The Trap of Words Political P

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The trap of words: P olitical power, cultural authority, and

language debates in M ing D ynasty China
Schorr, Adam Wilder, Ph.D.

University of California, Los Angeles, 1994
Copyright © 1994 by Schorr, Adam W ilder. All rights reserved.
300 N. ZeebRd.
Ann Arbor, MI 48106
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
Los Angeles
The Trap of Words:

Political Power, Cultural Authority, and Language Debates
in Ming Dynasty China
A dissertation submitted In partial satisfaction of the

requirements for the degree Doctor of Philosophy
in East Asian Languages and Cultures
by
Adam Wilder Schorr
1994
© Copyright by
Adam Wilder Schorr
1994
T he dissertation o f A dam W ilder Schorr is approved.
Richard E. Strassberg
Robert E. Buswell, Jr., Committee Co-chair
0<• ZQ-
Benjamin A. Elman, Committee Co-chair
University of California, Los Angeles
1994
ii
Contents
Introduction.....................................................................................................1
C h a p te r 1
Politics, Language, and Morality in the Early Ming
Linguistic Skepticism in Song Daoxue..................................................17
Praise as Slander: the Language Paranoia of Zhu Y uanzhang 35
Zhu Di and the Literary Confucians..................................................... 46
W u Yubi: Political Alienation and Language Pathos..........................50
Snares and Signposts on the Path to Sagehood.................................... 55
Literary and Other Asceticism ...............................................................65
C h ap ter 2
Chen Xianzhang and the Poetics of the Political Margin
The Grand Secretariat and the Poetics of the Political Center........... 71
Chen Xianzhang and the Poetics of the Political M argin................... 81
Retreat from the W ord............................................................................87
The Quest for Acceptable Language..................................................... 94
The Argument for Poetic Language.....................................................101
Common Language............................................................................... 109
Political Engagem ent............................................................................119
Political Retreat......................................................................................134
The Distress of W ordlessness.............................................................. 143
C h a p te r 3
Words and Morality: the Politics and Poetics of Li Dongyang
and the Seven Masters
Li Dongyang's Poetics of the Political C enter................................... 155
Li Mengyang and the Renewed Pursuit of the Moral W ord............. 178
Word and "Method".............................................................................. 199
Li Mengyang's Rejection of Literati Language................................. 211
C h ap ter 4
Wang Yangming's Doctrines and the Struggle for the Political Center
Reconsidering the Wang Yangming Enlightenment N arrative 226
Ambivalence toward Language.......................................................... 244
Escaping the Trap of Language.......................................................... 254
The Great Ritual Controversy..............................................................263
Conflict with the Political C enter....................................................... 272
Liangzhi: the Language of the Political M argin................................287
C h ap ter 5
Connoisseurship and the Defense against Vulgarity:
Yang Shen and his Work
Optimus Y ang....................................................................................... 297
Redefining Literati Learning: Dao as A rt...........................................300
Philology and Forgery: Displays of Linguistic M astery...................314
Textual Connoisseurship......................................................................325
Vulgar W ords........................................................................................334
Strange W ords........................................................... .......................... 341
C h ap ter 6
The Center is Empty: Local Power, Cultural Competition
and the Maintenance of Elite Identity in the Late Ming
Decline of the C enter........................................................................... 359
From Merchant to Literatus.................................................................374
Elite Reaction: the Aestheticization of C ulture.................................383
Late Ming Gardens: Erasure of the Urban......................................... 399
The Vulgarization of Late Ming Elite Culture.................................. 404
New Standards in the Late M in g ........................................................ 420
Language and Evidential Learning..................................................... 429
C onclusion ................................................................................. 438
Selected Bibliography.............................................................................. 448
iv
VITA
1982 B.A., Chinese Studies and Political Science

University of California
San Diego, California
1985 M.A., History

University of California
San Diego, California
1988-89; 89-90 Title VI Foreign Language

Area Specialization Fellowship
1990-1991 Dissertation Research, Committee

on Scholarly Communication with the People's
Republic of China Dissertation Grant
1991- Instructor
Humanities and Social Sciences
UCLA Extension
Los Angeles, California
PUBLICATIONS
Schorr, Adam Wilder. (1989). Buddhist Rhetoric and Ming Dynasty

Poetry and Painting Criticism. Journal of Asian Culture, 13:17-42.
_______ , and Shih, Shu-mei. (Spring 1992). A Translation of Wang

Zengqi's "Revenge". Renditions. 37: 35-42.
_______ , and Shih, Shu-mei. (1992). A Translation of Chen Ruoxi's

"Suyue's New Year's Eve". The Short Stories of Chen Ruoxi. edited by
Hsin-sheng C. Kao. Edwin Mellen Press: 153-172.
_______ . (1993). Philology and the Defense against Vulgar Learning:

Yang Shen (1488-1559) and his Work. Monumenta Serica 41: 89-128.
ABSTRACT OF THE DISSERTATION
The Trap of Words:

Political Power, Cultural Authority, and Language Debates
in Ming Dynasty China
by
Adam Wilder Schorr

Doctor of Philosophy in East Asian Languages and Cultures
University of California, Los Angeles, 1994
Professor Benjamin A. Elman, Co-chair
Professor Robert E. Buswell, Jr., Co-chair
The dissertation is an interpretive study of Ming dynasty cultural

history from the standpoint of literati debates over the function and
value of written language. The debate over language played an important
role in most every major political, literary, and philosophical controversy
of the Ming dynasty, and in this work I map the contours of the debate
as various players used the status of the written language and the critique
of the same in their efforts to claim political and cultural authority.
After providing a brief history of the debate over language, and a
rather more lengthy description of the problem of language in Song
dynasty Daoxue, I examine key spokesmen in the evolving debate over
the status of the written word in the Ming. First, I show that a faith in
vi
the written word was fundamental to the politics and poetics of the
Ming political center, especially the Grand Secretariat. In contrast, and
in reaction, to the perceived degeneracy of the political center, I describe
how politically marginalized literati expressed increasingly grave doubts
about the efficacy of language to transmit morality. I argue that this
tendency culminated in the mid-Ming philosophical doctrines of Wang
Yangming and the victory of his followers over the Grand Secretariat in
the Great Ritual Controversy.
Beginning with one member of the defeated faction in the
Controversy, Yang Shen, who has also been called the founder of Ming
evidential learning, there was a renewed emphasis on the status of the
written word and the importance of linguistic skill in defining cultural
authority and social status. In the late Ming, the center of literati culture
was no longer the political center, but the Jiangnan region. Literature as
moral expression became eclipsed by literature as a marker of taste and
social status in this highly commodified and highly competitive cultural
milieu. I argue that it is the linguistic and literary connoisseurship of
Yang Shen, and not the anti-linguistic doctrines of Wang Yangming,
which most closely defines late Ming literati culture.
vii
Introduction
This study began with my interest in a fascinating and highly

neglected mid-Ming figure, Yang Shen (1488-1554). Although the
scope of the study gradually grew to encompass the entire Ming dynasty
(1368-1644), from my initial research on Yang Shen I developed key
points in my understanding which determined the orientation of the
entire project. Foremost among these was the recognition of the
importance of language, especially the written word, in Yang Shen's
view of the cultural traditions he strove to uphold and to which he
contributed, and his view of himself as a literatus (shidaifu, ± ^ : ^ ) .
Subsequently, I came to discover the centrality of competing attitudes
toward written language in the vociferous political and cultural debates
of the Ming dynasty as a whole.
While perhaps not foregrounded by literati themselves, I would
argue then that the debate over language was involved in some aspect of
all major scholarly, philosophical, literary, and even political controversies
in the Ming dynasty. This claim needs some defense, and ultimately the
evidence for such a hypothesis lies in the body of this study. Assessing
the veracity of this hypothesis, however, is hardly my primary goal. I
am much more interested in how the perspectives of Ming cultural
history shift when we view issues in politics, philosophy and literature
from the perspective of the fundamental linguistic assumptions of the
actors involved.
One indication that language attitudes may be a profitable point
of departure for a study of Ming cultural history is the degree to which
they compliment traditional Chinese categorization. This is not to suggest
that we must limit our discussions to the confines of native categories,
though one should proceed with some caution. I myself struggled for
some time trying to explain traditional Chinese philosophy of language
using the conceptual vocabulary of Sausurrean linguistics. Ultimately I
abandoned it in favor of the traditional categories of "words" (spoken
words g ; §g, or written characters j t; IS) and "intention" M (often
synonymous with what we call "meaning"). I believe we should not
treat Chinese categorizations as archaic, imperfect tools with which the
Chinese attempted to know and described their world, but guidelines
that they followed, consciously or unconsciously, in their construction
and reconstruction of the cultural landscape.
Having said this, it is noteworthy that a focus on language attitudes
divides up the Chinese world in some basic ways that mirror traditional
practices. Here the most important example is the conventional distinction
between northern and southern literary styles. The tension between
simple, direct speech whose aim was to convey meaning versus literary
embellishment governed by aesthetic considerations was one of the major
themes in the language debates of the Ming. In an associated phenomenon,
we also find that approaches to language differentiated the culture of
exile-typically in the extreme South-from the culture of the capital,
again a tension appearing in Chinese letters at least as early as Qu Yuan
HiH (343-277 BC). In the Ming this distinction took on particular
relevance because the culture of exile became a major force in the
development of literati culture. One of the preoccupations of marginalized
literati in the Ming was a strong antipathy for what they perceive as the
degenerate culture of the political center, their response to which was, in
part, a search for new, moral standards of language.
The focus of this work is also a recognition that the manipulation
of written language lies at the heart of Chinese political culture, and,
according to some, accounted for its defects. The road for anyone
aspiring to officialdom -w hich was everyone who had the requisite
background, with a few notable exceptions-could for the most part be
accessed only via the literary exam inations.1 Excellence in letters
tended to be equated with excellence in government, and this was
particularly true for the Ming, for reasons we will examine. W e may
add that literary skill was a key ingredient in establishing social and
power relations outside of officialdom as well. Although the Ming is
not recognized as an age of poetry, poetry, and to a lesser extent other
literary arts, did much to define identity, status, and power. The precise
function of language becom es a central problem in such an
overwhelmingly literary culture, however, exactly because its purely
literary character was for the most part denied. The examinations were
ostensibly designed to recruit moral men, not literary adepts, for instance.
'Some have argued that given the institutions built around the state orthodoxy,
the schools, national university, and examination system, it did not matter so much
what the content of the orthodoxy was, as long as there was an orthodoxy. If we
mean that the real purpose of the examinations was the reproduction of elite society
and the disenfranchisement of the majority of individuals from government service,
this may be true. However, from the standpoint of a shared shidaifu cultural identity,
and the very nature of the examinations, Buddhism or Daoism could never have
replaced Confucianism as state orthodoxy. For one thing, the literary nature o f the
examinations themselves were sanctioned by the very orthodoxy it supported. While
many shidaifu may have criticized the examinations for devolving into an empty
literary exercise, few would claim that the mastery of wen was not central to the
Confucian agenda. In addition, while enlightenment and immortality were the fruits
of Buddhist and Daoist learning, there was clear recognition that the optimus of the
metropolitan examinations was not a sage. He was, however, a master of wen.
Thus the examination system with Confucianism as the state orthodoxy worked to
retain wen at the center of literati life and identity.
The fact that Ming Chinese paid so much attention to language
suggests that if we are to understand them we ought to do the same as
well. An important methodological consideration, given that the object
of our inquiry is language, is also the manner with which Ming literati
actually used language. A shift away from an exclusive concentration
on concepts and the key terms of a discourse, and instead privileging the
manner in which any particular discourse is enunciated, can provide
insights otherwise missed. In this regard metaphor stands out as
particularly useful, as an indicator of linguistic orientation as well as
revealing vital social and political shadings. These shadings are most
crucial. They reflect individual dispositions even though the general
point and key vocabulary may be wholly borrowed from elsewhere.
They also provide us with important clues to underlying motivations.
I should also make explicit my belief that certain points in our
conventional descriptions deserve to be challenged, and there are indeed
several areas where the conventional description of the Ming cultural
landscape shifts when examined from the perspective of language
attitudes. Foremost in my mind, the view of Confucian learning in the
Ming as largely a debate between Zhu Xi's (1130-1200) study of
Principle (lixue H U ) and Wang Yangming's (1472-1529) study
o f Mind (xinxue ^ ^ ) takes on quite different proportions when we
focus on debates over the nature and use of language rather than debates
over the terms of Daoxue (study of the Dao, most closely associated
with the so-called Cheng-Zhu school). Rather than Zhu Xi and Wang
Yangming occupying opposite sides, their common distrust of language
places them together on one side of the language-attitude continuum.
On the othc>: side we find individuals with a strong faith in the value of
language who have been neglected by modern scholarship, but who
were nevertheless extremely influential. Yang Shen is the main example
in this work, and he is joined in his faith in language by many, from
Yang Shiqi H i f f (1365-1444) to Yuan Hongdao (1568-1610).
Certainly the conventional view of the Ming dynasty from the
perspective of the Qing (1644-1911) deserves some emendation. The
vision of the Ming intellectual landscape in terms of an amalgamation
of philosophical schools provided by Huang Zongxi (1610-95)
and others remains influential and highly distortive. The more modem
attempts to view the Ming as the source of m odernity-whether that be
defined as the sprouts of capitalism, the Chinese enlightenment, scientific
method, or even modem political tensions-have also tended to take as
their point of departure the late Ming, effectively divorcing that period
from the early and mid-Ming contexts. While increased urbanization,
commercialization and, to a lesser extent, social mobility were peculiar
to the late Ming, the way literati responded to the changes in their world
had roots earlier in the dynasty.
Focusing on the problems of language also provides the opportunity
to step outside the confines of the broad categories of modem scholarship,
necessary if we are to be at all comprehensive in our approach to the
study of a China where philosophers were poets and poets were politicians,
among other things. The portrait of Wang Yangming him self-a man
who struggled with the problem of language his entire life, as a poet,
philosopher, and political player-is a case in point. The attempt to
create a more comprehensive picture also brings with it its own limitations,
however. Language debate in the Ming was diffuse, simultaneously
played out in a number of cultural areas whose participants were alternately
emperors and commoners, officials and exiles, poets and pedagogues,
moralists and libertines, making a comprehensive treatment impossible.
1 seek instead to provide a general survey of the Ming cultural landscape
from the perspective of literati attitudes toward language, focusing on a
necessarily limited selection of individuals who nevertheless represent
the landscape's major contours.
To give a preliminary outline of the Ming cultural landscape from
the perspective of language, we could point to the discursive space
bordered by Han Learning (Hanxue H P ) and Song Learning (Songxue
^ P ) . In terms of language attitudes, this roughly corresponds to zhongwen
qingdao (stressing literature and slighting the Dao) on the part
of Han Learning and vice versa for Song Learning, although I would
hasten to add that few Ming literati would accept such a see-saw analogy,
nor would they necessarily view the options available to them in these
terms. In any case, Ming literati viewed the cultural issues in which the
problematics of language were embedded from various positions within
the cultural landscape, and these positions influenced their choice of
discursive possibilities. These individual positions, whether at the political
center or margin, whether motivated from a personal moral vision or a
desire to occupy the cultural high ground vis-a-vis their political
opponents, all in turn then contributed to the contours of the landscape.
Over time, the boundaries of Ming language discourse changed. In very
approximate terms we can see a shift from linguistic skepticism to
linguistic confidence (or more accurately perhaps, a lack of skepticism),
although again, my interest here is on the contours and the internal
dynamics that underlay such a shift.
The language discourse in which Ming literati participated was of
course not entirely their own, but in large measure inherited from the
past. One could say that these inherited language beliefs formed the
boundaries of the Ming cultural landscape. For the most part Ming
literati navigated within these boundaries, though I would stress that the
contours of the landscape were constructed by Ming literati themselves,
with the past always serving contemporary purposes. Given that the
problem of language was part of an ongoing debate that first erupted
during the Warring States era, it is helpful to begin with a description of
the discursive boundaries by providing a brief overview of the salient
features of traditional language discourse.
Anyone with even a cursory knowledge of Chinese culture
recognizes that the Chinese have a deep respect for the written word.
Beyond this, however, there have always existed competing perceptions
of the nature and value of the word, even in the earliest strata of Confucian
culture where reverence for the word was most entrenched. In the
Lunyu MIp [Analects] we find no overt description of Kongzi's philosophy
of language, although we can infer the fundamentals. Kongzi's statement
that he transmits but does not create (shu er bu zuo MiM:FfP)2-th e
reference here is textual rather than practical—tells us first that Kongzi
had faith in language, in its capacity to instruct, which in turn presupposed
a capability of language to transmit the moral understanding of the
ancient sages. The marriage of language and morality is implied by
Kongzi when he says: "Those who are moral must speak."3 In the
works of Kongzi's disciple Xunzi, this faith in language is given its
2Lunyu zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu (Beijing: Zhonghua

shuju, 1979), Vol. 2 , 7.25c.
3Ibid., 14.54a.
clearest articulation:
He [the gentleman] rectifies his names and makes his words

appropriate in order to make clear his intention.4 His names
and words are the messengers of his intention.5
Here Xunzi registers his faith in the ability of the word to convey
intention, or "meaning."
There had always been a much stronger ambivalence toward the
written word in non-Confucian teachings, exhibited initially in the Daoist
texts the Daodejing U til® and the Zhuangzi SET1and later in Buddhism,
especially Chan. The Zhuangzi stands out as the most thorough articulation
of Daoist philosophy of language and critique of the Confucian language
agenda. Using the metaphor of a fishtrap, the Zhuangzi questions the
identification of the word with intention found in the Confucian tradition:
"The trap is there for the fish. Catch the fish, and forget the trap.... The
word (yan s') is there for the intention (yi M)- Catch the intention and
forget the word."6 The author here holds out the possibility of fish
being caught in a trap, of some level of meaning communicated by the
word. The success of the fisherman's endeavor depends, however, upon
his ability to distinguish between the fish and the trap. Words, it seems,
can be useful, but only to a point, after which they must be discarded.
The fatal confusion of the word with its meaning is always present. If at
any point the reader mistakes the trap for the fish, he will end up with
4Xunzi here does not distinguish between the intention of the speaker and
the meaning of his words.
sXiong Gongzhe, ed., Xunzi jinzhu jinyi [The Xunzi, with Contemporary
Commentary and Translation] (Taibei: Commercial Press, 1985), 469.
6l'Waiwu," Zhuangzi yinde (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1988), 75/26/48.
empty words, missing the intention entirely. The salient lesson here is
that words are distinct from intentions.
In the "Way of Heaven" chapter of the Zhuangzi, a much more
negative appraisal of the capability of the word is presented: Bian the
wheelwright tells Duke Huan that the words of the sages he is reading
are nothing but "chaff and dregs."7 Asked to explain himself, Bian
uses shaping a wheel as an example: "Not too gentle, not too hard—you
can get it in your hand and feel it in your mind. You can't put it into
w ords...."8 Bian knows how to shape a wheel, but just cannot verbalize
it. Similarly, the sages knew the Dao, but were never able adequately to
express it in language. It is important to note that the problem of
transm ission is perceived to lie within language, not the absolute,
transcendent, or ineffable quality of the Dao. After all, the fashioning
of a wheel is a mundane affair. The fact that it cannot be communicated
is not because of its esoteric nature, but because words cannot fully
convey intention.
W ritten closer in time to the Zhuangzi, the Mengzi iST1 exhibits a
higher sensitivity toward language issues than found in the Lunyu. In
what I would argue is a significant development in Confucianism, in the
M engzi we find the first instance where the gap between word and
intention is not only recognized, but also adopted by a Confucian. This
recognition in the hands of a Confucian meant something quite different
than it did to the Daoist. Unlike the Daoists, who rejected textual
orthodoxies, Confucians were dependent on the Classics for moral and
7"Tiandao," ibid, 36/14/70.
®Ibid., 36/14/72.
linguistic standards. Therefore a recognition of the Daoist claim that a
gap existed between word and meaning influenced the way a Confucian
would read a text. In the Mengzi we find a new approach to reading a
text which devalues the literal interpretation of the word.
In the following exchange between Mengzi (372-289 BC) and a
disciple, we find Mengzi looking beyond the literal meaning of the text
of the Poetry Classic in order to clarify its meaning. The disciple,
Xianqiu Meng, wonders why King Shun (r. 2356-2257 BC) did not treat
his father as a subject given the following poem in the Shijing WM
[Poetry Classic]:
There is no territory under Heaven

Which is not the king's;
There is no man within the borders of the land
Who is not his subject.
Mengzi responds:
This is not the meaning of the ode, which is about those who
were unable to minister to the needs of their parents as a result
of having to attend to the king's business. They were saying,
"None of this is not the king's business. Why are we alone
overburdened?" Hence in explaining an ode, one should not
allow the written words (wen X ) to harm the phrases (ci !?),
and not allow the phrases to harm the will (zhi ;§). Take the
intention/meaning (yi M) and return it to the will [of the author].9
Mengzi here takes for granted that meaning is not confined by the word,
and in effect argues that if we as readers do not recognize the independent
9Mengzi zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu (Beijing: Zhonghua

shuju, 1979), Vol. 2, 9a.71c. My translation is based on D. C. Lao, trans., Mencius
(New York: Penguin Books, 1984), 142.
10
status of meaning, we suffer the same fate as the fisherman who is
unable to forget his trap. Mengzi, as a Confucian, must at the very least
pay lip service to the Classics as a source of meaning, but if the word no
longer is the final arbiter of meaning, where does the ultimate standard
of meaning lie? Mengzi's provisional answer is in the author's intention,
but in practical terms we know this is no answer at all and effectively
amounts to the reader appointing himself as the standard of interpretation.
Nevertheless, Mengzi's apparently insignificant flirtation with Daoist
philosophy of language and small gesture toward a new Confucian
hermeneutic came to assume much greater importance when it was
appropriated by Song dynasty (960-1126) literati in their attempts to
move away from a literal interpretation of the Classics.
In the Former Han dynasty (206 BC-23 AD), several factors
combined to reorient scholars toward the literal meaning of the word.
Significantly, the Mengzi is forgotten, not to be rediscovered until the
end of the Tang dynasty (618-905). The destruction of all Confucian
texts during the Qin dynasty (221-207 BC) made their reconstruction,
from "discovered" fragments and memory, the initial scholarly endeavor
for Han literati. Soon after, Dong Zhongshu (179-104 BC) and
others constructed a state ideology with Confucian texts as its foundation.
The state also introduced an education system in which scholars and
officials were schooled in these same texts. It is not unnatural given
these circumstances that Han literati focused on the written word and
depended primarily on philological analysis to establish its meaning.
The Confucian textual tradition had always enunciated the values
of the political center, especially that of the Zhou (1122-255 BC) empire.
Once stable political unification was reachieved in the Han dynasty, the
11
Confucian tradition provided the language for the state's legitimacy
through the doctrine of the mandate of heaven. Just as the Zhou vanquished
the decadent and evil Yin, Dong tells us, Han won the mandate from the
vicious Qin. It was the desire to lodge imperial legitimacy with heaven
that motivated Dong Zhongshu's cosmology of correspondence in which
all the affairs of man, including the emperor and the state, were naturally
ordered, linked, and mandated, due to their inherent correspondence
with heaven and the natural world.
As a part of correspondence theory, language too was not merely
a human construction, but was connected to the natural order: "names
reach the intention of heaven"10; and "heaven and earth are the great
m eaning of nam es."11 For Dong Zhongshu there was no gap or
discrepancy between a word and its meaning/intention, because the
relationship was determined in the natural order. "Names are bom from
what is real. If it is not real then it is not nam ed."12 By claiming that
names are bom from the natural world rather than man, the problem of a
discrepancy between intention of the speaker and the word does not
arise. This view of language as "natural" was elevated to the status of
orthodoxy in the form of Han-era language creation myths appended to
the Yijing MM [Change Classic].
During the Later Han dynasty (25-220), the debate focused on the
appearance of a number "Old Text" (guwen 'S 'jt) Classics written in old
10Dong Zhongshu, "Chunqiu xilu," in Tang Yan, Lianghan sanguo xuean

[The Record of Scholarship of the Former and Later Han Dynasties and the Three
Kingdoms] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1986), 265.
"Quoted in Zhou Guitian, Dongxue tanwei [Investigating the Profundities
of Dong Zhongshu's Learning] (Beijing: Shifan daxue chubanshe, 1989), 236.
"Ibid.
12
script, and claimed by some to be more ancient, and thus more genuine,
than the "New Text" (jinwen -^30 Classics then in circulation. The
debate was not merely technical, but also involved political and academic
loyalties.13 The victory of the Old Text school in the debate was crucial,
for it also ushered in a new scholarly approach to the Classics. Turning
away from the New Text tradition of seeking in the Classics "great
meaning and subtle words" (dayi weiyan Old Text scholars
emphasized more precise philological analysis of the characters of the
C lassics.14 Emblematic of what would later come to be called "Han
Learning" was the scholarship of Zheng Xuan (127-200).
Synthesizing the Old and New Text traditions, he wrote influential
comm entaries on a number of Classics. Zheng Xuan's scholarly
methodology was entirely of the Old Text school, however, as he mainly
confined his annotations to the etymological gloss (xungu the
definition of individual characters, or at most, short phrases. The scholarly
orientation of the Old Text school is also reflected in the compilation of
the first Chinese dictionary, the Shuowen jiezi W lS M ^ [Explanations of
Characters and Analyses of their Parts], written in 100 AD. It listed Old
Text characters and their modern equivalents, along with etymological
and phonological explanations. The Shuowen jiezi stands as a testament
to the Han Learning hermeneutic, where word and meaning/intention
13For a brief description of the Old Text-New Text debate, see the
"Introduction" to Benjamin Elman, Classicism, Politics, Kinship: The Ch'ang-Chou
School o f New Text Confucianism in Late Imperial China (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1990), xxv ff.
14He Gengyong, "Zhongguo jingxue yu yuyan wenzi xue" [Chinese
Classical Studies and Linguistics and Philology], in Lin Qingzhang, ed., Zhongguo
jingxue shi lunwen xuanji [Selected Essays on the History of Chinese Classical
Studies] (Taibei: Shi wen zhe chubanshe, 1992), 22-23.
13
are irrevocably fixed.
W ith the dissolution of the Han state, its world view in which all
things were organized into a patterned and knowable universe also
unraveled. The so-called "mysterious learning" (xuanxue of the
Wei and Jin dynasties (220-264; 265-419) began with the Daoistic
assumption that the foundation of knowledge lay behind the normally
perceivable. Accordingly, they also became the intellectual heirs of
Daoist philosophies of language. It has been persuasively argued that
the foundation of mysterious learning depended on the distinction between
word and meaning.15 In contrast to the Han scholiasts' efforts to eke
out from the Classics the sages' every intention, Wei and Jin literati
were known for their "pure conversation," the practice of spoken repartee
revolving around witticisms and anecdotes, departing from the traditional
didactic function of language, the transmission of Dao, as well as
concentration on the writings of the ancients. Some Wei Jin thinkers,
like Wei Zhi dismissed the textual tradition entirely, following the
Zhuangzi in calling the Classics the chaff and dregs of the sages.16
Wei and Jin literati continued to read texts, albeit without the
fervor of their Han predecessors. The renewed emphasis on the distinction
between word and meaning also inevitably affected the way Wei Jin
literati read texts and approached the literary tradition. Wang Bi
(226-49), for instance, recoined the maxim from the Zhuangzi urging all
to "catch the intention and forget the word."17 Guo Xiang MM (?-312)
lsTang Yongtong, Wei Jin xuanxue lungao [A Discussion of the Mysterious

Learning of the Wei and Jin Dynasties] (Beijing: Renmin chubanshe, 1957), 27.
16Tang Yan, Lianghan sanguo xuean, 36.

17Ibid„ 27.
14
Reproduced with permission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
upheld the value of the text, but, in a manner reminiscent of Mengzi,
warned against literal interpretation of the word: "One ought to forget
what is lodged [in the word] and pursue the general meaning of what
has been written."18 Mengzi's caution that one should not allow the
characters to harm the words, and not allow the words to harm the
intention was cited with approval by Liu Xie §!]$& (c. 465-c. 520) who,
in his Wenxin diaolong [The Literary Mind and the Carving of
Dragons], discussed the discrepancy between literal meaning and the
genuine import of a poem.19
With the Tang dynasty we once again see the rise of a strong
imperial state and state-sponsored compendiums of the Confucian
Classics. The Old Text Classics were collected along with the Han
commentaries, to which Tang scholars added subcommentaries in the
same mode. Although these imperially sponsored compilations were
not affected, the influence of Chan Buddhism in the Tang left an indelible
impression on Confucian literati of the Tang, Song, and Ming dynasties.
Chan influence can clearly be seen in a renewed linguistic skepticism in
Song Daoxue thinkers. It is generally accepted that Song Confucians
were primarily challenged by Buddhist metaphysics, and in response
18G uo Xiang, "Zhuangzi commentary," in Tang, Liang Han Sanguo xuean,

38. Other factors influenced Gou Xiang's approach to the text of the Zhuangzi
besides his attitude toward language. Participating in the larger agenda of Wei and
Jin literati which aimed to reconcile Daoism and Confucianism, Guo was faced with
the dilemma of interpreting a text whose invectives against Kongzi were particularly
hostile. One way Guo could recognize the value of the text despite its anti-
Confucian orientation was to ignore the substance of the text when necessary and
concentrate on the "larger meaning," which presumably was in entire accord with
Kongzi.
19Liu Xie, "Kuashi," Wenxin Diaolong [The Literary Mind and the Carving
o f Dragons] (Sibu congkan, ser. 1, Vol. 2070), 8.3a.
15
returned to the Yijing and Daoist sources to create a Confucian metaphysics
in which phenomena were not "empty," but filled with moral principle.
I believe that in addition to this, Song Confucians also relied on Daoism
in their response to Chan linguistic skepticism, not to refute it, but
essentially to appropriate it as a legitimate part of the Chinese ancient
tradition.
Song Confucians strove to free themselves from the Han-Tang
philological approach to the Classics. Song Confucians claimed that the
greater "meanings and principles" (yili) of the Classics had been missed
by those who focused on the etymological analysis of the characters.
For Cheng-Zhu school Confucians in particular, this new approach to
Classics was made possible in a sense by their concomitant skepticism
of the word's capacity to transmit intention. The real intention of the
sages, they claimed, could not be attained through mere attention to the
written characters the sages left behind. In practical terms, they
nevertheless depended on the sages' written transmissions, and this
discrepancy was the source of some tension in Cheng-Zhu learning.
There was a broad historical continuity in Chinese debates over
language. With this cursory history, my aim has been to describe dominant
language positions and the vocabulary by which these positions were
articulated, for they formed important background for Ming dynasty
language debates. The specific Ming context in which debates over
language occurred was unique, however, leading to a linguistic skepticism
on the part of certain Ming literati much more vehement than that of
their Song predecessors. Indeed, the extremity of the positions on both
sides and the protracted length of the debate make the Ming something
of a high point in the history of Chinese language controversy.
16
C hapter 1
Politics, Language, and M orality in the E arly M ing
Linguistic Skepticism in Song Daoxue
Any discussion of Ming literati attitudes toward written language

must begin with the recognition that their beliefs concerning language
were largely inherited. My concern here, however, is not the evolution
of language beliefs or the contributions of Ming literati to the problem
of language. Rather, I want to map the discursive alternatives that were
available to Ming literati and present the general discursive framework
in which literati discussed the problem of language and how it operated.
Concerning the alternatives available to Ming literati, Song Daoxue, the
state orthodoxy and civil service examination curriculum during the
Ming, undoubtedly played an influential role in their attitudes toward
language as well as moral philosophy. W e must keep in mind though,
that Song Daoxue moral philosophy was not a static package of beliefs,
but an unstable construction whose internal tensions would be exposed
in the Ming. As Ming literati adopted, and rejected, Song moral and
scholarly discourse, tensions concerning the nature and value of language
were also transmitted and played out.
The famous dictum coined by the Song Daoxue scholar Zhou
Dunyi JUitE® (1017-73) nicely illustrates some of the fundamental tensions
in Song and Ming language beliefs. "The function of literature is to
convey the Dao" (wen yi zai dao ye is an expression of faith
in the written word to transmit the teachings of the ancient sages. As an
17
encapsulation of the Confucian enterprise it confirms the literatus as
fundamentally a reader and conforms to the historical construction of
Kongzi as bibliographer, one who "transmits but does not create," for
the wisdom of the past has already been committed to books and the
task remaining is merely to clarify that codified wisdom. This vision of
the Confucian enterprise and its concomitant faith in the written word
formed the foundation of Han Old Text scholarship. Their philological
exegeses of the Classics and fidelity to the text betrayed their belief that
meaning did not exist apart from the word and could only be discovered
through analysis of it.
We should also interpret wen yi zai dao as an exhortation to write
only literature which conveys the Dao. This reading of the dictum
envisions the literatus as writer, as a creator and active transmitter of the
Dao, an interpretation conforming more closely to the context in which
the statement appears. This version of the literary enterprise again finds
its archetype in Kongzi, not the bibliographer who transmitted and did
not write, but the enunciator of the Dao who authored the Classics. This
vision of the literatus as writer informed the method of testing in the
civil service examinations whereby the examinee adopted the persona of
the sage and wrote essays imitative of the speech of the ancients. Notice
in this case that the function of literature is no less than to transmit the
intent of the sages. In this context, however, Zhou Dunyi's statement
should not be mistaken as a celebration of the power of the written word
or as a paean to literature. Exhorting literati to write literature conveying
the Dao was his response to a perceived moral poverty amidst a wealth
of literature. We only have to recall Han Yu's (786-824) "orthodox
transmission of the Dao" (daotong jif t) , a theory to which Song Daoxue
18
scholars subscribed and which became the foundation of their efforts to
reconstruct a Confucian orthodoxy. From the perspective of Zhou Dunyi
and the Daoxue theory of daotong, over a thousand years had elapsed
since the Dao had been successfully transmitted, by literature or any
other means.
During this long "Dark Age" eminent men of letters had continued
to write, of course, the Tang dynasty especially producing some of the
greatest poetry aiid prose masters in Chinese history. In his dictum,
therefore, Zhou Dunyi was only confirming the potential power of the
word to convey the moral principles enunciated by the ancients to readers
centuries later, for he was highly conscious that history had proven that
the written word was more likely in fact to conceal the Dao than to
convey it. If we view the entire quotation in which Zhou's dictum is
found, we see that he conceived of literature as an art which easily
degenerated into an object of aesthetic pleasure concerned only with
"decoration" and thereby losing its capability to "convey" the Dao:
The function of literature is to convey the Dao. The

decorations on the wheels and axles have no use.
Concentrating solely on the decoration, is it not as bad as
having an empty cart? Writing is art (yi ig); morality is
substantial (shi ®). Concentrate on the substance and write
it with art. If it is good then it will be loved, if it is loved
then it will be transmitted.1
The pivotal defect of the great Tang men of letters was their inappropriate
focus of concentration. They pursued the art of the written word,
‘Zhou Dunyi, "Wend," in Zhang Yifeng, Lian luo guan min shu [The
Writings o f Zhou Dunyi, the Cheng Brothers, Zhang Zai, and Zhu Xi] ( Congshu
jickeng, Vol. 617), 1.23-24.
19
"concentrating on the decoration" as it were and paid too little attention
to the moral principles that it was meant to carry. It is ironic that Han
Yu fell victim to his own theory and was excluded by Daoxue scholars
from the line of orthodox transmission of the Dao. This is especially so
when we consider that Han Yu himself was credited with leading the
Confucian resurgence in the late Tang. Responding to the twin challenges
o f literary degeneration and the success of Buddhism, Han Yu even
coined the phrase "The function of literature is to illuminate the Dao"
(wen yi ming dao clearly inspiring Zhou's own dictum. Han
Yu determined that the Confucian Dao must be regained by returning to
the language of the ancients, thus inaugurating the so-called Ancient
Prose (guwen movement. Han Yu and Ancient Prose practitioners
in the Song like Ouyang Xiu (1007-72) were nevertheless criticized
by Song Daoxue scholars for putting too much emphasis on literature
and not enough on the Dao. Cheng Yi (1033-1108) and Cheng
Hao H H (1032-85), both disciples of Zhou Dunyi, invoked Kongzi's
declaration "Those who are moral must speak," transforming it into a
rule governing learning priorities: "The root of learning is morality.
There is morality (de H ) and then there is speech (yan gf). Tuizhi (Han
Yu) reversed [the order of] learning."2 Their fear that priorities were
so easily reversed, even in the case of men who consciously pursued the
Dao through literature, and that concentration upon the written word
was a weakness of the age prompted the Chengs to declare, "Literature
harms the Way" (wen yi hai dao X & irit). Juxtaposed with Zhou's
2Henan Ercheng yishu [Bequeathed Works of the Two Chengs], in Ercheng

ji [Collected Works of the Two Chengs], Vol. 1 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1981),
18.232.
20
dictum, the two statements may appear to be opposed, but in reality the
Cheng brothers were merely elaborating the viewpoint of their teacher.
Zhu Xi (1130-1200), the great synthesizer of Song Daoxue, elaborated
on the proper subordinate relationship of literature using the analogy of
the roots and branches of a tree: "The Dao is the root of literature;
literature is the leaves and branches of the Dao."3 Zhu Xi reiterated
this point when he said, "If literature does not have moral principle (li
S ) , how can it be considered literature?"4
Zhu Xi and other Daoxue scholars were dubious about the written
word because of the moral danger literary accomplishment posed when
considered as an end in itself. Specifically, they were critical of
contemporaries like Ouyang Xiu who felt that once the proper language
was used—ancient prose-then the Dao could be illumined, and Su Shi
who gave literature and Dao equal status.5 Fundam entally, the
misgivings of Daoxue scholars were grounded on the belief that the
word was distinct from the Dao. In terms of writing, this discrepancy
accounted for literature that was entirely divorced from the Dao and did
not contain or transmit moral principles. On a more subtle level, the
distinction allowed for words which on the surface appeared moral enough,
yet were not in fact the expression of a moral fundament. This latter
kind of discrepancy was a facet of the perennial Confucian conundrum
3Quoted in Li Xiuxiong, A Comparative Study o f Zhu Xi's and Li Tuixi's

Poetry (Beijing: Beijing University Press, 1991), 38.
Ibid.
sZhu Xi in fact developed his root and branch analogy largely as a critique
of Su Shi's views on literature and Dao. For Su Shi's views and Zhu Xi's rebuttal,
see Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo wenxue piping shi. (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1979),
192ff.
21
of form versus content. To early Confucianism, for instance, it became
evident that an individual could perform a ritual while in fact lacking
any corresponding inner state of reverence. Kongzi therefore cautioned
that "In the ceremonies of mourning, it is better that there be deep
sorrow than a minute attention to observances."6 In the later imperial
periods, the form-content discrepancy became a focus of attention in the
civil service examinations when it became apparent that an examinee
could write like a moral paragon without necessarily being one.
This ambivalence toward the written word led to even more complex
problems when it came to the issue of reading. Song Daoxue scholars
valued reading more than writing (in contrast to literati like Su Shi),
considering reading more or less an integral part of mental and moral
cultivation. Since the Four Books and the Five Classics were by Zhu
Xi's definition "literature," that is, an expression of the Dao, then it
would seem that reading was a less problematic enterprise than writing.
This was not the case, however. After all, the Classics had not disappeared
during the dark interregnum after Mengzi when the Dao disappeared
from the world. Literature rooted in the Dao had continued to be
transmitted and, once more, read in a most conscientious manner, yet
the Dao nevertheless had not been transmitted. Song Daoxue scholars
had to conclude that there was some defect in the manner literati had
been reading the Classics. Even more troublesome, however, it seemed
as if the nature of the word itself was in part responsible for blocking
the very Dao it was ostensibly conveying.
6Lunyu zhushu , Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu, Vol. 2 (Beijing: Zhonghua
shuju, 1979), 3.4. Legge, trans., The Four Books(Ynibei: Huangjia tushu youxian
gongsi, 1983), 156.
22
This acknowledged "failure" of the written word lay in its inability
to fully transmit intent, the so-called "distinction between words and
intent" (yenyi zhi bian m which was a central issue in literati
debates during the Wei and Jin dynasties. This suspicion in the capability
of the word replaced the faith in the natural union of word and
intent/meaning as exhibited in the classical exegesis of scholiasts of the
defunct Han dynasty and formed the basis of the Wei Jin retreat from a
philological approach to the Classics. It is significant that Song Daoxue
scholars shared both the Wei Jin mistrust of the capability of the word
as well as their rejection of Han exegetical methods. Strikingly similar
as well is the rise of so-called Neo-Daoism in the Wei and Jin, along
with a resurgence of the Daoist mistrust of words, and an unusually
heavy reliance on Daoism in Song Daoxue. The alleged Daoist origins
of Zhou Dunyi's Taijitu shuo ;fct§®lg!& [Explanations of the Diagram of
the Supreme Ultimate] were of course denied by iiis defenders, and Zhu
Xi wrote his surreptitious commentary on the Daoist classic, the Cantongqi
#l5]ig under a pseudonym, yet at other times Daoist rhetoric was openly
used by Daoxue scholars. In an overt reference to Zhuangzi's "The trap
is there for the fish. Catch the fish, and forget the trap.... The word is
there for the meaning. Catch the meaning and forget the word,"7 both
Zhu Xi and the Cheng brothers cautioned that one had to catch the
moral principles and forget the word. For them, forgetting the word
meant reading the text in a way that did not engage in etymological
analysis or literal interpretation, and instead was directed at the much
more amorphous "meanings and principles" (yili HSQ. The degree to
7Zhuangzi, "waiwu," Zhuangzi yinde (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1988),

75/26/48.
23
which the Cheng brothers saw etymology as a danger was reflected in
their contention that "being bound up in etymology" was one of the
three great defects of scholars of their day, along with being mired in
literature and confused by heterodoxy (Buddhism).8
Daoxue scholars' new way of reading, like many aspects of Song
Daoxue, was justified by reference to Mengzi, according to Han Yu in
Ms famous "Origin of the Dao" (yuandao HCH) and the theory of daotong,
the last inheritor of orthodox Confucian teaching before the "Dark Age."
Mengzi's phrase "in explaining an ode, one should not allow the characters
to obscure the words, and not the words to obscure the intention” was
picked up by Song Confucians and imputed with much importance because
it justified their attempt to discard layers of exegesis of Han and Tang
scholiasts and return to the original "meanings" of the Classics, on the
one hand, and to make reading an activity of mental and moral cultivation,
on the other. This is nicely exhibited in Zhang Zai’s $1® (1020-77)
elaboration of Mengzi’s hermeneutics:
Of those in ancient times who were able to know poetry,

only Mengzi did so by taking the meaning and returning to
the intention [of the author]. The intention of a poem is the
epitome of ease. There is no need to pursue it as something
difficult. If today one pursues it as something difficult,
then the root of the mind will be lost. In that case how can
one see the poem?9
From Zhang's discussion here we can understand why the Dao disappeared
even though the Classics were being read. Han and Tang readers
sHenan Chengshiyishu, 18.187.
9Zhang Zai, "Shishu," Zhang Zai ji [The Collected Works of Zhang Zai]
(Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1978), 256.
24
mistakenly pursued meaning "as something difficult," and sought to
capture it by carefully analyzing words. In doing so they missed the
intention behind the words, and worse, lost the quality of mind necessary
for moral development.
As an example of how to pursue properly the meaning of a poem
and not fall into the trap of linguistic analysis, consider this description
of the way Cheng Hao instructed his students in poetry:
Mister Mingdao [Cheng Hao] excelled at discoursing on

poetry. He never explicated lines or paragraphs, but only
chanted them aloud, sampling their flavor in a carefree
manner, and in doing so allowed others to gain insight.10
The emphasis here is on the reader's unencumbered movement through

the text, and the conscious avoidance of becoming bogged down in the
precise meaning o f a phrase or definition of a character. This conscious
non-recognition of the written word as the fundamental unit from which
"meaning" is constructed was central to the way Daoxue Confucians
read texts. This is most apparent in the work of Zhu Xi who placed so
much emphasis on teaching his students the proper way to read a text
that the Zhuzi yulei [Recorded Conversations of Master Zhu
Topically Arranged] has two chapters devoted exclusively to the subject.
For Zhu Xi, the effort of reading, the Classics or any other text,
was directed toward grasping moral principle, and he even coined the
phrase "read books and exhaust moral principle."11 The relationship
l0Henan Chengshi waishu [Alternate Works of the Cheng Brothers]. Ercheng

ji [Collected Works of the Two Chengs], Vol. 2. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1981,
12.425.
uLi Jingde, ed., Zhuzi yulei [The Recorded Conversations of Master Zhu Xi,
25
between moral principle and the text, according to Zhu Xi, was that of
the fish to the fishtrap:
Borrow the Classics in order to comprehend moral principle

only. Once moral principle is apprehended, then there is
no longer reliance on the Classics.12
Elsewhere he directly quotes Zhuangzi!s Bian the Wheelwright, saying

that once "one has apprehended it (moral principle) for oneself in the
mind, then words are looked upon as dregs." Since moral principle was
som ething different than the text itself and ultim ately existing
independently of it, reading would appear to be an act of separation
whereby moral principle was identified and then extracted. Once the
text had been mined of its principles it could then be discarded. Zhu Xi,
therefore, at once professes a deep faith in the text as a source of moral
principles, while at the same time taking great pains to distinguish the
two. This is because Zhu Xi could never deny that the Classics were a
source of moral principle, though he denied that exclusive attention to
the written character could yield it.
Similar to his pronouncements concerning the relationship between
the Dao and literature, he instructed that "the method of reading has a
great root... [and] secondary to that is explicating the meaning of the
text."13 As Zhu Xi relegated literal meaning to a position of secondary
importance, we can see that the written character and its interpretation
were not of primary concern. Indeed, when Zhu Xi talked about reading
Topically Arranged] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1988), Vol. 1,176.
12Ibid., 192.
13Ibid., 182.
26
closely or paying careful attention to the text, his focus of attention was
rarely the character. Zhu was more apt to speak of the sentence or the
paragraph as a fundamental literary unit:
Pay attention to each sentence and the moral principles in

each sentence will become clear. Pay attention to each
paragraph and the moral principles in each paragraph will
become clear.14
The lack of focus on the individual character was also reflected in Zhu
Xi's description of what a text appears like to the novice reader:
When a student first reads a text, all he sees is an amorphous

mass. After a long time he sees two or three parts, and
finally ten or more parts. He will then make progress, like
Cook Ding who ”[after three years] never saw the ox as a
whole."15
If it was normal for Zhu Xi's students initially to see the text as an
undifferentiated whole, then their concentration clearly could not have
been on the formal units of linguistic and literary organization. Neither
do the "parts" they later come to see refer to these formal units, otherwise
the student would have had no trouble seeing them immediately in the
first place. It is the formal aspect of writing that is purposely not being
‘“Translated in Daniel K. Gardner, "Modes of Thinking and Modes of

Discourse in the Song: Some Thoughts on the Yu-lu ("Recorded Conversations")
Texts," Journal o f Asian Studies 3 (August, 1991), p. 591. This is not to suggest
that Zhu Xi never urges reading the character. See for example Zhuzi yulei, Vol. 1,
162.
iSZhuzi yulei, Vol. 1, 163. The quote is from the Zhuangzi, "Yangsheng
zhu," Zhuangzi yinde (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1988), 7/3/5. Translated in A.C.
Graham, trans, Chuang Tzu: The Inner Chapters (London: George Allen & Unwin,
1981), 63.
27
noticed, for this is exactly what is suspect in literature. As concentration
on literary form increases, the farther the reader is carried away from the
Dao. Primary among these formal obstructions is the written character
itself. Clearly it is not the place to begin reading. The few times that
the written character is the focus of Zhu Xi's instructions, he cautions
that "Written characters cannot be explained too inflexibly,"16 and
"Whenever reading the words of the sages, don't force them too closely."17
These comments are meant to caution the students against reading written
characters for their literal meaning. Like Cheng Yi, Zhu Xi meant his
students to read in a "carefree manner," because reading too closely
threatened to mire the reader in the formal trap of etym ology.
Apprehending moral principles in a text is never forced or strained. If
the student merely "reads a lot he will naturally understand."18 And
again, "if he reads thoroughly and thinks keenly, his mind and moral
principles will be naturally unified."19 In complete contrast to the archaic
characters and obtuse phrases of the Classics, moral principles were
easily found and understood:
The words of the sages are all heavenly principle and self-
existent, originally straightforward and clear right there. It
is just that people read them without an empty mind and
only pay attention to examining their exterior.20
l6Zhuzi yulei, Vol. 1,185.

17Ibid.
18Ibid., 170.
,9Ibid.
20Ibid., 179.
28
Thus if one reads with the wrong frame of m ind-the analyzing mind of
the philologist-only verbal exteriors are apparent and the moral principles
remain hidden "inside" the text. When the text is approached with the
right frame of mind, in contrast, moral principles spontaneously "emerge"
from the text and make themselves apparent to the reader. Thus: "Apply
a broad mind, and the moral principle of the Dao will emerge by itself."21
The broad mind here refers to a general non-discrimination which allows
a comprehensive understanding. Elsewhere Zhu Xi says that "after one
attains comprehensive understanding, meaning and moral principle will
emerge by themselves."22 Comprehensive understanding or an empty
mind is not gained from words and their meanings; it is rather a prerequisite
for proper reading: "Have an empty mind and then you will be able to
attain the meaning of the sages and worthies"23; "When reading one
must have an empty mind."24 So then the question, "How do I read a
text so as to identify and attain moral principle?" became for Zhu Xi, at
least initially, "How do I cultivate an empty mind?"
Zhu Xi approvingly related a tale to his students about a certain
Confucian scholar named Chen Lie. Inspired by Mengzi's injunction to
"seek the lost mind," Chen shut himself in his room and meditated for
over one hundred days without once opening a book. Afterwards,
whenever he read something, he could digest it all in a single glance.25
W hile perhaps not holding up this specific method as a model for
“ Ibid., 164.
22Ibid. 173.
“ Ibid., 179.
“ Ibid.
“ Ibid., 177.
29
emulation, Zhu approved of Chen's actions because he correctly
understood the priorities of learning. Self-cultivation must precede
reading:
...first cultivate the root, and already having thoroughly

mulled over meanings and moral principle, wait for their
full penetration. Afterwards read books, and then understand
for yourself.26
The act of reading is subordinated to the process of moral cultivation

just as the written word is subordinated to moral principle. Although
there is the claim in Zhu Xi's philosophy that moral principle is closely
related with the Classics and reading them does contribute to moral
cultivation, we rather get the opposite impression when he speaks
specifically to the practical task of reading. If one has to wait for the
full penetration of moral principle before one begins to read, then the
activity of reading appears almost superfluous, especially when we recall
the analogy of the fishtrap in which one is reminded to discard words
once moral principle is attained. In practical terms, reading appears at
best to be a final rite of passage, through which one emerges victoriously
if the understanding of moral principle is such that one can pass through
the menacing words unscathed. Indeed, the successful reader, by virtue
of the operation of his empty mind, is able to neutralize the potentially
disruptive power of the word by ultimately making the word vanish:
Only by reading the Six Classics as if there never were any

Six Classics, only by seeking the moral principles of the
Dao in oneself, will those moral principles then be easily
“ Ibid., 178.
30
comprehended.27
Although I suggest that, according to Zhu Xi's own pronouncements on

the subject of reading, the Classics appear more or less superfluous, it
remains the case that Zhu Xi continued to place great stress on the
Classics and expended much effort to elucidate them. His exhortations
to approach the Classics directly were aimed at bypassing the literal
meanings of the words which Han and Tang commentators strove to
decipher. It remained ironic, however, that the moral principles in the
Classics continued to elude readers, forcing Zhu Xi to substitute his own
commentary for those of his Confucian predecessors. Zhu Xi's belief in
the necessity of his commentary mediating between the reader and the
text contradicted his assertion that moral principles were easily apparent.
Zhu Xi's work as a teacher giving personal instruction to his
students also tended to cast doubt on the efficacy of the words of the
Classics even as he strove to elucidate them. Given the ambiguities
concerning the value of the words in the Classics, it is significant that
Zhu Xi did not use the classical language of the Confucian canon when
instructing his students, but the spoken vernacular of his day. It was
these vernacular instructions that were recorded by his disciples and
published as the Zhuzi yulei [The Recorded Conversations of
Master Zhu Xi, Arranged Topically]. David Gardner has discussed the
use of the vernacular in the yulu [recorded conversations] of Song
Confucians, pointing out that it represented a lessening of confidence in
the written word and a modified form of Chan Buddhist mind-to-mind
27Ibid.,188.
31
transmission.28 Charles Hartman has suggested that the Song penchant
for the teacher-student transmission beginning with Han Yu privileged
oral instruction.29 Is it possible that Song Daoxue scholars viewed oral
speech and/or the vernacular as an antidote to the problem of transmitting
intention? The question of course is complicated by the fact that oral
speech does not necessarily have to be in the vernacular, and the vernacular
can be spoken as well as written. In any case, Charles Hartman provides
a quote from one of the Cheng brothers which comes as close as I have
seen to their answering the question:
There is indeed no conflict between transmitting the way

through writing and through oral transmission. When we
speak face-to-face we use actions to illustrate our meaning
and our thoughts come together. But when writings are
transmitted over time, although there are many words, they
are not really complete.30
W hile they continue to question the capability of writing to transmit

intention here, the Cheng brothers fall short of claiming that speech
transmits intention better than writing. Notice here that the vernacular
versus classical languages is not an issue, nor perhaps even speaking
versus writing. Given the first sentence, it seems that Cheng's point is
that they are more or less equivalent. Rather than language, it seems it
is the close physical contact which increases the efficacy of transmission.
“ Gardner, “Modes of Thinking and Modes of Discourse, 589; 592.
29See Charles Hartman's discussion of Han Yu's "Discourse on Teachers,"

in his Han Yu and the Tang Search for Unity (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1986), 164-65. Note espcially the quotation by Han Yu on pages 161-62 which
includes the line: "For educating the present age, use the spoken word; for transmitting
to later ages, write books."
30Ibid., 165.
32
There was, however, one other thing that speech had and which writing
lacked: sound. We recall Cheng Yi's chanting aloud in this regard,
suggestive that the import of a poem comes from the way it sounds
rather than what the words literally mean.
Although speech and the vernacular were to some extent privileged
by Zhu Xi, as well, there is no indication that he saw them as an
antidote to the problem of word and intention. The basic reason why
the Cheng brothers and Zhu Xi did not ultimately privilege speech, I
believe, is that they did not perceive the classical and the vernacular
languages, writing and speaking, in the dichotomized terms to which we
may be inclined-this in fact seems to be the very point in the Cheng's
statement above. Zhu Xi knew full well, for instance, that the Lunyu of
Kongzi, the crown jewel of the Confucian canon, was nothing but the
recorded oral conversations of the Master.
The nature of the word, both spoken word and written character,
therefore remained unresolved, and in the end functioned for Zhu Xi
much as did the Daoxue concept of qi M, (phenomenal essence). The
character could be entirely clear, fully revealing moral principle, or it
could be turbid and opaque, completely hiding moral principle from the
hapless reader, the degree of transparency depending on the reader's
level of mental cultivation. Like qi, and Zhu Xi's moral philosophy in
general, the nature of the word remained dual, the conduit to goodness
and simultaneously the source of evil.
Beginning in the Yuan dynasty and following in the Ming, Zhu
Xi was enshrined as the spokesman for the state-sponsored Confucian
orthodoxy, and his interpretations of the Classics became the core of the
civil service examination curriculum. It remains a great irony that the
33
philosophy of a man skeptical of the efficacy of language to transmit
moral principles should become the standard for a system whose
legitimacy depended on the belief that the morality of an individual was
reflected in the words he wrote, that all the words in examination essays
were transparent. Not surprisingly, Zhu Xi's linguistic skepticism and
ambiguous attitudes toward the word went entirely unnoticed on the part
of many Ming Confucians, especially those who had a vested interest in
the state and its institutions. Mistrust of the written word, however, did
not disappear in the Ming dynasty, and in fact ultimately surpassed the
skepticism revealed in Song Daoxue. Whether or not the writings of
Zhu Xi and other Song Daoxue scholars were directly responsible for
inciting suspicion of the word in the Ming is difficult to say. Clearly,
given their status as spokesmen for Confucian orthodoxy, the various
Song Daoxue yulu (recorded conversations) were widely read and
thus their beliefs concerning language no doubt made some impact on
Ming readers. Perhaps it is more apt to say that the substantial differences
of opinion among Ming Confucians itself is reflective of the ambiguity
of the status of language in Song Daoxue. In any case, a suspicion of
the word, of its capability to convey intention and transmit moral
principles, was a fairly integral part of Confucian discourse by the Ming
and thus literati had the ability to incorporate a suspicion of the word if
it suited their purposes. Ultimately as well, what is important as far as
our purposes are concerned is not where exactly Ming suspicion of
language came from, but rather why some Ming literati came to express
grave doubts about the value of words while others extolled it.
34
Praise as Slander: the Language P aranoia of Z hu Yuanzhang
It has been pointed out that the Ming dynastic founder, Zhu
Yuanzhang [r. 1368-1398] embodied many of the qualities
archetypal of Ming culture as a whole. For example, Yoshikawa Kojiro
has argued that Zhu's humble origins and his disdain for cultural adornment
was partly responsible for the rise of the urban commoner class to
positions of cultural elites. Yoshikawa's contention that Zhu consciously
promoted "townsmen" by instituting an examination system that measured
expertise in the Classics rather than literary skill is not entirely
convincing.31 Nevertheless, Zhu Yuanzhang's commoner origins appear
to have foreshadowed some of the major trends in Ming literati culture,
such as a great interest in popular drama and vernacular fiction and an
unprecedented role for the "common man" in Ming philosophy and
poetry criticism. Yoshikawa specifically mentions a general pattern of
Ming poetry which favored simplicity.32
A nother tendency in Ming literati culture which finds Zhu
Yuanzhang as a precursor is a particularly strong distrust of the written
word. In this respect, Zhu stands out in Chinese history for breaking the
fam iliar pattern of the imperial state solidifying its authority through
promoting the status of the written word (and simultaneously its control
31Although the Ming examinations did not include poetry, it is nevertheless

difficult to see it as any less a "literary" exercise for which the literati class would
have been the beneficiary. As to Zhu Yuanzhang's desire to use the exam system to
promote commoners, it is doubtful he had such expectations. The exam system was
in fact almost identical to the Yuan dynasty exams, and seems to have been one of
the requisites of the imperial state that Zhu grudgingly accepted.
32Yoshikawa, Kojiro, Five Hundred Years o f Chinese Poetry 1150-1650,

John Timothy Wixted, trans. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989), 106.
35
over it). Zhu Yuanzhang's mistrust of the written word is also connected
to his humble origins. Bora into a peasant family, Zhu as a boy was
forced by poverty and famine to become a mendicant beggar, and later,
a Buddhist monk. He likely learned some reading and writing skills as a
monk, for when he joined the anti-Yuan forces in 1352, this was a factor
in his quick rise through the ranks.33 After forming his own government,
Zhu received classical training from his advisors and appears to have
been an extremely capable pupil. Nevertheless, after he became emperor,
Zhu continued to display a keen inferiority complex when it came to
literary matters, which manifested itself in not only a disdain for literature
but a marked awareness of its "dangers," especially in regard to his own
authority.
Zhu's slim literary education certainly contributed to his preference
for a simple, clear writing style, which he also associated with virtue.
W hen the ancients wrote, Zhu announced: "They illumined virtue,
comprehended worldly affairs, used the speech of the dian (canons)
and mo s i (counsels) [from the Shujing], and were entirely clear and
easy to understand." In contrast:
Although the writings of literary scholars of recent

generations are difficult and abstruse, their intentions are
actually shallow and mundane.... From now on the literature
of Hanlin [officials] will only partake of comprehending
the principles of Dao, illuminating worldly affairs, and will
not engage in frivolous composition.34
33L. Carrington Goodrich and Chaoying Fang, eds., Dictionary o f Ming

Biography (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), Vol. 1,383.
^Gu Yingtai, "Hongwu ernian, sanyue," Mingshi jish i benmo [Roots and
Branches of Recorded Events in the Ming History] (Congshu jicheng, vol. 3918-27),
14.741.
36
Zhu Yuanzhang rediscovered the classic problems of Chinese literature:
the discrepancy between words and intentions. His apprehensions closely
follow those of Zhu Xi, though they are also rooted in his psychology
and personal background and thus are colored by his particular sensitivities
and his understanding of the importance of language for the power and
authority of the throne. Here, for example, Zhu Yuanzhang does not
allow skepticism of language to impinge upon the canons of the state
orthodoxy, maintaining that the words of the Classics are always clear.
Rather, it is only the language of his own ministers that hide intentions,
and display frivolity instead of moral principles.
From Zhu Yuanzhang's point of view, civil service examinations
suffered from the same defects. Starting in 1373, he suspended the
provincial and metropolitan examinations for ten years, complaining
that the examinations were "literature without substance." Instead of
using a literary examination, Zhu Yuanzhang ordered that men be
recruited for officialdom based on their virtuous behavior and only
secondarily on their command of literary arts.35 In the same year, Zhu
Yuanzhang also announced reforms in the way government documents
were to be written. He declared to his ministers:
The phrases in the canons, counsels, instructions, and

announcements of Tang Hr, Yu jg, and the three dynasties
[in the Shujing] are all substantial and unadorned, and truly
a model for thousands of generations. The Han and Wei
dynasties were near [in time] to the ancients. From the Jin
and Song dynasties onward literary style daily declined,
35Li Jieren, Ming jian [Mirror o f the Ming Dynasty] (Beijing: Zhongguo
shudian, 1985), 1.23.
37
the parallel couplets became flowery and decadent and the
methods of the ancients were lost. During the Tang and
Song dynasties, famous Confucians emerged, but although
they wanted to change the situation they were ultimately
unsuccessful. In the present day, the utterances from the
throne and the writings submitted thereto (zhi M, gao gg,
zhang biao M) have followed old habits. I have often
detested their elaborate style and departure from ancient
style. Moreover, inflated literature obscures facts and
substance.36
Zhu Yuanzhang here is demanding that in their written communications

to the throne his ministers use the simple and substantial style of the
ancients instead of the elaborate and decadent styles of later ages. His
belief that the problem of contemporary writing can be solved by returning
to the language of the ancients, appears indebted to the theories of the
Ancient Prose movement of the Song. Therefore his complaint that
focus on literary embellishment obscures what is moral and substantial
is the same observation made by Zhu Xi and the Cheng brothers. His
apparently unrestrained faith in ancient literary forms runs counter to
Song Daoxue linguistic skepticism. In this case Zhu Yuanzhang presages
the faith in the language and literature of the ancients which would later
inform the Archaist (Jugu tg-£) movement in Ming poetics.
In his own pronouncements, Zhu Yuanzhang also endeavored to
use clear and simple language. Instead of using the language of the
ancients normal in edicts, however, Zhu Yuanzhang's pronouncements
were often in modem vernacular style, which, according to contemporary
x Ming siiilu [The Veritable Records of the Ming Dynasty] (Taibei: Zhongyang
yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiu suo), Vol. 4, 1512-13. Also found in, Gu Jiegang,
"Mingdai wenzi yuhuo kaolue." Dongfang zazhi 32(july, 1935), 21-34. Translated
by L. Carrington Goodrich as "A Study of Literary Persecution during the Ming,"
Harvard Journal o f Asiatic Studies, 3 (1938), 258.
38
sources, even common folk could read.37 Thus Zhu Yuanzhang was
also interested in simple language so as to communicate with his less
educated subjects. In 1391,193,400 commoners were honored for their
ability to recite Zhu's pronouncements.38 It is quite striking then that
both the contemporary vernacular and the language of high antiquity
share the same characteristics of being clear, simple, and able to convey
substantial meaning.
There is also a more compelling reason why Zhu Yuanzhang
mistrusted the writing styles favored by the lettered men of his day. He
feared that highly literate men were using their command of literature to
hide slanderous barbs within what appeared to be normal and respectful
documents. Zhu Yuanzhang felt himself especially vulnerable to these
attacks since he lacked the command over the written language that his
would-be critics possessed. In 1384 Zhu Yuanzhang allowed the
examinations to recommence, but not without the following misgivings:
In the year Hongwu jiazi [1384] examinations were [once

again] initiated for the selection of scholar-officials and to
encourage literature. The meritorious officials [vis. those
who had helped in the winning of the empire] took umbrage
over this step. The emperor said by way of explanation:
"When the world is in disorder force is required. When the
world is governed it is appropriate to use literature. This
avoids being one-sided." The meritorious officials replied:
"This is certainly the case, but this generation is expert at
slander, and in such a way that initially one doesn't even
realize it. For example, Zhang Jiusi 29(1321-67) treated
37Frederick W. Mote and Denis Twitchett, eds., The Cambridge History o f

China Vol. 7; The Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), Part 1 ( Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1988), 155-6.
38The Cambridge History of China, 165.
39
literary Confucians generously. When he asked them for a
name, They replied: 'Shicheng' ± M [scholar's sincerity]."
The emperor said: "The name is a very good one." [The
ministers] answered, "Mengzi has the sentence: 'I am truly
a petty man ±t$/TA-t!l.'39 But how could he know?" Due
to this, the emperor scrutinized all biao and jian tg40 from
the entire empire, and this started the series of calamities.41
This anecdote not only gives us some insight into Zhu Yuanzhang's
mind, but also the workings of his bureaucracy. Clearly there was a
disagreement between civilian and military officials over whether the
examinations should be reinstituted. It is said that Zhu Yuanzhang
decided to reinstitute the examinations and "encourage literature" in
order to disperse black clouds in the heavens 42 Apparently officials in
the Ministry of Rites were using the threat of omens to encourage Zhu
Yuanzhang to resume the examinations. Zhu Yuanzhang's less literate
generals likely felt that a resumption of the examinations threatened
their own power, especially if they were able to manipulate the system
of recommendation used in its absence in order to promote relatives and
allies. Zhu Yuanzhang was susceptible to their arguments because they
played on his concerns about the deceptiveness of language and the
39Mengzi zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zfwshu Vol. 2 (Beijing: Zhonghua
shuju, 1979), 4b.35b.
'“A biao is a message of congratulations to an emperor. A jian is a message

o f congratulations to the heir apparent.
41Huang Pu, Xianzhong gujin lu [Events of Past and Present Recorded at
Leisure] ( Congshu jicheng, vol. 2895), 6. A faulty and incomplete translation may
be found in Carrington Goodrich, trans.,"A Study of Literary Persecution during the
Ming," 262-3.
42Gu Jiegang, "Mingdai wenzi yuhuo kaolue," Carrington Goodrich,

trans.,"A Study of Literary Persecution during the Ming," 263.
40
sincerity of its users. The fact that the comments of his generals caused
Zhu Yuanzhang to inspect personally all biao jian prompts us to reconsider
the reform of government correspondence he ordered in 1373. It is
likely that Zhu Yuanzhang "detested their elaborate style" not only
because it "obscured facts and substance," but also hid the true agenda
of the writers from the eyes of their undereducated sovereign.
As for "the series of calamities" that ensued, Zhu Yuanzhang
evidently personally scrutinized official correspondence, exposing many

a hapless "slanderer." The above dialogue between Zhu Yuanzhang
and his ministers was prefaced by an abbreviated story of Jiang Jinggao,
who, we are told, was beheaded in the marketplace for his biao jian. A
much more detailed account of Zhu Yuanzhang's persecution of biao
authors is provided to us by Gu Jiegang. He relates the fates of more
than a score of officials who lost their heads for writing "slanderous"
biao to the emperor. In each case the punishments were meted out
because the officials used characters ordinarily reverent and quite
commonplace to a b ia o , but which were read by the em peror as
homophones for slanderous counterparts. In such a manner, slanderous
intent was allegedly hidden behind respectful words. To cite one example:
The director of studies of Hangzhou, Xu Yikui f t — (1318-

ca.1400) drafted a congratulatory memorial containing the
words: "Beneath the resplendent sky a sage has been born
to serve as a pattern [sic] * A £ !S A ’
W hen the emperor saw this, he was incensed and said,
"Sheng £ stands for seng l i ; he is trying to make me out a
monk; guang % means [the] shaven [pate of a monk]; the
sound of the word ze IiJ approaches that of zei M thief. So
he beheaded Xu.43
41
Until officials learned which characters were taboo, many lost their
lives. Oddly enough, Zhu Yuanzhang's view of the way written language
operated was indebted to the views of Zhu Xi. Although obviously
tinged with paranoia, he incorporated a method of reading which looked
beyond literal meaning of characters in order to discover the true intentions
of the authors.
There is also an important geographic element in Zhu Yuanzhang's
mistrust of writing. In what came to be a stereotypical distinction,
Ouyang Xiu in the Song dynasty observed that in the South there was a
"cult of literary style" while Northern Confucians "emphasized substance."
This distinction was based on the fact that the South, especially the
Jiangnan region along the lower Changjiang delta enjoyed greater
prosperity than the arid North and consequently was able to support a
much richer cultural life. Thus for Zhu Yuanzhang, his suspicion of
literature was also connected to his distrust of Southerners. Benjamin
Elman points out that Zhu Yuanzhang also had other reasons for distrusting
Southern literati and wanting to limit their role at court. W hen Zhu
Yuanzhang was fighting for the throne, the Jiangnan elite supported his
^Carrington Goodrich, trans.,"A Study of Literary Persecution during the

Ming," p. 263. The assertion that Xu Yikui was the victim of the emperor's wrath in
this case is not correct, however, Xu having apparently outlived Ming Taizu. See
Dictionary o f Ming Biography, p. 590. the Mingshi records that while an instructor
in Hangzhou, Xu was called to edit the Ming calender. After completion he was
awarded a post in the Hanlin Academy, from which he later resigned due to illness.
See Zhang Tingyu, ed., M ingshi [The Official Ming History], 28 Vols. (Beijing:
Zhonghua shuju, 1987), Vol. 24, 7322-3. The source for the story given by Gu
Jiegang as Xianzhong jingu lu is also not correct. I have not found the source Gu
used. There are so many examples of this nature, however, that we can conclude the
rest of the facts are true. A large percentage of the officials listed by Gu lost their
lives because they used the character construed as meaning thief. Given Taizu's
sensitivity to this word, it is likely he engaged in thievery while a mendicant beggar.
42
rival, Zhang Shicheng. Zhang had made the city of Suzhou his capital,
which did not fall to Zhu Yuanzhang's forces until after a siege lasting
alm ost a year.44 These facts assume particular relevance when we
consider that the Zhang Shicheng who was reported to have slander
hidden in his name by his literary Confucian advisors was none other
than this rebel leader. We can see how in Zhu Yuanzhang's mind the
long-standing association between the South and literary accomplishment
could have additional subversive connotations. These connotations were
embodied in Zhang Shicheng, rival to Zhu Yuanzhang and emblem of
the literary aspersion.
After defeating Zhang Shicheng and pacifying the region, Zhu
instituted an especially heavy tax on Suzhou because, it was said, he
wanted to punish the population for opposing him. Chen Lunxu says
this was not necessarily the case, however, and cites evidence that Zhu
Yuanzhang decided to punish them because of their "wasteful and
extravagant" (chimi $ fp ) life-style.45 This also suggests more forcefully
that Zhu associated moral dissoluteness with the highly crafted literature
of Southerners, a theme which will reoccur later in the dynasty.
Zhu Yuanzhang's mistrust of Southerners' intentions and their
writing peaked during the examination scandal of 1397. In that year Liu
Sanwu §!]H £ (1312-99), a Southerner, presided over the metropolitan
^Benjamin Elman, "'Where is King Ch'eng?' Confucian Examinations and

Imperial Ideology during the Early Ming Dynasty, 1368-1415" (Conference paper
for "Culture and State in Late Imperial China," U.C. Irvine, 6/17-21,1992), 49.
4SYu Yonglin, Beichuang suoyu [Minor Talk from the Northern Window]
(Congshu jicheng, Vol. 2923), 49. Quoted in Chen Lunxu, Ji ming tianshun chenghua
jian dachen nanbei zhi zheng [The Struggle between Powerful Northern and Southern
Officials during the Ming Tainshun and Chenghua reigns], in Qian Mu, ed., Mingdai
zhengzhi [Ming Dynasty Government] (Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1968), note #3.
43
examinations in the capital and passed fifty-two candidates, all from the
South.46 Given the cultural advantages of the South, it was natural that
Southerners would perform better on the examinations. The emperor
was incensed, however, viewing it as a conspiracy to undermine his
power. This is confirmed when we find that Zhu Yuanzhang also
discovered secret slurs hidden in the examination topics composed by
Liu. According to the Ming shilu [Veritable Records of the Ming
Dynasty], Liu Sanwu and his colleagues were not merely guilty of
favoritism when they passed only Southerners:
In Hongwu 30 [1397], at the time the Ministry of Rites was

conducting the metropolitan examinations, the director Liu
Sanwu and the rest composed examination topics which
carried hidden satire against the court and bore evil words 47
Therefore it appeared to Zhu Yuanzhang that Liu Sanwu and the Southern
exam ination candidates were involved in a conspiracy of literary
deception. Liu Sanwu had planted hidden satire in the examination
questions, secretly communicating with like-minded candidates. Zhu
Yuanzhang rejected the outcome of the examinations and personally
conducted a new one, awarding the jinshi degree to sixty-one candidates,
all from the North. In deference to his age, Liu Sanwu was only exiled.
His colleagues were executed.48
In short, writing was a potentially life-threatening avocation during
““A quota system was finally established in 1425 whereby Northerners were
guaranteed 40% of all metropolitan degrees ( The Cambridge History o f China, 280).
47Ming shilu, Vol. 35, 5712. My translation is based on Carrington Goodrich,

trans.,"A Study of Literary Persecution during the Ming," p. 277.
^The Cambridge History o f China, Vol. 7, Pt. 1, pp. 178-9.
44
the reign of Zhu Yuanzhang. Reading, by contrast, was a much safer
pasttime. Song Lian (1310-81) made an ironic remark to this effect
in a conversation with his grandson who was serving with him at court.
The grandson said: "Grandfather has read countless books and so he
has arrived at his present success." Song Lian replied: "If I had read
few books I would not have known the principle of intelligently preserving
my life. How can reading be a crime?"49 In a humorous revision of the
notion that the value of reading lies in attaining moral principle, Song
Lian found reading itself to be the principle of preserving one's life, for
unlike writing, it was difficult to read subversion into the act of reading.
Both a fear of the potentially adverse effects of the written word
and a suspicion that writing concealed immorality rather than transmitting
moral principles appeared in the literati ranks during the dynasty. Literati
who embraced such apprehension did so for reasons different from Zhu
Yuanzhang, however. As we shall see, many of these literati were at the
margins of political power, and were for the most part reacting to what
they perceived as a moral degeneration of the political center. The
values of Zhu Yuanzhang did not remain at the court after his death. It
was the reign of his son, Zhu Di (1360-1424), which had a very
different and more lasting impact on the values of the political center.
Zhu Di and the Literary Confucians
49Li Shaowen, Huangming shishuo xinyu [A New Account of Tales of the

World in the Imperial Ming Dynasty] (Wanli photo reprint. Taibei: Xinxing shuju,
1985), 114. Zhu Yuanzhang later executed Song Lian's grandson and his family for
alledged involvement in Pnme Minister Hu Weiyong's (d. 1380) alleged plot to
usurp power. For details of the plot, see Dictionary o f Ming B iography, Vol. 1,
638-41.
45
After the death of Zhu Yuanzhang, Zhu Di, the Prince of Yan,
challenged the succession to the throne of his fifteen-year-old nephew,

the Jian wen emperor (r. 1392-1402). After three years of warfare,
Zhu's troops defeated the imperial forces and occupied Nanjing, burning
the palace and the Jianwen emperor along with it. As the Yongle
emperor (r. 1403-1424), Zhu Di came to have quite a different view of
"literary Confucians" than did Zhu Yuanzhang. Zhu Di realized that he
needed to give his usurpation of the throne the sanction of Confucian
legitimacy, and the literary skills of a group of high level officials
played an indispensable role in converting Zhu Di's image from
treacherous prince to sage king. In contrast to Zhu Yuanzhang who
suspected literary Confucians of trying to subvert his reign, Zhu Di saw
them as a cornerstone of his imperial consolidation. Zhu Di's reliance
on selected literary-minded officials is especially reflected in the changes
in the grand secretariat during his reign.
Probably the single most influential political event in Ming
institutional history occurred in 1380 when Zhu Yuanzhang abolished
the Secretariat, the government organ responsible for broad policy
form ulation and implementation. Zhu Yuanzhang personally took
responsibility for the work of the Prime Minister, a post he decreed
could never be reinstated for the rest of the dynasty. Even with his
tremendous energy, however, Zhu Yuanzhang needed to rely on the
assistance of personal secretaries recruited from the emperor's personal
staff in the Hanlin Academy and forming a so-called grand secretariat.
Under Zhu Di, the powers of the grand secretariat were greatly enhanced.
46
In a significant administrative reform, Zhu Di moved the offices of the
grand secretariat from outside the imperial city, where it was previously
grouped with the offices of the various ministries, to the Wenyuan Hall
inside the Forbidden City, thus deserving the appellation "Neige"
[inner hall]. This afforded grand secretaries close contact with the
emperor, as well as unusual power. By the 1420s the grand secretariat
was playing an important executive role.50 Significantly, every member
of the initial group of officials appointed by Zhu Di to the grand secretariat

was from the South.51 One grand secretary, Yang Rong (1371-1440),
was valued by Zhu Di to such an extent that he was reputed not to have
left his side for forty years.52 He and two other grand secretaries, Yang
Shiqi (1365-1444) and Yang Pu $§if (1372-1446), known
collectively as the Three Yangs 'EM, would come to dominate court
politics for several decades.
Although an official who served the Jianwen emperor, Yang Rong
played a pivotal role in legitimizing the rule of Zhu Di. Upon meeting
Zhu Di at the gates of Nanjing, Yang Rong asked him, "Will Your
Highness first visit the imperial tomb [of Ming Taizu] or first mount the
throne?"53 Through his question, Yang intimated that Zhu Di should in
fact first pay his respects to Ming Taizu before entering the capital, an
act which would bolster Zhu's claim that he was true heir to the throne.
Zhu Di saw the wisdom in Yang's words and departed immediately for
“ Charles O. Hucker, The Ming Dynasty: Its Origins and Evolving Institutions
(Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, Center for Chinese Studies, 1978), p. 89.
slThe Cambridge History o f China, 208-9.
S2Dictionary o f Ming Biography Vol. 2, p. 1519-20.
53Mingshi, Vol. 14,4138.
47
the imperial tomb, later returning to mount the throne as Ming Taizu's
successor. Yang Rong won Zhu Di's recognition through his political
astuteness and willingness to aid in the task of imperial legitimation.
Yang Rong and Yang Shiqi, another official during the Jianwen
reign who welcomed Zhu Di and likewise was promoted to grand secretary,
both played key parts in falsifying the historical records to make Zhu
Di's usurpation appear legitimate. Yang Shiqi had previously helped
compile the Taizu shilu [Veritable Records of Ming Taizu]
under the Jianwen emperor and it was Yang Rong who was in charge of
revising the same in order to doctor the record. He and his staff lengthened
Zhu Yuanzhang's reign by four years, effectively erasing the Jianwen
emperor from history.
Zhu Di's enthusiasm for literary accomplishments was not limited
to historical writing. While Zhu Yuanzhang gave only his grudging
assent to the examination system, Zhu Di gave it his wholehearted support,
evidenced by his ordering the compilations of Song Daoxue philosophy
and interpretations of the Classics: Sishu daquan [Great
Compendium of the Four Books], Wujing daquan [Great
Compendium of the Five Classics], and Xingli daquan [The
Great Compendium of Human Nature and Moral Principle]. As one
might expect, the Three Yangs were also staunch supporters of ChengZhu
learning. Yang Shiqi was especially vociferous in his defense of
orthodoxy, suggesting burning the books of anyone who dared criticize
the Song Confucians.54 The great compendiums of Song philosophy
had a significant effect on classical scholarship at the Ming court. As an
MDictionary of Ming Biography Vol. 2, p. 1536.
48
example of their influence we can cite Xue Xuan j^ J t [1389-1464], a
protege of Yang Shiqi who rose to grand secretary, chancellor of the
Hanlin Academy, and became the first Ming scholar to have his tablet
placed in the Confucian temple. He was so enamored of the Xingli
daquan that he piously copied the entire book by hand.5S His faith in
the compendiums as the final word on Confucian principles is reflected

in his remark: "Ever since Zhu Xi made the Dao clear, there is no more
need to write about it. All that is necessary is to put it into practice."56
Zhu Di's enthusiasm for Confucian scholarship appears to have
been directly related to his murder of the Jianwen emperor and illegitimate
takeover of the throne. Benjamin Elman has shown that through
patronizing ChengZhu Confucianism and its doctrine of the daotong,
Zhu Di appropriated for himself the appellation of "sage-king" and thus
legitimized his rule.57 Yang Rong and Yang Shiqi would later cooperate
on the compilation of the Veritable Records of Zhu Di's reign. They
continued to make Zhu Di into a sage even after his death, including in
the chronicle, for instance, the tale that the Yellow River ran clear on
the day of Zhu Di's birth, proof that heaven had anointed a new sage on
earth. Zhu Di was successful in extinguishing all opposition to his rule
at court, and he and his ministers succeeded as well in presenting himself
as the legitimate emperor to successive generations. It was not until the
eve of the Manchu victory in 1644 that the Jianwen emperor was accorded
a name for imperial sacrifices in what must have been a last-ditch effort
“ Huang Zongxi, "Wenqing Xue Jingxuan xianshen Xuan," Mingru xuean

[The Records of Ming Scholars] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985), Vol. 1,109.
56Dictionary o f Ming Biography 617.

