Section 18: There are twenty-three essays in this section dealing with a range of literary, philosophical, and examination matters. Six reasonably distinct subgroups can be recognized, as follows:
1. Five essays on the thirteen classics and the dynastic histories—writing that Gu sees as the foundation of a scholar’s education: one is about government-organized repositories of books (18.1), two are about the compilation of and commentaries on the classics (18.2 and 18.10), one is about a particular edition of the dynastic histories (18.3), and one is about Zhao Can’s work on the Five Classics (18.4).
2. Four essays on textual matters: one on errors in characters (18.5), one on plagiarism (18.20), and two on comparison and revision of ancient texts (18.21 and 18.22).
3. Six essays on specific works or authors: 18.6, 18.11, 18.17–19, and 18.23, which include essays on two Ming scholars, Wang Shouren and his work Zhu Xi Wannian Dinglun (18.17) and Li Zhi (18.18). The final essay (18.23) is on the Yi Lin.
4. Three essays on particular (and unrelated) official practices: one on “secret memorials” and their contribution to Veritable Records (18.7); one on tie huang 貼黃, or summarizing statements to memorials (18.8); and one on the recording of notes on business conducted with the emperor (18.9).
5. Three essays pertaining to examination matters: one on the literary basis of examinations considered in a historical context (18.14), one on the use of Daoist writings in the examinations (18.15), and one on prohibitory regulations directed against material not considered suitable for examination candidates (18.16).
6. Two essays on philosophical matters: one on the historical development of the study of Daoism and Buddhism as parallel streams of philosophical thought coursing alongside Confucianism (18.12) and one on the “learning of mind and heart,” or neo-Confucianism (18.13). This includes an important statement of his own philosophical position.
The statements that the sages of ancient times used in teaching people were as follows: their conduct should be filial and fraternal, loyal and trustworthy; their duties should be sprinkling and sweeping, answering and responding, and advancing and withdrawing; their reading should be of the Odes, the Documents, the Rites [San Li], the Changes, and the Spring and Autumn Annals; their use of themselves should lie in taking up office, retiring from office, and social intercourse; their service to the world should lie in carrying out official orders, influencing others by teaching, and administering penalties and punishments. Although “a harmonious conformity [to virtue] is realized within and the blossoming display of it is conspicuous without,”1 there is also the division between theory and practice [substance and function] that intersects with the theory of “not using the heart within.” This began from the study of Lao and Zhuang as practiced in the Warring States period, and there was the “beyond yi [right action, righteousness, justice]” of Gao Zi, as well as the “beyond the world, beyond things, and beyond life” of Zhuang Zi. From this, lofty and intelligent scholars rejected and slighted the Odes and Documents, taking them to be the dregs of what former kings used to bring good order to the world. Buddhism later entered China, and the theories they spoke of about peace, tranquility, and compassion were of the sort to move the affections and inclinations of the men of the times, and the various noble men of the Six Dynasties followed and embraced it. Taking the theory of quiet, tranquil, and free of delusion and extending this to the limit, they come to the perfection of no life and no death, and then entering Nirvana. This, then, is Yang Zhu’s egotism. Taking the theory of being kind, merciful, and benefiting things and extending this to the limit, they come to the perfection of saving all sentient beings and releasing them from the sea of suffering. This, then, is Mo Di’s universal love. What the world says is that if there is not a return to Yang, then there is a return to Mo, and Buddhism combines the two. The transmission was gradual, and later students of this subsequently referred to their books as the “Inner Canon” (Nei Dian).2 Going on from the purport of their established words, will they not come to, “I am a Buddhist within but outwardly a Confucian”? Internally a Buddhist and externally a Confucian—did this not come from the statements of the followers of Sengzhao,3 so how could men who were accomplished scholars also speak about it?4
The Huangshi Richao5 states,
The collected notes on the Lunyu Zengzi Sansheng Zhang record Yin Shi as saying, “Zengzi maintained moderation, therefore in acting one must seek it in the self.” The meaning of the phrase is already sufficient. They also record Xie Shi as saying, “The studies of the various schools all came forth from the Sage, and as they became increasingly distant from him, they also increasingly lost their truth. Only Zengzi’s studies emphasize using the mind on what is within and are therefore transmitted without being corrupted.” Now, the mind is what collects together the many principles and responds to the ten thousand matters. One who corrects his mind, corrects desires and acts to bring good order to the state and peace to the world. Confucius’s disciples never had the theory of exclusively using the mind that is within. Using the mind that is within is the theory of the Chan Buddhists of the present age. Lu Shi of Xiangshan responded by saying that Zengzi’s studies affirm what is within coming forth. The various schools affirm what is without entering and going out. Now, what is transmitted to the world are all the studies of the external entering and are not Master Kong’s truth. Subsequently, outside the Lunyu, he himself said he attained the teaching of nontransmission, and in general everything had its source in the theories of Xie Shi.6
Subsequently there was Zhu Xi, and he appropriately did away with this section in his “Collected Notes.”
