may have developed under the alien Manchu regime, but it was stability nonetheless. During this period Gu’s influence was felt mainly in the flourishing of evidential research—here Gu’s methodology was much admired. It was characterized by Jiang Fan (1761–1831) as “taking past and present situations as references and using various materials to reinforce his arguments.” Scholars such as Zhao Yi (1727–1814) and Qian Daxin (1728–1804) produced works like the Rizhi Lu. The following three comments are of interest in this respect.
The first is a statement on the Rizhi Lu from the chief editor of the SKQS, Ji Yun (1724–1805):
Yanwu’s studies had a solid foundation. He read broadly but could also make something out of everything he studied. When he wrote on something, he must have studied meticulously its beginning and its end, and he adduced very strong evidence. His writing quoted facts extensively to support his arguments, and very few of them were shaky…. However, Yanwu lived in the late Ming and loved to talk about statecraft. He was prompted by what was happening then, and determinedly took the restoration of antiquity as his duty. Some of his ideas were awkward and difficult to implement; some of his other ideas were wishful thinking and too demanding.22
The second is a statement by Dai Zhen (1723–1777), which encapsulates comprehensively, but succinctly, what might be considered the underlying motive driving Gu in his textual studies: “The classics provide the route to the Dao. What illustrates the Dao is their words. How words are formed can be grasped only through [a knowledge of] philology and paleography. From the study of primary and derived characters we can master the language. Through the language we can penetrate the mind and will of the ancient sages and worthies.”23
The third is a brief comment from a modern scholar, Yu Ying-shi, who wrote, with reference to the early Qing period, “Philological explication of classical texts…replaced moral metaphysical speculation as the chief method for the attainment of Confucian truth.”24 In this endeavor, Gu Yanwu was at the forefront, his influence extending into the twentieth century, for example, in the person of Sun Yirang (1848–1908).
The nineteenth century saw rapidly changing circumstances in China with the beginning of a relentless downward spiral that was to see the end of the imperial period. In particular, there were major internal uprisings such as the Taiping Rebellion and increasingly aggressive incursions from Western nations, driven by unworthy aims and employing unworthy means. The situation was somewhat similar to that in which Gu’s thought developed—decay of the social structure and domination by an alien race. These developments saw attention turn more toward the political and social components of Gu’s thought. A notable example of his continuing influence was the building of a temple to Gu in Beijing in 1843, organized by He Shaoji and group of scholars who met there annually between 1843 and 1873 to discuss current affairs. Notable among the members of this group were Zeng Guofan (1811–1872) and Feng Guifen (1809–1874), two of the most politically significant men in nineteenth-century China. Brief quotes from both follow.
Zeng brackets Gu with Qin Huitian (1702–1764) in considering the importance of li , an increasingly important concept in Gu’s work. On Gu himself, he says, “The scholars of our dynasty regard Gu Tinglin as their master. Gu was put in first place in the Biographies of Qing Scholars. When I was reading his books, especially his writings which dealt with rituals, social customs and education, his determination to preserve what has been handed down and which waits for newcomers, and his determination to take responsibility into his own hands, really struck me…. I portrayed Gu and Qin as the first and second sages of our dynasty. Is there not a profound meaning in them!”25
Paul Cohen, in his work on Wang Tao (b. 1828), quotes Mary Wright as saying of Feng Guifen that he was “in many respects the very embodiment of restoration Confucians” and that in advocating as he did radical institutional reform at the local level, he was “following the ideas of his philosophical mentor Gu Yanwu.”26
Gu’s influence certainly remained strong in the early part of the twentieth century. In fact, the names Gu Yanwu, Huang Zongxi, and Wang Fuzhi were added to the Imperial Temple of Confucius in 1909. Two of his strongest advocates during this time were Liang Qichao and Zhang Binglin. The former was especially complimentary about Gu’s methodology, as the following quote from Benjamin Elman reveals. Having drawn attention to Liang Qichao’s account of Gu Yanwu’s Rizhi Lu as “the exemplary work that influenced scholars to record their findings with precision and detail,” Elman himself articulates what might be termed a definitive judgment on the work: “The dignity of the step-by-step empirical approach to knowledge based on wide reading and meticulous observation was an important element that model works such as the Rizhi Lu conveyed to scholars during the eighteenth century.”27
Zhang Binglin, who changed his name to honor Gu, saw part of Gu’s social prescription aimed at strengthening local power as relevant to defense against the Japanese threat from Manchuria.
In a relatively modern article quoted by Ku Wei-ying, probably from the Communist era (the actual source is not given), Gu is praised on the following four counts:
1.    his patriotism and admirable spirit of integrity and setting an example by his own actions;
2.    his adherence to existing reality and his spirit of studying in the service of existing politics;
3.    his uncompromising attitude toward, and criticism of, wrong ideas; and
4.    his methodologies of study28
These are, indeed, features that are not limited to any particular time or place!
NOTES ON THE TRANSLATIONS
In the present work there are translations of fifty-one essays from the RZL, thirty-one essays, letters, and prefaces from the SWJ, plus a small selection of poems from this work. In the majority of instances the initial translations were made using the two-volume, 1985 edition of Huang Rucheng’s Rizhi Lu Jishi and the 1980 edition of the Yuanchaoben Rizhi Lu. In the case of the RZL, revisions of previous translations and new translations were made using a combination of the 2007 Rizhi Lu Jiaozhu edited by Chen Yuan, which follows the HRC text and arrangement, and the 2011 Rizhi Lu Jiaoshi edited by Zhang Jinghua, which follows the YCB text and arrangement. In the case of the SWJ, the translations of the essays, letters, and prefaces were made using the 1959 edition of the Tinglin Shiwenji supplemented by the Xinyi Gutinglin Wenji edited by Liu Jiuzhou and published in Taiwan in 2000. For the poems the two editions listed in the introduction to that section were used.
The aim with the prose writings was to include at least one piece from each of the sections of both the RZL and SWJ. Each section is prefaced by a summarizing analysis of the contents of the section. In the case of the poems, a small selection was made from each of five periods of Gu’s life into which editors have divided them. Brief comments are appended to each poem to cite and clarify references where this was deemed necessary. Also translated and included in appendixes 3 and 4, respectively, are Zhang Binglin’s short preface to the then newly discovered manuscript that became the Yuanchaoben Rizhi Lu and Liu Zongyuan’s (773–819) well-known essay on the fengjian system, which should, as Bartlett has suggested, be read in conjunction with Gu Yanwu’s writings on the decentralization-centralization issue.