S7Benjamin Elman, "Where is King Ch'eng?," 6-7.
49
to save the Ming through ritual and cosmic supplication. There is
evidence, however, that Zhu Di's usurpation did not go unchallenged in
the minds of some literati.
W m Y ebi: Political Alienation and Language Pathos
Wu Yubi [1392-1469] was the son of an important official
and had the good fortune to study with Yang Pu in the capital. According
to Huang Zongxi, while reading the Yiluo yuanyuan lu [Record
of the Origins of the School of the Cheng Brothers], Wu read that
Cheng Yi was fond of hunting. This triggered an epiphany in the
eighteen-year-old Wu who delightfully concluded that this proved the
sages were but ordinary men and so even he could attain sagehood
himself. By his own account, Wu says that after he discovered the Song
masters, "I completely burned my literary exercises for the examinations
and single-mindedly devoted m yself to Zhou [Dunyi], the Cheng
[Brothers], Zhang [Zai], and Shao [Yong] g|Jfg (1011-77), and studied
them by myself."58 Wu Yubi discovered, it seems, that the Dao had
little to do with the essays he was writing on topics in the Confucian
canon.
Chaoying Fang, Julia Ching, and Huang P'ei have made a
convincing argument that what Wu Yubi in fact discovered during his
^Wu Yubi, "Yu Tongshi yan Xundao shu," Kangzhai j i [Wu Yubi's Collected
Works] ( Wenyuan ge siku chuanshu, Vol. 1251,357-596), 8 .17b.
50
studies was the truth about the present emperor Zhu Di's murder and
usurpation of the throne of Jianwen. (Wu was only eleven years old
when this occurred.) Seeing the obvious incompatibility between
Confucian moral principles and the actions of Zhu Di, W u allegedly
renounced officialdom lest he serve a usurper. As evidence of Wu's
disenchantment with Zhu Di, Chaoying Fang et. al. cite Hu Juren SJflCl
(1434-1484), W u Yubi's foremost disciple, who also refused to take the
examinations. In Hu's writings are two entries denouncing any emperor
who might usurp the throne, along with a declaration that virtuous men
would never serve such a ruler.59
Other evidence indicates that the young Wu Yubi was indeed
highly disturbed by the world he lived in. In a poem written in the same
year that he discovered the path to sagehood, we find brooding, troubled
language, hardly the optimism we might expect from a young man
newly embarked on a quest to attain the Dao:
Singing interrupted, difficult to finish the tune,

Dusty weave, searching among unraveled strands.
Rise and fall, these are the events of past and present,
One essence, the mind of the sages and worthies.
The new moon, when will it be full?
W inter crickets, innumerable chirps.
Deep night, two passing birds,
Pining for the high forest.60
Wu gave the poem the vague title of "Ji shi" gpi? [On an Event]. This
S9D ictionary o f Ming Biography Vol. 2, pp. 1497-98. For Hu Juren's

condemnation, see his "Diwang shigong," Juye lu [Record of Abiding in Wariness]
(Congshu jicheng, Vols. 656-67), 4.55.
“ "Ji shi," Kangzhai ji, 1,1a.
51
suggests it concerns an actual occurrence—what precisely remains
unmentioned. Something was cut short or remained unfinished, and Wu
laments this fact and, given the state of things, appears pessimistic about
the chances for its recovery or continuation. The song interrupted may
refer to the reign of the Jianwen emperor, the teachings of the sages, or
both. Regardless, the poem shows the eighteen-year-old Wu as extremely
troubled with the state of the world, seeing himself as a lone individual
seeking to recover what was lost and yearning for a sanctuary. The
poem is significant in light of Wu's actions following his so-called
epiphany. He cloistered himself upstairs in his house and did not leave
his room for two years, all the while reading the Four Books, the Classics,
and the recorded conversations of Song Confucians.61 Chaoying Fang
et. cd. speculate that Wu's father, fearing that Wu's views would bring
death to the entire family if they became known, locked his son up.
When after two years Wu did not repent, his father sent him back to the
family home in Chongren County, Jiangxi, and severed their relationship.
Another piece of evidence that Chaoying Fang et. al. cite is a letter W u
Yubi sent to his father in 1421 which shows their relationship had been
severely strained. In it Wu makes the following confession:
W hen I was 17 or 18, although I sensed that my zeal for

reading books was too strong, I said that it wasn't difficult
to attain to the ancients and was disrespectful to my seniors
and negligent in my duty toward you. Although you
frequently chastised me I was unable to rectify my wild
ignorance.... Even death is too lenient a punishment for
my crime.62
61Huang Zongxi, "Pingjun Wu Kangzhai xiansheng Yubi," Mingru xuean,

V ol.l, 14.
52
The disagreement between father and son may have involved something
more than fear on the part of Wu's father that his son would bring harm
to the family. Wu Yubi's father, Wu Pu [1363-1426], was the
epitome of examination success, graduating optimus in 1400 and serving
as a Hanlin compiler during the Jianwen reign. Like Yang Rong and
Yang Shiqi, however, he switched his allegiance to Zhu Di after the
usurpation. Not only did he serve Zhu Di as director of studies in the
National University in Nanjing, but he also worked with Yang Rong on
the revision of the Shilu of Zhu Yuanzhang's reign to cover up the
usurpation. It is thus likely that upon discovering the truth, W u Yubi
also realized that his own father actively participated in the heinous
crime.
This consideration gives us some insight into W u's years of
seclusion which, given the enthusiasm he later expressed for locking
oneself up for a few years with books, I believe was self-imposed. Wu's
zeal for reading of course informed him that withdrawal was sanctioned
by Zhu Xi and other eminent Confucians as a proper response during
times when the Dao is absent from the world. In fact Wu's behavior
mimics that of Chen Lie, the scholar praised by Zhu Xi for understanding
priorities in learning. And as we shall soon see, Wu accepted this as a
proper strategy for pursuing learning. In seclusion, Wu was not merely
honing his sagehood skills, for he was no doubt wrestling with one of
the classic moral dilemmas of Confucianism. What does a filial son do
when confronted with the moral lapses of the father? A solution of
62"Shang yanqin shu," Kangzhai ji, 8 .12b.
53
which Wu was no doubt aware is found in the Lunyu:
The Duke of She informed Kongzi, saying, "Among us are

those who may be styled upright in their conduct. If their
father have stolen a sheep, they will bear witness to the
fact." Kongzi said, "Among us, in our part of the country,
those who are upright are different from this. The father
conceals the misconduct of the son, and the son conceals
the misconduct of the father. Uprightness is to be found in
this."63
But what if the misconduct of the father involves stealing the legitimate
place of the Son of Heaven, and concealing the lapses of the father
means abetting the usurpation of the throne? In these circumstances
how could W u proceed in a moral manner consistent with the teachings
he struggled to emulate? There was no real solution. The fact that W u
finally came to reverse his opinions in 1541 and repudiate his actions of
a decade earlier indicates the extent to which he wrestled with the quandary.
Father and son were eventually reconciled, but the persistent question of
how to be moral in the conduct of one's daily life, and in a world which
was often immoral, would become Wu Yubi's lifelong preoccupation.
A true devotee of Zhu Xi and Cheng Yi, Wu followed their doctrines
closely insofar that he placed the locus of Confucian learning on the
effort of moral cultivation and moral practice. In fact, to distinguish
Wu's concerns from those of Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi, Wu appeared obsessed
with his own moral cultivation to the exclusion of anything else. Absent
are any metaphysical speculations or discussion of the theoretical
foundations of the Confucian moral agenda which Song Confucians
a Lunyu zhushu, 13.51c, translated in Legge, The Four Books, 270.
54
were so fond of. "There is no time or no place that is not moral
effort."64 said Wu, and from a kind of moral diary Wu kept, the Rilu 0
£1 [Daily Record], we can see that he genuinely took himself to task.
W ritten W ords: Snares and Signposts on the Path to Sagehood
Conventional characterizations of Wu Yubi as a moral practitioner

whose "philosophy was that of personal demonstration instead of
intellectual speculation"65 deemphasize the fact that he was an unusually
avid reader. We will remember that it was while reading that W u first
realized the path to sagehood. During the time he was holed up in his
room in the capital, it seems Wu did little else but read. In later years
W u described his life at the capital as "reading day and night without
stop."66 In the set of rules he drew up for his students to follow, Wu
even made locking oneself up for a few years with a pile of books a
prerequisite for moral advancement:
When the ancients read they did so with such singleness of

mind and will that they did not come out of their houses. If
one can expend effort like this for three of four years so as
to establish some foundation, then one can advance.67
“ Huang Zongxi, "Wu Kangzhai xiansheng yu," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1,28.
6SWing-tsit Chan, "The Ch'eng-Chu School o f the Early Ming," in Wm.

Theodore de Bary, ed., Self and Society in Ming Thought (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1970), 39.
“ "Rilu," Kangzhai ji, 11.7a.

67"Xuegui," ibid., 8.43b.
55
As his diary makes clear, reading the Confucian tradition was a source
of moral guidance for Wu his entire life, and his initial epiphany from
reading would be repeated. For instance, years later he would write to a
disciple: "Since the coming of Spring this year I have been doing
nothing but reading the Daxue, lim yu, Mengzi and Zhongyong. One
day I suddenly came to a realization and sighed: T he way of the sages is
easy to understand and easy to follow after all!'"68 In his diary entries
there are frequent references to reading and books as a source of
enlightenment. For example, Wu wrote the following entry: "While
reading the Zhongyong I had a profound realization of the essentials of
learning of the mind. Then I sighed that this mind is not easily retained."69
In other entries we find Wu turning to books as a sort of moral tonic in
order to dispel a bad mood or achieve peace of mind when difficulties in
the external world pressed in.70 Wu says that reading the works of the
Cheng brothers, for instance, "balances the mind and harmonizes the
qi.'m
Although the way of the sages at times appeared difficult to pursue
and the personal moral path that Wu strove to follow often took
disheartening dips and turns, the Confucian books remained Wu's one
steady guidepost. On a more intimate level for Wu, they also were a
doorway to a personal communion with the ancients. "Why worry
68"Yu Xu Xiren xundao shu," ibid., 8 .15a.
69"Rilu," ibid., 11.17a.
70In his daily record Wu writes of reading in order to soften his mood
(11.2b) and achieve mental equalibrium in the face of poverty and illness (11.11a;
11.23b).
11Kangzhai ji, 11.29a.
56
about not being able to be among the ancients?" asks Wu. "Just carefully
read the Classics they left behind."72 Wu himself found that he was
literally able to be among the ancients, in his dreams. His first diary
entry is an account of a dream encounter with Kongzi and King Wen,
and a few entries later he describes dreaming about Zhu X i.73 The
written words of the sages, which Wu recited silently to himself while
lying in bed before sleep,74 seems to have brought him face to face with
the sages in his dreams. Wu in fact specifically mentions that reading
before sleep affects his dreams.75 Consider the peculiar juxtaposition of
reading and dreaming in this couplet in a poem W u wrote entitled
"Composed in Bed on the Night of the Winter Solstice": "Thoughts
only of the sages and worthies/ Dreams never departing from written
characters."76 Reading the words of the ancients and communing with
them in dream become two closely interconnected activities for Wu.
W ritten words and the act of reading, like dreams themselves, took on
an almost magical quality allowing the reader to be transported to the
world of the ancient sages.
For all his faith in the written character and the marvelous benefits
of reading, Wu Yubi also distrusted the word and worried that it could
have deleterious effects on a reader who lacked control and vigilance.
The word could provide enlightenment, but so too could it lead to increased
^"Shieryue shiri jueju," ibid., 1.34b.
^"Rilu," ibid., 11.1a. Later Wu again records dreaming of Kongzi and Zhu
Xi (11.35b).
74"Rilu," ibid., 11.10b.
7SIbid, 11.28a.
76”Dongzhi ye zhenshang zuo," ibid., 2 .10b.
57
ignorance and confusion. We may recall Wu Yubi's letter to his father
in which he repudiated his behavior after he supposedly embarked on
the way of the sages as a young man: "When I was 17 or 18, although I
sensed that my zeal for reading books was too strong, I said that it
wasn't difficult to attain to the ancients and was disrespectful to my
seniors and negligent in my duty toward you." The fact that W u finds
the root of his errors in his zeal for reading is a striking admission from
one so enamored of the word, especially when accounts of that period
in his life portray reading as the inspiration for his setting out on the
way of the sages. If we examine Wu's writings closely, we find several
instances where dangers posed by reading are either implicitly or explicitly
foregrounded. In the following advice to a student, Wu quotes Zhu Xi
on how to read and includes his own warning about the possibly harmful
effects of reading as well:
[One] must savor the flavor of each line and paragraph and
let it enter the mind, and then seeing the intention/meaning
with which the sages and worthies taught people, it will
appear clearly outside of words The ancients
said: "Read a book ten-thousand times and its meaning H
will appear of itself." These are not empty words. The
Four Books and the Five Classics are the fundamental texts.
Once these are mastered then one can read the commentaries
and beyond to the philosophers and histories. If in reading
one does not follow the order so as to reach the essence f f
then one will only drift. Miscellaneous reading will result
in a disequilibrium in affairs and deterioration of the spirit.
Wasting time like this is a great pity. I deeply regret that I
have suffered from this ailment my entire life.77
^"Yu Yue Rang shu" (ca. 1436), ibid., 8.31a.
58
It was as a disciple of Zhu Xi that W u Yubi read the books of the
ancients, knowing that they were the key to illumination and yet mindful
that harm could befall an unwary reader. When it is claimed that Wu
Yubi was a moral practitioner not concerned with Confucian metaphysics,
we ought to recognize that his views of written language were still
indebted to the metaphysical framework of Song Daoxue scholars. The
ambiguous status of the word meant that reading could be both a source
of clarity and confusion, equanimity and imbalance, depending on how
one reads. Here repeating Mengzi and Daoxue scholars, W u cautions
that one must read in a way that attains what is "essential," that is, in a
way that apprehends the intention of the sages and worthies. It is not
clear whether Wu shares entirely Zhu Xi's misgivings. It appears from
the quote he chose that the reason reading was such a precarious enterprise
was that the intention of the sages cannot be confused with surface
meaning or definition of the written character as it lies "outside of
words." This apparent lack of faith in the word alone is repeated elsewhere
where he warns that reading can devolve into "attaining old words on a
page" that cannot encompass the mind.78 What one reads and in what
order one reads is also of paramount importance. We find W u Yubi
initially restricting proper reading to a limited canon, based on the
Confucian curriculum devised by Zhu Xi. He ultimately sanctions reading
the Classics, philosophers and history, which are three of the four major
bibliographic subdivisions of Chinese letters. The one omitted, individual
compilations, suggests that Wu was wary of the negative effects of
reading belle lettres or perhaps agreed with the Cheng brothers that
78"Y u Youren shu" (1422), ibid., 8.25a-b.
59
"literature harms the Dao." The one additional clue about what not to
read that Wu gives us is the admission that he himself suffered from
miscellaneous reading. From Wu's writings, however, there is no
indication that he read anything outside the boundaries he names. In
fact he seems to have read little else but the Four Books and the writings
of Song Daoxue scholars. At one point he even laments that his reading
has not been broad enough.79
Wu's claim that his defect involved reading the wrong books also
does not completely tally with his description of his downfall in the
capital as due to his being an overzealous reader. The precise nature of
his misgivings is difficult to pinpoint. In Wu's writings the fear of the
word is largely a hidden subtext to his overwhelming love for it, and
when the fear is articulated there seems to be some confusion as to what
exactly is the cause. This largely repressed dark side of the word
nevertheless surfaces, at times in ways which are unexpected and even
downright pathological. In his writings, for instance, Wu is very explicit
in telling us that reading causes physical illness. In a letter Wu wrote to
a friend who complained of suffering from a debilitating illness, he
gives this surprising diagnosis: "You say [in your letter] that you were
suddenly stricken with weakness. [In your case] this was brought on by
reading too hard."80 Wu's belief that the act of reading can make one
sick is of course a reflection of, or reflected in, his own experience. In
the letter W u goes on to give another version of his confession of
overzealous reading as a youth:
79"Rilu," ibid., 11.10b.
“ "Yu youren shu," ibid., 8.25a.
60
W hen I was young I did not understand things. I was
impatient to progress and always used up my strength on
books, and moreover read them in a loud voice. This drained
my vital energy (yuanqi jtM ) and was extremely harmful.
When I lived in the capital I fell ill, and thereafter did not
dare read in a loud voice.... [Now] whenever I read I stop
when I begin to feel a little tired.81
A t least half a dozen entries in Wu's daily record confirm that he often
felt severely fatigued from reading, or had to curtail his reading because
of his health.82 Sometimes Wu says he feels poorly because of reading,
and sometimes reading and ill health are merely juxtaposed, suggesting
the connection may not have been explicit in W u's own mind. One
entry in 1426 relates: "Outside the Southern Studio I read one juan of
the Mengzi with a reverent countenance. In the afternoon my eyes hurt
and my limbs were tired so I went to bed."83 The same year he writes
that he had to put aside his books because his eyes hurt, and soon later
rationalized that not having any books was in fact appropriate to a poor
and humble man such as himself.84 In the year 1434 Wu writes that his
eyes have been so painful, that he has not been able to read for over a
OC
year.
From his dedicated study of Song Daoxue thinkers, W u Yubi
knew that too much concentration on the written word was harmful.
81Ibid., 8.25a-b.
“ See, for instanc, 11.14a; 11.27b; 11.21a;11.37b;11.39b;l 1.40a.
“ "Rilu," ibid., 11.10a.
’“Ibid, 11.9b.
“ Ibid., 11.22a.
61
Yet it was the written word that sustained him in his worldly travails
and in his struggle for personal moral transcendence. A full
acknowledgment of the dangers the word posed were impossible for
Wu. Nevertheless, this recognition surfaced from time to time, more
often than not in ways about which W u was not fully conscious. In this
sense, writing proved much less problematic for Wu, for he could fully
acknowledge its benefits and pitfalls.
Wu Yubi was a cautious writer just as he was a cautious reader.
Like reading, writing for W u could lead directly to moral epiphany or
degradation. One of the indications that W u saw writing as potentially
harmful is the relative paucity of Ms own written works. Although a
student of the Confucian literary arts, W u nevertheless shied away from
the exegetical work on the Classics wMch were normally the bread and
butter of committed Confucian literati. Huang Zongxi noted, for instance,
that Wu was dismayed by the proliferation o f commentaries wMch, he
complained, were actually harmful to the Classics, and so was extremely
circumspect in terms of his own writing.86 Huang's comment higMights
the contrast between Wu Yubi's avoiding Classics commentaries just as
new compilations appear under imperial auspices in the capital. While
we find Xue Xuan obsessed with the Xingli daxuan, Wu never mentions
it or the other "great compendiums."
W u Yubi was suspicious of any writing which did not directly
further moral cultivation. In connection with this, Wu also frowned
upon reading in order merely to become a more proficient writer. In the
“ Huang Zongxi, "Pingjun Wu Kangzhai xiansheng Yubi," Mingru xuean,

15. Wu Yubi's writings concentrate mostly on his own efforts to achieve mental
tranquility. Wu evidently had a very bad temper and in his diary he points to this as
a recurring impediment to his moral development
62
regulations for his students we see an injunction against the wrong kind
of reading/writing: "If you wish to hunt [through books] in order to aid
the mouth and ears and craft poetic couplets as your vocation, this is
frivolous and not something I know."87 The "mouth and ears" refers to
reading/hearing text and teachings and then merely repeating the words
without digesting any moral lessons. It often refers to people who use
the teachings of the sages purely for utilitarian ends, like passing the
examinations. As for Wu's objections to writing poetry, the word "craft"
is the key, for he is objecting to the kind of poetry that aims at the
skilled manipulation of words. Again the defect lies in an exclusive
concentration on words at the expense of the moral principles "behind"
the words, and this holds true for all forms of language. Speaking about
the scholars of his generation, Wu says:
They pursue the craft of spoken and written language, but

this is only effective for gaining fame and advancement.
Although their intentions may be increasingly earnest and
their learning increasingly broad, in the end how will it
benefit the body and mind?88
W e may recall that W u burned all his examination exercises after he

first decided to pursue sagehood. They clearly were examples of craft.
Hu Juren echoes these sentiments: "Today people only use the books of
the sages and worthies to augment their speech and literary compositions,
their having absolutely no connection with their own mind and body."89
^"Xuegui," Kangzhai ji, 8.43b.
^"Lizhizhai ji," ibid., 10.1b.

Juren, "Xuewen gongfu," Juye lu, 2.15.
63
From Wu Yubi's traumatic experience as a young man in the
capital he may as well have learned the poignant lesson that literary
accomplishments of famous and powerful officials often had little to do
with, or at times may have been diametrically opposed to, true Confucian
principles, that literary craft was the preferred method for immoral cover-
ups. Similarly, Hu Juren claimed that "during the Yongle reign there
were no moral and upright scholars to be seen, only a lot of talented
men composing poetry and prose.90 According to W u Yubi, attention
to poetic craft and over-emphasis on the formal aspect of words lost the
root of genuine poetry:
Completely discard the habits of craft and beauty, symmetry,

and tonal regulations. Thoroughly read the Poetry Classic.
Ruminate over its phrases, pursue the meaning, immerse
yourself in the flavor, let the intention of your mind meld
with it and thereby be transformed. Then the emotions will
be regulated, the tones harmonious. Do not become mired
in the number of characters or lines, but pursue rhyme in
order to facilitate singing. Then you will be close!91
One ought to write poetry in such a way that one is not ensnared by
words, and here the methods of reading and writing poetry are directly
inspired by Zhu Xi and Cheng Yi.
It is especially significant in this light that Wu Yubi and Hu Juren
were both avid poets. Poetry, in fact, accounts for by far the largest
section in W u's collected works. In a poem entitled "Xiao" H
90Hu Juren, "Diwang shigong," Juye lu, 4.47. See also Dictionary o f Ming
Biography, V o l.2 ,1498.
91Wu Yubi, quoted in Jian Jinsong Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu. [A Study
o f Literary Criticism of the Ming Dynasty] (Taibei: Taiwan xuesheng shuju, 1989),
210 .
64
[Understanding] and written around the same time he wrote the letter of
regret to his father, Wu tells us of the salutary effects of poetry writing:
"The Dao present, my mind avoids partiality/ The poem completed, my
qi becomes clear."92 In another poem from approximately the same
time, Wu also connects poetry and a mind attuned to Dao: "In quietude,
poetic thoughts arise/ While at rest, the mind of Dao grows."93 Writing
poetry was thus an exercise in mental and spiritual cultivation. This
was not true of all poetry writing, of course, for poetry, like the word,
could be either snare or signpost. The right kind of poetry was a direct
expression of moral ambition, the wrong kind a manifestation of secular
ambition via the exterior manipulation of words. The right, moral kind
of poetry is not crafted. It is not culled from books, nor is it even rooted
in language. It is rather a direct expression of the innate moral nature:
"Poetry has a source. It is rooted in heaven and grounded in man's
nature.. . .',94 These words of Hu Juren mark poetry as the literary genre
which conforms to Zhu Xi's interpretation of literature as the expression
of the moral fundament.
Literary and Other Asceticism
W u Yubi and Hu Juren's rejection of the poetics of craft and

secular ambition was directed at the less than virtuous officials at court
“ "Xiao" (1419), Kangzhaiji, 1.7a.
“ "Xianzhong" (1420), ibid., 1.13a.

^Hu Juren, "Liufang shiji houxu," quoted in Jian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue
piping yanjiu, 208.
65
who in their politics and their poetry sacrificed morality to ambition.
Their rejection of the values of the political center was also reflected in
their ascetic life-styles. Returning to his hometown after leaving what
must have been a life of very comfortable circumstances in the capital,
W u adopted an extremely humble mode of living. It is said that when
people saw him they could not believe he was the son of an official in
the capital, so poor and shabby were his clothes. For the greater part of
his life, Wu tells us, he lived in poverty. He relates on different occasions
that he had to borrow food from a neighbor, could not afford oil so had
to read at night by the light of burning kindling, and that his roof leaked
so badly that when it rained there was not a dry spot in the entire
house.95 He lived the life of a common farmer tilling his own land, a
way of life he also made part of the basic curriculum for his students.
Hu Juren followed the example of his teacher and chose a life of severe
asceticism. He wore ragged clothes, ate little, and lived in a house with
a leaky roof. Some dispute whether W u was actually so impoverished,
noting that records appear to show he had servants. Wu's real financial
status, or whether or not he provided for himself with the labor of his
own hands, is really less relevant than the fact that W u chose to adopt
the guise of a poor farmer and that he saw this kind of life-style as
conducive to moral progress. In his diary W u wrote:
From today on I must be utterly pure, humble, and in accord

with morality, then I'll be close. Alas! If one can attain to
this in one's lifetime, then even if one dies of hunger or
cold or is executed, how can it harm a true gentleman? But
if one is unable to do this, although at the apex of wealth
9S"Rilu," Kangzhaiji, 11.15a; 11.20b; 11.20a.
66
and longevity, one cannot avoid being a small man.96
If Wu here does not exactly equate morality with poverty, he at least

sanctions the humble life he chose as a moral one. In this respect, Wu is
travelling a well-trodden trail.
Asceticism as a form of moral expression of course had a long
tradition in Confucian culture, the notion of "simplicity" (p u m) in
life-style being naturally associated with the ancients. Huang Zongxi,
therefore, described Wu Yubi as "able to pursue the simplicity of high
antiquity."97 Recalling Hui, the virtuous disciple of Kongzi, Wu would
remind himself that to be extremely poor and yet remain joyful was an
indication of moral worth.98 The host of exiled and marginalized poets,
Qu Yuan and Tao Yuanming HPiTO (365-427) in particular, also confirmed
for Wu that embracing an ascetic life-style and rejecting the comforts of
the capital were ennobling. Filial piety also deserves some mention in
this regard. Filial piety was considered the premier moral activity,
especially during the Ming dynasty when it became a focus of attention
in the lives of literati as well as in larger political debates. Filial piety
also commonly involved a certain amount of ascetic practice, like
abstaining from physical pleasures as part of the duties of a filial son.
One incident from Wu's life nicely illustrates this. After he was married
in his hometown, Wu did not enter the nuptial chamber until he had
travelled back to the capital to report the marriage to his father. Filial
behavior could even involve severe physical deprivation, especially when
’‘Huang Z ongxi,"Wu Kangzhai xiansheng yu,HMingru xuean, Vol. 1, 22.
’’Huang Zongxi, "Pingjun Wu Kangzhai xiansheng Yubi," ibid., 16

’’For Kongzi's praise of Hui, see Lunyu zhu shu, 6.22b.
67
mourning the death of a parent. In observing mourning for his parents,
for example, Hu Juren refrained from eating until "his bones stood out
like withered branches" and was unable to rise without the aid of a
sta ff." This description, like the description of Hu's poor dwelling,
served to highlight his morality.
The moral value bestowed on simplicity had a literary counterpart.
It was common perception that literature which valued omateness was
divorced from the values of antiquity, especially given the Daoxue
criticism of literature which was divorced from the root of Dao. Wu
Yubi's literary asceticism — his rejection of all reading and writing that
did not directly aid in moral cultivation — complemented his rustic
life-style. Through denial of the text, and especially those writings
designed to afford aesthetic pleasures, Wu underlined his commitment
to moral values. This literary asceticism, however, was practiced in a
context of veritable reading binges. In a sense, Wu's indulgence in
reading also had its ascetic side. The physical degradation and suffering
caused by reading mirrored the effects of other extreme moral behavior,
such as during mourning for one's parents. W u Yubi's insistence that
over-reading could lead to illness was associated with its moral value.
W hen complaining about his reading-induced illnesses, therefore, Wu
was also registering the depth of his moral commitment.
Asceticism in terms of literature and life-style, filial piety, seclusion,
and extreme devotion to reading are related themes we find intertwined
in the lives of many Ming literati. For instance, Wang Wen (1538
"Huang Zongxi, "Wu Kangzhai xiansheng yu," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1, 29.
Translated in Julia Ching, The Records o f Ming Scholars (Honolulu: University of
Hawaii Press, 1987), 77.
68
j . s .) who after passing the civil service examinations and becoming an
official requested retirement in order to care for his aging father. After
his father's death he refused to return to officialdom and instead built a
hut by a lake where he "reads books for thirty years without ever entering
a town."100 Over and over again we find officials returning home to care
for parents, and then opting for a life of seclusion and study. The
description of "never entering a town" is found as well in many biographies
of Ming literati and functions as an illustration of rejection of luxury
and sensual pleasure and a single-minded pursuit o f moral concerns.
Wu Yubi was a model for later literati, not only by virtue of his
quest for a moral life at the expense of other valid Confucian concerns
like governing and writing commentaries on the Classics, but also by his
motivations for doing so. Wu Yubi's sense of alienation from the political
center and subsequent search for new values in seclusion on the political
margin was a scenario that would be repeated later in the dynasty. We
will discover that the political margins were a source of great innovations
in Ming literati culture, innovations that for the most part conform to
Wu Yubi's sensibilities: disappointment with the values circulating at
the political center, a concern with personal moral regeneration, and,
increasingly, a distrust of the written word. Wu's pathological relationship
with the written word, although somewhat quirky, really inaugurated a
new relationship between reader and text in the Ming dynasty, one that
eventually would be marked by even more distrust than found in their
Song dynasty counterparts. Despite the bland assertions of well-known
early Ming literati like Song Lian that the "Six Classics are all the
looMingshi, Vol. 24,7246.
69
learning of the mind," the suspicion that the written word was divorced
from morality was ingrained from the beginning of the Ming dynasty.
Praise was slander; the words of a sage were spoken by a usurper; the
power of the word to uplift turned malignant, draining the reader who
sought its sustenance.
70
C hapter 2
C hen X ianzhang and the Poetics of the Political M argin
From the earliest known uses of writing as a tool for prognostication
at the Shang court, faith in the efficacy of the written word has been
supported by the imperatives of the Chinese state. The recognized value
of legal codes and their dissemination in the Qin and the formation of a
state sponsored textual orthodoxy in the Han were the enduring legacies
which bound together the word and the state in the Middle and Late
Imperial periods. Attitudes toward the word at the political center never
remained static, however, and as we have seen in the examples of Zhu
Yuanzhang and Zhu Di, could shift dramatically depending on the
perceptions and needs of the imperial personality. On the whole, however,
Zhu Di's recognition of the power of the word for imperial legitimation
was the rule and Zhu Yuanzhang's fear of the word undermining his
own power the exception. And even with his peasant background and
distrust of writing, Zhu Yuanzhang nevertheless recognized the value of
the Ming legal code and generally supported the civil service examination
system despite his misgivings. It was this latter institution which ingrained
a reverence for the words of the Confucian Classics, making them quite
literally the life-long objects of study for would-be officials. The belief
that the Classics, and by extension successful examination essays,
"conveyed the Dao" provided the rationale that the system worked to
select moral men. Although the examination system claimed to measure
the moral worth of candidates, in actuality literary skill was the
71
fundamental criterion for examination success. This fact was not lost on
the candidates, for they spent years of preparation memorizing the Classics
and writing practice essays, not necessarily perfecting the moral arts of
filial piety and the like.
T he G ra n d S ecretariat and the Poetics of the Political C enter
The status of the word at the political center was also enhanced
by institutional structures peculiar to the Ming dynasty. The
institutionalized process for choosing grand secretaries, whereby top
examination candidates entered the Hanlin Academy where they received
extensive literary training,1 and in turn the best of the Hanlin
academicians were groomed for the Grand Secretariat, insured that the
most powerful officials in the land were elevated to their positions largely
due to their literary prowess rather than their administrative abilities.2
It is not surprising then that literary fashion came to be closely associated
with court politics in the first half of the dynasty and that grand secretaries
became literary doyens.
After the Yongle reign, the power of the grand secretaries continued
to increase. One of the responsibilities of grand secretaries was the
education of the heir apparent, and the close relationships formed often
‘For an example of the rigorous training of newly appointed members, see

Jian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu [A Study of Literary Criticism of the
Ming Dynasty] (Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1989), 29-35.
2Only on rare occasions did emperors circumvent this process when choosing
grand secretaries. One notable exception was the appointment o f Qiu Jun, an
official in the bureaucracy, to the Grand Secretariat.
72
contributed to their exalted positions as personal confidants once the
heir ascended the throne. Zhu Di's son, Zhu Gaozhi (r. 1424-25), a
devotee of literature and the Classics, elevated the status of grand
secretaries by conferring upon them prestigious honorary titles and
promoting them to concurrent high-level administrative positions. He
promoted Grand Secretaries Yang Shiqi and Yang Rong as concurrent
ministers of W ar and Personnel, respectively. Yang Pu was made a
special advisor to the emperor.3 Not long after, he was appointed
Hanlin academician and concurrent grand secretary. All three had tutored
Zhu Gaozhi before he took the throne, and all three retained their posts
through the succeeding Xuande reign (1426-1435). During this time
grand secretaries continued the precedent of directly memorializing the
throne and the emperor added a procedure whereby they reviewed all
memorials to the throne and suggested appropriate responses to the
emperor.4 Their political power was second only to the emperor himself.
The grand secretaries were responsible for a resurgence in literary
interests at the Ming court, for instance, a revival of interest in Song
ancient prose (guwen). Ouyang Xiu the Song leader of the guwen
movement was greatly admired by Yang Rong and Yang Shiqi. Yokota
Terutoshi suggests that in this respect they may have been influenced by
the emperor, Zhu Gaozhi, although it is more likely the other way around
given that the emperor was indebted to these men for his early education.
3Yang Pu was evidently a victim of a plot to discredit Zhu Gaozhi, the heir
apparent, hatched by supporters of his jealous younger brothers. He was imprisoned
for ten years before Zhu Gaozhi acceded to the throne and could release him.
4Frederick W. Mote and Denis Twitchett, eds., The Cambridge H istory o f
China Vol. 7: The Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), Part 1 ( Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1988), 286-7.
73
Yang Rong claimed that Ouyang's literature extended back to Kongzi
and Mengzi.5 In doing so, he replaced Zhu Xi's Daotong with a kind
of wentong [orthodox transmission of literature], making a claim
for the value of guw en, and literature in general, with an appeal to
orthodoxy. This was a claim for the value of their own literature as
well. The Three Yangs portrayed themselves as continuing the guwen
tradition in which literature was a reflection of their own culture and
bearing, the majesty of the empire, and the wisdom of the sages. The
sharp disagreements between the guwen and Daoxue schools in the
Song were either no longer recalled or actively suppressed, for there
could be no doubt that the Dao was entirely manifest in the world and
that the corollary was also true, that the literature of the grand secretaries
conveyed the Dao. Their literature, as Yang Pu described that of Yang
Rong, was "rooted in meanings and principles."6 Just as Daoxue became
subsumed under the rubric of the examinations and came to sanction the
eight-legged essay, here "meanings and principles," meant originally as
a hermeneutic for reading, is turned on its head and made to sanction the
literary writings of the grand secretaries.
As Wu Yubi's distrust of the word was connected with his perception
of the demise of the Dao in the world, the grand secretaries' celebration
of the word followed the flourishing of the empire, as well as their own
power and status. This was particularly true of their poetry, the so-called
grand secretariat style ( taige ti which would dominate literati
s"Ouyang wenzhonggong citang chongchuangji," quoted in Yokota

Terutoshi, "Meidai bungakuron no zenkai" [The Development of Literary Theories
in the Ming Dynasty], Hiroshima Daigaku bungakubu kiyo, supplement 1(1977),
55.
®Cited in ibid.
74
circles for several decades. The grand secretariat style was viewed as
the culmination of good government and good versification, the two
seen as naturally inseparable. According to the Great Preface of the
Shijing: "The tones of a well-governed age are peaceful and happy; its
government is harmonious. The tones of a chaotic age are resentful and
angry; its government is perverse."7 Under the guidance of the Three
Yangs, the empire witnessed unsurpassed heights of order and prosperity
and this was irrefutable evidence that their poetry, like their government,
was an expression of the moral fundament which so manifestly expressed
itself in the greatness of the age. Yang Shiqi described the theoretical
unity of poetry, government, and the Dao with Zhu Xi's favorite Confucian
text, the D axue. He claimed that poetry extended from the "nature,
emotions, speech and behavior" of the individual to the "Dao of cultivating
[the person], ordering [the family], governing [the empire], and bringing
peace [to the world]."8 For this reason, Du Fu was singled out by
Yang as the model poet who came closest to the Shijing. But in keeping
with the Great Preface, Yang's endorsement of Du Fu was less a recognition
of the inherent value of his poetry than a claim that in it one could see
the "flourishing government of the Tang."9 Thus Yang's homage to Du
Fu was really a homage to the illustrious Tang, and by claiming Du Fu
as his poetic counterpart he was also claiming the Ming worthy of
comparison. The self-conscious assertion that the Ming empire rivaled
translated in Steven Van Zoeren, Poetry and Personality: Reading, Exegesis,

and Hermeneutics in Traditional China (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1991),
95-6.
8Yang Shiqi, "Hu Tingping Shixu," quoted in Yokota Terutoshi, "Meidai
bungakuron no zenkai," 53.
’Ibid.
75
the glorious dynasties of the past not only sanctioned Yang's poetry, but
freed it from the limitations of following any particular past models,
whether the poetry of Du Fu or the ancients. "Each age has its poetry,"
Yang Shiqi claimed, and, echoing the Great Preface, that poetry "is
expressed and is the tones of a well-governed age."10 Yang Shiqi’s own
poetry was of course just such a "tone" and indeed we find others again
borrowing phrases from the Great Preface to describe it as such. For
example, it was "harmonious and elegant"
In contrast to the grand claims of the Three Yangs and their
contemporaries, later critics viewed this period as something of a literary
wasteland. The editors of the Official Ming History succinctly sum up
the literary style of the period as "increasingly flaccid."12 Yoshikawa
Kojiro calls literature during the tenure of the Three Yangs "moribund."13
Liu Dajie gives a condescending opinion of the grand secretariat style,
typifying the reaction of modem critics: "Those kind of works lacked
substantial content and vigor, and were for the most part m ild and
attractive social poetry lauding accomplishments and saluting virtue."14
A generous appraisal of the poetry of the Three Yangs is that it was a
10lbid., 55.
"Peng Shi, "Yang Wendinggong shiji xu," in Huang Zongxi, ed., Ming
wenhai [Ming Dynasty Sea of Literature], Vol. 3 (photo reprint; Beijing: Zhonghua
shuju, 1987), 260.13a.
12Zhang Tingyu, ed., Mingshi [The Official Ming History], 28 Vols. (Beijing:
Zhonghua shuju, 1987), Vol. 24, 7307. Translated in Andrew Plaks, The Four
Masterworks o f the Ming Novel (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987), 26.
13Kojiro Yoshikawa, Five Hundred Years o f Chinese Poetry 1150-1650,
John Timothy Wixted trans. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989), 122.
,4Liu Dajie, Zhongguo wenxuefada shi [The History of the Development of

Chinese Literature], Vol. 2 (Shanghai: Shanghai Guji chubanshe, 1982), 857.
76
complacent response to a world which offered no threats to the status
quo. A less generous one is that their poetics reflected their appeasement
and abandonment of moral principles for the sake of political expediency.
Despite the renown the Three Yangs received for their poetry and
their acknowledged literary predilections, poetry did not enjoy an
especially privileged status compared to other literary forms and continued
to be viewed as unequivocally inferior to the Classics. When Zhu
Gaozhi was still heir apparent he enjoyed learning about the methods
for poetry writing. Yang Shiqi admonished him, saying,"Your Highness
ought to concentrate on the Six Classics, and in your spare time read the
imperial edicts of the Han dynasty." Then, alluding to Zhu Xi's metaphor
of the tree, Yang continued, "Poetry is a minor branch not worthy of
attention."15 The poetry of the Three Yangs reflected the good government
of the age and the manifest presence of Dao in the world, but poetry was
not considered so much a vehicle for the purpose of cultivation on the
part of the writer or edification for the reader. The Classics remained
the indispensable source for attaining Dao. Indeed, to suggest otherwise
would only be a temptation to heterodoxy and undermine the textual
standards to which the dynasty owed its legitimation. In contrast, Wu
Yubi, though he had his own difficulties with the word and was especially
critical of poetry which was linked to officialdom, had a much greater
faith in the potential value of poetry. For him writing poetry was an
effective method for cultivating a mind imbued with Dao.
Where one stood on the disagreement over poetry as a source of
Dao or merely its reflection depended, at least in part, on one's political
lsMingshi, Vol. 14,4132.
77
position and judgement as to the moral state of the government. The
more the political center deteriorated, despite the ubiquitous presence of
the Classics via the state imposed education curriculum, the greater
literati (especially those who had less of a stake in proclaiming the
immanence of Dao in government) began to doubt the efficacy of the
word alone. Poetry became the exception, I think, because writing
poetry was not linked to the examination system and as the literary
genre of personal expression reflecting the "nature and emotions" of the
heroic author, it could be free of the taint of the pursuit of fame and
profit. I use the term heroic because for Wu Yubi, Hu Juren, and later
for Chen Xianzhang (1428-1500), the state of the world made
their poetry solitary moral protests in a sea of corruption. Their perception
of the necessity for the morally inspired individual to stand up and face
the corruption of the status quo made the personal expression of poetry
an alternative vehicle for carrying the Dao.
W ith the successful cover-up of the Yongle usurpation and a
prosperous dynasty spared from internal disorder and serious incursions
by Mongols on the northern border, literati were not compelled to question
the claims of the Three Yangs. The grand secretariat style became the
vogue as literati basked in the assurance that they were living in an age
of unprecedented greatness. The political situation began to deteriorate
during the Zhengtong reign (1436-49), however. The age of government
dominated by the Three Yangs came to a close, coinciding with renewed
Mongol threats on the northern border and the ascendancy of a nine-
year-old boy emperor to the throne. Zhu Qizhen's (r. 1436-49;
1457-64) extrem e youth made him especially susceptible to the
machinations of the eunuch Wang Zhen 3LW. (d. 1449) who was placed
78
in charge of him. From his position as the head of the Directorate of
Ceremonial Wang came to exercise increasing influence in court affairs,
neutralizing or killing his opponents. In an event of great practical and
symbolic importance, Wang Zhen ordered the removal of an iron tablet
inscribed with Zhu Yuanzhang's injunction that eunuchs never be allowed
to participate in politics.16 It was due to Wang's persuasion that Zhu
Qizhen decided personally to lead an army to chastise the Mongols.
The Ming dynasty's glory years ended abruptly in 1449 with a massive
defeat of the emperor's forces at Tumu. The empire was shaken by the
defeat and even more so by the news that the emperor himself had been
taken prisoner.
W ith the cream of the Ming army decimated, the capital left
vulnerable and poorly defended, some officials believed the court should
be moved to the safety of Nanjing far in the interior. The able and
respected vice-minister of war, Yu Qian (1398-1457), forcefully
rejected the idea and organized for the defense of the capital. In the
tenth lunar month the Mongolian army reached the capital to find Yu
had placed 220,000 soldiers outside the gates. They sued for negotiations
and were rebuffed. The Mongolians then attacked, but were unsuccessful
and retreated back through the northern passes. Yu Qian persuaded the
regent, Zhu Qiyu (r. 1450-57), to have Wang Zhen's allies executed. He
finally convinced Zhu Qiyu to ascend the throne himself, ushering in the
Jingtai reign. For a time the good government of the era of the Three
Yang's returned, even after Zhu Qizhen was released and subsequently
held prisoner by the new government in the capital.
,6L. Carrington Goodrich and Chaoying Fang, eds., D ictionary o f Ming

Biography (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), Vol. 2,1347-8.
79
The Tumu debacle understandably had a substantial shock effect
on scholar-officials. Hung-lam Chu argues that the defeat marked a
turning point in literati culture and encouraged literati to turn away from
state-sponsored learning and its rigid adherence to Song philosophical
doctrine and concentrate instead on practical affairs, especially in the
political realm.17 It is possible that the defeat had an invigorating effect
on officials in the capital, forging a united resolve to defend the capital
from the imminent Mongol onslaught. The failure of the Mongols to
take any walled cities during their incursion into Chinese territory may
have even been cause for some self-congratulation. The Tumu defeat
also conveniently unburdened the empire of both the emperor and Wang
Zhen who was killed during the battle, and due to this alone that the
subsequent Jingtai reign may have begun with a certain sense of optimism.
I believe that ultimately it was not the Tumu debacle which can
be seen as the turning point in Ming literati culture, but the eunuch-
controlled government of Wang Zhen, of which the Tumu defeat was
only the final degradation. While the defeat awakened literati to the
Ming's declining military posture, Wang Zhen's antics at court reminded
them that the political center was controlled by immoral men. The
sentiments expressed by the Song Daoxue scholar Hu Hong Wt’B. (1106-62)
was likely on the minds of many Ming literati in the wake of the Tumu
defeat:
When the Central Plain is without the Dao of the Central

Plain, the barbarians enter; when the Dao of the Central
Plain is restored, the barbarians return to their territory.18
17Hong-lam Chu, "Intellectual Trends in the Fifteenth Century." Ming Studies

27 (Spring 1989), 1-33.
80
It was the perceived absence of the Dao which especially roused idealistic
literati to become more politically active, not to resist the enemy without,
but the enemy within. Unfortunately, events in the wake of the Tumu
defeat turned out only to be an initial skirmish in a drawn out campaign
on the part of upright officials to combat immoral forces in the inner
court. Zhu Qizhen's return gave those disaffected with the new regime
an opportunity to gain power. A counter-coup which reinstalled Zhu
Qizhen on the throne in 1457 was engineered by Shi Heng E ? (d.
1460), who it is said ran afoul of Yu Qian because of Shi's tolerance of
corruption,19 and a protege of Wang Zhen, the eunuch Cao Jixiang Ufa
# (d. 1461). Shi and Cao had Yu Qian and others executed. Wang
Zhen was posthumously rehabilitated and given an ancestral hall in his
honor. The brief Jingtai reign was merely a respite in what seemed to
many literati as a corrupt court which would more or less continue to
degenerate for the next fifty years.
Chen Xianzhang and the Poetics of the Political Margin
One literatus present when news of the defeat at Tumu reached
18This quote is by the Song daoxue scholar Hu Hong (1100-1155) who

was writing at the time the area north of the Yangzte River had already fallen to the
Jurchens. Hu Hong, Huzi zhiyan [The Knowledgable Words of Master Hu], Aoyatang
congshu, Vols. 146), 6.1a. Translation by Conrad Shirokauer, "Chu Hsi's Political
Thought," Journal o f Chinese Philosophy 5.2: 127 (June 1978). Also cited in Hoyt
Cleveland Tillman, Confucian Discourse and Chu Hsi's Ascendancy (Honolulu:
University of Hawaii Press, 1992), 19-20; and Utilitarian Confucianism: Ch'en Liang's
Challenge to Chu Xi (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1982), 53.
l9Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,1202.
81
the capital was Chen Xianzhang. Chen had even less to feel optimistic
about as the national tragedy coincided with grave setbacks in his personal
career. He had failed the metropolitan examination the year before. It
was some consolation that he did well enough to enroll in the National
University. In 1451 he took the examinations again, failing for the
second time. Chen gave up trying to enter officialdom after this failure
and, apparently realizing the inconsistencies between the learning
demanded by the examinations and the learning of the sages, went to
study with the man who had a similar epiphany some forty years before—
Wu Yubi. Chen remained with Wu less than a year, however, evidently
dissatisfied with Wu's approach to learning. As Chen described it later,
although "there wasn't one book of the ancient sages' and worthies' lofty
teachings upon which [Wu] didn't lecture, I still didn't know the entrance
point."20 He thereupon returned to his home in Xinhui, a town in
Guangdong province about seventy miles south of Guangzhou, eventually
settling in the much smaller village of Baisha, about forty miles southeast
of the provincial capital. Wu Yubi's method of pursuing sagehood
nevertheless impressed Chen, as it did his other students. Wu's disciple
Lou Liang MW. (1422-91) followed his teacher by secluding himself
behind closed doors and writing a daily record just like W u did. Lou
Liang's son, Lou Chen ®tfc, spent ten years in the upper room of their
house studying the Classics. In his subsequent solitary pursuit of the
Way, Chen also followed Wu Yubi exhortations to his students and
mimicked Wu Yubi's own efforts to attain sagehood. After arriving
20Ruan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu [Chronological

Biography of Chen Xianzhang], in Chen Xianzhang j i [Chen Xianzhang's Collected
Works] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1987), Vol. 2,806.
82
home, Chen cloistered himself in a room for several years poring through
books, though he did not limit himself to the Classics of antiquity and
the orthodox works of later ages, but also read Buddhist and Daoist
texts, and even fiction. He read with such determination, again, similar
to W u Yubi, that he forgot to sleep.21
The results of reading, however, were disappointing and Chen
was unable to achieve the breakthrough he was searching for. In a
momentous decision, Chen broke irretrievably with the methods of his
form er teacher and decided to "discard superfluities and seek the
essential,"22 that is, he discarded all his books. Chen then built himself
a hut in which he did nothing but meditate for several years.
The accounts of Chen Xianzhang's eventual enlightenment written
by his disciples do not agree on how exactly it was attained. Chen
Xianzhang's premier disciple, Zhan Ruoshui (1466-1560), records
that Chen spent ten years practicing meditation in his hut before finally
achieving a breakthrough, culminating in his own complete understanding
of the moral and metaphysical issues of Daoxue. Another disciple, Lin
Guang (1469 j.s.) records that Chen was too strenuous in his efforts
at meditation and as a result almost had a mental illness.23 Chen's
disciple, Zhang Xu WM (1484j.s.), records that after several years of
meditation Chen still did not achieve what he was pursuing until he quit
his hut and went singing and whistling in the woods and fishing.24
21Zhang Yu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,

879.
22Ruan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, in ibid., 807.
“ Lin Guang, "Ji Baisha yu," Huang Zongxi, Mingru xuean [The Records of
Ming Scholars] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985), Vol. 1,104.
83
Chen's own description appears to fall somewhere in between meditation
and behaving in a carefree manner:
... I did nothing but meditate. After a time the substance of

my mind appeared from obscurity. In my daily intercourse,
I responded only to my desires, like a horse does bit and
bridle. Realizing the principles of things and investigating
the teachings of the various sages, I found each has its
source, like a stream having a spring.25
W hether or not meditation led to Chen's enlightenment is an

important issue when considering to what extent Chen's detractors were
justified in accusing him of embracing Buddhism. In fact, Zhan Ruoshui
ultimately discounted any role for meditation in Chen's teachings. Zhan
related a story of when he first went to study with Chen in 1494. Zhan
told Chen that he had had a dream in which an old man suggested that
he meditate in the mountains for 100 days. Chen replied "I'm afraid
you'll get sick." From this, Zhan claimed, he knew his master did not
like people to meditate.26 This may have been Chen's genuine reaction,
although it is unclear that he was registering his disapproval of meditation.
After all, it is hard to imagine anyone not falling ill after sitting in the
mountains for that long a period, whether they meditated or not. Zhan
“ Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,

881.
2SRuan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, in ibid., 807.

Huang Zongxi, "Wengong Chen Baisha xiansheng Xianzhang," Mingru xuean, Vol.
1,80.
“Zhan Ruoshui, "Ganquan yulu," Chen Xianzhang j i, Vol. 2,8 5 0 . A similar

version can be found in Qu Dajun, Guangdong xinyu [New Accounts from Guangdong]
(1680 photo rpt.; Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1968), 10.2b.
84
may have down-played the importance of meditation for Chen Xianzhang
in order to defend his teacher from the charge of Buddhism. More
likely, Zhan himself disapproved of meditation and on this point diverged
somewhat from his teacher. His enthusiasm for founding academies
and his later reliance on Chen's writings as pedagogical material indicate
Zhan's more mainstream, bookish inclinations.
One indication of the centrality of meditation for Chen Xianzhang
was his effort to defend an interest in meditation by claiming it was
favored by Song Daoxue scholars. Huang Zongxi has pointed out the
central role of "quiescence" (jing IS) in Chen's learning,27 and in a
letter to his friend Luo Lun Hfft (1431-78), Chen explicitly linked
quiescence with meditation, defending his views by pointing out that
Cheng Yi sighed with approval whenever he saw someone meditating.
The only reason Zhu Xi rarely used the term, according to Chen, was
that he feared people would fall into Chan B uddhism -a legitimate fear
it would seem -and so instead of using the term "quiescence," he used
its homophone, "reverence" (jing ?&). Besides, different times called for
different approaches to learning depending on the deficiencies of the
day. Zhu Xi's day was one time and this is another, Chen would
explain. Then many people were falling into heterodox doctrine, but
today the threat lies in people becoming mired in learning for profit.28
Chen Xianzhang's estimation of the value of meditation was related
to his inability to achieve the Dao through books and his failure to
27Huang Zongxi, "Wengong Chen Baisha xiansheng Xianzhang," Mingru

xuean, Vol. 1, 79.
“ Ruan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, Chen Xianzhang

ji, Vol. 2, 829.
85
achieve success in the literary-based civil service examinations. Unlike
W u Yubi, Chen did not refuse to take the examinations, and failed
twice. The degree to which his failure shaped the formation of his
anti-literary views can be gauged from his response to a subsequent
third failure to pass the examinations. To summarize briefly the events
that led up to this third failure: Chen emerged from his self-imposed
isolation and began teaching and attracting disciples to Baisha. In 1466
Chen suddenly returned to the capital and reentered the National
University. His motives for doing so are unclear. Some say he had to
make an expression of loyalty to the dynasty because he had his disciples
practice archery and this was viewed by some officials as a prelude to
rebellion. Other say that by returning to the capital Chen was only
fulfilling the wishes of his mother.29 In any event, accounts agree that
he returned to the capital relunctantly.
While in the capital, Chen’s talents came to the attention of the
chancellor of the National University, Xing Rang IfftH (1427-77).
Significantly, as we shall see, Chen's fame grew due to his poetry. Xing
Rang tested him by having him write a poem rhyming one by the eminent
Song Daoxue scholar Yang Shi !§B# (1053-1135).30 Xing Rang was so
pleased with the results that he declared Yang was not Chen's equal.
Chen was then given a post in the Bureau of Appointments in the
Ministry of Personnel where he began to attract idealistic young officials.
29See Ruan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, 809, and Zhang
Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 869.
x Chen Xianzhang j i Vol. 1, p. 279. The entire poem is translated by Jen

Yu-wen, "Ch'en Hsien-chang's Philosophy of the Natural," in Wm. Theodore de
Bary, ed., Self and Society in Ming Thought (New York: Columbia University
Press), 59.
86
In 1469 Chen took the examinations for the third time, but once again
failed to pass. Zhang Xu claims that Chen did not fail the examination,
but that his essays were destroyed.31 By whom it is never made clear,
but Zhang also records that a certain official said of Chen, "He wears a
licentiate's hat and excites people so, if he leaves retirement and enters
officialdom, then what will happen?" The unnamed official may have
been associated with the group of Northerners who Zhang says conspired
to thwart Chen. Significantly, Chen Xianzhang's reaction to this third
failure closely mimicked his actions after his previous inability to pass
the examinations: He immediately returned home, isolated himself behind
closed doors, refused all visitors, and "steeped his mind in the great
enterprise," meaning he meditated.32 It is reasonable to conclude that
Chen's failures in the examinations directly affected his choice to seek
reclusion, his disenchantment with book-reading, and his subsequent
turn to meditation.
Retreat from the Word
The one point upon which all the versions of Chen Xianzhang's
enlightenment experience agree is that it involved abandoning the written
word. W hatever the precise role of meditation in Chen's thought and
the degree of his non-conformity with more mainstream Confucian
practices, it remains that meditation was seen by Chen as an alternative
31Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 869-72.
32Ruan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, 809.
87
to the unsatisfactory practice of book-reading. In a letter to a friend,
Chen explicitly contrasts reading with meditation: "Reading books and
gaining broad knowledge are not as good as meditation."33 And, "For
learning, you must engage in quiet sitting.... You should not rely on
books alone."34 In his teachings, warnings of the danger of becoming
mired in words was a common theme. At times, he borrowed the
anti-guw en stance and rhetoric of Song Daoxue in order to dissuade
students from concentrating on the word and reversing the order of
learning, for he feared that "students would become obstructed by language
and practice the branch."35 In a preface to the Daoxue zhuan
[Biographies of Daoxue Scholars], written by an acquaintance, Chen
Fangbo, Chen warns students how not to read books:
This volume collects the recorded words and deeds of various

Confucians. If students not only seek in books but seek in
their minds, search the incipiencies of movement and rest,
being and non-being, completely cultivate that which is
within themselves and don't disturb it with looking and
listening, discard the distractions of sight and sound, be
entirely vacuous, all-encompassing, unfathomable spirit,
than as soon as they open a book they will completely
attain it. It is not from books that one acquires it, but from
oneself.36
It may sound contradictory for Chen to convey such an anti-literary
33Huang Zongxi, "Wengong Chen Baisha xiansheng Xianzhang," 83.

“ Jen Yu-wen, "Ch'en Hsien-chang's Philosophy of the Natural," 79.
3SZhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 880.

“ "Daoxue zhuan xu," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol 1,20.
88
message in preface to a book. I do not think it would have appeared so
to Chen, however, because he believed his ideas were in harmony with
Song Daoxue thinkers. Chen Xiamzhang displays an ambivalence toward
the written word emblematic of Song Daoxue. The literal word itself,
by itself, cannot be the source of the Dao, and yet the words of the
Classics are connected to the Dao if they are read in the proper manner.
In this preface in fact, Chen sounds strikingly similar to Zhu Xu when
the latter claims that a reader must have an "empty mind" and basically
have already attained moral principle before commencing to read. Once
reading is initiated, both men sanction concentrating not on the words as
much as their intangible significance, their larger principles or "flavor."
Also from the same preface, Chen writes, "If students only recite their
words and forget the flavor, then the Six Classics are nothing but dregs."
This line is reminiscent of Cheng Hao who, as we recall, "never explicated
sentences or paragraphs, but only chanted them aloud, sampling their
flavor in a carefree manner."37 Elsewhere we find Chen Xianzhang in
complete agreement with Song Daoxue scholars as to what should and
should not be emphasized in order to attain meaning. Chen too says,
"While reading, never be tied down to sentences or paragraphs."38 Like
Zhu Xi and the Cheng brothers, Chen also rejected the type of reading
associated with the Han scholiasts which focused on the literal meaning
of the word. A t one point Chen even defended his lack of literary
output, making a loose poetic comparison between Han scholiasts and
37Herum Chengshi waishu [Alternate Works of the Cheng Brothers]. Ercheng

j i [Collected Works of the Two Chengs], Vol. 2. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1981,
12.425.
38"Ti Liang xiansheng yunge," Chen Xianzhang j i, Vol. 1,323.
89
writing in general:
Don't laugh at this lazy old man who doesn't write,

Zheng Xuan $fS£ (127-200) was not a genuine Confucian39
Chen did not write much because, I think, he ultimately put much less
emphasis on the word than Zhu Xi. In the words of another commentator,
"he did not engage in writing and desired to return to wordlessness."40
Chen not only believed that writing is largely useless, but that it also
reduced one's mental energies. This is made clear in these lines from
one of Chen's poems:
Officials labor over their books, tired and frustrated;

Literary men wield their brushes, depleting mind and spirit
in composition.
I alone have nothing to do, meditating I forget dusk and
dawn.41
It is significant that according to Chen reading and w riting-at least in

the forms most commonly practiced-led to mental dissipation. At
other times Chen was even more explicit: "Written characters drain
spiritual energy" (yvenzi fe i jingshen Here the psycho
physical threat posed by over-concentration on the word encountered by
Wu Yubi is repeated, though expanded somewhat to include writing as
well as reading. If Chen's insistence on such a decisive break with the
39Zhang Xu, "wen ji," Mingruxuean, Vol. 1,93.
““QuDajun, Guangdong xinyu, 10.1b.

41"Lama Xuanzhen kanshan," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2, p. 736.
42"Zeng shiqing," ibid., Vol 1,300.
90
well as reading. If Chen's insistence on such a decisive break with the
written word appears more radical than his predecessors, it is because he
found the text even less effective for moral cultivation and the word
even farther removed from the moral fundament. Again this was true in
the context of his own experience, but he also thought the word lacked
positive moral power in an age when the court had clearly lost the Dao,
officials were all concerned with profit, and classical studies were just a
means to obtain office. This perspective of course came more naturally
to Chen after his examination failures and years of self-imposed exile on
the political margins.
Chen's much more pessimistic assessment of the value of the
word for conveying the Dao or the wisdom of the sages can be found in
his reinscription of Zhu Xi's analogy of the tree in which the root stood
for morality and the branches for literature. According to Chen, "morality
is rich and fertile [soil]" and "literary words (w enci 5cI?) are chaff"
which is discarded once the kernels of grain are harvested.43 Chen
replaces Zhu's root-branch analogy with one which makes literature not
an expression of the Dao but a superfluous by-product. Elsewhere we
find confirmation of Chen's more radical rejection of the value of the
written word which goes beyond Song Daoxue. For instance, he said
that only after one "forgets language (yanyu mWd and moves beyond
form can the profundity of the sages and worthies be attained."44 Reading,
in fact, only seems to interfere with the process of transmission. This
distrust of the efficacy of language to convey profundity remained a
““ "He Yang Guishan ciri buxzaide yun," ibid., V ol.l, 279.

“^Zhan Roshui, "Lun Baishazi," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,892.
91
dominant concern for Chen his entire life. On his deathbed he wrote a
poem with the following lines.
The many sages and worthies past and present,

In their minds all united in the mental transmission
Mengzi's wisdom returns to Mengzi,
From this day forward, do not believe the words of men.45
The stature of Mengzi in the orthodox Song Daoxue pantheon remains

unaltered for Chen, but the value of the Mengzi appears radically
diminished. Only the mind of Mengzi retains his wisdom, not the words
he spoke or wrote. One cannot hope to access his wisdom by reading
the Mengzi, but only by directly accessing Mengzi's mind or the great
genealogy of mental transmissions which Mengzi had also accessed and
which his mind was also a part. The Mengzi was a product of Mengzi's
mind, but to use the Mengzi in order to cultivate that mind is analogous
to using chaff to attempt to cultivate grain.
After emerging from his second isolation, Chen continued to pass
his wisdom on to others and rapidly became a teacher of great renown
who attracted a large number of gifted disciples. To accommodate the
increasing number of students who flocked to hear his teachings, Chen
built a lecture hall in Baisha, the "Fishing Platform," and in effect
established his own private academy. Unlike Wu Yubi's premier disciple,
Hu Juren, who followed the example of his teacher and did not take the
civil service examinations, Chen's students not only participated in the
examinations but attained high political office as well. Liang Chu iiftt
(1451-1527), a student and fellow Cantonese, was the top graduate in
45Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 881.
92
the metropolitan examination of 1478 and went all the way to become
senior grand secretary in 1515. Chen's premier disciple, Zhan Ruoshui
received the jin sh i in 1505, eventually rising to a succession of high
posts.46 Nevertheless, in practice Chen's pedagogy appeared to have
mirrored his mistrust of the word. He rejected a reliance on the writings
of the sages and instead encouraged students to do as he did and attain it
from themselves. Zhang Xu sums up Chen's career as a teacher saying
he "for the most part instructed people with a wordless teaching (wuyan
zhi jiao M m ZM )-"41 Lin Guang says that when instructing others Chen
would first have them practice meditation in order to "cultivate innate
moral sensibilities" (yang shanduan 48 W hen he was asked
about learning by someone in the capital, Chen said, "I don't have anything
with which to teach people" and instead pointed to the example of Dian
in the Lunyu as a model for those who would engage in learning. Dian
was the disciple who preferred to go singing and bathing in the river
instead of engaging in the practice of government, strikingly similar, by
the way, to the accounts of Chen's behavior subsequent to his
enlightenment. It seems in fact that Chen often took walks with students
and chatted with them in a carefree manner instead of relying on texts,
lectures and the like. One of his disciples, Li Chengji (1486j.r.) studied
with Chen for two years. During that time he and his teacher spent their
days climbing mountains, chatting nostalgically about the ancients, writing
‘“It is said that Zhan decided to take the examinations only to please his
mother (Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 1,36). This may well have been the
case. Zhan did not take the examinations until after Chen Xianzhang died, receiving
the jinshi when he was over forty years old.
47Zhang Xu, "wen ji," 95.
‘“Lin Guang, "Ji Baisha yu," 105.
93
poetry, practicing calligraphy, drinking and playing games, and yet not
once did Chen ever talk about the weighty matters of antiquity and the
present preserved in books. And yet in this way Li finally reached
understanding.49 His unorthodox pedagogical style may have been part
of the reason that Chen refused the directorship of White Deer Academy
in 1481. His decision may have also been influenced by the fact that Hu
Juren was headmaster of the academy on two separate occasions,50 for
Hu was publicly critical of Chen, charging him with promoting Buddhist
heterodoxy.51 If in fact Chen objected to the textual orientation of
private academies like the White Deer Academy, this bias was much
less pronounced in his disciple Zhan Ruoshui who would be remembered
for his extraordinary patronage of private academies and, as John Meskill
has pointed out, shares with Chen Xianzhang and Wang Yangming the
distinction of being one of the three most influential men in the rise of
the academy movement.
The Quest for Acceptable Language
Chen Xianzhang's pessimistic view of the value of words was in a
^Mingshi, Vol. 24,7262; Huang Zongxi, "Juren Li Daya xiansheng Chengji,"

Mingru xuean, 92.
50 Julia Ching, The Records o f Ming Scholars (Honolulu: University of

Hawaii Press, 1987), 80, note 3.
slHuang Zongxi, "Wenjing Hu Jingzhai xiansheng Juren," Mingru xuean,
30; The Records o f Ming Scholars, 78; See, for example, Hu Juren, Juye lu [Record
of Abiding in Wariness] (Congshu jicheng, Vols. 656-67), 7.83. Jen Yu-wen cites
his refusal to be headmaster of Bailu as evidence of turning from Zhu Xi. Jen,
"Ch'en Hsien-chang's Philosophy of the Natural," 61-2.
94
sense made possible by his great faith in the mind to access the non-verbal
mental transmission of the sages. It was certainly fortuitous, and perhaps
purposeful, that Chen did not see the value in philosophical speculations
of the kind favored by Song Daoxue literati, for it saved him from the
//-^'/good-evil conundrums which plagued Zhu Xi's theory of mind.
We recall that Chen's epiphany involved realizing that the teachings of
the sages had a source like a stream having a spring. The spring for
Chen was a metaphor for the mind. Chen even coined the term "mind
spring" H , connoting the capability of mind to act as the original source
of wisdom and morality which the ancient sages themselves tapped. In

a poem presented to Education Commissioner Hu Xiren, Chen elaborates
on the mind spring:
The ancients cast away the chaff; chaff is not the true
transmission
How subtle! A spoonful of water accumulates becoming a
large stream
Yet there is no accumulation, the spring bubbles up by
itself
Reaching non-being is utmost activity, reaching what is
nearest is most spiritual
Its operation is never exhausted, stored in the spring of
utmost depth
If I can grasp its origin, why must I peer into old books?
In establishing the root, value spontaneity (ziran g ^ ) . 52
Once again, Chen's willingness to do away with the word entirely is

apparent here. The Classics, it appears, have been completely replaced
by a reliance on mind alone. The suggestion that the written word,
S2"Da Zhang neihan Tingxiang shu kuo er cheng shi cheng Hu tixue," Chen
Xianzhang j i, Vol. 1,311.
95
specifically the Classics, be unceremoniously tossed aside was anathema
to most Confucians. Most interesting, Chen's more radical views were
not even accepted by his own disciples. Zhan Ruoshui comments on
this poem are a case in point, and interesting in themselves because they
focus on the problem of language at several junctures. Here is an
excerpt from his lengthy discussion:
The Classics lodge the essential intentions of the sages, and

"chaff" is speaking about those who recite them and forget
the flavor.... [The poem] uses the expression "chaff" from
Shu Bian [the wheelwright in the Zhuangzi]. By saying
that the ancients considered the Classics to be chaff, it means
that recitation and forgetting the flavor is not the true
transm ission.... The subtlety of the sages' learning and
mental acquisition does not come from accumulation. It is
like the flowing of a spring, bubbling up by itself without
c ease.... The ancients read books only to activate
intelligence. [Reading books] cannot apprehend this mind.
Yet the Classics say, "If one studies the ancient glosses
[then there will be attainment]."53 This statement is correct.
[It is just that Chen] also talked about it in terms of "reciting
the words and forgetting the flavor." Using the mind to
apprehend [in this way] is also called "succumbing to the
illness of sentences and paragraphs."54
Zhan Ruoshui encounters some distress in his explication, indicated by

his opening line in which the reader is reminded of the inestimable
value of the Classics lest one get the wrong idea from reading the poem
on his own. For Zhan the caveat is necessary because he admits that
53Shangshu zhengyi, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu Vol. 1 (Beijing:

Zhonghua shuju, 1979), 13.63c.
^ h a n Ruoshui, Baishazi gushi jia o jie [Master Baisha's Teachings through
Ancient Poetry, Explained], Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,710.
96
his teacher was citing the Zhuangzi in which "chaff" unmistakably refers
to the "words of the sages," not an incorrect method of reading. According
to Zhan's explanation, the Classics become as good as chaff when read
in a way that only responds to the surface words and not to the deeper
meaning. True, Chen complained about this kind of reading on other
occasions, but Zhan's use of this interpretation in this context is forced.
It certainly does not correspond to the story in the Zhuangzi. There,
Bian the wheelwright tells Duke Huan that the words of the sages he is
reading are nothing but chaff, not because the duke is reading them
incorrectly, but because the wisdom of the sages, just like the knowledge
of how to fashion a wheel, "cannot be put into words."55 In any case,
according to the poem it is the ancients themselves who discarded the
chaff and it is hardly possible that they suffered from the inability to
read them correctly. Zhan even inserts the claim that reading "activates
intelligence" and thus implying it is fundamental to the learning process
and cannot be discarded. In an even further departure from the poem,
Zhan cites the Shujing to the effect that etymological analysis of the
characters in the Classics must also be studied. Again this appears to
diverge widely from the poem and from Chen's teachings. It is rather
obvious that Chen's point is that the ancients did not rely on books
because they found the non-verbal font of wisdom within their own
minds. Zhan evidently was unwilling to accept the logical implication
that all people ought to put aside the Classics and rely on their own
minds instead, and his explication, whether intentional or not, is more a
rebuttal to the poem than a clarification.
55Zhuangzi, "Tiandao," Zhuangzi yinde (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1988),

36/14/70.
97
Zhan's desire to recast the written word in Chen's teachings in a
more positive light likely stems from the same motivation which informed
his devaluation of meditation. We have mentioned Zhan's defense of
his master from the charge of Buddhism, but most likely, it seems to
me, Zhan's more conservative orientation was necessary in order to be
consistent with his later role as a teacher in his own right. The tension
Zhan likely encountered between his roles as disciple and teacher may
be traced to the institutionalization of Chen's doctrine as part of the
curriculum in the scores of private academies he founded. In order to
attract students in any significant numbers and also to fulfill the ideal of
placing moral men in office, the curriculum had to be centered on study
of the Classics and de facto examination preparation.
Significantly, Chen Xianzhang himself had to make adjustments
concerning the status of the word due to encountering a similar tension
between his roles as a practitioner and a pedagogue. Chen tells us that
the ideas in the poem he wrote for Hu Xiren above were originally
expressed in a letter he wrote to the Hanlin academician Zhang Yuanzhen
3lt7t;31 (1460 j.s.). In the letter, Chen distinguishes two kinds of learning:
one that is cumulative and can be transmitted by words (yan if), and
one that is not cumulative and cannot be transmitted by words. Given
that the mind spring is the moral source, accessing the non-verbal
transmission would not present a problem for Chen; given the capabilities
of mind, the transmission is a priori completed. Chen says as much in
his letter where he claims "the Dao is within me." So for those who are
good at it, continues Chen, pursuing the Dao is "easy." The problem
that still remains for Chen, however, is how to speak about Dao, that is
if one feels it is a subject necessary to talk about, which he evidently
98
does. After all he is writing to Zhang Yuanzhen with the express
purpose of enlightening him. In contrast to personally pursuing the Dao,
Chen complains, talking about the tasks of comprehending and preserving
meanings and principles is not easy. Having said this, Chen goes on to
discover a solution to the conundrum of how to verbalize the Dao and in
doing so makes a claim about the acceptability of certain language: "If I
attain it [Dao] from myself and then speak about it from myself, it is
acceptable."56 Chen says this was the solution discovered by Kongzi
himself. Kongzi said, "I wish to be wordless" (wu yu wuyan
Chen pointed out, however, that "wordless" itself is a word, it is, as he
says, "writing" (zhushu HM1). Nevertheless it is acceptable because the
words "wordless" is "transcendently realized and self-acquired" (chaowu
zide IMfggf#).57
Chen Xianzhang’s dilemma can be seen as a Confucian version of
the classic tension in Chan Buddhism between pedagogy and soteriology,
in which the Buddha as teacher had somehow to convey a path to
enlightenment which was by definition beyond all utterance. His solution,
or at least one version of the solution, was silently to raise his fly-whisk.
Chen, however, could not remain silent, evidently believing Kongzi's
correlate maxim that "moral men must speak." Kongzi's words had
particular force given the degeneration of the age and the imperative for
regaining the Dao in the world. Chen Xianzhang's pursuit of the Dao
was founded on a distrust of language while his need to talk about it
entailed an opposite faith of equal intensity in what he conceived to be
56,1Fu Zhang Dongbai neihan," Chen Xianzhang j i, Vol. 1,131.
^ZhangXu, "wenji,"95.
99
language which was "self-acquired."
There is an anecdote which may serve as an illustrative example
of Chen's desire to teach his students that learning and language must be
self-acquired. In a dialogue with his disciple, Chen says:
I say "no," and you also say "no." I say "yes," and you
also say "yes." If "yes" and "no" come from me, then
how can they be in you?58
W e can see here that "zide" for Chen Xianzhang means "acquired from
oneself." The source is internal. This is the only dialogue I have found
in which Chen gives a concrete example of what he means by zide, and
so it is noteworthy that he uses words which unambiguously refer to
language. This is an indication, I think, that it was language which
posed difficulties for Chen, not only as a practitioner, but also as a
teacher who strove to insure that his students acquired from themselves.
He could easily argue that morality had an internal source. This had
been established by Song Daoxue theory, but what of the word "morality"?
In a sense, Chen inadvertently highlights exactly the point of tension in
his doctrine by his use of "yes" and "no" as examples. These words
have no meaning by themselves, but only in the context of a dialogue
with another, obviously exterior, person. It is therefore difficult to see
then how they could be, to use Chen's terminology, "so-of-themselves"
(ziran g#S), a notion we will explore further in the next section. Had
Chen used "morality" instead, however, the difficulty would come from
the ready recognition that morality and the word "morality" were quite
^Huang Zongxi, "Zhoutong Chen Bingchang xiansheng Shengyong," Mingru

xuean, 105.
100
different. This recognition was useful and necessary when predicating
Chen's attack on the word's inability to convey. The argument that
language should be self-acquired, however, implied an identification
between the word and the virtue which was normally seen as its source.
Theoretical difficulties aside, Chen Xianzhang needed language
which was acquired from the self and therefore "acceptable," a language
which sprang from the same source as man’s moral nature and was an
expression of the mind-spring. For Chen, this language was poetry.
The A rgum ent fo r Poetic Language
Poetic language was the exception in Chen Xianzhang's otherwise

negative appraisal of the capability of language to reflect or transmit the
moral fundament. Its status was unique for Chen because he believed
poetry, at least his poetry, was an unmediated expression of the mind
from whose depths freely gushed the Dao. Zhan Ruoshui described this
capability of directly expressing the mind by calling poetry the "voice of
the mind" jO;Z@.59 He described Chen Xianzhang's poetry this way:
His spontaneous spoken and written words arise from his

spontaneous mind and breast; his spontaneous mind and
breast arise from spontaneous learning; spontaneous learning
consists in [Mengzi's] "neither forgetting nor assisting,"0
“ Zhan Ruoshui, "Jingxuan gutishi zixu," quoted in Jian Jinsong, M ingdai

wenxue piping yanjiu, 214. Benjamin Elman has pointed out to me that the phrase
"voice of the mind" appeared in the optimus examination in the first palace examination
o f the Ming dynasty.
60Mengzi zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu Vol. 2 , 3a.21c.
101
just like the shining of the sun, the drifting of clouds, the
flowing of water, and the blooming of heaven's flowers.
The red are red of themselves, the white are white of
themselves, forms are formed of themselves, colors are
colored of themselves. Who arranges this? W ho creates
this? This is called "so-of-itself."61
"Spontaneous" (ziran) is perhaps more literally translated as "so-of-itself,"

as I have done in the last line. It is closely related to "attained from
o neself (zide), the key provision which in Chen Xianzhang's view makes
his words about Dao acceptable. Both refer to a complete reliance on
the self and the rejection of any need for a source of or assistance
beyond the self. Just like the sun that shines by and of itself, the mind
in its optimum operation does not depend on any exterior stimulation.
W hen the mind is merely "so-of-itself" it has the natural ability to
"apprehend from itself" and access the Dao which, according to the
Daodejing at least, is also ziran. In this same essay, Zhan defines ziran
as the "moral principles of Heaven."
As a theory of mind, this is largely in accord with the Mencian
conception of innate moral ability and Daoxue philosophy. Cheng Yi
claimed that "moral principles are something that must be zide,"62 and
that the cultural creations of the sages, like rites and music, were perfect
because they apprehended what was z ir a n 62 Cheng Yi would never
make such a claim for the degenerate cultural forms in the present age,
61Zhan Ruoshui, "Chongke Baisha xiansheng quanji xu," Chen Xianzhang ji,
Vol. 2,896.
“ Quoted in Peter K. Bo], This Culture o f Ours: Intellectual Transitions in

Tang and Sung China (Stanford: Stanford Universiy Press, 1992), 317.
“ Quoted in ibid, 306.
102
however. He would argue that only moral principles were ziran and
could be zide. Zhan's claim that Chen's language is zide is unprecedented.
W e should also contrast Chen's view of literary creation with that of Su
Shi (1036-1101), for Su used the same natural analogy of the
spring to describe his literature: "My literature is like a spring with a
ten-thousand gallon flow." The similarity stops here though. Su continues
by saying that the river which is formed by the spring rushes on twisting
and turning—"it takes shape according to the things encountered." Here
Su is speaking in a tradition of poetic theory dominant since Liu Xie's gij
^ (12th cent.) Wenxin diaolong jtL 'S tll [The Literary Mind and the
Carving of Dragons] in which poetry is the response of emotions to
things.64 It is the "things encountered" which are absent in Zhan's
version of Chen's poetic doctrine, and thus any role for the emotive
faculties as they respond to things. The absence o f exterior stimulation
is exactly what allowed his language to be so-of-itself. We should also
recall that it was the emotive faculty of the mind in its response to
things which was the source of selfish desires, and hence evil, in Song
Daoxue. Thus Chen's spring as an entirely internal source removed the
evil which plagued the mind for Zhu Xi, and with it removed for Chen
the potential that this kind of language not convey the Dao.
As with many of Chen's other views, Zhan Ruoshui describes
Chen's poetics in ways which ameliorate internal contradictions. The
question of whether poetry was the product of emotions and their responses
to the world or spontaneously flowed from an inner source complete
and so-of-itself was never entirely resolved for Chen, as will become
64 See Liu Xie, "Ming shi,"Wenxin Diaolong [The Literary Mind and the
Carving of Dragons] (Sibu congkan, ser. 1, Vol. 2070), 6.1a.
103
clear below. Chen's longest discussion of poetry is found in his preface
for a collection of poems written by his friend and fellow Cantonese
Zhu Ying (1445 j.s.). It is a curious document which details two
different, perhaps even contradictory, views of poetry. The preface
begins with Chen in apparent agreement with the conventional notion
that poetry is the expression of the emotions which have been stirred as
a consequence of interaction with things. As a consequence poetic
voice can take many forms depending on the changes in emotion, etc..
From his correspondence we discover that in poetry Chen stressed the
primacy of "personal nature and emotion" (xingqing 14'ft), seeing it as
the determinant of style and quality.65 By the end of the preface Chen
challenges the conventional view, held for instance by Yang Shiqi, that
poetry is a "minor branch" of learning. Yet to make his argument
persuasive, however, Chen cannot retain the view that poetry is born
from the everyday emotions common to all people. Instead he must
argue that poetry, at least potentially, transcends the common and is
intimately tied to the great enterprise of Daoxue. The final part of the
preface reads:
Heaven is the perfection of Dao. Words which reach to

Heaven are called perfected words. People who reach to
Heaven are called perfected people. There must be perfected
people to be able to establish perfected words. [Kings]
Yao, Shun, [the Duke of] Zhou, and Kongzi were all perfect.
After these were the great Confucians Yen [Hui] and Mengzi.
The great Confucians of the Song were Zhou [Dunyi], the
Cheng [brothers], Zhang [Zai], and Zhu [Xi]. Their words
are all preserved, and in many instances are expressed in
poetry.... Poetry: in the hands of the small it is small; in
“ "Yu Wangtixue," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 1,203.
104
the hands of the great it is great. It can move heaven-and-
earth, stir ghosts and spirits, harmonize higher and lower,
and reach the birds and the beasts. Within it the four seasons
revolve and the hundred things are born. Judgements on
emperors and despots, and the appraisals of snow, moon,
wind, and flowers are but the same. Can one call it a minor
branch?66
Again Chen makes his argument from the point of language. The words
and poetry of great men reach to heaven and therefore are also the
epitome of perfection and share the qualities of Dao. The affective
sensibility of the perfected men encountering the mundane world is not
mentioned. Instead it is the world which is affected by the poetry of
great men. Like his achievements in learning which were gained only
by literally locking out the world, Chen advocates the same method for
poetry writing: "Pursue it [poetry] in yourself. Do not get mired in
seeing and listening."67 Thus poetry writing is concomitant with learning:
when "the great root is established" and one "sees moral principle,"
there will naturally be literary achievement.68
The turn in Chen's argument from the affective nature of the
world to the affective nature of the poem is reflective of his desire to
teach and speak about the Dao to others through his own poetry. The
desire to teach others, to speak, was also especially strong in Zhan
Ruoshui. After Chen's death, Zhan Ruoshui inherited the Fishing Platform.
He also went on to found other academies, mostly in his home province
o f Guangdong, ultimately numbering thirty-six, all dedicated to Chen
“ "Renzhenzi shiji xu," ibid., 5.
67"Yu Wangtixue," ibid., 203.
“ Chen Xianzhang, "Tiba," Mingru xuean, 88-89
105
Xianzhang.69 Zhan needed to insure that students continued to be guided
by Chen Xianzhang's teachings, yet as his disciple Zhan was very much
aware of the inadequacies and dangers of language. Zhan found the
solution, as Chen did, in poetry, and edited a collection of his teacher's
most pedagogical, or one could say most philosophical, poems, Baisha
xiansheng gushi jiao jie [Master Baisha's Teachings
through Ancient Poetry, Explained].
To cite an example of a poem with clear pedagogical intent, we
may look at one Chen wrote for his disciple. "Shi Zhan Yu"
[Instruction to Zhan Yu (Ruoshui)] is a poem which Zhan himself later
included in Baisha xiansheng gushi jiao jie. Zhan says Chen presented
him the poem in order to "deeply clarify orthodox learning and elucidate
the errors of Buddhism":
Having learning is like not having learning,

Having awareness is like not having awareness.
A thousand pieces of gold is a single gourd,
Ten-thousand pieces of gold is a single "Yes."
In holding fast to the sages' prescriptions,
First there is difficulty and later attainment.
The decree of Heaven flows,
Genuine incipiency is alive.
The water arrives, the dike is finished,
the hawk flies, the fish jumps.
Deshan has no staff,
Linqi doesn't drink.
Ten-thousand transformations so-of-themselves,
How can the Great Vacuity speak?
Embroidered silk all of a single hand
Who works the golden needle?70
69John Meskill, Academies in Ming China: A H istorical Essay (Tucson:

University of Arizona, 1982), 68-69.
106
In order to speak about that which cannot be truly spoken, a fact referred
to in the line "How can the great vacuity speak?", Chen employs various
devices. The language is often circuitous, at times sounding decidedly
gongan-like in an apparent attempt to transcend the limitations of language
and at once serving as a reminder to the literal-minded reader that one
should avoid becoming mired in words. According to Zhan Ruoshui, it
was vital that one reads Chen's poetry in a way that captures transcendent
meaning:
To pursue the master's poetic writings, one ought to pursue

the Dao of the master in the intentions outside of spoken
words (yan) and unify them with the ancient prescriptions.
One ought not to pursue it among the master's spoken and
written words.
If we must look outside the words, then we cannot read the poem
literally. The opening lines of the poem, "Having learning is like not
having leaming/Having awareness is like not having awareness" are the
best example of words which defy a conventional reading. In fact my
translation already carries with it the interpretation provided by Zhan
Ruoshui in his comments. A character-by-character translation without
any injected interpretation would read like this: "Have learning, not
have learning/Have awareness, not have awareness." Especially
reminiscent of Chan rhetoric,71 these lines appear to defy a literal reading
70The text of the poem as well as Zhan Ruoshui's explanations are in Baisliazi
gushi jiao jie , 703.
71In another poem, Chen Xianzhang writes: "Chan language is like poetic
language" (shiyu ru foyu). "Ciyun Zhang Donghai," in Huang Guilan, Baisha xueshuo
j i qi shi zhi yanjiu [A Study of the Thought and Poetry of Chen Xianzhang] (Taibei,
107
and subsequent mundane linguistic understanding.
In place of direct description, Chen often uses analogies, for instance
like the two Chan monks Deshan and Linqi who we know, thanks again
to Zhan's commentary, were known for teaching their students with a
staff and through drinking water - a reference to wordless teachings.
Yet again a straight-forward use of the analogy is subverted. Deshan
does not have his staff and Linqi is not drinking. (Zhan Ruoshui maintains
that Chen is being critical of Buddhism here, a conclusion I find
doubtful.72) Metaphors also abound in the poem, some vaguer than
others, but presented in a way that makes it almost certainly impossible
to gather them together in one overarching metaphorical intention. (Zhan
Ruoshui solves one of the puzzles for us by explaining that "the golden
needle" is a metaphor for "mind".) Metaphors are of course the clearest
example of language that the reader cannot afford to read literally and
whose meanings must instead be pursued outside of the word itself. It is
somewhat ironic in this regard that Zhan Ruoshui matches up for us the
metaphors with other words, like "mind," which doubtless we are meant
to read literally. One cannot help but wonder if Zhan ever had a precocious
student who, upon being told that Chen's Dao transcends language and
therefore that he should not read his poems literally, asked, "But then
how are we supposed to read your explanations Mr. Zhan?"
Returning to the poem, on a decidedly more straight-forward level,
in contrast, Chen cites well-known lines from the Classics whose meanings
have been well-established by the textual tradition ("the hawk flies, the
fish jumps" is from the Shijing73) and also mouths bland platitudes that
Wenshizhe chubanshe, 1981), 114.
nBaishazi gushi jiao jie , 703.
108
couldn't possibly offend the most conservative Confucian or confuse the
most doltish reader ("In holding fast to the sages prescriptions, first
there is difficulty and later attainment"). One of the hallmarks of Chen
Xianzhang's poetry is his frequent incorporation of vocabulary favored
by Song Daoxue scholars ("alive" huopo rS i! is found in the recorded
conversations of Cheng Yi and classical commentaries by Zhu Xi), and
even more obvious, philosophical and metaphysical concepts which are
central to Daoxue and familiar to all. In this poem we find "the decree
of Heaven" and the "Great Vacuity." In other poems we find references
to the "Great Ultimate" ( taiji) and "moral principle" (//). The incorporation
of Daoxue vocabulary and rhetoric is particularly relevant because they
mark the most visible traces of Chen's conscious effort to convey the
Dao, an effort which earned him the epitaph "patriarch of Daoxue
poetry."74
Com m on Language
Chen Xianzhang's use of Daoxue vocabulary, metaphor, Chan-like

locutions, and banal homilies all together indicate some distress. Chen’s
wild stylistic inconsistencies exhibit a tension between a pedagogical
intent to convey the Dao and the effort to achieve spontaneous language
which was the unmediated expression of the depths of the mind. Poems
with an overwhelmingly pedagogical intent like "Shi Zhan Yu" appear
?3Maoshi zhengyi, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu Vol. 1 ,1 6 .247c-248a.