Chu Shaosun revised the “Huaji Zhuan” [of the Shiji] using biographical records and various opinions as “wai jia” [outer schools]; in this he took the Six Classics to be “inner.”7 Confucians of the Eastern Han then took the Seven Appendixes to be “inner studies” and the Six Classics to be “outer studies.”8 Raising the writings of the books of prophecy and omens was the nature of one return and the heavenly dao 道 [Way] and could not be attained and heard.9 And now, after a hundred generations, all are obviously aware that this is not so. What are nowadays referred to as “inner studies” are no longer works of prophecy but have changed to be Buddhist books.
Comment: This is, perhaps, Gu Yanwu’s most detailed statement of his opposition to Song neo-Confucianism. Although in the title I have followed de Bary’s rendering of the term xin xue (i.e., as “mind-and-heart”), in the essay itself I have abbreviated this to “mind” only. De Bary offers a detailed analysis of the term and discusses Gu Yanwu’s essay (Wm. Theodore de Bary, Neo-Confucian Orthodoxy and the Learning of the Mind-and-Heart [New York: Columbia University Press, 1981], sp. pp. 168–75). The final paragraph is taken from the Yuanshaoben Rizhi Lu and does not appear in the Huang Rucheng edition.
The Huangshi Richao10 offers an explanation of the statement in the Documents that reads, “The mind of man [ren xin] is wavering; the mind of the Way [dao xin] is subtle. Be discriminating, be undivided, and firmly hold fast to the center.” One section says,
This section originally recorded the words of Yao in his decree to Shun, who extended this through his decree to Yu with the addition of further detail. Yao, in his decree to Shun, said, “Firmly hold fast to the center.” Now, Shun added the words “wavering, subtle, discriminating, and undivided” to come before “firmly hold fast to the center” as words that would cause him to examine carefully and be able to grasp the center. They were his words of instruction. They all gave primary importance to Yao’s statement, “Hold fast to the center” and developed it. Yao, in his decree to Shun, said, “If there is distress and want within the Four Seas, the position of emperor will come to a permanent end.” Now, Shun added [the passage from] “do not listen to unsubstantiated words” up to “respectfully cultivate any virtues that are desired in you,” this to come before “the heavenly revenue will come to a permanent end.” These were also a means of urging caution, so causing him to avoid “distress and want” and “coming to a permanent end.” These were words of warning. They all gave primary importance to Yao’s expression “permanent end” and developed it.11
The counsel to “hold fast to the center” was one of positive words; the warning of a “permanent end” was one of negative words. That is to say, Shun took all instructions and warnings that he formerly received from Yao, joined them together with his daily endeavors, and included them in his decree to Yu so the latter would know how to “hold fast to the center” and not come to a “permanent end,” and that is all. How could it have been for the sake of discussing mind [that Shun] set out his instructions and warnings! The present generation delights in talking of the study of mind, but this is to set aside the basic meaning of the whole passage and discuss only the mind of man [ren xin 人心] and the mind of the Way [dao xin 道心]. The extreme position is to focus only on the two characters dao 道 and xin 心 and equate the mind directly with the Way. That is, those who immerse themselves in the study of Chan Buddhism do not realize they are departing a very long way from the original purposes of Yao, Shun, and Yu in their giving and receiving of all under heaven.