74Qian Qianyi, Liechao shiji xiaozhuan [Biographies of Ming Dynasty Poets]
(Taibei: Shijie shuju, 1965), 265.
109
less eligible to qualify as spontaneous. As poetry whose concern is its
own affective power, and simultaneously reducing the affective power
of the world and the response of the emotions, it also runs counter to
traditional Chinese conceptions of ziran. According to Liu Xie, the
creative poetic act as the author's emotional response to the world was
ziran?5 The familiar formula of exterior landscape and poet's response
is absent in Chen's pedagogical poetry.
Chen Xianzhang was to some degree aware of the tension between
pedagogy and spontaneity, in part explaining why his poems are
stylistically jumbled and a curious admixture of relatively unadorned
classical language and intermittent colloquialisms. The late Ming- early
Qing critic Qian Qianyi (1582-1664) said of Chen's poetry that
he "used poetry to discourse on learning, and inserted impromptu
rem arks... similar to recorded conversations (yulu IgiQ ."76 The editors
o f the Siku quanshu express a similar judgement: "Sometimes coarse
words and vulgar expressions rush out of his mouth, sometimes marvelous
meanings and subtle words respond to the incipiency and are expressed."77
I suggest that the coarse words, vulgar expressions, and impromptu
remarks gave Chen's poetry an aura of spontaneity and lack of effort,
consistent with his characterization of the acceptable kind of language
which flowed spring-like from the mind.
Chen's efforts at spontaneity were also his attempt to escape the
75 See Liu Xie, "Ming shi," 78-79
76Qian Qianyi, Liechao shiji xiaozhuan, 264.

^"Baishaji," Ji Yun, et al. comp., Siku quanshu zongmu [Catalogue o f the
Complete Collection of the Four Treasuries] (reprint; Beijing: Zhonghua shuju,
1983), Vol. 2 , 170.1487c.
110
artificial constructions and artful embellishments that he felt characterized
the poetic works of contemporary literati. A self-conscious product
composed by a literary talent or an expression of cultivated and measured
comportment would just be superfluous words, and Chen is unambiguous
in his denunciation of this kind of poetry: “Craft in poetry,” he says, “is
the demise of poetry.”78 This sentiment echoes Chen's teacher, Wu
Yubi, who believed that crafted poetry displayed the ambition of the
author to pursue fame and profit. Chen Xianzhang's concerns are directed
more at the kind of language which is used and the degree to which it is
unmediated expression rather than conscious construction. Chen said,
"[In the literary compositions of] those who are good at ancient letters
one doesn't see a trace of construction, as if it was entirely casually
spoken, naturally wonderful."79 Literary or linguistic construction is
the result of exterior intervention and therefore lacks the quality of ziran
and here is contrasted to casual speech. Discussing the ziran quality of
Chen's poetry, Zhan Ruoshui quotes the approving comments of Chen's
friend, Zhuang Chang (1437-99): "not a single character comes
from purposeful arrangement."80 What is striking in all these descriptions
of Chen’s poetry, especially Chen's reference to superior poetry as
sounding like speech, is the importance spoken language played in both
Chen's poetics and his poetry. Although never articulated in such explicit
terms, and indeed Chen never wrote poetry that could be described as
purely vernacular, the intimation is that the written classical language is
78Qu Dajun, "Baisha shi,”Guangdong xinyu, 12.4a.
79Huang Zongxi, "Lun xueshu," Mingru xuean, 85.
“’Zhan Ruoshui, "Chongke Baisha xiansheng quanji xu," 896.
I ll
often burdened by artificiality, and one escape from this is the
incorporation of spoken language.
Chen's pursuit of spontaneity over craft had a more vital significance
than merely fulfilling the dictates of mind-spring poetics, and marked
what I find to be a strong anti-cultural tone in Chen's life and teaching.
When Chen, for instance, discussed the unacceptability of craft and the
necessity for spontaneity, he did not necessarily connect it to a state of
perfected cultivation. Instead Chen made a claim for poetry which
foreshadowed Wang Yangming's moral philosophy. He maintained that
the innate source for superior poetry was common to all people and did
not demand any sort of cultivation, and it was in this context that the
link between emotion and poetry could not be severed:
Craft in poetry is the demise of poetry. Following my

emotions it is poured forth. Ordinary men and woman
each have the entire [Poetry] Classic in their breasts. This
is the source of the feng S and ya ifg.81
Here Chen comes near to claiming that spontaneity in poetry is merely

what is common and ordinary, to the point that even the Poetry Classic
has nothing to do with skill in the written language for its source is the
illiterate commoner. Once more, the unlettered and uncultured have
poetry while literati adepts do not. This apparent privileging of the
vernacular is emphasized in Chen's description of "scholars' language"
(xueren yanyu |S A l!sn) as "in the end just an old wrapper" (zhong shi
jiu tao &$liif S ) .82
81Ibid.
“ "Yu Zhang Tingshi zhushi," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 1,174.
112
For Chen, scholar's language and the finely crafted poem lacked
the grounding in the well-spring of the mind, but also lacked any
pedagogical m erit:"... crafting rhymed couplets, spending all one's years
adorning literature with mountains and rivers, grasses and trees, clouds
and mist, fish and birds, this is of no assistance to the world."83 The
necessity of the poem to assist the world also demanded that language
be easily understandable. Thus the plain-speaking character of Chen's
poems also revealed their pedagogical purpose, and likewise Chen
dismissed the kind of crafted poems which held subtle, hidden, or multiple
meamngs. 84 -
Chen Xianzhang had reasons beyond poetry and language for

privileging the common people over the scholar class, related to a personal
moral stance which associated mainstream literati cultural forms with
moral dissolution. The influence of Wu Yubi may play a role in this
regard, and from him Chen may well have been impressed with the
distinction between the rustic W u Yubi and the literati and officials in
the capital who were engaged in "learning for profit." The contrast
would have been especially jarring if we consider that these same literati
were responsible for the empire's humiliation and the retreat of the Dao
from the Central Plain. Whatever the precise source of Chen’s revelations,
it seems by the time he left W u Yubi he had already come to the
conclusion that the Dao was by and large absent from the world and
contemporary literati culture had lost its moral bearings. After leaving
W u Yubi, on his journey home to Baisha, Chen never set foot in a single
^Quoted in Huang Guilan, Baisha xueshuo j i qi shi zhi yanjiu , 108.
“ In ibid., 107.
113
town. This is quite remarkable given that the distance he covered was
some 800 kilometers. The general notion that the peace and quiet of
remote settings is conducive to introspection and cultivation, along with
Chen's own antinomian proclivities may have played a role in his behavior,
though I believe they are alone insufficient for explaining Chen's adamant
refusal to even enter a town. It is a decision it seems he made on
principle, because he associated urban life with nothing less than the
decline of the age.85 Towns were primarily market centers and sites of
profit-making. The concentration of wealth and culture that was in this
way supported was thus seen as tainted, as likely were the government
offices maintained there. The capital was, of course, the "town" par
excellence.
The denunciation of the profit-making mentality of the literati
was a common theme in Chen's work, as was the virtues of ordinary
people.86 To give one example, in his district there was a young woman
whose filial devotion was such that she refused to marry so that she
could continue to care for her father. Chen even went to their cottage to
pay his respects.87 Another example from Chen's poetry is his "Ode to
the Virtuous Woman Chen." According to Zhang Xu, the woman was a
widow who lived for 17 years in extreme poverty and yet remained
virtuous.88 The poem reads:
“ The fact that this pattern of behavior is often found in Chen's disciples also
suggests that not entering a town was a choice based on adherehce to principles.
“ As a teacher Chen also welcomed peasants, merchants, and all who were
interested in learning without regard to their social station. Zhang Xu, "Baisha
xiansheng xingzhuang," 881. See also, Li Chengji, "Shou shiweng Chen xiansheng
liushiyi shi xu," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,924.
^Huang Zongxi, "Yunshi Shi Xingtang xiansheng Guifang," Mingru xuean,
Vol. 1,108.
114
Customs of former years, a single bad thread,
Down to today, a corrupt age.
If you want to discuss the morality of high antiquity,
Don't inquire of other families, the virtuous woman knows.89
"Other families" (qujia MW.) in the fourth line can also mean "great
families." Chen uses qu unambiguously in the sense of "other" elsewhere
in his poetry, in this case he was likely conscious of the pun. In any
case, the poem's injunction to look to the poor and humble as models of
virtue implied the moral bankruptcy of the wealthy literati class.
These values were reflected in Chen's own disavowal of wealth.
His biographers always accent the twin themes of morality and poverty:
In his early years Chen was evidently extremely poor and even had to
borrow grain from neighbors to feed his family. He was taken pity on
by a local official who gave him enough land to feed his family.
Descriptions of Chen's poverty by friends and disciples invariably connect
it to moral strength. Chen's disciple, Zhang Xu, said, "Although Mr.
[Chen] was as poor as a common man, his morality swept over the
world."90 His very close friend, Luo Lun, said: "Mr. [Chen] did not
desire wealth or social status but was joyful in poverty and humbleness."
And he goes on to cite a line from Xunzi, "[Any] person on the road can
be like Yu [the Great]."91 By his own example, Chen was living proof
that the common people have the poetry of the Classics and the virtue of
^ h a n g Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 877.
89"Chengjiefu shi," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,636.

^Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng mubiao," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1,97.
91L uo Lun, "Song Baisha Chen xiansheng xu," Chen Xianzhang ji, Vol. 2,
923.
115
the sages.
Though poor, Chen declined to seek profit for himself, and his
fame as a humble and moral man was enhanced by stories of his lack of
material desires. The county magistrate who was known for his avarice
feared that Chen would expose him and thwart his career. Using Chen's
mother's birthday as a pretext, he presented Chen with several ting of
gold. Under the circumstances Chen could not but accept, but when the
magistrate later lost his post due to corruption Chen returned all the
money. Chen's wealthier friends and disciples often tried to give him
gifts. If circumstances permitted, he would refuse. Outright refusal was
easier if the gift was extravagant, for instance when Surveillance
Commissioner Li Baizhou wanted to present him with a garden in
Guangzhou. If Chen felt he was unable to refuse, he would find creative
ways to return the money later, for instance waiting until the donor died
and then sending the money back to his family for funeral expenses. On
one occasion, his house was evidently in such bad repair that two officials
were prompted to give him money to fix it. Chen could not refuse the
money, but instead of fixing his house he donated the money to a nearby
school.
Chen was also extremely generous with whatever resources he
had. He helped out poor disciples, such as Li Chengji who arrived at
Baisha with nothing. Chen fed and clothed him, and even had a small
house specially built for him. If Chen's friends happened to admire
anything he owned he would immediately give it to them without the
slightest qualm. He even gave away the wood he was saving for his
own coffin to the son of a recently deceased friend because in his will
the friend had mentioned that he wanted a coffin with beautiful wood
116
like the kind Chen had. Chen had a nephew who was orphaned at a
young age. Chen took him in and raised him like a son, even going so
far as to give him a portion of his property to raise his own family. In a
similar story, Chen bought a female servant from the Yi nationality.
When he discovered that she had the ancient and noble surname Yin ffr,
he raised her like a daughter and even married her off.
Stories of Chen's extreme generosity clash with those describing
his extreme poverty. Whatever the true state of his finances, Chen
maintained affectations of a humble life-style and strove to cultivate an
air of rusticity. An excellent illustration of Chen's efforts to maintain
this air in his later years involves his calligraphy. Chen was an
accomplished calligrapher. His style was fantastically wild and free,
and I would add, deserving of the epitaph "spontaneous" much more
than his poetry. The story goes that since the area around Baisha was
mountainous and inaccessible, it was not possible for Chen to procure
writing brushes. So Chen made his own brushes by tying together wild
rushes. In later years, when presumably he did have access to brushes,
he nevertheless chose to continue to write calligraphy exclusively with
his rushes. Contemporaries called his products "rush calligraphy" and it
became popular enough that it attracted several imitators.92
The above are but a few examples of the way Chen Xianzhang, as
his disciple put it, "manifested his virtue to the world."93 Far more
impressive from the standpoint of Chen's fellow literati, however, was
his renown as a filial son. Chen had the great misfortune to be bom
“ Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 881.

“ Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng mubiao," Mingru xuean, V ol.l, 97.
117
fatherless, his father having died in the year of his birth. This deprived
Chen of the opportunity to exercise the pinnacle of moral virtues, and he
evidently intensely felt the lack. Wu Yubi relates that while he was
with him Chen often expressed such distress at not being able to serve
his father that it invariably moved anyone who heard him. It was
common at the time for a teacher to choose a name for a disciple's study
which would at once aptly fit the student's proclivities in learning as
well as serve as a slogan of encouragement. When Chen departed, Wu
composed the name "Filial Thoughts" (xiaosi # & ) for his study and
sent him off with the characters written in Wu's own hand.94 Chen
compensated for his inability to honor his father by being an extremely
filial son to his mother. His mother also likely found emotional condolence
in her young son after the loss of her husband. The two were certainly
very close, perhaps unusually so. Chen records that he fed at his mother's
breast until he was eight years old. He credits this for saving his life,
for he was a sickly child.95 Zhang Xu tells us that they were unusually
fond of each other. Even as an adult, Chen would refuse to eat if his
mother was not at his side, or, if he relented and ate, was unable to
enjoy the meal. When he had to leave for the capital, he could not bear
to say good-bye to her. She died when she was ninety years old, a relief
for Chen, because he feared that he may die before her. After she
passed her seventieth birthday, Chen would dress solemnly every evening
and pray to heaven that he be allowed to outlive her. After the mourning
94Wu Yubi, "Xiaositang ji," Kangzhai j i [Wu Yubi's Collected Works]

(Wenyuatt ge siku chuanshu, Vol. 1251,357-596), 10.8b-9a.
9SChen Xianzhang, "Qi zhongyang shu," Chen Xianzhang j i, Vol. 1,3.
118
period was over, Chen never again wore silk or embroidered clothing,
saying that in the past he only did it to please his mother.96 It is likely
significant that Chen's mother was a devout Buddhist and in this regard
Chen also yielded to her sentiments. We may also add that Chen's
father was an accomplished poet. The strong Buddhist strain as well as
the peculiarly vaulted status of poetry in Chen's mature teachings may
indeed have been alternate expressions of his filial piety. Chen's filial
sentiments were so strong they even extended to the parents of his
friends. When Luo Lun's parents died, Chen wore mourning garments
for three months as if they were his own relatives. It was also through
his filiality that he showed his devotion to the emperor. Whenever the
news came that an emperor or empress died, he would mourn as if it
was his own mother or father. Thus, "even though his footsteps could
be found in the mountains and forests, his mind was of love for the
emperor and concern for the empire."97
Political Engagement
When the customs of an age are not good and a heroic

literati stands up defiantly and opposes them, then evil can
be eradicated and good restored.98
^Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," ibid, Vol. 2 ,8 7 4 . Also found

in Li Shaowen, "Yanyu," Huangming shishuo xinyu [A New Account of Tales of the
World in the Imperial Ming Dynasty] (Wanli photo reprint. Taibei: Xinxing shuju,
1985), 1.11a.
97A11 these anecdotes can be found in Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng
xingzhuang,"873-76.
wHe Qin, "Yanxing lu," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1,100.
119
These words by Chen Xianzhang's disciple, He Qin Jflfc (1437-1511),
no doubt were spoken with his teacher in mind, and they also illustrate
an idealistic faith in the efficacy of active engagement with the forces of
corruption common to many officials in the late fifteenth century. Chen
was not the only literati to perceive the degeneration of the age and the
desperate need to oppose evil and restore good. If the Tumu incident
instilled doubts in literati as to the presence of the Dao in the world,
subsequent events confirmed that the Dao was absent, not by the inability
to keep barbarians at bay on the border, but by the rampant corruption in
the Ming court. With the ascendancy of emperor Xianzong (Zhu Jianshen
r. 1464-1487), abuses mounted to such an outrageous extent that
the activities of the Inner Court came to resemble a hard-to-believe
imperial soap opera. The emperor was entirely dominated by his consort
and former nursemaid, Lady Wan, who schemed to advance her cronies
and extend her power and wealth. Under her direction, allies gained
direct appointment to office by imperial edict, thereby avoiding the
normal route of promotions through the Ministry of Personnel. Unable
to produce an heir herself, she insured that all sons bom to palace
woman were liquidated by her eunuch agents. She even had her rival,
the empress herself, banished to a remote section of the Imperial City.
The empress, however, consoled herself by concealing a son bom to the
emperor from a palace maid of the Yao nationality. Unbeknownst to
Lady Wan, the maid gave birth after having been hidden by the very
eunuch Lady Wan had sent to terminate her pregnancy. Sometime after
the birth the truth was revealed. Lady Wan immediately poisoned her
new rival the mother. The boy was kept safely out of her reach, however,
and when he grew older he knew not to eat or drink anything if invited
120
to Land Wan's apartments. The emperor would hear no criticism of
Lady Wan, however, and if officials dared to complain they were often
punished.99
Lady Wan extended her influence by having her relatives appointed
to various posts. Her younger brother, for instance, was commander of
the imperial bodyguard. Naturally she made alliances with those unofficial
power-holders in the inner court, the eunuchs. Under Lady W an's
sponsorship a eunuch named Wang Zhi 2ES (fl. 1476-az. 1481) came to
command the Western Depot and had such power that "he terrorized the
officialdom and the elite of the capital and in the provinces as had no
previous Ming figure...."100 Another "notorious" eunuch, and favorite of
Lady W an was Liang Fang who managed the key responsibility of
procuring all manner of precious materials for the palace from throughout
the empire. A native of Xinhui Guangdong, he was active in the lucrative
Guangdong pearl trade. Lady Wan also extended her influence to court
officials. Wan An (d. 1489) rose to the highest position in the
empire, senior grand secretary. By virtue of their identical surnames,
W an An called himself Lady Wan's nephew, cultivated his relationship
with her family, and used her favor to build a position of power at court.
He was closely allied with another grand secretary also known for his
immoral behavior, Liu Ji f ij^ (d. 1493). All these individuals strove to
consolidate their own power at the expense of an emperor who gave
them free rein and the officials of the Hanlin Academy and outer court
who could do little but send up ineffectual protests.
"These and other details o f Xianzong's reign can be found in The Cambridge
History o f China, Vol. 7,343-50.
100Ibid., 350.
121
Chen Xianzhang's return to the capital in 1466 to reenter the
National University more or less coincided with the beginning of
Xianzong’s infamous reign in 1464. His presence in the capital again
during a period of crisis likely confirmed his commitment to political
engagement and as well a commitment to the positive value of words
spoken directly from the mind. It also made his moral example and
teachings all the more inspiring to like-minded officials. Though not
personally engaged in politics for most of his life, through his relationships
with others the licentiate from Guangdong province nevertheless had an
immediate effect upon events in the capital and was one of the most
influential figures in new trends in Ming political culture. After Chen
was discovered by Xing Rang, he was hailed by many as the reappearance
o f a true Confucian and thus drew to him many talented and idealistic
young officials in the capital. Chen's sudden notoriety in the capital was
initiated by the poem which Xing Rang had elicited and then praised as
the product of a Confucian worthy. Given the context, it is significant
that the poem contains the lines: "Righteousness and profit diverge on
separate paths" and echoing He Qin, "Let each and all make utmost
effort, and in the end the raging tide will be turned back."101 Uttered in
the capital, Chen is no doubt referring to the many in the inner and outer
court who have taken the path of profit rather than righteousness. Less
an effort to enlighten the reader to the wordless mystery of the Dao,
these lines really function as a form of remonstrance. In fact, it is
striking how close Chen's poetics resemble the way remonstrance was
ideally conceived. To speak straight from the moral mind or "conscience"
‘“‘Translated in Jen Yu-wen, "Ch'en Hsien-chang's Philosophy of the Natural,"

59.
122
with no attention paid to external considerations, least of all gain or loss
for the speaker, this was the challenge of all righteous officials and the
censor in particular. If viewed from the standpoint of Chen's poetics,
that one could indeed speak words which flowed from the same source
that the sages themselves tapped when they spoke, we can understand
why remonstrance could be conceived of as so powerful and how a
single heroic individual could single-handedly turn the tide of evil. When
the righteous minister spoke, the Dao literally returned to the world.
Chen was not known for being politically outspoken, one reason
being that he never held a position that gave him a voice in the government.
After Chen arrived in the capital though, all his close friends would
become known for their courage to speak out against the moral
degeneration in the court. To what degree this was due to Chen's
influence is not clear, though there is an unmistakable pattern of
remonstrance among Chen's friends which focuses on issues related to
profit, filial piety, and the need for moral speech itself. The young
officials who Chen befriended in the capital according to Zhang Xu
were four Southerners: Luo Lun, Zhang Mou (1437-1522), Zhuang
Chang, and He Qin. Chen spent much time with them in the capital,
Luo Lun and Zhuang Chang becoming his especially close life-long
friends. All four received the j ins hi degree in 1466, the year Chen
reentered the National University. They were fresh to the capital, young,
idealistic, and extremely talented. Zhang Mou and Zhuang Chang passed
high enough on the examination to be among the very few appointed to
the Hanlin Academy, as was Lou who passed with the distinction of
optimus. They clearly found in Chen a like-minded colleague, but more
than that they likely viewed the older Chen as a teacher and source of
123
moral inspiration-H e Qin especially, for he performed the formalities
appropriate to a disciple, personally grinding Chen's ink block. Qin felt
a sense of outrage that a person of Chen's caliber was only a student in
the National University. He said, "A perfected nature remains hidden; a
treasure is obscured. The world is using me, but how can I be of
use?"102 Thereupon he resigned from office and lived in retirement for
the next twenty years. The three friends who remained became famous
for their intolerance of abuses at court and their courage to speak out
against them. Along with Huang Zhongzhao (jlHtBS 1435-1508), a
native of Putian iff EH, Fujian (a county from where a number of Chen
Xianzhang's friends and disciples hailed), they became known collectively
as the Four Remonstrators of the Hanlin Academy (Hanlin sijian
Luo Lun, described in the Official Ming History as morally straight,

always on the side of righteousness, and uninterested in fame or profit,
already exhibited an ability to take a stand on the side of moral principles
by writing an examination essay in which he chided the emperor for
associating too closely with eunuchs and consorts (Lady Wan no doubt).
As a Hanlin compiler, Luo continued to be outspoken and after only two
months at his new post wrote a memorial attacking Grand Secretary Li
Xian (1408-67) for not observing the mourning period for his father.
The practice by which grand secretaries were "recalled" (juqi tt£E) by
the emperor before they could serve out the mourning period for parents
to which Luo so strenuously objected began early on in the dynasty and
had become somewhat routine by his own day. The Grand Secretariat
,02Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng xingzhuang," 869.
124
was seen by Luo as especially culpable in this regard, and in his memorial,
he cites the immoral precedent of Grand Secretary Yang Pu who was
recalled out of mourning for his mother by the Xuanzong emperor. Luo
argues that this kind of behavior can never be justified by the needs of
the empire. "Those who forget their parents," he writes, "cannot be
loyal officials."103 Thus his criticism of Li Xian was particularly biting,
as it was of the emperor who continued the practice. In fact Luo accuses
all the officials in the capital of tacit complicity. Luo Lun's moral
whistle-blowing did not stir the conscience of Li Xian or the emperor
though, and he was immediately demoted to assistant inspector of the
maritime trade superintendency in Quanzhou, Fujian. In the minds of
righteous officials, the manifestly unfilial behavior of the grand secretaries
could not but contrast with the behavior of Chen Xianzhang, the humble
and filial provincial. Luo Lun himself not only mourned his parents
according to the prescriptions, but displayed the depth of his filial piety
by not using any salt or sauces on his food for the entire mourning
period. W hen both of Huang Zhongzhao's parents died in succession,
he did not leave the grave site for four years.104
The filial behavior, and moral tenor in general, of grand secretaries
continued to be a target of remonstrance by morally-minded officials.
Grand Secretary Liu Ji requested three times to be allowed to moum for
his deceased father, but was retained by the emperor. Chen Yin (l^ lf
ca. 1457j.s.) was a Hanlin compiler from Putian, Fujian who was on
close terms with Chen Xianzhang. Chen Yin wrote Liu Ji a letter urging
mMingshi, Vol. 16,4749.

104Ibid., 4753-4.
125
him to be more resolute in his determination to resign. Liu Ji's reaction
suggests that his thrice-offered request was only proform a, for thereafter
he referred to Chen as a "moldy Confucian" and obstructed his promotion
for an entire decade.105 There were other indications that Chen Yin as a
Hanlin academician was displeased with the moral bearing and political
behavior with Ms superiors in the Grand Secretariat, especially the close
relations some grand secretaries maintained with eunuchs. Chen Yin
was also known for taking a public stance against eunuchs and official
who fraternized with them. When the eunuch director of ceremonial
Huang Si's mother died, Chen and some fellow compatriots in the Hanlin
Academy, in contrast to the grand secretaries, were the only ones who
did not attend the mourning ceremony.
In 1468 the three Hanlin compilers Zhuang Chang , Zhang Mou,
and Huang Zhongzhao wrote a joint memorial directed at the Xianzong
emperor Mmself, chastising Mm for Ms sensual pursuits. On the night
of the first full moon in 1468, lanterns were displayed in the palace and
the emperor had ordered the "literary officials" of the Hanlin Academy
to compose poems in honor of the event. TMs was a routine request as
one of the responsibilities of Hanlin academicians was to write poems
o f praise and admiration for the emperor on suitable occasions, and in
Yang Shiqi's and Yang Rong's collections we find poems in honor of
the imperial lantern display.106 Instead of polite poetry in praise of the
emperor and his rule, however, the three compilers responded instead
with a memorial. In the memorial they claimed that such frivolity could
10SIbid., 4881.
106Jian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu, 282.
126
not possibly have been the emperor's idea, but must have been his
mother's. In any case they pointed out, filial piety is established by
cultivating the will, not in indulging in sensual delights. Significantly,
they objected to the poetry writing as much as they did the lantern
display: "Is displaying lanterns the Dao of Yao and Shun? Is poetry the
words of benevolence and righteousness?" In fact they reserved their
harshest language for the condemnation of this kind of poetry which
they refer to as "language which is vulgar, coarse, and unclassical"
( louli bujing zhi ct and "vulgar, indecent language" ( lowcie
zhi d RM^^.15]).107 The emperor was understandably outraged and each
was given twenty blows with a bamboo cane and demoted. The contrast
between Chen’s poetry which flowed straight from the mind and the
polite adulations the Hanlin academicians were forced to compose for
the emperor was stark indeed, as was the contrast between the kind of
words the emperor ordered and the kind he received. In their memorials
the Hanlin compilers were speaking their minds, letting their natural
moral sensibilities flow straight out as it were with no concern for
exterior considerations. They certainly had made no calculation for
their personal plight, for it seems unlikely that they could have expected
to emerge from their remonstrance unscathed. T he remonstrances
mirrored Chen's poetics as spontaneous moral expression, and also in
their contrast to the "crafted" literary expression most often demanded
of Hanlin academicians.
The belief in the need for moral officials to speak is exhibited in
lff7For the entire text of the memorial, see Zhuang Chang, Dingshaii j i [Collected
Works of Zhuang Chang], Siku quanshu, Vol. 1254 (Taibei: Shangwu yinshuguan,
1979), 10.23a-27a.
I ll
the concern of Chen's friends and disciples for keeping open the "avenue
of words" (yanlu gfS-Dbetween officialdom and the emperor. As the
expression of upright officials, this "avenue of words" functioned to
bind the emperor to the moral minds in the outer court instead of the
greedy machinations of eunuchs and imperial relatives. Not long after
the remonstrance incidents described above, the Hanlin compiler Chen
Yin memorialized the throne complaining about the inability of officials
to openly give criticism and the emperor to receive it. In his 1470
memorial he said that although the emperor participated in the Classics
Mat imperial study sessions, officials still did not dare to express opinions.
He recommended that the emperor invite various "Confucian ministers"
to meet with him face to face and allow them to air their opinions in a
relaxed manner. After several days he submitted a second memorial
recommending several worthy men, including Luo Lun and Zhang Mou.
He complains that "speaking officials" whose duty it was to remonstrate
were being silenced and suggested that measures be taken to "open the
avenue of words." He specifically requested that Chen Xianzhang be
made a censor. For his memorial, Chen Yin was reprimanded "for
disobedience."108 Zhang Yuanzhen (SHtgH 1460j.s.), a disciple of Chen
Xianzhang and a Hanlin compiler also memorialized at the beginning of
Xianzong's reign and suggested that the emperor meet with lower level
officials of the fifth rank and under and talk freely about issues of
government. He also suggested that when promoting men to positions
as censors current rank and family background were not at all important
as long as they dare to speak out. Here the intimation is that men of low
128
rank and humble backgrounds, like Chen Xianzhang, make good censors.
This intimation is also present in Zhang's following suggestion that
censors not be recommended by high officials, because then the censors
would be unlikely to criticize them .109 Since grand secretaries often
concurrently held high bureaucratic posts, Zhang's memorial recognizes
that their power was too great, and harmful, and that steps needed to be
taken to lessen their control.
Another official who felt that the mechanism whereby ministers
only sent their opinions to the emperor in the form of written documents
needed to be changed to allow for oral interviews was Zou Zhi (HEH1
1486j.s.). He came from a poor family in Hezhou, Sichuan and studied
at night from the light of burning leaves until he passed first in the
provincial examinations in 1487. He did so not to achieve fame in the
examinations, he said, but to right the world by forcing Wan An, Liu Ji,
and Yin Zhi (1427-1511) from office. He passed the jinshi the
following year and immediately submitted a memorial encouraging the
emperor to distinguish the good ministers from the bad, promote righteous
officials like Zhang Mou, and curb eunuch power. He also complained
that censors did not speak out, and when confronted with their
responsibility to be righteous and loyal officials, they respond, "It is not
that I do not want to speak out, but when the words come out then
disaster follows... ."uo The memorial was not responded to by the emperor.
When the Hongzhi emperor, Zhu Youtang (r. 1488-1505), ascended
the throne, Zou felt his ambitions could succeed and he memorialized
109Ibid., 4879-80.
110Ibid., 4756.
129
the throne. He began again with the criticism that the emperor did not
solicit "straight words without anything withheld" and attacked Liu Ji
and W an An by name. In this memorial he also recommended Peng
Shao (1430-95), another native of Putian, Fujian and Chen Xianzhang
supporter, as junzi of the age.111 Wan An and Yin Zhi were removed,
but to the chagrin of Zou and his compatriots Liu Ji remained at his
post. Through spies Liu Ji was able to obtain what he made to look like
incriminating evidence that Zou was involved in a treasonous clique.
Fortunately Peng Shao as vice minister of justice refused to bring them
to trial and Zou was demoted to a clerkship in an office in Shicheng,
Guangdong. It was at this time that he became a disciple of Chen
Xianzhang. A local magistrate built him a dwelling. The door tablet
read "Exiled Immortal" {zhexian Mflll). Zou soon died at the age of 25.112
One of the implications in the memorials recommending opening
the "avenue of words" is that speaking face to face is preferable to
written communication. Favoring the spoken over the written word as a
more effective medium for the expression of moral conscience reflected
the fear that written proposals could be intercepted and diverted from
the emperor's eyes - as we know memorials were first read by the grand
secretaries and conducted to the emperor via eunuchs. There is also the
intimation, however, that by speaking an official could be more forthright
in stating his mind, and that writing was more constricted by external
considerations. This was not only because written communication might
fall into the hands of one's enemies, but that by its very nature writing
mIbid„ 4757-58.
112See ibid, 4755-59; Huang Songxi, "Limu Zou Lizhai xiansheng Zhi," Mingru
xuean, Vol. 1.101-2.
130
carried with it the burden of culture, style, and social correctness demanded
by public expression. Speech was more socially intimate and more
conducive to personal expression. Formal constraints disallowed officials
in the capital to incorporate the virtues of casual speech into their writings
like Chen Xianzhang did with his poetry. The alternative, leisurely
chats with the emperor, mirrored Chen Xianzhang's pedagogical style in
which language is seen as its being most effective when it is spoken
directly, naturally, without concern for exterior considerations. This
implied favoring of speech over writing in Chen Yin's and Zhou Zhi’s
memorials never became an explicit proposition, one reason being that
their proposals were rejected and officials were forced to remonstrate in
writing if they were to at all.
The unbridled pursuit of wealth among the powerful in the capital
naturally was also a focus of moral literati remonstrance. The perception
that the life of a common person was morally superior was reinforced
when powerful agents of the inner court were seen as rapacious and the
common people their unfortunate victims. Peng Shao wrote a memorial
in 1469 as a vice-director in the Ministry of Justice accusing the empress
dowager's younger brother of confiscating land belonging to commoners,
a practice that was wide-spread among the imperial relatives. Zhou Yu
had petitioned that certain portions of farmland for which no tax had
been received be reclassified as uncultivated land. This would have
allowed him to then seize it for himself. Peng Shao revealed in his
memorial that Ming Taizu had made the land exempt from taxation in
perpetuity in order to encourage agriculture. "This minister cannot bear
to see the food and clothing stolen from the common people in order to
enrich imperial relatives," he wrote in the memorial, words which would
131
be repeated often by remonstrating officials. Peng was rewarded with
imprisonment.113
The pursuit of profit by Xianzong, his relatives, and their cronies
was only the most visible manifestation of what Chen Xianzhang pointed
to as the great defect of the age. Among Chen's disciples, the Mencian
distinction between righteousness and profit is a central theme. Zhang
Xu speaks in no uncertain terms: "That which literati protect is the
distinction between righteousness and profit even if the difference is
only as large as the tip of a hair, and they treat it as importantly as the
question of life and death."114 Chen's appraisal was also shared by his
compatriots. Luo Lun, noting that customs were degenerating, officials
were greedier, and bandits abounded, discovered the source of these
problem in literati having discarded the learning of Cheng Yi and Zhu
X i.115 Their enticement by wealth was a failure of mental cultivation:
"Their good mind dies and their greedy mind is bom ."116 The degree to
which the issue of profit consumed Luo Lun can be seen in his claim
that "the Dao of the junzi is nothing else but the distinction between
righteousness and profit."117
m Mingshi, Vol. 16,4855-56. Peng was soon released due to the efforts o f a
censor. During his tenure he also ran afoul of Lady Wan's favorite eunuch, Liang
Fang. Due to the family's local connections, Liang Fang's younger brother, Liang
De came to Guangdong on an imperial purchasing trip to obtain precious plant and
animal products, a position which he abused and profitted from immensly. Peng
Shao wrote a memorial in protest. This angered Liang Fang who then arranged to
have Peng Shao demoted to Guizhou.
U4Zhang Xu, "Fu Cao Wudan," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1,96.
nsLuo Lun, "Fu Zhang duxian shu," Yifeng wenji [The Collected Literary
Works of Luo Lun], Siku quanshu, Vol. 1251,629-792 (Taibei: Shangwu yinshuguan,
1979), 9.2a.
U6"Lun shu wen dai bao qing shou Xie shi xiu zuo"
jf-fE, Yifeng wenji, 724b.
132
In the face of mounting abuses at court, upright and indignant
officials remonstrated in the form of written memorials, but they also
registered their unhappiness with the age by presenting themselves as
living alternatives to the greed and profit-mongering they saw as
dominating life at court. Chen Xianzhang's example in this regard was
itself a form of remonstrance directed against literati society at large.
We also find the rejection of wealth and what at times appears to be an
almost dogged pursuit of poverty among Chen's disciples. Chen Maolie
1496 j.s.) was also a native of Putian, Fujian, and became a
disciple of Chen Xianzhang after he passed the jinshi examination and
was appointed a pacification commissioner in Guangdong province. He
was known for his displays of poverty. W hen he travelled north to a
post in Shanxi, he almost froze to death because he did not have padded
clothes. Later he was promoted to censor and could be seen travelling
on the road leading a lame horse and dressed in a plain common robe.
An official so comported was a sight rarely seen and it is said anyone he
passed stared at him in awe. His embrasure of poverty continued after
he left office to care for his aged mother. He worked in the fields and
hauled water himself. Due to his purity the ministry of personnel asked
that he be given a monthly rice ration. He wrote a memorial refusing it,
saying that he and his mother were not so badly off, that she was
accustomed to poverty in any case, and that he would feel uneasy receiving
a stipend from public funds.118
Luo Lun is cited by the Mingshi as one of the few officials who
ll7"Fu jinxian Lu Dayi shu," Yifeng w e n ji, 9.6b.

U8Huang Zongxi, "Yushi Chen Shizhou xiansheng Maolie," Mingru xuean,
Vol. 1,103.
133
did not engage in the practice of continuing to collect the salaries of
servants and soldiers under his jurisdiction after they had left their posts.
After resigning from office, Luo Lun lived on a mountain in a thatched
hut where he provided for his family through farming and husbandry.
He was so poor that Ms wife had to beg food from the neighbors on an
occasion when he had to entertain a guest. A local prefect took pity on
him and wanted to give him grain, but he refused.119 After Zhuang
Chang retired to a thatched hut on Mount Ding, Wang Shu (j£2S 1416-
1508), later a famous minister of personnel, visited Mm and offered Mm
fifteen y i of gold to refurbish Ms dwelling. Zhuang refused it saying, "Is
it permissible to receive official tax revenue in order to fix a private
hut?"120 After retiring, Zhang Mou farmed Ms 20 mou of land though he
could not produce enough to feed Ms family and had to depend on the
generosity of fellow-clansmen.121 His family was so poor they did not
even have eating utensils.122
Political R etreat
In 1482 Peng Shao recommended Chen Xianzhang for office as a

man whose talents and morality far surpassed his own. It was accepted
by the throne, but Chen declined due to Ms aged mother. Afraid that
U9Mingshi, Vol. 16,4753.
mDingshan ji, "buyi" [supplement], 2a.
121Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 1,97.
n2Mingshi, Vol. 16,4752.
134
Chen would not serve, Zhu Ying also penned a memorial at the end of
which he wrote that he had already urged Chen to start out for the
capital. The story goes that Zhu then told Chen that if he did not go it
would make Zhu a liar and so Chen had no choice but to depart for the
capital. He was quite leisurely in his pace, however, on the way staying
with Zhuang Chang for over a month on Mount Ding. Instead of being
given a post when he finally arrived at the capital, the minister of
personnel, Yin Min d.u.) ordered him to take an examination.
Relations between the two men were cool as can be inferred from this
short conversation. W hen they met, Yin Ming asked Chen, "How are
the officials in your province?" Chen replied, "The same as every other
province." Yin Ming then asked Chen to sit down by himself, but
instead of politely declining, Chen merely sat down without saying
anything.123 Zhang Xu claims that by forcing Chen to take an examination,
Yin Ming was taking revenge on Chen because he refused to accept Yin
Ming's son as a disciple during his previous tour of the capital. It is also
said that Chen did not get along with the vice minister of personnel, Qiu
Jun ($!?£ 1420-95), a fellow Cantonese who some say conspired to
thwart him. In any case Chen refused to take the examination, pleading
illness. He also wrote a long and moving memorial to the emperor
requesting he be allowed to return home to care for his mother. The
emperor granted his request and gave him an honorary position as a
Hanlin examiner. Chen never returned to the capital.
Biographical accounts tend to stress Chen's reluctance to serve in
123It is interesting that Chen's "wordless" behavior in this regard was seen by
the chronicler as evidence of Chen's simplicity and straightforwardness. The above
is recorded in Ruan Rongling, Bianci Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, 823-832.
135
the government, for this corresponds more closely with the Chen
Xianzhang who had no desire for profit. A willingness to refuse office
was considered to be a sign of moral purity in his day. For example,
Zhang Mou was known for entering the government reluctantly but
resigning readily, and for this reason all men of his generation considered
Mm lofty.124 In Chen's case we are told he sought office for a number of
reasons: the good name of a friend, alleviating suspicions of Ms intentions,
and Ms mother's wishes. This last justification for taking the examinations
and seeking office is found in a number of biograpMes. It is said, for
instance, that Zhan Ruoshui decided to take the examinations only after
his mother requested Mm to. Taking office then could be justified on
the grounds of filial piety. Filial piety, however, was just as likely to be
the rationale for relinquisWng office, as we have also seen in Chen's
case. Since officials were barred from serving in their home districts, an
official life invariably meant being separated from one’s parents. Chen's
disciple, Chen Maolie, also retired to care for his mother, and in fact
died right after she did. If the son was absent at the time of illness, or
worse, death of a parent, it was considered unfilial and therefore was the
source of genuine distress for some officials. For example, after Huang
Zhongzhao mourned Ms parents he refused to return to office on account
of not having properly cared for them .125 TMs ambivalent position of
filial piety in relation to office-holding is perhaps a reflection of the
uncertainty of many Ming literati of how to balance the pursuit of a
moral life and the injunction to speak, a task which according to their
12SIbid„ 4753-4.
136
perspective necessitated establishing a moral government. I suggest that
Chen pursued office under his own motivation, an extension, as it were,
of his desire to speak. How else can we explain his taking the examinations
three times and his extreme conduct after he failed? In fact, after failing
for the third time, Chen tried to appear nonplussed, but Zhuang Chang
made the acute observation that "Mr. Chen's laughter was too loud."125
It also remains curious that Chen was never explicitly critical of the
examination system itself, something which from his point of view ought
to encompass the moral and literary ills of the age.
Chen's ambivalence toward serving in office as reflected in the
extreme behaviors of either repeatedly taking the examinations or locking
himself up in his house was also apparent in many of the other idealistic
literati with which Chen associated. If extreme political activism was a
common pattern in Chen's circle of students and friends, so was giving
up office in order to care for parents and then choosing to remain in
retirement instead of returning to office. In one sense political engagement
and retreat were not at all contradictory as both could be seen as an
expression of moral idealism. Zhang Mou the Hanlin remonstrator
resigned his post in order to return to care for his parents, and in this
regard he displayed the same fervor accompanied by lack of concern for
his personal advantage. At one time he had told a fellow official whose
mother was ill and yet was not allowed to return home, "I would rather
break the law [and return home without permission] and be sentenced
for the crime."127 According to Ronald Dimburg and Julia Ching, "Zhang
1MRuan Rongling, Biatici Chen Baisha xiansheng nianpu, 812.
niMingshi, Vol. 16,4752.
137
Mou's life reflects the trend among certain scholars and officials of
Ming times towards a life of retreat rather than an official career."128
The suggestion that Zhang Mou preferred retreat to office-holding is not
entirely clear. After all, he held office for a total of some fifteen years.
In any case, Zhang's retreat should be considered in light of his political
engagement and the fact that while in office he was an unusually fervent
official and strove to remedy the enorm ous ills in government.
Unfortunately he served during an extremely corrupt reign and his efforts
of political activism were answered with beatings and demotion. Zhang's
failure to inject morality into the inner court may have been a factor in
his decision to leave office. In any case, Ms extensive political engagement
lent his retreat a significance it otherwise would not have had. The
resignation of a an official of Mgh moral stature is perhaps the severest
form of remonstrance.
Using resignation as a form of remonstrance was the professed
intention of He Qin, the official who resigned because Chen Xianzhang
had not been afforded a position in government commensurate with his
talents. TMs interpretation of He's resignation was not shared by all in
his day, however. The example of He was cited by Chen Xianzhang's
detractors as evidence that he was leading men astray and causing them
to forsake officialdom. The suggestion that Chen helped convince He
Qin that he ought to resign Ms post does find corroboration in He Qin's
subsequent behavior. After He left office, he built him self a small
studio where he read books for ten years without coming outside.129
,29Huang Zongxi, "Jishi He Yilu xiansheng Qin," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1,98.
138
Therefore He mimicked Chen's (and Wu Yubi's) efforts to attain sagehood
which for both Chen and Wu were the antithesis of the path to success
in officialdom (especially for Wu who we recall burned his practice
examination essays before retreating upstairs). Yet He's story does not
stop here, confusing any attempts to assess the relative values He himself
assigned political retreat and engagement. He continued to followed the
examples of Wu and Chen by not remaining locked up in his room. He
even returned to office ten years later. This kind of flip-flopping is
fairly common. Chen's disciple Zhang Xu passed the jinshi yet spent
hardly any time in office, retiring "due to illness." Six years later he
returned briefly to official life, then went into mourning and would not
return even after several recommendations. Many years later he again
accepted a post, but then once again resigned.130
If we keep in mind some of the tensions and ambiguities, it is true
that many Ming literati in the fifteenth century, and especially those
associated with Chen Xianzhang, enjoyed antinomian tendencies. Like
Chen himself, they recognized that the exam ination system and
officialdom were the pursuits of all those interested in fame and profit.
The degree to which the system corrupted individuals or individuals
corrupted the system was probably different for each, though most would
likely view it as the latter. In any case, the decision to retire or not to
serve was a sign of moral bearing as it demonstrated the will of the
individual not to participate in activides which would bring him personal
benefit. Many officials retired from office in order to mourn parents
and merely never returned. After a stroke, Zhuang Chang's father was
m Mingshi, Vol. 24,7263.
139
bedridden the last five years of his life. Zhuang, who was already at
home mourning the death of his mother, remained to care for him.
After his father died and his filial obligations were completed, Zhuang
did not return to office but settled on Ding Mountain where he lived for
twenty years. Five years before his death in 1499 he did return to
officialdom, though his biography states that he had to accept a post lest
his enemy at court, Qiu Jun (1420-95), use his refusal to take office
against him .131 There are also incidences of Chen Xianzhang's disciples
refusing to seek office altogether, again likely due to his influence.
After studying with Chen for two years, Li Chengji became a recluse on
Huanggong Mountain and never again took office.132 Chen’s disciple
Chen Yong 1474j.r.) served only five days as a vice subprefectural
magistrate before resigning and locking himself up behind closed doors.133
He Tingju (15J£l£g d.u.) determined to relinquish the examinations
upon becoming Chen's disciple.134 Another disciple, Xie You (Itf#}
d.u.), built a hut at the foot of Kui Mountain harvesting tea for a living
and "entirely rejected anything to do with fame and profit."135
When considering these antinomian tendencies, it is also profitable
to consider the nature of the "retreat." As we have seen, one model is
that of the scholar-recluse who locks himself up with his books. Here
131He was recommended for a post in the Hanlin Academy, but Qiu Jun
insured that he return to his old post in the ministry of rites in Nanjing. Mingshi,
Vol. 16,4754-5.
132Ibid., Vol. 24,7262.
I33Huang Zongxi, "Zhoutong Chen Bingchang xiansheng Shengyong," 105.
I34Huang Zongxi, "Xie Tianxi xiansheng You," Mingru xuean, V ol.l, 106.
13SHuang Zongxi, "Wenxue He Shizhen xiansheng Tingju," ibid., 106.
140
Chen Yong and He Qin are examples. Another is the hermit who lives
in unpopulated areas, on top of mountains, and the like. Xie You and Li
Chengji are examples of this kind. Most interesting are the literati who
decide to live in reclusion, not as eccentric hermits, but as common
farmers. They chose this alternative because they thought that living as
a farmer was pursuing a moral life, perhaps the most moral life. They
were following the pattern first cut by W u Yubi and Chen Xianzhang,
although it seems that Luo Lun and Chen Maolie worked in the fields a
lot more than Chen and Wu ever did. In terms of Chen Xianzhang's
teachings, farming also gave a new literal meaning to the term "self
acquisition." And again this kind of self-acquisition was contrasted to
the behavior of unscrupulous individuals at court who literally acquired
from others. Despite important differences all literati who chose to
retreat shared the same general awareness that the court and officialdom,
and increasingly the bulk of the literati class, had lost their moral bearings
and were being swept along with a tide of greed. Increasingly, they
believed morality was only to be found among those people with common
status and few desires, and they too chose the life of a commoner and
discarded any ambitions for status or comfort. It was the asceticism
imposed by the life-styles of the farmer, the scholar-recluse, and the
mountain hermit which was the single most important factor qualifying
them as a moral paths.
The association seen between asceticism and morality on the part
of these literati was also expressed to some degree in their behavior as
filial sons, for filial piety also involved a substantial degree of self-denial.
Living in a thatched hut in the mountains was really a natural extension
of mourning in a lean-to at the grave side. We have seen how frequently
141
one led to another. And in either circumstance, literati clung to their
self-denial, for this was the source of moral potency. Thus in his lean-to
Luo Lun refused to eat tasty food when mourning for his parents, and in
his thatched hut refused to accept grain to alleviate his poverty. Food
and its restriction was a primary means for ascetic practice. Many filial
sons all but stopped eating while in mourning. When living in a hut by
Kui Mountain, Xie You restricted himself to one meal every two days.
Dwelling in extremely humble living quarters was also emblematic of
virtue. If we read the references to recluse literatus' dilapidated dwellings
alone, we can easily see to what extent asceticism was seen by them and
their biographers as the central motif of reclusion. Lastly, humble clothing
was central to the ascetic/moral spirit of retreat, especially in such a
society which had strict regulations governing the kind of clothing allowed
to those in different social stations. This spirit of self-denial, in tandem
with the attendant contempt for luxury and profit-seeking is most likely
why we find the avoidance of towns a recurring theme in the biographies
of Chen Xianzhang and other literati with reclusive tendencies. When
Chen Yong locked himself up behind closed doors, the records add that
he did not enter any towns.136 On his way home to mourn his parents,
Zhang M ou also avoided entering any towns.137 Chen Xianzhang’s
disciple, Li Kongxiu d.u.), did not enter a town for twenty
years.138 In fact, merely living in an out-of-the-way place in fifteenth
century China would entail a life of considerable hardship.
136"Zhoutong Chen Bingchang xiansheng Shengyong," 105.

aiMingshi, Vol. 16,4752.
138Huang Zongxi, "Buyi Li Baozhen xiansheng Kongxiu," Mingru xuean,

Vol. 1,105.
142
The Distress of Wordlessness
Just as they shared his critique of contemporary culture, so too

did Chen's disciples and close friends share his mistrust of the written
word. We know that even for Chen there were limits to this mistrust
arising from his commitment to teach others. His disciples had similar
pedagogical commitments, namely the burden of transmitting their
teacher's doctrine and moral insights, a task which became even more
pressing given the critical state of the world. After Chen's death some
chose to accomplish this by depending upon the written word. This
would likely have been condemned by Chen, not because the words
were unacceptable, particularly in the case of Chen's poetry which was
collected and published by Zhan Ruoshui, but because he would reject
the suggestion that students could gain moral insight by reading, Chen's
words, the Classics, or anything else. This is the reason why Chen used
words all the time, wrote poetry and other things, and yet insisted that
his teaching was wordless. As we have already seen, Zhan Ruoshui
softened the anti-textual tenor of Chen’s teachings. One could argue that
it was not necessarily due to his more conservative temperament, doctrinal
disagreement, or lack of understanding, but to the practical exigencies
arising from his commitment to being a loyal disciple and transmitting
Chen’s teachings. And if we can fault Zhan for lack of fidelity to
Chen's doctrine and for not using a wordless fly whisk in order to
instruct his students, then we can fault Chen Xianzhang on the same
grounds as well.
143
Zhan was not the only disciple to feel the need to transmit Chen's
wisdom and edit a collection of his writings. Zhang Xu also edited
Baisha xiansheng yiyan zuanyao [The Collected Essentials
of Mister Baisha's Bequeathed Words]. Perhaps because Zhang did not
restrict his collection to Chen Xianzhang's poetry, for which Chen had
provided some theoretical justification, he exhibits much more distress
than Zhan Ruoshui when explaining his own enterprise. In his preface
to the collection, Zhang Xu attempts to grapple with the apparent
contradiction of transmitting a wordless teaching in words. Like Chen
himself, Zhang must make allowance for "acceptable" words in order to
validate his enterprise. He begins the preface by making a crucial
distinction between "pure" words worthy of writing and transmission
and "impure" ones which are not. Why he cannot use Chen's qualification
o f "self-acquired" is clear. For the reader of the collection whom he
addresses, and even more poignantly, for himself, the words presented
in the book were naturally acquired by someone else. Zhang writes:
There are authentic and unauthentic Confucians, therefore

there are pure and impure words. The Six Classics and the
Four Books are the expressions of Dao by authentic sages
and worthies. They are what are called pure words and
there is nothing greater. Elaborating on these, books like
those of Lian [Zhou Dunyi] and Luo [the Cheng brothers]
are pure or close to purity and deserve to be appended to
the Classics. Moreover their enlightening the ignorance of
ten-thousand generations makes them indispensable to the
world even for one day.
Coming to the end of the sages and the obscuration
of their words, the writings of various schools arose....
They concealed the great Dao and eclipsed heaven and
human nature. Nothing was worse than this. If they are
not washed away with rivers and oceans and blown away
144
by a great wind, there can be no access to the Dao. Therefore
our Mr. Baisha arose in the Southeast and preached the
Dao for over forty years. He mostly used a wordless teaching
to show people in order that they may correct their defect
of lacking authenticity and cultivate themselves. His eternal
words are: "Kongzi was the great sage and he desired not to
speak. Later Confucians never approached the sages and
anxiously engaged in writing. And are they alone in this?
Although the character 'wordless' is also writing, it can be
transcendently realized and self-attained, and therefore is
the greater part of comprehension of the Dao. Therefore
the Six Classics and Four Books are also but superfluous
language (yu f j g ) , let alone the other [books]." Yet those of
this generation who always urged Mr. [Chen] to write, and
those who belittled him for his lack of writings, have not
yet comprehended at all. Now [Chen's] collected poems
have appeared, and people are scurrying to pursue it in
poetry. [Chen's] collected works have appeared and people
are scurrying to pursue it in writing. They don't have the
vision of Jiu Fangkang,139and those who can acquire spirit
beyond external form are few indeed.
Reading up to this point, it is hard to imagine that Zhang Xu is actually

arguing for the necessity of making a new collection of his teacher's
writings. The closer he comes to introducing his own work the farther it
seems he is from persuading the reader that it is necessary or even
acceptable. His own distress is evident in the way he abruptly shifts to a
new line of thought just as he is about to broach the subject of his own
book. The preface continues:
I am sincerely worried that later practitioners will again
139A character found in the Liezi, Huainanzi and other early writings often
cited by Chen Xianzhang in his allegories for reading. Jiu was known for his ability
to choose good horses by seeing their spirit and not their external appearance. The
line which follows alludes to this ability, but in this case refers to attaining the Dao
outside of words.
145
sink into taking wordlessness as the Dao. Because of this I
have collected phrases (yu) from Mr. [Chen's] collected
w orks.... Although Mr. [Chen] used a wordless teaching,
he was never without words. The words he used always hit
the mark. They were pure and not impure because their
root was authentic. They can attend the Classics of the
sages and supplement the transmissions of the worthies.140
Zhang Xu is of course conscious of the contradictions he is trying to

smooth over. This is why he, very intelligently I think, incorporates a
quote from Chen Xianzhang to the effect that Kongzi's endorsement of
"wordlessness" itself was words preserved in writing. By showing that
Chen was aware of the contradiction and nevertheless endorsed the
written word "wordlessness," then by extension transmitting Chen's self
acquired words in written form would appear acceptable. The problem
of the reader's acquisition remains unsolved, however. It can be argued
that when Chen Xianzhang read "wordless" in the Lunyu he had already
acquired Kongzi's insight by and from himself. But what of the reader
of Chen's writings? This is exactly the point of distress for Zhang. He
thereupon discovers a new pedagogical role for Chen's w ritings-they
will keep people from sinking into wordlessness! Hardly what Chen
Xianzhang had in mind, we can be sure.
The distress that Zhan Ruoshui and Zhang Xu encountered with
Chen's doctrine and the need they felt to modify it was shared to some
extent by all those who studied with Chen and/or shared his anti-textual
orientation. While most of them would accept the suggestion that they
would profit morally by discarding words, none felt comfortable with
,40Zhang Xu, "Baisha xiansheng yiyan zuanyao xu,HMingru xuean, Vol. 1,

94-5.
146
doing away with them entirely. Zhan Ruoshui and Zhang Xu were
committed to the ideas of their teacher and were bound to transmit his
teachings. So the distress they felt was unavoidable. This was not the
case for Chen's friends and the majority of disciples who chose not to
become teachers themselves. Some were released from the burden of
trying to make words acceptable, and saw them as superfluous. Just as
they discarded the superfluous life-style of the capital by retreating to
the mountains, so did they discard superfluity of words.
More commonly, Chen's associates treated words as they did the
material necessities of life, keeping them to a bare minimum. Chen
Maolie said: "Confucians have moral effort to advance higher, poetry
and literature are worthless rushes."141 Zhang Mou also dismissed literary
composition saying: "A minor branch. I have no time for it." This
desire to weed out superfluous words extended to philosophical discourses
and scholarship on the Classics. Not necessarily that these were in
themselves seen as lacking in value, but since Song Confucians had
already elucidated the Classics, any new writing would only be redundant.
W hen someone encouraged Zhang Mou to do scholarly writing, he said,
"The words o f former Confucians reached the utmost, to weed out what
is superfluous is permissible."142 To weed out the superfluous was also
necessary in order to concentrate on the essentials. For instance, He Qin
rejected broad reading and instead devoted himself exclusively to the
Six Classics, Four Books, and Zhu Xi's Xiaoxue /Jn|§ [Elementary
Education].143 He Qin was not able to discard the Classics, however,
141Huang Zongxi, "Yushi Chen Shizhou xiansheng Maolie," 103.
1A1Mingshi, Vol. 16,4752.
147
something he could do according to Chen Xianzhang. Again however,
he was concerned with weeding out the unessential words: "When reading,
pursue the large meaning; there is no need to become entangled amid
the trivialities of the commentaries."144 Among Chen Xianzhang's friends
and disciples, therefore, we do not see anti-textual rhetoric as nearly as
radical as that of Chen Xianzhang's, though we clearly see his influence.
It seems they were unwilling to leave the individual entirely to his
spontaneous expressions without the guidance of exterior standards,
especially given that the world had degenerated to such a degree. I
think this especially remained a concern for those literati who had ample
political experience fighting evil in the trenches, so to speak. Officials
like Luo Lun and Zhuang Chang not only fought the pursuit of profit
which pervaded the court, but they were also utterly defeated. The
Classics may have remained for them the last stronghold with which to
mould the minds of a new generation and thereby stem the tide.
In Luo Lun we find the desire to weed around the Classics, but
keep the Classics themselves intact. Although he appreciated and largely
accepted the premise that the written word cannot be relied upon for
moral edification, he nevertheless could not agree that the Classics were
superfluous. Luo's more conservative stance and his refusal to replace
the standards of the Classics with the standards of mind is reflected in
his manner of reclusion which he spent in classical studies. Luo also
remained concerned about and active in education, and tellingly he makes
his argument for the Classics in a preface to a textbook collection for the
““He Qin, "Yanxing lu," 100.
148
Fuzhou provincial school.
To "complete one's nature," writes Luo, is the acme of learning.
The sages wrote the Classics in order to accomplish this, and they can
and must be used as a pedagogical aid to help students cultivate their
innate moral qualities. His unquestioning endorsement of classical
writings, however, leaves him in dilemma opposite to that encountered
by Zhang Xu, for then Luo feels compelled to provide a warning lest the
students sink into the trap of written words. In his preface then, Luo
lists the various literary activities in which the nature is not to be found:
etymology (xungu), literary composition (cizhang), training for the
examinations in order to pursue fame and profit (Luo felt that men
corrupted the examination system, not the other way around.). Luo
continues in his preface: "Kongzi said, '1 wish not to speak,1because he
feared people would depart from the root." Nevertheless, when one
examines the sage kings and the virtuous ministers of antiquity, and the
great teachers from Kongzi to Zhu Xi, Luo notes, "Did they not speak?"
Therefore Kongzi's pronouncement that he wishes not to speak must
yield to the imperative: "Those who are moral must speak." Luo Lun
and Kongzi must speak, not only because they are moral, but because
the world is not. It is noteworthy in this regard that Luo Lun the Hanlin
remonstrator finds sanction for words in the ministers of antiquity, who
are rarely found sandwiched in between the sage-kings and Kongzi in
Confucian discourse. Like Zhang Xu, then, Luo concludes with a kind
of litmus test for language to ascertain its suitability. "If words are not
classic (yan zhi bu jing they are discardable."145 This is the
14SLuo Lun, "Fuzhou fuxue chongzheng zhushu xu," Yifeng wenji, 2.2b-2.4a.
149
standard that Luo believed should measure all literature, including poetry.
Thus according to him poetry should be judged according to ritual and
righteousness, not loftiness or depth.146 His position on literature mirrors
that of Song Daoxue quite closely. He invokes their criticism of Ouyang
Xiu and Han Yu, the literary giants favored by Grand Secretary Yang
Shiqi, warning that their use of words to pursue the Dao is a flawed
enterprise. In contrast, Zhou Dunyi, Zhang Zai, the Cheng brothers, and
Zhu Xi all have "the literature of King Wen and Kongzi." For Luo, as it
was for Zhu Xi, literature was a matter of order and priority: "In the
learning of the sages and worthies, the mind is on Dao, not literature.
The Dao is completed in one's self and then literature manifests by
itself."147 Here Luo Lun reminds us that Daoxue, despite being sanctioned
by the state, provided literati who were extremely critical of the culture
of the political center with a powerful tool for political protest. This
was especially true when grand secretaries continued to find it in there
interests to incorporate a guwen position. Recall that Yang Rong made
the claim the it was Ouyang Xiu who transmitted the literature of Kongzi.
Zhuang Chang was probably the closest to Chen Xianzhang in
beliefs and temperament, and his writings reveal a much more radical
stance than Luo Lun and even many of Chen Xianzhang's disciples.
Zhuang was much more willing to find words superfluous and felt no
need to protect the status of the Classics. In his poetry we find references
to the Classics as "chaff"148 following Chen Xianzhang and Zhuangzi,
146"Jingyan shiji xu," ibid., 3.23b-3.24a.

147"Nanfeng wenji xu,"ibid, 2.4-2.5b.
148Zhuang Chang, "Ti Jingxue juan, Dingshan j i , 2.21b
150
and as "footnotes to myself"149following Lu Jiuyuan (1139-92).150
Most importantly, and I think this was true for Chen Xianzhang as well,
Zhuang believed this radical anti-textual stance was entirely consistent
with the "learning of Zhu Xi" which he claimed could not be found in
the Classics or the commentaries.151 Using almost exactly the same
form of argument as Luo Lun, Zhuang argues to the opposite effect, that
is, the primacy of wordlessness.
Kongzi said: "I wish not to speak" and "Does heaven

speak?"... Is it only Kongzi who wished not to speak?
The "hold fast to the mean" of Yao and Shun is also wordless.
Yanzi's "not transgressing all day like an idiot" and Mengzi's
"pursue the lost mind" are also wordless. Down to Zhouzi's
[Zhou Dunyi] "enlightenment, comprehension, impartiality,
and universality,"152 and Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi's "reading is
not as good as meditating." Do they also have any words?
W hile Luo Lun sees the history of Confucianism as marked by the

words of moral men, Zhuang hears their silent teaching.
Although he insisted that "the root of authentic joy is in forgetting
words,"153Zhuang was nevertheless an avid poet. Like Chen Xianzhang,
his poetry is filled with the phrases of Song Daoxue'. taiji, huopo, taixu,
and the like, as well as, with unintended irony, praising the value of
149"Cangshu shi," ibid, 3.5a.

1S0Chen Xianzhang's poetry is often classed along together with that of Zhuang
Chang as the "Chen-Zhuang style."
lslIbid, 2.22.
1S2Zhou Dunyi's words are quoted in Fung Yu-lan, A H istory o f Chinese
Philosophy, Vol. 2, Derk Bodde, trans. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1983),
448.
1S3"Liutang chunyi," Dingshanji, 1.1a.
151
wordlessness in verse. Like his friend, Zhuang ultimately betrayed an
attachment to words despite his rhetoric, and still felt some distress at
completely surrendering the word over to mind. Although in his writings
he comes down squarely on the priority of mind, in the end one is led to
believe that books are what lend value to mind. This results in some
rather odd locutions. Consider the following:
All books are not the same. There are the books of my
mind and there are the books of the page. The books of my
mind are the spirit of my mind and they are the Dao of my
mind. Books of the page are not like this. They are not the
books of my mind, but only the books of my mind rendered
into language (yanyu). They are not the Dao of my mind,
but only the Dao of my mind consigned to written characters
(wenzi). How can books compile [this Dao]?154
In a sense this whole paragraph is an elaboration of a metaphorical

construction first coined by Lu Xiangshan, "the Classics are footnotes to
the self," where the self is given the metaphorical status o f a text. In
Zhuang's elaboration, the mind is given the metaphorical value of a
book (or perhaps a library). Even though Zhuang dismisses the Classics
as they exist on paper, he still needs the Classics to substantiate the
value of the mind. In the following comments, Zhuang does not use the
term "mind," but it is inferred and he is using the same trope: "Of the
Six Classics, none is greater than the Change [Classic]... but when yin
and yang came to be transmitted on paper, then the Change [Classic]
began to disperse."155 Here the value of the Change Classic for Zhuang
1S4"Daliang shuyuan ji," ibid, 8.21b.
152
as it exists or existed in the mind before being rendered into writing, or
alternatively, the value of the mind which contains the Change Classic,
is rhetorically substantiated by the first line, "Of the Six Classics, none
is greater than the Change [Classic]," in which Change clearly refers to
the written book.
We can only wonder what final form Chen's teachings would

have taken if he had passed the examinations on his first attempt. Given
the domination of the government and literary circles by the likes of the
Three Yangs and the status of literary talent ever since the Yongle reign,
it is doubtful that such a strong denunciation of the written word could
have been articulated at this time by anyone in the political center. The
case of Chen Xianzhang reminds us of the important role political
marginalization had in the formation of Ming literati culture and adds
some interesting shading to Andrew Flaks' observation that there is "a
direct correlation between extremism of literary advocacy and uncertainty
of political and social status."156 Chen's failure in the civil service
examinations and the sense of personal crisis and m arginalization
influenced Chan's acute recognition of severe national crisis and the
culture of profit which was its source. This recognition also informed
his particular manner of retreat. For if the defect in the world was
rooted in each person desiring things for himself, then he would desire
nothing and discard all. Chen Xianzhang's contempt for profit-minded
culture and his embracing of an ascetic life-style were important
1S5Ibid, 8.22a.
1S6Andrew Plaks,77/e Four Masterworks o f the Ming Novel (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1987), 30.
153
ingredients in his later rejection of the written word. Everything that
could be discarded should be discarded, all the writings of past and
present, and in the end all that remains is what cannot be discarded and
that is what is ziran.
Luo Lun's desire to restrict reading and writing to that which was
"classical" conforms to his moral fulfillment as a filial son and his
determination not to eat any flavorful food. Eating, like reading, is for
sustenance and not pleasure. His subsequent life-style, a farmer by day
and a scholar by night as it were, also reveals a determination to "discard"
the cultural and literary superfluities which encumbered literati who had
sold righteousness for a profit. Chen Maolie and Zhuang Chang discarded
political office, the polite social gatherings, the arts, the gardens, all
those spiritual-sensual enjoyments that were part of Ming literati life.
They discarded their identities as literati, literally, and became commoners,
farmers. That is, they discarded every thing that made them literati,
except one. They never were able to discard the word.
This is what ultimately distinguished Chen Xianzhang, and later,
W ang Yangming, from Chan Buddhists. The dilemma for Chan was
how to do away with the word. Thus we have the fly whisk, drinking
water, etc.. For Chen Xianzhang and his circle, the real dilemma was
not how to get rid of the word, but how to keep it. Chen, directly or
indirectly with Buddhism's help it must be admitted, had no difficulty
giving a cogent and persuasive explanation for why words had to be
discarded. The difficulty came when he needed to retain them.
154
Chapter 3
W ords and M orality: the Politics and Poetics of
Li Bongyang and the Seven M asters
In 1488 Zhu Yutang (r. 1488-1505), the Hongzhi emperor, ascended

the throne, to the great relief of many upright officials. Zhu Yutang
repudiated the moral excesses of his father, allowed a purge of the most
ignoble officials of the former reign, like Wan An, and readily accepted
the Confucian prescriptions heaped on him by an optimistic officialdom.
The glory years of good government which the Ming enjoyed under the
leadership of the Three Yangs were never quite recovered, however.
The emperor, though moral enough in his own comportment and willing
to accept the advice of his ministers, nevertheless lacked any resolve to
put a stop to the greed and corruption emanating from the empress and
her relatives. Still, the reign was a welcome respite from the rapid
deterioration of the Ming political order under Xiaozong's father and the
even sharper decline the dynasty would witness under the leadership of
Xiaozong's notorious son.
L i B ongyang's Poetics of the Political C enter
During these years of relatively good government, we see the

reappearance of a grand secretary cum literary doyen in the mold of
Y ang Shiqi. Li Dongyang (1447-1516) was an especially
significant figure because he was the last grand secretary in the Ming
155
dynasty who also commanded literary fashion. Li was a product of the
political and cultural center.1 Vigorously trained from infancy in the
literary arts, he was welcomed as a child prodigy at the Jingtai court. At
three years old he was presented to the Jingtai emperor to demonstrate
his calligraphy.2 He was called before the emperor again when he was
five. At seven he presented a lecture to the emperor on the Documents
Classic.3 Li passed the examinations to become a jinshi at age sixteen
and entered the Hanlin Academy as a compiler at the age of only eighteen.
He spent the next thirty-three years in the Hanlin Academy until he was
promoted to grand secretary and concurrent minister of Rites in 1498, a
post he retained until his retirement in 1513. A life-long literary adept,
connoisseur, and poetry critic, he is known as one of the greatest poets
of the mid-Ming period and founder of the Chaling school of poetry,
named for his hometown in Hunan.
As a poet-grand secretary, Li's views of literature closely
corresponded to those of Yang Shiqi in significant ways. In general, Li
favored the grand secretariat style, terming it "correct and therefore
balanced and magnanimous. It is illumined and not obscure, forthcoming
and not stagnant, and yet is eminently useful." Li viewed himself as a
continuer of the style and aspired to these qualities in his own work.
Confirming this orientation, writing in the grand secretariat style was
also exactly what he was accused of by his detractors. Liu Dajie says,
'Yoshikawa Kojiro emphasizes Li Dongyang's "humble origins," though I

find this less significant than the rarified environment of the capital where he passed
his formative years.
*Fa Sliishan, "Ming Li Wenzheng gong nianpu," Li Dongyang j i [Collected

Works of Li Dongyang] (Changsha: Yueli shushe, 1983), Vol. 3,4 9 7 .
3Li Dongyang, Li Dongyang j i , Vol. 3,498.
156
for instance, that "his [Li's] poetry is correct and elegant, crafted and
ornate, but is poor in content... similar to the grand secretariat style."
There is some disagreement over whether Li Dongyang was merely a
successor to the grand secretariat style or the initiator of the new poetic
movement to "revive the ancients" (fugu W&) associated most closely
with Li's disciple, Li Mengyang (1473-1529). Li Dongyang did
stress Tang styles too, however, saying that the defect with men of
letters in his day was that they had not revived the ancients (wei fit yu gu
The issue is clouded by the fact that Li Mengyang became
very critical of Li Dongyang while at the same time inheriting the bulk
of his poetics. We will discuss this more thoroughly in the following
section devoted to Li Mengyang. In any case, we can say a fugu mentality
was already imbedded in the grand secretariat style, and Li Dongyang
saw himself as continuing the great literary traditions of the past. He
was an especially great admirer of the poetry of Du Fu and Li Bai and
the prose of Han Yu and Ouyang Xiu. Like previous grand secretaries,
and in contrast to idealistic officials like Luo Lun, Li Dongyang ignored
the antagonism between guwen and Daoxue. In fact, he went one step
further by declaring them united in a grand literary tradition. Li claims
there are two kinds of literature, historical and classical. To this latter
group, he assigns the works of Han Yu, Zhou Dunyi, Zhang Zai, the
Cheng Brothers, and Zhu Xi. The historical tradition includes Sima
Guang (1019-86), Ouyang Xiu, as well as Zhu Xi for his Zizhi
tongjian gangmu [Outline of the Comprehensive Mirror
for the Aid of Government]. The only literati to have mastered both
4"Zeng yuyi Qian Si xu," Li Dongyang j i, Vol. 2,61.
157
traditions were Han Yu, Ouyang Xiu, and Zhu Xi who, as Li phrases it,
"compiled the great accomplishment."5 Li used literature to encompass
the two traditions of Daoxue and guwen. Though by making Daoxue a
branch of literature, he clearly prioritized the vehicle of the word and
essentially took a guwen position. Li Dongyang's tendency to subsume
moral concerns under literary issues and his overwhelming esteem for
the word is also reflected in his view of the Classics. Li determined that
the Six Classics "are all literature" (jie wen ye though in this
case wen likely means prose, since the exception to this is the Shijing,
which is "poetry."6
Li Dongyang's poetry and poetics reflected his years of literary
training at court and his status as a grand secretary. From early childhood
he knew that achievement was based on literary skill, a belief to which
his entire life subsequently conformed. As an erudite and literary adept,
his sensibilities naturally resembled those of the connoisseur, that is, his
tastes were extremely broad, acknowledging the differences in the
literatures of each age and yet also appreciating the distinctions. In this
respect he shared an emphasis on broad erudition with the Three Yangs.
It should be noted that Li Dongyang was also a Southerner and the
emphasis on broad erudition was not merely an affectation of the court,
but one of the characteristics of Suzhou poetics.7 His was a poetry and
poetics which transcended any one age or any one style, displaying a
^Huangdun wenji xu," ibid, 55-6.
6For Li's praise of these men and his claim that the Classics are literature,
see, for instance, his "Chunyutang gao xu," ibid, 37-8.
7Jian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu [A Study of Literary Criticism
of the Ming Dynasty] (Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1989), 206.
158
tolerance and magnanimity befitting an expansive vision commensurate
with his high position and status. In his own poetry, Li incorporated a
range of poetic sources from Tang to Yuan, and yet he denounced
imitation and, according to Qian Qianyi, still maintained his individual
style. These predilections were also manifested in his theories of poetry
which stressed mastery of the literary tradition, in this case owing much
to the Song poetry critic Yan Yu (Jlt3>] ca. 1200 - after 1270). Li
quotes Yan Yu approvingly: "If one does not read a lot of books and
entirely know moral principle, then one cannot write poetry."8 Elsewhere,
Li writes: "Poetry has two essentials: study and recognition (shi f§S0, that
is all."9 The importance of study in the writing of poetry for Yan Yu
and Li Dongyang is also expressed in their shared belief that the Tang
dynasty witnessed the golden age of Chinese poetry because at that time
poetry was part of the civil service examination curriculum.10
The contrast between the poetics of Li Dongyang and Chen
Xianzhang apparently could not be greater. Li Dongyang relies on
books as a source for poetic creation; Chen discards books entirely and
depends only on the poetic words flowing spontaneously from the mind.
Li Dongyang's relationship with the political center was alm ost
diametrically opposed to that of Chen Xianzhang as well. Li's powerful
position at court insured that his views on language and literature would
®Li Dongyang, "Jingchuan xiansheng shiji xu," Li Dongyang ji, Vol. 2, 115.
Yan Yu, "Shibian," Canglang shihua [Canglang's Talks on Poetry] (Taibei: Jinfeng
chubanshe, 1986), 34.
9"Taoxi zagao xu," Li Dongyang ji, Vol. 2, 118. "Recognition" is also a
key term for Yan Yu, see Canglang shihua, 16.
,0Li Dongyang, Huailutang shihua [Talks on Poetry from the Huailu Hall],
in Li Dongyang j i, Vol. 3,538. Yan Yu, "Shiping," Canglang shihua, 79.
159
be compatible with the proposition that the Dao was solidly manifested
in the government, the world, and most importantly in the written words
preserved in the literary tradition for which he was the caretaker. As a
grand secretary then, Li Dongyang exhibited a faith in the word and the
value of its mastery, for in large part it legitimized Ms status and position.
Here we see the formation of two clearly distinguishable value systems:
one at the political center extolling the virtues of the written word and
seeing the command of the literary tradition as the qualification for and
legitimation of political power; the other on the political margins valuing
the natural operation of the mind over literary skill and challenging the
conspiracy of power and word at the political center. The political and
social implications of tWs division are clear. The empowered elite value
those skills wMch take years of specialized training to perfect, for they
function to exclude most others and preserve their special status. Those
relegated to the political margins have no privileged status to maintain
and therefore value what is entirely common and theoretically accessible
to all. TMs position becomes a powerful critique of the political center
because the center is identified as lacking exactly those virtuous qualities
associated with the common and marginalized.
As compelling and useful as this distinction might be, the intricacies
of Chinese political culture will not allow us to make such clear-cut
distinctions without having to acknowledge a substantial list of caveats
and exceptions. The problem with defining center and margin in such a
way is analogous to the one we confront when attempting to define
Chen Xianzhang and his circle in terms of political retreat or political
engagement. In both cases the boundary between center and margin is
traversed often enough to remind us that in practice these distinctions
160
remained fluid. Still, the initial characterization of Chen Xianzhang's
poetics as a product of marginalization is, 1 think, accurate and useful.
This is not a characterization which can be profitably maintained
indefinitely, however. First there is always the intimate relationship
between center and margin in the sense that one creates the other. That
is, it was Chen's marginalization from the center and his concomitant
disenchantment with its values that largely prompted his search for new
values. Like Wu Yubi before him, and, as we shall see, Li Mengyang
and Wang Yangming after him, Chen's theories formed at the political
margin were a response to the political center. Another reason we
cannot indefinitely maintain the distinction of Chen's views as marginal
is due simply to the speed by which they began to impact, and thus
become integrated into, the culture of the political center. The makeup
of the political center was of course by no means homogeneous. As we
have seen, there were great divisions between the inner and outer courts,
and even between grand secretaries and Hanlin academicians. It is
significant that Chen Xianzhang's views did not remain restricted to the
fringe of the political center as embodied by the vociferous Hanlin
remonstrators, but became at least partly adopted by more entrenched
and powerful political personalities. I will argue that Li Dongyang was
just such a personality and that his mature poetics shows indications that
he actively integrated Chen's views.
While a Hanlin academician, Li Dongyang established a friendship
with Chen Xianzhang. Chen was almost twenty years Li's senior and
this no doubt colored their relationship. Although not recommended by
Li Dongyang, twice in Li's writings we find him lauding colleagues for
their attempts to gain Chen Xianzhang a post.11 After Chen left the
161
capital, he and Li Dongyang continued to correspond. When Chen's
mother died, Li wrote four poems in eulogy. Li Dongyang was also on
good terms with Chen's friends and disciples. He intervened at one
point on behalf of Zhuang Chang with the Ministry of Personnel so that
he would receive a post in the capital rather than an outlying region.12
He corresponded with Zhang Mou, and he wrote the spirit road stele
inscription for Chen Yin's tomb.13 Li also presented Zhan Ruoshui with
a poem on the eve of his departure as envoy to represent the Ming court
at the investiture of the King of Annam in 1511.14 Another fact indicative
of the close relationship between Chen and his group and Li Dongyang
was the fact that they shared disciples in common. Zhuang Chang's
disciple, Shao Bao 1460-1527), who later became Li Dongyang's
counterpart when he was promoted to minister of Rites in Nanjing, also
became Li Dongyang's disciple as well, his own poetry described as
"classical, stately, harmonious, and elegant," the rhetoric normally
associated with the Li Dongyang and the grand secretariat style.15 As
we shall see, Shao Bao was not the only literati with a moral bent who
was attracted to Li Dongyang.
Li Dongyang himself, however, was not an official with a strong
uLi Dongyang ji, Vol. 2,232; Vol. 3,252.

1JZhuang Chang, Dingshan j i [Collected Works of Zhuang Chang], Siku
quanshu, Vol. 1254(Taibei: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1979), Vol. 3, "buyi," [supplement],
4a.
13Li Dongyang j i, Vol. 3,249-50.

Biography (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), 37. The poem can be
found inL/Dongyang ji, Vol. 1, 585.
lsZhang Tingyu, ed., Mingshi [The Official Ming History], 28 Vols. (Beijing:
Zhonghua shuju, 1987), Vol. 24,7246.
162
sense of moral idealism and political purpose which distinguished Chen's
other friends in the capital. It seems it was not Chen's moral stature
which attracted Li, but his poetry, and it was in this regard as well that
Chen most influenced him. In Li's most well-known collection of poetry
criticism, the Huailutang shihua [Discussions of Poetry from
the Huailu Hall], we find Mm praising Chen Xianzhang's poetry and
lamenting that it is never included in collections.16 As far as Chen's
influence on Li Dongyang's poetics is concerned, we can mention several
areas where Li's views appear close to those of Chen Xianzhang and
departs from the ideas of Yang Shiqi. In the Huailutang shihua, Li
includes an approbatory reference to a theory of poetry he ascribes to
Chen Xianzhang: "In Ms discussions of poetry Chen Gongfu [Xianzhang]
concentrated exclusively on sound and thereby was most able to acquire
the essential."17 In Ms discussions of individual poems written by Chen
Xianzhang in the same work, we find it is also the sound-rhyme quality
of Chen's poetry which Li finds so appealing.18 The need to focus on
the sound or "rhythm" (diao H or shengdiao of the poem became a
central tenet in Li Dongyang's own poetics, much more important than it
ever was for Yan Yu. Li prized ancient poetry, for instance the yuefu of
the Han, for its "spontaneous sound." He claimed that later poets tried
to imitate their accents, characters and lines, and thereby lost their personal
nature (.xingqing). Instead of imitation, or literal reading, Li advocates
listening to the sounds of a poem as one recites it, and equates tMs with
16Huailutang shihua, 545-6.
17Ibid„ 533.
18Ibid., 545-6.
163
self-acquisition: "If one recites them [poems] again and again, after a
long while then it will be acquired by oneself. Acquired in the mind
and expressed in sound...."19 From these lines we can see that Li
Dongyang's concentration on the sound or rhythm as the essential element
of a poem was opposed to concentration on its formal aspects. Li
clarified this in the distinction he made between the regulations of tone
and meter (lu W) and rhythm. Fidelity to regulations involves skill, but
rhythm demands genius:
Lu is what are called rales, but rhythm involves genius. If

one does not apprehend it in the mind and through the
spirit, and attain it for oneself, then even though one is
taught it day after day it will be of no help.20
For those who concentrated on formal aspects of lu and the word, tediously
"crafting" (gong X ) them into a poem, they lose the "authenticity of
Heaven" (tianzhen X E ).21 In contrast, the way to attain rhythm or
"spontaneous sound" is the same way Cheng Hao read poetry: by reciting
it, that is, soaking up the sounds while purposely ignoring the formal
elements. In the vocabulary Li uses to discuss poetry we can repeatedly
hear echoes of Chen Xianzhang's views, especially the contrast between
concentration on the formal elements of writing and the need to transcend
form in order to "acquire for oneself." In a nutshell, Li Dongyang
appears to agree with Chen that the essential lies "outside of form."
The devaluation of the written character not only meant for Chen
19Ibid„ 530.
“ Ibid., 539.
21Ibid., 531.
164
Xianzhang that morality could not be acquired through books but also
that morality did not necessarily reside in the lettered class. Li Dongyang's
emphasis on rhythm which was natural and could not be taught in any
case, opened up the possibility that the common man could be a poet.
Yoshikawa Kdjiro stresses Li Dongyang's humble origins, and in the
exam ples of Li's poetry which he provides he reinforces this
characterization by privileging those poems in which Li exhibits a
sympathetic regard for the common folk.22 The following passage shows
Li Oongyang flirting with the theme of the common man as natural poet
versus the strained literati. He begins by citing Yan Yu:
"Poetry has other material which has nothing to do with

books. Poetry has other interest which has nothing to do
with moral principles. Yet if one does not read a lot of
books and completely illumine moral principles, then one
cannot write [poetry]."23 Those who discuss poetry do not
treat this as easy. Common men, base servants, and women
and children have authentic emotions and real intentions
which are unconsciously harmonious and balanced. They
certainly are not taught. Yet the so-called poets and scholar-
literati tire their minds and deplete their energies, and turn
old without ever being able to acquire its subtlety.24
The last three sentences taken by themselves present a remarkably positive
22The best example is "On a Painting of Fish Being Caught," in Yoshikawa

Kojiro, Five Hundred Years o f Chinese Poetry, 1150-1650, John Timothy Wixted,
trans. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989), 133. We also find the trope of
the chaste widow who refuses to remarry praised in Li's writings. See his "Shu muo
jiefu shi," Li Dongyang j i, Vol. 3, 176-7. This is is the true tale of a woman who
refuses to marry despite the ruse of her two degenerate sons to give her to a rich,
unscrupulous merchant.
^ h e s e lines are again cited from Yan Yu with some minor modifications.
For the original, see the note on Yan Yu above.
uHuailutang shihua, 539.
165
characterization of common people, granting them the claim to
authenticity—notably the criterion which Luo Lun used to identify proper
language. By extension, they have the gift of poetry for Li, not necessarily
a verbal gift, but quite possibly the spontaneous rhythm he talks about
elsewhere. If Li Dongyang had not restricted his discussion here to
poetry, these claims would have been remarkable indeed, not because
they were unknown at the time, but because they were uttered by a
grand secretary. As they stand, Li Dongyang's words here almost qualify
to be ranked with Chen Xianzhang's claim that every common person
has a Shijing in his/her breast. Here we have to say "almost" because in
the first few lines of the above passage Li Dongyang nevertheless sounds
exactly like the grand secretary that he was. To write poetry one has to
read books, lots of books. Common people then cannot possibly write
poetry, only literati can. Or perhaps, given what he says here about
literati, only a few literati can. So rather than allowing for the possibility
that authentic emotions, authentic morality, and authentic poetry may
reside with the masses, Li Dongyang is really taking a swipe at his
fellow literati.
Just at the point where Li appears to depart from Chen's views,
however, we find new elements of agreement, after all. Just as Chen
Xianzhang viewed the morality of the literati class as degenerate, Li
Dongyang despaired over what he considered the decline of poetic
standards in his day. Thus the object of his criticism was much the
same as Chen Xianzhang's, and perhaps for this reason, so was his
rhetoric. I think that is how we should read Li Dongyang's invocation
o f the common crowd here, as a rhetorical device meant to show by
comparison the sorry state to which literati have descended. I do not
166
think that Li Dongyang would agree that the foremost defect of
contemporary poetry was that it lacked the authentic emotion found
among the common people. More likely he would find that most poetry
is inferior because it is rather too common, the result of poets not having
read enough books. Superior poetry for Li is anything but common. To
cite his metaphors, it is like a precious treasure, pure gold and beautiful
jade, and like fine delicacies, bear paws and the like.25 Ultimately Li
Dongyang incorporates the rhetoric of the demos in order to articulate
an elitist position.
Li Dongyang was particularly distressed with the "vulgarity" (su
of contemporary poetry. It is hard to pinpoint exactly what he
means by "vulgar," though it is significant that he contrasted it with
"ancient." Now "ancient" can mean a certain simplicity that in turn can
be ascribed to the common people, and indeed we are reminded that a
good bit of the Shijing are collected folk songs. W e also have to keep in
mind that for a Ming poet the "ancient" only existed to the extent it was
mediated through words. So again, "vulgar" sounds a lot like a lack of
erudition. Instead of really having mastered the ancients, Li felt that
poets of his day merely used a cursory knowledge of the literary tradition
to try to augment their own feeble attempts at versification. Consider
the following discussion:
The people in the capital make a kind of wine using ashes.

It stings the nose and bites the tongue. Ten-thousand recipes
have the same flavor. Southerners make fun of it. Zhang
Rubi calls it Yanjing Amber. Only wine made with an
expert method can escape this flavor. Customs change of
^ b id ., 538; 548.
167
themselves. Even though people get the [expert] recipe,
they cannot get the same result [and the wine still tastes
awful]. I have compared this to poetry. If it is all vulgar
characters (suzi) and vulgar lines (suju) like the flavor of
Yanjing Amber, and cannot escape from this, then how can
it be touched up with the expert method of the high Tang?26
If we want to try to pinpoint who were the vulgar literati, I do not think
it is at all irrelevant that Li Dongyang used the analogy of Northern
wine-makers in the capital. Elsewhere Li says directly that there are
few good poets from the North and that the best poets come from
Jiangnan and Guangdong. I think it shows as well that his notion of
"vulgar" probably meant something close to "uncultured" and indeed
this was most apparent when it came to letters. In the following discussion
of various poetic styles, Li in fact explicitly connects the term "vulgar"
with lower social status, and by extension, a lower educational and
cultural level:
Poetry written by licentiates which does not escape vulgarity

is called the "commoner hat style." Poetry written by monks
which does not escape vulgarity is called the "vegetarian
style." Verse about the woman's quarters which is overly
pretty is called the "feminine style" [literally "face powder
style"]. If it can escape these three styles then it is not
vulgar. As for poetry with the classical regulations of the
court, it is called the "grand secretariat style." Poetry with
the tranquility of reclusion is called the "style of mountains
and forests." Of these two styles, [good poetry] must have
one, and cannot be without.27
“ Ibid., 542.
27Ibid., 545.
168
This last paragraph is a nice illustration of the tension between the grand
secretariat style and the heavy influence of Chen Xiamzhang that we find
in the poetics of Li Dongyang. Li obviously felt he did not have to
reconcile the tension. The language of the grand secretary and the
language of the recluse could easily alternate within an oevre whose
breadth matched the grand literary tradition of which it was a part. The
place where tension is never fully resolved, however, is in Li's poetics,
for the practice of these two kinds of poetry styles would appear to
involve very different sensibilities. For a man we have heretofore
described as exalting the written word and thereby also legitimizing his
own position at the political center, his incorporation of Chen Xianzhang-
like elements—the devaluation of the formal elements of writing, the
rhetoric of the common man, and the ennobling of the poetry of those
who decline to participate in the culture and politics of the center-m ay
appear to be a substantial retreat from that position. I think it is a more
accurate perception if we see diverse elements existing side by side in
Li's poetics which were not all theoretically compatible. In his treatment
o f Daoxue and guwen we saw that Li was especially adept at smoothing
over inconsistencies and we would have to add that his tolerance of
diverse poetic styles also displayed itself in a tolerance of diverse poetics.
Nevertheless, we can see that Li privileged certain kinds of poetry and
by extension privileged certain poetics. Just as he ultimately privileges
guwen over Daoxue, Li also privileges the grand secretariat style over
that of the recluse. Li acknowledges as much when he says that "writing
recluse poetry is easy, writing grand secretariat poetry is difficult."28
“ Ibid., 549.
169
The implication here is that good poetry in the grand secretariat style is
the sign of a true adept, and as we know, this is how Li viewed himself.
By implication, privileging the grand secretariat style means a privileging
of a literature-centered poetics, because the sources of the language of
the grand secretariat and the recluse are quite different. One is a distillation
of the literary tradition, the other a spontaneous expression, epitomized
by the poetry of the two poetic figures emblematic of reclusion, Qu
Yuan and Tao Qian. While Li Dongyang could accept the proposition
of zide, self-acquisition, he could never accept ziran, spontaneity, because
it would cancel out the very distinction between cultured poetry imbued
with the rhythm of the ancients and its vulgar imitators, between the
adept and the incompetent, which Li had to make in order to maintain
his self-proclaimed status as literary doyen.
While Li admired Chen Xianzhang's poetry and was influenced
by his poetics, he could not accept the implications of spontaneous
expression being more moral, nor could he accept the all-encompassing
role of the moral mind in poetry. He of course could not directly deny
the role of morality and dutifully paid lip service to it. He even used the
same fam iliar quote by Kongzi, linking it to the traditional view of
poetry as an extension of will found in the Great Preface: "A man's will
arises and is preserved in poetry.... Indeed, those who are moral must
speak...." Li, however, never gives morality the large position that this
statement implies. If he did so, it would be hard to condemn the poetry
of the majority of literati and not condemn them for moral degeneration
as well. Theoretically he could do so, especially given his praise for
the authentic emotions of the common people. Li however was not able
to say that the common people had morality/poetry and the bulk of
170
literati did not, because where would that then leave the grand secretariat?
Given the amount of remonstrance directed at the grand secretaries for
their moral lapses, to suggest that the grand secretariat was a bastion of
morality/poetry would have appeared untenable, and to suggest that
grand secretaries shared the moral characteristics of the common people
probably even more so. By virtue of who he was and where he was, Li
had to find another source for acceptable poetic language. This source
was not moral, but literary. And thus authentic language had to be
distinguished not by deciding who had access to authentic morality or
emotion or who were the real Confucians, but through distinguishing
the vulgar from the ancient.
Ancient did not mean the morality of the sages, but the superior
poetry of the past, exemplified by the poets of high Tang, especially Li
Bai and Du Fu. What was vulgar came from a lack of mastery of the
written tradition, and worse, an uncultivated imitation of that tradition.
Thus Li's stress on rhythm was a way at once to make the literary
tradition the source for good poetry and yet to claim that source to be
something natural. And by refusing to acknowledge that words themselves
were the source, he could claim a transcendent status for his own poetry
of the kind impossible to leam or imitate. In practice, by the way, Li
does not transcend words. In his shihua, for instance, we see that
determining the quality of a poem or which of two lines of poetry is
superior, though perhaps incorporating the rhetoric of transcendence,
always boils down to a choice of characters. Nevertheless, he recognized
the power of Chen Xianzhang's theory that value does not lie in words.
"Rhythm" allowed for this acknowledgment while simultaneously
maintaining the superiority of the grand secretariat style.
171
Li Dongyang’s virtual elimination of the function of morality in
his poetics also points to an aesthetic cast of mind whose concentration
was on the art itself and its relation to the larger artistic tradition. In Li
Dongyang’s collected poems are a group of five that stand out, first due
to their curious topic—a promise Li made to himself to quit writing
poetry—and also because the surprising metaphors Li uses to characterize
the writing of poetry.29 The first poem is written on the occasion of
illness. Li is taken to bed and his friends advise him not to write poetry.
W e are again reminded here that writing was considered potentially
harmful to the physical vitality, and thus ought to be avoided when
already weak. In bed Li happens to recite Tao Yuanming's poem "On
Abstaining from Wine" and muses that appetite for the cup "is similar to
this obsession [of poetry]." Li goes on to write his own poem, about his
failure to abstain from poetry, rhymed to Tao Yuanming's poem. The
first line reads: "All my life I've had an obsession for poetry, and even
when sick cannot abstain." In the following poems he continues to
invoke the analogy of the lover of wine, but also gives added reason
why poetry should be abandoned: "Numerous words only harm the
Dao, In the end humanity comes from the self." And in another one of
the poems: "Numerous words in the end add nothing, better to have
people depend on themselves." These words were written in 1478, long
before Li would become grand secretary, and like other aspects of his
poetics show the influence of Chen Xianzhang, or perhaps the growing
suspicion on the part of many that words had little to do with Dao, of
29The five poems appear in his collected works, Vol. 1, 138-140. The
lengthy title of the first begins with "I Rather Love to Write Poetry When I Am 111"
(Yu bing zhong po ai zuo shi).
172
which Chen was a principal spokesman. Surely we cannot take this
questioning of the value of poetry too seriously, the largest reason being
that Li Dongyang did not appear to take them very seriously himself.
These lines for him were not philosophy or even poetics, but merely
poetry, that is lines borrowed and composed for their immediate
appropriateness given the theme of abstention.
W hat we may consider seriously, however, is Li's use of the
metaphor of the drinker to describe the poet. We have seen that Li used
the metaphor of wine for poetry elsewhere, and his consistent use of the
metaphor highlights fundamental qualities of poetry writing from his
perspective. Comparing poetry to wine and his own attraction to poetry
as p i Ji, what I have rendered as "obsession" has gastronomic overtones,
we can see that for Li poetry was foremost a source of pleasure. There
was the psychological, almost visceral pleasure of imbibing in poetry,
yet the accompanying joy was not merely the reverie of the inebriate,
but finely nuanced by a keen sense of discrimination. This keen sense
added to the pleasure, for discrimination allowed for the proper enjoyment
of the most refined imperial potions as well as the brews of talented
moonshiners in the hinterlands, and, most importantly, made the likes of
Yanjing Amber entirely unpalatable. Li read and wrote poetry because
it gave him pleasure, not because it morally uplifted himself, or others.
On this score, as Li himself readily admits, his obsession is not defensible.
Fortunately, poetry, like wine, can only be properly enjoyed by those
with a cultivated and cultured discrimination. Thus the pleasure of
poetry is elevated from the level of appetite to the aesthetic, providing
the legitimation of transcendence.
While Li Dongyang could skirt the issue of morality in his poetics,
173
it was less easy to do so in politics, for there the dominant place of
morality could never be denied. As a man of the pen who by his own
admission lacked the expertise in government of his colleagues in the
grand secretariat, Li Dongyang was perhaps better suited for the untroubled
halcyon days of the early Ming. During Xiaozong's reign at least there
was an emperor happy to take on the appearance of a good Confucian
monarch and thus his closest advisors in the grand secretariat could
convincingly play the role of sagely and virtuous ministers without having
their commitment to moral principles questioned by zealous lower
officials. When the situation changed for the worse during the reign of
Xiaozong's son, grand secretaries once again found themselves the
intimate advisors to a lackadaisical emperor and participants in an even
more foul inner court. In hindsight, especially from the perspective of
his detractors, Li's lack of concern with morality in his poetics was an
ominous foreshadowing of his subsequent political behavior when he
chose to remain at the helm of a morally unseaworthy government.
If we had to name the fatal shortcoming of Xiaozong's son, Wuzong
(the Zhengde emperor, Zhu Houzhao r. 1506-1521) it would
have to be the fondness he had for the eunuchs who had entertained him
in the palace as a child, and continued to keep him entertained after he
ascended the throne at the age of fourteen. The emperor's fondness
gave one enterprising eunuch, Liu Jin ( f M d. 1510), the opportunity to
grab tremendous power. A Northerner from Shaanxi Province. Liu was
an attendant in the Eastern Palace, the residence of the heir apparent
before Wuzong took the throne. Liu was an admirer of Wang Zhen and
tried to emulate his success. After Wuzong became emperor, from his
position in the Bells and Drums Office, Liu, along with seven other
174
eunuchs, continued to keep the emperor amused.30 He gained the
emperor's confidence and was promoted to Director-general of the
Integrated Division, thus giving him authority over a corps of troops in
the capital. He continued to increase his own power, and eunuch power
in general, convincing the emperor to disregard the posthumous
instructions of emperor Xiaozong and allow armed eunuchs to guard the
city gates. Liu also worked to enrich the emperor, petitioning for the
confiscation of over 300 parcels of land and converting them to "imperial
estates" (huangzhuang).
Grand Secretaries Liu Jian g!Jli( 1433-1506), Xie Qian (1450-
1531), and Li Dongyang, fearing that the eunuchs were leading the
emperor to degeneracy, remonstrated against them, as did a growing
chorus of officials, but to no avail. Finally, an official in the directorate
of astronomy blamed Liu Jin for an abnormal fluctuation in the stars
(Liu Jin later had him beaten to death).31 This episode, and the continued
remonstrance of officials, nevertheless forced the emperor to relent and
have senior eunuchs hostile to Liu's faction meet with the grand secretaries
to consider transferring Liu to Nanjing-a tactic used previously to remove
eunuchs gone awry from further opportunities to gain too much power,
for instance Wang Zhi. Liu Jian was adamant that Liu Jin be executed,
however, and his position was supported by Liu Jin's powerful eunuch
rival Wang Yue rE S (d. 1506). The night before Liu Jian planned to
“ Amusements for the emperor included ball playing, horse riding, releasing
rabbits to be caught by falcons and hunting dogs, wrestling, song and dance, and
theatrical performances. Gu Yingtai, "Liu Jin yongshi," Mingshi jishi benmo [Roots
and Branches of Recorded Events in the Ming History] (Congshu jicheng, vol.
3923), 45. They also disguised the emperor and took him on secret excursions
outside the palace. Mingshi, Vol. 26,7786.
31Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,942-3.
175
lead the heads of all nine ministries to make the case for execution
before the emperor, Liu Jin was tipped off by Jiao Fang M (1436-1517),
the Minister of Personnel. That night the eunuchs led by Liu Jin visited
the emperor on a preemptive visit saying that they would be dead by
morning if the emperor did not act. Imminent defeat turned to victory
and a counter-coup was accomplished. It was Wang Yue and his cohorts
who were packed off to Nanjing, murdered on route. Liu Jin was
im m ediately promoted to head the m ost coveted Directorate of
Ceremonial. His confederates were made commanders of the Eastern
and Western Depots. With the tables turned in the morning, Liu Jian
and the other grand secretaries could do nothing but resign.
Liu continued to extend his power. One of the tactics he used to
usurp imperial authority was to present the emperor with official matters
while he was in the middle of some enjoyment. This only irritated the
emperor, who repeatedly asked not to be bothered. Within a mere two
years of the emperor's ascendancy to the throne, Liu claimed the authority
to promote and dismiss all military and civilian officials, issue imperial
edicts from his private residence, and receive all memorials to the throne.
Those who defied him were dismissed, imprisoned, or killed.32 Because
X ie Qian was from Yuyao, Liu disbarred all men from Yuyao from
positions in the capital. He increased provincial degree quotas for Shaanxi
by 35 (Liu's province) and Henan by fifteen (Jiao Fang's province),
Shanxi by twenty-five, Shandong by fifteen, Sichuan by ten, and decreased
the quotas for the two key southern provinces of Jiangxi and Zhejiang.33
32Ibid., 941-5.
33Ibid., 944.
176
After Liu Jin's coup, the three grand secretaries, Liu Jian, Xie
Qian, and Li Dongyang, all offered their resignations. Liu Jin forged an
imperial edict granting retirement to Liu Jian and Xie Qian but retained
Li Dongyang, because Xie and Liu had demanded Liu Jin's execution
while Li Dongyang "remained silent."34 The editors of the Official
Ming History agree that Li Dongyang was retained because his criticism
of Liu Jin was less vehement.35 It is said that when Li Dongyang wept
at the farewell banquet he held for Liu and Xie, Liu Jian said to him,
"Why are you crying today? The other day you could have spoken up
and so be leaving along with us." Li had no response.36 Immediately
after their departure, Jiao Fang (Mlir 1436-1517) was promoted to the
grand secretariat, as were other partisans of Liu Jin. It is said that Jiao
Fang wanted his son to place first in the examinations, but fearing it
would be too obvious, made him second.37 During Liu Jin's tenure the
schism between the Hanlin Academy and the grand secretariat reappeared.
In contrast to the grand secretariat which Liu Jin packed with his supporters,
the Hanlin Academy proved more unruly. It is recorded that Liu Jin
was particularly incensed that Hanlin members refused to bow to him.38
The emperor, discovering that affairs of state interfered with his leisure
activities ceded all government authority to Liu Jin. After this, Liu
began to draft imperial edicts from his residence. W hen these were
received by the grand secretariat, it is said they were praised by Li
34Mingshi jishi benmo , 47.
3SMingshi, Vol. 16,4822.

37 Ibid., 54.
38lbid., 59.
I ll
Dongyang and the others.39 Li Dongyang apparently maintained cordial
relations with Liu Jin and the eunuch group. He wrote the funeral odes
for the fathers of eunuchs.40 He also wrote the text of the stele
commemorating the construction of the Yuanzhen temple built by Liu
Jin outside the Chaoyang Gate.41 Li's supporters would argue that he
remained at his post in order to ameliorate Li Jin's excesses. Li Dongyang
was indeed responsible for saving some officials from Liu Jin's wrath,
most notably Yang Yiqing ($§—i f 1454-1530). His detractors would
accuse him of complicity, a charge made credible by Li Dongyang's
actions during Liu Jian's tenure. In any case, Li chose to remain at his
post and, especially after the promotion of Liu Jin's confederates to the
grand secretariat, this gave officials the overwhelming impression that
the grand secretariat stood with the eunuchs and the dark forces of the
inner court and not the outer bureaucracy.
Li Mengyang and the Renewed Pursuit of the Moral Word
One young official who joined Li Dongyang's poetry circle at the

beginning of Xiaozong's reign was Li Mengyang. In contrast to the
cooperative style of his teacher, Li Mengyang displayed a distinct moral
zealousness and a penchant for conflict with his superiors. Similar to
the Hanlin remonstrators of the previous reign, Li was especially intolerant
39Ibid., 50.
^ b id ., 57.
4,Ibid., 58.
178
of abuses committed by members of the inner court. In 1501, as a
customs inspector he tried to stop abuses by merchants and ran afoul of
eunuchs and imperial relatives who were conspiring with them. Li was
removed from his post, imprisoned, but eventually exonerated. In 1505,
Li submitted a long memorial of over 5,000 words listing abuses of
eunuchs and even relatives of the empress. One of the complaints was
against the practice of imperial relatives wresting control of farmland
owned by commoners. Li specifically mentioned the younger brother of
the empress, the earl of Shouning, Zhang Heling (d. 1537?)
whom he called a "winged tiger," for the ease with which he pounced on
his hapless prey. This kind of behavior was well known among officials
and about the same time we find an official associated with Chen
Xianzhang also making the same charge. Wu Shizhong (1490
j.s.), who recommended Chen Xianzhang to enter the grand secretariat a
few years previously, also memorialized against Zhang Heling. Zhang
and his mother, Lady Jin, repeatedly tried to have title of certain lands
near Beijing conferred on them. Wu memorialized the throne, criticizing
them for fighting with common people over a few meters of land. The
emperor refused to read the memorial.42 Perhaps because Li Mengyang
used more abusive language, Zhang Heling counterattacked and claimed
that when Li Mengyang wrote in his memorial that the emperor indulged
"Zhang shi" (3US; literally, "sumamed Zhang") he was in fact slandering
41Mingshi, Vol. 16,4910. We should also point out that the threats posed by
the avarice of the imperial family was one aspect of a larger, potentially more
devastating problem - the growth of the extended imperial family whose upkeep
demanded an ever-larger share of the governments resources. This, along with
declining troop strength on the northern border, was pointed out by Wang Tingxiang
as one of the immenent dangers facing the empire. See Wang Tingxiang, Wang
Tingxiang j i [Collected Works of Wang Tingxiang] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1989),
Vol. 3,874.
179
the empress. Zhang Heling demanded Li be beheaded. Due to the
pleadings of Lady Jin, the emperor had Li imprisoned. Fortunately Li
had the sympathy of the officials surrounding the emperor who eventually
acceded to their protestations and had Li released. Li Mengyang's
uncompromising nature is even better illustrated in an event which
occurred shortly later. It is said that Li happened to meet Zhang Heling
on the street. Li cursed him and then beat him with a horse whip,
knocking out two of Zhang's teeth. Zhang did not dare to return the
blows. W hether or not this story is entirely accurate, and given the
power Zhang enjoyed it probably is not, it does give some indication of
the way Li Mengyang was perceived.
In 1506, a number of officials decided to send a joint memorial to
the emperor outlining the abuses of Liu Jian. Officials in the bureaucracy
were uncertain how to remove Liu. Li Mengyang suggested that they
sign a joint memorial accusing Liu, and by doing so would strengthen
the hand of the grand secretaries who in turn would easily oust him.43
The plan was approved by the grand secretaries and Li Mengyang penned
the memorial chiding the emperor for spending his sagely virtue on the
pursuit of pleasure and pointing out that pear and peach trees had flowered
out o f season in an ominous display of Heavenly discord.44 Liu Jin
discovered the plot before it could be put forward and had Li Mengyang
and the rest dismissed from office. Li did not remain silent at his home
in Kaifeng, however, and it was not long before he was arrested again

““In an example of the emperor's inatttention to state affairs, Li Mengyang's
first draft was rejected by the minister of Personnel, Han Wenmei, because it was
too long and the emperor was unlikely to read it in its entirety. Ibid..
180
for writing poems critical of the court, and brought back to Beijing for
execution. Li Mengyang was eventually saved from execution by his
friend, Kang Hai MM (1475-1540), who pleaded with Liu to save his
life. Liu Jin had long tried to gain Kang Hai's support by exploiting the
fact that they came from the same area. Kang Hai had previously
refused to have anything to do with him, but then relented for the sake
of Li and in a personal interview convinced Liu that he should spare Li's
life.
Liu Jin's tenure was short.45 After his fall, officials persecuted
during his tenure were returned to the posts. Li Mengyang was named
surveillance vice-commissioner of Jiangxi in charge of education. Here
Li continued to display an unabated moral vigor. Significantly, he
prepared a shrine for Lian Zining (d.1402) near the latter's
birthplace.46 Lian Zining was one of the Jianwen martyrs who was
executed for opposing the usurpation of the Yongle emperor. For men
like Li Mengyang, Lian Zining was a symbol of the moral outrage
literati felt when faced with a court lacking any semblance of Confucian
ideals. There was an additional reason why Li Mengyang should feel
particular empathy with Lian Zining. One his way home after being
cashiered by Liu Jin, Li Mengyang, in the company of W ang Yangming,
stopped near the bank of the Baogou River about one hundred miles
south of Beijing. This was the site of a huge battle between the forces
4SChaoying Fang credits Li Dongyang for Liu Jin's downfall. Dictionary o f

Ming Biography Vol 1,878. Mingshi jishi benmo claiMingshi Liu Jin was undone
by his fellow eunuch Zhang Yong in a scheme devised by Yang Yiqing (M ingshi
jishi benmo , pp. 61-62).
'“Benjamin Elman, "'Where is King Ch'eng?' Confucian Examinations and
Imperial Ideology during the Early Ming Dynasty, 1368-1415" (Conference paper
for "Culture and State in Late Imperial China," U.C. Irvine, 6/17-21,1992), 3, note.
181
of the Jianwen emperor and Zhu Di. There Li wrote a poem
commemorating the battle and his great-grandfather who died fighting
Zhu Di's forces. So Li Mengyang likely saw himself as descended from
the Jianwen martyrs, and this perhaps even influenced his relish for
fighting corruption while paying no heed to the power of the forces
arrayed against him. It should also be added here that Wu Shizhong, the
official who also memorialized against the abuses of Zhang Heling, also
memorialized the throne asking that the Jianwen martyrs be recognized
with posthumous titles. Wu's memorial was not read by the emperor.47
Wu's actions provide another example of the connection between empathy
for the Jianwen martyrs and political activism arrayed against corruption
at court.
Li Mengyang also restored the White Deer Academy and wrote a
history of the famous school. To some extent periodic restoration of
this paragon of private academies was a traditional undertaking of
education superintendents. White Deer Academy had been restored by
previous superintendents in 1465, 1495, and most recently before Li
Mengyang's tenure, in 1501 by Shao Bao, the disciple of Zhuang Chang
and Li Dongyang. So for Li Mengyang to do the same was in no sense
exceptional. Nevertheless Li took his responsibility for local education
seriously and his restoration of the White Deer Academy and his ordering
of local schools to be built throughout the province signaled Li's intention
to foster moral behavior after the model of men like Lian Zining. Li's
behavior at the time also closely fits what John Meskill has said was
typical of literati committed to private academies, for Li and them alike,
182
"when pressed to defend themselves in political conflicts, assumed a
stance so moral that it approached zealotry."48 This combination of
political conflict and moral self-righteousness was also apparent in the
local students who considered Li their teacher. Unlike sedate efforts to
achieve success in inner cultivation or book learning which we might
imagine normally characterized provincial schools and private academies,
under his direction Li's students were unusually politically assertive. Li
Mengyang had succeeded in garnering the enmity of local officials as
well as his superiors in the censorate. Either as cause or result, Li’s
students refused to pay courtesy calls on local officials, and when they
did, they only bowed instead of kneeling. In 1514, Li's students were
also involved in a fight with the retainers of the Prince of Huai. Li
Mengyang had the retainers beaten and thereby incurred the wrath of the
prince who memorialized against him. This in turn prompted local
officials to reaccuse Li of improprieties. Li countered with accusations
of corruption and bribery. In the ensuing struggle, Li was supported by
the Prince of Ning for whom Li had previously written an account of the
private academy the latter founded. Li was imprisoned. Over ten thousand
students protested that Li had been falsely accused, but to no avail. In
the end Li was retired for "coercing his colleagues and intimidating his
superiors."49 He never served in office again.
Li Mengyang's heroic temperament was not confined to his political
struggles, but were the hallmark of his poetry as well. It was in the
guise of a poet and critic that Li Mengyang achieved fame, in fact
^John Meskill, Academies in Ming China: A H istorical Essay (Tucson:

University of Arizona, 1982), 32.
49Mingshi, Vol. 24,7346-47.
183
becoming the single most influential literary figure in the mid-Ming.
His poetics, like his politics, were infused with a moral zealotry and a
willingness to challenge his superiors and the status quo, specifically Li
Dongyang and the grand secretariat style. While in the capital, he
became the leader of his own poetry circle which included He Jingming
n m m (1483-1521), Wang Tingxiang (1474-1544), Kang Hai,
Wang Jiusi (1468-1551), Xu Zhenqing (1479-1511), and
Bian Gong (1476-1532). Later they would be collectively known
as the Former Seven Masters (to distinguish them from the Latter Seven
Masters, the heirs to their poetics during the late Ming) whose poetics
were defined by their opposition to the grand secretariat style and the
slogan of "reviving the ancients."
He Jingming distinguished himself as the foremost poetic theorist
of the group. Wang Tingxiang was the only one of the seven to have an
accomplished official career, eventually rising to the posts o f minister of
W ar in Nanjing and censor-in-chief in Beijing. He also distinguished
himself as a philosopher who neither completely agreed with Zhu Xi
nor Wang Yangming. Kang Hai and Wang Jiusi were close friends and
each was known for his interests in drama and songs. Bian Gong was
praised for his poetry by Wang Shizhen, but other than that was less
distinguished than the others. Xu was known for his philosophical
temperament which favored Daoism. With Li Mengyang, He, Wang,
and Bian all shared the political experience of opposing Liu Jin and
incurring his wrath and punishment. Wang Jiusi was in contrast linked
to the Liu Jin clique, due to his friendship with Kang Hai, and like Kang
was released from office and led a hermetic life from then on. One
striking characteristic the Seven Masters had in common was the fact
184
that they were all Northerners, except for Xu Zhenqing who was from
Suzhou prefecture. Given Li Dongyang's open disparagement of the
literary abilities of Northerners, we can imagine that Li Mengyang and
Ms circle naturally felt some antagonism toward Li and somewhat alienated
from Ms circle. The suggestion that geography had something to do
with the rise o f the Seven Masters is also intimated by Qian Qianyi who
writes that "the North preached reviving the ancients and forcefully
criticized Chaling" (Li Dongyang's sobriquet and the town in the southern
province of Hunan from wMch he hailed).
According to Li Mengyang, what really separated them was
fundamentally a question of moral character, though as we shall see
later, he likely saw a positive connection between moral sensibilities
and Northerners. In any case, the most salient point was that for Li
Mengyang politics and poetry, moral behavior and the word, could never
be separated. Thus the reason why Li Mengyang renounced the poetics
o f Li Dongyang was ostensibly because of Dongyang's moral failings
and Ms compromising attitude toward the agents of moral corruption in
the inner court, especially Ms apparent appeasement of Li Jin. In turn,
Dongyang's moral weaknesses were also reflected in Ms poetry. This
certainly was the portrayal of Li Dongyang by Li Kaixian (1502-68),
a friend to both Wang Jiusi and Kang Hai, and thus a man whose views
on the subject likely reflected those of Wang and Kang: "When Xiya [Li
Dongyang] was prime minister [grand secretary], Ms poetry and prose
were soft and mushy and Ms character was pliant and yielding. Not
only were Ms poetry and prose corrupted (mibai fglfc), but Ms character
also followed."50 YosMkawa Kojiro has also pointed out that Li Dongyang
incurred the resentment of younger officials due to his hesitation in
185
dealing with Liu Jin and his decision to remain in office. This he says
was a direct impetus for the ancient phraseology (guwen ci) movement
launched by the Seven Masters.51
Thus the activities of Li Mengyang and his circle did not merely
represent a new turn in the literary fashions of the day. The rise in
popularity of the poetics of the Seven Masters signaled the end of the
grand secretaries' control over the literary world, and thus a transference
of power. This is corroborated by a contemporary observer: "Beginning
with the rise of Li [Mengyang] and He [Jingming] the [literary] stage
moved down to the officials [of the bureaucracy]."52 The contest over
who would occupy center stage in the literary arena involved new
aggravations of old antagonisms between the grand secretariat and lower
officials, including the Hanlin Academy. Kang Hai was initially the
most politically successful of the Seven Masters, passing optimus in the
Palace Examination of 1502 and then entering the Hanlin Academy as a
compiler. After his forced retirement he said that he never again sought
office because "Hanlin officials are the mere tools of the grand secretariat;
upright evaluation of able men has become dangerous; frank statements
only enrage people who are accustom ed to form al and false
politeness... ."s Kang accused the grand secretariat of controlling avenues
of expression and stilting forthright speech, likely associated in Kang
S0In Qian Qianyi, "He shilang Mengchun," Liechao sh iji xiaozhuan

[Biographies of Ming Dynasty Poets] (Taibei: Shijie shuju, 1965), Vol. 1,274.
51Yoshikawa Kojiro, Yoshikawa Kojiro zenshu [Complete Works o f
Yoshikawa Kojiro] (Tokyo: Chikuma shobo, 1969), Vol. 15,491.
52Chen Tian, quoted in Jian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu., 21.
186
Hai’s mind with its monopoly over the articulation of literary norms. In
one sense, a new poetics challenging the grand secretariat style was a
form of remonstrance, an attempt to open the avenue of words by those
with moral conscience. So the question of who possessed the authority
to articulate literary norms had implications far beyond poetry.
Li Dongyang claimed he had the authority by virtue of his skills
as a reader and writer, as a master of the written word and the literary
tradition. Li Mengyang claimed authority over the word due to his
moral competence, whose expression was his poetry but whose source
was the unassailable moral fundament. This challenge was successful
for two reasons. The general tide of suspicion that the written word had
broken loose from its moral foundation, and the building resentment
against the grand secretariat, the state guardian of the word, for colluding
with the immoral agents of the inner court. This open challenge to the
grand secretariat's control over the word coming from the ranks of lower
officials likely damaged its prestige and opened the possibility for much
more serious challenges to its authority during the subsequent Jiajing
reign period.
The attack launched by the Seven Masters against Li Dongyang's
poetics reflected their claims to linguistic authority and was carried out
with rhetoric that indicted Li's moral character. Due to its perceived
lack of vitality and moral resolution, Li Mengyang termed the grand
secretariat style "shallow and pretty" (diaofu mili S t ^ f f l i ) .54 Kang
Hai criticized it in the same vein, calling the style "flowery and effete,"55
^Li Mengyang, "Lingxi xiansheng muzhiming" Konglong xiansheng j i [The

Collected Works of Li Mengyang], 4 Vols. (reprint; Taibei: Weiwen tushu chubanshe,
1976), 45.2a-b. Also quoted inJian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu, 50.
187
and even satirized Li Dongyang in his zaju play "Du Fu Buys Wine on a
Spring Outing" in the character of Prime Minister Li Linfu, a notoriously
corrupt official during the Tang dynasty: "Prime Minister Li Limfu's
poetry is the greatest, light, fresh and pretty!"56 Again, according to
Yoshikawa, Li Mengyang found Li Dongyang's poetics to be the way he
found his politics, "too flexible, overly compromising, and unduly
accomm odating.. . [Li Mengyang] wanted a more intense and vital kind
of writing."57 For his contemporaries, Li Mengyang's poetry often did
strike one as the opposite of Li Dongyang's "soft" style. Xue Hui
(1481-1541), for instance termed Li Mengyang's poetry "rough and hard"
(cugang ffliJ), hardly a compliment by the way, qualities which
Yoshikaw a says "doubtless stemmed from the poet's passionate
temperament."58
Writing with the vision of hindsight in 1545, Zhang Zhidao gives
this brief account of the rise of Li Mengyang and his friends and provides
some indication of what they specifically objected to in the grand
secretariat style:
Xiya [Li Dongyang] was in the grand secretariat, and there

wasn't a literary man or talented scholar of the time who
didn't follow his style.... At the time scholar-officials had a
saying: 'Above are [only] three old men and below are
[just] three poems' (meaning everyone imitated the poetry
of the grand secretaries).... After some time, Kongtong [Li
ssKang Hai, "Meipo xiansheng ji xu," quoted in M ingdai wenxue piping

yanjiu, 50.
“ Ibid., 51.
k o j ir o Yoshikawa, Five Hundred Years o f Chinese Poetry, 140-41.
“ Xue's quote and Yoshikawa's comment are found in Ibid, 146-7.
188
Mengyang], Duishan [Kang Hai], and Dafu [He Jingming]
successively arrived in the capital. They detested the defect
of the age which was [writing] for the sake of literature
alone, and discussed remedies among themselves. They
modeled their prose on the Qin and Han dynasties, and
modeled their poetry on the Han and Wei dynasties, Li Bo,
and Du Fu. They departed from contemporary habits and
pursued the ancients. Scholars of lofty understanding vied
to praise them. Therefore the transformations of prose and
poetry of the present day began with these gentlemen.59
The key point captured by Zhang Zhidao is the fact that the Seven
M asters attacked the grand secretary style for its concentration on
"literature alone." In other words it lacked a proper appreciation for the
moral sentiments which give rise to poetry. From what we know of Li
Dongyang's approach to poetry as primarily an artist and connoisseur,
the charge that he concentrated solely on literature was mostly accurate.
W hat literature needed, according to the Seven Masters, was something
Li Dongyang was unable to provide-moral reinvigoration.
Turning from an emphasis on poetry to an emphasis on Dao,
according to Jian Jinsong, was a trend among Ming poets epitomized by
the work of Li Mengyang and Xu Zhenqing. The shift in emphasis from
literature to morality was theoretically easily accomplished by invoking
the literary theories of Song Daoxue, a strategy also adopted by Luo
Lun. Again it is something of a surprise that Daoxue, nominally the
central construction of Ming state ideology and education orthodoxy
would be invoked in an attack on the poetics of the political center, an
extension of sorts of the irony that a doctrine which was highly suspicious
S9Zhang Zhidao, "Meipo xiansheng xuji xu," quoted in M ingdai wenxue

piping yanjiu, 49.
189
of the written word would become the basis for a literary examination in
the first place. Initially mirroring the Daoxue attack on what was perceived
as an over-emphasis on literature in the Song, Wang Tingxiang revived
Zhou Dunyi's dictum, saying that "literature is the instrument which
conveys the Bao." Then he continues saying, "wen is Bao, government
is wen."60 The failure to view literature as an instrument (qi §g), that is,
as a tool whose value lies only in its functionality, and the misguided
perception of the word as valuable in itself, caused the decline of morality.
In a letter to He Jingming, Wang says: "In general, when theories of the
written word flourish, discussions of moral principles and Bao disappear.
When Confucians who cultivate their literary expertise arise, then literati
who discuss morality are few."61 He Jingming, who tended to discuss
the theoretical aspects of the Seven Masters' agenda much more than Li
Mengyang, explained the relationship between literature and the Bao by
adopting Zhu Xi's analogy of a tree:
Literature is the flowering of the Bao. If attainment o f the

B ao is deep, then expression in literature will be vast and
tranquil. If what is acquired in the Bao is unadulterated,
then expression in literature will be correct and pure. Taking
the analogy of a tree, Bao is the root and literature is the
flowers and leaves. Literature which is not founded on the
Bao is like flowers without a root.62
He Jingming's criticism of what is wrong with literary and scholarly

pursuit echoes the Daoxue critique of guwen as well. According to He,
®°"Guang wenxuan xu," Wang Tingxiang ji, Vol. 2,419.
61"Da He Zhongmo," ibid., 491.
“ He Jingming, Dafu j i (Siku zhenben edition, ser. 7, Vols. 242-7), Vol. 2,

619.
190
scholars in the Ming "are all intent on literary cultivation without having
heard the Dao."63
The Seven Master intent to revitalize literature with the Dao and
their distaste for the moral waffling of Li Dongyang led them to repudiate
one of the central tenets in his poetics, that each age has its own style of
poetry and its own value. In his preface to He Jingming's complete
works, Wang Tingxiang rejects the notion that "literature changes with
the age.1' it is not a function of the times for "essentially it is preserved
in the individual." Thus it was the sage kings and their literature which
were the apex, and in succeeding ages there were isolated individuals
who approached their style and morality.64 The literary relativism of Li
Dongyang was rejected in favor of a timeless and absolute moral
sensibility. For the Masters, the poems of some embodied it and some
did not, period. The poetry of Li Mengyang, according to Wang Tingxiang,
was not a function of the age in which he lived, but a function of his
moral character. Thus Li Mengyang’s "virtue was lofty and [his] literary
compositions were ancient and elegant."65 This connection between
character and literature was also made in He Jingming's description of
Zhu Xi: "Mr. Huian's [Zhu Xi] heroic talent and sagely learning were all
expressed in his written words (wenci). They all reached that which
lodges the Dao. Later writers (ciren) do not come up to him."66 Therefore
instead of a broad literary connoisseurship, they insisted on the adoption
“ Ibid., 621.
“ "Heshiji xu ,”Wang Tingxiang j i, Vol. 2,424.
“ "Juyong Lu Nan Cui Xian Li Mengyang shu," ibid, Vol. 4,1245.
“ "Ba Huian yimo," Dafu ji, Vol. 4,1248.
191
of a narrow literary orthodoxy in which are found the moralAiterary
models. "Heroism" (qijie St,#) was a central tenet of the Master's fugu
poetics. In contrast the term rarely appears in Li Dongyang's works.67
Among the Seven Masters there was general agreement that the
poems of the high Tang, especially those of Du Fu, embodied the highest
moral tenor, most closely approached antiquity, and were thus the most
worthy models. Li Mengyang wanted to recover "the lofty spirit of past
heroes,"68 and in a way it was natural for him to urge a return to the
Tang instead of the Song. The Song after all was remembered by Ming
literati primarily as the dynasty which ignominiously ceded half of its
territory to the northern barbarian Jurchens for over a century, and then
of course, finally completely surrendered to the Mongols. The theme of
returning to the Han and Tang was actually prevalent since the beginning
o f the dynasty. When Ming Taizu restored Chinese rule, he did not
envision rekindling the spirit of the Song, but modeling his reign on the
truly great dynasties of Han and Tang. Symbolic of his intent was his
order that all Ming officials wear Tang style court dress. It should be
added that in terms of literature and scholarship, the grand secretariat
was also a stronghold of "ancient" sentiment, where a command over
the literature of the ancients was considered a primary mark of a man of
letters. Of course Li Mengyang's motivation for reviving the ancients
w as different, for he wanted to recapture their morality. Kang Hai
exhibited a preference for the poetry of early Tang, but in any case, for
the same reasons: "The qi [of their poetry] was virile and unadorned,
67Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu, 284.
“ Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo wenxue piping shi. [A History of Chinese Literary

Criticism] (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1979), p. 352.
192
echoing the guofeng."69 To the degree that any individual could imbue
his poetry with moral feeling was the extent to which their work
corresponded to the High Tang. Thus Li Mengyang's moral qualities
allowed his poetry to transcend his age and acquire the style of the
ancients. The poems by Zhu Xi as well were not characteristic of the
inferior literary products of the Song dynasty, for they had "the qi of
high Tang."70
Unlike Zhu Xi, of course, the Seven Masters were first and foremost
poets, and though never directly articulated as such, their entire enterprise
was dedicated to the proposition that the right kind of poetry could both
embody morality and reinvigorate an age in decline. Obviously there
was some tension in using Daoxue to argue for such a position. After
all Zhu Xi wanted to illumine the Dao by wresting it from the formal
trap of the word. The Seven Masters wanted to reimbue literature with
the Dao. The distinction is important because, as we have seen, literature
for Zhu Xi ultimately became so secondary as to approach superfluity.
The Masters were conscious of the tension and sought strategies to
ameliorate it. As we saw above, one approach taken by He Jingming
was to co-opt Zhu Xi and turn him into a transmitter of Tang poetics.
True enough, Zhu Xi wrote poetry, and could anyone claim that his
literature did not convey the Dao? The claim however that Zhu Xi
modeled his poetry on the Tang masters was not tenable, because according
to Zhu's theories, literature, if able to convey the Dao, must be rooted in
69"Fanzi Shaonan shiji," quoted in Yokota Terutoshi, "Mindai bungakuron

no zenkai" [The Development of Literary Theories in the Ming Dynasty], Hiroshima
Daigaka bungakubu kiyo, supplement 1(1977), 87.
70He Jingming, "Ba Huian zhenji," Dafii ji, Vol. 4,1313.
193
the same. Chen Xianzhang solved the dilemma of how to move from
the Dao to the word by making poetic language the spontaneous expression
of the mind-spring. Wang Tingxiang also attempted to imply that literature
was a natural expression of the innate moral qualities of mind. He
Jingming also makes a similar argument, and to give it more force, he
again ascribes this natural and spontaneous connection between language
and the moral mind to Zhu Xi:
Mister [Zhu Xi's] learning took rectifying the mind as the

root. Poetry is the voice of the mind. Written characters
are the brush strokes of the mind. The mind acquires what
has been cultivated and then expresses it in poetry and
gives it form in characters. It transcends the ordinary and
leaves behind the vulgar. Is it something those of this
generation who waste their energy and tire their spirits
studying poetry and characters can approximate? Mr. [Zhu
Xi] was good at learning. Sing his mind's voice, look at his
mind's brush strokes, then the lost mind will recover of
itself. And those vulgarites who dissipate themselves are
certain they can acquire his method of mind from the surface
of his words and phrases and dots and strokes!71
By suggesting that Zhu Xi's poetry is the voice of the mind, He is

echoing Zhan Ruoshui in his description of Chen Xianzhang's poetry.
The characters which He calls the brush strokes of the mind, by the way,
do not refer to the words in Zhu's poetry but the specimens of calligraphy
for which this paragraph is part of the postscript. He's caution against
attempting to acquire the method of the mind from the surface meaning
of the words shows that he is sensitive to the inadequacies of pursuing
the literal word, again in line with Chen Xianzhang and Zhu Xi himself.
71Ibid.
194
He's alternative, that one should sing the poems, again similar to Cheng
Hao's reading method, shows how Li Dongyang's concentration on sound
and tone could be profitably appropriated by He and the others as the
source of the moral feeling in a poem and yet allow them to claim
transcendence of the word. In what almost approaches a rhetorical
sleight of hand, He succeeds in invoking Zhu Xi to argue that profound
mental and moral cultivation can be accomplished merely through reading
poetry.
He's laudatory treatment of Zhu Xi's poetry is somewhat ironic
given that one of the most striking aspects of the Seven Masters' agenda
was their rejection of Song dynasty poetry and prose as literary models,
exemplified by their provocative slogan: "Don't read any books [written]
after the Tang." This extreme position brought the Masters renown, and
also some ridicule. There is a humorous anecdote recorded by Yang
Shen, another disciple of Li Dongyang, about a conversation he had
with He Jingming concerning this unusual determination. Yang Shen
writes:
My late friend He Zhongmo [Jingming] used to say, "One

neal not acquire Song books, one need not read Song poetry."
One day I wrote down these four poems (all by Song poets)
and asked him, "Who wrote these poems?" He responded,
"These are Tang poems." I laughed and said, "These are
those poems by Song men which you do not read." Zhongmo
muttered quietly and after a long while said, "If you look
carefully they aren't any good." This can be called obstinate
indeed!
72Yang Shen, "Lianhua shi," Shengan shihua jianzheng [Yang Shen's Talks
on Poetry, Annotated], annotated by Wang Zhongyong (Shanghai guji chubanshe,
1987), 433-4.
195
Not only did the Masters reject Song literature, they never entirely
accepted the poetics of Song Daoxue either. Indeed the willingness to
question established authority evident in Li Mengyang and his fellows
extended to the even more sacrosanct cultural icons of the Song Daoxue
pantheon.73 Basically, what the Seven Masters found wanting in Song
poetry was the same thing they found lacking in their poetics. Song
poetry emphasized moral principles while Tang poetry emphasized
rhythm.74 The rhetorical strength of the Masters' poetics lay first of all
in the glory of the Tang dynasty and the superiority of Tang poetry, a
fact already established by Song critics like Yan Yu, and from this
perspective their poetics was an extension of that of the Song. Their
claim that Tang poetry was superior for its meditation on rhythm was
persuasive because traditional poetics had always connected music with
the emotions. As early as the Great Preface we find the following
correspondence: "Emotion is expressed in voice. When voice is made
into wen it is called tone (yin If)."75 It certainly could be argued that
the overriding concern of Song Confucians with finding meanings and
principles in texts, and there concomitant neglect of the individual written
character meant a neglect as well of their sound qualities. Moral principles
by themselves also appeared divorced from human emotion. The abstract
quality of li, either as the prescriptions of the sage kings or as transcendent
73This point is also made by Lin Qingzhang who views the Seven Masters as
"one type of movement to oppose Song Learning." Lin Qingzhang, Mingdai kaojuxue
yanjiu [Researches on Ming Dynasty Evidential Learning] (Taibei: Xuesheng shuju,
1986), 19.
74"Fu yin xu," Kongiong xiansheng ji, Vol. 4 , 51.4b.

7SMaoshi zhengyi, 1.2a.
196
moral principle, and the more immediate sensate experience of qi caused
W ang Tingxiang to conclude that "to not talk about qi and only talk
about li" is like "discussing emptiness."76 Li Mengyang echoed this
sentiment saying that "The men of Song did not talk about anything
outside of li, therefore they lost things and were mired in obscurity."77
He Jingming made the same point, relating it directly to the decline of
poetry. He complained that those who claim to study li consider the art
of composition to be a minor path.78 In fact, according to Song Daoxue,
emotions were in some sense opposed to moral principle, for they were
the stuff of qi, that half of the li-qi dichotomy which was the suspect
source of evil.
The reevaluation of the role of qi was likely Wang Tingxiang's
greatest contribution to Chinese philosophy, and I think the need to free
poetry, and the emotions which are its source, from the coniines of the
li-qi dichotomy had much to do with it. I don't think we can properly
evaluate the philosophical implications of qi unless we take into account
the heavy reliance on qi in Ming poetic discourse. Zhan Ruoshui said:
"When chanting poetry, because of the poem the qi is moved, because
of qi the mind [of the author] is attained... .',79 The emphasis on chanting
reminds us that it involves the exhalation of breath which is also qi.
And further, it is the tonal quality of the poem which was considered to
be the source of a poems affective quality.80
76"Hengliang liqi bian," Wang Tingxiang j i, Vol. 2,602.

’’Li Mengyang, "Wuli bian," inTaoZongyi, comp., Shuofu sanzhong [Tales
from within the City Walls] (Shanghai guji chubanshe), Vol. 9 , 46.2.85a.
^ n Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu, 218.
’’Quoted in ibid., 214.
197
Wang criticized Zhu Xi for making li ontologically prior to qi.
W ang claimed it was quite the opposite: "Before Heaven-and-earth,
there was but primal qi (yuanqi TuiQ. Above primal qi there was no
thing, therefore primal qi is the root of Dao."81 Wang's intention was to
give qi a commensurate status with Dao. "Qi is Dao," he says, "Dao is
qi."82 It was also this primal qi which Wang made the internal source
of literature. For instance, discussing the poetry of He Jingming, Wang
says it "came from primal essence (yuanjing 7cffir), and in its response
existed together with primal qi lying yu yuanqi bingcun
)."83 Wang Tingxiang complains that if literati concentrate exclusively
on literature, then their qi will be blocked. Instead they need to convey
the substantial things of morality and government.84 His qi therefore
was the fundamental life-force and vitality of the author, and yet also
had moral qualities, similar, I think, with the notion of haoran zhi qi
in the M e n g z i85 By removing qi from the li-qi dichotomy of
Song Daoxue, Wang changed its status. No longer li's evil little brother,
qi connected emotion directly with the fundamental source of vitality in
the universe and thus made emotions, at least those of the virtuous men,
a primary constituent of human nature rather than a secondary affect.
“ See Xu Fuguan's discussion of qi and sound in his Zhongguo wenxue lunji

[Collected Essays on Chinese Literature] (Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1982), 329 ff.
81Wang Tingxiang ji, Vol. 3,835.
“ Ibid., 848.
“ "Heshi ji xu," Ibid, Vol. 2,425.
^"Shilong ji xu," ibid., 418.

85Mengzi zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu Vol. 2 , 3a.21c.
198
Word and "Method"
Despite the new status afforded to qi and emotions by the Seven

Masters, we still find discernible echoes of the Song Daoxue mistrust of
the emotions in their poetics. There remained a fear of unmediated
emotional expression and spontaneous poetic construction. The Masters
maintained that objective poetic standards, what they called "method"
(fa $0 , were necessary to modulate properly emotions and versification.
There was another, more important function for method, however,
stemming I think from an awareness of the anti-literary bias of Song
Daoxue and the theoretical difficulty of creating the word from Dao and
gleaning Dao from the word. "Method" was central to the effort to find
a compromise position somewhere in between an over-concentration on
literature and an exclusive devotion to Dao. In this respect it is noteworthy
that in contrast to Jian Jinsong, Guo Shaoyu places the Masters in
opposition to Daoxue and argues that they and Song guwen practitioners
were both concerned with the formal aspects of literature instead of
content or Dao.86 He Jingming presents the Seven Masters' middle of
the road position by way of historical critique: "Literary men of Han
were skilled in literature but ignorant of the Dao.... The great Confucians
o f the Song knew the Dao but were obstructed by literature."87 Wang
Tingxiang slightly alters Zhou Dunyi's statement, giving more weight to
literature: "I have said that literature which does not convey the Dao is
“ See his Zhongguo wenxue piping shi, 347.

^He Jingming, "Shu gui fu xu." Daju j i, 1.8..
199
not worth transmitting to later generations. Written language (ci) which
is not ancient and elegant, though transmitted, will not be so for long."88
The meeting point between the Dao and the word was reached via
"method." "Method" was at once a method of doing literature (wenfa
Wi) and a method of the mind (xinfa —in the quote cited in the
previous section, He Jingming used the term "xinfa" to denote the
transcendent, moral quality of mind that was embodied in Zhu X i’s
poetry. It was that which was common to both the moral mind and
good literature, and it was also the method of writing literature in the
manner of the ancients. By reading and entirely digesting the literature
of the ancients then one could, it was argued, acquire their method and
thus write literature with the corresponding vitality and moral purpose.
One way we can define method is by seeing it as the Dao immanent in
literature, although, as we have said, without any anti-literary
connotations. The fact that the Seven Masters essentially replaced moral
principles with method can be seen in Li Mengyang's statement: "My
method is the Dao of Yao and Shun."89 But when looking at a poem
where exactly is method? Li Mengyang argued that it is largely in the
rhythm, that space half way between the material word and the moral
spirit of the ancients. Li Mengyang said: "Literature must have method,
then the measure of its sounds will be harmonized, like the square and
the compass to the square and circle."90 Again it is the sound quality of
a poem that needs to be harmonized with wenfa (method of literature),
88Wang Tingxiang ji, Vol. 3,837.
^ o k o t a Terutoshi, "Minded bungakuron no zenkai," 73.
^"Da Zhouzi shu," Kongtong xianshengji, Vol. 4 , 61.12a.
200
just as the emotions need to be properly regulated through xinfa (method
of mind).
In discussing method, Li Mengyang and He Jingming often used
analogies of tools or other cultural objects which demanded skillful
manipulation, construction, and so forth. This probably more than
anything else distinguished their views from Chen Xianzhang, and
emphasized the need for exterior standards in poetry "construction."
Good poetry was not spontaneous for the Masters. Acceptable language
was that which was constructed according to definite rules laid down by
the ancients in their own literary works. He Jingming used the analogy
of a musician to describe the necessity for a single overarching method
in poetry writing. While he admits to there being different literary
styles depending on different circumstances and locations of the author,
he says:
Nevertheless, the drawing of the bow does not change

according to the individual archer. The plucking of the
strings of the zither does not change according to the
individual musician. Therefore teachers can change, but
method cannot be changed.91
M ethod does not change. It is eternal because it is not culturally

conditioned. Wang Tingxiang uses the analogy of a doctor:
Compare it to healing in medicine, the three viscera and

five organs, cold wind and hot dampness. Medicines have
fixed qualities. Prescriptions have fixed forms. If a doctor
follows and abides by them, though he may not provide
any great benefit, he certainly will not make any great
91"Shu gui fu xu," Dafu ji, 1.7.
201
errors. Therefore the ingenuity (qiao Vj) of a skilled master
never departs from the compass and the square. If a painter
wants to surpass the conventional, he must first imitate.92
Poetry writing is a skill to be acquired, and here the Masters are in

agreement with Li Dongyang, not Chen Xianzhang.
Reinvigoration of poetry was to be achieved through imitating the
method of past masters, or, as the Seven Masters normally put it, "reviving
the ancients." The literary tolerance of Li Dongyang was rejected in
favor of a careful selection of the cream of the literary tradition. Prose
had to be modeled on that of the Qin and Han dynasties. This effort to
reduce the literary tradition to a limited number of orthodox models was
taken even further in terms of poetry. Often it appeared that it was not
even early Tang or high Tang, but Du Fu that was the model. Li
Mengyang said:
W hen composing poetry one must study Du Fu. If the

poem reaches the beauty of Du Fu, it is like a circle which
cannot be perfected by a compass, a square which cannot
be perfected by a carpenter's square.93
The tool analogy here underscores Li's insistence that literati imitate Du
Fu in their own poetry. Li's assertion that Du Fu’s poetry was the finest
in the Chinese tradition would be seconded by many today. Given Li's
moral orientation, however, we must consider that Du Fu's poetry was
also attractive for its strong social criticism and moralistic bent. He
Jingming, in fact, extolled Du Fu on the basis of such a criterion: "Of
w"Yu Guo Jiefu xueshi lunshi shu," Wang Tingxiang ji, Vol. 2,503.
^Quoted in Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo wenxue piping shi, p. 346.
202
those who pursued love of his ruler and concern for the empire, there
really was only Du Fu of the Tang."94 The ancients were moral, which
meant politically virtuous. Wang Tingxiang writes: "Ancient literati
took the public and the court as their m ind."95 In other words, they
were not concerned with self-advantage. Here we can see why literary
reform and political activism went hand in hand for the Seven Masters.
A t base both were efforts toward moral invigoration, ultimately seeking
to renew the vigor of the empire.
In terms of poetic practice, acquiring the method of the ancients
involved imitation. On this point there was general agreement on the
part of the Masters. They disagreed, however, as to what exactly should
be imitated. Their disagreement was in a sense a product of their
attempts to mediate between Daoxue and guwen, for it was "method"
over which they disagreed, specifically, the precise relationship between
method and the word. Li Mengyang was initially the most committed
of the Seven Masters to the word as model, even to the point of imitating
the diction of Du Fu's poems in order to acquire his method. A
disagreement on this point erupted after Li Mengyang sent He Jingming
a letter accusing him of deviating from the method of the ancients. The
letter is no longer extant, but we do have He Jingming's response. In his
letter, He admits that he may be guilty of not entirely following the
ancient standards, but instead of being contrite, He accuses Li of following
them too far. He makes it very plain that Li's defect is by far the more
serious one, for at least He tried to perceive the real face of the ancients,
’‘’He Jingming, He Wensu gong wenji [The Collected Literary Works of He

Jingming] (1694 photo reprint; Taibei: Weiwen tushu chubanshe, 1976), 1.15.
9SWang Tingxiang ji, Vol. 3,846.
203
while Li never got beyond imitating "formal traces" (xingji that is,
the literal words. He Jingming continues in his letter to explain why
imitating the method of the ancients does not mean imitating their words:
Method (fa j£) is always the same, but language (yu fg)
does not have to be the same. When I look at the writings
of Yao, Shun, Zhou [Gong], Kongzi, Zi Si, and Mengzi,
they do not copy one another, yet they illumine one another.
In this way then morality is daily renewed and the Dao is
broadened. This is truly the transmission of the mind from
sage to sage. Vulgar Confucians of later generations were
attached exclusively to etymology and held on to one theory.
To the end of their days they weren't able to unravel it and
they turned their back on the transmitted intention. The
poetry of today does not extend likeness to the utmost
transformation, embark on anything that has not been
expressed before, or erase the traces of their own careful
deliberations. In order to attain the achievements of the
spiritual sages, they only write what has already been laid
out, and if in dressing up their compositions they depart
slightly from the old books, then they chide themselves.
They are like small children who need to support themselves
against something in order to walk. If they do it on their
own they will topple over. So from this it is either [the
poetry of] Cao [Cao] and Liu [Bang] or Ruan [Ji] and Lu
[?] or Li [Bai] and Du [Fu], yet what do they add to the
transformation of the Dao? Buddhists have the metaphor
of a raft. They say abandon the raft then reach the shore,
reach the shore then abandon the raft.96
In his letter, He Jingming adopts the rhetorical stance of Song Daoxue,

with "method" occupying the position of Dao in Zhu Xi's doctrine.
"Method" was transmitted in ancient times, but in later ages it was lost
96,1Yu Li Kongtong lunshi shu," He Dafu xianskeng quanji,}. 32, in Guo

Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai weitlun xuan [Selected Discussions of Chinese Literature
from Different Ages] (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1985), Vol. 3 ,3 8 .
204
due to scholars mistakenly looking for it in the literal interpretation of
the words of the ancients. The task of the present generation was to
return to the intention/meaning of the ancients and recover their method
without becoming mired in the words. Here He Jingming revitalizes the
theory of the distinction between words and intention. The long tradition
of this theory going back to Mengzi plus the implied sanction of Daoxue
rhetoric makes He's position difficult to rebut. For added effect, He
throws in a Buddhist analogy. The original use of the raft metaphor in
the Diamond Sutra refers to the provisional nature of the dharma, that is
the spoken teachings of the Buddha. Just as language, which at best
only enjoys the status of provisional truth, must be abandoned in order
to attain enlightenment, the poetic language of the ancients must be
dispensed with before the method of the ancients, their spiritual feeling,
can be comprehended. The use of Buddhist rhetoric echoes the Song
critic Yan Yu who favored Buddhist vocabulary in order to sanction, in
my opinion, a poetics which indeed depended on the mastery of the
literary tradition with a myth of verbal transcendence. It is the Buddhistic
insistence on a mental transmission beyond the veil of words which
Daoxue scholars also adopted, and thus the so-called transmission of the
mind that He refers to in his letter marks the confluence of the Chan
Buddhist and Confucian Daoxue traditions. He goes a step farther in his
critique, for not only is Li Mengyang missing the intention of the ancients
by focussing on the word, his own poetry is merely imitating what
others have done and so is manifestly not his own. He all but says Li's
poetry is not self-acquired, to use Chen Xianzhang's terminology. He
ends the letter urging Li to "build his own house" rather than merely
reoccupying those built by others.97
205
The argument presented by He in his letter had tremendous force
for the early sixteenth century reader, not because of its inherent
irrefutability, but because He had nicely brought together several
arguments against sole concentration on the word which had been gaining
currency literally for centuries and by his time would have been accepted
by many without question. And here we should add that He was not
presenting a radical position for his times, his stance on the value of the
written word being much more conservative than Chen Xianzhang's. Li
Mengyang naturally felt some distress when trying to refute He, and try
he did, in several more letters. In fact the debate between the two men
ended only when He refused to keep arguing back. W e will not concern
ourselves with the weaknesses of his argument. Rather we will mark
those places where Li tries to deal specifically with the charge that he is
bound too closely to the word.
In his response to He's letter, Li basically admits to closely imitating
the method of the ancients without admitting that he imitates their
language:
The raft and I are two [separate things]. Like the snare for
the hare and the trap for the fish, one can discard it. But
the compass and the square come from [the forms of] the
circle and the square. Even if you wanted to discard them,
could you? Try building a house or making a door. If you
put aside the square and the compass, could you do it?98
Li Mengyang leaves out a clarification of what exactly constitutes method,
Îbid.
^ B o Heshi lunwen shu" in ibid., 46.
206
though he implies that it corresponds to or is created from natural forms.
In other words, the compass, the metaphor for method used here, exists
by virtue of the circle. Li Mengyang's use of the tool metaphors here
have the classical sanction of the M engzi, in which appears the line
"without compass and square one cannot construct a circle and a square."
The point in the M engzi ultimately concerned Dao. In a parallel
construction continuing this line about tools, the Mengzi states: "As for
the Dao of Yao and Shun, without humane government one cannot
pacify the world."99 Thus by using the tool analogy, Li Mengyang is
once again implying that his "method" is the Dao of the sages. Indeed
he makes this explicit in the following lines when he says that the
method he shares with former literary giants, is "the Dao of Yao and
Shun." The tool analogy and its connection to Dao in the Mengzi,
however, concerned government, not language or literature, and so the
perilous connection between the word and the Dao, ultimately the point
of He Jingming's criticism, remained unresolved.
In another letter, Li claimed that method had a natural source.
"The ancients used it, but did not create it, it is actually produced by
nature."100 The rhetorical retreat to nature, and the so-of-itself, appears
to have been a classic resolution to the vexing problem of how to account
for the acceptability and/or necessity of the written language given the
admission that the word was unacceptable as a conveyer of value. The
question of whether language was natural-and Chinese language creation
myths clearly show that writing was created by men, though likely from
99Mengzi zhushu, 7a.53a.

100Li Mengyang, "DaZhouzi shu," 61.12a..
207
natural inspiration-is not broached by Chen Xianzhang or Li Mengyang.
In any case, the reversion to arguments from nature was only a small
part of Li's lengthy and rambling rebuttals in which he avoids mention
of words entirely, except for one single line: "When the words flow (ci
zhi chang falfcnil), this is its qi. When harmonized this is the best qi."m
Once the subject of words is broached, it seems, Li Mengyang cannot
help but admit the close identification between the moral/spiritual qualities
of a poem and the words.
Rather than try to give an accurate account of the perambulations
of Li Mengyang's argument, at this point I will defer to Guo Shaoyu's
summary of the debate. Guo concludes that both men ultimately sanction
imitating the ancients, but disagree on what ought to be imitated. Li
wants to imitate the qi and the style of a poem, and these, Guo says, can
only be found in language and characters. Specifically, Guo points to
Li's reference to the "method" found in the ancients which he claims
incorporated a certain contrapuntal style. In Li's words, "If what comes
before is loose, what comes after must be dense. If one half is broad,
one half must be fine. If there is one full, there must be one em pty...."
This, says Guo, "is merely observable technique."102 To give a concrete
instance of this technique, Guo points to a poem criticized by Qian
Qianyi for having a particular line which seems a complete non-sequitur.
Guo says that Qian Qianyi was not aware this was a conscious use of
the technique Li called "interrupting with a contrary."103 Li's fixation
101"Bo Heshi lunwen shu," in Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun xuan,
Vol. 347.
102Ibid., 50.
1Q3Ibid., 51.
208
with the words of the ancients was also observed by other scholars.
Qian Qianyi, perhaps Li Mengyang's harshest critic, said his poetry was
like a child learning how to speak, imitating word for word.m From his
description, Guo clearly does not think much of Li's poetry or his poetics
due to its imitative quality, which he terms "studying the ancients in
order to take the place of his own creativity."105 Yoshikawa Kojiro is
one of the few literary historians to have given Li Mengyang's poetry a
sympathetic reading. For example, he will cite approvingly a line of Du
Fu's poetry which Li has commandeered into his own poem, while only
changing a single noun. The new image, however, gives the entire line
a whole new cast which Yoshikawa thinks adds much to the original.
Leaving the questions of Li Mengyang's degree of creativity and the
quality of his poetry, the examples by Guo and Yoshikawa, and the
comments of Qian Qianyi, all show how Li Mengyang's poetic practice
involved a close imitation of the linguistic patterns and even the vocabulary
and syntax of previous poets, showing his complete devotion to the
word.
I think it could be argued that He Jingming had a similar devotion
to the written language of past poetry masters, but did a better job of
concealing it both in his poetry and his poetic theory. Guo Shaoyu,
though far from applauding He, claims he was less narrow than Li and
was a somewhat more "creative" poet. Guo says that He concentrated
on a kind of attitude or spiritual consciousness, and that for him method
was, in He's own words: "The words (ci) end but the intention continues.
104"Li fushi Mengyang," Uechao shiji xiaozhuan; in Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo

lidai wenlun xuan, 60.
10SIbid, 50.
209
Link together likenesses and use analogy." Guo does not really comment
on the implication of these lines, but I think it deserves our attention
because it is in a sense poetry's answer to D a o xu e's injunction that
words not be taken for their literal value. He's method in this case is of
course in no sense unique. The notion that a reader can glean meaning
beyond the literal words, or that a skilled poet can use words which
have the capability of leading the reader beyond the words themselves
and attain impressions of feelings which the words somehow imply
without saying, had long been identified as a characteristic of superior
poetry. The use of metaphor, to say one thing and mean another by
virtue of analogy, was an example of "the words end but the intention
continues" on the level of an individual character. The use of metaphor
has the sanction of the Classics as it was identified as one of the main
poetic tropes in the Great Preface. The most famous instance is the
osprey in the first ode in the Shijing which has traditionally been interpreted
as a metaphor for the consort of the king. W hat makes significant He
Jingming's identification of metaphor as method is not that he used it to
determine what was good poetry, but the fact that he pointed to metaphor
in poetry as a solution to a philosophical impasse. As we can see in his
critique of Li Mengyang's poetics, He more or less accepted the notion
that the word was divorced from intention. And yet, as a poet committed
to reviving the ancients through attaining their method, He Jingming as
a practical matter only had the words of the ancients from which to
attain their method. The only solution to attaining method from words
which by definition could not entirely contain it was to make words that
evoke intentions which transcended their literal meanings an essential
ingredient in the poems of the ancients. By invoking m etaphor as
210
"method," He Jingming found that he could transcend the word and
read/write it too.
Li Mengyang's Rejection of Literati Language
It is perhaps curious that Li Mengyang and He Jingming would

suddenly find themselves in gross disagreement over the nature of method
given that it was the cornerstone of their shared poetics. Unfortunately
we do not have Li Mengyang's first letter to He, though we may surmise
that Li found He's latest poems lacking in some way and chose to
remind him of the tenets he thought they shared. In He's first letter in
reply, however, we see that He claimed that in fact Li Mengyang's
poetry had suddenly degenerated after he was relieved of his post as
education superintendent in Jiangxi. Typical of He Jingming and his
emphasis on the importance of sound in poetry, in his letter he again
uses a musical analogy:
Take the example of music. The various notes are brought

together and regulated so as to form a unity. If there is a
solo performance of one sound, it is difficult to create a
score. Therefore the sounds of winds and strings are the
essential subtlety. The sounds of percussion instruments
are altogether blunt.... In your compositions after Jiangxi
the words are distressed, the intention reverting to the
modem; the intention sorrowful, the words reverting to the
ordinary. The color is turbid and dark, covering any internal
pattern. Reading them is like [listening to] banging drums
and clappers.... You take gathering together the uncultivated
and rustic as classical and dignified, not only misconstruing
righteousness, but refined language and bright virtue as
211
well.106
He Jingming accuses Li Mengyang of lacking emotional and literary

complexity in his later poetry, an error which He associates with a
degeneration in Li's use of language. No longer ancient and refined, He
says that Li's poems suddenly used language which sounded contemporary
and ordinary, even to the point, if we take what He says literally, of
sounding like some uncultivated country fellow. So, He concludes, Li
has lost all sense of refined language, and therefore, virtue.
He Jingming's indictment of Li Mengyang's post-retirement poetry
is especially significant. He Jingming regards Li Mengyang's use of
simple, unrefined language associated with uneducated commoners, as a
departure from the method of the ancients. What is left unclear is if He
Jingm ing recognizes the possibility that Li Mengyang is actively
embracing a poetic stance which we have already seen taken to some
extent by Chen Xianzhang which, in any case, He rejects outright. The
fact is that Li Mengyang did indeed undergo a poetic transformation in
his later years, and Li's own account of it, as we shall see shortly,
closely corresponds with He's accusations here in several important
respects. Before we turn to this though, let us consider the connection
between the poetics of the Seven Masters and common cultural forms
and common language in general, for Li Mengyang's transformation
should also be understood in some sense as an extension of his earlier
views and not entirely as their refutation.
Yoshikawa Kojiro has argued that the poetics and poetry of the
106"Yu Li Kongtong lunshi shu," ibid., 37-8.
212
Seven Masters reflected their humble backgrounds. For Li Mengyang
specifically, Yoshikawa sees the desire to return to the ancients as a
return to simplicity which in turn was a function of his commoner
(,shumin fSifsO background.107 Li's background also influenced his poetics
which was extremely simple as w ell-just imitate the Tang masters—and
therefore provided an easy do-it-yourself blueprint for refined, aristocratic-
sounding poetry writing for those who lacked the education and
background necessary to otherwise write poetry of acceptable quality.
Yoshikawa's arguments depend in part on identifying the humble
backgrounds of Li Mengyang and the rest, and this proves possible at
times only by very careful digging on the one hand (citing Li Mengyang's
humble reference to himself as coming from a backward area), and
rather deliberate-looking omissions on the other. For instance, he does
report that Li's father was a student in the National University.108 In
addition, one of the predicaments we encounter when following
Yoshikawa's argument is that it accounts for too much. So when Li
Mengyang writes aristocratic-sounding refined poetry, it is symptomatic
of the commoner who naturally wants to be classed with the literati.
W hen Li Mengyang begins to espouse a poetics of the common man,
Yoshikawa sees this as no real transformation at all for it is only an
alternate expression of his commoner sensibilities. While I do not want
to discount the influence of origins and class, I would rather see alternate
appeals to the ancient and the common in his poetry and poetics as part
Ifl7Yoshikawa Kojiro, "Li Boyo no ichi sokumen: 'Kobunji' no shominsei" [A

Profile of Li Mengyang: The Commoner Nature of 'Ancient Phraseology1", Yoshikawa
Kojiro zensfrn, Vol. 15,630-1.
108See Yoshikawa's discussion of the Li Mengyang and the Seven Masters in

his Five Hundred Years o f Chinese Poetry, 137-53.
213
of the same strategy to reimbue literature with the moral tenor he found
lacking in the age, strategies, by the way, which appealed to a wide
cross-section of literati regardless of particular origins. The fact that a
literatus from Suzhou participated in Li Mengyang's circle is evidence
of this.
Yoshikawa's characterization of "reviving the ancients" as pursuing
simplicity is an excellent point, and one that can only be arrived at after
a thorough understanding of the Masters' poetry. We might add that
sim plicity was also characteristic of the literary inclinations of
Northerners. In the case of the Masters, they seem to have embraced
their lack of refined literary culture relative to Southerners as a virtue,
considering it a form of direct and substantial expression not buried
beneath layers of cultural adornment. In Kang Hai's brief history of the
development of northern and southern songs, for example, we can see
just such an orientation:
It is always said that the emotions of poetry and songs

largely differ. This is not so. Ancient songs and poetry
were the same and not until the writing of yuefu ballads did
a split between songs and poetry begin. The change in
poetry increased with the Song and the Yuan, making [poetry
and songs] increasingly different. Thereupon there was the
distinction between northern and southern songs. Southern
songs (nanci^ i ^ ) . ..changed into prettiness. Northern songs
(beiqu changed into simplicity and substantiality. Being
simple and substantial, the sounds are regulated and hard to
appreciate. Being pretty, it is pleasing to the ear when sung
and easy to put to music. These two are the defined distinction
between ci and qu.m
109"Pan Dong yuefu xu," in YokotaTerutoshi, "Mindai bungakuron no zenkai,"

90.
214
It is clear from his initial remarks that Kang Hai is also making a claim
about poetry when talking about songs. Northern poetry, that is the
poetry of the Masters, as opposed to the southern poetry of Li Dongyang
and Yang Shiqi, is simple and substantial. And here by substantial
Kang Hai means it conveys moral import that edifies rather than entertains.
The northern perception of simplicity as a cultural virtue was
closely associated with the poetics of "reviving the ancients," for there
had always been a persistent belief among Chinese that the ancients
pursued simplicity in all their cultural forms, and in this sense the Masters
saw themselves as the natural inheritors of ancient cultural traditions
which had long been obscured in the South. In the case of poetry, this
return to the simplicity of the ancients had an added implication, because
the first, and thus some would say foremost, section of the Shijing is
composed of the feng, or "airs," which were recognized as the songs of
the common people. On this point, He Jingming writes:
In the flourishing time of the Three Dynasties (Xia, Shang,

Zhou), the great Dao was illum ined and the kingly
transformation penetrated [to the people]. Their refined
literature was not something literati and gentleman alone
achieved. Children in the streets and women in the lanes
spoke casually and yet composed it (literature), all of classical
beauty and tranquil depth. This was something literati of
later generations did not reach.110
Here He Jingming makes explicit the correlation between the ancients,

common cultural forms, and simplicity, the latter meaning specifically a
complete lack of any literary cultivation. It should be clarified, however,
110"Guifang gao xu," He wertsu gong wenji, Vol. 2 , 9.30a.
215
that He is not merely extolling the language and literature of the common
people. He is rather extolling the simple yet dignified culture of the
common people in ancient times in order to make a contrast with
contemporary literati. For in He Jingming's mind, there probably was
not much reason to think that the common people of his day shared
much with those who lived in ancient times, though it is likely that he
believed that Northerners tended more to share the traits of the ancients
in contrast to the over-cultivated Southerners. Indeed the strategy of
extolling the simplicity of the ancients in order to attack contemporary
cultural trends was common enough. Nevertheless, if we consider that
He Jingm ing's statement was made at the time when literati were
discovering that common folk were more virtuous than the bulk of
literati, it acquires more forceful implications.
He Jingming shared this view concerning the virtue of common
people, at least to some extent. Despite He Jingming's harsh criticism of
Li Mengyang, his poetry and poetics also betrayed an interest in the
common, one striking aspect being his belief that the acme of "personal
nature and emotion" was not in the virtuous feelings of a patriotic heroic
figure, but in the love between man and w ife.111 In He Jingming's
poetry we also find the theme of virtue and loyalty between man and
wife of common station. In a poem called "Dongmen fu" [East
Gate Rhapsody], He describes a couple he encounters in the city. They
are desperately poor, to the point that the husband is on the verge of
dying of starvation. He implores his wife to leave him there by the East
Gate and save herself by offering herself to a wealthy household. She
" ‘Yoshikawa, Five Hundred. Years o f Chinese Poetry, 149.
216
adamantly refuses and vows to remain loyal to the end.112 Stylistically,
the poem is striking for two reasons. He does not just describe the
scene, but for the most part allows these people to speak for themselves,
thus writing the bulk of the poem in the form of an extended dialogue.
Despite the fact that it is a conversation between two common people,
their language shows few traces of common speech. They speak refined
classical language. This brings us back to He Jingming's criticism of Li
Mengyang. He was particularly incensed by Li's poetic language which
he thought should remain refined. He Jingming's fidelity to "refined"
language was not shared by all of the Seven Masters as we see a keen
interest in vernacular literature on the part of Kang Hai and Wang Jiusi.
After being forced into retirement due to their alleged involvement with
the Liu Jin faction at court, both Kang and Wang took up rustic life-styles
not far from each other in rural Shaanxi. Their life-styles matched their
literary interests as they were both avid composers of vernacular songs
(,sanqu ffcft) and vernacular zaju plays.113
Not unrelated to this interest in the language that common people
spoke was the increasing dissatisfaction with the educated language of
the literati class, and we see glimpses of this as well in the writings of
the Seven Masters. By far the most critical of literati language was
Wang Tingxiang. Being very politically-minded, he was distressed that
the examination system was not succeeding in bringing virtuous men to
office. Echoing Ming Taizu, Wang writes: "In the examination system
today, there is no inquiry after a man's character or moral behavior, and
u>The poem is in Dafu ji, 1.14-5.