Cai Jiufeng, in the commentary he wrote on the Documents,12 quotes Master Zhu’s [Zhu Xi’s] words, saying, “In ancient times, when the sages were going to hand on all under heaven to their successors, they never failed to hand on the method of government with it.” This may be said to show a profound understanding of the basic intent of the passage quoted. Not only did Jiufeng make clear by this the mind of emperors and kings, and that it was the foundation of government of the kingdom and pacification of the empire; his interpretation is certainly a correct [reading] of the principles [involved]. Those who subsequently presented his commentary on the Documents to the court took it to embody the theory of the three sages’ transmission of mind. The scholars of the age subsequently pointed to these sixteen characters from the Documents as being the essence of the transmission of mind.
And yet students of Chan [Buddhism] availed themselves [of these words] as proof [of their own theories]. I cannot help but think that the mind does not depend upon any such transmission. What prevails between Heaven and earth, what is the thread linking ancient and modern and is everywhere the same is li 理 [principle, pattern, coherence]. Li 理 is altogether encompassed in our minds and is verified in affairs and things. The mind is what creates a synthesis of this principle and distinguishes clearly between right and wrong. Whether a man is worthy or not, whether affairs are successful or not, and whether order or disorder prevails in the world are all determined by this. This is why the sages looked to and examined the matters of “insecurity,” “subtlety,” “refinement,” and “singleness [of mind]” and transmitted the way of “holding fast to the center,” so there was nothing that did not accord with li 理 and no tendency toward either “going beyond” or “not reaching.”
Chan studies had their origins in the works of Zhuang [Zhou] and Lie [Yukou]13—comical and playful words that were unrestrained and without scruple. They feared the manifestations of principle as being abnormal and erroneous, so any writings of the sages and worthies in the classics and commentaries that spoke of principle were all seen as bringing harm to the self. Therefore, [students of Chan] take principle to be a veil and point only to the mind. They say it cannot be set out in writings but can only be transmitted by its mental imprint. And so they do not wish to speak of principle, considering it to be a misleading word that has been passed down without sufficient analysis. The studies of sages and worthies extend from one mind to the practical application of mind throughout the empire and kingdoms, which is nothing other than the prevalence of principle. This is perfectly clear and comprehensible and is shared by all. It is something that has continued for a thousand years without interruption. How can one speak of its “transmission”! Common statements are insidious; even sages and worthies cannot help appropriating and using their words sometimes. Therefore, unworthy as I am, I offer my opinion on this.14
[Zhu Xi, in his] Zhongyong Zhangju, quotes Cheng Yi’s words, which say, “This tract is, then, the model of the mind as handed down by Confucius’s disciples.”15 That this also borrows the words of Buddhists cannot but be considered. In the entire Lunyu there are three references to mind. [The first] says, “At seventy I could follow what my mind desired without transgressing what was right.” [The second] says, “In the case of [Yan] Hui, for three months his mind would never be in opposition to ren 仁 [loving-kindness, benevolence]. [The third] says, “He stuffed himself with food the whole day and did nothing that used the mind.”16 These are similar to the admonition, “Hold it fast and it stays with you; let it go and you lose it.”17 The disciples never recorded this, so it is seen only in the Mencius. Now, not to study the Sage’s “grasping of the mind” and yet to recklessly speak of “following the mind” is what may be called “stuffing oneself with food all day and doing nothing that uses the mind” and “what he does in the course of the day once again dissipates what he had gained.”18
Tang Renqing,19 in replying to a friend’s letter, said,
Since the rise of the new learning and the celebrated scholars who wrote about it, those who pretended to put it into practice were by no means few in number. Nevertheless, when they spoke of learning, it was mind and nothing else. I have heard [he said] that in ancient times there was study of the Way; I have not heard of the study of mind. The two words xin 心 and xue 學 [mind and learning] are not mentioned in the Six Classics, nor are they in Confucius or Mencius. Nowadays, those who speak of learning say that mind is equivalent to the Way. And yet I do not understand this. How is it so? The purport of “insecure” and “subtle” lies in this, even if the great sages didn’t dare speak of it. Today many people castigate me for speaking of learning and neglecting mind; how is that easier to understand than your upbraiding me for not studying? I have no answer for you on this point. The Master said, “Is there a man who, for one day, can use his strength for ren 仁?” He also said, “If a man can for one day subdue himself and return to li 禮…” And he said, “Respectfully attentive for a whole day” in the conduct of affairs.20 I have not been able to do this.