U3Yoshikawa, Five Hundred Years o f Chinese Poetry, 152.
217
he is elevated solely on the basis of his literary compositions meeting
the standard,"114 In a sense, Wang Tingxiang is walking a fine line here,
for the "standard" for the examination essay was the language and style
of the ancients, and theoretically, if this was done successfully then the
writer could not but have an excellent character. Wang argues though,
that attaining the language of the ancients did not mean attaining their
teaching:
The ancients also taught by their own example (shenjiao M

ij). Today people depend only on their language (yanyu).
How can scholars hope to have acquisition? In recent
generations there has been a return to teaching people with
cleansing the mind, meditation, and enlightenment. As for
pursuing the many meanings and principles, the moral nature,
and the substance of human affairs, then they are confused
and unable to reach them. But [depending solely on] language
is not even as good as this.115
Wang Tingxiang was hard put to explain how one was to leam from the
examples of the ancients without depending on their words. A practical
man, he rejects a reliance on an internal mental source. His ambivalence
is expressed in his arguments which at once reject dependence on language
and decry those who would negate its importance:
Kongzi wanted not to speak because his disciples pursued

the Dao with words and he was afraid lest they fall into the
learning of language and not engage in substantial practice.
Therefore he said "Does Heaven speak?" W atching the
movements and production of Heaven, then one knows
m Wang Tingxiang ji, Vol.3, 860.

1,5Ibid„ 855.
218
Heaven. His intention was to have his disciples not to
pursue his words, but to watch his behavior, and that is
where the Dao is. Today they consider the words (yanyu)
of the sages together with their actions to be branches.
Their lack of thought is severe.116
In the end, W ang Tingxiang cannot but admit that both the words and
the actions of the sages must be considered as fundamental to learning.
Li Mengyang, initially the one most committed to imitating the
language of the ancients, in a sense came to a solution to the language-
morality/Dao dilemma by repudiating the language of the ancients and
embracing the language of the common people. I believe that in order
to account for this transformation we must consider the effect that the
Liu Jin debacle had on the official class in general and Li Mengyang in
particular, as well as Li's experiences subsequently as an education
superintendent in Jiangxi. It was in this latter capacity that Li appears to
have been particularly impressed with instances of virtuous behavior
among the common people in the area under his jurisdiction, and these
clearly contrasted in his mind with the selfish and corrupt practices of
local officials.
In a request at the time to present a record of virtuous deeds of
common people to the throne, Li explains that the stories of these people
were previously not recorded because they came from backward areas
and poor families. W hen these cases were discovered, however, local
officials "took it as an opportunity to steal food, drink, and valuables,
while suppressing the facts."117 Although it is unclear how exactly these
1I6Ibid., 835.
u7"Qing biao jieyi ben," Kongtong xiansheng ji, Vol. 3 , 39.7a.
219
officials were able to tom these accounts into profit for themselves, it is
clear that Li Mengyang is making explicit the contrast between the
virtuous deeds of commoners and the rapacious behavior of officials.
A n even more telling example of Li Mengyang's views on the
virtue of common people versus the moral degradation of officialdom is
found in his Liu lienu zhuan [Biographies of Six Virtuous
Women], again penned when Li was education superintendent in Jiangxi.
The biographies are of six common women, all of whom chose chastity
and virtue over an ignominious life by committing suicide after their
husbands died. Li Mengyang begins the work by saying that when he
first heard the stories of these women he broke down in tears. Asked at
the time why he had such an emotional reaction, Li Mengyang said that
it made him realize he was not a loyal official. Li then goes on to
explain that during the tenure of Liu Jin it was well known that Liu was
happy to commute the death sentences of officials he implicated in
crimes because "death was not profitable," meaning it became common
practice to pay bribes in order to escape punishment. The practice of
bribe-paying was so widespread in fact, says Li, that officials would
discuss what was the going rate for such and such an offense openly at
court and in the street. Li Mengyang makes reference to his own
involvement with Liu Jin by saying he was one of those who suffered
for opposing him. What Li means by saying that he was not a loyal
official is that when facing execution he also sought to escape death.
Instead of asking Kang Hai to intervene on his behalf and thereby engaging
in complicity with immoral men, Li believes he should have accepted
execution.
In contrast to the officials who escaped death by bribing the eunuch,
220
the virtuous woman chose to die. In Li's words:
These six women looked upon their demise as returning

(gui or alternatively, "betrothal") and pursued death as
they would sweets. They lay in wait, as if for the opportunity
to snatch gold or seize jade, fearful only lest they miss their
chance.118
A t the end of the biographies, Li returns to the theme of the virtuous

commoners in contrast to the corrupt officials:
These were lower class women from poor and backward

villages. They did not receive the instructions of literature
and history, the directions of fathers and elder brothers, nor
the noble background afforded in a fine home. And yet in
an instant they acted thusly. Those men in their caps and
gowns and their jangling official's pendants mouth the words
of former kings and discuss the Poetry and History {Classics}
and yet often have the greed of wolves and the hearts of
dogs.119
The women were virtuous despite their station and lack of education,
and officials are greedy wolves despite the fact that they are well-versed
in the edifying books. Particularly striking is Li Mengyang's emphasis
o n language. For one thing, he foregrounds the implicit comparison
between officials discussing the Classics and conferring over the prices
for commutation of offenses. Their displays of moral language then are
not genuine; they do not correspond to intention. The virtuous expressions
of the six women martyrs, however, are genuine precisely because they
are not schooled. Li Mengyang's objection to the unauthentic language
n8"Liu lienu zhuan," ibid, Vol. 4 , 57.6a-10a.
n9Ibid.
221
of literati translated smoothly into a powerful critique of literati poetry,
and, we might add, came into conflict with his own poetics. An example
of this is his critique of the works of the Song poet Huang Zhen Iff?
(1213-1280):
Coming to the Tang, the ancient rhythms were lost. But

the Tang had their own rhythms which were good for singing
and the superior ones were good enough to set to music.
Men of Song emphasized principle, not rhythm. Thereupon
the Tang rhythms were also lost. Huang Zhen imitated Du
Fu and was called a great poet. Today his works appear
unpolished and lifeless. Like a temple figure made of clay
and wood. You can dress it up like a person, but can you
call it a man?...Kongzi said, "When the rites are lost, seek
them in the outer regions." I have seen that the people of
the streams, seas, mountains, and swamps all know poetry
and do not use literati language.120
In an apparent reversal of his own poetics, Li Mengyang condemns

literati language for being imitative and unauthentic. People in rural
regions, unlike literati, know poetry because their language, like the
expressions of virtue of the six women martyrs, were spontaneous and
unschooled.
It was an accumulation of events which led Li Mengyang to
repudiate the language of the literati class. After he was removed from
his position as education superintendent and retired, he once again found
himself involved in political trouble in 1522 when he was accused of
conspiring in the rebellion of the Prince of Ning. He was imprisoned,
tried, and acquitted. Even though he was not found guilty of the charge,
120”Fu yin xu," Kongtong xiansheng ji, Vol. 4 , 51.4b.
222
Li was nevertheless deprived of his official status and reduced to a
commoner. It was after this event that Li Mengyang came to articulate
a poetics of the common man. The account of Li's poetic transformation
Is preserved in the preface he wrote to his collected poems in 1524.
Here is an extended excerpt of this surprising document:
In Cao County there is a certain Wang Shuwu.121 He

said to me: "Poetry is the natural sound of heaven and
earth. Today, the songs of travellers on the road, ditties in
alleyways, the chanting of laborers and humming of those
at repose, one sings and the rest fall in harmony. This is
what is authentic. This is what is called feng. Kongzi said,
'Once the rites have been lost, seek them in the outlying
regions.' Today authentic poetry is to be found among the
common people. But literary men and scholars always
looked [only] at rhyming words and called it 'poetry.' Mengzi
said, T he Poetry Classic was lost and afterwards the Spring
and Autum n Annals were written.' This was the ya ("refined,"
a poetry genre written by the literate class in the Shijing).
And the feng was thereupon discarded not to be picked up
again. How sad!"
I said: "Eh? Not so! How could this be? I have
listened to the sounds of the common people. Their melodies
are barbarian, their thoughts depraved, their voices mournful,
their cadences sappy. It is the music of the [foreign] Jin
and Yuan dynasties. How can it be 'genuine'?"
Mr. Wang said: "Authenticity is the beginning of
sound and the source of emotion. In ancient times the
empire had different customs (feng) and the customs were
turned to sounds. Today customs have been influenced by
barbarians, so how can their tunes not be barbarian?
Therefore authenticity is the beginning of sound and the
source of emotion, and does not discriminate between the
refined and the vulgar."122
121Jian Jinsong says this is Wang Chongwen (1493 j.s.).
223
Li then tells Wang that he finally understands, and so decides to discard
the Tang "contemporary style" poems and instead take as models the
songs of Li Bai and Du Fu. Wang says that this will not do, whereupon
Li suggests returning to the poetry of the previous age. W ang again
disapproves. Each time Li suggests going farther back, Wang says that
is not good enough, at one point pronouncing ancient poems as "dregs."
Finally Li realizes that literati have placed too much emphasis on skill
with words and thus lacked genuine emotion. He pronounces his own
poems "unauthentic," and ends his preface with the lament that he is
now too old to rewrite them.123
It is significant that Li Mengyang's position would end up not far
from Chen Xianzhang's, with the common emphasis that genuine poetry
can arise only if the textual tradition is discarded. We should also point
out that Li Mengyang spent the last decades of his life on the political
margin, the same place, so to speak, where Chen Xianzhang began.
This disenfranchisement from the political center encouraged both men
to embrace a view of cultivation and cultural mastery which was not
dominated by any elite group and was theoretically open to all.124 Most
im portant perhaps, both men were highly conscious of the moral
degeneration in the literati class of their day, and impelled them to
search for new sources of moral language. What ultimately sets the two
m "Shiji zixu," Kongtong xiansheng ji, Vol. 4 , 50.2b-4a.

123Ibid., 4a.
124Yoshikawa K5jirC claims that Li Mengyang's poetics was originally a
manifestation o f his commoner roots. He points out that by reducing the entire
Chinese poetic tradition to a handful of Tang poets and easy to follow methods, Li
provided a way for more common people of mundane literary talent to write good
poetry. They only had to imitate the proper models. See his Five Hundred Years of
Chinese Poetry, p. 137 ff.
224
men far apart, however, is their attitude toward the word itself. Chen
Xianzhang exhibited an extreme ambivalence toward the word in its
conventional manifestations to convey the moral fundament. Li
Mengyang, in his departure from the poetics of the grand secretariat
style, nevertheless adopted its fundamental faith in the potential unity of
the word and morality. If there was an unbridgeable chasm between the
words of literati and their intentions, it was at base a reflection of moral
turpitude, not an indictment of language. Still, the degree to which
"literati language" was also indicted by Li, and his desire to replace it
with the language of the common man, shows the extent of the culpability
o f language. If words were not entirely at fault, they nevertheless could
not be trusted.
225
C hapter 4
W ang Yangming's Doctrines
and the Struggle for the Political C enter
Reconsidering the W ang Yangming Enlightenm ent N arrative
When Li Mengyang was banished from the capital after writing

the memorial which failed to topple Liu Jin, he travelled in the company
of his old friend and now fellow exile, Wang Yangming (1472-
1529). Wang had also written a memorial in support of Liu Jin's detractors,
had been imprisoned, publicly beaten with a bamboo rod, and demoted
to director of an extremely remote mail station in Longchang, Guizhou
Province. As it was with Li Mengyang, Wang's experience with Liu Jin
was somewhat fortuitous because it appeared to have helped him realize
why literati in general, and himself in particular, had failed to realize the
Dao. While in exile at Longchang, Wang had a "sudden enlightenment,"
an experience which would transform him into the most significant
thinker of the Ming dynasty.
All accounts of his life stress that Wang Yangming underwent
several transformations before achieving final understanding. One of
these phases was that of the man of letters, consumed by poetry and
prose. Ming chronicles and contemporary treatments alike duly note
Wang Yangming's fervent pursuit of literature, but its significance is
down-played, for its role in the development of Wang Yangming and
his thought was only as a path rejected. The exact points of transformation
226
in the primary biographical materials-from knight-errant to soldier, poet,
Daoist, Buddhist’- a r e always rather sketchy, but no matter, for what
was of importance to the chroniclers was the final transformation to
Confucian sage. This sudden transformation was said to have occurred
while Wang was early in his exile, at a time when he was in a sense
entirely separated from all he had known before, in circumstances of
extreme hardship. What has perhaps become the standard account of
W ang's transformations and enlightenment experience is provided by
Huang Zongxi:
Wang's learning began with broad [involvement] in poetry

and prose, which was followed by a thorough reading of
the works of Zhu Xi. He followed the steps of the
investigation of things but observed that the principles of
things and the mind remained dual, providing no entry-point.
Thereupon he became involved in Buddhism and Daoism
for a long time. With his exile among the aborigines, the
difficulties surrounding this experience stimulated his mind
and strengthened his nature. He wondered how a sage
would behave under these circumstances and was suddenly
enlightened to the meaning of the investigation of things
and the extension of knowledge: "The Dao of the sages is
complete in my own nature. There is no need to seek it
outside." There were three transformations in his learning
before he began to access the gate. From then on he eliminated
entirely the leaves and branches and focused his mind on
the root, taking sitting in silence and purifying his mind as
learning.2
’These are what Zhan Ruoshui refer to as the "five falls" in his funerary
inscription for Wang Yangming. See Julia Ching's explanation; To Acquire Wisdom:
the Way o f Wang Yangming (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), 35 ff..
2Huang Zongxi, "Wencheng Wang Yangming xiansheng Shouren," Mingru
xuean [The Records of Ming Scholars] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985), Vol. 1,
181. My translation is based on Julia Qing, ed., The Record o f Ming Scholars
(Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1987), 104. Huang Zongxi borrowed the
227
The manner of Wang's entry into sagehood was extremely fortuitous for
his partisan chroniclers like Huang Zongxi, because a "sudden
enlightenment" is not caused in a conventional sense. It is unconditioned,
and not the end-product of an incremental development. I say fortuitous
because its sudden nature obviates the problem of how dabbling in
poetry, Daoism, and Buddhism led to a Confucian enlightenment. And
it should be stressed that although this enlightenment was Buddhist in
form -again, its sudden, unconditioned nature~it was ultimately quite
Confucian, for the realization that came with it involved a new definition
of a very specific point in Confucian doctrine. Wang suddenly realized
that the line from the Daxue concerning the investigation of things and
the extension of knowledge (gewu zhizhi was to be sought
within, not in external things. Some twelve years after his exile he
would refine the doctrine which first came from this insight, calling it
"the extension of innate knowledge" (zhi liangzhi 3£&fcn). Fortuitously
as well, the "sudden enlightenment" narrative corresponds with Wang's
post-enlightenment doctrine of liangzhi, for liangzhi was not just the
result of his enlightenment, it was the cause of his enlightenment.3 In
other words, Wang had a sudden enlightenment experience because his
post-enlightenment doctrine of liangzhi was true.
The narrative framework which posits a number of transformations
follow ed by a sudden enlightenment poses a problem for modern
three-transformation formula from Wang's disciple-biographer, Qian Dehong.

3Here liangzhi would not be a cause for enlightenment in the mundane
sense, but would function, presumably, as a seed of enlightenment much like the
tathagatagarbha in Buddhist doctrine.
.228
historians, however. Sudden enlightenment as an explanation is persuasive
only if one believes, like Huang Zongxi, that Wang's doctrines are indeed
innate to the minds of all men. Modern efforts to characterize Wang
Yangming's life have thus focused on the single thread running through
all the transformations and tying together the man, his life, and his
doctrines. These treatments therefore tend to stress the fundamental
personality or psychology of the individual which at different times
wore different hats. Qian Mu perhaps took the lead in this regard,
portraying Wang as a "hot-blooded," "heroic" character. Julia Ching
followed closely with her "mad ardor," and Tu Wei-ming was on the
same general track by defining Wang's life in terms of a psychology of
the spiritual quest.4 In addition, a sense of intellectual development is
recontoured in modem treatments through exposing the philosophical
origins of Wang's teachings, in the doctrines of Mengzi, the Song
Confucians Zhu Xi and Lu Xiangshan, as well as in his more contemporary
influences, especially Wu Yubi's student, Lou Liang, and Chen Xianzhang
through his student, Zhan Ruoshui.
A t the same time, the enlightenment narrative has not been
discounted. The experience and his doctrines are too closely wedded,
and it is these doctrines, their implications, and historical effects which
after all make Wang worthy of study. Instead of "sudden" in the Buddhist
sense, however, the enlightenment becomes the cognitive resolution5
T u Wei-ming, Neo-Confucian Thought in Action: Wang Yangming's

Youth (1472-1509) (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976), especially 121.
W m . Theodore de Bary, for example, discusses Wang Yangming's
transformation in term of an an "intellectual enlightenment." See his "Neo-
Confucian Cultivation and the Seventeenth-Century 'Enlightenment,'" in The
Unfolding o f Neo-Confucianism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1970),
176-8.
229
of a central problem in Zhu Xi's doctrine in which, as Huang Zongxi put
it, "the principles of things and the mind remained dual." For Tu Wei-ming,
for instance, this flaw in Zhu Xi's doctrines precipitated a series of
"spiritual crises" in Wang's quest. Probably the most famous one involves
the young Wang Yangming attempting to practice Zhu Xi's doctrine of
investigation of things. In the story related by Wang himself, he spent
seven days sitting in front of a bamboo "investigating" until he finally
fell ill with exhaustion. At the time Wang's reaction was to doubt that
he could achieve sagehood. His final enlightenment, however, was the
realization that Zhu Xi was incorrect. Wang realized his effort
investigating the bamboo was misguided for the "true meaning of gewu...
was to be found internally rather then externally."6
W hether a spiritual or cognitive breakthrough, chronicles and
modem accounts agree that the significance of Wang's exile experience
lies in the formulation of new philosophical doctrine, a new interpretation
of the investigation of things and the extension of knowledge which in
turn led to the formulation of his own doctrine of liangzhi. There is also
evidence, however, in Huang Zongxi's chronicle and elsewhere, that
Wang's exile experience involved a new orientation toward language. It
is significant in this regard that Huang Zongxi says Wang began his
path of learning with poetry and after his enlightenment "eliminated
entirely the leaves and branches and focused his mind on the root,
taking sitting in silence and purifying his mind as learning."7 The
leaves and branches are borrowed from Zhu Xi's metaphor, meaning
*Tu Wei-ming, Neo-Confucian Thought in Action, 120.
7"Wencheng Wang Yangming xiansheng shouren," Mingru xuean, Vol. 1,

181.
230
literature in the broadest sense. This transformation from words to
wordlessness is highlighted even more clearly in another, much more
abbreviated version of Wang's development, also provided by Huang
Zongxi:
The gentleman [Wang Yangming] received a lost learning.

After literary composition and etymology (cizhang xungu
he reversed entirely and sought it in the mind,
gaining a realization of his nature and calling it "liangzhi."*
Taken together, chronicles of Wang Yangming's experience at

Longchang also provide evidence that he continued to wrestle with the
fundamental problem of language in his exile and that his so-called
enlightenment did not provide him a solution. Historians who focus on
the nature and development of Wang's ideas tend to accept the sudden
enlightenment narrative at face value because of the insight it provides
into W ang's doctrines. They have overlooked the fact that something
qualitatively quite different in fact occurred. In this regard, Huang
Zongxi's chronicle provides most compelling evidence by virtue of the
facts it omits concerning Wang's exile and enlightenment.
W ang Yangming's biography written by his disciple Qian Dehong
(1497-1574) provides a significantly different version of his
enlightenment. First of all, Qian says that in the middle of the night
while sleeping in bed Wang heard a voice speaking to him:
[Wang] unconsciously yelled and leapt [out of bed]. His

assistants were all surprised. Then he began to know that
"the Dao of the sages is complete in my own nature" and
8Huang Zongxi "Wang Yangming Shouren," in ibid., 6.
231
that his former attempt to seek principle in [external] things
and events was an error.9
This account may surprise us as well, especially given that Wang realized
that the Dao was complete in himself. Is this what the voice told him?
From where did the voice come? Outside? Inside? Was Wang himself
uncertain as to the source of these words?
Another, much more dramatic, and problematic, difference in Qian
Dehong's version of events is his account of what transpired immediately
after Wang Yangming achieved his enlightenment. Qian continues from
the previous quotation: "Thereupon he silently recalled the words of the
Five Classics to verify (zheng §i) it. There were none that did not
match. So he wrote the Wujing yishuo [Recalled Explanations
on the Five Classics]."10 From elsewhere we leam that this book which
Huang Zongxi neglected to mention was no m inor work, for it
encompassed forty-six juan and took Wang over a year and a half to
complete.11 From Qian Dehong's account Huang Zongxi retains only
the one word, "silence" (mo). One could argue that there are excellent
reasons for Huang consciously to ignore Qian's record, for to accept it
would appear to contradict the lesson of the enlightenment in the first
place. If Wang realized that the Dao was in himself and. he did not have
to seek it outside, why would it be necessary to verify it by means of
9Qian Dehong, "Nianpu," in Wang Yangming quanshu [The Complete

Works of Wang Yangming], 4 Vols. (Taibei: Zhengzhong shuju), Vol. 4 ,8 4 .
,0Ibid.
uAs we shall see below, the written records provide conflicting testimony as
to the period of time. The shortest time suggested is seven months, nevertheless
showing that this was a prolonged effort.
232
any external standard? The need to verify his enlightenment also implies
a degree of self-doubt which in turn questions the authenticity of the
enlightenment experience.
M odem treatments of course cannot ignore Qian's record in the
manner Huang Zongxi chose to do. Both Tu Wei-ming and Julia Ching
accept Qian's version of events, but since they accept the enlightenment
narrative, they mute suggestions of self-doubt. Julia Ching says, by
writing the book, Wang was presenting the words of the Classics as
"internal evidence for his own thoughts"12 (italics in the original). By
translating the key term zheng H as "witness," Tu 'Wei-ming makes a
similar claim: "He then reflected upon the words of the Five Classics
that he had learned by heart as "witness" to his new realization. He
found that they were completely in harmony with it.13 These descriptions
suggest that the Wujing yishuo stood as a witness to Wang's enlightenment,
not for his own benefit, but for the benefit of others. W ing-tsit Chan
makes this point most forcefully in his creative attempt to solve the
dilemma:
To support his radical ideas and also to show that he did

not deviate from the Classics, he wrote the Wujing yishuo
of which only thirteen passages have survived. His ideas
did not enjoy ready acceptance.14
Chan's translation of zheng as "support" unambiguously shows that Wang

did not need to verify his enlightenment for himself, but for others-those
n To Acquire Wisdom, 54.
l3Neo-Confucianism in Action, 120.

Biography (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), Vol. 2,1410.
233
who did not readily accept his ideas fearing they deviated from the
Classics. But who were these people? In his account Chan neglects to
mention that Wang supposedly began to write the book immediately
after his enlightenment, soon after he arrived in exile. Except for possibly
his underlings and a few aborigines, no one had heard his radical ideas
yet. And even if Wang was anticipating that his new ideas would
become popular and thus engender opposition, why would he choose to
support them by writing a line by line commentary on the Spring and
Autumn Annals instead of, let's say, turning to the Mengzi where it states
quite clearly "All things are within me"?
As mentioned by Wing-tsit Chan, thirteen passages from the forty-
six juan work survived. They were discovered by none other than Qian
Dehong, and were also included by him in the collection of Wang
Yangming's works which he edited, appropriately entitled Wenlu
[Record of Writings]. In the collection, Qian prefaces these passages
with a brief discussion of their origin. This account differs in significant
ways from the one he offered in Wang's biography:
W hen our teacher was living in Longchang, his learning

achieved some measure of enlightenment. Verifying the
Five Classics, he felt that the glosses and explanations of
former Confucians were incomplete. Thereupon he made
explanatory commentaries from memory. After working
for nineteen months, the Five Classics were mostly covered.
He entitled the work "Recalled Explanations." Afterward
he felt that his learning had become more refined and his
practice simpler. Therefore he never again brought it out to
show others. I had previously taken the opportunity to ask
[to see it]. Our teacher laughed and said, "It has been a
long time since it was consumed in Qin's burning [of the
books]." I asked why [he burned it]. Our teacher replied,
234
"With only extending liangzhi, though there be a thousand
classics and ten-thousand tomes, heterodox doctrines and
twisted learning, it is like holding a scales from which no
weight under heaven can escape. Even less is there a need
to dissect and analyze sentences in order to explain to those
who receive it." Later, while mourning our teacher's death,
I happened to obtain these several passages from among
some discarded manuscripts.15
In this account by Qian Dehong, the crucial verb "verify" (zheng) appears
with a different object. No longer is it the fruits of Wang's enlightenment
which are verified, but the Five Classics, a grammar which makes the
translations of "witness" and "support" untenable in this case. Once
more, it seems that it is the "glosses and explanations" of previous
commentators which are the focus of Wang's concern, not the Classics.
The appearance of the term "gloss" (xun till) is especially striking here,
for we recall that it was an interest in etymology (xungu) from which
Wang completely turned away when he decided to seek it in the mind.
The Wujing yishuo as a supplement to the classical scholarship of previous
commentators appears even more at odds with W ang's enlightenment.
To make matters worse, Wang himself is portrayed here as disavowing
the work entirely, saying that it is but "dissecting and analyzing sentences."
An examination of the remaining fragments of the Wujing yishuo in fact
support this characterization. Each begins with a short phrase from the
Classics and is followed by a detailed explanation of the meaning of
individual characters and the import of the passage as a whole. Besides
the frequent invocation of "mind," the commentaries are striking for
their absence of radical ideas. In addition, Wang informed Qian Dehong
15nWujing yishuo shisan tiao," Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1, 125.
235
that with liangzhi one has a standard making the Classics themselves
irrelevant by comparison, let alone commentaries upon them. No wonder
Wang wanted the Wujing yishuo to remain unseen. Qian Dehong, however,
good-naturedly dismisses Wang's humble remarks and decides to include
these passages for all to see in Wang's collected works, claiming that
from them we can know that "the learning of our teacher spread from a
single source and to the end of his days he talked about it without ever
departing from this".16 By pretending the Wujing yishuo was never
written, it appears that Huang Zongxi proved himself in the end a much
more loyal disciple than Qian Dehong.
The question remains, why did Wang write the book? W hat is
the connection between the book and his epiphany in exile? Fortunately
enough, we have Wang Yangming's own account of the writing of the
Wujing yishuo, for one of the passages retrieved by Qian Dehong appears
to be a preface Wang wrote for the work. The preface is a curious
document because in it Wang criticizes the book in a manner similar to
the way he does in Qian's account above. Wang obviously wrote the
work and became disenchanted with it afterward. The preface is clearly
written after he left Longchang, but it appears not to have been written
too long after he left, for it is unlikely that years later he would dig up
an old manuscript that he regretted writing in the first place in order to
make a preface for it. Here is the passage preserved by Qian Dehong in
which Wang begins with a warning about the "trap" of language:
Catch the fish and forget the trap. Once the wine is drunk
throw out the dregs. If you have not yet obtained the fish
16Ibid.
236
and the wine and yet say, "Here, these traps and dregs,"
then fish and wine in the end will never be obtained. The
learning of the sages is complete in the Five Classics, but
speak of them to one who has already heard and they are,
in relation to the Dao, still only traps and dregs. I have
charged that Confucians of this generation seek fish in traps
and call dregs wine. Calling dregs wine appears not to be
too far off. Some wine does remain in the dregs. But as
for seeking fish in traps, the fish and the trap are far apart
indeed! In Longchang I lived amidst the endless mountains
among the aborigines. I could not carry books with me.
Every day I sat in my stone cave, silently remembering the
books I had read before and recording them. Whenever I
had some insights, I would immediately write an explanatory
gloss. After a period of seven months, I had more or less
covered the teachings of the Five Classics. I named it
"Recalled Explanations." This [book] does not necessarily
com pletely agree with [the comm entaries of] form er
worthies. I meant only to write down my own opinions
and use it to amuse myself and cultivate my nature. By
doing this therefore, I was certainly also fishing while
forgetting about the fish. I focused attention on the yeast
and did not sincerely point to the flavor [of the wine].
Alas! Looking at my "Explanations" and not obtaining
their (the sages') mind, I believe this is also traps and dregs.
If one proceeds to seek in it fish and wine, then one will
miss it entirely. Altogether the "Explanations" are in forty-six
juan. Ten ju a n for each Classic, but the explanations on
the Rites [Classic] still has many omissions and only amount
to six ju a n .11
Wang again is severely critical of his own book, and his suggestion here
that he had been focusing on the "trap" when he wrote the Wujing
Yishuo is consistent with his characterization of the work as "dissecting
and analyzing sentences" in his remarks to Qian Dehong. W ang's
17Ibid, 126.
237
composition of the Wujing yishuo is duly noted by modern scholars,
though the fact that he in turn disavowed it is normally left unmentioned.
Indeed that would unnecessarily complicate the enlightenment narrative.
If he wrote the book as witness to his enlightenment and then later
disavowed the book, then does this not again undermine the validity of
the original enlightenment experience? The only scholar I have found
who deal with Wang's preface at any length is Tu Wei-ming. Commenting
on the line from the preface most damning of the enterprise of the
Wujing yishuo, Tu writes:
With a touch of humor, he (Wang) remarks, "What I have

been doing with it is like fishing without any thought of
catching." To him, the work was but an instrument for, or
record of, his own spiritual quest.18
After reading both Qian's and Wang's prefaces, Tu Wei-ming still insists
that the Wujing yishuo is a witness to the authenticity of W ang's
enlightenm ent, the validity of which he does not question. The
enlightenment, after all, is the culmination of the "spiritual quest." In
fact, the claim that the Wujing yishuo may have even been an "instrument
fo r...h is own spiritual quest," although softened in this case by the
curious use of the word "but," goes even farther in binding the book to
Wang's epiphany.
In W ang Yangming's own version of events in his preface, we
find that he did not write the Wujing yishuo due to any insights gained
as a result of an enlightenment experience. The book began merely as
an attempt to recall and record the Five Classics since Wang was not
lsNeo-ConJucian Though in Action, 139.
238
able to bring any books with him into exile and none were available at
Longchang. His motives, besides the fact that he did not have any
books, were not to verify anything, but merely to lift his spirits and
engage in some sort of constructive activity aimed at personal cultivation.
Tu Wei-ming nevertheless finds additional evidence for the enlightenment
narrative by conflating Wang Yangming's and Qian Dehong's prefaces
and attributing Qian's words to Wang. Tu writes:
According to Yang-ming's own statement, in a period of

nineteen months imm ediately follow ing his sudden
enlightenment, he briefly examined all of the Five Classics,
and this had resulted in a work consisting of forty-six ju a n .19
We recall that it was according to Qian Dehong, not Wang, that the
Wujing yiskuo was written after an enlightenment. Tu Wei-ming's defense
of the enlightenment narrative forces him to ignore the mundane
circumstances surrounding the compilation of the Wujing yishuo as related
by Wang in his preface, and dismiss Wang's own criticisms of the work
as "humor." It also forbids him from questioning why it would take
nineteen months to ("briefly"?) examine the Five Classics in order to
"witness the authenticity of his new realization."20
The contents of the Wujing yishuo, the time when it was written,
the period of time it took to complete, discrepancies in the historical
records, and most of all Wang's own statements regarding the work and
its compilation, together forcefully suggest that a reconsideration of
Wang Yangming's "sudden enlightenment" is in order. I think it is clear
19 Ibid., 137-8.
20Ibid., 137
239
by now that Wang did not have an enlightenment experience like the
one described by either Qian Dehong or Huang Zongxi within the first
eight to eighteen months of his exile.21 Wang obviously did have some
sort of change of mind and decided that it was an error to search for the
mind of the sages in external things, especially in the trap of words. But
this insight did not come until after he wrote the Wujing yishuo, either at
a time well into his exile, or closer to the time he wrote this preface,
after he had already left Longchang.
W e may ponder why Qian Dehong, who apparently knew the
facts, wrote such a different version of events in W ang's biography.
W ithout going into an exploration of all the possibilities, I think the
most reasonable explanation is that it is the version of events W ang
Yangming told Qian and his other disciples. Wang Yangming never
showed anyone the manuscript and did not discuss it, for clearly it
contradicted the very doctrine he was trying to impress on his students
and the tale of its origins. Wang himself suppressed the text and he was
likely the one who omitted the Wujing yishuo as well from the
enlightenment narrative. Somehow of course Qian Dehong got wind of
the book, but even then Wang refused to show it to him or discuss it.
W hen Qian found portions of the book and wanted to include them, he
was faced with the problem that they were written at the very same time
as Wang's enlightenment, though less "suddenly," and he combined the
21At this point it may be noted that the enlightenment narrative is completely
absent from the short biography in Wang's funerary oration written by Zhan Ruoshui.
It is possible that Zhan either never heard about it or did not believe it. Zhan marks
their pact to pursue sagehood before Wang's exile as the point when Wang entered
upon the true path. Wang would later claim that he grew in understanding beyond
Zhan, and though they remained friendly, could be critical of him. Thus Zhan may
have had ulterior reasons to omit the story of Wang's enlightenment.
240
two narratives as best he could.22
Qian combined the narratives in a manner not very plausible,
however. Therefore we have attempts to either do away with it (Huang
Zongxi) or explain it away (Wing-tsit Chan). It would have simplified
matters immensely if Wang Yangming had merely included all the facts
and changed the chronology a little, for instance placing the event of the
enlightenment after the completion of the Wujing yishuo. This would,
however, have given the wrong message to his students who might have
then been compelled to lock themselves away with the Five Classics in
order to duplicate the circumstances of their teacher's enlightenment.
Instead Wang replaced the story of the compilation of the Wujing yishuo
with a narrative which was its thematic opposite. Instead of gaining
insights from the Classics, he claimed he gained insight from his own
mind. I do not believe he set out necessarily to distort the facts. I
believe he merely felt extremely ambivalent about the book and its
composition, and the narrative he replaced it with points to the precise
nature of that ambivalence. Wang Yangming felt ambivalent about
relying on language to pursue or convey the Dao, and when he rejected
language, he felt ambivalent about that, too. W e will see that W ang
Yangming swung back and forth from dependence on words to its rejection
several times in his lifetime, symptomatic of a chronic ambivalence
22One would suppose that Qian constructed the facts concerning the
composition from the preface penned by Wang. The time Qian said it took to write
the book differs from the time given in the preface, however. It is also curious that
the preface is not included in certain collections. For instance, it is missing from the
Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji. It is striking though that the eight characters
following the date in Qian's preface corresponds exactly (except op is substituted for
) to Wang's preface which suggests that parts of Qian's preface at least were
copied from a written source.
241
toward language. This ambivalence, I would argue, is still apparent in
his preface to the Wujing yishuo.
Tu Wei-ming, again the only scholar to have dealt with the material,
reads in the preface an unambiguous message, one which stitches together
Wang's enlightenment, the Wujing yishuo, and his post-enlightenment
doctrines into one seamless tableau:
In the preface, Yangming borrows the famous analogy of

the fish and the net in the Z h u a n g zi to explicate the
relationship between the words of the classics and the
intentionality of the sages. Acquiring an experiential
understanding of the intentionality of the sages by studying
the words of the classics, he states, is analogous to catching
fish with a net. To equate the words of the classics with
the intentionality of the sages is to identify the net with the
fish. As one cannot find any fish in the net without actually
involving oneself in fishing, so one cannot grasp the
intentionality of the sages without really becoming engaged
in an experiential understanding of the words of the
classics.23
Tu W ei-ming tells us that the "experience of fishing" is the key to

understanding the import of Wang's metaphor. By doing so, he suggests
that W ang approved of grasping the intentionality of the sages through
an "experiential understanding" of the words in the classics, apparently
making the Wujing yishuo a legitimate act of "fishing". According to
Tu, it seems Wang objected to two things: Gathering traps in the mistaken
understanding that they are fish, that is identifying words with the
intentionality of the sages, and using traps while not engaged in the act
of fishing, which I imagine means reading the classics while not engaged
23Neo-Confucian Thought in Action, 138.
242
in "experiential understanding." Though appearing both consistent with
Wang's doctrines, especially the unity of knowledge and action, and the
Wujing yishuo as a legitimate net to catch sagely fish, Tu is forced to
compromise the wording of the preface to make his point, made more
possible by the fact that, except for the "humorous" line above, he does
not quote directly from the preface. In the preface, Wang does not say
he objects to Confucians identifying fish with traps. He says he objects
to them "seeking fish in traps" (qiu yu yu quan a line he
repeats, so there is no question about the use of the pronoun "in." Clearly,
W ang objects to seeking an understanding of the intention of the sages
through words. And this is of course the reason he disavowed the
Wujing yishuo. He directly calls his book a "trap" and warns that if
anyone "seeks fish in it" they will be fishing in vain. This is the
clear-cut implication of the metaphor.
We cannot help but feel puzzled, however. If Wang Yangming's
point is that we are not to pursue the intentions of the sages in words,
why does he use the metaphors of the fish and the trap in the first place?
After all, if we seek to catch fish, then is a trap not ideally suited to our
purposes? Wang uses a metaphor whose most obvious and natural
implication is that if we want to catch fish, we must use a trap, or, if we
want to catch fish, a trap is all we need. The apparent dissonance
between Wang's own words and his intentions may be partly explained
by the fact that he borrowed the metaphor from the Zhuangzi. It nicely
made the point for him that a separation exists between all words and
the intentions of their speakers, an initial proposition necessary for Wang's
more radical claim. A problem occurred though when Wang wanted to
make the point that we in effect should forget the trap before we catch
243
the fish. Ultimately, I believe his metaphorical quandaries were a result
of his own ambivalence toward the function and value of the word. For
instance, Wang is unambiguous when he says that the Wujing yishuo is
a trap in which we will find no fish, but he appears much less certain
when appraising the utility of the Five Classics. They, too, are traps,
but only when "spoken of to one who has already heard." This only
makes sense if we consider the metaphor in the way it was originally
used in the Zhuangzi, that is, for those who have already obtained the
learning of the sages, the Classics are a trap to be discarded. In other
words, the trap is indeed what excels in catching fish, but is useless to
those who already have all the fish they would ever want or need. Yet
in Wang's day, who had "already heard"? Wang came to realize that the
traps weren't working; words were not catching the intentions of the
sages like they were supposed to. It was an obvious conclusion to arrive
at. The world was full of people reading and reciting the Classics and
yet everyone seemed ignorant of the Dao. No one had heard. Yet was it
not possible to catch fish if one only had the right trap? From the point
of view of Wang's life-long ambivalence toward the word, his "quest," if
one can speak in those terms, was to discover the right trap.
Ambivalence toward Language
Wang Yangming exhibited an ambivalence toward language at an

early age. His childhood was markedly different from wunderkindem
like Li Dongyang. At five years old, little Wang had not yet uttered a
single word. Fortunately for him and his distressed parents, changing
244
Wang's name from Yun # (cloud) to Shouren (maintain humanity)
cured Wang's affliction. Not only cured, Wang soon became a prodigy
of language. By age ten, he was astounding adults with his
contemporaneous poetic compositions.24 Instead of reveling in the
approbation of the elders, however, the young Wang was reported to
have replied that literary achievement was frivolous.25
A t the age of 17 we find him studying late into the night and his
writing (wenzi JC.¥) improving by the day.26 At 20 he passed the
provincial exam inations. A fter this period of intense literary
concentration, he turned away from his books and turned instead to the
bamboo. His response to the failure to attain the principle of bamboo is
significant. Unsuccessful with silently investigating things, he returned
to the "learning of words and paragraphs."27 The next year, 1493, he
travelled to the capital to take the metropolitan exam, but failed. By this
time he had already cultivated a relationship with Li Dongyang. After
failing the exam, Li reportedly consoled Wang, saying, "This year you
did not pass but next examination you are sure to be optimus.',28 It was
at this time that Wang also likely made friends with Li Mengyang. Li
also took the metropolitan examination for the first time that year, though
MIbid., 23. See also Wang Shizhen, Mingqing jiji [Record of the
Accomplishments of Officials of the Ming Dynasty] (jilu huibian, Vol. 32), 2.8a-b.
MNeo-Conjucian Thought in Action, 24.
26Wang Yangming, Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji [The Complete

Collection o f Mister Wang Yangming's Works] (1568; rpt., Shanghai: Zhonghua
tushuguan, 1913), 32.2b.
"Ibid.
MQian Dehong, "Nianpu", ibid., 32.2b. Li is alluding to the fact that Wang's
father was an optimus. This may also be why Li Dongyang favored the son.
245
unlike Wang, he received the jinshi. The most persuasive evidence that
Wang began to forge close ties with Li Dongyang and his literary disciples
while in the capital at this time was his subsequent concentration on
poetry. After his failed examination attempt, he returned home and
there organized a poetry society.29 At twenty-five he again took, and
failed, the metropolitan examination. This failure was perhaps the
beginning of another subsequent disenchantment with the pursuit of
literature. At twenty-seven he is said to have felt that "the art of words
and paragraphs are insufficient to attain the Dao."30 This indicates that
his concentration on poetic composition and his founding a poetry society
were undertaken with the utmost seriousness and were in no sense a
frivolous enterprises, for with his poetry, and perhaps even with the
book-reading and literary exercises necessary for examination preparation,
he had been trying to attain the Dao, through words. He was in some
confusion until
one day he read Zhu Xu's memorial to Song Guangzong. It

said: "To abide in reverence and hold fast the will is the
root of reading. Step by step until gaining the essence is
the method of reading." Thereupon he regretted that in his
former days although his investigation of poetry was broad,
he never proceeded step by step to gain the essence. Naturally
he did not obtain anything. He again proceeded step by
step and his thought achieved penetration, but in the end
the principles of things and his mind remained divided in
two. After being despondent for a long time his illness
flared up again and he gave up on sagehood. He happened
to hear a Daoist priest talking about the preservation of life
and then had the idea of leaving the world and entering the
29"Nianpu,B32.3a.
^bid.
246
mountains.31
Here we see added indication that Wang's concentration on poetry was

an attempt to gain some sort of understanding. It is not clear from this
paragraph whether Wang's renewed attempts to reach the essence after
reading Zhu's words were directed toward poetry. Given that the subject
of Zhu's words here is reading, it seems certain that Wang again engaged
himself in literary and textual activity.32 That he, once again, became
disappointed with the results is by now not surprising, though we do not
have to believe his disappointment was caused by the precise doctrinal
difficulty stated by Qian here. It is very interesting that Wang found
Zhu Xi's thoughts on reading so attractive. It supports the contention
that Wang had been struggling with the problem of words, and Zhu Xi
was useful in that he offered the possibility of a solution. It was a
middle position between reliance on and rejection of the word. The
value of words was ultimately upheld by Zhu Xi, but their importance in
the task of reading/cultivation was clearly subordinated to a prior
achievement of mental reverence, will, etc.. The fact that Wang in the
. end found Zhu Xi's ideas unsatisfactory was likely because it indeed
was a middle position but ultimately did not really offer a solution.
Reading Zhu Xi is similar to reading Wang's preface to the W ujing
yishuo. In both cases we are left to puzzle what the relationship between
3IIbid.
32At this point we may note that on occasion Wang makes statements
concerning the proper method of reading which correspond almost exactly to Zhu
Xi's discussions. For instance: "Whenever reading the words (yanyu) of the
ancients, try and understand their general import. If you get mired in the meanings
of the text, then you will only have disconnected fragments. ( Chuanxi lu, Part 2,
Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1,53.)
247
words and Dao really is. In the end here, Wang appears to reject the
path of reading and writing entirely and embrace a life of mystical
spiritual cultivation.
The most curious thing about this last line stating Wang's desire
to go into seclusion is the entry which follows it in the biography. The
next entry states that instead of retreating from the world he not only
remained in the capital, but also once again took the metropolitan
examination, this time successfully, receiving an appointment as an
observer in the Ministry of Works. Later he was made a secretary in the
Ministry of Justice where he worked in the less prestigious Yunnan
Bureau. It was during this time that Wang Yangming returned to the
poetic enterprise, joining Li Mengyang, He Jingming and their coterie
of young poets seeking to revive the language of the ancients. We do
not have much information about Wang's involvement besides that he
was a member of the group. In most accounts of Wang Yangming's
association with the Seven Masters, if more than mere mention is made,
they and their enterprise are criticized or otherwise discounted as a
moral and spiritual dead end. For instance, it was due to dissatisfaction
with his post, suggests Wang Shizhen, that Wang Yangming spent his
days with Li Mengyang and his friends intent on composing poetry and
prose, "working to come up with strange lines."33 W ang's partisan
biographers are even more critical. For them, the effort to revive the
ancients in poetry and prose was entirely inconsistent with Wang's mature
philosophy and thus Wang is portrayed less than a partner in their cause
33Mingqing jiji, 2.8b. Wang Shizhen's comments here are surprising since it
appears to indict die Seven Masters even though Wang h\Mingshie\f was a member
of the Latter Seven Masters in the late Ming.
248
than an outside critic. One of the few positive comments comes from
W ang himself in his funeral inscription for Xu Zhenqing, one of the
Seven Masters. Wang writes that Xu and the other Masters, by "polishing
words and paragraphs, they heroically established their energies and
thoughts."34 Wang of course would know best, and evidently at the
time he too considered poetic composition as a heroic act. The funeral
oration was written in 1521, after Wang's formulation of liangzhi and
much more decisive rejection of literary arts. Strikingly similar to Qian
Dehong's account of Wang Yangming's life, Wang describes Xu Zhenqing
as also undergoing "three transformations," the final one rejecting his
previous faith in the word. Xu realized, writes Wang, that literary
composition had little to do with humanity (ren) and that it harmed his
body and spirit. This is why he turned to Daoist cultivation and "practiced
preserving life."35 Here another similarity is striking. The biographical
accounts of Wang's involvement with the Seven Masters mention both a
disenchantment with words and the deleterious physical effects they
engendered. Wang's biography states:
His old acquaintances (the Seven Masters) were all studying

ancient poetry and prose to compete with each other for
fame and profit. The gentleman sighed and said: "How can
I devote my limited spiritual energy to useless and empty
literature (wen He then pleaded illness and returned
to the South.36
34,1 Xu Changguo muzhi" (1511), Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji, 25.2b-

3b.
3SIbid. Some have suggested that Xu's final transformation was influenced
by Wang Yangming. See Jian Jinsong, Mingdai wenxue piping yanjiu [A Study of
Literary Criticism o f the Ming Dynasty] (Taibei: Taiwan xuesheng shuju, 1989),
300.
249
Another biography by Wang's disciple Huang Wan fUgg (1480-1544),
who was also a practitioner of guwen before his own transformation, is
more explicit in relating W ang's intense involvement in literary
composition during this time, claiming that this caused him actually to
fall seriously ill:
Every evening he would return home and without fail light

the lamp and read the Five Classics and the books from
before the Qin and the two Han dynasties to improve the
craft of his writing (wei wenziyi gong ^ B e c a u s e
of this he contracted a consumptive illness (literally
"vomiting blood”) and returned home to recuperate.37
These two different accounts are not entirely contradictory. It is likely

that W ang did indeed become ill, and whether or not the case was from
reading and writing too much, the fact remains that in Wang's mind
literature was associated with degeneration of physical energy and thus
this is likely the way he interpreted his illness, especially if he related
the incident to his students in order to make a pedagogical point. He
would later warn that literary activity causes just such depletion. In one
of these warnings, Wang Yangming used Zhu Xi's tree analogy, but in
this case with a twist:
Those who plant trees must nourish the root. Those

who cultivate morality must nurture the mind. If you
want a tree to grow tall, you must remove excessive
branches during the initial stages of growth. If you
want morality to flourish, you must abandon outside
enjoyments during the initial stages of learning. For
^"Nianpu," 32.4a.
37Huang Wan, "Yangming xiansheng xingzhuang," Wang Yangming
quanshu, Vol. 4,228-9.
250
instance, if one has the outside enjoyment of poetry
and literature, then spiritual energy will gradually
become depleted on poetry and literature.38
It was not enough for Wang merely to give priority to the root in order
that the branches may grow. Branches had to be cut for the tree to
flourish. The psycho-physically deleterious effects of literature claimed
by Wang here are similar to those encountered by Wang Bi, though
Wang Yangming is much more conscious that the cause of such depletion
must be eliminated lest it literally consume the student. Once again, the
exertion Wang associated with literary activity and the extreme intensity
with which he engaged in the effort to recapture the wen of the ancients
makes it clear that he was not merely intent on improving his literary
craft.
Wang's reaction to his illness/disenchantment was the same as the
one he imputed to Xu Zhenqing, for Wang reportedly retreated to the
mountains and engaged in some sort of Daoist exercises to regain his
health. We also see this same pattern of illness, rejection of language,
and political retreat in an account Wang Yangming wrote about his
disciple Fang Xianfu 2f (I486-?; 1505 js .)\
I have known Shuxian (Fang Xianfu) for two years (since

1509) and have seen his learning change three times. At
first he esteemed words ( ci ISO, then he changed and discussed
theories (jiangshuo !$!&), then he changed again and wholly
set his will upon the way of the sages.39
38Chuanxi lu, Part 1,27.

39"Bie Fang Shuxian xu," Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1,177.
251
That same year (1511) Fang pleaded illness and returned to Guangdong
where he established an academy on Xiqiao Mountain with Zhang Ruoshui
and another disciple of Wang's, Huo Tao 11^(1487-1540), and remained
their for the next ten years. Zhang Ruoshui as well associated literary
endeavor with wasting spiritual energy, specifically writing poetry with
attention to craft and symmetry.40
Two years after his illness, Wang returned to government service
in the capital. A year later at the age of thirty-four he began to accept
disciples. At this point his biography relates that his disenchantment
with words remained unwavering, for he found that the major defect of
his new students was that they were immersed in composition, memorizing
and reciting (cizhang jito n g ). It is at this juncture of his life as well that
he makes a pact with Zhan Ruoshui to illumine the learning of the sages
together.41 No doubt Chen Xianzhang's belief that one ought to discover
the source of wisdom in oneself instead of in books appealed to Wang
Yangming at this point. Given Wang's long-term concentration on poetry
as a vehicle for the Dao, it is likely that Chen's views in this regard, and
Zhan's efforts to use Chen's poetry in order to "illumine the learning of
the sages" appealed to Wang as well. Thus Wang's cooperation with
Zhan suggests another attempt to find a middle way between words and
wordlessness, a point supported by his later criticism of Zhan at a time
when Wang had radicalized his anti-language doctrine. Wang's career
in the capital came to an abrupt end with the rise to power of Liu Jin and
his subsequent exile to Longchang. It should be noted that Wang was
40Mingdai wetvcue piping yanjiu, 214.
41"Nianpu," 32.4b.
252
first imprisoned for two months before being beaten and sent into exile.
While in prison, Wang engaged in two activities worthy of mention: he
wrote poetry and read the classics.42 This is more evidence to support
the assertion that the Wujing yishuo was not the result of some mental
transformation, for it was largely a continuation of his activities as a
m em ber of Li Mengyang’s coterie when, we recall, he specifically
concentrated on the Five Classics, and during the period immediately
prior to his exile when he studied the Classics in prison.
Wang's doubts about the value of words did subsequently deepen
considerably, however. In 1509, a year after his initial exile, Wang
formulated the doctrine of "the unity of knowledge and action." Again
here Wang seems to be staking out a middle road. From the standpoint
of Song Lixue this was certainly an effort to find a compromise position,
for the doctrine represented Wang's realization that Zhu Xi and Lu
Xiangshan were both partly correct and partly incorrect.43 From the
point of view of language, Wang continued to uphold the value of
gaining knowledge from book-reading with the caveat that it must be
accompanied with non-linguistic, moral "action." It was an effort not
only to unify knowledge and action, but also to separate moral knowledge
from the word. The separation was not made entirely, however, and in
this regard it is instructive that Qian Dehong claims Wang once again
"verified" his new formulation with the classics.44 At this point, ultimate
42Among the poeMingshi written while in prison, there is one entitled "Reading
the Change Classic” (D u yi) in which Wang says he read the Change in order to
"purify the mind" (xixiri). See Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji, 19.8b-9a. It may
be significant that Huang Zongxi says Wang practiced "purifying his mind"
immediately after his enlightenment.
^"Nianpu," 32.5b.
253
priorities between the mind and the word had not been established.
Those priorities were clearly established only when Wang formulated
his doctrine of Hongzhi some time later.
Escaping the T rap of Language
Wang Yangming's preface to the Wujing yishuo was likely written

sometime after the formulation of the doctrine of zhixing heyi and before
the formulation of liangzhi. His attitude toward the "trap of language"
at the time was highly ambivalent. The problem of language was not
confined to the inappropriate literary practices of the shidaifu who were
obsessed with traps instead of fish, or who were reading and writing
without engaging in moral action. The problem was also located within
language itself. Wang knew this as a reader, but also as a writer. In a
letter W ang wrote in 1513, that is, likely not long after he wrote the
preface to the Wujing yishuo, he complained that when he wrote there
was always something missing, that his mind was clear, but "the words
do not exhaust the intention."45 Due to the nature of language there was
always a certain unbridgeable distance between intention and words.
No matter how intent one is on catching fish, it seemed impossible to
get one to swim completely into a trap.
Even though Wang believed that the traps were not working, at
the time he wrote his preface he retained a commitment to language on a
'"Ibid.
““"Yu Hu Bozhi," Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 2, 13.
254
fundamental level. In one sense, he was discarding traps which plainly
did not work, like the Wujing yishuo, while continuing to search for a
better trap, or, a way to make the trap work. One strategy to accomplish
this which Wang at least considered was the use of metaphor. In a letter
Wang recounts that he received a letter from his friend and rival Zhan
Ruoshui. In it Zhan used the analogy of eating for learning. He wrote,
"If it satiates your hunger, you need not inquire as to the ingredients of
the meal." Wang took exception to Zhan's wording:
This language certainly has a defect. It cannot record what

[Zhan] was pointing to at the time, and I am afraid it also
speaks to those who deliberate and discuss but do not pursue
"steeping oneself [in the Dao because one wishes] to find it
in oneself."46 Therefore the distance between his language
(yu If) and his intention (yi M) is too great.... Whenever
words (yan W) and intention cannot be conveyed (da H),
there is often reliance on m etaphor so that the
meaning/intention will match one's will (zhi M) and in this
way attain it. But if one gets mired in written language
(wen X ) and forms (xiang WC) then even if they are the
words of the sages, one will still not be without defect, let
alone when our learning is incomplete! Between words (ci
shJ) and meaning/intention (yi M), there is a fundamental
discrepancy47
Wang recognizes the use of metaphor as a possible strategy to deal with

the fundamental discrepancy between word and meaning, although here
he also discounts its effectiveness. This letter was written much later
46Mengzi zhushu, in Shisanjing zhushu [The Thirteen Classics, with

Commentaries and Subcommentaries], 2 Vols., compiled by Ruan Yuan, (reprint;
Shanghai: Zhonghua shuju, 1979), 8a.62c. Based on D.C. Lao's translation in his
Mencius (New York: Penguin Books, 1984), 130.
'’’"Yu Gu Weixian," Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 2,96-7.
255
than the preface, at a time when Wang's mistrust of language had deepened.
Yet there is ample evidence that Wang himself consciously employed
metaphor in order to try to bridge the gap between intention and word.
A cursory glance at Wang's writings reveal him to be a master of the
metaphor, and I think we can say that his prolific use of metaphor
represented an almost constant sensitivity to the problems inherent to
language. Wang's use of the metaphors of the fish and the trap is itself
an example, as is his use of the tree analogy. These are by no means
isolated examples. In fact it is hard to find a passage in Wang's writings
in which he does not employ some kind of metaphor.
Even though metaphor was another path discarded for Wang, it
may be useful to ponder for a moment why he used metaphor at least to
try to bridge the intention-word gap. The answer is by no means clear.
We know that metaphors are used because there are analogous qualities
between, let's say, fishing and learning or one's moral nature and the
root of a tree. But this does not explain why "tree root" matches intention
better than "moral nature." It may even be easier to argue that metaphor
only widens the gap. I believe that part of the answer lies in the fact that
W ang's metaphors are overwhelmingly words for things in the natural
world: trees, sun, water, grass, etc.. This was not accidental, for it
seems Wang saw in nature the concrete expressions of the moral doctrines
he wanted to take about. The impulse here to by-pass the inadequacy of
language by appealing directly to nature is also found in pre-Qin Daoism.
For example, even though the Dao cannot be put into words, in the
L a o zi we have repeated claims like: "The Dao in the world can be
compared to valleys and streams [flowing] into rivers and seas." In
comparison, consider Wang's incorporation of nature to discuss "sincerity"
256
(cheng M) in his "Nangang shuo" [Explanation of the Southern
Ridge]:
The Dao of heaven and earth is nothing but sincerity. The

learning of the sages is nothing but sincerity. Sincere, thus
never ceasing, long-lasting, complete, vast and broad.
Heaven is sincere and is therefore forever clear. Earth is
sincere and is therefore forever solid. The sun and moon
are sincere and therefore forever luminous. Now as for the
southern ridge, it is just fist-sized stones piled together, but
it size and age reach to heaven and earth without limit.
Insincere, would it be able to be thus? Therefore, gazing at
the cliffs of the southern ridge, they are but sincere cliffs.
Gazing at the ravines of the southern ridge, they are but
sincere ravines. Gazing at the peaks and precipices of the
southern ridge, they are but sincere peaks and precipices.
They are all the sincerity of real principle (shili ffJI) and
are not falsely represented by em pty, fake literary
embellishment.48
In this passage Wang is elaborating on the dichotomy of names and'

reality (mingshi contrasting the "real principle" of the southern
ridge to language which is false, that is, principles which are merely
spoken. The implication is that nature has the power to express the
intention of the sages-the real principles the sages tried to comm unicate-
precisely because nature does not use language. The ridge itself is
sincere. There is no divergence between the sincerity of the ridge and
its expression because there are no intervening words. This passage
then, suggests why Wang Yangming was at least attracted to the trope
of nature, although he ultimately did not find there an effective
metaphorical trap, only renewed conviction that nature was everything
‘“ "Nangang shuo," ibid., Vol. 1,266
257
language was not.
Given the apparently insurmountable problem of the trap of
language alone, it is not surprising that Wang became increasingly
distrustful of the ability of language to convey intention, especially the
intention of the sages. Rather than catching intention, even partially,
W ang came to view words as more likely to obscure intention rather
than convey it: "The Dao cannot be spoken of (yan if), force it into
words (yan) and the more obscure it becomes."49 Therefore it was
language, not just poetry or etymology, but any language which separated
the student from the goal of sagehood: "As long as the learner is mired
in language, the mind will have no substantial attainment. This is really
a great malady."50
A great malady indeed, and one that called for drastic measures if
a cure was to be effected. If language obscured intention, if traps did
nothing but scare away fish, there was nothing left to do but to wean
shidaifu from language and throw out the traps. This is exactly what
Wang set out to do, to get rid of as much of the trap as possible through
a radical reduction of the Confucian literary corpus. Wang justified his
enterprise by arguing that getting rid of excess language was the object
of the sages themselves:
[The sages used words] yet they did not dare to say too
much fearing people would exclusively seek it in words.
Therefore [Kongzi] said, "I prefer not to speak"... and "When
they had doubts, historians of old omitted the text."51 Mengzi
49"Jianzhai shuo," ibid., 160.
“ Ibid., 114.
slLunyu zhushu, Shisanjing zhushu, 15.62a.
258
said, "It is preferable to have no Documents [Classic ] than
to believe it [entirely]. In the "Wucheng" [chapter of the
Documents Classic] I accept only two or three passages."52
Kongzi edited the Documents Classic and four or five
hundred years from Emperors Tang and Yu through the
Xia dynasty did not take more than a few chapters.... The
intention of the sages can be known [from this]. The sages
only wanted to delete excessive text. Later Confucians
only wanted to add on.53
In this context the elusive "intention of the sages" is to be known not

through their words per se, but from their conscious omission of words.
Wang's mission as he sees it becomes omitting the text and reducing the
corpus until one is left with what is essential.
The doctrine of liangzhi was at the center of Wang's attempt to
wean shidaifu from language. This task of reducing the broad literary
corpus to its essentials was, according to Wang, nothing else but the
extension of liangzhi: "'Seeking broadly in literature in order to gain the
essence of the rites is the same as investigating things in order to extend
one's liangzhi"5* Extending liangzhi was not only the practice essential
to the Confucian enterprise. The textual source of the two-character
compound "liangzhi" is a single character "zhi" in the D axue, literally
all that was left after reducing the Confucian corpus to its most essential
and salient words. In this case therefore, Wang does not, cannot, question
the ultimate value of words, for "liangzhi" is a word, and indeed claims
its authority from being a word in the classics. This admission of the
S2Mengzi zhushu, 14a. 109b.
s Chuanxi lu, Part 1, Vol. 1,8.

54,1 Boyue shuo" Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1,164.
259
value of words in turn makes the enterprise of reduction all the more
necessary, for the challenge then becomes to distinguish the essential
words from the superfluous. It should be noted that not only is liangzhi
the solution for the need to seek the essential in the classics, but serves
the same purpose within Wang's own doctrines and writings as well.
During Wang's own lifetime there were already conflicting interpretations
of his doctrines among his disciples, who in turn began to add on their
own words. The most well-known early example is the disagreement
over Wang's doctrines between Qian Dehong and Wang Ji 3:11 (1498-
1583). In his preface to Wang’s Wenlu Qian in fact complains that some
were taking Wang's ideas formed in his younger years as his mature
teachings, and therefore Qian decided to solve the problem by "completely
deleting" them. Lest one get lost in Ms substantial body of words or the
twists and turns of his own intellectual development, Wang himself
pointed out: "What I learned in my life are only the three characters 'zhi
lia n g zh i'& m O."55
By making all other characters superfluous, liangzhi perhaps solves
some of the most egregious maladies of the age, and the ones Wang
Mmself suffered from at various stages throughout Ms life-etymological
analysis of the classics, capturing the literary style of the ancients, and
studying for the civil service examinations. Liangzhi, however, does
much more than that. It solves the fundamental dilemma of language.
s5"Ji Zheng Xiannan shoumo," Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji, 26.12a. It

may be noted that John Henderson has argued that such reductionism is a strategy
used to clarify doctrine common to iate-scholastic traditions in general. He makes
no mention of anti-language currents in Chinese Buddhist and Confucian culture.
His claim also appears to be contradicted by the rise of evidential learning in the
Ming and Qing dynasties. See his Scripture, Canon, and Commentary: A Comparison
o f Confucian and Western Exegesis, Princeton, 1991, especially page 180.
260
Liangzhi is the trap which finally catches fish. That liangzhi too is a
trap is a fact Wang Yangming freely admits. Like the example above,
Wang repeatedly refers to "liangzhi" as "characters," as distinct from the
object to which it refers. "Liangzhi"was itself a linguistic construction,
though Wang claimed that it functioned differently from all other language.
If we recall Wang's description of liangzhi as a massive scales, we see
that for Wang it was the ultimate standard by which all is weighed,
including the "thousand classics," that is, all other language. Wang had
come full circle. No longer dependent on the words of the classics to
verify his doctrine, his doctrine is the measure of all words. "If words
are examined in the mind and found to be wrong, although they have
come from the mouth of Kongzi, I dare not accept them as correct."56
Liangzhi is a metalanguage which ultimately escapes the pitfall of
language. Wang said, "The two characters liangzhi are the secret of the
learning of the most ancient sages."57 To understand the full implication
of this claim, we must turn to Qian Dehong's preface to Wang Yangming's
Wenlu. He begins the preface by distinguishing three kinds of teaching:
teaching by intention (yijiao MM), teaching by government (zhengjiao
j&tfc), teaching by words (yanjiao Wilt). The earliest sages taught
by intention. Qian specifically mentions Fu Xi who taught by "arranging
odd and even in order to point out forms." The salient point is that this
was a non-linguistic, or more accurately, a kind of pre-linguistic teaching.
“ Wang Yangming, quoted in Wing-tsit Chan, trans., Instructions fo r

Practical Living and Other Neo-Confucian Writings by Wang Yangming (New
York: Columbia University Press, 1967), 159.
S7"Ji Xue Shangqian," quoted in Wang Xiugu, "Yangming xiansheng zhi
liangzhi de jingwei," in Zhang Qiyun, ed., Yangming xuelun wenji [Collected Essays
on the Learning of Wang Yangming) (Taibei: Huagang chuban youxian gongsi,
1975), 174.
261
Due to degeneration in the people, new teachings had to be devised, and
the classics and laws were introduced.58 Kongzi in turn had to rely on
words and this is where the trouble started. With Wang's discovery of
liangzhi, however, Qian claims: "The inexhaustible intentions of the
most ancient sages are again obtained so that they may be greatly illumined
in the world."59 The amazing capability of liangzhi then, is that it can
obtain and illumine the pre-linguistic intention of the earliest sages
uncontaminated by language. It finally fulfills what language always
promised but never could deliver. Liangzhi was a language of pure
intention. Simply, for Wang Yangming "liangzhi" replaced language.
If we read Wang Yangming on the subject of liangzhi we discover
that this last statement was literally true for him. For instance, Wang
tells us that his discovery of "liangzhi" replaced the massive trap of
words he had been enmeshed in since his so-called enlightenment in
Longchang:
After Longchang, I did not have the idea of these two

characters of mine, liangzhi. Only because these two
characters did not emerge, I wasted countless wordy
explanations. Now fortunately this idea has emerged, and
with one phrase I entirely comprehend the entire body. Truly
joyful, it makes my hands and feet dance.60
Liangzhi then replaces all the other words. Similarly, without the words
“ Here we detect Qian Dehong's own equivocation over the ultimate status
of the words in the Classics.
S9Qian Dehong, "Yangming xiansheng wenlu xu," Wang Yangming
quanshu, Vol. 1,6-7.
“ Quoted in Wang Xiugu, "Yangming xiansheng zhi liangzhi de jingwei,"
181.
262
"liangzhi," Wang is afraid he will not have anything to say at all: "Having
obtained the two characters "liangzhi"... if I lose them I will not have
any learning that can be talked about."61 Now we can also understand
more clearly why Wang replied with liangzhi when Qian Dehong asked
him why he burnt his Wujing yishuo. Liangzhi made "a thousand classics
and ten-thousand tomes" equally irrelevant.
The Great Ritual Controversy
Even in death the Zhengde emperor continued to be a threat to the

integrity of the empire. Since he died without any progeny, Senior
Grand Secretary Yang Tinghe (1459-1529) was naturally worried
that the lack of an established heir might invite yet another grab for the
throne by imperial relatives, and therefore had to act quickly and
decisively. Having served as a grand secretary under Li Dongyang and
then succeeding Li when he retired, Yang was an extremely capable
statesmen. According to Li they complemented each other well, for Li
was a master of letters while Yang was a master of statecraft.62 Upon
the emperor's death, Yang immediately conferred with the empress and
published a posthumous will declaring the Zhengde emperor's twelve-
year-old cousin, the son of the recently deceased Prince of Xing, as
legitimate heir to the throne. During the following thirty days before
the arrival of the Jiajing emperor Zhu Houcong (r. 1522-66), Yang
6lHJi Zhou Qianzhi," quoted in ibid., 174.
263
Tinghe single-handedly ruled the empire. He implemented a number of
reforms, including dismissal of some 150,000 superfluous personnel in
the capital and greatly reduced taxes.
The arrival in the capital of the Jiajing emperor put in motion
events which would bring Wang Yangming's disciples, and his doctrines,
into direct confrontation with Yang Tinghe and his supporters, and
eventually result in the dismissal of the top echelons of government.
Argument over the terms of the succession erupted before the new emperor
even entered the capital. Notified that he would be accorded the status
of an heir apparent until the enthroning ceremony, the prince refused to
enter the capital, arguing that the proclamation called on him to assume
the duties of emperor, not heir apparent. Yang Tinghe finally relented
and allowed the prince to enter the Forbidden City through the Darning
gate in recognition of his imperial status.63 This was only the first salvo
in a struggle which was to last four years. What came to be known as
the Great Ritual Controversy (Daliyi was fundamentally not a

debate over ritual, but names. Yang Tinghe insisted that the rites demanded
the new emperor sacrifice to his uncle, the Hongzhi emperor, as “deceased
imperial father” (huangkao M^f), while referring to his own recently

deceased father as “imperial uncle” (huangshu MIX). The emperor not
only wanted to continue sacrificing to his own father as “father,” but
later even insisted upon making him a posthumous emperor and placing
his tablet in the imperial temple.64 The outcome of the debate hinged
a Minglun dadian [The Great Compendium Illuminating Moral Relations]

(Jiajing edition), 2.3.
“ For details of the dispute, see Carney T. Fisher, The Chosen One:
Succession and Adoption in the Court o f Ming Shizong (Sydney: Allen and
264
not only on the question of which names were appropriate for Zhu
Houcong's father, but who ultimately had the authority to name. When
the grand secretaries and the minister of Rites convened to discuss the
sacrificial title of Zhu Houcong's father, Yang Tinghe consulted the
chapters on imperial genealogy in Ma Duanlin's (1254-1325)
Wenxian tongkao [Comprehensive Investigations of Important
Writings]. Taking the examples of King Dingtao in the Han dynasty
and King Pu in the Song dynasty, he declared: "This suffices to substantiate
[my decision]. Any who make contrary arguments are treasonous and
heterodox and will be beheaded."65 Yang Tinghe claimed that Han and
Tang precedent, that is the textual tradition, determined the standards
for ritual naming. And, perhaps more to the point, as senior grand
secretary he was the arbiter of the text. Yang reinforced the point by
dealing harshly with anyone who dared oppose him. W hen Wang Zan
a vice-minister of Rites did give a contrary opinion, he was apparently
fortunate to be rewarded for his hubris with only a transfer to Nanjing.66
W ith the weight of his authority as senior grand secretary and
virtually the entire capital bureaucracy behind him, the emperor appeared
isolated and utterly stymied until a novice in the Grand Court of Revision
in Nanjing, Zhang Cong 3!S§ (1475-1539), who had only just received
his jin sh i the year before, memorialized in support of the emperor's
Unwin, 1990), 46-106.
65Li Zhi, "Taibao Yang Wenzhong gong," Xu cangshu [Additional Books to

be Hidden Away], 2 Vols. (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1974), Vol. 1,12.221.
‘‘‘Zhu Hong, "Daliyi yu Ming jiajing chuqi de zhengzhi" [The Great Ritual
Controversy and Early Jiajing Era Politics], Master's Thesis (National Taiwan Normal
University, 1978), 222. Wang Zan and Zhang Cong were not only both from
Yongjia district, Zhejiang Provinve, but Wang reportedly acted after being counseled
on the matter by Zhang. See Fisher, 57-8.
265
position. In his memorial to the throne written in the seventh month of
1521, Zhang Cong said that he had seen that "the emperor's mind is pure
filial sentiment" and continued by invoking the Liji in support of the
emperor's position: "The rites do not fall from heaven, nor do they come
out from the earth. They are nothing but human feeling A lt." 67 According
to Zhang, the emperor's filial sentiments toward his father should define
proper ritual naming, not the textual tradition. Yang Tinghe was outraged.
"What does a licentiate know about the affairs of state?" he thundered.68
Zhang presented a second memorial five months later which Yang Tinghe
tried unsuccessfully to intercept. Next, a memorial was presented
supporting the emperor by W ang Yangming's disciple, Huo Tao, a
secretary in the ministry of War, which reiterated Zhang's point: "In
governing the rites, the ancient emperors and kings took human feeling
as the standard...."69 Yang responded by promoting his most vocal
supporters to the capital and trying to silence the opposition. Zhang
Cong was cashiered, and Yang Tinghe was successful in bringing the
young emperor to heel, aided in part by a fire which broke out in the
palace destroying several buildings behind the Qingning Palace. As
senior grand secretary it was Yang Tinghe's prerogative to interpret this
event just as he had done the textual tradition. Yang proclaimed it no
accident that the buildings behind Wi the palace were destroyed as it
clearly signaled heaven's displeasure with the emperor's plans to add
inappropriate titles after ^ his father's name.70 The emperor backed
61Minglun dadian, 3.6-7.
“ "Daliyi yu Ming jiajing chuqi de zhengzhi," 221.
mMinglun dadian, 3.14.
266
down, for the time being.
W hen Yang Tinghe retired in 1524, however, the controversy
erupted anew. Gui E (d. 1531), a bureau secretary in the Ministry
of Justice in Nanjing, memorialized against Yang Tinghe's position and
appended two memorials also supporting the emperor penned by two of
Wang Yangming's disciples, Xi Shu (1461-1527) and Fang Xianfu.
Fang, who had just returned after spending ten years on Xiqiao Mountain,
also made the point that the designations did not correspond to human
feeling or "names and reality."71 Later that year, another Wang disciple
holding a minor post in Nanjing, Huang Wan also memorialized in
support of the emperor. Yet another disciple, Huang Zongming
(1514 j.s.), a bureau director in the Ministry of Justice in Nanjing,
signed a joint memorial with Zhang Cong, Gui E, and Huang Wan.
Without Yang Tinghe on the scene the emperor was freer to exercise his
authority. He ordered his supporters to Beijing, promoting Gui E and
Fang Xianfu to the Hanlin Academy, making Xi Shu minister of Rites,
and Zhang Cong chancellor of the Hanlin Academy.
Zhu Houcong was intent on designating Xiaozong as "uncle" and
his father as "father." The situation becoming increasingly dire, Yang
Tinghe's faction held a meeting at which Yang Tinghe's son, Yang Shen
HIH (1488-1554) spoke out: "For one hundred and fifty years the dynasty
has nurtured its scholars. Here today their devotion to the principles of
morality and their pursuit of right in the face of death are at stake."72
70Ibid,7.13.
llMingshi, Vol. 17,5186-88.
nMingshi, Vol. 17,5082. Translated in Fisher, The Chosen One:

Succession and Adoption in the Court o f Ming Shizong, 92.
267
They decided their cause could only be saved through mass protest.
Thereupon 134 officials demonstrated outside the gates of the Forbidden
City. The emperor ordered the arrest of eight of the leaders. After this
occurred, Yang Shen and another official rushed up, pounding on the
gates and wailing. The emperor then ordered the arrest of the rest of the
officials. Officials grade four and above had a portion of their salaries
confiscated. Officials below grade four, including Yang Shen, were
given thirty lashes with a bamboo rod. Ten days later they were beaten
a second time. Seventeen died. After these beatings, Yang Shen was
sent into exile. Yang Tinghe, now in retirement, was reduced to commoner
status. The members of the emperor's faction were victorious. Zhang
Cong and Gui E would eventually be made grand secretaries. Both
Fang Xianfu and Huo Tao would succeed Xi Shu as minister of Rites,
Huang Wan and Huang Zongming would rise to vice-minister of Rites.
The memorials of the anti-Yang Tinghe faction all supported the
same basic contention as Zhang Cong, appealing to human feeling and
the emperor's naturally endowed filial sentiments as the final arbiter of
ritual practice. They argued that the emperor was the standard for
naming, not necessarily due to his august position, but because he was
thoroughly imbued with filial sentiment. The text, no matter how ancient
or orthodox, was to be valued only insofar as it corresponded to the
innate moral standard of the emperor's mind. Fang Xianfu went so far
as to say that "human feeling is the same as heavenly principle."73 This
statement came quite close to Wang Yangming's doctrine of liangzhi
which argued for the valuation of innate sensibilities of the common
^Carney Fisher, "The Great Ritual Controversy in Ming China," Ph.D.

Dissertation (University of Michigan, 1977), 295.
268
man over the word and the identity of the mind with principle. Worth
quoting here is the final postscript to the Minglun dadian, the book
ordered written by the Jiajing emperor to justify his actions in the
controversy and sanctify the arguments of his supporters. It was written
by Fang Xianfu and stands as the most articulate expression of the
thought of Wang Yangming in the name of the imperial state:
The great Dao finds its source in heaven and arises from
the mind. Therefore following the nature it is doctrine,
originating in feelings it is ritual, relying on the mind it is
filial piety. Therefore Dao is always rooted in the mind....
The Minglun dadian will illuminate this Dao. Alas! This
Dao has not been illumined in a long time. If this Dao is
not illumined, people's minds will be obscured. Alas, people's
minds have been obscured for a long time. This is not the
obscuring of people's minds, but the obscuring of
learning....74
Later in the postscript Fang praises the sageliness of the emperor for
having a "good mind" (liangxin J^L), a cognate to Wang Yangming's
central dictum of "innate knowledge [of the good]" (liangzhi &£n).
In mourning for his father at the time, Wang Yangming did not
directly participate in the controversy. Given the central role of his
disciples, however, the issue of Wang's involvement remains an important,
and unresolved, question. Carney Fisher points out similarities between
Wang's writings and Zhang Cong's memorials, citing emphasis on human
feeling by W ang in his model answers for the Shandong provincial
examination some twenty years before.75 While pursuing these tenuous
74Minglun dadian, "zhong" [conclusion], 25.
lsThe Chosen One: Succession and Adoption in the Court o f Ming Shizong,
172-3.
269
connections on the one hand, Fisher in the end largely accepts Qian
Dehong's claim that Wang wanted no involvement in the controversy
and refused to answer the queries of his disciples who were involved in
the dispute. According to Fisher, although Wang Yangming agreed
with Ms disciples in principle, his reluctance to state so publicly was
"from his desire to remain in retirement and quietly develop his own
pMlosophical system."76 Besides the fact that W ang's philosophical
system was already developed, there is ample evidence suggesting that
while biding his time on the political margins Wang's efforts were
nevertheless aimed at subverting the authority of those at the political
center.
Qian Dehong claims that Wang's only response to the Great Ritual
Controversy was the composition of two poems. One reads:
After the rain, the autumn chill enters the night afresh.
Beside the pond, the lonely moon appears more bright.
Submerged fish, at water's bottom, pass on secrets of the mind.
Birds roosting on a branch proclaim the truth of the Way.
Do not say that the workings of Heaven are in conflict with my
inborn desires.
For I know for certain that the myriad things are one with myself.
W ithout reason, rites and music are discussed in discord and
confusion.
Who will sweep away the age-old dust from the blue sky?77
Fisher carefully analyzes the poem in order to discover evidence that

Wang agreed with the position of his disciples in the debate. He especially
notes the line equating inborn desires and the workings of Heaven as
76Ibid., 170.
^"Nianpu," 34.5a. Translated in ibid., 167.
270
evidence of Wang's support of the emperor's position. Fisher, however,
misinterprets the imagery of the fish and the birds as non-metaphorical,
claiming they describe natural harmony before the intrusion of man.
Coming as it does from Wang's pen, however, "Birds roosting on a
branch proclaim the truth of the Way" is hardly a benign image. The
birds are more likely a metaphor for the grand secretaries perched at the
highest echelons loudly proclaiming the Dao. We know Wang's attitude
toward such pious displays of verbosity already, so it is not surprising
that he, taking on the guise of a sagely fish, chooses to remain outside of
government and not engage in the cacophony of truth-proclaiming. There
is another very good reason why Wang did not announce his views
during the initial years of the controversy. Beginning several years
prior to the outbreak of the debate over ritual, Wang had been engaged
in a conflict with Yang Tinghe. He knew from personal experience the
extent of Yang's power and the way he ruthlessly employed it.
In a letter to Huo Tao soon after the conclusion of the controversy,
W ang wrote: "Last year you were maligned in the Great Ritual
Controversy. At the time I was in mourning, and although I agreed with
your arguments, I did not dare to answer you."78 Later in the letter
W ang tells Huo the proper strategy to pursue:
Followers who are speaking out are increasingly combative.

This is not as good as temporarily discussing the truth
below, gathering a multitude of convinced followers and
then organizing them. Afterward when debate erupts, those
who have words but do not believe them will not dare to
openly speak out at court. But when literati raise questions,
debate them at times, hope to mediate difficult points, and
78"Yu H uo Wuya gongduan," Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 2,83-4.
Ill
gradually seek lo restore antiquity. There is no advantage
in death79
Here Wang rejects public confrontation, preferring to organize large

numbers of individuals at lower levels whose power will somehow silence
the false words of those in power. This suggests that Wang saw his own
efforts on the margins of power, as a teacher in academies and the like,
as an overtly political act and one aimed at those in the center of power.
It is also clear from the letter that another factor informing Wang's
strategy, and I believe his behavior during the debate, was his belief that
"there is no advantage in death." It is likely that Wang "did not dare to
answer" because he knew the potential consequences.
Conflict with the Political Center
T o understand W ang Yangming's role in the Great Ritual

Controversy, and I believe to understand the larger context in which the
controversy occurred, we need first to consider Wang's opposition to the
center of political power, and especially his conflict with Grand Secretary
Yang Tinghe. Wang Yangming's active opposition to the political center
likely has its origins in his collaboration with the Seven Masters. Tu
W ei-ming properly points out that Wang Yangming's association with
Li Mengyang had important political implications. Explaining that their
effort to return to the ancients was aimed at the grand secretariat style,
Tu continues:
^bid.
272
... their fight came very close to being political protest.
And although this dissent originated from within the court,
it represented the feelings of those who were actively engaged
in the affairs of state but who remained marginal to the
center of power and influence. Their critique of Li
[Dongyang]'s literary style foreshadowed an intensified
attack on the grand secretary a few years later when they
interpreted his conciliatory attitude toward the powerful
eunuch Liu Jin as a betrayal of personal integrity.80
The suggestion that Wang Yangming may have shared the Seven Masters'
disenchantment with Li Dongyang should be taken seriously, for as we
shall see, one of the characteristics of Wang Yangming's later political
career was a violent confrontation with the grand secretariat.
Unfortunately, Tu Wei-ming refuses to take his own suggestion seriously,
saying "[Wang's] involvement with the literary movement, as such, had
a very little value to Shouren."81 And in any case, it was not "his
frustration with literary attainment and bureaucratic competence" which
was important, but underlying "spiritual crises."82
Like Li Mengyang, Wang Yangming was very much concerned
with the moral crises affecting the empire. Like Li too, he was willing
to risk death to speak out against Liu Jin. And indeed, Liu Jin wanted to
have him killed. Pursued into exile by Liu Jin's assassins, Wang only
survived by feigning suicide by drowning in the Qian Tang River.83
80Neo-Confucian Thought in Action, 29.
“ Ibid., 55.
“ Ibid., 56.
“ Gu Yingtai, Mingshi jishi benmo [Roots and Branches of Recorded

Events in the Ming History} (Congshu jicheng, vol. 3918-27), 49.
273
Wang Yangming also had additional reasons to hate Liu Jin and his
conspirators. Liu Jin was a Northerner and his policies were intended to
promote Northerners at the expense of Southerners. In fact Liu Jin
made a special injunction barring anyone from W ang's hometown of
Yuyao from serving in the capital. Evidently this was meant specifically
to punish Grand Secretary Xie Qian, a Yuyao native who opposed Liu.84
It should also be noted that this injunction affected Wang Yangming's
father, Wang Hua 31^(1453-1522) as well. Wang Hua graduated optimus
in the 1481 metropolitan examinations, and was vice-minister of Rites
when Liu Jin gained power. Liu Jin tried to cultivate his friendship, but
W ang Hua refused all invitations, thus registering a "tacit protest".85
A fter Wang Yangming was arrested, Wang Hua was transferred to a
ministership in Nanjing and then later demoted to vice-minister. After
Liu was killed Wang Hua was returned to his old post, but died soon
after.86 From Wang Yangming's point of view, the fate of him and his
father starkly contrasted to that of Li Dongyang and the other officials
who chose to cooperate with Liu Jin.
W hether or not Wang Yangming perceived Yang Tinghe to be
another example of collusion between the grand secretariat and the
immoral elements in the inner court is especially relevant. On the
question of Yang Tinghe's relationship with Liu Jin, the historical records
are contradictory. At the beginning of Liu's tenure Yang Tinghe was a
lecturer for the emperor's classics colloquium and concurrent supervisor
’“Ibid., 58
85Neo-Conjucian Thought in Action, 98.
274
of the household of the heir apparent.87 Jiao Hong MM (15407-1620),
one of Yang's partisan biographers says that Yang counselled the emperor
to distance himself from Liu Jin during one of the colloquia and for that
reason was given a technical promotion by Liu Jin to the political
backwaters of Nanjing, though since it forced him to leave the capital it
was for practical purposes a demotion.88
Only three months later, however, Yang had a sudden change of
fortune. The Ming History simply records without any explanation that
Yang Tinghe was recalled to the capital and promoted to grand secretary.89
On the face of it, this suggests that relations between Yang and Liu Jin
were not so antagonistic after all. Another biographer, Li Zhi, claims
that in fact it was the emperor who complained to Liu Jin that Yang
Tinghe insisted on droning on and on during the classics colloquium
and it was on this account the Liu had him transferred to Nanjing.90
One explanation favorable to Yang Tinghe says that Liu Jin indeed
hated Yang but was forced to return him to the capital when the emperor
inquired after his whereabouts.91 Jiao Hong even claims that the emperor
was personally responsible for Yang's promotion to grand secretary,92
mA curious title to hold given that emperor Wuzong never had an heir.
“ Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu [Record of Meritorious Officials of the

Present Dynasty] (Beiping tushuguan 1616 photo reprint; Taibei: Xuesheng shuju,
1965), 15.3.
^Li Zhi, Xu cangshu, Vol. 1, 12.220. This point is also made in Guo
Tingshun, Benchao fensheng renwu kao [A Study of Important Individuals of the
Present Dynasty, by Province] (1622 photo reprint; Taibei: Chengwen chubanshe,
1971), 107.11a-b.
9lM ingjian [Mirror of the Ming Dynasty], compiled by Li Jieren, eL al.
(Beijing: Zhongguo shudian, 1985), 272.
275
though it seems unlikely that Wuzong would suddenly show such an
interest in his officials and would promote a man Liu Jin objected to.
This scenario also does not explain why a year later Yang was given the
additional honorable titles of Junior Guardian and Grand Guardian of
the Heir Apparent. It also says nothing about Yang's ready acceptance,
at a time when grand secretaries resigned from their posts in protest.
Yang Tinghe's behavior seems not far from that of Li Dongyang,
and in fact their subsequent fates were tied together. Both were demoted
two grades by Liu Jin for errors in the Ming Huidian, only to be restored
the following year. The year after that Yang Tinghe received the titles
Grand master for Splendid Happiness and Pillar of the State, was promoted
to grand secretary of the Wuying Hall, and was also concurrently made
the minister of Personnel. Yang Tinghe's political success during Liu
Jin's tenure likely made him suspect in some people's eyes. Accounts in
the Mingshi jishi benmo go as far as to suggest Yang actively curried
favor with Liu. It states that when Yang was made vice-minister of
Personnel in Nanjing, a fellow official, Liu Zhong, was made the vice-
minister of Rites. When they were about to leave Beijing, Liu Zhong
asked Yang if they should formally take leave of Liu Jin. Yang said
that if they did others would see it as evidence of complicity. Liu
Zhong heartily agreed. Subsequently however, Yang Tinghe went to
take leave of Liu Jin by himself, even offering him a gift of fine brocaded
silk from Yang's native Sichuan. Thereafter, it is said that Liu Jin was
close with Yang but distant with Liu Zhong.93 The Mingshi jishi benmo
^Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu, 15.3.
93Mingshi jishi benmo, 51.
TIG
also records that Yang Tinghe's younger brother, Yang Tingyi, who was
vice-minister of War, actively courted the then minister of War, Liu Yu
SU32 (1472j.s.). Like Jiao Fang, Liu Yu was a Northerner from Henan
and through his relationship with Jiao gained access to Liu Jin, reportedly
receiving his position after paying Liu Jin heavy bribes. Liu Jin eventually
made him a grand secretary along with Jiao Fang. According to the
Mingshi jishi benmo, since Yang Tingyi was good at wen, he reportedly
wrote Liu Yu's memorials for him.94 Yang Tingyi subsequently rose to
vice-minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. The accusations against
him gain credence due to the fact that Yang Tingyi's name is listed with
those of Liu Jin's confederates in the Ming History. Significantly, his
name is absent from the list of those punished.95 On top of the evidence
suggesting complicity between the Yang brothers and Liu Jin, we may
also consider that Yang Tinghe and Yang Tingyi were from Sichuan,
considered a zhong "middle" (or, using another translation of the term,
"neutral") province in the categorization of provinces into "North,"
"South," and "Middle" for purposes of designating provincial examination
candidate quotas. Sichuan, like the northern provinces, was favored by
Liu Jin, and even given an increase in its provincial examination quota.
Wang Yangming likely considered Yang Tinghe to be culpable of
the charge of eunuch complicity. Moreover, after Liu Jin's fall, Wang
became involved in a political power struggle with Yang. In 1513 Yang
Tinghe became senior grand secretary upon the resignation of Li
Dongyang. In 1515 Wang Qiong (1459-1532) was made the minister
bid., 51-2.
9SMingshi, Vol. 26,7839.
277
of War. Yang Tinghe saw Wang Qiong as one of his major political
rivals. Wang Qiong reportedly had a good relationship with Jiang Bin
(d. 1521), Wuzong's confidant. Jiang Bin was a fellow Northerner
and military official, and in any case Wang Qiong probably tended to be
highly regarded by the martially-obsessed Wuzong given his position
and military abilities. Wang Qiong was Wang Yangming's patron, and
on his recommendation Wang was promoted to left vice censor-in-chief
and governor of Southern Jiangxi. It was at this time that the Prince of
Ning revolted. Wang Yangming raised an army and in a short while
routed the forces of the Prince. The event caused much commotion at
court, for the successful suppression of the rebellion meant opportunities
for immense gain, in the form of honors, promotions, and political power.
After the victory, Wang was supposed to make a proform a declaration,
giving credit for the victory to his superiors in the capital. Wang,
however, only gave credit to his patron, Wang Qiong, purposely refusing
to pay homage to the grand secretaries and the eunuchs-m ore evidence,
by the way, that W ang Yangming saw them as in cahoots. This of
course was not perceived merely as an act of disrespect but as an attempt
to increase the power of Wang Qiong's faction at court.
The eunuchs responded by accusing Wang Yangming himself of
plotting rebellion, though Wang cleared himself by loyally obeying an
imperial summons.96 Yang Tinghe had to wait until the death of the
emperor before he could openly move to eliminate his political opponents.
After Wuzong's death, Yang had Jiang Bin executed. Soon after, Wang
Qiong was also accused of misdeeds and imprisoned. The Ming History
^"Nianpu", 34.1a.
278
records that officials in the ministry of Justice under the direction of
Yang Tinghe argued for imposing the death penalty. W ang Qiong
received military exile only after vehemently defending himself.97 It
was not until after Yang Tinghe left office that Wang Qiong was pardoned
and recalled as minister of War. Yang Tinghe also targeted Wang
Yangming who by this time had earned quite a reputation for his defeat
of the Prince of Ning. When Zhu Houcong took the throne, Wang was
summoned to the capital due to his accomplishments. This was blocked
by Yang Tinghe, however, who arranged that Wang be given the post of
minister of War in Nanjing only to keep him from coming to the capital
and meeting the emperor.98 Later the same year the emperor ordered
that Wang be enfeoffed as earl of Xinjian. Wang immediately declined
the honor for reasons he spells out in his memorial: "My not daring to
accept the title is not declining an honor, but avoiding disaster."99 In
subsequent memorials in which he continued to decline the honor, Wang
said that he did not deserve it because there were many others who also
deserved credit for putting down the Prince of Ning's rebellion, including,
W ang was careful to add, Yang Tinghe. His requests to decline the
honor were not answered and the emperor refused to rescind the title,
but Yang Tinghe saw to it that he was never to receive the salary or the
certificate of office. Three months later his father died and W ang went
into mourning. Wang requested a posthumous title for his father, but
the minister of Rites, Mao Cheng (1461-1523) who was also Yang
‘"Mingshi, Vol. 17,5036.
98Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,1413-14.

""Nianpu", 34.1a.
279
Tinghe's right hand man, responded by accusing Wang Hua of causing
irregularities in the examinations.
Clearly, Yang Tinghe was not just punishing Wang Yangming for
past improprieties, but viewed him as a potential rival for power. This
perception of Wang Yangming as a serious threat was exacerbated by
the outbreak of the Great Ritual Controversy. As with all political
straggles, the Great Ritual Controversy was ultimately a struggle for
political power and not doctrine. The controversy began with what
appeared to many as a battle of wills between Yang Tinghe and Zhu
Houcong, and this is partly why it has come to be defined in terms of a
classic power struggle between the grand secretariat and the emperor,
ritual being the area of expertise jealously guarded by Confucian
bureaucrats as the most powerful check on an otherwise unchecked
imperial will. The lower-level officials who joined the emperor's side,
rather than being afforded a meaningful institutional role, have mostly
been characterized as opportunists, though the case is complicated by
the fact that most everyone agrees that Yang Tinghe's initial judgement
to invoke the Han and Song precedents did not properly fit the Ming
case.100
The Great Ritual Controversy was a struggle for power, but not so
much between the grand secretariat and the emperor, as between the
grand secretariat and the lower echelons of the bureaucracy. In one
100Xu Qianxue (1631-1716) was one who held a very low opinion of Zhang
and Gui. See Fisher, The Chosen One: Succession and Adoption in the Court of
Ming Shizong, 173. Mao Qiling, who perhaps provided the most comprehensive
treatment of the ritual controversy, held that Yang was also in error, mistakingly
interpreting the line "When the elder brother dies the younger brother will succeed
him." See his Bianding Jiajing daliyi [A Judgement on the Jiajing Great Ritual
Controversy] (Congshu jicheng, Vol. 1041), 1.2
280
sense, the controversy gave forces already arrayed against the grand
secretariat an opportunity to strike, for while displeasure with the grand
secretariat had been building since at least the beginning of the previous
reign, never before could officials count on the emperor as an ally. Two
main factors informed officials' displeasure with the grand secretariat.
First, grand secretaries, and here especially Li Oongyang and perhaps to
a lesser extent Yang Tinghe, and especially Jiao Fang, Cao Yuan and
Liu Yu, were perceived to be immoral by virtue of their complicity with
the eunuch government of Liu Jin. Second, they were too powerful,
especially during periods with a weak or absent emperor. They controlled
the Hanlin Academy, the gateway to all important posts, and thus usurped
the authority of the minister of Personnel, who according to tradition
came from the Hanlin Academy himself.
The beginning of a new reign period in China was traditionally a
time to start afresh. General amnesties were normally given and those
who were persecuted under the previous reign were rehabilitated. It was
also a time to settle old scores, as we have seen with Yang' dispatching
of Jiang Bin and Wang Qiong. But the grand secretaries and several
other senior officials also found themselves the object of attacks. One
of the first to speak out publicly against Yang Tinghe and the grand
secretariat was Wang Yangming's disciple, Huo Tao. Huo Tao attacked
Yang Tinghe personally, judging him unqualified for the noble rank
with which the newly installed Jiajing emperor presented him .101
Significantly, Huo Tao's memorial long predated his active participation
in the ritual controversy. In fact, Huo Tao memorialized several times
281
against the faults of the grand secretariat. In one memorial he stated:
If one wants to correct the empire, start with the six ministries;
if one wants to correct the six ministries, start with the
Hanlin Academy; if one wants to correct the Hanlin
Academy, start with the grand secretariat.102
In the first month of the first year of the Jiajing reign, the Veritable
Records states that Huo Tao criticized the grand secretariat for their
being too powerful.103 One of Huo's complaints was that the grand
secretariat had unchecked control over the Hanlin Academy: "From Yang
Rong, Yang Shiqi, and Yang Pu to Li Dongyang and Yang Tinghe,
[grand secretaries] have monopolized power and nurtured factions. They
treated the Hanlin Academy as their own dominion and the drafters as
their personal attendants...." Huo proposed that promotions and dismissals
in the Hanlin Academy be conducted by the Ministry of Personnel in
order to cut the power of the grand secretariat.104
Like his later challenge to Yang Tinghe's ritual decision, Huo's
actions in this instance were also closely related with his teacher, Wang
Yangming. Not only did he attack Wang's political enemy, Huo was
also a great defender of Wang Yangming's former political patron, Wang
Qiong, writing his tomb inscription and working to clear him of the
charges brought against him in 152110S- a n d all this even though he
102Huo Tao, Weiya wenji, 2.39. In Zhu Hong, "Daliyi yu Ming jiajing chuqi
de zhengzhi," 176.
mMing shilu [The Veritable Records of the Ming Dynasty] (Taibei:

Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiu suo), Vol. 7 1 , 10.11a.
lMMingshi, Vol. 17,5211.
10SDictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,1367-8.
282
never met Wang Qiong. Significantly, Huo also specifically criticized
Li Oongyang, accusing him of being a "village honest man," that is one
who says all the right sounding things but whose conduct does not
match his words, and who "is in harmony with the sordid world".106
Clearly Huo was referring to Li Dongyang's relationship with Liu Jin
and once again underlines the continued affinities between W ang
Yangming and the Seven Masters. This same point was echoed by one
of the Seven Masters, Kang Hai who complained, "Hanlin Officials are
the mere tools of the grand secretariat."107 In fact, at an early stage of
the controversy Li Mengyang's nephew (son of his eldest sister), Cao Jia
f?I§ (1571 j.s.), also attacked Yang Tinghe for conduct unbecoming a
m inister in his efforts to thwart the will of the em peror.108 He too
warned that the power of the grand secretariat was too great,109 even to
the point of compromising the imperial prerogative.110 Cao and another
censor, Shi Dao (d.u.), who had also attacked Yang were exiled by
the emperor in order to placate Yang Tinghe. Wang Bangqi
(d.u.), a battalion vice commander in the embroidered-uniform guards,
made accusations against Yang Tinghe and his second son Yang Dun j§
gfc, a secretary in the Ministry of War.111 Once the Great Ritual Controversy
106The term "village honest man" is from the Mencius. I use D.C. Lao's
translation of the term and part of the description. Mencius, 7b.37, p. 203.
1<nDictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 1,693.

108Mingshi, Vol. 17,5038. We should also mention that Li Mengyang wrote
a poem in praise of Shizong's stand in the controversy and that after the controversy
ended Huo Tao recommended Li for a post.
l09Mingshi, Vol. 18,5437.
n0"Daliyi yu Ming jiajing chuqi de zhengzhi," 55.

mMingshi, Vol. 17, 5039.
283
began, those who opposed Yang Tinghe, like Huo Tao, had additional
and more devastating ammunition with which to mount attacks. We
should also note that even for those who memorialized only on the ritual
question, the accumulated sins of the grand secretariat also helped their
case. For instance Zhang Cong in his memorials also singled out the
grand secretariat as the source of the empire's ills.112 Given the attack
on the grand secretariat, it is significant that Yang Tinghe also relied on
the support of Li Dongyang who memorialized in his support from
retirement. The emperor was more than happy to oblige these calls to
curb the power of the grand secretariat. When the emperor invited the
leaders of his faction to the capital and promoted Xi Shu to minister of
Rites he pointedly ignored the tradition that the minister of Rites should
come from the Hanlin Academy,113 the institution which was controlled
by the grand secretaries.
There is evidence that Yang Tinghe linked the attacks on the
grand secretariat and later on his decisions in the Great Ritual Controversy
directly with Wang Yangm ing-not surprising given the central role of
Wang' disciple Huo Tao. One of the strategies Yang Tinghe used during
the ritual controversy was to associate his position with Cheng-Zhu
orthodoxy~"Only the Song Confucian Cheng Yi completely obtained
the correctness of meanings and principles in the [King] Pu [succession]
controversy [in the Song]"114—and thereby also charge the opposition
with heterodoxy. Yang realized that the opposition was incorporating
U2"Daliyi yu Ming jiajing chuqi de zhengzhi," 166-7.

U3The Chosen One: Succession and Adoption in the Court o f Ming Shizong,
82.
U4Mingshi, Vol. 17, 5037.
284
Wang Yangming's doctrines and he hoped to exploit that fact. In this
context it is significant that officials who were members of Yang Tinghe's
faction, a censor, Cheng Qichong, and a supervising secretary, Mao Wu,
memorialized during the controversy that Wang should be impeached
for unorthodox teachings.115 As the debate progressed, it is clear that
Yang Tinghe considered Wang Yangming and his followers the main
opposition. In the second lunar month of 1523, a policy question on the
metropolitan examination directly asked about the "learning of the mind."
The question was aimed at exposing the disciples of Wang Yangming
who were departing from Zhu Xi's orthodox teaching. Those disciples
of Wang who were in the examination hall immediately recognized
Yang Tinghe's intentions. Some, like Xu Shan, protested by leaving the
examination hall without answering the question. Other disciples, like
Qian Dehong, answered the question in a manner consistent with Wang's
teachings and promptly failed.116
The main reason why Yang Tinghe could personally claim the
sanction of orthodoxy for his position in the rites was that both Cheng
Yi and Zhu Xi supported the view that Yingzong in the Song call his
natural father "imperial uncle" and the former emperor "father." Yang
Tinghe not only found the charge of heterodoxy useful to discredit his
opponents, but also to galvanize support among his own faction. In a
memorial signed by Yang Shen and 34 other officials it said:
1,5Cheng Qichong and Mao Wu later supported Yang Tinghe in the Great
Ritual Controversy. Cheng would be exiled for 16 years. Mao would die in prison.
116"Nianpu", Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji, 34.2b. One disciple,
Ouyang De (1496-1554), inexplicably passed the examination and was given a
provincial post After the Great Ritual Controversy ended he was promoted to a
series of high posts, the last one being minister of Rites and concurrent chancellor of
the Hanlin Academy. Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,1102-4.
285
Gentlemen and mean people cannot serve together; correct
thought and erroneous opinions cannot be abroad
simultaneously. We uphold the school of thought of Cheng
Yi and Zhu Xi; Gui [E] and the others discuss the dross of
Leng Bao and Duan Y ou.117 Our scholarship is different,
and our arguments dissimilar. We are ashamed to be classed
with Gui and the rest.118
By invoking Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi and claiming that the ritual controversy
involved the defense of state orthodoxy, Yang Tinghe encouraged staunch
defenders of Zhu Xi orthodoxy like Luo Qinshun MiKHi (1465-1547) to
back him in the debate. The fact that all treatments of Wang Yangming's
thought view it primarily as opposed to the thought of Zhu Xi is partly
due to the political events surrounding the ritual controversy.
The charges of heterodoxy leveled by Yang Tinghe against Wang
Yangming and the members of the faction supporting the emperor in the
controversy forced those opposing Yang to use care in quoting Wang's
doctrines. Carney Fisher does not consider the possibility that a direct
relationship between Wang's doctrines and the positions of his disciples
in the debate was obscured by the fact that they consciously refrained
from invoking their teacher's doctrine verbatim. They were of course
also obliged to claim orthodoxy for themselves. One strategy Zhang
Cong used was to in fact adopt the intellectual world view of Song
Daoxue and accuse his opponents of being "mired in stories of a degenerate
age" (the Han and Song historical precedents) while ignoring the higher
n>Two Han dynasty officials who were labelled as sycophants.
mMingshi, Vol. 17,5082. Translated in Fisher, The Chosen One:

Succession and Adoption in the Court o f Ming Shizong, 87.
286
standard of the Classics.119 This is exactly the strategy Zhu Xi himself
adopted when he rejected the Han and Tang commentaries and returned
to the classics himself.
Liangzhi' the Language of the Political Margin
Wang Yangming's confrontations with the political center more

or less occurred simultaneously with the formulation of the doctrine of
liangzhi. In fact, the ritual controversy erupted on the heels of Wang
Yangming's discovery of the doctrine of liangzhi in late 1520 and initial
exposition to his students in early 1521. As we have seen, liangzhi was
two characters which replaced language. It was a new language steadfastly
opposed to the degenerate language of the political center, and when
Wang spoke in specific terms, it should be noted that the most egregious
types of language-civil service examination related, belle lettres, and
classical com m entaries-w ere all closely associated with the political
center. Liangzhi as both the essence of the Confucian textual tradition
and the pre-linguistic intention of the sages undermined any claims to
cultural and political authority based on literary com petence.
Theoretically, it dissolved the bond between the word and morality
which was the foundation for the political legitimacy of the grand
secretaries. Not only was the doctrine of liangzhi a rejection of the
value of the language of the political center, liangzhi replaced language
as the standard for culture, morality, and ultimately, political authority.
il9Minglun dadian, 3.10-11.
287
The overt political implications of liangzhi become clear when
we consider who, according to Wang Yangming, could best extend their
liangzhi. Who held the giant scales of liangzhP Wang's answer was
not those at the center, but those at the margins of cultural and political
power—the common people: "As for liangzhi and innate ability, the
ignorant common people are the same as the sages."120 And, "Liangzhi
is Dao. L ia n g zh i is in the mind of man. Not only the sages and
worthies, but common people are also no different from this."121 It is
recorded that one day one of disciples reported to Wang that he had
suddenly discovered that all the people in the street were actually sages.
W ang replied: "This is normal. Why do you think it extraordinary?"122
W e should emphasize the point that not only did common people have
the innate sensibility of liangzhi, the characters "liangzhi" themselves
were a language immediately apprehensible to the common man: “Since
these two characters liangzhi are something which everyone has, then
even with the most ignorant and lowly, as soon as they are mentioned
they understand.” 123 Liangzhi was the language of the common man.
W hen we consider that literary activity was one of the major causes of
the obscuration of liangzhi, along with selfish desires like the pursuit of
fame, then the implication becomes that the closer one is to the political
center the less likely one will successfully extend liangzhi.
Even more important than the role of Wang Yangming's doctrines
m Chuanxilu, Part 2, Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1,41.
121Ibid., 56.
mIbid.,Part3,97.
123“Ji Zou Qianzhi,” Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1,45.
288
in the various arguments put forward by the anti-Yang Tinghe faction
during the ritual controversy was the way the faction itself mirrored
Wang's assertion that moral authority lies with the common people and
not with the grand secretaries. It is significant that many of the members
of the faction supporting the emperor came from relatively disadvantaged
backgrounds. Zhu Hong makes this very point, noting that Huo Tao
was from a merchant family from Nanhai, Guangdong, Zhang Cong
was from a farmer-scholar family, Gui E was from a commoner family,
and Huang Wan was able to become an official only due to yin privilege.124
Another significant factor in this regard, and one obviously
informing the animosity toward the political center on the part of those
in the faction supporting the emperor, was their marginal political status.
Carney Fisher describes them as "men on the fringes of the bureaucratic
world."125 All of them were either posted in the nether-world bureaucracy
of Nanjing or had provincial posts. None had positions in the capital.
We should also point out that all were from the south, except Xi Shu
who was from Sichuan, and thus for them the anti-southem policies of
the political center were fresh in their memories.
And here of course we cannot forget Wang himself, for his doctrines
not only registered his unhappiness with the political center, but also the
attempts of those in the political center, first Liu Jin and later Yang
Tinghe, at relegating him to a marginal status. As a language of the
common man in opposition to the language of the political center, liangzhi
124”Daliyi yu Ming jiajing chuqi de zhengzhi," 128-30. Huang Wan refused

to participate in the examinations.
l2SThe Chosen One: Succession and Adoption in the Court o f Ming Shizong,
79.
289
was strikingly similar to Li Mengyang's poetry of the common man, and
again reminds us that both Wang Yangming's doctrines and Li Mengyang's
poetics were informed by conflicts with the center and their own political
marginalization.
Unlike Li Mengyang's ideas though, Wang Yangming's did not
remain on the political margin. In 1524, the year Yang Tinghe retired
from office, we find a suddenly vocal Wang Yangming unequivocally
supporting his disciples in the controversy and the position of the emperor.
In his "Treatise on Breadth and Essentiality" written that same year, he
claims that "ritual is rooted in the mind."126 In a letter to Huang Zongming
in 1524, Wang says:
I recently received the memorial on ritual which Zongxian

(Huang Wan) sent, finding it extremely clear. Your
arguments are just the same as his. Gentleman of ancient
times respected reverence and honored virtue. They
manifested ritual in their yielding actions. My expectations
of the two of you lie in this and not that. If this is the case,
the plans for this Dao will enter the controversy over ritual.127
Wang promotes the use of his theories, "this Dao," in the ritual controversy.
Any doubts W ang might have had appear to revolve around the
vociferousness of the debate and the dangers involved in such a
confrontation and thus the caution to his disciples that they should attempt
to avoid open conflict.128 Wang’s interest in having his theories enter the
,26Wang Yangming, "Boyue shuo," Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 1,165.
in nyu Huang Chengfu," ibid., Vol. 2,81.
128We should note that at this point although the Yang Tinghe faction had
been utterly deposed, the controversy continued as the emperor made more demands
on his new officials and the anti-Yang Tinghe faction began to struggle among
290
ritual controversy may have been manifold, but it seems certain that one
primary preoccupation was the possibility of winning over the Jiajing
emperor. After the Controversy was over and decided in favor of the
emperor and his supporters, Wang Yangming wrote to Fang Xianfu,
now minister of Rites and Grand Guardian of the Heir Apparent, urging
him to focus his energies on converting the emperor:
The one thing vital today is the cultivation of the emperor's

virtue. Once the direction of his will is established and he
is set in this, then there is no need for divisions in government
and banishing people. This is what is called a united ruler
and government and the settling of the empire.129
The great emphasis which Wang places on establishing the will in his
doctrines suggests that here he is speaking of winning the emperor over
to his specific agenda for moral cultivation.
As it turned out, not only was Zhu Houcong entirely uninterested
in moral cultivation, Wang's disciples were never able to capitalize on
their newly found political success. For one thing, they never succeeded
in promoting their teacher to a high post in the bureaucracy. Fang
Xianfu did succeed in recommending Wang to quell tribal rebellions,
and with Xi Shu and Huang Wan arranged to have W ang appointed left
censor-in-chief and chief of military affairs in Guangdong and Guangxi.
They could do no more it seems due to the objections of Gui E who
despised Wang, evidently because he would not become one of Gui's
p artisans.130 After Wang died in 1528, Gui accused him of various
the Mingshie] ves.
129,1Da Fang Shuxian," no. I, Wang Yangming quanshu, Vol. 2 ,8 5 .
mMingshi, Vol. 17,5184; 5189. Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 1,757.
291
improprieties, including the crime of preaching heterodox doctrines.131
Though hardly quelling support among literati and others, Gui's successful
attack reflected the ultimate lack of success that Wang's doctrines had in
winning the political center.
mMingshi, Vol. 17,5168; Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,1415.
292
C hapter 5
Connoisseurship and the Defense against V ulgarity:
Yang Shen and his W ork1
It is now widely recognized that the intellectual life of the Ming

dynasty was much more attentive to textual scholarship than previously
acknowledged. In a work that does much to overturn assumptions about
Ming literati as uniformly devoted to mind, emotions, and desires of the
self, Lin Qingzhang has traced the formation of a Ming evidential
research school (kaozhengxue pai It is in Lin's work that
Yang Shen achieves recognition as the first Ming scholar to eschew
Song Learning and return to the textual exegeses and philological methods
of Han dynasty Confucian scholars. Subsequently, Yang Shen has also
been accorded a prominent place in what Mainland scholars call the
substantial learning (shixue ft1!?) movement.3
Many have speculated why evidential research, and Yang Shen's
scholarship in particular, should appear during a dynasty known for its
anti-intellectualism (fan zhishi There is general agreement
‘An earlier version of this chapter appeared under the same title in
Monumenta Serica, 41 (1993), pp. 89-128.
2 See Lin Qingzhang, "Yang Shen zhi jingxue," in Lin Qingzhang and Jia
Shunxian, eds., Yang Shen ycmjiu ziliao huibian [A Collection of Yang Shen Research
Materials], Vol. 2 (Taibei: Academia Sinica, 1992), 562.
3See, for instance, Jia Shunxian, "Yang Shen de kaoju boxuelun," in Chen
Guying, ed., Mingqing shixue sichaoshi [Substantial Learning Intellectual Trends in
the Ming and Qing Dynasties] (Jinan: Qilu shushe, 1988), 170-96.
“This is Yu Yingshi's term and his own translation, in his "Cong songming
ruxue de fazhan lun qingdai sixiangshi" [A Discussion of Qing Intellectual History
293
that Yang Shen's scholarship was a reaction to a deteriorating intellectual
climate in the Ming dynasty, or, as Lin Qingzhang puts it: "a reaction
against discarding learning.”5 Mainland scholars for the most part
agree with Lin, although they tend to emphasize Yang's interest in practical
learning and objective knowledge over philological concerns. Both also
agree on the specific sources of Ming intellectual decline, pointing to
the civil service examination system and the doctrines of Wang Yangming
as key components responsible for leading Ming literati astray. Lin
Qingzhang adds to this the deleterious effects of the Archaist school of
poetry led by Li Mengyang and the Former Seven Masters which, like
the examination system, only encouraged literati to cull fragments from
old books.6
Leaving aside M arxist interpretations,7 the reaction theory
presupposes the pendulum-like movement of intellectual change swinging
between the extremes of the "mind-only" doctrines of Song Learning
and the "text only" doctrines of Han Learning. In Yang Shen's time the
doctrines of Wang Yangming and his followers marked the extreme
limit of the pendulum, and Yang Shen is therefore seen as the first
from the Development of Song and Ming Confuciansm], Zhongguo xueren 2 (9.1970),
22 .
sLin Qingzhang, Mingdai kaojuxue yanjiu [Researches on Ming Dynasty
Evidential Learning] (Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1986), 23-5. Lin does not rely solely
on a reaction to anti-intellectualism to explain the rise of evidential research, though
it is, according to my reading of Lin, by far the most important factor, especially in
regard to Yang Shen.
‘Ibid., 19.
’From the perspective of Marxist analysis, indications of a materialist

orientation in Yang's thinking lead to the presumption that he consciously departed
from the bankrupt idealism of the elite class. As will become clear in this paper,
however one defines the ideology of the Ming elite, Yang Shen was certainly
committed to its support
294
indication that directions were reversing, leading eventually to the full
blossoming of evidential learning some 200 years later. This is a useful
paradigm. It does not depend entirely on an invisible law of change, but
also has foundation in the well-entrenched Chinese cultural tendency to
embrace the ancient past and reject the more recent past. A weakness of
this framework, however, lies in its reduction of the often complex
motivations which inform an individual's choice to participate in the
discourse of Han or Song Learning. The motivation to participate in a
discourse is of key consequence because the unique perceptions of the
agent will effect the nature of the discourse. Evidential research differed
substantially among various practitioners and over time, a fact easily
overlooked if we define evidential research as a transparent methodology
aimed at objective analysis of the textual tradition and uncovering the
true face of antiquity.
In the case of Yang Shen, the motivations imputed to him as a
practitioner of evidential learning appear to stand at odds with the contents
of his own scholarship. The description of Yang's work as a reaction
against "discarding learning" cannot account for the fact that the favorite
target of Yang Shen's philological barbs happens to be Zhu X i.8 Zhu
Xi can hardly be accused of "discarding learning," at least according to
8Yu Yingshi makes the claim that Yang Shen reacted against Chen
Xianzhang's and Wang Yangming's "discarding of learning," but continued to
recognize the value of Zhu Xi's School of Principle. See his "Cong songming ruxue
de fazhan lun qingdai sixiangshi," 34. Mainland scholars, on the other hand, have
no qualms about implicating Zhu Xi. Jia Shunxian specifically ascribes Yang Shen's
philological work to the misrepresentation of the Classics by Zhu Xi and other Song
Confucians. Mingqing shixue sichaoshi, 179. Wang Wencai makes a similar point,
saying that Yang Shen reacted to Ming literati who blindly followed Zhu Xi in the
belief that he had already illumined the Dao. Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu [A
Yang Shen Study Guide] (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1988), 2-3.
295
Lin Qingzhang who sees him as the paragon of evidential research.9
This discrepancy suggests that when he attacked Zhu Xi, Yang Shen
may have had motivations other than rooting out anti-intellectualism.
Our suspicions are compounded when we take into account a rather
unsettling fact from the point of view of philology. Yang Shen was an
avid forger of ancient texts. This is an activity entirely inconsistent with
the evidential research Yang Shen nominally stands for, in which the
exposure of forgeries is a central pursuit. It is also incompatible with
any definition of "substantial learning." The difficulties posed by this
inconsistency are reflected in the absence of any discussion of forgery in
treatments of Yang Shen which portray him as an evidential scholar,
materialist, or otherwise progressive thinker.
If we are to account for Yang Shen's philology and his forgery, as
well as his penchant for other activities neither particularly scholarly nor
"substantial," it is necessary, in my opinion, to reconsider the cultural
and social context which informed Yang's motivations. To make a start
in this direction, I will characterize Yang Shen's "reaction" as a
commitment to combating what he considered "vulgar" (su {& or lou p@)
trends in the literati culture of his day. The terms su and lou are
frequently invoked by Yang Shen and are repeatedly linked either
explicitly or implicitly to Zhu Xi, Wang Yangming, and Li Mengyang.
In Yang's view, their doctrines caused a decline in literati standards
which allowed people unable or unwilling to digest the textual tradition
’According to Lin Qingzhang, Zhu Xi was the only one who knew the
proper role of evidential research: "Zhu Xi took evidential research as only one
aspect of learning. If it is taken as the whole then I'm afraid the effort of inner
cultivation is forgotten. This recognition [on the part of Zhu Xi] is most correct, and
it is a shame that evidential research scholars in the Ming and Qing were never able
to clarify his intention." Mingdai Icaojuxue yanjiu, 10.
296
to claim elite cultural status.
Yang Shen's use of the word "vulgar" had strong social implications,
and I will argue that it marks a fundamentally elitist sensibility. Yang
did not object to the decline of literary or scholarly standards per se, but
also access by "vulgar" people to the elite preserve at the pinnacle of
literati cuita-rc. This is not to suggest that there was dramatic social
mobility in the mid-Ming. Rather, from Yang's viewpoint, literati of
lower social and political status were assuming the guise of scholar,
sage, and master poet and thereby challenging the authority of the
established cultural elite, of which Yang was a member. "Vulgar" also
implies an aesthetic dimension especially pertinent to Yang Shen, for I
believe his writings reveal him to be an aesthete whose object of pursuit
was not truth, but beauty and elegance. Rather than "philologist" or
"evidential research scholar," Yang Shen is best described as a connoisseur
o f the written word, for whom taste determined value and also had the
social function of excluding those with "vulgar" sensibilities.
Optimus Yang
In 1511 Yang Shen became the most promising young man in the
empire when his name appeared at the top of the list of successful
candidates in the Palace Examination, and is still well-known today
among the populace of Chengduas "Optimus Yang" (Yang Zhuangyuan).
Yang Shen came from an extremely successful Sichuan family, his father
and grandfather having both attained the jinshi degree in the civil service
297
examinations. Their estate in Xindu (located about 10 miles northeast of
Chengdu) remains a popular visiting place and a testimony to the wealth
and influence the Yang family once enjoyed. Due to his father's position,
Yang Shen grew up in the capital among the political and cultural elites
of the empire. At thirteen, his poetry caught the attention of the foremost
literary doyen of the time, Grand Secretary Li Oongyang, who exclaimed
that it was not the work of an ordinary child and immediately accepted
the youthful Yang as his disciple.’0 After placing first in the Palace
Examination a decade later, Yang was made a compiler in the Hanlin
Academy. There he was in continued close contact with individuals of
the most profound erudition whom he actively tried to emulate, and
equally important, had access to the imperial library where he amassed a
prodigious amount of knowledge. Gifted with an excellent memory,
Yang Shen became known for his ability to answer obscure questions
which even baffled the grand secretaries.11
A Hanlin academician from a wealthy family and the son of the
senior grand secretary, it is natural that Yang Shen thought of himself as
among the cream of the elite. This self-perception was enhanced by the
renown he was accorded for his literary skills. At the age of eleven, his
grandfather had already dubbed him "the Jia Yi W|g (200-168 B.C.) of
10Jian Shaofang, "Zeng guanglUqing xian hanlin xiuzhuan Sheng'an Yang

Shen nianpu" [The Biography of the Hanlin Academician Yang Shen], in Wang
Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu, 24.
"In 1517, the Zhengde emperor queried the grand secretaries about the
identity of a star identified as "Zhuzhang" in Ma Duanlin's (1254-1325) Wenxian
tongkao [Comprehensive Investigation o f Literature and Discourse]. None could
reply so they in turn questioned their colleagues in the Hanlin Academy. Again all
stood mute, except for Yang Shen who immediately identified it as Hydra. Jiao
Hong, Sheng'an waiji [Alternate Collection of Yang Shen's Works], Vol. 1 (Taibei:
Xuesheng shuju, 1971), 71.
298
our family" for his literary prowess.12 Yang's relationship with Li
Dongyang, success in the examinations, and the years of training in the
Hanlin Academy reinforced Yang Shen's association of the value of
literary skill with his own self-worth and elite status. Yang Shen would
have probably become a grand secretary in the mould of Li Dongyang
had not political events simultaneously deprived him of his privileged
position and threatened the cultural values he had internalized.
As the son of the senior grand secretary, there was no question of
Yang Shen's affiliation in the Great Ritual Controversy. His role, however,
does not appear to have been prominent, except in connection with the
fateful day in 1524 when Yang joined 134 other officials in a protest
outside the gates of the Forbidden City. After his arrest and beatings,
Yang Shen was ordered into perpetual exile as a common soldier at
Yongchang Garrison (Yongchang wei in eastern Yunnan province.
Yang Shen had the misfortune of provoking a young emperor. He was
never pardoned and died at Yongchang Garrison thirty-five years later
at the age of seventy-one.
The exiled Yang Shen, Hanlin academician shorn of his academy,
turned his literary skills to the defense of elite literati culture, criticizing
the deterioration of values which he likely saw as intimately connected
with his family's political demise. It is in this context that the written
word assumed pivotal importance for Yang. The inability to recognize
the value of the written word was the source of literati degeneration and
mastery of the written word gave Yang Shen the authority to speak for
12Jian Shaofang, "Yang Shen nianpu," 19. As it turned out this was an
inauspicious omen. Like Jia Yi, Yang Shen would be remembered by history as a
writer in exile.
299
genuine literati culture.
Redefining L iterati Learning: Dao as A rt
In spite of the obvious hardships, Yang Shen seems to have made

the best of his exile. He never had to actually take up the duties of a
soldier, nor did he always remain at Yongchang. It seems he had to
return there every so often, depending on the tolerance of officials in the
area. Yang was therefore fairly free to travel around Yunnan and visit a
number of friends and colleagues. He was also a very productive writer.
In this sense, Yang's banishment did not amount to a complete severing
from his life at the Academy, as it provided him the opportunity to use
his literary talents and the knowledge he had been accumulating. Yang,
at times, even made it sound as if exile were a blessing:
If I had not been bom into an official family, how could I

have been sent to be an imperial scribe and had access to
the Hanlin library collections? Having had these, if I did
not have a love of books since birth, how could I have
digested so many? Having all of these, if I had not been
sent to the desolate border, I would not have had the leisure
[to write].13
The long years of exile allowed Yang to become the most prolific author
of the Ming dynasty, his output estimated at over 250 works.14 These
13Quoted in Chen Dake, "Ke taishi Yang Sheng'an quanji xu," in Wang
Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba [Prefaces and Postscripts to Yang Shen's Works]
(Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1985), 120.
14Lin Qingzhang, Mingdai kaojuxue yanjiu, 42.
300
display a truly astounding breadth of erudition, all the more remarkable
considering he had little access to books.15 His memory seemed free to
travel the writings of the past, stopping here and there to define a character,
clarify an ancient pronunciation, or correct a textual misunderstanding.
Philology was only one of Yang Shen's interests, however. He
wrote so much on such a wide variety of topics that efforts to sum up or
pinpoint his general contribution have proved daunting, with just about
every commentator resorting to the epitaph "erudite" (borne 1 $ ljl, literally
"broadly learned”)- He was a prolific poet and a noted poetry critic,
historian, and classical scholar. In his scholarship he often strayed from
legitimate Confucian concerns, however, writing about strange animals
and unusual surnames, collecting songs or poetic passages from Buddhist
sutras. He reveled in the arcane and as we mentioned was also a forger
of ancient texts. Thus "broadly learned" becomes a useful description.
It is accurate, and once more, it nicely encompasses both forgery and
philology, substantial and insubstantial learning. Even while
acknowledging the contradictions in Yang's work, "broad learning" still
remains a useful entry point for understanding Yang's agenda. For if we
consider it in the context of Yang's attack on those who would discount
the textual tradition, erudition is not merely the eclectic consequence of
a man with a scholarly bent and too much time on his hands.
The notion that Confucian literati did not have to master the breadth
15Yang himself apologizes to his readers for not having access to many
books. "Liushu suoyin xu," Sheng'an j i [Collected Works of Yang Shen) (Siku
quanshu reprint; Taibei: Shangwu Yinshuguan, 1986), 2.16b. The Qing bibliophile
and collector of Yang's works, Li Tiaoyuan (1743-1803), defended his imprecision
by pointing out that Yang couldn't carry any books with him into exile and most of
the time was working from memory. Li Tiaoyuan, "Sheng'an zhushu zongmu xu,"
in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba, 65.
301
of the textual tradition in toto, and instead could rely on a reduced
corpus providing the essential meanings of the instructions of the ancient
sages, was an old one. During the Ming, the Confucian canon was
officially reduced to Zhu Xi's Four Books and Five Classics when they
were made the curriculum for the civil service examinations. W e have
already detailed how the most influential Ming Confucian, W ang
Yangming, reduced the Confucian corpus even more radically. Efforts
to reduce the textual tradition in the Ming were also not restricted to
Confucian learning. Li Mengyang and his colleagues captured the literary
stage with their assertion that all poetry must follow the laws found in
the high Tang orthodox models. Their poetic theory was as narrow as
their canon: If one could imitate Du Fu, then one could write superior
poetry.
Evidence from the Classics that the textual tradition could be
reduced to essentials was frequently cited in defense of textual
reductionism. Kongzi's remark that the entire Shijing could be covered
by the single phrase "no depraved thoughts" (si wuxie was the
most compelling example. Wang Yangming invoked the phrase to justify
his own anti-textual doctrines, amending it to cover all the Classics:
The Six Classics can be covered by this one phrase, with

which the speech of the sages and worthies, past and present,
are also exhausted. The phrase "no depraved thoughts"
covers them all. Besides this, is there anything else to
say?16
16Wang Yangming, Chuanxi lu, Part 3, in Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji

(1568; rpt., Shanghai: Zhonghua tushuguan, 1913), 3.7a. For the original phrase in
the Shijing, see Maoshi zhengyi, Shisanjing zhushu, 20.342a. For Confucius' statement
see, Lunyu zhushu, Shisanjing zhushu, 2.5c. I use James Legge's translation. Legge,
The Four Books (Taibei: Huangjia tushu youxian gongsi, 1983), 146.
302
Once the essential message is recognized one need not read any farther.
The ancient sages, we presume, would have done better to limit themselves
to teaching the essential phrase, for beyond that they imparted nothing
of substance and their subsequent efforts at clarification only confused
people.
“Broadly learned" is properly applied to the Confucian gentleman
who is well-versed in the various polite arts. In Yang's case, he at first
glance just appears broader than normal. When we juxtapose Yang's
quest for erudition next to statements by Wang Yangming, however, a
normally unexceptional proclivity becomes a charged political stance.
Quoting Mengzi's "Learn broadly and discuss in detail so that in the end
you can return to the essential," Yang writes:
Someone asked, "After returning to the essential $j, can

learning broadly and discussing in detail be discarded?" I
said, "No. The S h i [Jing] has three-hundred [poems].
Covering them all with one sentence, [Kongzi] said, ‘No
depraved thoughts.’ The Liji has thirty-three hundred
[entries]. Covering them all with one sentence, [the Liji]
says, ‘Never without reverence’ (wu bujing ©T'fSO- If we
teach people today to memorize the six words ‘no depraved
thoughts’ and ‘never without reverence’ and discard the
Shijing and the Liji, is this permissible?”17
Yang admits that the moral import of the Classics can be summed up.
I7"Boyue," Sheng'an ji, 45.29b. For Mencius' statement, seeMengzi, 4b.l5.

My version is based on D. C. Lao's translation in M encius (New York: Penguin
Books, 1984 edition), 30. The line paraphrases Confucius: "The gentleman broadly
versed in culture but brought back to the essentials by the rites." Lunyu, 12.15,
based on D. C. Lao's translation in The Analects (New York: Penguin Books, 1987),
115.
303
Nevertheless, he denies that the text can be replaced by its essential
meaning. Yang does not justify his position with a counter-argument,
but implies that the value of the Classics is not determined according to
their moral content. One is not erudite in order to be moral. One reads
broadly because of the knowledge that the text is valuable in itself. Or
conversely, the text assumes value in the eyes of the reader who has the
breadth of knowledge to appreciate it.
Probably Yang's most complete critique of contemporary culture
and argument for broad learning is found in his letter to Liu Songyang
§PJ!tS!§ (d.u.), prefect of Chongqing. W ritten around 1554, it is an
expression of Yang's mature views. In the main body of the letter, Yang
begins by criticizing Wang Yangming:
Recently miscreant Confucians have created a new learning.

They cut out bits and pieces of the histories and Classics
and turn Confucianism into Chan Buddhism. In the beginning
they made a loud cry in the world. Their theories were
easy to master, and all those who were trying to sell
themselves at the time, and upon self-reflection realized
they were unable to do so on their own merits, followed en
masse. Like ants trying to shake a tree,18 they said that
[Zi] You and [Zi] Xia had strayed from the path; like a
swarm of mosquitoes trying to sound like thunder, they
said [Dong Zhong]shu (1797-104? B.C.) and [Yang]
Xiong (53 B.C.-A.D. 18) were minor talents. Many
upstanding literati have fallen into their trap, but you alone
have not been polluted. I have also heard much about
this.19
18In Han Yu's poem "Diao Zhang Ji" occurs the line: "Ants trying to shake a
giant tree/Laughable, they don't know their own capabilities." Quart tangshi [The
Complete Collection of Tang Poetry, Vol. 10 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1979),
3814.
19nDa Chongqing taishou Liu Songyang shu," Sheng'an ji, 6.5b.
304
Yang makes reference to Wang Yangming's practice of ignoring
the bulk of the Classics while picking out the few parts that nicely
enunciate his "new learning." This disregard for the text is also the
reason Yang Shen charges that Wang Yangming is actually advocating
a Chanist position. Like the Chan Buddhists who denied the efficacy of
the sutras for attaining enlightenment, Wang Yangming, too, emphasized
the primacy of mind in the pursuit of moral understanding, and, according
to Yang, "took the Six Classics as footnotes [to the mind].”20 Similarly,
he and his disciples disregarded the work of great Confucians. Dong
Zhongshu and Yang Xiong were two eminent Han Confucians known
respectively for their classical exegeses and linguistic scholarship. Zi
You and Zi Xia were disciples of Kongzi pointed out by the Master as
having the best literary skills.21 Relieving one from the bulk of the
textual tradition and the necessity for literary skills, Wang's doctrines
were thus "easy to master," appealing of course to those not talented
enough to master the tradition in the first place. W ang's success in
attracting large crowds was precisely because it was designed for the
crowd.
Yang Shen saw Wang Yangming's anti-literary bias as particularly
detrimental to literati culture. Not only did Yang value the Classics and
the texts of Han Confucians, but he reserved the same amount of concern
20Yang Shen, "Chanxue suxue," [Chan Learning and Vulgar Learning],

Sheng'an j i , 75.18b. The quotation is originally from Lu Jiuyuan, Xiangshan quanji
[The Complete Works of Lu Jiuyuan] (Sibu beiyao\ Taibei: Zhonghua shuju, 1979),
34.1b.
2lLunyu, 11.2.
305
and reverence for poetry. Thus the Confucian enterprise appears
inextricably linked to literary endeavor in Yang's eyes. As Yang continues
in his letter to Liu Songyang we see that the crisis in Confucian learning
is mirrored in the decline of poetic standards:
As a child I was often sickly and once grown had no

special talents. However, I have a wild notion different
from common discussions. I say that poetry reached its
height with Du Fu, but the decline of poetry also began
with Du Fu. Classical learning reached its apex with Zhu
Xi, but its obscuration also began with Zhu Xi. This was
not the fault of Du Fu or Zhu Xi. Examining a peony in a
vase, or watching a peach or plum [blossom] on a shelf—it
is the fault of those who imitate them. The imperial carriage
arose from the primitive wheel. The imperial ship began
with a fallen leaf [floating on a pond]. Mountains originated
from small mounds and rivers from over-flowing goblets.
Today it is comparable to a beggar getting the leftovers
from a feast, or a blind man repeating bits of hearsay. No
wonder the Dao is daily obscured and literature daily declines.
I humbly propose to gloss the lines and paragraphs in order
to pursue the eternal words and constant emotions in the
Six Classics before Zhu Xi and study the fonts of poetry
before Du Fu. My will is strong and I am steadfast in my
purpose, like the foolish old man [who wanted to move a
mountain] and Kua Fu who lost his strength [pursuing the
sun's shadow].22
Yang accuses the "imitators" of Zhu Xi and Du Fu, scholars who

exclusively follow Zhu Xi's teachings and poets associated with the
Former Seven Masters, of causing the obscuration of philosophy and
poetry, respectively. By describing them as examining flowers in a vase
or on a shelf, Yang accuses those who imitate Du Fu and Zhu Xi of
22"Da Chongqing taishou Liu Songyang shu," Sheng'an ji, 6.5b-6a.
306
picking out pieces of their works and ignoring the broader tradition
from which they arose. While concentrating on the flower, the tree and
soil from which it grew are forgotten. Like beggars, they take from
scattered leftovers, having no conception of the original banquet.
Particularly striking is the similarity of the accusations leveled at the
followers of Wang Yangming and the imitators of Du Fu and Zhu Xi.
Yang criticizes all three kinds of literati for ignoring the breadth of the
literary tradition, for following simplified theories that are "easy to master,"
and plucking out a few expedient phrases without comprehending the
tradition from which they arose. There is also a striking similarity
between the description of Yang's opponents here and the textual strategy
of his foes during the Great Ritual Controversy who selectively culled
the textual tradition in order to justify their position.
As for the imitators of Zhu Xi, Yang certainly includes literati
whose sole scholarly purpose was to score high on the examinations
without having to master the entire classical tradition. In an essay
entitled "The Vulgarity of the Examination System," Yang Shen makes
clear that the education required for passing the examinations hardly
qualified one as learned:
Our dynasty selects personnel through classical learning.

Literati rarely master anything outside a single Classic and
nowadays they pretend to erudition while having only trifling
knowledge and improperly advance due to empty fame.
They do not investigate the sources and only pay attention
to the superficial. As for the Five Classics and the
philosophers, they repeat scattered sayings which they have
culled. I call this measuring the ocean with a gourd dipper.23
“ "Juye zhi lou," ibid., 52.13b.
307
The examination essay demanded only the appearance of erudition by
requiring the examinee to incorporate appropriate quotes from the great
books. Instead of being genuinely learned, students needed only a
command of the most useful stock phrases, either culled from the Classics
or histories or copied from previously successful examination essays.
Shallow learning was also encouraged by the Ming practice of mandating
that examination candidates need only specialize in one of the Five
Classics.
Equally shallow were the imitators of Du Fu, that is Li Mengyang
and the adherents to his vastly influential poetics. Li himself was a
practitioner of his poetics, and his poetry was later condemned for its
imitativeness. Imitation itself was not the issue for Yang Shen, though.
It is rather the breadth and source of the imitation. He did not object to
Li Mengyang imitating Du Fu. He objected that Li only imitated Du Fu:
Du Zimei [Du Fu] said, "Read ten-thousand books and the

strokes of your own pen will be divine...." Recently literati
have been competing to study Du's poetry. They don't
know about reading books, let alone ten-thousand of them.
At their worst, they do nothing but pick out some fragrant
grass from the Li Sao $111 [On Encountering Sorrow] and
beg leftovers from Duling (Du Fu's residence).... How do
they differ from ants trying to shake a tree?24
In their parochial vision they concentrate on the works of Du Fu to the

exclusion of everything else. They don't read. The implication here is
that one must read widely and have a grasp of the entire poetic tradition
M"Dushu wanjuan," ibid., 60.18b.
308
in order to write good poetry. We recognize Yang's reference to "ants
trying to shake a tree" as the same epithet he uses to describe the disciples
of Wang Yangming. Again the thrust of Yang's charge is that the
disciples of Li Mengyang and Wang Yangming share the same defect,
of having puny abilities, and worse, making a pretentious claim to cultural
authority.
Yang's method for recovering the Dao, as he says in his letter to
Liu Songyang, is to "gloss the lines and paragraphs in order to pursue
the eternal words and constant emotions in the Six Classics." The desire
to return to an original source was not a particularly unique sentiment.
Yet the method by which Yang proposed the Classics be recovered was
at odds with popular trends. He uses the term "gloss" (xun), a kind of
intratextual commentary favored by Han Confucians which usually took
the form of an etymological description of a character, as opposed to the
extratextual commentary aimed at elucidating "meanings and principles"
iyili) preferred by Song Confucians. By doing so, Yang intimates that
the ancients should be approached via the scholarship of the Han dynasty,
the forgotten roots of Song Confucian learning. Yang makes the argument
that one must rely on Han classical commentators since they were closer
in time to Kongzi:
The error of Song Confucians was discarding Han Confucian

[commentaries] while only using their own perspective....
The Six Classics were done at the time of Kongzi. The
time of the Han [dynasty] was not yet far removed from
Kongzi. Although the men who transmitted them might be
inferior, their discussions could easily attain to the truth.
Song Confucians were fifteen hundred years after Kongzi!
Although their intelligence might surpass [normal] men,
how could they in a moment completely discard the old
309
and realize [the truth] alone in their minds? The profundity
of the Six Classics is analogous to the luxury of the capital.
People in Henan and Shandong attain to some sixty or
seventy percent of it. If it is a person from Yunnan or
Guizhou, they only attain to some ten to twenty percent.
Why is this? It is the difference between near or far. Taking
the Song Confucians and rejecting the Han Confucians is
analogous to people in Yunnan and Guizhou who have
never been outside of their village sitting and discussing
the formalities of the capital and contradicting people from
Henan and Shandong. It is highly unlikely that they would
not be a laughing-stock.25
By claiming that Han Confucian scholarship was the gateway to the Six
Classics, and presumably the Dao, and rejecting a reliance on Song
Learning, Yang positions himself in square opposition to Zhu Xi. For
Zhu Xi, the opposite was true. The Dao was obscured by Han Confucians
and not rediscovered until the Song. The source of disagreement is not
a different view of history however, but a different view of Dao, or
more precisely, the relationship between Dao and the written word. For
Zhu Xi, and Wang Yangming, the word was at best an external
manifestation of Dao, ultimately separate from and subordinate to it. At
worst, the word was frivolous literary distraction, enticing the devotee
from the moral path.
W hat the Dao was for Yang and how he thought it could be
attained is implied in his work, though he was not inclined to philosophical
speculation and rarely used the term "Dao." In Yang's preface to a book
he wrote called Liushu suoyin [Tracing the Hidden Meanings
of the Six Kinds of Characters], there is an extremely abbreviated
“ "Rizhong xingniao," ibdi., 42.3b-4a.
310
discussion of the term. The book is no longer extant, but appears to
have been a kind of dictionary in the genre of the Han dynasty Shuowen
jiezi [Explanations of Characters and Analyses of Their Parts]
in which the division of all characters into six categories according to
phonological and ideographic constituents was for the first time fully
explained and also used for etymological analysis. In the preserved
preface, Yang relates that he gave the book to someone to read and after
looking at it that peison challenged him, saying: "This is art (y i H).
W hat has it got to do with Dao?" Yang's concise retort was, "Art is
Dao.”26
What was the art to be mastered? The answer lies in the kind of
work the Liushu suoyin was: a guide to the construction of Chinese
characters. With this book and others in a similar vein, Yang attempted
to delineate the knowledge and skills necessary for mastering the Chinese
literary corpus on a character level. For example, Yang also wrote the
Shuowen xianxun [A Preliminary Gloss on the Shuowen\, the

first work on the Shuowen jiezi written in the Ming dynasty. The key
for Yang was the Chinese character, whose etymology, pronunciation,
and epigraphic origins were in large measure lost to his contemporaries,
literally "hidden," and could be brought to light only by those scholars
who had the specific understanding of how they were constructed and
the broad knowledge of the ancient textual heritage in which they are
found.
Yang's radical redefinition of Dao, and thus the entire Confucian
agenda, goes well beyond returning to the Classics before Zhu Xi, and
“ "Liushu suoyin xu," 2.17a.
311
perhaps even beyond the claims of the bulk of Han Confucians. Yang
in fact is claiming that the entire Confucian tradition has been off track
with its compulsive search within man's nature or in the patterns of the
universe. Quoting from the preface to Liushu suoyin again: "Kongzi's
nature and Dao never departed from literary endeavor, Zi Gong just
never connected them .”27 This deviation was exacerbated by Sima
Qian 145-87 B.C.) who reported that in his later years Kongzi
loved the Yijing so much that the strings holding together the wooden
strips wore out three times.28 According to Yang, this gave the mistaken
impression that ''the abstruse was the pinnacle of learning and knowing
characters was wrong." Thus the obscuration of the Dao began with
Kongzi's own disciple and was exacerbated during the Han. By the
Ming, the situation appears almost irretrievable. Yang sums up the
present state of learning, saying:
Today this [philological] learning has been completely

discarded and lost. Those who talk about "nature" and
"decree" don't go beyond copying the dregs of Cheng [Yi]
and Zhu [Xi]. Those who practice literary skill stop at
culling elegant lines from the Shi\ji] [Records of the
Historian] and the Han [shu] g ilt [Han History]. But show
them the construction of characters from form and
pronunciation, or question them with the Cang[Jie] Ifn i,
[.E r\ya M S , [Zi\lin and [Zi\tong ¥ M ,29 then they are
27Ibid. Zi Gong said, "We can hear of the Master's literary endeavor, but
cannot hear him talk about nature or Dao." Lunyu, 5.13.
^bid. Shiji [Records of the Historian], Sima Qian compiler (Beijing: Zhonghua
shuju, 1989), 47.1937.
J8The Cang Jie records the epigraphic style of small seal script characters,
written by their inventor, Li Si (?-208 B.C.), Prime Minister during the Qin dynasty
(221-207 B.C.). Li Si named the book after Cang Jie, the alleged inventor of
312
not as good as Qin legal clerks and Han boys with writing
tablets. How can they see within the palace walls of the
ancients? Disturbed by this situation, I wanted to take the
ancient text large seal characters as the patriarch, [Xu] Shen's
R (30-124) Shuowen jiezi as the ancestral lineage, and
the best of the theories of the various philosophers, organize
them and comment upon them.30
Yang's redefinition of the Confucian tradition entailed the creation of a

new lineage of learning detailing the transmission of philological skill,
likely a conscious challenge to Zhu Xi's orthodox transmission of the
Dao. Yang provides a detailed textual lineage of fifteen philological
works which he divides into either pre- or post-Shuowen jiezi, beginning
with the "Goulou Peak memorial tablet to Yu the Great" (Dayu goulou
zhi bei written in "pollywog" script and dating, according
to Yang, from the mythical Xia dynasty, to Song works such as Zhang
You's §gM (1054-1124) Fugu pian [Restored Form of Characters].
He also provides a long list of those who "made contributions to philology"
beginning with Kongzi, and singles out many Song scholars for praise,
including W u Cailao ^ 7 f^ (? -1 1 5 4 ) who wrote a number of books on
phonology. Yang also accuses many scholars for vulgarizing ancient
characters or mixing modem pronunciations with the ancient. For instance,
Yang notes that unlike the scholars who transmitted the ancient tradition
intact and did not "inject their subjective opinions," scholars such as
Zheng Qiao (1104-1162) did not base their scholarship on the
writing. The Erya [Approaching Correctness] is a dictionary compiled by many
hands dating from around the early Western Han dynasty (206 B.C.- 23 A.D.). The
Zilin [Forest of Characters Dictionary] was probably the first clerical script dictionary,
written by Lu Chen (ca. 300). The Zitong [Comprehensive Character Dictionary]
was a large seal script dictionary, preface dated 1220, by Li Congzhou (d.u.).
30"Liushu suoyin xu," 2.16b.
313
Shuowen jiezi and "treated their mind as teacher.”
Attaining philological skills, the art of Dao, demanded broad
erudition well beyond the textual confines of Confucian learning or
literary practices as commonly defined in the Ming dynasty. Mastery
over the written word necessitated thorough familiarity with its ancient
source and development, internal structure, and the long tradition of
scholarship that sought to collect and delineate this knowledge. Once
the art of Dao was attained, it was of course applied to the work of
reading and writing, but one may ask if an overriding goal supplanted
the sagehood ideal of Song and Ming Confucians just as Yang's new
definition supplanted their metaphysical definition of the term "Dao."
Did Yang Shen's art merely afford him the satisfaction of peering over
the walls of the ancients?
Philology and Forgery; Displays of Linguistic Mastery
According to the way Yang Shen phrases it in the preface to the

Liushu suoyin, "returning to the ancients" (fugu U S ) is not his sole
purpose, as he pairs this with another compound, "lancing vulgarity"
(biansu fu g u SS-fSttS).31 Yang's medical metaphor impresses on the
reader his desire to "cure" the ills of his age. Yang frequently uses
martial metaphors as well, highlighting his "battle" with the forces of
vulgarity. W hen compiling his Zhouguan yingu J i l l I f [Examination
of Pronunciations in the Zhouguan], Yang incorporated the glosses of
31Ibid., 2.17a.
314
various Han and Tang scholars, likening it to "opening an arsenal and
using the five types of weapons.”32 Yang also used military strategy as
a metaphor for learning in general:
Shang Jun said: "Using strength to vanquish the strong is

weakness; using strength to vanquish the weak is strength."
Guanzi said: "Attack the point of weakness and the strong
is weak; attack the point of strength and the weak is strong."
This is military strategy, but it is also the same for learning.33
These martial metaphors underscore Yang's perception of Confucian

learning as a skill. They acquire added significance, however, when we
consider the extent to which Yang used his linguistic skills as a weapon
to attack his rival literati. This combative use of philology and metaphor
may reflect the impact of the Great Ritual Controversy which was, after
all, an immense political battle waged for the most part with textual
arguments.
On a tactical level, linguistic mastery was an end in itself as it
provided Yang Shen the ability to "lance" his opponents. Philological
learning was the weapon of choice because it exposed the "point of
weakness" of Ming literati, and this is where Yang Shen attacked
unrelentingly. Yet by far Yang’s favorite target was Zhu Xi, the scholar's
exemplar. Who else could give Yang Shen a better match, and in defeat
make Yang Shen a more decisive victor? In his letter to Liu Songyang,
Yang Shen appears to be praising Du Fu and Zhu Xi, or at least absolving
them from the sins of their admirers, but this posture should be seen as
32"Zhouguan yingu xu," Sheng'an ji, 2.6a.

33"Qiangruojianxia," ibid, 71.4a.
315
part of the humble pose required of this kind of social intercourse.
Yang could not very well say that Zhu Xi was not a worthy representative
of the Confucian tradition. From his other writings, however, we discover
this is exactly what Yang claims.34 Rather than illumine the Dao,
according to Yang, Zhu Xi himself obscured it.
Throughout his classical commentaries Yang repeatedly accuses
Zhu Xi of misreading ancient texts. Although I have suggested these
accusations are self-serving, they often accurately undermine the excessive
conclusions to which Zhu Xi was prone. Commenting on a line from
the Zhongyong 41# [Doctrine of the Mean] which reads, "The Master
(Kongzi) said, T h e virtue of ghosts and spirits, how abundant indeed!’"
Zhu Xi claimed that ghosts and spirits are the two qi of yin and yang
which are the products of creation and transformation.35 Yang Shen
dismisses the metaphysical interpretation and counters that Kongzi was
simply talking about sacrifices to ghosts and spirits. In his search for
meanings and principles, Zhu Xi stands rightly accused of "denying the
language of the text.”36
Zhu Xi is found guilty of imposing his views on the text, but
perhaps even more devastating is Yang Shen's charge that Zhu Xi lacked
the philological skills necessary to read ancient characters. Most often,
T o r a discussion of Yang's criticism that Du Fu's poetry was too straight

forward and lacked the subtlety of analogy, see Chen Youqin, "Tan Yang Shen
piping Du Fu," in Jia Shunxian and Lin Qingzhang, eds., Yang Shen yanjiu ziliao
huibian, Vol. 2, 832-4. For Yang Shen's criticism of Du Fu's poetry as "clumsy,"
see Ding Fubao, Lidai shihua xubian [Additional Collection of Talks on Poetry from
Various Ages], Vol. 2 (Taibei: Muduo chubanshe, 1981), 706.
3SZhu Xi, "Zhongyong zhangju," Sishu wujing songyuanren zhu [The Four
Books and the Five Classics with Song and Yuan Dynasty Commentaries] (Beijing:
Zhongguo shudian, 1984), Vol. 1,6.
36"Guishen weide," Sheng'an j i, 45.4a-5a.
316
Yang Shen's corrections of Zhu Xi's scholarship show little concern
with "peering over the walls of the ancients" and are merely intent on
showing that a certain character has been misunderstood, or that Zhu Xi
has followed "vulgar opinion" instead of the glosses in the Shuow en.
Characteristic of Yang's scholarly jabs is a general absence of any
reflection on how his corrections effect the meaning of a passage. Yang
appears content to display his erudition and the poor philological
knowledge of Zhu Xi, or just make Zhu Xi appear as foolish as possible.
For instance, in his reading of the famous lament by Kongzi, "Am I a
bitter gourd, to be strung up without being eaten?" Zhu Xi says: "A
bitter gourd tied to one place unable to eat or drink...." Yang, of course,
relishes the opportunity: "‘Am I a bitter gourd’ says that the gourd is
bitter and people do not eat it, not that the gourd is unable to eat or
drink. Since when is the fruit of a plant able to eat or drink?!”37
If his unreflective criticism of Zhu Xi suggests that Yang may
have been rather less interested in the objective analysis and verification
of the textual tradition, other evidence confirms it. Rather than revealing
the true face of antiquity, a noble design normally central to the concerns
o f Chinese philologists, Yang Shen, it appears, consciously obscured it
by forging some of the texts he worked on. I don't believe Yang's
behavior is pathological, like the fireman moonlighting as an arsonist.
The analogy still applies though, insofar as a truly excellent forger must
possess the knowledge of an expert philologist. Herein may lie Yang's
purpose, for in this sense forgery is an equally effective method for
37Sheng'an waiji, 36.24; and Lin Qingzhang, Mingdai kaojuxue yanjiu, 69.
Confucius' lament is in Lunyu, 17.7. For Zhu Xi's commentary, see his Lunyu jizhu,
Sishu wujing songyuanren zhu, V ol.l, 74.
317
displaying linguistic mastery. At times Yang's fakery appears almost
playful, not concerned so much with passing off his product as genuine
as with showing off the fact that he can produce something of the same
quality as the original. Ding Fubao, in his preface to Yang Shen's
collected comments on poetry, points out that Yang is fond of slipping a
line of Ms own creation into poems of past masters. In an example Ding
cites, Yang discusses three-line poems, according to Mm the most difficult
of styles as well as the most rare, there being no more than four or five
extant specimens (This is typical of the arcane knowledge that Yang
revels in.). The first three-line poem wMch Yang presents was supposedly
penned by Cen ZMjing (ca. 570). The first two lines are indeed
from a yuefu poem by Cen, but the third line is Yang's creation, as is the
new hybrid poem's title.38 TMs may be a concrete example of what
Ding Fubao calls Yang's "fondness for fabricating ancient texts in order
to prove Ms own theories.”39 Yet one doubts whether Yang in this case
was so serious. It is rather more likely that he enjoyed sharing a small
joke with those who could match Ms erudition.40
Other instances of forgery by Yang Shen betray a much more
elaborate scheme of deception. This is the case with Yang's Guwen
cantongqi [Ancient Script C antongqi], a book on Daoist
cultivation attributed to Wei Boyang ifffiil(fl. 142). The oldest version
38Ding Fubao, Lidai shihua xubian, Vol. 2. Ding Fubao's comments can be
found on p. 634. Yang's entry on three-line poems are in the same volume, 647.
39Lidai shihua xubian, Vol. 2,634.

■“ Yang Shen has also been accused of the more mundane violation of
plagiarizing other's work in his own poetry. See Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu,
499.
318
of the text extant during the Ming was the Zhouyi cantongqi tongzhenyi
[Comprehensive True M eaning of the Z h o u y i
Cantongqi3, arranged and with a commentary by Peng Xiao (10th
c.). From Peng Xiao we learn the alleged genealogy of the text. Wei
Boyang secretly showed his book to a subofficial known only by his
surname, Xu ff, who wrote an anonymous commentary on it. During
the reign of emperor Hengdi (147-168) the book was then received by
someone named Shu Tong MM who then made it more generally
available.41
Peng Xiao's text is organized topically and divided into a
fragmentary 90 sections, corresponding to the number nine associated
with the yang principle in the Yijing. Yang Shen accuses Peng Xiao of
misrepresenting Wei Boyang’s ideas and presiding over a text so hopelessly
jum bled that W ei's original work is indistinguishable from Xu's
commentary. Luckily, Yang says he was able to copy a stone inscription
of the original Eastern Han text which was "recently unearthed" in the
suspiciously imprecise location of "in the south.”42 Yang's new "ancient"
version differed from Peng's text by separating out and reorganizing
three m ajor textual strands: the original work by Wei Boyang, the
commentary by a now fully identified Xu Jingxiu and a heretofore
unknown supplement written by Shu Tong.
Yang's ancient text was believed by many of his contemporaries
to be genuine and was soon widely available, especially on the Jiangnan
41Peng Xiao, "Xu," Zhouyi cantongqi tongzhenyi [Comprehensive True

Meaning of the Zhouyi cantongqi\ (reprint; Zhengzhou: Zhongzhou guji chubanshe,
1988,1-182), la-b.
42Yang Shen, "Guwen cantongqi xu," Sheng'an ji, 2.3b-2.5b.
319
book market. In his preface Yang says that "soon after [I copied it]
someone from Wu (Suzhou) arrived and then there was a printed edition."
The edition that appeared in Suzhou, though exactly the same as Yang
Shen's text, nevertheless claimed a different pedigree. The preface by
the purported author, a certain Du Yicheng tfc—M(d.u), is dated 1517,
almost thirty years prior to Yang's preface dated 1546.43 In it Du
claims that after expending extreme mental effort he suddenly had a
spiritual understanding and the tangled phrases of the text became clear
like fog lifting and ice melting. For added measure, the Suzhou editors
also included an alternate preface. In it the author states he was given
an ancient edition by a man from Huiji (Suzhou), adding that with the
appearance of this ancient version all fake editions of the text would be
corrected.44 Huiji was Wei Boyang's home town according to Peng
Xiao.45 It may be that the publishers of the Suzhou edition were trying
to make their book more attractive to potential buyers by claiming for it
a precise geographical source that tallied with what little was known
about the original author. If so, this, plus the early date of Du Yicheng's
preface, would appear specifically aimed at undercutting potential
competition from any editions with Yang Shen's preface.46 The tables
43Qiu Zhao'ao, "Lieyan," Guwen zhouyi cantongqi jizh u [Collected

Commentaries on the Ancient Script Zhouyi cantongqi] (ca. 1704; rpt., Shanghai:
Guji chubanshe, 1990), 11a.
44I have not seen a copy of this edition or the prefaces. The portions I cite
here are found in Yang Shen's preface. A portion of Du Yicheng's preface is also
preserved in Qiu Zhao'ao, "Lieyan," 10b.
4SIn the text of the Cantongji a reference is made to "a coarse fellow from
Huiji" which Peng Xiao reads as Wei Boyang referring to himself. Zhouyi cantongqi
tongzhenyi, 3.10a.
46 Yang's text was also printed in Yunnan. Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu,
320
turned, it was Yang Shen's turn to level the charge of forgery. Yang
calls the remarks in Du Yicheng's preface "self-delusion and a severe
deception of others." He calls the alternate preface "laughable," akin to
a thief who covers his own ears while stealing a bell.47
Yang Shen's attempt to inauthenticate the Du Yicheng edition
was not entirely successful, for we find later scholars, Xu Wei
(1521-93) for instance, insisting that Yang Shen had copied Du Yicheng's
text.48 Doubts were also raised about the authenticity of the text itself,
m ost notably by Hu Yingiin (1551-1602).49 Yet during the
Wanli Tfjfg reign (1573-1619) no less than three works based on Yang's
ancient script version of the Cantongqi were printed. One of these,
Jiang Yibiao's [fl- 1614] Guwen cantongqi jijie
[Collected Explanations of the Ancient Text Cantongqi], was even copied
into the Siku imperial library collection. In their annotation to Jiang's

book, the Siku editors in some respects restore Yang Shen's good name
by pronouncing him the genuine forger of the Guwen cantongqi. It may
strike one as curious that the Siku editors copied a book they knew to be
308. To make matters more confusing, in his postscript to the Guwen cantongqi,
Yang's friend Zhang Han says the stone inscription was unearthed in Suzhou. Ibid,
216. This is probably the original story Yang gave. I think it is likely that Zhang
Han knew the truth, but wrote his postscript before the appearance of the edition
with Du Yicheng's preface. When the Suzhou edition did appear, Yang Shen could
hardly claim that it was fake while at the same time sticking to his story about a
stone inscription unearthed in Suzhou. Therefore in his preface he makes the origin
of the inscription the less precise, "in the south." Cleverly, it does not contradict the
previous story, and yet could be taken by others as meaning somewhere close to
Yang's home in Yunnan.
47" Guwen cantongqi xu," 2.4b-2.5a.
'“Xu W ei} "Daren wencantong," Xu Wei j i [Collected Works of Xu Wei]

(Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1983), 16.475.
49Hu Yingiin expresses his doubts in his Yilin xueshan, one o f his three
works correcting Yang Shen. Quoted in Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu, 308.
321
a forgery into the collection. They did so, they tell us, "in order to
clarify the origin of the forgery and disorder so that others in the future
will not be confused." As it has turned out, the Siku editors' fears were
well-founded, as Yang's text has enjoyed a contemporary popular
resurgence. The Shanghai-based Classical Book Publishing House has
recently produced a reprint of the 1710 edition of Qiu Zhao'ao's [1685
j.s.] Guwen zhouyi cantongqi jizhu [Collected
Commentaries on the Ancient Script Zhouyi Cantongqi3, which is based

on Yang Shen's forged text, as part of its Qigong and Life Preservation
Series.
Yang Shen no doubt was interested in the Cantongqi because
"its rhyming words are all ancient, profound and elegant, and difficult to
comprehend.”50 The difficulty of the language, combined with the
obviously jum bled state of Peng's text, gave Yang the opportunity to
exhibit his skill in imitating the ancients. But Yang's display of literary
mastery was also meant to contrast with the ignorance of his opponents.
Thus Yang the master forger was spurred on in his work knowing that
Zhu Xi also wrote the Guwen Zhouyi cantongqi kaoyi
M [An Investigation of Discrepancies in the Zhouyi Cantongqi], based
on Peng Xiao's manuscript. In a piece of well-rehearsed drama, a
triumphant Yang Shen exults in his preface, "I delight in the recovery of
ancient script and in obtaining that which Master Zhu [Xi] never saw!”51
Once again, Yang Shen can claim to have peered over the walls of the
S0This is Zhu Xi's description of the C an tongqi. Siku quanshu zongmu

[Catalogue of the Complete Collection of the Four Treasuries], Ji Yun, et al. compiler
(1822 reprint. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1965), 1249a.
S1" Guwen cantongqi xu," 2.5a.
322
ancients while Zhu Xi was left struggling in the moat.
Zhu Xi wrote the book under the pseudonym Zou Xin say
the Siku editors, because he realized that a book on Daoist cultivation

was not a proper object of interest for a Confucian.52 Zou Xin, however,
was actually a "hidden name" (yinming H ^ ) , that is, a pseudonym which
simultaneously provides clues to the author's true identity.53 Zhu Xi's
failure to entirely cover up his tracks is probably symptomatic of the
ambiguous relationship he had with the Cantongqi. Yang Shen recognizes
the Cantongqi as a Daoist text without the ambivalences of Zhu Xi and
certainly without the shame the Siku editors thought he should feel.
One may well ask if heterodoxical interests were allowable for a "genuine
Confucian" like Yang Shen as long as they were covered by the cloak of
erudition. By way of an answer, we should notice that Yang Shen ends
his preface to the Guwen cantongqi with a warning against trying to
delve into Daoist secrets:
Symbolic and metaphorical language is sometimes used as

potions or recognized as alchemical formulas, leading men
to lose their lives and property. Those who are successful
number one or two in ten thousand. Disaster strikes eight
or nine out of ten. Ban Gu Jffii [32-92 A.D.] said, "...
There are more and more strange and perverse writings,
but these are not the things with which the sages instructed."
52 Siku quanshu zotigmu, 1249a.
^The riddle of Zou Xin was solved for later readers by Huang Ruijie (12th
c.) who wrote an appendix to Zhu Xi's text. For an explanation of how to discover
the identity of Zhu Xi from Zou Xin, see Siku quanshu zongmu, 1249a. For an
English version, see Liu Ts'un-yan's description of Zhu Xi's work in Yves Hervouet,
ed., A Song Bibliography (Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1978), 369-7.
Coincidentally, Yang Shen claims that Wei Boyang hid his name in a number of
sentences in his preface to the Cantongqi which were iater mistaken for alchemical
recipes. "Hanren hao zuo yinyu," Sheng'an ji, 4 6 .15b.
323
How excellent are these words!54
It appears more than coincidental that Yang Shen quotes Ban Gu, the
Eastern Han historian and rough contemporary of Wei Boyang, the
reputed author of the Cantongqi. Is the Cantongqi according to Yang
then also "strange and perverse”? Perhaps. At least it seems to have
this potential. In any case, Yang's caution concerning the contents of
the book stands in sharp relief to his unrestrained delight with the text
itself: "Alas, Eastern Han ancient script surviving today is extremely
rare. This book is like a broken jade tablet made whole again or a
shattered jade disk once more joined together. It is truly to be treasured!”55
Yang clearly values the text, not because of its contents, but because of
the ancient characters in which it is written. Similarly, we recall that he
rejected extracting the essential meaning from the Classics, not because
it could not be done, but because the Classics had a value beyond their
meaning. It is the written word itself for Yang which is to be treasured
regardless of its function as a conveyer of meaning. This is certainly
true on a philological level, where examples of ancient script become a
resource in the study of epigraphy. Therefore, to return for a moment to
the issue of heterodoxy, the Cantongqi, seen as a collection of ancient
script, would never strike Yang as unsuitable. Heterodoxy refers to
texts, not to characters.
Yang's use of the metaphors of ancient jade accord with the
sensibilities of the philologist cum archeologist. Yet I think they also
reveal Yang as an aesthete. He not only gains knowledge from ancient
54" Guwen cantongqi xu," 2.5a-b.
“ Ibid., 2.5a.
324
characters, but also pleasure in viewing and writing them, for they are,
like jades, objects of beauty in their own right. We should consider that
the sheer pleasure of writing ancient script may have been a motivation
for Yang to forge the Cantongqi in the first place.
T extual CoimoisseursMp
At Five Li Slope in Huichuan, next to the Yi guard post,

there is an ancient plum tree, shining venerably, its shape
like a crooked umbrella, appointed with variegated moss,
its pattern like seal script characters, probably many hundreds
of years old. Of all the plums I have seen in my life, this
one is paragon. It is a shame it lives amidst desolate mountains
on the far frontier with no noble men or poets to sing its
praises.
Yang Shen, "Nanzhi qu xu" [Preface to Plum

Blossom Song]56
Yang Shen sees in the ancient plum tree a likeness to himself.