Even if the disciples of the Master were to sustain it for a day or a month, he would still not acknowledge their love of learning. Even more so does this apply to those who are not able to sustain it even for a day.21 It is possible to say it is not learning, but I don’t know if what you refer to as learning is really ren. Or is it li? Or is it affairs? Or are you referring to mind? To set aside ren, li, and affairs [shi] in order to speak of mind is something even you know is impossible. Your purpose is surely to say that ren 仁, li 禮, and shi 事 [affairs] are all subsumed under mind, so that to use one’s strength for ren is to use one’s strength for mind; to recover li is to recover mind;22 and to conduct affairs is to make mind manifest. This I don’t understand, as I said before, and so may be said to be without learning.
He also says,
Addressing oneself earnestly to the practice of goodness is mind. Surely, then, “addressing oneself earnestly to the pursuit of gain” is also mind?23 An insecure mind distinguishes between good fortune and bad fortune and discriminates between man and beast. Even though a great sage must always maintain his guard, can he do so and dare to speak of the study of mind? The study of mind takes mind to be [the object of] learning. To take mind to be learning is to take mind to be nature. The mind may be able to make nature complete, but it cannot be nature. Therefore, to seek “lost mind” is right, but to seek “mind” is wrong.24 To seek “the mind,” then, is wrong, but to seek “in the mind” is right. What I consider to be the defect in this study of mind is precisely this seeking of mind. If the mind really depends on being sought, then mind is not of the same order as the self. The mind undoubtedly can be studied, so that to speak of controlling the mind through li 禮 or preserving the mind through ren 仁 is still a protection for the mind, is it not?
In the Lunyu [there is], “Those who are ren 仁 [loving, kind, benevolent, humane] come to rest in ren 仁.”25 Xie Shi [Xie Liangzuo], in his Collected Annotations [Jizhu], says, “The mind of ren does not differentiate between internal and external, near and far, coarse and fine. It is not the case that what is preserved is naturally not lost; it is not the case that what is ordered is naturally not disordered.”26 These are all words of Zhuang [Zhou] and Lie [Yukou] and are not what I take to be Confucian studies. In the Tai Jia, it is said, “He contemplated and studied the lucid decrees of Heaven.”27 The Master said, “Hui was a man who chose the use of the center. When he attained one good, he held it fast within his breast and did not lose it.”28 Therefore, hold it fast and it will be preserved; let it go and it will be lost. Not to rely on preserving it and yet naturally not to lose it—what kind of man is that?
Section 19: There are twenty essays in this section on various aspects of writing and literature. Essays 19.1–6 are on general matters: writing must be of benefit to the empire (19.1), not much writing is prized (19.2), the difficulties of writing (19.3), direct language (19.4), established words that are not of one time (19.5), and the large number of writers (19.6). There are then four essays on some negative aspects of literature—deceptive words, overelaboration, and imitation 19.7–10). Essay 19.11 examines the issue of simplicity versus complexity in writing. The next three essays are again on negative aspects: the affectation of imitating the ancients (19.12), repetition (19.13), and the unnecessary proliferation of prefaces and postfaces (19.14). There is an essay on the origins of biographical writing (19.15). The final five essays are on specific and essentially unrelated topics: tomb inscriptions and obituaries (19.16), rewards for writing (19.17), the relation of the writing to the writer (19.18), empty words (those that don’t contribute to meaning) (19.19), and obscure passages in ancient writings that can’t be corrected (19.20).