Though worthy of the attention of great men, the tree is hidden from the
world, forced to live out its years, as Yang says in the poem which
follows, in a "pestilent land." The poem also includes the line: "Standing
alone separated from the world, who is there to commiserate with you?"
Yang feels bitter that his talents are not being used. He feels alone,
forgotten. This is the dominant theme in the poem. Besides their common
36Printed in Wang Wencai, Yang Shen shixuan [Collected Poems o f Yang

Shen] (Chengdu: Sichuan renmin chubanshe, 1981), 38.
325
exile, there are other reasons why Yang attaches significance to the tree.
One appears to be its age, mentioned twice in the preface and once in
the poem—“your dark fragrance and ancient beauty preeminent in the
forest." Dwelling on the ancient is accentuated by the curious line
describing the patterns {wen also meaning "literature”) of the plum
branches as seal script characters. Both the plum and the characters are
"ancient." The ancient is also related in Yang's mind with the themes of
separation and obscurity. Like Yang and the tree, the ancients and their
wen have been banished to the recesses of history, and for the vast
majority of Yang's contemporaries, the ancient arts, like seal script
characters, were forgotton. So Yang is at once the tree, solitary, cut off,
but he is also the one "noble man," the one "poet," who discovers the
tree and sings its praises, just as he rediscovers the wen of the ancients
and proclaims his find to the literati world.
Yang Shen's description of branches as characters catches our
attention because it is not the stock phraseology of Chinese poetry. For
the 16th century reader as well, it could conjure other unpoetic associations.
The root and branches of a tree are used as a metaphor for learning in
the D axue to illustrate the importance of sequence and priority. The
metaphor was also adopted by Zhu Xi who specifically associated literature
with branches. Zhu Xi's tree metaphor established the relationship between
Dao and literature, clearly subordinating literature to the moral imperative
of Dao. The result was a guarded appraisal of literature, for it was to be
valued only insofar as it was an expression of the moral foundation.
Wang Yangming also used the tree metaphor in his discussions of learning:
Those who plant trees must nourish the root. Those who
326
cultivate morality must nurture the mind. If you want the
tree to grow tall, you must remove excess branches during
the initial stage of growth. If you want morality to flourish,
you must abandon outside enjoyments during the initial
stage of learning. For instance, if one has the exterior
pleasure of poetry and literature, then spiritual energy will
gradually be wasted on poetry and literature.57
In Wang Yangming's branches metaphor, literature ocupies an even

more subordinate position than for Zhu Xi. For Wang it must be pruned
as it is an impediment to learning.
Yang Shen confronts the old plum tree in the wilds of Yunnan
and sees a concretization of the branches-as-literature metaphor when
the branches actually appear to him as written characters. From this
unique perspective priorities are reversed. The wen of the tree is the
focus of his gaze and the source of his admiration for the "ancient
beauty" of the plum. We see here further indication that Yang's response
to ancient characters is primarily aesthetic, for whom "beautiful" is the
epithet for all things ancient and/or rare.
Yang's perception of the written word differed from that of Zhu
Xi, and especially Wang Yangming. Wang Yangming was a pedagogue.
For W ang the value of the written word stemmed entirely from its
functionality, and thus he mistrusted the word because it could drain
"spiritual energy" from the task of moral cultivation. Even its capability
to function at all was questioned by Wang: "One cannot speak about the
Dao. Force it into words and it only becomes more obscure.”58 Wang
57Chuanxi lu, part 1 , 1.17a.
^"Jianzhai shuo," Wang Yangming xiansheng quanji, 7.18a.
327
the pedagogue had to speak, however, and thus was forced to admit that
the word functioned to some degree, that by telling people about liangzhi
(“innate moral knowledge”) he made some positive impact on them.
Given Wang's doubts about the efficacy of language, it is ironic that the
success of his pedagogy rested precariously on the claim that the words
lia n g z h i had an alm ost magical power of affecting im m ediate
understanding: "Since these two characters liangzhi are something which
everyone has, then even with the most ignorant and lowly, as soon as
they are mentioned they understand.”59 The value of the word for
W ang depended upon its capacity to be commonly or universally
understood.
The notion that Confucian doctrine should be heard and understood
by all played an important role in Song Learning, likely influencing the
development of the vernacular "recorded conversations" iyulu). Common
articles and food items were used as metaphors for Confucian learning
during the Song. For instance, Zhang Zai described the teaching of
Cheng Yi, likening it to "cotton cloth, silk, beans, and rice.”60 Zhang's
use of metaphor underscored the universality of Cheng's doctrine as
well as the myth of mass accessibility. In contrast, belles lettres were
associated with luxuries. Ming Taizu, for example, extolled the virtues
of the chuanqi play Pipa ji [The Lute], comparing it to fine food:
The Four Books and Five Classics are the cotton cloth, silk,
S9In this case Wang makes a case for the efficacy of language by conflating
the characters "innate knowledge" with the ability to know intuitively. "Ji Zou
Qianzh,i" no. 3, ibid., 6.2b.
“ "Cheng Yi zhuan," Songshi [Official History of the Song Dynasty], Tuo

Tuo et al. compilers (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1977), Vol. 12,720.
328
beans, and grain. Every family has them. Gao Ming's itj
(1305-68) Pipa j i is like the precious flavors from the
mountains and seas (shanzhen haicuo which rich
and noble families cannot do without.61
Food metaphors distinguishing staples from delicacies functioned to

establish priorities in much the same way as the root and branches
metaphor. Predictably, Wang Yangming also used food as a metaphor
for learning, emphasizing the function of food to satiate hunger. As for
"the scholars of later generations who inquire broadly and know alot,"
Wang says, their food only gets stuck in their gullets where it can't be
digested.62 Not only are they unable to make use of their food, but they
likely eat the wrong things. When Zhan Ruoshui said, "If it satisfies
your hunger, you need not inquire after the ingredients," Wang Yangming
vehemently objected to his phrasing. "Those who sincerely know about
satiating hunger certainly eat the five grains," corrected W ang.63 Wang's
food metaphors underscored his commitment to practical pedagogy and
mirrored his attitude toward language. Food must feed the belly and
language must educate the listener. "Delicacies" had no place in his
doctrine lest diners be distracted by flavor and pursue sensual enjoyment
instead of good nutrition. The strong anti-aesthetic and anti-sensual
bias in Wang Yangming's doctrine, exemplified by such warnings as
"beautiful flavors numb people's palates,”64 should be understood to
encompass language and literature as well as the more obvious physical
61Xu Wei, "Nanci shulu," Cengbu quyuan (Shanghai: Liuyi shuju, 1932),
Vol. 2 ,1 .
62Chuanxi lu, part 3 , 3.3b.
“ "Yu Gu Weixian," ibid., 27.16.
MChuanxi lu, part 1 ,1 .18b.
329
lures of selfish desire.
Yang Shen did not care for the diet or the doctrines of Cheng Yi
and Wang Yangming, and their food metaphors became a target of his
wit:
In recent tim es people use Dao Learning to deceive

themselves and conceal their poverty and vulgarity, saying,
"I do not condescend to engage in literature." Their writings
are nothing but pieces copied from Song recorded
conversations and they announce to others, "My writing is
cotton cloth, silk, beans, and grain!" I often make fun of
them and say, "Beans and grain are truly beans and grain,
but I am afraid they are moldy leftovers too rotten to eat!”65
Yang Shen's incorporation of food metaphors in his own writings pointedly

have nothing to do with satiating hunger, but appeal to higher taste. In
Yang's preface to his commentary on the Shanhaijing \UMM [Classic of
Mountains and Seas], he records a conversation with an acquaintance
who reproaches Yang for wasting his efforts on frivolous texts, saying
that he himself never has leisure time to read such books as the Shanhaijing
and the Wenxuan [Selections of Refined Literature], but if he did he
would nevertheless spend it reading the Six Classics. Yang responds,
arguing from aesthetic considerations that one ought to read beyond the
Six Classics:
The Six Classics are the five grains. Is there anyone who
does not eat the five grains? Although this is the case,
beyond the Six Classics, the Shanhaijing and the Wenxuan
are dishes having the precious flavors from the mountains
and seas (shanzhen haicuo). If one only eats the five grains
“ "Lu Han lun wen," Sheng'an j i, 52.1b-2a.
330
and lacks delicacies, it is like a rich village farmer whom
people make fun of for being like an old cow or goat [with
a severely restricted diet].66
Yang's comments are critical of literati who feel satisfied with the narrow
corpus of texts encouraged by the examination system and the doctrines
of Wang Yangming and Zhu Xi. Yang admits the functionality and
necessity of the Six Classics, but argues for the desirability of less
mainstream texts by applying different criteria. Using a sensual metaphor,
Yang argues for their ability to provide aesthetic enjoyment. Notice
Yang does not claim any other purpose for reading these books, unless
we count avoiding people's ridicule of one's parochial tastes. W e see a
subtext here similar to that in his ode to the plum tree. These marginal
texts are valuable because they are ancient and rare; they are "delicacies,"
literally "rare/strange objects" (qipin pb).
The Classics themselves cannot be construed as vulgar, although
by themselves, without the refinement of other literature, they are hardly
palatable. In a recorded conversation between Yang Shen and his close
friend Zhang Han (1479-1565), Zhang says:
The Six Classics are the large and small cuts of meat. With
Mr. Zuo as the head chef, Gongyang as the pastry chef, Qu
Ping (Qu Yuan) providing the dough and [Sima] Xiangru
the kneading utensils, it will no doubt be delicious! But
without Guo Pu's oysters, Xie Ke's (Xie Lingyun) mussels
and Liu Yi seated on the guest mat, would gentleman [readers]
be entirely satisfied?67
66,1Shanhaijing ba," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba, 39.
67"Chidu qingcai xu," in ibid., 250.
331
Compared to raw food, the universal symbol of imrefinement, the Classics
alone are seen as unable to provide the enjoyment demanded by those
with cultivated tastes and cultural refinement. The light tone of these
banquet analogies should not divert our attention from their serious
intent. Yang Shen was well aware of the discourse he aimed to overturn
and was not incorporating vivid metaphor just for literary effect. While
arguing for the aesthetic pleasures of the text, Yang was making a point
about who ought to participate in the highest levels of literati culture.
Yang Shen does not dispute the implication of the Classics-as-grain
metaphor which suggests that they can or should be universally consumed.
In fact it only buttresses his own argument, that the Shanhaijing is
meant to be enjoyed by a few adept connoisseurs, ju st like precious
foods are for the epicure. The social and political significance of Yang's
use of food metaphors become more vivid when considered in contrast
to those of Wang Yangming. Wang Yangming made his bid for cultural
leadership through an appeal to common sensibilities. Speaking to others
like himself, Yang Shen appeals to the literati elites whose values and
higher tastes distinguish them from the literate crowd.
In Yang Shen’s attack on the poetics of Li Mengyang we find the
same appeal to aesthetic considerations as in his comments on Confucian
learning. Sympathetic to the ideal of returning to the ancients, Yang
Shen nevertheless charged that Li Mengyang lacked the aesthetic
sensibilities and the linguistic wherewithal to do it. In a discussion of
poetry, Zhang Han says:
Men of recent times know to exalt ancient literary style, but
332
not ancient rhyme. The Hanlin academician from Xindu
[Yang Shen] told me: "To do ancient literary style and
employ modern rhyme is like using cups and plates [in
place of ritual vessels] in the temple of King Wen or [the
rustic] Zhang Y ueof Dongting [Mountain] throwing away
his reed pipe and dram and taking up the zheng, flute, and
lute. Either way it does not match.’
Yang accuses Li Mengyang and his compatriots of not being ancient

enough, of being pseudo-ancient. The charge of course implies that Li
and the rest are not merely ignoring ancient rhyme or prefer to incorporate
ancient phrases with modem rhyme. They simply are not erudite enough
to know the ancient rhyme system, familiarity with which demands a
thorough grasp of a huge corpus of ancient texts, and their linguistic
taste assures that they do not care to know the difference. Yang exposes
Li Mengyang's agenda of "returning to the ancients" as a method enabling
non-sophisticates to pretend to connoisseurship and erudition. Their
poems may look ancient, but to true connoisseurs who know the ancient
pronunciations, they do not sound ancient. His message is pot ultimately
that everyone ought to use ancient rhyme, just that those who are lacking
in literary skills should not put on airs, and would do better to abandon
their pretense and return to their simple homespun instruments. In a
preface to one of his works defining the pronunciation of rhyming
characters in ancient texts, Yang continues in a similar metaphorical
vein:
Why do we value ancient rhyme? We value [an ancient

character's] beautiful appearance and its sonorous voice.
^ h a n g Han, "Guwen yunyu houxu," in ibid., 181.
333
How could we choke it by the throat and bind its lips? It is
analogous to having ornamental cups and painted tables,
silk mats and engraved platters, but without oysters and
jellyfish, abalone and mussels.69
Aesthetic standards are once again the measurement of scholarly and

literary value. Even philology is in large measure seen by Yang in
aesthetic terms, becoming a tool to uncover the original beauty of the
word. By making it so, Yang implies that the participants in high
literati culture must have an aesthetic vision. Not dependent on social
and political privilege, or even skill in letters alone, Yang the exile can
claim discursive authority by virtue of his refined taste for the written
word.
Vulgar Words
Yang Shen's obsession with the written word, his aesthetic and
elitist sensibilities, his criticism of vulgar trends in poetry and learning,
and even his charge that Confucians were turning into Buddhists, are all
reflected in his discussions of vernacular language. As one might expect,
Yang the erudite did not exclude the vernacular as an object of his
research. For example, in a short work entitled Suyan f g g [Common
Speech], Yang recorded contemporary vernacular and dialect speech
which retained ancient meanings or shedded light on the language of the
69"Guyin lieyao xu," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba, 19. This list
of delicacies is more or less a quote from Guo Pu's "Jiangfu," and thus should be
taken "literarily." Xiao Tong, Wenxuan [Selections of Literature] (1809 rpt; Beijing:
Zhonghua shuju, 1977), 12.13-14.
334
ancients. What he strenuously objected to though, was the infiltration
of the vernacular into the elegant literary domains of poetry and Confucian
learning.
David Gardner has discussed the use of the vernacular in the
recorded conversations of Song Confucians, pointing out that it
represented a lessening of confidence in the written word and a modified
form of Chan Buddhist mind to mind transmission.70 The first point
predicts Yang's distaste for the genre. In relation to Gardner's second
point, Yang Shen claimed it was the use of the vernacular and the
recorded conversations genre themselves which Song Confucians
borrowed from Chan Buddhism. For instance, we find Yang criticizing
the use of the colloquial phrase "huopopo di (still used in
m odem speech and meaning something like "in a lively manner”) in

Cheng Yi's discussion of the Zhongyong, a phrase which Yang points
out is also found in the recorded conversations of Chan Buddhist monks.
Yang then proceeds to fault Zhu Xi for including it in his commentary
on the same text.71 Yang claims that vernacular speech should not be
used in classical commentaries or elucidations because it will confuse
later readers. Here is his rather lengthy justification in which we can
see other themes already familiar as well:
The explanation of characters in the Shuowen and the glosses

in the Erya are respectively used to elucidate the Classics
70Daniel K. Gardner, "Modes of Thinking and Modes of Discourse in the

Sung: Some Thoughts on the Yu-lu ("Recorded Conversations")" Journal o f Asian
Studies, 50 (8/91), 589,592.
71T o cite one example, "huopopo d i” can also be found in Zhuzi yulei |The
Recorded Conversations of Zhu Xi, Arranged], 8 Vols., Li Jingde, compiler (Beijing:
Zhonghua shuju, 1988), Vol. 1,134.
335
and refine our compositions. Is this not both proper and
simple? Our having the Shuowen and E rya is like the
people of the central plains having standard pronunciation.
Beyond these [central plains] are the barbarian speech of
the border regions and the market place language of
merchants. Since the Han and Tang, all elucidations of the
Classics used the Shuowen and the Erya. Not only was this
true for the elucidation of the Classics, Kumarajiva (344-
413?) also used the Shuowen and the Erya to translate Sanskrit
into Chinese. We can see that these two books can span a
hundred generations.
Beginning in the Song, monks and acolytes were vulgar
and so wrote recorded conversations. Confucians copied
the Buddhists and also wrote recorded conversations. This
was exactly like changing the standard pronunciation of the
central plains into the pronunciation of barbarians and the
language of the market place. The language of one place
cannot work in other places; the language of one time cannot
be used in later generations. Like huopo.... Today who
knows what kind of language it is? Trying to make
themselves easy to be understood, they on the contrary made
it more difficult. Wanting to illumine the Classics, they
obscured the Dao.72
For modem readers, and Yang's contemporaries, his argument against

the use of vernacular speech due to its unintelligibility beyond a
circumscribed place and time would be more convincing if huopo were
not easily recognizable. No doubt huopo was familiar to Yang Shen as
well. More to the point, it seems, recorded conversations, whether
written by Buddhists or Confucians, were vulgar simply because they
72"Huopopo di," Sheng'an ji, 45.2b-4a. Notice how boundaries between

orthodoxy and heterodoxy are redrawn according to Yang's unique point of view. A
foreign monk in effect displaces so-called Confucians in upholding the standards of
the central plain, analogous to Yang Shen defining literary standards while banished
to the frontier. The passage also brings up many other interesting issues. For
instance, to what extent is Yang commenting on the legacy of the Yuan dynasty and
the penetration of Mongolian into the Chinese vernacular?
336
were largely written in the vernacular. Barbarians were indeed not
understandable. But was this true of vendors in the market place? They
are the embodim ent of linguistic unsophistication rather than
incomprehensibility, and this is what Yang appears to actually disapprove
of.
This is confirmed in another entry by Yang entitled "The Meeting
Dram" (Yagu MM)- He writes: "The recorded conversations of Song
Confucians and the ancient literary style of today are like dancing the
Meeting Drum. People for the most part can't explain what language it
is." In philological fashion, Yang continues his discussion by explaining
the meaning of the Meeting Drum in the form of a gloss:
Commentary: Among the yuefu poetry of the men of Yuan

there is the name "Village Meeting Drum." In the music
collections of the Song there is the Official Drum. It was a
solemn drum ceremony for the officials. The character for
"official" (ya ) was changed into the character for "meeting"
(ya M) and was named Village [Meeting Dram]. The Meeting
Dram was villagers aping officials. Their costumes, songs
and steps must have been hilarious. And from this it got its
name. By saying that the recorded conversations are like
dancing the Meeting Dram, it means that without having
the learning of the ancients and yet imitating the speech of
the ancients, it's like villagers copying the dram ceremony
of the officials.73
Yang acknowledges that the recorded conversations were actually an

attempt to return to an ancient genre of Confucian discourse. After all,
the Lunyu and the Mengzi are nothing but the recorded spoken words of
Kongzi and Mengzi. So it is not the genre itself which is objectionable,
73,1Yagu," Sheng'anji, 46.3la-b.
337
but the language Song Confucians used to record their conversations.
Taking issue with a Song commentary on the Zuozhuan S H [Zuo's
Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals] written in a vernacular
style, Yang fumes: "What kind of language (wen ) are these words? It
is the chatter of the streets and the gossip of alleyways, not history.”74
Clearly incomprehensibility is not the issue, it is vulgarity. Classical
scholarship and history must be written in the elegant language of the
ancients.
Yang Shen's pronouncements on the vernacular were not an exercise
in debate with the long dead Song masters. Yang Shen's distaste for
recorded conversations also had contemporary significance since it
remained a vital genre in Ming Confucianism, the most well-known
exam ple being W ang Yangming's Chuanxi lu [Record of
Transmitted Cultivation]. In this book we find extensive use of the kind
of colloquialisms to which Yang objected, more indication that they
were commonly understood, by the way. Huopopo di, for instance, is
found in the Chuanxi lu at least three times.75 W hen Yang compared
"ancient literary style of today" with dancing the Meeting Drum, he was
of course attacking his contemporary poetry nemesis Li Mengyang who,
along with Zhu Xi, is once again revealed to be a country bumpkin
putting on airs of sophistication. Worse than Li Mengyang who clumsily
imitated the ancients perhaps, were literati who took leave of the ancients
entirely and directly incorporated the vernacular in their poetry:
74"Zaishi yiwen," ibid., 72.8a.
7SSee, for example, Chuanxi lu, part 3, 3.7b. Luo Qinshun uses the term as
well. See his Kunzhiji xu [Additional Record of Knowledge Painfully Acquired]
(Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1990), 1.36.
338
Continuing his discussion of huopopo di, Yang says:
The worst offenders seized onto "simplicity" because of

their own vulgarity and put "do a flip" (daguai jin d o u ) into
a p o e m s a y i n g , "I'm just carrying out the theory o f Cheng
Yi and Zhu Xi: when speaking about Dao and principle, it's
enough that your words arrive [at the meaning], so there is
no effort at craft." Ai, this is contemptible!76
Yang condemns literati like Chen Xianzhang. Elsewhere Yang scolds
Chen specifically for using daguai jindou and other colloquialisms in

his poetry, and again connects it to Chan Buddhist recorded conversations,
terming his verse "the language of scolding the Buddha and cursing the
patriarch... verses from the Chuandeng lu [Transmission of the
Lamps], not poetry.”77
Chen Xianzhang's poetic style was derived from his belief that
the poetic utterance should be devoid of craft, spontaneously issuing
from the mind. For Yang Shen, a poetics claiming its source as the
inspiration of the poet had to be condemned lest it justify the abandonment
of ancient linguistic standards and the influx of vulgar language:
76"Huopopo di," 45.4a. Daguai jindou would also be familiar to aficionados

of the Ming vernacular novel Shuihu zhuan.
’’"Chen Baisha zhi shi," Sheng'an ji, 55.24a-b. Chen Xianzhang also used
huopo in his poetry. See Chen Xianzhang j i [The Collected Works of Chen Xianzhang]
(Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1987), 278. For Yang Shen's criticism o f Chen's views
on the Dao, Classics, and written language, see his "Yuanfei yuyue," Sheng'an ji,
45.2a-b. Yang could have pointed out as well that Zhu Xi used the variant dage
jindou in his recorded sayings. Qian Zhongshu takes issue with Yang's assertion.
According to Qian, the style of the poetry in the Lamps is different from that o f
Chen Xianzhang and his friend Zhang Chuang. For although the lamps incorporate
coarse language, they are nevertheless difficult to understand, while Chen and Zhang's
poetry is easily accessable. See Qian's "Fushuo" no. 17,Tanyi lu [Record of
Conversations on Art] (Taibei: Kaiming shudian, 1960), 277. Cited in Huang Guilan,
Baisha xueshuo j i qi shi zhi yanjiu [A Study of the Thought and Poetry of Chen
Xianzhang] (Taibei, Wenshizhe chubanshe, 1981), 114.
339
If there is no [ancient] source, then the chatter of the streets,
the gossip of alleyways, two drunks in an argument, an old
hag scolding her chickens, all this is poetry. And what
need is there then to read books? Once this argument was
made, village pedants followed and enlarged upon it saying,
"The marvelous phrases of the poets are nothing but the
common expressions of daily life." Ai! In the Shijing-the
subtlety of the guofeng , the indirectness of the ya, and the
simple profundity of the song - is this common language
and daily speech?!78
On the issue of poetic source, Yang Shen finds himself at odds with the
man who was in many ways his Song dynasty counterpart, the exile
poet Su Shi. It was Su Shi who said, "Everyday words, the language of
the streets-all can be used in poetry.”79 Yang of course is not referring
to Su Shi when he talks about the village pedant. Chen Xianzhang
could be him. As we know Chen made apoint of remaining in the small
town of Baisha in Guangdong.
The analogies of the country villager and the commoner in the
street reveal Yang's concern with elite control over Confucian discourse
and poetry through the monopoly of ancient language. From Yang
Shen's point of view it was this lack of discrimination between the
elegant and the vulgar that threatened high literati culture. It invited the
invasion of the language of the streets into the pristine domiciles of the
ancients. Even worse, it gave coarse literati of little ability and common
tastes the sanction to write poetry and discourse on the ancients. They
78"Songren lunshi," Sheng'an ji, 54.6b-7a.
79Cited in Gardner, "Modes of Thinking and Modes o f Discourse in the

Sung," 597.
340
could even claim cultural superiority given the "genuine" source of their
unmediated expression. Perhaps this is why Yang put so much emphasis
on philology. The imposition of ancient linguistic standards made
Confucian learning and poetry much less vulnerable to the threat from
unlettered literati. In addition, by treating the written character as an
aesthetic object and thereby proritizing the rare and esoteric, Yang Shen
endeavored to place it even farther out of reach of those literati who
lacked the lifetime of cultural refinement necessary to cultivate elite
tastes.
Strange Words
Zhang Han, the one man who may have known Yang Shen best,
summed him up this way:
W en Zhongzi said: "Kongzi had a great love; what he

loved was the Dao. Sima Qian had a great love; what he
loved was the strange (qi ff)." He implies that the Dao has
always been strange. How can one thoughtlessly say that
what is strange is not the Dao? My friend, the Hanlin
academician Yang Shen, is the Sima Qian of today.80
Yang's interests in both scholarship and poetry gravitated toward what

he and others termed qi, a term meaning "uncommon," "marvelous,"
"weird," or as I have tried to capture it, "strange." It is a word that could
have positive or negative connotations, depending on the context. In
80Zhang Han, "Shihua buyi xu," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba,
111.
341
Confucian discourse, as suggested in the statement by Zhang Han above,
qi had largely negative implications. 0 was reserved for oddities or
trifles, not the great Confucian enterprise. As an aesthetic term applied
to poetry (a trifling enterprise for certain Confucians), however, it was
quite positive.
In his poetry Yang strove to impart freshness, to surprise the
reader, and the use of novel words and phrases helped to accomplish
this. More importantly, accomplishing the strange in poetic language is
what distinguished his poetry from the common and vulgar. In descriptions
of Yang's work, the word "strange" comes up again and again. In the
most concise summation of Yang's works I have come across, Li Tiaoyuan
^ M tg (1743-1803) calls them "strange, beautiful, profound, and
elegant.”81 In Yang Shen's discussions of poetry, and especially in his
descriptions of verse he favors, we find his laudatory remarks converging
on praises of skill, the ancient, and the strange. Extolling the poetry of
Zhang Han, Yang remarks that as he grew older, Zhang expended great
effort reading widely and mastering the ancients, and his "poetry became
increasingly skilled (gong) and his writing increasingly strange.”82 It
was precisely this strange quality which could not be captured through
common expression and spontaneous emotional utterance and necessitated
mastery of the rarified language of the ancients.
Yang's concern that poetic composition be both strange and skilled
is demonstrated in a variety of rhyming dictionaries which he edited.
81Li Tiaoyuan, "Sheng'an zhushu zongmu xu," in Wang Wencai, Yang Shen
xuepu, p. 465.
82"Zhang Yuguang shiwen xuan xu," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu

xuba, 280.
342
Zhejiang jin fu [A Collection of Selected Stanzas Arranged
According to Rhyme] is described by Li Tiaoyuan as selections of the
"beautiful" an d "strange" from the Classics, histories, and literary
com pilations throughout the ages83 which provided the would-be
poet/scholar easy access to materials necessary for superior versification.
Similarly, Li writes that another of Yang's dictionaries, Junzao [Rhyming
W ords], is filled with "strange language and resplendent phrases.”84
The title of another of Yang's dictionaries, Qizi yun ^ f ^ f t [Rhyming
Dictionary of Strange Characters], speaks for itself.
When applied to learning, the term qi takes on different connotations
because it is used to describe things and events, not just turns of a
phrase. In this context, the boundary line between the ancient or rare
and the strange or fantastic was fine indeed. For Yang Shen and many
others, it was often indistinguishable. A contemporary of Yang Shen
who served with him at the capital, Lu Shen (1457-1544), wrote a
book entitled Guqi qilu [Record of Curious Ancient Vessels],
"a collection of miracle tales about extraordinary happenings associated
with numinous ancient objects.”85 Lying som ewhere in between
archeology and chuanqi tales, the book embodied the difficulty Ming
literati had differentiating the ancient from the strange, especially when
we consider that it was listed in bibliographies along with books devoted
exclusively to antique objects, bronzes, and the like. Lin Qingzhang, in
“ Li Tiaoyuan, "Tongshan wenji xu," in Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu,

290
^Li Tiaoyuan, "Junzao xu," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba, 247.
“ Craig Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial Culture and Social Status in

Early Modern China (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1991), 13.
343
his otherwise laudatory description of Yang Shen, argues that his fondness
for rarities was emblematic of the great weakness of Ming evidential
research as it led to unfocused erudition and degenerated into showing
off oddities.86 Lin's point also echoes Wang Wencai who at one point
explains Yang Shen's penchant for forging ancient texts by his being
"overly fond of the strange.”87 The love of strange things on the part of
evidential scholars like Yang Shen was manifested in two ways, according
to Lin. They edited collections of strange characters.88 Yang Shen's
Qizi yun is one example. And they investigated odd occurrences or
unusual books. This is the category under which Lu Shen's book would
fall. Examples of Yang's works in this category mentioned by Lin are
his Yiyutu zan H JlfliSt [Encomium to the Diagram of Strange Fish] and
Xixing lu # ^ 3
$! [Record of Rare Family Names]. Lin Qingzhang's
point that interest in the strange was associated with evidential research
in the Ming is a valuable insight worthy of further exploration. In
Yang's case, it may be profitable to consider that his interest in the
strange was an integral part of his scholarly agenda, not just a regrettable
departure from his more serious pursuits.
Confucian learning prior to the Ming often encouraged blurring
the distinction between the realistic and the fantastic. The Classics and
histories are dotted with uncommon occurrences, reflecting the Chinese
“ Lin Qingzhang, Mingdai kaojuxue yanjiu, 33.
87Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu, 219.
88Yang Shen likely considered the research of strange characters to be a

legitimate concern of the philologist. According to Ban Gu, strange characters (qizi)
form one of the six styles ( liuti) of script. Honshu yiwenzhii [Bibliographical Section
o f the Han History] (Hong Kong: Taiping shuju, 1963), 18.
344
organic conception of the world and a belief that unusual alterations in
the patterns of heaven and earth significantly impact on the affairs of
man. The appearance of strange animals was considered to be particularly
meaningful. The madman of Chu in the Lunyu sings of the mythical
"phoenix" (feng), a bird whose appearance, we are told by Confucian
commentators, coincides with the emergence of the Dao.89 The last line
in the Chunqiu describes the capture of a lin, a fabulous beast interpreted
by Kongzi as heralding the arrival of an enlightened king. What these
animals in fact were or what they looked like are not detailed in the
Classics, but later descriptions of the creatures emphasize the fantastic,
for it is exactly this characteristic that qualified them as such significant
portents. The Shuowen jiezi describes the phoenix as half goose (the
front portion) and half lin, with a snake neck and a fish tail.90 The
investigation of natural oddities, then, was to some extent sanctioned by
the orthodox classical tradition. During the Jiajing reign, interest in
portents was particularly high. They played an important role in the
Great Ritual Controversy and interest in auspicious animals was later
stimulated by the emperor's Daoist beliefs and the desire on the part of
sycophant officials to present evidence to the throne of his enlightened
rule.91
On the margins of Confucian classical discourse there had long
appeared a number of works detailing the strange and fanciful not
mLunyu, 18.5. See Zhu Xi's commentary in "Lunyu zhangju jizhu," Sishu
wujing songyuanren zhu, Vol. 1,77-78.
^Xu Shen, Shuowen jiezi [Analysis of Characters and Explanations of their

Parts] (1873; rpt, Hong Kong: Zhonghua shuju, 1972), 4a. 18.
’‘Unfortunately for the Jiajing emperor, a lin was never discovered, only
white rabbits and deer.
345
sanctioned by the sages. Chief among them perhaps was the Shanhaijing,
ascribed by its Han dynasty editor, Liu Xin gijffc (53 B.C.-A.D. 23), to
Bo Yi who is said to have helped Yu the Great control the flood. By
calling the book a "Classic" and tying it to Yu the Great, Liu was
attempting to give it legitimacy. When he presented it to the throne he
pointed out that literary Confucians could also use it in the practical
study of portents.92 Nevertheless, scholars of the strange remained
conscious of the stigma attached to such marginal texts. Guo Pu fflii
(276-324), in his commentary on the Shanhaijing, defends his work by
refusing to admit the odd people and animals it chronicles are at all
strange. After all, he argues, what is strange is a function of what one is
accustomed to, and there are many strange things which we consider
normal. But Guo Pu has another, more powerful argument for his
commentary:
The names and locations of many mountains and streams

are in error and are different from today. The glosses of
[past] teachers have not been transmitted and thereupon
that in which the Dao is preserved has disappeared.93
Guo Pu, the textual scholar, defended his investigation of the strange by
evoking the status of the name and describing his enterprise in terms of
the orthodox Confucian agenda of matching words and things, an
enterprise, he points out, pursuing nothing less than the resurrection of
the Dao.
^See Liu Xin, "Shang Shanhaijing zou," Baizi quanshu (Zhejiang renmin
chubanshe, 1991), Vol. 7.
^Guo P u ,"Shanhaijing xu," in ibid.
346
Guo Pu's work is particularly relevant to Yang Shen. Yang exhibited
a scholarly bent similar to Guo Pu's, also writing a commentary on the
Shanhaijing,94 Like Guo Pu as well, Yang was fond of combining
scholarship and poetry and imitated the style of Guo Pu's Shanhaijing
tuzan [Encomium to the Diagrams in the Classic of Mountains
and Seas] when he wrote his own Yiyutu zan . In his preface to the
book, Yang explains his motivations, echoing Guo Pu's concern with
rectifying names: "A chronicler of paintings from Xizhou95recorded
the Yiyutu S&B1 [Diagram of Strange Fish] from the Southern Dynasties
and expanded upon it. Reading it I found many of the names mistaken
and the writing inelegant.”96 Yang's concerns, as he states them here,
have nothing to do with the strange fish which inhabit the book, but are
exclusively literary. Yang approaches the work primarily as a philologist
investigating the word. In a similar book, Yuming gu [Explanations
of the Names of Jade] we see again Yang's primary interest. "Written
characters must have things [to which they refer]; things must have
meaning,”97says Yang, underscoring his concern with words, not jade.
As Yang says here, he begins with the word, not the thing, and by
its very existence the word has meaning which demands clarification.
Yang's focus on the written character rather than the thing it represents
is highlighted in the very first line of his Yiyutu zan. Paraphrasing the
^Yang claims an orthodox origin for the Shanhaijing, saying it is the

inscriptions o f the lost nine tripods o f Yu the Great. "Ba S h a n h a ijin g in Wang
Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba, 39.
9SIn an area occupied by present-day Nanjing during the Northern and Southern
Dynasties.
^"Yiyutu zan yin," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba, 98.
^Quoted in Li Tiaoyuan, "Yuming guxu," Hanhai (1825), Vol. 22.
347
Shuowen jiezi, Yang writes: "The written character for ‘fish’ (yu is
sim ilar to a swallow's tail.”98 Yang's overwhelmingly linguistic
orientation is exposed when we discover that he has inadvertently
misquoted the Shuowen. The original line in the Shuowen reads: "the
tail of a fish is similar to the tail of a swallow”99 in which “fish"
unambiguously refers to the animal, not the written character.

In Yang's descriptions of various fish then, Ms attention to the
name supersedes discussion of the physical animal. His only comment
on the daixinq fish (daixingyu, literally "star-wearing fish”), for instance,
is that it has a star-shaped pattern on its back.100 That is, Yang's interest
in the fish itself doesn’t go beyond the characteristics that give it its
name. We find Yang's interest in epigraphy and phonology foregrounded
in several selections in the text. For example, the gong fish (gongyu):
"In the W est River there is the gong ^ fish, three inches long / Who
wrote it as gong &? The sound is right, but the character's wrong.”101
And the ji fish (jiyu iPiO, whose pronunciation has made it confused
with another fish whose name is also pronounced ji, but whose written
character is quite different.102At other times we find Yang's pMlological
concerns and fanciful myth enunciated in the same breath. For instance,
tMs is Yang's entry on the "shen" Jg, a type of clam:
^"Zongzan," Yiyutu zan [Encomium to the Diagram of Strange Fish], Hanhai,

Li Tiaoyuan, comp., Vol. 2 2 , 1.1a.
99Shuowen jiezi, llb .8 .

looYiyutu zan, 3.1b-2a.
101Ibid., 1.5b.
102Ibid., 3.5a-b.
348
A pheasant transforms into a shen, its ethers form towers
above the sea / Fashioning its shell to make a hoe, this
began in the time of Tai and J i 103 / "Farming" (nong Jg) and
"hoe" ( nou H ) come from M, and this is the characters'
ancestry.104
The veracity of the assertions in the first line is not questioned by Yang.
For him it is not relevant whether or not pheasants in reality fly into the
sea and metamorphose into clams. Since Yang's interests are primarily
literary and linguistic, he is not so much concerned with the organic
origins of shen as he is with its literary heritage. From this perspective,
although the shen may appear to be quite strange, its literary credentials
are beyond dispute according to Yang, for it appears in two ancient
sources. The myth about the pheasant turning into a clam is listed under
"shen" in the Shuowen,105 and the one about clams being responsible for
seaside mirages is recorded in the Shiji.106 In any case Yang's own
discovery that the character shen reveals the etymological origins of the
characters for "farming" and "hoe" is his main point and makes up the
bulk of his commentary. We can see that the linguistic relevance of
shen is quite independent of the questionable fables which surround it.
In another example, we find that Yang's commentary on the Shanhaijing
‘“ Ministers of Agriculture under Shun and the Yellow Emperor, respectively.
i04Yiyutu zan, 4.5a-b.
wsShuowen jiezi, 13a.21.
l06Shiji, 27.1338. In Yang Shen's day the belief persisted that shen clams
produced coastal mists which could range from white fog to dense black clouds and
form fanciful shapes. See Qu Dajun, "Shenqi," Guangdong xinyu [New Accounts
from Guangdong] (1680 photo rpt.; Taibei: Xuesheng shuju, 1968), 22.3b-5a. This
belief is preserved in the modem Chinese word for mirage: haishi shenlou (literally,
"sea cities and shen towers").
349
often treats the text as if it were a epigraphical dictionary rather than a
geographical guide through the fantastic. His first entry is a gloss of
"Que Mountain" (Queshan Hill): "Old editions h a v e |£ . Recent editions
have changed it into §§. Ancient characters like this ought to be retained.
How deep the ignorance of people of today!”107

Fantastic landscapes and animals may or may not exist. They
were, however, represented in the textual tradition by written characters
whose value were defined by their ancient origins and status as a written
word, not by the reality of the things they represented. For the philologist,
meditation on the written character dissolved the borders between the
sober and the fantastic, in the same manner as we saw devotion to the
word erased the boundary between orthodoxy and heterodoxy in Yang's
treatment of the Cantongqi. The results can be surprising and rewarding,
for instance, that the word for agriculture finds its origins in the name
for a very strange clam. Their objective philological value aside, these
strange words also added to Yang Shen's discursive authority. W hile
Wang Yangming wanted to use only the words everyone recognized and
understood, Yang Shen made a point of ferreting out the most obscure
words by which even learned men were confounded.
Despite the intense Ming interest in rarities to which Lin Qingzhang
alludes, we should not assume that this sort of activity escaped censure
until the onset of the more conservative Qing. A late Ming figure, Hu
Shian &]#§£ [1628 j.s.], wrote a commentary on Yang's Yiyutu zan
(1630). Even during the late Ming this kind of work was evidently
considered suspect, as we find Hu Shian going to great lengths to justify
im”Shanhaijing buzhu," Baizi quanshu, Vol. 7, la.
350
the work. He attempts to do this by arguing that fish, "those scaly
creatures inhabiting the lair of the green dragon," hold an exalted position
in the animal world. Resorting to Liu Xin's argument justifying the
Shanhaijing, Hu reminds us of the lines from the Shijing: "A great man
prognosticated [the dream of the herdsman]: ‘A multitude catching fish,
there will certainly be a plentiful harvest.’”108 "Is it not the case," he
asks, "that portents of the magnanimous and benevolent qi of heaven
and earth are first seen in the depths?” 109 Hu Shian does not reveal
precisely what the criticism of the work was. In his own postscript to
the Yiyutu zan, however, Yang Shen tells us the criticism he received,
and therefore why he wrote the postscript to defend himself. Yang
quotes an anonymous accuser who quoted Han Yu's criticism of the
Erya to the effect that writing commentaries on fish and insects is not an
occupation befitting a moral man. I think that this position was probably
shared by many literati, especially those sym pathetic with W ang
Yangming's philosophy which of course frowned upon superfluous literary
activity. Yang of course has a clever response. He points out that
Kongzi advocated knowing the names of plants and animals in order to
write poetry and that fish and insects were certainly included. "Was
Kongzi not a moral man?" Yang asks rhetorically.110 M irroring his
scholarship, Yang's successful rebuttal hinges on diverting attention from
the thing to the name.
A fact worthy of our attention is that Yang Shen's and Hu Shian's
10SMaoshi zhengyi, Shisanjing zhushu, 11.170c.
109Hu Shian, "Yiyu tu zan jian xu," in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba,
104-5.
,10"Yiyu tu zan ba," Hanhai, Vol. 22.
351
responses share a failure to invoke the officially sanctioned "investigation
of things." We may ask why, especially since some have suggested that
this doctrine may have provided impetus for evidential research or
investigation of the natural world. Without going into great detail, the
doctrine of the "investigation of things" according to Zhu Xi meant
investigating the moral principles of things and according to W ang
Yangming it meant morally rectifying affairs. According to their
interpretations, the "investigation of things" does not appear to sanction
the study of either strange fish or their strange names. This was not
exactly why Yang Shen avoided invoking the "investigation of things,"
however, as he, predictably, disagreed with both Zhu Xi's and Wang
Yangming's interpretations. Yang derived his interpretation of the
"investigation of things" from the etymology of the character "investigate"
(ge te):
The meaning of the character ge $§ comes from "wood"

(mu 7fc). The sound comes from ge # . In common speech
we have "door frame" (menge and "window frame"
(chuangge if$ |, liangge These are all [examples of
ge]. Ge means "separation" (ge pg). If you cover a
frame (ge with silk, then the light is not obstructed but
the dust cannot enter. Alas, so many external things have
contaminated my mind! Sights (se fe, also meaning "sex”),
sounds, scents, and flavors all contaminate the mind.111
Yang Shen claims "investigation of things" m eans "separation from

things," so we can understand why he did not use the doctrine to justify
his interests in fish and philology. Given Yang Shen's sensibilities as a
in"Gewu shuo," Sheng'an j i , 5.15b.
352
connoisseur, we wouldn't expect "separation from things" to play an
important role in his thinking, and indeed, he never mentions ii outside
of this context. Once again Yang's purpose is to point out the lack of
linguistic knowledge on the part of Zhu Xi and Wang Yangming. Further
on in Ms discussion though, Yang modifies the metaphor of the silk-
covered window frame, saying it lets in the elegant and correct, and
screens out the vulgar and improper. This is more in keeping with
Yang's own attitudes as we know them. What remains perplexing is
Yang's lament that his mind has been contaminated by external things.
While in exile did Yang Shen's appetite lead him beyond literary feasts
to indulge in the "vulgar" and "improper”?
A number of reports suggest that Yang Shen's personal behavior
often did not match the decorum of a Confucian gentleman. Wang
SMzhen (1526-90) notes that while in exile Yang Shen suffered
from the "craving of the recluse" (dongshan zhi pi), that is, he was
overly fond of sex.112 Local aboriginal cMefs took advantage of this,
W ang says, and would send liquor and women to Yang's house in order
to obtain specimens of his poetry. Drink was also one of Yang's
weaknesses according to Wang Shizhen. Wang claims that one time
Yang Shen, drunk, his face covered with powder and his hair in pigtails,
was carried through the town by his students as he unashamedly held
aloft his wine goblet.113 Evidently stories about Yang Shen's indecent
behavior were widely repeated.114 There even appeared a play, Zanhua
m Wang Shizhen, Yiyuan zhiyan, quoted in Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu,
113-4. This was not the result of sexual deprivation. While in exile, Yang Shen
married his second and third wives.
1,3 Ibid.
353
ji [Hair Adorned with Flowers] which celebrated Yang's eccentric
behavior. Liu Songyang, the prefect of Chongqing to whom Yang sent
the letter detailing his critique of literati culture, sent a letter to Yang
mentioning his alleged activities. Liu said in his letter that it couldn't
possibly be the case that a man who put so much energy into investigating
the ancients could be spending his spirit in sensual excess.115 An indication
that the stories about Yang were true are the number of apologist
explanations for his behavior. One explanation is that the bitterness of
exile forced Yang to seek temporary solace in a few delights. Another
one is that throughout his exile the Jiajing emperor solicited reports
about Yang from his ministers in order to find some pretext to harm
him. When Yang supposedly heard about this, he consciously made it
appear like he had lost all self-control.116
No matter what Yang Shen's motivations may have been, taken as
a whole the stories about his dissipation are at least convincing evidence
that Yang Shen was not a moralist. Yang's culpability in this area is
also suggested by his sensitivity to criticism that a moral man would not
give so much attention to strange fish.117 This conclusion is evident
from his scholarship as well as his life. Compared to Wang Yangming,
114In his discussion of Yang Shen's alleged copying of Du Yicheng's version

o f the Cantongqi, Xu Wei refers to Yang derisively as "powder face." Xu W ei, Xu
W eiji [Collected Works of Xu Wei] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1983), 16.475.
nsIn Wang Wencai, Yang Shen xuepu, 112.

U7Yang Shen's degree o f sensitivity may be gauged by the fact that he felt
compelled to write a postscript in addition to the preface he had already written.
Yang did this on only one other occasion, for his Guyin lieyao [Essential of Ancient
Rhyme].
354
and the majority of literati of his day, Yang Shen was far less concerned
with self-cultivation, and as we know he had a strikingly amoral definition
of Dao. Given that Wang Yangming’s position on morality and the
common man and Yang's interest in distinguishing himself from both
Wang and the crowd, we may wonder how much Yang's life-style may
have been purposeful nonconformity whose improprieties, like his forgery,
only accentuated his particular genius.
There is another, I think more cogent, factor informing both Yang's
fascination with the strange and lack of regard for Confucian norms. In
Yang's life and throughout his work we can see the sensibilities of the
poet intruding into the propriety of the Confucian scholar. In his postscript
to the Yiyutu zan, Yang Shen eludes the issue of morality in typical
fashion by switching the topic to literature, where from his point of
view judgem ents are properly governed by aesthetic, not moral
considerations. Not just a rhetorical turn, it represents Yang's approach
to scholarship as a literary and linguistic connoisseur, as well as his
vehement rejection of morality as a criterion for evaluating literature.
Comparing "Zhao hun" [Summons of the Soul] to "Da zhao”
[The Great Summons], two poems in the Chuci S l f [Songs of the

South], Yang praises the former for its beautiful and refined language
while proclaiming the latter inferior literature. In contrast, Yang points
out, Zhu Xi favored "Da zhao" because according to him it was "simple
and unadorned without the shallow beauty commonly affected by poets,
and approaches the Confucian learning of exhausting moral principles."

Yang claims that Zhu Xi's actual criterion forjudging the poem in this
manner is the fact that it praises the Three Kings and previous worthies,118
355
an inclusion which causes Yang to regard the poem as inferior. After
all, anyone can write a line in praise of the sages, but writing a beautiful
poem is another matter:
If we only accept [poetry that] exhausts moral principles

and rejects beautiful language, then any child today who
can write the characters "benevolence," "righteousness,"
"ritual," and "wisdom" or copy the theories of morality,
nature and decree can surpass the poetry of Sima Xiangru
and Li Bai.119
Yang rejects both Zhu Xi's poetics and his taste. Ridiculing the dictum
"the Dao is the root of literature," he suggests that it only leads to bad
poetry. The only standard by which one can judge literature, according
to Yang, is "beauty" (mei Jt).120
From the point of view of Yang Shen's linguistic connoisseurship,
all literary endeavor, poetry as well as scholarship, was governed by
aesthetic, not moral considerations. The beautiful and the strange were
largely synonymous, both proper epithets for superior poetry, rare books,
and the ancient characters which were the objects of his cultivated
affection. They were also the characteristics which distinguished elite
cultural forms from the vulgar and common. This was an aesthetic
judgment, to be sure. Poetry and scholarship serving the didactic function
118"The Great Summons" ends with the line "Revive the ways of the Three
Kings o f old!" In David Hawkes, trans., The Songs o f the South (Middlesex:
Penguin Books, 1985), 238.
U9"Da zhao," Sheng'an j i , 47.19a-b. By disagreeing with Zhu Xi's favoring

"Da zhao" over "Zhao hun," Yang Shen was following Yan Yu. Yan Yu, however,
did not say anything beyond the fact that Zhu Xi was incorrect. See Yan Yu,
"Shiping," Canglang shihua (Taibei: Jinfeng chubanshe, 1986), 93.
120,1Lun wen," Sheng'an j i , 52.1a.
356
o f expressing a moral foundation naturally slighted aesthetic concerns,
especially in a cultural climate where literature was suspected of easily
devolving into spiritually sapping frivolity. Aesthetic poverty was not
ultimately the reason why morality had to be rejected by Yang as a
literary criterion, however. Moral authority, especially when defined so
as to be readily accessible to all, was so easy to claim that it opened the
flood gates to elite culture, allowing minor literary talents, and even
those who questioned the value of the word entirely, to be cultural
players. Reasserting the value of the word was the first step in pushing
back the flood. The second was subjecting the word to aesthetic criterion
which had the effect of opening up a vast textual vista and simultaneously
severely limiting the number of people qualified to appreciate it. In this
regard, the link between the aesthetic and the ancient was crucial. For if
the beauty of the word could only be appreciated from the knowledge of
its ancient source, structure, pronunciation, and so on, then the aesthete
also had to be a philologist. Whatever its ultimate use, philological skill
was extremely difficult to master and so provided the adept practitioner
a claim to textual authority which could not be feigned or usurped. In
Yang Shen's hands then, philological learning resembled less a tool for
peering over the palace walls of the ancients than a construction imitating
that which was the subject of its admiration. The walls of philological
learning were high and thick, admitting few indeed.
While it may be true that Yang Shen pioneered Ming evidential
learning and directly influenced later practitioners, shared vocabulary
and methodology should not blind us to the imprint of personal metaphor.
This can be a key to contextualizing discourse in personal biography
357
and the larger cultural milieu, from which enunciation of a discourse is
endowed with meaning. Having made the case for Yang Shen's unique
perspective, however, I do not wish to diminish his importance as a
participant in larger cultural trends. On the contrary, this reappraisal of
Yang Shen can highlight new patterns in the development of literati
culture in the Ming dynasty, especially a new literati fascination with
connoisseurship.
358
Chapter Six
The Center is Empty: Local Power, Cultural Competition and
the Maintenance of Elite Identity in the Late Ming
Decline of the C enter
The Great Ritual Controversy marked a decisive turning point in

Ming dynasty political culture. The attack on the central bureaucracy
on the part of politically marginalized literati was an initial blow in a
protracted straggle against the hegemony of the political center and
marked the beginning of its decline. Except for a brief interlude during
the regime of Zhang Juzheng U g lE (1525-1582), the political center in
the late Ming became increasingly unable to control the empire. The
most obvious manifestations of the loss of power of the political center
was its increasing inability to defend the borders and control internal
fiscal resources. Control over northern border garrisons began to
deteriorate badly during the Jiajing reign. In 1524, the same year Yang
Tinghe's faction was purged, soldiers in Datong mutinied and killed
their commanders. In 1550, a succession of border crises culminated in
another siege of Beijing by the Mongols. Unlike the situation in the
wake of the Tumu defeat when the besieging Mongols were met by an
intimidating array of Chinese forces guarding the gates to the capital, in
1550 the authorities could do nothing but watch from behind the city
gates until the Mongols voluntarily withdrew after ransacking the
suburbs.1 Added to the precarious situation on the northern border,
359
Japanese pirates attacked great stretches of the Chinese coast with impunity
and a Japanese invasion of Korea under General Toyotomi Hideyoshi
(1536-98) was only stopped after great expenditure. Military costs on
the northern border increased almost eight-fold during the Jiajing reign
period, and yet the government was unable to raise new revenue.2 Not
only unable to raise more revenue, the imperial fiscal administration
was in fact steadily losing control over revenue as taxable land at a local
level was removed from the registers with seeming impunity.3 Periodic
rebellions, bandit uprisings, natural disasters and epidemics throughout
the em pire only exacerbated the situation. Even the successful
administration of Grand Secretary Zhang Juzheng had little positive
impact on underlying institutional weaknesses. Zhang was indeed able
to patch up the fiscal crisis of the empire, but he did so only by reducing
government expenditures, not increasing revenue. His attempts to increase
revenue by regaining central control over the tax base and spearheaded
by a new land survey ordered in 1580, were unsuccessful.4 The
dispatching of eunuch tax collectors and mining ietendants in the 1590's
was symptomatic of a government again in fiscal crisis, unable to raise
sufficient revenue without resorting to extraordinary means of taxation.
The successful blocking of the 1580 land survey and the recall of eunuch
‘Frederick W. Mote and Denis Twitchett, eds.The Cam bridge H istory o f

China Vol. 7: The Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), Part 1 (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1988), Vol. 7,475.
2Ray Huang, "Fiscal Administration During the Ming Dynasty," in Charles

O. Hucker, ed., Chinese Government in Ming Times: Seven Studies. (New York:
Columbia University Press), 1969,11-114.
3Cambridge History o f China, Vol. 7, 510. See also Ray Huang, "Fiscal
Administration During the Ming Dynasty," 114.
Ibid., 86.
360
intendants were victories for local landed interests whose increasing
ability to retain local revenue from the central government marked a
dramatic shift in the balance of economic power.
The deterioration of central power was exacerbated by emperors
unwilling to actively take part in government. The Jiajing emperor's
enthusiasm for politics, engendered by a curious blend of filial piety,
superstition, and megalomania, appeared confined to rituals. He was
suspicious of his officials whom he felt acted in conspiratorial fashion,
and often against him. Several unsuccessful murder plots increased his
suspicion that he was surrounded by enemies. In 1534 he discontinued
attending routine court audiences. During his last three decades he
became obsessed with the pursuit of immortality through drugs, rituals,
and esoteric physical regimens.5 His grandson, the Wanli MM emperor
(r. 1573-1620), was initially dominated by Grand Secretary Zhang
Juzheng, but soon after his death refused to have anything to do with the
government of the empire and even appeared to sabotage its worldngs
by refusing to appoint officials to long-vacant positions. The emperor
was only interested in satiating his personal desires and, significantly as
we shall see, became a hoarder of worldly goods.6
Although there were no institutional changes, in general grand
secretaries after the Great Ritual Controversy wielded much less absolute
power than their predecessors. Certainly the prestige of the Grand
Secretariat was shaken when it became apparent that the most powerful
and respected men of the empire could in such a manner be displaced by
sCambridge History o f China, Vol. 7,465.

‘Ibid., 515.
361
minor officials. In addition, the post-Great Ritual Controversy Grand
Secretariat became the scene of intense political in-fighting, compounded
by a suspicious emperor who made it clear that grand secretaries served
only at his pleasure. After they were appointed to the grand secretariat,
animosities developed between Zhang Cong and Gui E and the old
guard represented by Senior Grand Secretary Fei Hong W H (1468-1535),
whom they were finally able to force from office. The struggle with the
next senior grand secretary, Yang Yiqing, was even more vehement, and
severe accusations were traded by both sides. Zhang and Gui were
dismissed in 1529. Subsequently, Yang Yiqing was forced out for
making false allegations and Zhang and Gui were returned, though they
did not last long after that. The next senior grand secretary, Xia Yan M
s (1482-1548) was dismissed by the emperor in 1542, it seems largely
because he refused to indulge the emperor's fascination with Daoist
ritual.7 He was recalled to office in 1545, but was executed on orders
of the emperor in 1548. His enemy and successor Yan Song
(1480-1565) managed to remain senior grand secretary from 1549 to
1562 because "he made certain that his colleagues lacked influence, and
he deferred to the emperor's wishes in even the most trivial m atters."8
Yan was finally forced from office thanks to the covert efforts of Grand
Secretary Xu lie (1503-1583). Later he was reduced to commoner
status and the Yan family property was confiscated. Xu Jie was forced
from office due to the combined efforts of Gao Gong (1512-1578),
Zhang Juzheng, and their eunuch allies. Zhang was later able to dispose
7Ibid., 482.
% id., 484.
362
of his erstwhile ally Gao. Zhang's career also ended in posthumous
disgrace. Zhang was succeeded by weak men, leading eventually to
another rule of terror by the eunuch Wei Zhongxian (1568-1627).
This brief overview of the grand secretariat is suggestive of the situation
in the bureaucracy as a whole, and explains why literati increasingly
came to look down on government service and either leave government
or just never attempt to serve in the first place. Government service no
longer played the same role as a bench mark of prestige, and the court
served less and less as a source of elite values.
As senior grand secretary, Zhang Juzheng was able to dominate
the young Wanli emperor and bring the bureaucracy under his personal
control. Despite being the model authoritarian grand secretary, it is
important to point out why Zhang's administration in some ways hastened
the decline of the power of the central government vis-a-vis local elites.
In short, Zhang Juzheng gave local elites a convenient political and
moral target so they could further broaden a consensus already based on
shared local economic interest into a shared political and moral vision.
Mizoguchi Yuzo has made it clear that we would be mistaken if we
characterized the Donglin partisans as merely a group of moralists united
in removing corruption at court. According to Mizoguchi, the partisans
were in large part represented by members of the landlord class whose
aim was the promotion of their own local power at the expense of
central imperial control.9 Thus an efficient central administration under
Zhang Juzheng which also strove to reassert control over local land
registers was a serious threat. Fortunately for the Donglin partisans,
9Mizoguchi Yuzo, Chugoku zenkindai shisoteki enhen [The Evolution of

Chinese Pre-Modem Thought] (Xinzhu: Guoli qinghua daxue, 1992), 219 ff.
363
Zhang Juzheng was vulnerable to accusations of moral turpitude—
historically the Achilles heel of the grand secretariat-and thus provided
legitimate cause for protest against his rule and added to the perception
that the center had less and less right to decide the interests of the
people in local areas.
When Zhang Juzheng was "excused" from fulfilling the mourning
period for his deceased father, it evoked a fire-storm of protest. And
although Zhang managed to remain in power, the scale of dissent alone
is an indication of the deterioration of the traditional power of the grand
secretariat. W e only have to contrast this mass outrage to Luo Lun's
solitary criticism of Grand Secretary Li Xian. Also different was Zhang
Juzheng's realization that control over the central bureaucracy was not
enough. By ordering the closure of private academies, he attempted to
thwart organized resistance by local elites such as the Donglin partisans
whose members continued to put pressure on the government even while
out of power. The decree issued by Wei Zhongxian calling for the
suppression of Donglin in 1625 was an extraordinary admission of the
shift in power: "They wield the power of the court from afar, influence
the provincial government and act arbitrarily in their home districts."10
The marginal opposition in Yang Tinghe's time came from a group
united by a common teacher, but by Zhang Juzheng's time this marginal
opposition had organized on the basis of common interest. The Donglin
partisans' campaign to limit the power of the political center continued
to be fueled by moral transgression in the capital. First was the Wanli
emperor's refusal to name his eldest son as heir to the throne, then there
‘“Heinrich Busch, "The Tung-lin Academy and its Political and Philosophical
Significance," Monumenta Serica 14(1949-55), 63.
364
was the eunuch administration of Wei Zhongxian. Donglin opposition
to the "concentration of power in the grand secretariat,"11 was not, as
Heinrich Busch claims, engendered merely by Zhang Juzheng's flogging
of Zou Yuanbiao (1551-1624) and others after they criticized
him for not mourning.12 We know that unhappiness with the grand
secretariat had a long history and actually had been mounting since the
middle of the dynasty.
Mirroring, or perhaps even preceding the devolution of political
and economic power from center to margin in the late Ming, the grand
secretariat and Hanlin Academy ceased to function as the source and
center of elite culture. The power of the grand secretaries as elite
cultural doyens began to decline with the arrival of the Former Seven
M asters when the standards for elite poetry shifted from the grand
secretariat to the lower levels of the bureaucracy. Beginning in the
Jiajing reign, grand secretaries ceased to be influential cultural figures.
The grand unity of literature, the moral Dao, and government had by
this time been undermined from several sides. Grand secretaries were
increasingly exposed as immoral, the wen of government, the examination
essay was under increasing criticism, and perhaps m ost important,
literature and the Dao seemed inexorably separate. Given their enormous
differences, it is striking that both W ang Yangming and Yang Shen
contributed to the divorce, Wang by actively undermining the value of
the word as source of moral authority, and Yang by extolling the word
in a context absent of any moral standard. This study has already shown
11Cambridge History o f China, Vol. 7,533.
n Busch, "The Tung-lin Academy and its Political and Philosophical

Significance," 16-17.
365
the remarkable extent to which some of the most influential currents in
Ming dynasty elite culture were originally the products of the political
and cultural margins, Wang Yangming of course being the most prominent
example. This tendency increased in the late Ming, for in this period we
see the center of elite culture having moved irrevocably from the capital
to local regions, particularly the Jiangnan area.
Elite culture was also effected by other movements occurring
simultaneously. Merchants from Yangzhou and Huizhou were amassing
wealth and using that wealth directly to purchase social status. Institutional
mechanisms encouraged this sort of social mobility. The examination
system had been open to merchants since the beginning of the dynasty.
In the 16th and 17th centuries, in order to seek relief from fiscal crises,
the state began to sell the lowest civil service examination degrees,
indicating the fiscal distress of the political center amidst an increasingly
commercial late Ming society where most everything could be obtained
with money. Beginning around 1567, there was widespread sale of
studentships to the National University, the jiansheng. From around
1621, the lowest level official degree, shengyuan, could also be purchased.
Even official positions could at times be bought.13 Simultaneously,
gentry families were moving into mercantile activities, while rural gentry
families were moving to urban areas in the pursuit of markets and wealth.14
Many who could not adapt to new economic realities lost their wealth,
13Heinrich Busch records that a wealthy man named Huang Zhengbin

purchased the position of secretary in the Wuying Hall. Ibid., 141.
14Mu Chu Wiens, "Lord and Peasant: The Sixteenth to the Eighteenth Century,"
Modern China 6.1 (January 1980), 9; Cynthia J. Brokaw, The Ledgers o f M erit and
Dem erit: Social Change and M oral Order in Late Imperial China. (Princeton:
366
and it was not uncommon for aspiring merchants to buy outright the
more noble genealogy of a gentry family fallen on hard times.15 As
Theodore de Bary pointed out, citing Gui Youguang: "the status
distinctions among scholars, peasants, and merchants have become
blurred."16 Tadao Sakai finds evidence for class interpenetration in the
late Ming, and indeed a culture of social mobility rather than static
hierarchy, in the appearance of so-called popular encyclopedias, morality
books, and ledgers of merit and demerit, especially one of the earliest
written by Yuan Huang MM (1533-1606). Not only did morality books
serve the needs of ordinary people, they empowered ordinary people to
control their own destinies and improve their social standing. "Often
lacking the cultural and educational background of those who qualified
in the regular way, they tried to improve themselves in order to live up
to their new status or to achieve higher rank."17 It seems that the
primary function of Yuan Huang's ledger was to facilitate the achievement
of higher rank and status for those who were nevertheless wealthy—
especially appealing to mercantile classes. In fact the ledgers functioned
like a commercial transaction in the way they awarded "merit" for cash.
For instance if 100 coppers were spent on a good act, the user, or buyer
really, would receive one m erit.18 Craig Clunas has pointed out that
popular encyclopedias and the like were also part of a much larger trend
lsIbid., 5.
16Wm. Theodore de Bary, "Individualism and Humanitarianism in Late Ming

Thought," in de Bary, ed., Self and Society in Ming Thought (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1970), 173.
17Tadao Sakai, "Confucianism and Popular Educational Works," in de Bary,

ed., Self and Society in Ming Thought, 337.
18Sakai, "Confucianism and Popular Educational Works," 350.
367
toward an interest in material culture and a commodification of culture
in the late Ming. Specifically, there was an "explosion o f luxury
consumption, encompassing ...products necessary for the presentation in
elite life."19 Luxury products which were the accouterments of literati
life—ink stones, jades, porcelains, etc., were for sale. The primary
consumers of the material artifacts of literati culture, besides literati who
could afford it, were aspiring merchants who, along with purchasing
degrees, noble genealogies, and official positions, also added to their
affectation of elite status the gestures and articles of the literati. Especially
significant in relation to material culture in the late Ming is the decline
in importance of the political center. In discussing the production and
movement of cultural style and fashion, contemporary observers noted
that Beijing was no longer the source of cultural standards. For instance,
W ang Shizhen 3Eti:X (1526-1590) wrote that current tastes (as well as
the value of paintings, porcelains, jades, etc.) were determined by men
of Suzhou, after which men in Anhui followed and only then did the
new tastes begin to enter the palace.20 In fact the W anli em peror
personally joined in the new market for cultural items and is recorded as
having paid 150 ounces of silver for the purchase of a ceramic vase.21
According to some, the influence of merchants may have had an
effect on the commodification of elite material culture beyond that of
their wealth and socially driven consumer appetites. Yu Yingshi has
discussed the emerging "mercantile spirit" in the 16th to 18th centuries.
19Craig Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial Culture and Social Status in

Early Modern China (University of Illinois Press, 1991), 13.
20Wang Shizhen, in ibid., 61.
21Ibid., 179.
368
Timothy Brook has provided a more specific account of one man from
an artisan background, Zhang Han jjS$& (1511-1593), an official in the
administration of Zhang Juzheng who he claims favored an "economic
logic" to replace the anti-profit "M encian logic" of traditional
Confucianism.22 Whether or not his claims about Zhang Han are entirely
accurate, for it seems that he did not entirely have a "favorable attitude
tow ard m erchants,"23 his prominent role in the court during the
administration of Zhang Juzheng may provide additional evidence that
Zhang Juzheng held a favorable attitude toward m erchants.24 One
indication that this may have indeed been the case is the decidedly
anti-merchant and anti-profit orientation of many of Zhang Juzheng's
enemies in the Donglin group.
In her revision of Sakai's work, Brokaw, while admitting that
earlier ledgers reflected a mentality favoring the pursuit of profit and
social mobility, sees a dramatic shift in later ledgers in which she finds
an elite reaction to the threat of social instability. According to her, the
16th and 17th centuries were a period of "political, economic, and social
insecurity." She sees the Jiajing reign also as an important dividing line,
“ Timothy Brook, "The Merchant Network in 16th Century China: A

Discussion and Translation of Zhang Han's 'On Merchants'", Journal o f the Economic
and Social History o f the Orient Vol. 24, part II, (May 1981), 182.
“This quote is from Brook, ibid., 175. Craig Clunas says just the opposite,
namely, in Zhang's Treatise on Merchants, "he shows only a limited degree of
sympathy for a mercantile point of view" (Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial
Culture and Social Status in Early Modern China, 144). In fact Brook's own
translations from Zhang Han's Songchuang mengyu [Dream Essays at the Pine
Window] at times reveal an anti-profit and anti-merchant orientation. For examples,
see Treatise on Merchants, 175; 186-7.
“ Brook notes that this is the suggestion of Angela Hsi, "The Social and
Economic Status of the Merchant Class in the Ming Dynasty," Ph. D dissertation,
University of Illinois, 1972,174-5.
369
after which there was increasing "anxiety" on the part of elites.25 She
cites the same quote by Gui Youguang as Theodore de Bary, to the
effect that "distinctions between scholars, peasants, and merchants have
become blurred." However, instead of representing it as a mere observation
of Gui's and a more or less neutral assessment of social realities, Brokaw
adds perhaps the most salient point, namely that Gui spoke out Ms
observation because the blurring of social distinctions worried him.26
Another example of elite reaction she gives is in the person of Liu
Zongzhou §i!]7Kii (1578-1646), a Donglin partisan, who wrote the "Manual
for Man" A H (Renpu), designed specifically to overturn the morally,
and socially, deleterious ledgers and avoid the trap of profit-making.27
Unlike the ledgers, it was written for scholar elites and lacked any
dynamic vision of society.28 A similar expression of elite anxieties were
new kinds of ledgers of merit and demerit appearing in the 17th century.
These rather acted as "encyclopedias of proper behavior" revealing a
"concern with ensuring social stability, with regulating, even containing,
social mobility."29 A later example of this type is Xiong Hongbei's
"M eritorious Deeds at No Cost" [Bufeiqian gongdelij.
Written in the late 17th century, listing prescriptions for 11 status levels,
beginning as follows:
iSBrokaw, The Ledgers o f M erit and Demerit: Social Change and M oral
Order in Late Imperial China, 3.
“ Ibid., 14-15.
27For Liu Zongzhou's anti-profit orientation see his "Zixu" in Liu Zongzhou,
Renpu [Manual of Man] (Xuehai kibian, Vol. 35), la-2a.
lsThe Ledgers o f M erit and Demerit: Social Change and M oral O rder in
Late Imperial China, 130; 137.
29Ibid., 162.
370
local gentry
scholars
peasants
craftsmen
merchants30
Most noteworthy here is the fact that a new category, the local gentry,
has occupied the top position, clearly reflecting the change in national
power relations which the Donglin Party was intimately involved and
which continued into the Qing. Many of the supporters of these new
ledgers, like W en Zhenmeng XW.S. (1574-1636), were also leading
Donglin figures. At the same time, Donglin affiliates like Chen Longzheng
E^HIE (1585-1645) "urged people of low status simply to be contented
with their station."31
W e may want to consider why Donglin partisans possessed such a
conservative social philosophy given that they were heavily influenced
by the doctrines of Wang Yangming. The question is pertinent given
the degree of credit modem scholarship has given to W ang Yangming
for the social changes which appeared to follow the dissemination of his
doctrines. It is de Bary's view that the blurring of status distinctions was
closely connected with the doctrines of Wang Yangming, for according
to de Bary, Wang's "liberal" view of man, his belief that each individual
is equally endowed with the potential to be a sage, "brought together the
upper and lower classes."32 Ho Ping-ti has suggested that W ang's
30Ibid., 172.
31Ibid., 177.
32Wm. Theodore de Bary, "Introduction," Self and Society in Ming Thought,
22.
371
doctrines not only led to an intellectual emancipation of the lower classes,
but a "social emancipation" as well.33 The proposal that Wang Yangming's
doctrines encouraged social mobility in the late Ming is also forcibly
made by Tadao Sakai:
...prior to the Ming period and especially in the thought of

Zhu Xi, there remained a clear distinction between those
who actually achieved a high degree of wisdom and virtue
and the great mass of ordinary men. In the Wang Yangming
school, on the other hand, there was a definite emphasis on
the popularization of learning so that all men, high and
low, could achieve self-fulfillment, and the Way or True
Learning could answer the needs of ordinary people in their
everyday lives.34
Sakai notes that Yuan Huang had close connections with the Wang
Yangming school. Yuan himself studied under Wang Ji, and Sakai
argues that Yuan's ledgers were an expression of the teachings of Wang
Gen (1483-1541): They were "a concrete method whereby practical
application could be given to the idea of 'establishing one's own destiny."'35
There is a fundamental difference between Wang Gen and the merchant
users of late Ming morality books, however. For W ang Gen, taking
control of one's destiny meant attaining sagehood. We note that what
motivated people to use morality books and ledgers of merit was not the
desire to achieve sagehood, or even virtuous conduct per se, but "reward."
Indeed, as Brokaw points out, "It was the promise of immediate worldly
33Ho Ping-ti, The Ladder o f Success in Imperial China: Aspects o f Social

Mobility, 1368-1911 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1980), 199.
^ a d a o Sakai, "Confucianism and Popular Educational Works," 339.