Since Tang and Song times, how numerous the literati have become! Certainly there are those who are not conversant with classical accomplishments and do not understand ancient and modern and yet style themselves literary men. Han Wengong [Han Yu], in his poem “Fu Dushu Chengnan,” wrote,
Why do you think literature is valued?
It is a field sown with the learning of the classics.
There is no source for muddy trickles in the streets;
at dawn they are full, by evening they are gone.
If a man cannot understand ancient and modern,
he is just like a horse or ox wearing clothes.
When such men act, they sink into wrongdoing,
much less can they hope for fame and praise.29
And yet when Liu Zhi of the Song gave instruction to his sons and grandsons, he always said, “Scholars ought to consider ability and judgment to be paramount. Once they acclaim themselves as literary men, they are no longer worthy to be so regarded.”30 This being so, is being renowned in the world as a literary man of sufficient importance? This is what Yang Ziyun meant when he spoke of “someone who collects my fine writings but does not accept what I really am.”31 Huang Luzhi said, “For the past several decades, teachers and noble men have used essays only to raise up and exhort later generations. There is, therefore, splendor without real substance.”32
In our own times, from the Jiajing reign period [1522–1566] on, there has only been this custom, and yet Lu Wenyu [Lu Shen] recorded the words of Liu Wenjing’s announcement to auspicious scholars, which Kongtong [Li Mengyang] strongly considered to be unjust.33 In the Song History it says, “Ouyang Yongshu, in speaking to his students, never touched on the subject of literature but only discussed politics, saying that literature stopped at being beneficial to the self, whereas a consideration of affairs can extend to things and others.”34
Han Wengong [Han Yu], in writing Fan Zongshi’s epitaph, said, “In antiquity all words certainly came from the men themselves, but in coming down to us the unskilled then plundered them. Subsequently, all pointed to former worthies, plagiarizing one another, and from Han times down to the present time, one style has been used.”35 This gets to the heart of the failings of the men of the present time. Thus, Zongshi’s writings can serve as a warning against the failings of the present day, and yet he, too, fails. In writing [literature] it is essential to have notes. For the time before Qin and Han it is possible not to have notes, but writings of the present day cannot be understood without them. This is to seek simplicity and yet to achieve complexity—it is a double failure. Confucius said, “In writing, all that is required is to convey the meaning.”36
The most important thing in writing is that it be comprehensible, regardless of whether it is complex or simple. When discussion of complexity and simplicity arises, the literature itself is forgotten. The complex passages in the Historical Records [Shiji] are certainly superior to the simple passages in the History of the Former Han. The simplicity in the New Tang History is not simplicity in the matters but simplicity in the writings; this is how it is defective.
“Shi Zi used Chen Zi to convey his message to Mencius, and Chen Zi used Shi Zi’s words to inform Mencius.”37 In this case there was no need for repetition; the meaning was already clear. [Elsewhere Mencius writes,] “A man of Qi lived with his wife and concubine. When his wife asked him with whom he had wined and dined, [he replied] that they were all worthy men. The wife informed the concubine, saying, ‘When our husband goes out, he sates himself with wine and food and then returns. When I asked him with whom he wined and dined, he told me they were all wealthy and honorable men, and yet no men of distinction ever come here. I shall watch closely and see where he goes.’ ”38 And again, “Formerly, someone gave Zichan of Zheng a live fish. Zichan directed his pond keeper to keep it in the pond. The pond keeper, however, cooked the fish, went back to Zichan, and said, ‘When I first let the fish go, it seemed restrained, but after a little while it seemed more at ease and then swam away joyfully.’ Zichan said, ‘It is in its element! It is in its element!’ ”39 In this case the repetition is important in describing the situation fully.
This is the subtlety of Mencius’s writings. If this were in the New Tang History, for the man of Qi it would certainly say, “His wife doubted him and watched him closely.” And in the case of Zichan, it would certainly say, “The pond keeper went out and laughed at him.” There would be these two sentences and nothing more. This is why the most important thing in writing is to be understood; it is not important for writing to be simple. Liu Qizhi said, “The New Tang History, in recounting events, prized simplicity and brevity in its words, therefore its descriptions of events were very condensed and not at all clear. In writing history this is a defect. Moreover, how is there complexity and simplicity in writing? Men of former times, in discussing this, said that when the wind blows, the water naturally rises, completing the pattern. If it does not come out naturally but has its meaning in complexity and simplicity, then this is a failing.”40 At that time the Jin Xin Tang Shu Biao said, “Its subject matter is greater than previously, but the writing is less good than that of the old [Tang History].”41 That in which the New Tang History falls short of the ancients—indeed, its defects—can truly be identified in these two statements.
In the Huangshi Richao it is written,
Su Ziyou, in his Gu Shi, changed the Historical Records [Shiji] in many instances where it was not right. For example, in the biography of Chu Lizi, the Shiji says, “His mother was Han’s daughter. Chu Lizi was humorous and very wise.” The Gu Shi says, “His mother was Han’s daughter. She was humorous and very wise.” This indicates that the mother was humorous. This being so, how can the three characters “Chu Lizi” be omitted? In the biography of Gan Mao, the Shiji has, “Gan Mao was from Xiacai. He served the Xiacai historian in raising the study of the theories of the hundred schools.” The Gu Shi says, “The Xiacai historian raised the study of the theories of the hundred schools.” This is as if the historian himself studied the theories of the hundred schools. If this is the case, how can the one character shi [historian] be omitted?42
From these examples we know that it is impossible to achieve merit in writing by reducing the number of characters. If it were possible to reduce the number of characters, the Grand Historian [Sima Qian] would have reduced them long ago.
Section 20: There are thirty essays in this section covering a range of topics of a literary nature. The first (20.1) concerns the word gong 公, particularly in the term san gong 三公 (Three Dukes). Essays 20.2–8 are about the recording of times and the dating of events, especially in early works such as the Spring and Autumn Annals. There are six essays on various aspects of reign titles (20.9–12, 20.15, 20.16). Essay 20.13 is on a specific work—The Western Study Record by the Tang scholar Sun Qiao 孫樵. There are three essays on the Comprehensive Mirror (Tong Jian), dealing with, respectively, the recording of reign titles (20.14); the use of the word zang 葬 (“to bury”—20.17); and the use of the term run yue 閏月(intercalary month, 20.18). Of the remaining twelve essays, five are about the recording of the names of persons or places in historical writings (20.19–23), and four concern aspects of the approach to, and quoting from, ancient writings (20.24–27). The final three essays are of a somewhat general nature: 20.28 is on the use of yue 曰 to introduce quotations, 20.29 is about the introductory sentences in historical writings, and 20.30 is on the division of topics in historical writings.
Whenever there is transmission of the words of the ancients, it is certainly appropriate to quote the one who established the words.43 Also, if one of the ancients transmitted the words of another, then both should be quoted. It is not acceptable to plagiarize and consider the words to be one’s own. In the Odes it is written,
From of old, before our time,
former men set the example.44
Cheng Zhengshu [Cheng Yi], in his commentary on the weiqi diagram in the Changes, says that the three yang lines have all lost their position; and he says this meaning was what he heard from a hermit of Chengdu.45 This, then, is a case of someone’s not daring to fail in giving due recognition to the words of a contemporary. The humility of the noble man is a prerequisite for being able to make progress in scholarship.
Section 21: There are thirty-six essays in this section, and they are predominantly about poetry. The first three are somewhat general: on the purpose of poetry (21.1); on the point that it is not necessary for all men to write poetry (21.2); and on the titles of poems, referring to the ancient practice of taking the title from within the poem and the later practice of deciding on a title first (21.3). There are seven essays on aspects of rhyme (21.4–9, 21.15). Essays 21.10–14 are about technical aspects of verse. There are then four essays on other and diverse aspects: 21.16 on the Bailing Terrace, built by Han Wu Di to house poets; 21.17 on the evolution of styles in poetry; 21.18 on calligraphy in poetry; and 21.19 on variations in old stories in poems by later writers. There are then five essays on errors in the verses of specific poets (21.20–24). Two essays are about certain characters in writing more generally (21.25 and 21.26). There are six essays on specific works: the Shuowen (21.27); the Shuowen Changjian (21.28); the Five Classics in the old text (21.29); the Jijiu Pian (21.30); the Qianzi Wen (21.31); and the Jinshi Lu (21.33). The remaining four essays are on draft writings (21.32), the use of simplified characters in printing (21.34), drawings (21.35), and literary references to ancient implements (21.36).
Shun said, “Shi 詩 poetry is an expression of [the poet’s] aspirations toward virtue.”46 This is the fundamental aspect of shi poetry. In the “Royal Regulations” chapter of the Book of Rites, there is the statement, “An order was given to the grand preceptor to arrange the Odes as a means of examining the ways of the people.”47 This is the use of poetry. Xun Zi, in discussing the “Xiao Ya” section of the Odes, said, “There was criticism of the government of the day in order to recall that of the past. The words have an elegance in them; the sounds have a melancholy in them.”48 This is the emotion of poetry. Thus, the Odes was the “traces of kings.”49 From the Jian’an period [196–219] on down to the Qi [479–501] and Liang [502–556] periods, the fu 賦 [rhymed prose] of ci 辭 [elegiac] poets found beauty by going to excess,50 so failing by a long way to fulfill the purpose of poetry.
The Tang poet Bai Juyi, in a letter to Yuan Weizhi, wrote, “As the years pass and experience grows, each time I speak with people, I deliberate a lot on current matters. Each time I read the Documents and Histories, I seek mainly li 理 [principle, pattern, coherence] and the dao 道 [the Way]. This was when I first realized that literature should be written to accord with the times and that poems and songs should be in accord with affairs.” So in arranging his own poems, he designated as satirical poems those that praised the good and ridiculed the bad, comparing himself to Liang Hong and his composition of the “Wuyi Song.” He said, “Of those who appreciate this poetry, both Deng Fang and Tang Qu are dead, while you and I are both in distress. How could it be borne if Heaven wished to destroy the six forms of verse in the first songs in the four sections of the Odes! Further, can we assume that Heaven does not intend to make the troubles and sufferings of ordinary people known to the emperor?”51 Ah, alas! Bai Juyi can be said to be someone who knew “the purpose of establishing his words.”52
Ge Hong of the Jin period, styled Baopu Zi, said, “In ancient times, poetry criticized errors and failings. Therefore, it was of benefit and was valued. Nowadays, poetry is nothing more than empty words and so is flawed and worthless.”53
The three hundred verses of the Odes could not do otherwise than fall away to the Chu Ci [The Songs of the South]. The Chu Ci could not do otherwise than fall away to the verse of the Han and Wei periods. [The verse] of the Han and Wei periods could not do otherwise than fall away to the verse of the Six Dynasties. The verse of the Six Dynasties could not do otherwise than fall away to the verse of the Tang period. These changes were determined by circumstances. If one uses the style of a particular period, one will certainly conform to the literature of that period, so establishing a standard. The styles of prose and poetry fall away with time because they cannot do otherwise than change. If the literary style of one period were to continue over a long period, people would be writing the same things all the time. Now, however, after the passage of many years, there is still the use of old-fashioned words that are imitated time and again. And this is considered poetry! But is it acceptable? If there is not conformity, there is loss of what is considered poetry, and if there is conformity, there is loss of individuality. The reason why Li Bai and Du Fu are alone among Tang poets in scaling the heights is that they never failed to conform and yet never conformed. Only those who understand this can properly discuss poetry.