3SIbid„ 334.
372
gain that attracted Yuan Huang."36 This is reflected in Yuan Huang's
own experience. He came from a commoner family whose previous
generations had been disbarred from the civil service examinations due
to the family's support of the Jianwen emperor. Yuan believed that he
passed the jinshi (and sired a son) only because he had accumulated the
requisite m orality points using a ledger of m erit and dem erit.37
- Nevertheless, it is certainly true that certain members of the W ang
Yangming school were ledger supporters and also displayed pro-profit,
pro-merchant sensibilities. For instance, He Xinyin f5Jjl>Pi (1517-1579)
advocated a change in the order of the traditional social hierarchy, placing
merchants behind scholars and ahead of peasants and craftsmen instead
of their place at the bottom.38 Wang Gen was himself from a merchant
family. If Wang Yangming's immediate disciples promoted merchant
values and the Donglin partisans, especially Liu Zongzhou and his
followers, opposed them, one wonders how both can be the legacy of
W ang Yangming and his doctrines.
In the judgem ent of contemporary scholarship, the thought of
W ang Yangming dom inates the intellectual, literary, and religious
landscape of late Ming China. In the course of this chapter I will
question the degree of influence Wang Yangming had on the values and
sensibilities of late Ming literati. I will suggest that the values of Wang
Yangming did not dominate the world view of literati at this time, at
36Brokaw, The Ledgers o f M erit and Demerit: Social Change and M oral
37Sakai, "Confucianism and Popular Educational Works," 343.
373
least not to the extent that we have been led to believe. I would like to
suggest that the kind of elite anxiety which Brokaw discusses lay at the
root of what has been termed the "status oriented"39 character of late-Ming
society-elites fearing lest their status be usurped by wealthy merchants,
and merchants anxious that they might be unable to entirely shed their
former social identities. In increasingly commodified late Ming society,
where traditional standards of social worth were losing authority and
distinctions between merchants and literati were to some extent being
challenged, we find literati "groping for identity"40 and attempting to
redistinguish themselves as social and cultural elites. I will argue that
rather than the "liberal" and "humanist"41 sensibilities of Wang Yangming
which saw the intrinsic worth of all men, late Ming literati culture
operated according to the "elitist" sensibilities of Yang Shen, where
elegance and taste were employed by elites to distinguish themselves
from their newly affluent challengers and vulgar imitators.
From Merchant to Literatus
Wang Gen was perhaps the one man who came closest to being
the personification of Wang Yangming's doctrines. A common merchant
from an undistinguished background, Wang Gen became one of W ang
39Cambridge History o f China, Vol. 7,546.
““ Andrew Plaks, The Four M asterworks o f the Ming N ovel (Princeton:

41de Bary's terms. See his "Introduction," Self and Society in Ming Thought,
22.
374
Yangming's premier disciples and a famed teacher in his own right. He
was a manifest proof in a sense, that every man was a sage. His
transformation from merchant to sage is especially germane to our
discussion of late Ming culture because in several key ways Wang Gen
serves as the prototype merchant who rises above Ms station. As we
shall see, this was not accomplished without some anxiety, on the part
of Wang Gen, and his teacher.
Prior to meeting Wang Yangming, it is said that Wang Gen had
Ms own enlightenment experience, after wMch he found Mmself speaking
for the sages. It is crucial to note that Wang Gen Mmself apparently felt
that it was not appropriate for a man dressed in the clothes of a merchant
to be preacMng the words of the sages. So, in the manner of Yao and
Shun, he took to wearing a hat and gown which he fashioned himself
according to descriptions in the Rites Classic, an act whose significance
must be understood in the context of a culture in which clotMng was the
prime indicator of social status. After he became Wang Yangming's
disciple and confirmed for Mmself that common men like Mmself were
indeed sages, he nevertheless refused to part with Ms getup. There is no
evidence that Wang Yangming urged him to either. On the contrary,
Wang Yangming appears to have abetted somewhat in the cover-up of
Wang Gen's social background. Wang Gen's given name was originally
Yin, meaning "silver" and synonymous with "money." "Silver" was of
course an appropriately auspicious name for the son of a merchant, but
evidently not so for a student of the Dao, for Wang Yangming renamed
Mm, changing the CMnese character for "yin" to "gen," meamng "root."42
42,1 Yin" and "gen" are still homophones in many southern dialects.
375
There is another instructive anecdote involving an incident between
Wang Yangming and Wang Gen which I believe also reveals that Wang
Yangming was not entirely in favor of all the social implications of his
doctrine that common people were sages. In 1522, when, we remember,
the first assaults against Yang Tinghe had already occurred, Wang Gen
decided that his teacher's doctrines needed to be announced to the world,
and so he set out for Beijing where he planned to directly petition the
emperor. Before beginning on his journey to Beijing, however, Wang
Gen evidently felt he needed more exterior evidence that he was speaking
for the sages, and he added to his sagely accoutrements a home-made
cart like the one in which Kongzi supposedly travelled. W ang Gen, the
commoner dressed as a sage and armed with Wang Yangming's doctrines
proclaiming that he and any man had direct access to the wisdom of the
sages, arrived at the center of Chinese political and cultural power.
Symbolically, it was one of the most significant events of the dynasty.
Wang Gen's effort to bring the wisdom of the sages to the center of the
empire had to be aborted, however, due to criticism from quarters which
likely took Wang Gen by surprise. Wang Yangming's disciples in the
capital were evidently enraged by his behavior and urged him to leave.
He did so, and when he returned to Wang Yangming, his teacher was so
furious that he forced Wang Gen to stand at his gate for three days
before he agreed to recognize him.43
Why were Wang Yangming and his disciples so furious? It seems
the disciples in the capital referred to were those preparing to take the
43L. Carrington Goodrich and Chaoying Fang, eds., D ictionary o f Ming

Biography (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), Vol. 2, 1382-3. Julia
Qing, ed., The Record o f Ming Scholars (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press,
1987), 174-5.
376
1523 m etropolitan exam ination.44 Wang Gen therefore chose a
particularly sensitive time, perhaps even consciously so, to undertake
his campaign. Yang Tinghe was rallying his forces in order to strike
back at an opposition which he associated directly with Wang Yangming
and his disciples. It was one thing for the anti-Yang Tinghe forces to
claim that the emperor's innate moral sensibilities transcended the dictates
of the textual tradition, but quite another to argue that every person's
did. The arrival at the gates of the capital of a commoner-disciple of
Wang Yangming with a homemade cart and outlandish clothes claiming
to be a sage probably embarrassed the disciples, to say the least, and
may have also been seen by them as threatening to undermine their
position given that they were in confrontation with likes o f Yang Tinghe.
Although nothing but a literal expression of Wang Yangming's doctrines,
nonetheless Wang Gen's performance was seen as inappropriate. Wang
Gen may have believed that the combination of his innate knowledge
and his costume made him a sage, but it is clear that W ang Yangming
and his more literarily distinguished disciples continued to see Wang
Gen as something closer to the unsophisticated merchant that he formerly
was.
Wang Yangming's behavior in the affair underscores a fact already
established: Wang's formulation of the doctrine of liangzhi was not
primarily aimed at bestowing cultural and political authority on the
common man, but rather to undercut the authority of his enemies at the
political center. To the extent to which Wang's pronouncements on
^For instance, one of the disciples who urged Wang Gen to leave the capital
was Ouyang De. Ouyang also took the 1523 examination, and passed. See Dictionary
o f Ming Biography, Vol. 2,1383.
377
liangzhi in theory granted the common man a measure of moral autonomy,
Wang still did not wish to see the common man socially empowered and
would likely have felt uneasy to leam that his doctrines were a vehicle
for real social mobility. When Wang Yangming talked about commoners
having liangzhi, he did not mention merchants or petty landow ners-the
groups who were ripe for empowerment. Rather, he spoke of "ignorant
men and women". His inclusion here of women is especially revealing,
for in Wang's day women were socially and politically disenfranchised,
something he saw as natural and legitimate and for which the moral
empowerment of liangzhi was irrelevant. It was fine for merchants to
exercise their moral sensibilities, though as long as they continued to
behave like merchants it is unlikely they could ever be sages. In fact, I
would argue Wang shared a disdain for merchants common in his day.
His insistence that Wang Yin change his name was entirely consistent
with his belief that the pursuit of profit was perhaps the single largest
source of moral decline.
Wang Gen's desire to transcend his roots, change his clothes,
leave the marketplace and speak for the sages, and thus in effect play a
role previously reserved for the shidaifu, is some evidence that he himself
saw the life of a merchant as opposed to that of the sage. Although
W ang Gen's efforts were not devoted to improving his social status per
se, and the effort on his part to shed his merchant identity was ostensibly
a function of the pursuit of moral perfection, the manner in which he
transformed himself is instructive for subsequent events in the late Ming,
especially when considering the efforts taken by merchants and petty
gentry to take on the accouterments of high literati culture and claim for
378
themselves a cultural and social status previously denied them. In this
regard one point stands out. Even though merchants were sages, it
would seem Wang Gen felt the need to cover up his merchant identity.
To do this, Wang Gen had to rely on what he considered were exterior
m anifestations of sageliness, in his case clothing and a cart. A
concentration on such exterior props is in itself symptomatic of anxiety
concerning one's social position and is emblematic of the material focus
of late Ming cultural life. In Ming society where the signs of social
station were cultural, affluence was not automatically translated into
social status. Therefore newly affluent individuals concentrated on
procuring the external signs of higher social station, the cultural
accoutrements and affectations of the literati. We can therefore expand
Brokaw's claim that late Ming elites displayed anxiety in the face of
threats to their social and economic hegemony. The newly affluent
individuals who constituted the threat were equally anxious, lest their
former merchant identities show through the veneer of literati affectation.
We have already discussed strategies for transcending one's social
position utilized by affluent individuals in the late Ming, one being the
consumption of elite cultural articles. Mere consumption was not enough,
however, for to affect elite status and successfully disguise a less
distinguished social background, one also had to be versed in their
proper use. W e are reminded of Bourdieu's characterization of
consumption as "an act of deciphering or decoding."45 This explains
the appearance of a number of encyclopedias and m anuals giving
instruction in the correct manipulation of the affectations of elite cultural
4SPierre Bourdieu, Distinction: A Social Critique o f the Judgement o f Taste,

translated by Richard Nice (Cambridge: Harvard University Press), 1984,2
379
life, a striking parallel to the appearance of morality handbooks. Perhaps
the first and most widely influential work on the ABC's of elite culture
in the late Ming was Gao Lian's (late 16th c.) Yashang zhai zunsheng
bajian [Eight Discourses on the A it of Living from the Studio where
Elegance is Valued] which appeared in a popular encyclopedia, the
Jujia bibei [Necessities for the Householder]. Gao Lian included in Ms
book such "necessities" for the would-be scholar as the proper interior
decoration for his studio, the connoisseurship of various objects d'art,
the proper enjoyment of food and drink, etc..46 A merchant himself,
Gao Lian became "the very model of the secluded scholar, disengaged
from worldly affairs."47 As a merchant turned scholar, Gao Lian was
expert in the accoutrements and affectations of the literati elite, and Ms
book presumably was primarily read by men of like social standing and
ambitions.
W ang Daokun SEitM (1525-93) perhaps best epitomizes the
successful transition from merchant to literati. From a family of Huizhou
salt merchants whose considerable fortune allowed him to pursue an
education, Wang successfully passed the jinshi in 1547, the same year
as W ang Shizhen. After a solid official career, he retired somewhat
prematurely in 1575, not unusual in the late Ming, and spent the rest of
Ms life in the pursuit of literary endeavors. One of these was a collection
of biographies of famous merchants, noteworthy for its descriptions of
strategies by which merchants may gain acceptance from the local elite
community, such as land-buying and contributions to charity.48 We
‘“Clunas, Superfluous Things: Material Culture and Social Status in Early

Modern China, 20.
47Ibid„ 20.
380
should add to this the commission of literary products, bought and paid
for by wealthy individuals seeking a more elite pedigree. Yu Yingshi
has pointed out the explosion of merchant funeral inscriptions,
biographies, and longevity prefaces appearing in the collected works of
famous scholars beginning in the 16th century.49 W ang Daokue was
one of the men who cashed in on the need of rising merchant families to
enhance their pedigrees, and made himself available, at a price, to write
them flattering genealogies claiming noble ancestors. Wang wrote one
such genealogy in the form of a tomb inscription for the father of Gao
Lian, the merchant turned scholar who wrote Eight Discourses on the
A rt o f Living from the Studio where Elegance is Valued. Wang provided
Gao Lian's father, and thus Gao Lian himself, with "an impressive but
unprovable line of descent of great antiquity, as the descendant in the
fifteenth generation of a sixth-century empress".50 The connection with
both nobility and antiquity was of course exactly what Gao Lian valued.
Wang Daokun's liminal role between merchant and literati was a
source of some anxiety for him. Yu Yingshi claims that Wang was a
shidaifu who "viewed the world from the vantage point of a merchant,"51
and he in fact seems to be a personification of the claim that "to some
degree merchant status was now glorified as a positive achievement in
49Yu Yingshi, Zhongguo jinshi zongjiao lunli yu shangren jingshen [Religious

Ethics and the Mercantile Spirit in Recent Chinese History] (Taibei: Lianjing, 1987),
“ Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial Culture and Social Status in Early

Modern China, 14.
51Yu Yingshi, Shangren jingshen, 162.
381
itself."52 Yet these characterizations are jeopardized by the deliberate
erasure of merchant pedigree, a service which Wang performed for rising
merchants like Gao Lian. In some cases in fact, it is difficult for modem
scholars to ferret out genuine backgrounds, so effective were merchants
in covering up their previous social identities. To give but one example,
W ang Ruqian (1576/7-1656) was a wealthy salt merchant who built a
famous garden where he entertained elites and through which gained
access to literati circles.53 Johanna Handlin Smith tells us, however,
that "even the identification of Wang Ruqian as a merchant is scarcely
discernible from the available texts."54 These literary cover-ups show
that merchant pasts were a source of anxiety which manifested itself in a
quest for elegance and the attempt to erase all suggestion of mercantile
sensibility. This was a sensitive affair, especially in an age when elegance
was for sale and buyers were many. Wang Daokun successfully made
the transition from merchant to literati, yet for him there remained a
sense of insecurity that elegance could at any time expose merchant
attributes:
Dwelling in the mountains is a splendid thing, but if you

become slightly over-attached to it, then it is like the market
place or the court. The connoisseurship of calligraphy or
painting is an elegant thing, but let it ever so slightly become
a craving, and it becomes like trade or commerce. Poetry
and wine are a joyous thing, but if you become even slightly
S2Brokaw, The Ledgers o f M erit and Demerit: Social Change and M oral
^Joanna F. Handlin Smith, "Gardens in Ch'i Piao-chia's Social World: Wealth

and Values in Late-Ming Kiangnan," Journal o f Asian Studies 51(February, 1992),
73.
MIbid., 74.
382
greedy for them then they are hell. Hospitality is an
untrammeled thing, but as soon as a vulgarian disturbs it,
then it is a Sea of Bitterness.55
This passage clearly shows that Wang has internalized the elite disdain
for anything smacking of a merchant sensibility. His belief that a slight
err can transform elegance into vulgarity also reveals his own anxiety, at
the root of which is of course his own merchant background. Notice the
importance of maintaining an air of disinterestedness, a key trope, Clunas
tells us, in late Ming connoisseurship manuals. In one sense, disinterest
was the psychological cover-up of anxiety, itself an expression of merchant
sensibility. The collection of object d’art becomes a craving or a source
of anxiety only for those who need them as a badge of social status.
The true connoisseur is naturally of elite status and thus able to remain
disinterested. So the anxiety of the rising merchant was thus manifold.
Not only did he have to worry that his elite affectation was in some
sense incomplete, but also that he may be pursuing it with just a little
too much vigilance.
Elite Reaction: the Aestheticization of C ulture
As mentioned earlier, there was a reaction on the part of late

Ming elites, a function of the anxiety created from the threat of newly
affluent individuals. Similar to the transformation in ledgers of merit
ssIn Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial Culture and Social Status in

Early Modern China, 157.
383
and demerit outlined by Brokaw, we find manuals of connoisseurship
written by established elites which are less "how to" books than they are
standards by which elegance is established and vulgarity unmasked.
W hile aspiring merchants were busy deciphering the codes governing
elite consumption, elites in turn were busy inventing new codes even
more difficult to crack. The center for the creation of new elite cultural
codes, as mentioned earlier, was Suzhou. Zhang Yingwen (1530-
94), from a wealthy and distinguished Suzhou family, wrote Qing bi
cang [Pure and Arcane Collecting]. Also, the Treatise on Superfluous
Things was written by Wen Zhenheng (1585-1645), member
of the elite W en family of Suzhou, younger brother of Wen Zhenmeng
(1574-1636) the famous Donglin official, and grandson of the
great literary figure Wen Zhengming 1XMM (1470-1559). The new
values defined in such works were the "strange," the "antique," and the
"elegant."56 This last value is especially noteworthy since distinguishing
the elegant from the vulgar becomes an obsession of the age. The
antique and strange could easily be purchased by the vulgarite, but
ultimately could not quite buy him elegance. For Wen Zhenheng, elegance
had to be preserved from anything that smacked of mercantile sensibility
or was tainted by the lower social orders. Consider for instance Wen's
discussion of parrots found in his Treatise on Superfluous Things:
Parrots are capable of speech and, thus, must be taught

short poems and harmonious phrases. They must not be
allowed to hear the chatter of the well-heads and market
places and vulgar rustic talk, a violent assault upon the
ear.57
Îbid., 42; 44.
384
Concerning the arrangement of flowers, Wen says: "It is particularly
important to have no more than one or two varieties, since too many
gives the appearance of a wine shop."58 Other times, elites were more
explicit. For instance Shen Defu (1578-1642) argued for a threefold
hierarchy of taste: men of elegance, art-loving gentry of Jiangnan, and
last, gullible merchants of Xinan.59 It was of course distinction between
people, not objects which was Wen Zhenheng's root concern. Craig
Clunas provides an excellent summation:
There can be little doubt about the basically social aims of

W en Zhenheng's project, and little doubt, too, that the
prominence given to material culture and consum ption
behavior in the literature of the late Ming period reflects a
generalized intuition, if not explicit awareness, of the part
which things could play in a hierarchically structured but
highly stressed society. Things were social actors, and
texts about things were not untouched external observers of
their action but further players in their own right.60
In the realm of consumption and connoisseurship the anxiety on

the part of elites that the distinction between elegance and vulgarity was
not being maintained was also in a sense magnified, for merchants and
literati were competing in the same game. During an era in which
57Wen Zhenheng, Zhangwu zhi [Treatise on Superflous Things], in Huang

Binhong, ed., Meishu congshu (Shenzhou guoguang she), 4.160. My translation is
a slight modification of Clunas, in his Superfluous Things, 42.
“ Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial Culture and Social Status in Early
Modern China, 44.
S9Ibid., 87.
“ Ibid., 74.
385
higher degrees were increasingly difficult to come by and government
service was increasingly scorned, an official degree and title became
less and less the benchmark of social status, especially since it was now
not the only road to affluence. For established elites, practicing cultural
arts, maintaining the literati life-style, engaging in connoisseurship, etc.,
became the primary means by which they could maintain elite identity.
A t the same time, however, there was an unhappy recognition on the
part o f elites that the literati life-style could be imitated by men with the
economic means to do so—even a parrot bought in the market-place
could mimic the harmonious phrases of the cloistered bird. In the arena
of material culture, forgeries were rampant and the connoisseur had to
be on constant look-out. All manner of social interaction was carefully
scrutinized for traces of mercantile sensibility revealing the ruse of the
imposter. Even in scholarship there is an increased interest in unmasking
literary forgeries. This anxiety over imitation and forgery which we
find to be ubiquitous in late Ming culture, I would argue, is closely
connected with insecurity of social identity.
This anxiety was often expressed in the arena o f language and
literature-suggested in Wen Zhenheng's passage above-traditionally the
realm of activity where established elites held a cultural monopoly.
Here too, the newly affluent strove to imitate, thus we find the appearance
of merchant-sponsored poetry societies and the like. Not just a pleasant
past-time, for if one was to ultimately make the transition from merchant
to literati, like Wang Daokun, literary skill was an absolute necessity.
In elite literary circles then, we find that concern over imitation and the
standards by which to judge authentic poetry becomes paramount.
386
The revival of the Jugu poetics of Li Mengyang with the appearance
of the so-called Latter Seven Masters is a prime example of the efforts
to maintain standards of literary elegance in the late Ming. Their insistence
on fidelity to ancient Qin and Han prose styles underscored their contempt
for "contemporary prose" (shiwen $%%), also known as the "eight-legged
essay" (baguwen AJ3&I&:), studied assiduously by hordes of hopeful
examination candidates. Given the social climate of the late Ming, a
return to Jugu poetics was an obvious strategy in the battle to maintain
elite standards. Whenever standards are seen as degrading or being
encroached upon, return to the ancients in order to redefine and reassert
them was a conventional reaction. In literary historical treatments, the
advent of late Ming Archaism has been characterized as part of the
conventional cyclical movement in Ming poetics whereby writers favoring
Song styles, like Tang Xianzu (1550-1617), arose to challenge
the poetics of the Seven Masters. They in turn where challenged by the
Latter Seven Masters who returned to Tang styles. The Latter Seven
Masters came under attack by the Gongan school of Yuan Hongdao
H (1568-1610) and his brothers. Leaving aside what explanatory power
the poetic-cycle theory may have, we see here the interesting phenomenon
of a rapid turnover of poetic styles, especially when compared to the
long-term dominance of the grand secretariat style in the early Ming. It
should be noted that rapid changes in style are a characteristic of
commodified culture. This was especially true in the late Ming, because
rapid changes in the most favored style was a strategy to maintain an
elite taste in a cultural market-place. In other words, rapid change in
style would always keep the elite cultural leaders one step ahead of
387
lagging imitators.
One problem with the poetic-cycle theory is that it fails to account
for any clear difference between the Former and Latter Masters. While
the poetics of the Former and Latter Seven Masters may have been
extremely similar, they evolved in significantly different social and
political contexts. First, it should be noted that W ang Shizhen, the
acknowledged leader of the late Ming Archaists, came from a distinguished
official family, his father and grandfather both having obtained the jinshi
degree. So while Yoshikawa Kojiro could plausibly make the argument
that Li Mengyang's poetics represented a townsman mentality, he could
not do the same for Wang Shizhen no matter how similar the poetics. I
have argued in Chapter Three that Li Mengyang's poetics was a statement
in opposition to the moral decay at the political center, and ultimately,
in the literati class in general. In this sense, the poetics of Wang Shizhen
was the opposite of the Jugu poetics of Li Mengyang. While Li Mengyang's
orientation was overwhelmingly moral, Wang Shizhen's was aesthetic.
This was due, in part, to another important difference between the Former
and Latter Masters. Li Mengyang and his group were mostly Northerners;
the Latter M asters were mostly Southerners. Here change in the
geographical association of Jugu poetics in the late Ming traces the
general shift from North to South in literati culture as well as economic
power. W ith this shift, we find a reassertion of a typical Southern
poetics foregrounding issues of style and aesthetics rather than morality
and communicability. It is important to note that moral/political issues
were not absent and there were also conflicts between the Latter Seven
Masters and the ruling grand secretaries in the late Ming. Wang Shizhen
388
opposed both Yan Song and Zhang Juzheng, stemming in part from the
fact that Yan Song had his father executed. Wang's poetics, however,
did not represent an indictment of the poetry or politics of the political
center. In a sense, it was directed in the opposite direction, against what
he considered to be a classical tradition which had been replaced by the
vulgarities of contemporary culture. Wang Shizhen's motivations for
returning to the methods of the Tang dynasty poetic masters therefore
had little to do with seeking the moral reinvigoration of literati culture
or his own moral self-cultivation. This is why as an Archaist, W ang
Shizhen and others in the late Ming entirely ignored the final position of
Li Mengyang, the patriarch of their school, for it was exactly uncultivated
language which they wanted to purge from literati poetry. Wang Shizhen
was explicit when he included "vulgar language" (Stg (suyu) and "the
language of the marketplace" rfrg f (shiyu) in his list of languages which
may not be used in poetry.61 As well, Tu Long IfHt (1542-1605), a
follower of Wang Shizhen, also claimed that only poetry which was
modeled on the ancients was superior,62 and complained about the decline
in standards of poetic language, saying: "They take yelling and passionate
outbursts as lofty and vigorous, the vulgar and base as natural."63 Tu
Long's similar elitist orientation is underlined by the fact that he wrote
an important connoisseurship book which also served as a model for
W en Zhenheng, Qi ju qi fu jian [Desultory Remarks on Furnishing the
61Wang Shizhen, "Quzao," in Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun xuan

[Selected Discussions of Chinese Literature from Different Ages] (Shanghai: Guji
chubanshe, 1985), 99.
62T u Long, "Wenlun," in ibid., 140.
“ Tu Long, Ibid., 139.
389
Abode of the Retired Scholar].64
Fugu poetics, like connoisseurship, served to distinguish the vulgar
from the elegant. However it also shared with connoisseurship the flaw
of vulnerability to imitation. This vulnerability was the basis for Yuan
Hongdao's concise and biting criticism of archaist poetics: "The ignorant
delight in its easiness" (yuzhe le qi yi).6S Just as there was a
reappearance of fu g u poetics in the late Ming then, so was there a
resurgence of criticism of fugu poetics in the manner first enunciated by
Yang Shen. Jiao Hong MM (1541-1620), a m em ber of the W ang
Yangming school, but also an editor of Yang Shen's works, criticized
archaist poetry, repeating Yang Shen's metaphorical polemics almost
verbatim. In the preface to his appropriately entitled Wentan liezu
[Sacrificial Dishes on the Altar of Literature], Jiao Hong pointedly
attacks fugu poetics as too narrow:
Compare it to a wealthy man's table. The mountains and

oceans provide their delicacies, four excellencies and eight
treasures, the three cuts of meat and the seven pickled
vegetables.... The three elegancies and the hundred flavors
all combine and contrast, advancing to new heights. And
then there is some indigent fellow who gets one flavor and
thinks that is a lot for him, forgetting the full setting of the
hundred delicacies. Is it not deplorable?66
“ Clunas asserts that Tu Long's book was largely extracted from Gao Lian's.
See Clunas, Superfluous Things: Material Culture and Social Status in Early Modern
China, 28 ff.
“ Yuan Hongdao," Xuetaogeji xu," Yuan Zhonglang quanji [Yuan Hongdao's

Complete Works] (Taibei: Weiwen Publishing Co., 1976), Vol. 1 , 1.6a.
“ Jiao Hong, "Wentan liezu xu," in Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun
xuan, 136.
390
The charge that fugu poetics were practiced by cultural unsophisticates
was also taken up by the Yuan brothers. For instance, Yuan Zongdao I t
th sI (d. 1600) says: "To adopt ancient words and phrases into one's own
works is no different from sticking animal skins and tree leaves on to
one’s [fashionable] garment or throwing raw meat [dripping] with blood
into delicacies."67 The metaphorical positioning here of Yuan Zongdao
remains the same as that of Yang Shen, only the metaphor is more
exaggerated and the tone more vehement, reflecting perhaps the greater
threat from would-be poets with limited cultural abilities and lower
social standing.
W ang Shizhen and the other M asters were hardly cultural
unsophisticates themselves, of course, and they adopted strategies to
defend their positions. One such strategy was to emphasize the notion
of a poetic "enlightenment." Finding its source in the literary theory of
the Southern Song poet Yan Yuan, the notion of artistic enlightenment
became very influential in the late Ming, especially in the theories of
literati painting as enunciated by Dong Qichang U S II (1555-1636).
Along with mastering the "method" of the ancients, argued the Masters,
it was equally important that there be an quasi-m ystical artistic
"enlightenment" on the part of the poet. In the words of one Master, Hu
Yinglin ffliBM (1551-1602): "To have method without enlightenment is
like a young novice monk fettered by the rules, but enlightenment which
does not derive from law is the wild fox of heterodoxy."68 To what
exactly this "enlightenment" refers is a point of debate. Richard Lynn,
67Chou Chih-p'ing, Yuan Hung-tao and the Kung-an School. (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 1988), 29.
“ Ibid., 235.
391
for instance, claims the significance of the poetry of both the Former
and Latter Seven Masters lay in its relationship with what he terms
Neo-Confucian self-cultivation. According to Lynn, for Li Mengyang
and his late Ming counterparts, especially Wang Shizhen, poetry was
"an aesthetic counterpart to the Neo-Confucian discipline of self-
cultivation and search for enlightenment."69 Yet we should keep in
mind that the social sentiments of these two kinds of enlightenment
were quite opposite. "Neo-Confucian enlightenment," especially after
W ang Yangming, was open to all by virtue of each person's innate
moral sensibility. Aesthetic enlightenment was meant to delimit the
number of people who could claim poetic mastery, and to distinguish
themselves from the great poets who had miraculously internalized the
methods of the ancients.
I have argued elsewhere that what I call "the rhetoric of
enlightenment" in archaist poetics and the painting theories of Dong
Qichang had little to do with what is termed enlightenment in Chan
Buddhism and certain strands of Ming Confucianism.70 For the archaists
and Dong Qichang, both method and enlightenment together served to
defend the elite position of the literati poet/painter against what they
considered to be vulgar imitators. The internalization of the poetry and
69Richard John Lynn, "Orthodoxy and Enlightenment: Wang Shih-chen's

Theory of Poetry and Its Antecedents," in de Bary, The Unfolding o f Neo-Confucianism
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1970), 255.
70See my "Ch'an Rhetoric and Ming Dynasty Poetry and Painting Criticism,"
Journal o f Asian Culture 12 (1989), 17-41. For an opposite opinion that takes the
incorporation of term "enlightenment" in poetry theories at face value, see Richard
Lynn, "The Sudden and the Gradual in Chinese Poetry Criticism: An Examination
of the Ch'an-Poetry Analogy," in Peter N. Gregory, ed., Sudden and Gradual:
Approaches to Enlightenment in Chinese Thought (Honolulu: University of Hawaii
Press, 1987), 381-427.
392
painting methods of the ancients was necessary-the maintenance of
standards demanding a thorough education in the tradition were an
essential barrier to poorly educated poetic pretenders. Method by itself,
however, was no longer enough, as it had been for Li Mengyang. The
Latter Seven Masters were acutely aware of the charge of imitativeness
leveled at Li Mengyang and his simplistic fu g u poetics. They avoided
the charge, and the more acute danger that their poetry could be imitated
by someone who lacked requisite status, by introducing the rhetoric of
enlightenment. Enlightenment insured that mere access to the ancients
was not enough. It was an aesthetic sensibility accessed only by a few
and whose precise method of attainment was left purposely vague. Thus
we have to look beyond the rhetoric of enlightenment in order to see
that the real concern was distinguishing the elegance of genuine literati
culture from that of vulgar pretenders. For instance, in a typical utterance
Dong Qichang says: "When literati paint, they do so using the method
of grassy script and strange characters. Their trees are like twisted iron
and their mountains are like painted sand. The completely reject the
common and vulgar trails. This is literati spirit (shiqi ± iQ ." 71 Here
method is clearly associated with a literary education broad enough to
include knowledge of the strange as well as the orthodox, to elevate the
practitioner from the common and the vulgar. But while Dong Qichang
and the Masters were forced to admit that method could be imitated,
they were steadfast in their determination that "literati spirit" could not.
As Dong said about the great ancient painters, "They also have literati
spirit. Later people imitated them, able to attain their craft, but not able
7lDong Qichang, Huashuo, in Yu Anlan, ed., Hualun congkan (Shanghai:

Renmin meishu chubanshe, 1963), 73
393
to attain their elegance.72 Enlightenment was the gate keeper of literati
spirit, ensuring that elegance could not be imitated.
Turning to the late Ming critics of fugu poetics, Yuan Hongdao
formed an influential literary society called Putao she [the Grape Society]
with his brothers Zongdao and Zhongdao cpUt (1570-1624), forming the
nucleus of what became known as the Gongan school of poetry. The
opposition between the Latter Seven Masters and the Gongan school
poets is conventionally characterized as that between imitation of the
ancients versus a poetry of individual emotion and spontaneity. Yuan
Hongdao is currently understood as another major figure who embodied
the late Ming humanist and liberalist Zeitgeist. In The Indiana Companion
to Literature, Hung Ming-shui notes for instance: "His uncompromising
stand on individuality inspired later generations to a new consciousness
of 'self.'"73 Yuan Hongdao is best known for his assertion that poetry
ought to be an expression of authentic emotion, a claim often made by
late Ming critics and writers, most notably Tang Xianzu. The high
value placed on emotion is considered to be associated with the Wang
Yangming school, and especially the Taizhou school which championed
the value of all natural emotions and desires. Many scholars in fact
view Yuan Hongdao's Gongan school as an extension of Wang Yangming's
thought into literary activity.74 Yuan Hongdao was a friend to both Jiao
72Ibid., 76.
^Wiiliam H. Nienhauser, Jr., ed., The Indiana Companion to Traditional

Chinese Literature (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986), 955.
74Mentioned in Struve, "Huang Zongxi," 485. She cites Mekata Makoto,

"Yomeigaku to Mindai no bungei" [(Wang) Yangming learning and the arts in the
Ming period], in Yomeigaku taikei, Vol. 1. ( Tokyo: Meitoku Shuppansha, 1971);
and Mizoguchi Yuzo, "Koanha no do" [The way of the Gongan school], in Iriya
kyoju, Ogawa kyoju taikyu kinen Chugoku bungaku gogaku ronshu. (Kyoto: Kyoto
394
Hong and Li Zhi, two members of the so-called Taizhou school, the
latter evidently influencing Yuan tremendously. According to Yuan
Zhongdao, after Yuan Hongdao met with Li Zhi he realized he had been
"culling worn-out phrases" in the manner of the Seven Masters, but after
having realized his error "each word flowed out from his innermost
being."75 We note that Li Zhi's theory of the child-like mind championed
language which was spontaneous expression, specifically opposed to
language which came from reading books.76 It seems, therefore, that
Yuan Hongdao and Li Zhi are retracing the steps of Chen Xianzhang,
who sought a poetics based on language of the mind.
To view Yuan Hongdao as in the lineage of Chen Xianzhang and
Wang Yangming via Li Zhi and attributing to him a poetics of uncultivated
expression, something of a poetic counterpart to liangzhi, would be
entirely misleading, however. Yuan Hongdao's cultural sensibilities were
clearly governed by an elite aestheticism, much more similar to Yang
Shen than either to Chen Xianzhang or Wang Yangming. W ithout
making an in-depth analysis of Yuan's poetics, it is simpler, and equally
revealing, to consider who was Yuan's favorite poet and why. Xu Wei
was the poet he most admired and with whom he most closely identified.
Yuan Hongdao was also able to sum up the primary characteristic of Xu
W ei's poetry with one word—the same word Zhang Han used to describe
Daigaku Bungakubu, 1974).
7SChou Chih-p'ing, Yuan Hung-tao and the Kung-an School., 75.
76See Li Zhi, "Tongxin shuo," in Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun xuan,
Vol. 3,1 1 7 -6 . This opposition is also seen in other Ming writers like Tang Shunzhi
(1507-60) who claimed a great writer "has never set pen to paper nor read aloud in
order to learn how to write a composition, but relies simply on his own feelings.
His works might be crude and unadorned but they definitely do not contain affectations
or stale cliches and hackneyed expressions." (In Chou Chih-p'ing, Yuan Hung-tao
and the Kung-an School, 15-16)
395
Yang Shen —"qi" [strange].77 Not only Yuan H ongdao's poetic
sensibilities, but even his self image is very close to Yang Shen’s. In a
passage strikingly evocative of Yang Shen's description of the ancient
plum, Yuan says he himself is "like an old tree root in the mountains,"
useless and ugly... "However, there are refined people with extraordinary
insights and interests who would appreciate its ancient and plain look
and would take it to a mountain retreat and use it as decoration."78
Yuan's worth is found in his connection with the ancients which, strikingly,
is valued in purely aesthetic terms. Yuan sees him self as a refined
aesthete who loves the ancient, most suitable in the guise of the retired
scholar.
Yuan's refined sensibilities and clear dislike of anything vulgar,
that is, smacking of merchants and other lower classes, is most apparent
in his prose works. Yuan was a master of the informal essay (.xiaopinwen
d^pn^:), a literary genre popular among literati of the late Ming. Chih-p'ing
Chou's characterization of the attitude of xiaopinwen writers as favoring
the substitution of aesthetic for utilitarian standards is especially germane
here. In one sense, it shows the substitution of the literary standards of
Yang Shen for those of Wang Yangming—xiaopinwen was written for
the palate, not the stomach. X iaopinw en then, also represents the
separation of morality and the word in late Ming culture. Craig Clunas
mentions the fact that Yuan wrote a xiaopinwen for the connoisseur
called Pingshi [The History of Vases]. He does not comment on
the work, perhaps because it turns out not to be about vases at all, and
’’Ibid., 19.
’^Translated in ibid., 97.
396
Clunas' interest is on material culture. Symptomatic of the shift in
emphasis from things to their manipulation which I mentioned earlier,
the work is really about how one should arrange and display flowers in
an elegant manner and is a perfect example then of the celebration of the
aesthetic. We might add that Zheng Zengyi claims it is also extremely
revealing of the man who wrote it, "indicative of his outlook on life and
mode of living."79 In the first section of the work, Yuan discusses the
kinds of flowers which should be used for decoration and in doing so
provides a wonderful concrete example of Bourdieu's point, echoed by
Clunas, that asserting difference in things is to assert difference in people:
Although they (flowers) may be obtained from nearby, never

dare to spill over into common varieties. If [appropriate]
flowers are lacking, one would rather fill it (the vase) with
boughs of cypress and stems of bamboo. And although
these may not be the old and virtuous men, they still have
classical deportment. How can we allow commoners of the
market-places and the well-heads to sully the society of
worthies, or keep the absurdity of the fake scholar-recluse
Huangfu [Xizhi]?80
In making distinctions concerning flowers, Yuan tells us the kind of

vulgar people we should avoid, and especially, avoid being. A concern
for authenticity is also foregrounded. The fake scholar-recluse, although
outwardly appearing to conform to standards of elegance, is really to be
classed with those of the well-heads and the market-places. The Jin
Dynasty History records that emperor Hengxuan despaired that in his
79Dictionary of Ming Biography, Vol 2,1637.
^ u a n Hongdao, Pingshi, lb, in Shuofu sanzhong [Tales from within the

City Walls], 9 Vols., Tao Zongyi, compiler (reprint; Shanghai: Shanghai guji
chubanshe), 46.40.
397
day there were no scholar-recluses as in former times. He therefore paid
Huangfu Xizhi a stipend and had him play the part of a recluse and
refuse all appointments that the emperor offered him. Not only was
Huangfu not a genuine recluse, but pretended to be one for profit. Yuan's
injunctions remind us of Wen Zhenheng warning his readers not to let
their parrots hear the chatter by the well-heads and in the market-places.
Indeed, flowers, like parrots, should not be exposed to such things because,
as Yuan says in the section entitled "Pure Connoisseurship": "All lewd
and vulgar language is deeply detested by the flower spirits".81 Yuan
Hongdao even goes so far as to urge readers not to use common well
water for their plants. One should seek a pure and refined source away
from urban pollution. Yuan urges Beijing residents, for instance, to use
water from Biyun Temple at the foot of the Western Hills.82 Similarly,
elegant plants should not be handled by common hands, for instance
when plants are washed to remove the ubiquitous Beijing dust:
Do not entrust washing to common servants or coarse maids.

Plums are best washed by a scholar-recluse. Cherry-apples
are best washed by a guest of manifest elegance. Peonies
are best washed by a nicely made-up young woman.
Pomegranates are best washed by a beautiful maid. M ufei
[?] are best washed by a pure and intelligent boy. Lotuses
are best washed by a Daoist. Chrysanthemums are best
washed by one who loves the ancient and the strange. Lamei
[Chimonanthus fragrans] are best washed by a pure, thin
monk.83
81Ibid., 7b-8a.
“ Ibid., 3a-b. Wen Zhenheng similarly warns that well water is too turbid
for use in cooking, but says it may be used for watering and washing plants. See his
Zhangwu zhi, 3.151.
83Pings hi, 5b.
398
Again we see the association between the plum and reclusion found in
Yang Shen, although in this case we are made conscious of the fact that
reclusion is not opposed to government service or worldly affairs, but
the coarse individuals and vulgar habits associated with population
centers.84 And of course the pairing of "ancient" and "strange" is already
familiar to us as the qualities favored by the Ming literati connoisseur.
Once again, elegance, beauty, the ancient, and the strange are to be
pursued and the common and the coarse avoided. It may be noted that
section seven of Pingshi is pointedly entitled "Avoiding Vulgarity." In
addition notice again how fine the line between elegance and vulgarity
is: The lotus is of course symbolic of the Buddha, yet to have a Buddhist
wash the lotus would be much too common an association.
L ate M ing G ardens: E rasure of the U rban
If late Ming elite culture can be defined as the pursuit of the

aesthetic and the elegant, the literati garden was then its most prominent
concrete expression. In the garden we also see encapsulated many of
the larger social and political trends which impacted that culture. As
symbols of status which were immovable and inextricably connected to
the land, gardens were a manifestation of how local forms of social and
cultural expression had come to eclipse the capital in the maintenance of
^For Yuan Hongdao's discussion of recluses as naturally having qu, or the

innate sensibiliteis necessaruy for the writer, see his "Shu Chen Zhengfu huixin ji,"
in Yuan Zhonglang quanji, Vol. 1, l.la-2a.
399
elite identity. In the biographies of great garden-builders like Qi Biaojia,
retirement from government service is marked by initiating construction
of the garden. Joanna Handlin Smith in her treatment of Ming gardens
has pointed out: "One dominant image of the garden (whether conforming
to reality or not) stressed withdrawal from social and political affairs."85
The garden thus fused the two cornerstones of late Ming elite identity:
the literatus as connoisseur of high culture, yet with appropriately detached
comportment, in the guise of the scholar-recluse. At the center of Qi
Biaojia's garden, literally detached from society and surrounded by a
wall, was the scholar's studio built on a secluded mountain-top in the
interior of the garden. Not that the solitary scholarly life was necessarily
pursued. Rather, like the entire garden itself, the studio was a statement
of the owner's aesthetic cultivation directed toward other local elites
who shared Qi Biaojia's social station and cultural sensibilities. Smith
has stressed the social significance of gardens, that they "expressed the
interests of men competing for social influence."86 In this sense, Qi
Biaojia did not build his garden for himself, but for others, for the role
of the garden as a determinate of social and cultural status was only
fulfilled when the garden was shown. While the garden was made to
show to others, however, its surrounding wall and carefully guarded
gate functioned expressly to keep most people out. Admission to the
garden itself was a sign of status, adding significance to Smith's description
of the garden as "a social space personally controlled."87 Through the
8SHandlin Smith, "Gardens in Ch'i Piao-chia's Social World: Wealth and

Values in Late-Ming Kiangnan,", 64
“ Ibid., 69.
"Ibid., 72.
400
garden, the owner was not only able to convey status upon himself, but
to confirm or deny the status of others as well.
Qi Biaojia the garden connoisseur visited over 200 gardens in his
area, recording Ms observations in a catalogue he named "ResearcWng
the Ancient" [Kaogu].88 Despite the title, it dealt with contemporary
gardens and owners, the reference to "ancient" reflecting the elegance
and high cultural value of the garden, as well as Qi's sensibilities as a
connoisseur. When Qi admired individual gardens Ms aesthetic sensibility
directed Ms attention to certain aspects of garden design. "What caught
his attention were not horticultural details—which could easily be
duplicated-but the scenic views attached to each spot."89 Again, anyone
with m ere wealth could afford to purchase the requisite garden
paraphernalia. The design of the garden itself, however, demanded an
aesthetic sensibility. TMs is why Qi and other literati like Wang SMzhen
were so intimately involved in the design and construction of their own
gardens, because the garden became the representation of their own
refined aesthetic vision. As a connoisseur, Qi naturally took greatest
pleasure in gardens which afforded something "strange," a unique
perspective or an unusual juxtaposition of elements.90
W e normally think of the late Ming garden as tucked away
beMnd a narrow alley in urban Suzhou. While there were many of
these, it is important to point out that most gardens were built in the
countryside. We may ask why literati would build gardens in the middle
“ Ibid., 67.
“ Ibid., 70.
“ Ibid., 71.
401
of beautiful countryside. It is an important question. Smith is on the
right track by focusing on what is absent from the garden—the larger
political and social order is literally shut out. What we need to add to
Smith's characterization is the withdrawal from urban life. If the economic
reality of the late Ming dynasty was that wealthy gentry were migrating
to the cities, the centers of their new mercantile operations, the dominate
cultural aesthetic of the elite class feigned to move in the opposite
direction. This is reminiscent of John Huizinga's characterization of the
culture of the Middle Ages as a veil of beauty and nobility constructed
in order to hide an ugly reality which was its diametric opposite.91 The
similarity in the late Ming is striking, for it is precisely the traces of the
urban which are the source of anxiety for late Ming elites, and though a
creation made possible by wealth made in urban markets, the garden
becomes the veil hiding reality. The non-urban character of the garden
was often made explicit. For instance, Qi Biaojia stated: "Every place
in my Yue [Shaoxing] has beautiful scenery ( shanshui), but one cannot
get at it from the within the market gates."92 The denial of the urban
applies equally to the urban garden in which it was vital that "visitors
forgot that it was in the city."93
The urban was denied, not merely because it was not beautiful, of
course, but because it was the site of profit-making and merchant activity.
W hen Liu Zongzhou denounced the ledgers of merit and demerit for
9,See Johan Huizinga, The Waning o f the M iddle Ages: A Study o f the
Forms o f Life, Thought, and Art in France and the Netherlands in the XTVth and
XVth Centuries (London: Edwin Arnold, 1967), especially Chapter 2.
92Handlin Smith, "Gardens in Ch'i Piao-chia's Social World: Wealth and

Values in Late-Ming Kiangnan,", 70.
Îbid., 65.
402
encouraging a desire for profit, he was reenunciating a deeply ingrained
bias against overt profit-making and the coveting of wealth in literati
culture. This bias in the form of an anti-market and anti-urban mentality
was of course common among Chen Xianzhang and his disciples. In
the late Ming, Chen Zhixi’s warning never to set foot in a city market
actually is following familiar pathways in this regard.94 The indictments
of both Grand Secretary Yan Song and the Grand Secretary Zhang
Juzheng centered on the charge that they hoarded wealth. The negative
attitudes toward wealth in the late Ming are also reflected in the malevolent
character of the popular God of Wealth at the time,95 and once more
indicate that an "economic logic" of the merchant class had yet to supplant
the anti-profit "Mencian logic" of the literati.96
If gardens were a denial of the site of profit-making, they were
however an overt celebration of extravagant spending. Joanna Handlin
Smith is hard-put to explain why Qi Biaojia, a student of Liu Zongzhou,
would indulge in such excessive expenditure which his garden demanded,
besides his giving in to an unstoppable urge—a "craving" (pi 0 ) . 97 It
94See Brokaw's quote from his "Complete Book o f Exhorations and

Admonitions," in Brokaw, The Ledgers o f M erit and Demerit: Social Change and
M oral Order in Late Imperial China, 111.
9SRichard Van Glahn tells us the god of wealth in late Ming Jiangnan was
"an embodiment of humanity's basest vices, greed and lust..." He argues, however,
that at this time the god of wealth was in the process of becoming a more benevolent
and positive figure. See his "The Enchantment of Wealth: The God Wutong in the
Social History of Jiangnan," Harvard Journal o f Asiatic Studies 51(December
1991), 653.
^The terms "economic logic" and "Mencian logic" were coined by Timothy
"The Merchant Network in 16th Century China: A Discussion and Translation of
Zhang Han's 'On Merchants,'" 182.
97Handlin Smith, "Gardens in Ch'i Piao-chia's Social World: Wealth and

Values in Late-Ming Kiangnan,",60.
403
may be noted, however, that spending was the opposite of profit-making,
again making the garden the reverse of the city. It is striking the way Qi
Biaojia talks about spending his last penny on his garden. Hardly repentant,
he makes it sound as if going bankrupt because of his garden is a point
of pride. I think it was. For him, his garden and his extravagant
expenditures were a public display of the rejection of m ercantile
sensibilities and felicity to higher literati values.
The V ulgarization of Late M ing Elite C ulture
There is an apparent disjunction between an elite society fixated

on the determination of status and an increasing interest on the part of
those elites in common cultural forms. It may be argued that the rising
elite interest in aspects of culture associated with the common m an-songs,
drama, and vernacular literature-was an expression of deep-seated cultural
biases and a continuation of earlier elite practices. The value of rustic
simplicity bore the sanction of the ancient sages and throughout history
provided marginalized literati with a sense of meaning and value despite
the hardships of marginalization and exile. More specifically for the
early and mid Ming, the numerous cases of literati-tumed-farmer, and
the rustic affectations of Wu Yubi, Chen Xianzhang and their associates,
helped make the simplicity of the common man a noble alternative,
especially given the perception of simplicity as an effective antidote to
degenerate elite culture in the capital and urban areas. More to the point
as far as vernacular literature is concerned, the growing suspicion of a
404
hypocritical literati language overburdened by style and unable to convey
moral truth appeared to make the language of the common man a legitimate
tool, indeed perhaps the only viable alternative, for moral expression.
Interest in the vernacular is also most certainly tied to a Northern literary
aesthetic favoring simplicity in style and directness of expression. Since
both the language of the ancients and the language of the common man
were considered simple and direct, it is perhaps not surprising that late
Ming interest in popular songs and drama can also be traced to the
influence of the Former Seven Masters. We have already noted Li
Mengyang's praise of the genuine character of songs of the common
man, though we hasten to add the lack of common speech in his own
poetry. In addition we should reiterate that two other Masters hailing
from the North, Wang Jiusi and Kang Hai, were collectors and writers
of popular songs as well as dramatists. In the case of all three men, it is
also significant that their views on the value of popular language and
literature were fostered during a period of political marginalization. We
have already discussed Li Mengyang's rocky career. Kang Hai and
Wang Jiusi, both implicated in the misrule of Liu Jin, were subsequently
dismissed from office and lived the rest of their lives in seclusion in
Shaanxi. As well, the typical author of vernacular fiction in the late
Ming normally turned to literature after political setbacks, usually after
failing the higher levels of the civil service examinations.98
One direct link between the Former Seven Masters and the world
of late Ming popular literature was Li Kaixian. A Northerner from
Shandong, it is said that Li's work on drama and songs was directly
R o b e r t E. Hegel, The Novel in Seventeenth-Century China (New York:

Columbia University Press, 1981), 15.
405
inspired by a visit he made to Kang Hai and Wang Jiu si." In fact he
later wrote a book on Southern song lyrics (sanqu ffcft) with Wang
Jiusi. Li's enthusiasm for the language of the common man is confirmed
by the title of another collection of lyrics he authored, "Captivating
Songs from the Market-Place and the Well-Head" (Shijing yanci Tfr#fS
P J ). In his preface to the work he no less directly exalts the language of
the common man, claiming that in these songs, "language and intention
come straight from the lungs and liver without added ornamentation."
Li then continues by invoking Li Mengyang's startling claim: "Genuine
poetry exists only among the common people."100
In the late Ming, a preference for simple and direct language
appears in the South as well. For instance we find the old fear that
ornate language only obscures meaning expressed by Ling Mengchu
'MW (1580-1644) a prolific Southern fiction writer and dramatist.101 The
case for language which directly conveyed intention also became part of
the continuing polemic against fugu poetics in which the authority of
ancient language was undermined. For instance, Yuan Zongdao advocated
common language in the authoritative name of linguistic clarity. He
suggested that what we now consider ancient language was common in
ancient times: "How do we know that what is incomprehensible to modem
people was not the street talk of ancient times?"102 Yet this penchant for
99Indiana Companion to Traditional Chinese Literature, 540.
looLi Kaixian, "Shijing yanci xu", Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun xuan,
85.
I01Hanan, The Chinese Vernacular Story (Cambridge: Harvard University

Press, 1981), 147.
102Chou Chih-p'ing, Yuan Hung-tao and the Kung-an School., 29.
406
common language was found in the Latter Seven Masters as well as the
Former. Many people thought it plausible that Wang Shizhen was in
fact the author of the vernacular novel Jin Ping Mei. O f course this odd
juxtaposition of archaist sentiments and popular tastes was already well
within the Archaist tradition. We should mention that the elite connoisseur
and Archaist Tu Long was a dramatist as well.
Still, the question remains as to why common language and popular
literary genres were the object of such keen interest in an age marked by
anxiety of social position and the pursuit of elegance in order to maintain
or advance social identity. In the case of vernacular fiction, however,
the use of vulgar language did not signify an erosion of class distinctions
in the late Ming, for the vernacular form was also co-opted into the elite
cultural game. It has already been pointed out that despite the use of
common spoken speech, vernacular literature was written by and for
elites. The true social colors of the authors of vernacular fiction are
exposed in their irrepressible penchant for versification and classical
literary language normally prominently displayed in all vernacular works.
And while authors set elegant verse and crude vernacular side by side in
the same work, it is probably most important to point out the effort to
keep them separate. This is true for writers like Li Kaixian as well.
Although he claims that "poetry" shi i t resides among the common
people, he really means ci IhJ or song lyrics. In another collection of
songs Li says: "As for ci and shi, the intention is the same but the style
is different. Shi travels far and has residual flavor. Ci is straight-forward
and not difficult to understand."103 The distinction here is between
103Li Kaixian, "Xiye chunyou ci xu," Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun
xuan, 89.
407
language which is obtuse and profound and that which is simple and
direct. Li is adept at both, and he clearly knows the difference. From
his description as well we know they should not be confused with each
other.
Andrew Plaks provides some extremely interesting observations
concerning popular songs written by elites. He reminds us that these
were not popular songs per se, but "literati exercises in the imitation of
popular song."104 Rather than language "straight from the lungs and
liver," in other words, Ming poetics was a "highly self-conscious cultural
activity" betraying "forced affectation."105 This was true for drama and
fiction as well. Although most writers o f vernacular literature were
Southerners, they almost uniformly avoided Southern dialect speech
patterns, and instead wrote in a Northern dialect not entirely their own,
that is, affected. The notion that both literary elegance and vulgarity are
equally elite affectations can be sensed from Li Kaixian's observations
on the study of songs. In the beginning, he says, one is afraid one's
songs are not elegant (buwen T 'jt), but after a long while, one fears they
are not coarse (busu T ^ ) . 106 It is telling that according to Li one must
"study" (xue Ig) in order to write popular songs as well as classical
poetry, neither one of which is considered by him as a product of
spontaneous expression. Elegance and vulgarity as elite affectation were
both measures of learning and skill and thus, oddly perhaps, could become
equally approbatory terms. For instance Li praises the ci poetry of a
l04Plaks, Four Masterworks o f the Ming Novel, 40.
I0SIbid., 39.
106Li Kaixian, "Shijing yanci youxu", Guo Shaoyu, Zhongguo lidai wenlun
xuan, 88.
408
friend of his, saying, "vulgarity and elegance are both complete" (su ya
ju bei « M ) . 107
Similar to the more elite morality books in the late Ming which
were modeled on earlier prototypes meant for more general consumption,
late Ming fiction 'turned the popular vernacular story into a literati cultural
form. In the process, vernacular fiction underwent an important
transformation. The plots and characters of the stories remained much
the same, but the fiction written by elites, according to Andrew Plaks,
came to have an "ironic focus."108Works of "irony" demand a sophisticated
readership even though they might be written in simple vernacular
language. This tendency toward irony may also explain why dramatic
works of the late Ming tended to be written for literate readers rather
than for performance. An example of a dramatic work meant to be read
by fellow elites who could appreciate the irony is Kang Hai's zaju play
Dongguo xiansheng wujiu zhongshan lang (Mr.
Dongguo Mistakenly Rescues a W olf on Central M ountain).109 It is
ostensibly a story about a hapless scholar who helps a wolf hide from a
hunter. Instead of responding with gratitude though, once the danger
has passed the wolf announces that he will make the scholar his next
meal. It appears that the play is actually a satire aimed at Li Mengyang.
Kang Hai, the hapless scholar, approached Liu Jin in order to save Li
Mengyang from execution. Due to this, Kang Hai was charged with
107"Xiye chunyou ci xu," ibid., 89.
108Plaks, Four Masterworks o f the Ming Novel, 49.
,09This does not mean the play was not also a popular performance piece. In
fact it is still perfomed today. For an English translation of the play, see William
Dolby, trans., Eight Chinese Plays from the 13th Century to the Present (New
York: Columbia University Press, 1978), 93-102.
409
complicity with the eunuch regime in the wake of Liu Jin's downfall. Li
Mengyang, in turn, did nothing to help him in his hour of need. One of
the reasons Wang Shizhen was believed to be the author of Jin Ping Mei
is that it was a veiled satire on the corruption of those in power, and
Wang's hatred of Yan Song and Zhang Juzheng was well-known.110 In
sum then, even though drama and fiction were written in simple language,
they were hardly direct. In fact they share the same duplicitous character
with the literary language so distrusted by Ming Taizu.
If vernacular literature was not valued for its plain and direct
language, then we may ask why it was valued. To answer this question
I think it is necessary to consider late Ming vernacular literature in the
context of the culture of connoisseurship and commodification in late
Ming society. And here I do not mean vernacular literature as products
created for financial gain—this does not appear to be the motivation of
most writers-but nevertheless as products to be consumed by elite society.
I would argue that vernacular literature was appreciated for aesthetic
reasons, and as such became another object of elite connoisseurship.
Consider the collection Xianqing ouji fSfifffiaB (Where Idle Thoughts
Happen to Lodge) by the late Ming and early Qing dramatist and fiction
writer Li Yu (1611-1680). It is a typical book of connoisseurship,
with notes on such interests as landscape gardening (Li owned a
considerable garden), architecture, curios, food, flow ers, etc..
U0For an in-depth discussion of the Jin ping mei as veiled satire against the
corruption of the court, see Catherine Carlitz, The Rhetoric o f Chin P'ing Mei.
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986) For a discussion o f the issues
surrounding the author of the novel, and a refutation that Wang Shizhen composed
the book, see Wu Han, Jin ping mei yu Wang Shizhen: qi zhuzuo shidai j i qi shehui
beijing [The Jin ping mei and Wang Shizhen: Its period of composition and social
background] (Hong Kong: South Sky Book Co., 1967).
410
Significantly, however, a large portion of the book is reserved for Li's
discussion of dram a.111 This suggests that Li considered his interest in
drama as commensurate with his interest in these other elegant pastimes,
an attitude not uncommon in the late Ming. W e should recognize that
vernacular fiction and other common literary forms were attractive to
lilrrati-writers and comnoisseur-readers because they were recognized as
manifestations of considerable literary skill, and therefore could be
enjoyed for much the same reason as a piece of highly prized porcelain,
for both were products of gifted artisans. In this regard we should also
keep in mind that it was truly a feat for a literati writer to capture
perfectly the language and manner of the likes of Li Kui in Shuihu
zhuan, the literati antithesis. I believe this also may explain why
verisimilitude was so prized by commentators of vernacular fiction like
Li Zhi, not because of its adept mimicry of reality per se -n e v e r a
priority in Chinese art-b u t because it was a measure of the literary skill
of the author.112
In the competitive consumer climate of late Ming society where
changes in fads and fashion were spurred on by status accumulation and
economic imperative, novelty, or the strange, became an especially high
priority for the literati consumer/connoisseur. Not that vernacular stories
were particularly novel in themselves, after all they had been circulating
for hundreds of years. However, when outrageously rude characters
uttering coarse language became the products of the literati pen (and
UIHegel, The Novel in Seventeenth-Century China, 54.
m Li Zhi wrote Li Zhuowo xiansheng piping Zhongyi shuihu zhuan [Li Zhi's
Critical Comment on the Water Margin]. His line-by-line comments can be found
in Shuihu zhuan huiping ben [ Water Margin, with Collected Annotations], 2 Vols.
Compiled by Chen Xizhong et al. (Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe, 1987).
411
printed in deluxe editions complete with illustrations), that was novel
indeed! The pursuit of novelty also explains why Ming fiction becomes
increasingly ribald as the dynasty wears on, such as in the erotic fiction
by Li Yu for whom novelty was a primary artistic standard. Although
written in common language and often portraying common folk, Li Yu
says of his own writing: "None of my poems, essays, and miscellaneous
other writings has ever followed the common line; they have never
filled the usual mold."113 Novelty, even crude novelty, could never
stand accused of being "common." It is telling that Lu Yu lists novelty
and elegance as equally valid aesthetic standards.114 In the context of
elite culture, what was normally considered coarse or base could also
become valued given an aesthetics of novelty.
In a juxtaposition even more striking than the dram a and the
elegant artifacts of elite culture listed side by side in Li Yu's work, Yuan
Hongdao penned a hierarchy of pleasures in which he lists in descending
order various occupations to be enjoyed by a man of his considerable
social station.115 Surprisingly, he lists as his fifth and last happiness
becoming a beggar. This apparent reversal of sensibilities and embracing
of the vulgar is also displayed in Yuan's poetics: "I casually pick up
slang and street talk, and I have no inclination to copy from the pre-Qin
[literature]."116 In fact Yuan occasionally sounds as if he has adopted
mLi Yu quanji, 1:19, Hegel, The Novel in Seventeenth-Century China, 54.
‘“ Regarding the decorations and furnishings o f a house, Li Yu says the

important considerations are "refinement," "novelty," and "elegance." See the passage
translated by Hanan in his Chinese Vernacular Story, 166.
“ sYuan Hongdao, "Gong Weichang xiansheng," Yuan Zhonglang quanji,

20.2a.
U6Chou Chih-p'ing, Yuan Hung-tao and the Kung-an School, 54.
412
the strategy of Li Mengyang in rejecting the language of the literati and
turning to the language of the common people as poetic source. Apparently
following Li Mengyang and Li Kaixian, he exclaims: "At present, there
is no true literature; genuine poetry can only be found in the streets and
lanes."117 Yuan strove, at times, to express this point in his own writing,
for throughout his works are displays of common, even quite crude and
vulgar, language.118 Yuan was also an avid reader of vernacular fiction,
and in fact was the first scholar to write a commentary on the vernacular
novel Jin Ping Mei.119
How are we to reconcile an avid interest in linguistic coarseness
with the aesthetics of a man who strove to "avoid vulgarity"? The fact
that vulgar speech and the possibility of becoming a beggar were novel
and fresh certainly constitutes part of the attraction. Therefore we must
recognize that, despite the rhetorical similarity, Yuan Hongdao's
sensibilities were far removed from those of Li Mengyang. Yuan was
not making a moral statement when he advocated the use of common
speech, but an aesthetic one, and thus his concerns were not with the
simple and direct character of common speech-this is the fixation of
moralist who insist on the edifying function of literature. Aesthetic
standards replaced both utilitarian and moral standards for Yuan Hongdao.
For Yuan, this was not necessarily an aesthetics of elegance,
however, but one of pleasure. Chih-p'ing Chou tells us that "Yuan
Hongdao's philosophy of life was basically hedonistic. Anything that
"^Translated in ibid., 77.
ll8For an example, see ibid., 103.

"Tbid., 55.
413
brought pleasure to life, as far as he was concerned, was morally sound."120
Like Yang Shen, Yuan's aestheticism was highly sensual, almost as if
practiced in defiance of Wang Yangming and his doctrines. We are at
once struck by the importance Yuan accords physical pleasures, ranking
them at the top of his hierarchy: "One should experience all the colors
with one's eyes, all sounds with one's ears, all delicacies with one's
body, and interesting conversations with one's mouth. This is the first
happiness."121 Typically for Yuan, sensual pleasures are listed side-by-side
literary ones: The third happiness is having 10,000 rare books, gather
with brilliant friends, criticize scholars of the Tang and Song, and finish
a great work of the current era.122 I suggest that reading and writing for
Yuan could encompass the extremes of refinement and vulgarity precisely
because both were a source of pleasure. The notion that reading and
writing should above else afford pleasure was particularly applicable to
vernacular fiction. It is striking to what extent Yuan Hongdao’s
sensibilities corresponded with those of the vernacular writer Li Yu
whose aim in life, according to Patrick Hanan, was "to achieve sensory
pleasure in general and aesthetic pleasure in particular. W riting was,
itself his keenest delight."123
We have considered that literature using vulgar language could
bring pleasure to the connoisseur who may value the literary and linguistic
skills of the writer, its novelty and freshness, and the pleasure he derived
120Ibid., 97.
121Yuan Hongdao, "Gong Weichang xiansheng," 20.2b. Translated in ibid.,
98.
122Ibid.
123Hanan, The Chinese Vernacular Story, 166.
414
from reading. We should also consider that vernacular fiction provided
an even more sensual kind of pleasure. On Yuan Hongdao's part, I
believe he enjoyed the novel Jin Pin Mei not because he found it morally
edifying, as some have suggested, but because it gave him pleasure, not
unconnected with its multiple erotic scenes.124 We can find an association
between reading and writing with sensual pleasure in Yuan's writings as
well. For instance, it is also foregrounded in his notion of the importance
of p i (craving), the inner compulsion which was to the connoisseur what
liangzhi was to the moralist, and, as we may recall, also afflicted the
garden-lover Qi Biaojia. Yuan recommends four p i to the would-be
connoisseur of life: chess, sex, a special skill, and writing. By categorizing
sex and writing together as pi, Yuan underscores his view of literature
as an object of pleasure and even sensual indulgence. By the way it
does appear Yuan had a pi for sex, at one point proclaiming that he did
not want any sons, just sterile, short-lived concubines.125 We are reminded
of Yang Shen's “craving of the recluse,” his view of reading as pleasure,
and also more direct associations between the word and sensual
gratification, for instance his writing poems in return for sexual favors.
The positive association between sex and literature for Yang Shen and
Yuan Hongdao carries added significance when we consider that Wang
124Chou Chih-p'ing argues that Yuan Hongdao valued the book for its moral
teachings (Chou Chih-p'ing, Yuan Hung-tao and the Kung-an School., 5 4 ff.). In
response, I would say that it appears to be out of character for a hedonist (Chou's
own description) suddenly to turn into a moralist just when he confronts an erotic
novel. Yuan's public comments on the novel may well have been constructed so as
to provide the only plausible defense for one who enjoys reading baudy fiction.
Evidence that Yuan does not value the book necessarily for its moral worth lies in
the fact that he does not recommend the book to those seeking moral sustenance, but
to those who "enjoy drinking." (Ibid., 59.)
12SIn ibid., 100.
415
Yangming strenuously warned against both sexual and literary indulgence.
It also seems more than coincidental that Wang Yangming apparently
had ambivalent feelings about his personal sexual behavior, according
to Tu Wei-ming, even to the point of avoiding the consummation of his
marriage. We may recall too that W u Yubi also delayed sleeping with
his new bride on the pretext of returning to the capital in order to report
the marriage to his father. He, too, likely preached about the dangers of
sexual desire, for we find the following warning from his disciple, Hu
Juren: "The harm of sexual indulgence is severe. Minor [harm] is the
destruction of the body. Major [harm] is the destruction of the empire."126
For Wu Yubi, and especially Wang Yangming, the fear that
prolonged exposure to literature posed the danger of physical and spiritual
debilitation mirrored commonplace Chinese conceptions concerning the
hazards of sexual overindulgence. In fact, the physical and spiritual
dangers of sexual overindulgence becomes a major theme in late Ming
erotic fiction.127 This is ostensibly the "moral" of Jin Ping M ei as well
as one of the most explicit erotic novels of the period, Li Yu's infamous
Rou putuan (The Prayer Mat of Flesh). W hile it may seem
plausible, though in my opinion unlikely, that some moralists took delight
in Jin Ping Mei only because Ximen Qing ultimately receives retribution
for his dissolute life-style, it is not plausible to suggest the same for Rou
putuan. Although Rou putuan has exactly the same "moral," it is clear
that this conventional nod to morality takes a back seat to scene after
126Hu Juren, "Diwang shigong," Juye lu [Record of Abiding in Wariness]

(Congshu jicheng, Vols. 656-67), 4.48.
127It is striking that Yuan Hongdao's final pleasure of turning into a beggar
after indulging in a lavish and sensual lifestyle mirrors the conventional plotting of
late Ming erotic novels.
416
explicit scene of erotic exploits. These priorities were not lost on the
publishers of vernacular fiction. On the cover leaf of an early Qing
edition of Jin Ping Mei, the publishers wrote: "Even though the function
o f literature is to exhort and chastise, if it is not spicy and unrestrained,
it will not delight the eye of the reader."128
Indulgence in physical pleasures as dominant themes in vernacular
fiction helps to explain why they were a source of pleasure to literati
writers and readers, especially those who shared the sensibilities of Yuan
Hongdao and Li Yu. Literati elites could also indulge their cultural
appetites without fear of damaging an elite social identity. As suggested
by Yuan Hongdao's listing of beggar alongside scholar and connoisseur
in his hierarchy of pleasures, what was coarse or base could also function
as a mark of distinction and an alternate expression of elite identity.
This is connected with the appeal of vulgarity in an aesthetics of novelty.
The appeal of the vulgar was enhanced however in the peculiar Ming
cultural climate where competition for the pursuit of elegance made
"elegance" itself "vulgar" in the eyes of established elites. For example
Shen Chunze, a close associate of Wen Zhenheng, wrote:
Recently the sons of the rich and one or two dullards and
persons of mean status have abrogated to themselves the
status of "aficionados." At each attempt at connoisseurship
they utter some vulgarity, besmirching anything which come
into their hands with their wanton fumbling and grabbing,
to an utter pitch of vileness. A gentleman of true tastes,
talents and sentiment thus takes vows not to even mention
"elegance." Ah, it has already gone too far!129
!28A facsimile of the coverleaf along with Robert Hegel's translation appear
in his The Novel in Seventeenth-Century China, coverleaf.
417
W hen "elegance" comes within reach of vulgarites who manage to grab
it, it loses its effectiveness as a mark of high culture. This is why in a
culture of anxiety over social identity, what distinguished authentic elites
from imitative social climbers was their air of detachment,130 for this
showed that they did not require the outward expressions of elite culture
to claim their rightful status. For merchants and others detachment was
perhaps the most difficult elite affectation to acquire, for they indeed
depended on the manipulation of cultural signs of elegance to establish
an elite social persona. Thus the identification of overt displays of
elegance with "vulgarity" was a natural step. For the same reason I
would argue that vulgarity became an alternate badge of elite social
status. By actively embracing the vulgar, Yuan Hongdao in effect raises
the stakes in this cultural game one more ante. He is detached from the
language of the ancients and the elegant affectations of the elites to the
point of forsaking them entirely, and even embracing their opposite.
Yuan feels secure in his move, for only true elites would dare to indulge
freely in vulgarity. Once again, I cannot help but invoke the words of
Yang Shen, here also defending his own interest in popular songs:
The gentleman well acquaints himself with the words and

deeds of old so that he may cultivate his morality. With his
foundation already established, it is permissible to search
among fodder and kindling and to pick from among the
radishes and turnips.131
129Translated in Clunas, Superfluous Things: M aterial Culture and Social

Status in Early Modern China, 74.
130For a discussion of "detachment" as a trope in late Ming connoiseurship

works, see ibid., 12.
131“Gujinyan xu,” in Wang Wencai, Sheng'an zhushu xuba [Prefaces and
418
The fact that one of Yang Shen's great admirers was Li Zhi may also be
relevant here. Li Zhi had a similar view on the ability of superior
individuals to ignore conventional norms, and as is well-known to have
done so him self.132 In fact Yang Shen, Li Zhi and Yuan Hongdao's
poetic idol, Xu Wei, were all accused of immoral conduct133 Bourdieu
has argued that what he calls "the pure aesthetic" is "an ethos of elective
distance from the necessities of the natural and social world," apparent
when ethical transgression becomes a purposeful artistic act.134 Able to
depart elite domains and enter vulgar territory with impunity was itself a
mark of true cultivation for Yang Shen, Li Zhi, Yuan Hongdao, and Li
Yu. In the context of the late Ming, however, amidst keen cultural
completion for elite status, such venturing into the vulgar also became a
successful cultural strategy. Simply, pretenders to elite social status
could not imitate such a cultural move. Their anxiety that any hint of
vulgarity may expose them as imposters prevented them from any overt
flirtation with that which they strove to keep hidden. More than an ante
really, Yuan Hongdao's embracing of vulgarity was the winning move
in a cultural chess match.
Postscripts to Yang Shen’s Works] (Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1985),

187-8.
l32Cambridge History o f China, Vol. 7,551.
133Some accounts o f Yang Shen parading drunk in the market-place place

him in the company of women. Illicit interaction with women was one of the
charges brought against Li Zhi when he was arrested and imprisoned. Xu Wei
murdered his wife.
b o u r d ie u , Distinctions, 5.
419
New S tandards in the Late Ming
Late Ming connoisseurship culture and the accompanying wave

of sensual indulgence was not without its critics, especially among the
D oeglin partisans. Moralists associated with the legacy of W ang
Yangming like Liu Zongzhou cautioned against late Ming excess. In
his Renpu Li warns against "following one's desires."135 According to
Liu this includes such vices as fondness for antiquities and fondness for
painting and calligraphy. He is also concerned about the more vulgar
habits of literati, admonishing them against watching plays, composing
songs, and, of all things, "practicing the speech of the market-place
gp.1,136 We could very well find a similar exhortation in a book of
connoisseurship. Deserved or not, those leading the moral backlash
chose as the culprit the mind unencumbered by external restraints. The
association of complete dependence on the internal mental standard of
liangzhi with moral laxity is clear in the work of Liu's disciple and
spokesman for Wang Yangming's doctrines in the early Qing, Huang
Zongxi. Huang Zongxi sums up the position of Wang Ji: "Those who
could believe in liangzhi could come and go by themselves, as the bead
travels across the abacus, without need of any control, keeping naturally
from waywardness." Huang is critical of Wang on this point, and then
goes on to quote Tang Shunzhi to the effect that W ang Ji acted without
restraint and moral discernment.137 We cannot help but be struck by his
135Liu Zongzhou, Renpu, 1 la.
136Ibid„ 15b; 16a; 17a.
tr a n s la te d in Julia Ching, ed., Records o f Ming Scholars, 116-7.
420
analogy of the abacus, reinforcing the view that mercantile sensibilities
had infected the doctrine of liangzhi, as it provided merchants with
convenient moral dispensation for a life devoted to profit and social
advancement. Indeed, in the writings of Donglin partisans, admonitions
against the dangers of unrestrained desire like, "Depending on emotions
and following desires is the deep pit entrapping people today,"138 turn
easily to injunctions against profit-seeking: "If a person only eradicates
the root of profit, then he will be a sage or worthy."139
The anti-mercantile rhetoric of Donglin partisans comes as no
surprise when we consider that many of those who strove to erect new
codes in a highly aestheticized Ming culture had Donglin affiliations.
We have mentioned Wang Shizhen's opposition to Zhang Juzheng. Dong
Qichang was a Donglin affiliate and he was also good friends to the
Yuan brothers, especially Yuan Zongdao. Wen Zhenheng participated
in a Suzhou demonstration resisting attempts by eunuchs of Eastern
Depot to seize a local official.140 Wen Zhenheng's brother, Wen Zhenmeng,
was the Donglin partisan to reach the highest office, serving as grand
secretary for three months. He also owned one of the most famous
gardens in Suzhou, the Medicine Patch. We should note as well that
adjoining the grounds of the Donglin Academy were ten mu of garden
purchased by Gu Xiancheng (1550-1612).141 This was an
138Shi Menglin, "Lunxue," in Huang Zongxi, Mingru xuean [The Records of

Ming Scholars] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985), Vol. 2,1473.
,39Wu Zhongluan, "Xiazhou suibi," ibid., 1494.
140Clunas, Superfluous Things: Material Culture and Social Status in Early

Modern China, 22.
141Busch, "The Tung-lin Academy and its Political and Philosophical

Significance," 65.
421
expression of the tastes of the members as it was also symbolic of their
rejection of the pursuit of profit, and along with the fact that the academy
was located outside the city gates of Wuxi, emphasized the pastoral and
anti-urban atmosphere. The partisans who spent time at the academy,
isolated from the world, engaged in study, and refining themselves through
abstinence, resembled the literatus secluded in his rustic studio on the
promontory of his garden.
Donglin anxiety over the destructive power of the appetites was
reflected in academy rules which directed that sacrifices be preceded by
three days abstinence from pleasures and amusement and one day of
seclusion at the academy.142 It is important to note the parallel between
discouraging spending and indulgence on the one hand and efforts to
contain social mobility on the other. Elites, as we have seen with Yuan
Hongdao, could abstain from the pleasures of high culture without
detriment to status, unlike those who depended on such displays. In this
sense, therefore, discouraging consumption was once again a social
strategy as well as a moral imperative. Gu Xiancheng, by teaching his
followers that wealth and social station should not be pursued,143 was
not only urging that the mind be rid of harmful desire, but was also in
effect reserving wealth and social station for those who already had it.
Similarly, in the statements of Gao Panlong ftSipH (1562-1626) we find
him warning against selfishness,144 and cautioning that when doing good
142Ibid., 41.
143Brokaw, The Ledgers o f Merit and Demerit: Social Change and M oral
144"The Tung-lin Academy and its Political and Philosophical Significance,"

130.
422
deeds it is important to do them without any intention of receiving
rew ard.145 In there efforts to reimpose moral standards on society, Gu
Xiancheng and Gao Panlong were articulating a reformulation of the
trope of detachment. Only the established elites could afford not to
pursue private material and social gain, and to abstain from indulgence
in the luxuries of elite life without jeopardizing their power and prestige.
The moral claim that "If a person only eradicates the root o f profit, then
he will be a sage or worthy" can be made only by one who can literally
afford to. A resurgence of Wang Yangming-like moralism then, served
new social purposes. In an age of social upheaval, the excoriation of
desire was a call for social stability and immobility, a fact also apparent
in the rhetoric of desirelessness: "The mind of man is deluded and
obstructed by desire... and because of this the enlightened Confucian
desires to take jing I f ("tranquility" or "lack of movement") as primary."146
Wang Yangming-like moralism and the rhetoric of liangzhi also
served the political purposes of the Donglin partisans. For one it helped
to bolster their moral authority vis-a-vis their political enemies in the
capital. More than that, however, liangzhi played an important role in
the Donglin challenge of the authority of the central government and
their bid for increased local power. This can be seen in their redeployment
of liangzhi as theoretically empowering the common people with an
independent moral discernment, and used to question the legitimacy of
the power of the center. In this regard, Mizoguchi provides an excellent
quote from a Donglin affiliate, Miao Changqi $PH$J (1562-1626): "The
14SBrokaw, The Ledgers o f M erit and Demerit: Social Change and M oral
146Sun Shenxing,"Wenchao," Mingru xuean, Vol. 2,1466.
423
right and wrong of the nation arises naturally from the mind of the
masses.... The ruler alone cannot control it..., and neither can the court
officials. The ignorant common people of the world control it."147 This
notion is echoed by another Donglin affiliate, Sun Shenxing MiMff
(1565-1636): "The genuine mind of the common people is the great Dao
of the ruler."148 W hether or not these men had a genuine faith in the
common man commensurate to their rhetoric, their remarks nevertheless
invoke political standards whose source is found in the political margins
beyond the capital and the court. Thus the liangzhi of the common man
was again deployed by local elites to challenge the power of the political
center—in much the same way that Wang Yangming originally used it,
with one important exception. Here the emperor is included, suggesting
a more radical reapportionment of power.
This demand for increased autonomy on the part of local elites
was most explicitly articulated by the heirs of the Donglin movement,
Huang Zongxi and Gu Yanwu in the early Qing. Lynn Struve rightly
points out that Huang's call for a more decentralized government in his
Mingyi daifang lu (translated by de Bary as "A Plan for the Prince") was
indebted to earlier Donglin thinkers.149 Huang Zongxi's and Gu Yanwu’s
call for a return to the decentralized, "feudal," political structure of
pre-Qin times was the most radical articulation of a new political order
perhaps first broached by Wang Yangming when he counseled that one
147In Mizoguchi Yuz5, Chugoku no shiso [Chinese Thought] (Tokyo: Hoso

daigaku, 1991), 129.
I48Sun Shenxing, "Shendu yi," Mingru xuean, Vol. 2,1461.
,49Lynn A. Struve, "Huang Zongxi in Context: A Reappraisal of his Major

Writings," The Journal o f Asian Studies 47(August 1988), 475.
424
should concentrate on organization on the local level rather than challenge
the power of the center in the political capital. We may argue that Gu
Yanwu's "Essay on Feudalism" was the final chapter in dynasty-long
shift in the relations of political, economic, and cultural power.150 I have
argued in this chapter that the character of elite cultural sensibilities
during the transformative period of the late Ming owes as much to Yang
Shen as to Wang Yangming. Despite their huge differences, the two
men share the credit for formulating strategies of empowerment for
those on the political margins. Wang Yangming was much more conscious
and overt in his political designs, though both men contributed to granting
literati who were not empowered by officialdom, or even disenfranchised
from the political center, tools by which they could claim cultural and
political authority. For Yang Shen, however, this was hardly intended.
In fact Yang was a great critic of any efforts to decentralize political
power and his own "Fengjian lun" [Essay on Feudalism] is diametrically
opposed to that of Gu Yanwu.
Yet, as with Wang Yangming, it would be naive to believe that
the Donglin partisans were advocating political power for the common
man. Though it was true that they did at times support the interests of
the common people, this was due to an enlightened self-interest which
sought to ameliorate injustice in the name o f social stability. Who after
all had the moral stature to determine the "genuine mind" of the common
people but the Donglin partisans themselves? A perusal of the writings
of Donglin partisans confirms that the inclinations of common people
1S0Huang Zongxi is much more explicit in calling for a return to feudalism in

order to protect from foreign invasion. His "Fengjian" is found in Huang Zongxi
quanji [Complete Works of Huang Zongxi] (Zhejiang guji chubanshe, 1985), Vol. 1,
418-20.
425
were not particularly exemplary. The desires which appeared so
threatening to Donglin literati were in fact quite common and were
associated with ordinary sensual pleasures. I think this is a fairly typical
view:
As for common people, their eyes and ears are attached to

staring and listening, the substance of their natures is attached
to feeling and recognizing. It is like someone stricken with
malaria. Even if it is dormant, he's still sick, and when it
flares up, he is completely ill.151
Although they used the rhetoric of liangzhi when it suited them, Donglin
partisans were uninterested in appropriating for them selves the
spontaneous moral inclinations common to all men. They sought instead
to exhibit their superior moral awareness which transcended the all too
common pitfall of selfish desire. And although this rhetoric was primarily
directed at the "small men" who were their political enemies, the partisans
simultaneously distinguished themselves from the common people as
well. No longer could the common man and woman be moral, or at
least not in the way the sages were. This is why Shi Menglin £ |£ S 8
(1583 j.s.), a disciple of Gu Xiancheng roundly criticized Li Zhi for
claiming that each person was a sage. The difference between a common
man and a sage, according to Shi, was like gold in a mine and refined
gold: As for gold in a mine, "One has to use great efforts at washing and
smelting, otherwise one will be unable to separate out the dirt and
rocks."152 This great stress on cultivation and refinement was perhaps
lslQian Yiben, "Guiji," Mingru xuean, Vol. 2,1440.
1S2Shi Menglin, "Lunxue," ibid., 1475.
426
the one most pervasive theme in Donglin writings. And although their
concerns were ostensibly moral, they were not unconnected to the culture
of connoisseurship in the late Ming. Just as with a refined awareness
when it comes to things, a refined moral awareness ultimately served to
distinguish the adept from the unrefined crowd, and the greater the
stress made on a lengthy and arduous process of cultivation, the more
distinguished they became.
The notion that moral cultivation could not be accomplished by
ju st anyone was reflected in the Donglin rejection of reliance on the
mind and a renewed interest in the text as moral standard. Wang
Yangming's appropriation of Lu Jiuyuan's slogan that the Six Classics
are footnotes to the mind was criticized, as was Wang's avowal to follow
the dictates of his mind even if they contradicted the words of Kongzi.153
Anticipating the criticisms of Gu Yanwu, Gao Panlong attacked the
W ang Yangming school for their over-reliance on the mind, saying:
"The defect of the Yaojiang [school of Wang Yangming] is that in the
beginning they swept away seeing and hearing in order to illumine the
mind, but in the end they relied on the mind and discarded learning."154
It is significant that Gao made these remarks in a compilation preface
for the Society for the Veneration of Literature (Chongwen hui ^ j t #
)—a group which Wang Yangming no doubt would refuse to join had he
been invited. Gu Xiancheng’s younger brother, Gu Yuncheng
(1554-1607), responding to someone who held that the emotions are
naturally regulated before their expression and it is this state of pre-arousal
1S3"The Tung-lin Academy and its Political and Philosophical Significance,"

100- 1.
1S4Gao Panlong, "Chongwen huiyu xu," Mingru xuean, Vol. 2,1423.
427
which should be the focus of mental cultivation, says that this is equivalent
to "taking the Six Classics as footnotes [to the mind]." Gu then continues:
I am afraid that once this notion becomes a habit, later

reliance on the mind will be overdone, then one is bound to
transgress and the harm done will not be minor. You are
certain to respond: "The learning of the sages and worthies
is the learning of the mind. If I rely on my mind, how can
there be any transgression?" I do not know if the mind of
Dao can be depended on, but the mind cannot be. The
mind of Dao is difficult to illumine and the human mind is
easily confused. I recently have come to believe that only
the meanings and principles of the Six Classics are of acute
importance. Each line arouses my mind of Dao, each line
awakens my human mind. If study does not enter from
here, it is not genuine study; if practical affairs do not come
from here, they are not genuine practical affairs.155
The return to the Classics can be seen as a somewhat predictable response

to a turbulent age during which traditional values and the social structures
that accompanied them had come under assault. W hat makes this retreat
to the Classics remarkable, however, is the decisive turn Donglin thinkers
took away from the ambivalence toward the word so prominent in Wang
Yangming and Song D aoxue. The writings of Donglin thinkers are
striking, in fact, for the complete absence of any mention whatsoever of
the inability of the word to convey the intention of the sages.156 As well,
lssGu Yuncheng, "Xiaobian zhai zhaji," ibid., 1472.

I56One exception I have found is in the work of Chen Longzheng IfHIE
(1585-1645). He repeats the well-known phrase by Kongzi, "I prefer not to speak"
and the notion "words do not exhaust intention." In this respect it may be noteworthy
that Chen did not share the critical perception of Wang Yangming prominent among
his Donglin colleagues (Dictionary o f Ming Biography, Vol. 1,177). Chen's discussion
of language is not sustained, however, and is equally not designed to question the
authority of the textual tradition. See his "Xueyan," Mingru xuean, Vol. 2,1500.
428
there is little indication that they saw literature as a potential source of
physical and spiritual debilitation. This apparent amnesia appears to
have been quite deliberate. For instance, Gao Panlong's remarks for the
Society for the Veneration of Literature patently ignore the reason why
W ang Yangming "swept away seeing and hearing," that is, because of
the danger of becoming mired in words. In this respect, the Donglin
partisans once again confirm the congruence of their attitudes with larger
late Ming elite cultural trends in which words became a source of pleasure
rather than pain. This congruence is also confirmed in use of the vernacular
in the writings of Donglin members. Unlike Wang Yangming who for
the most part avoided the vernacular in his philosophical writings (The
vernacular-inflected Chuanxi lu was Wang's spoken words as recorded
by his disciples), Gu Xiancheng and Gao Panlong both preferred a
semi-vernacular form of writing for their essays. At times the written
language used by Donglin partisans even appears to be straight out of a
Ming vernacular novel, Shi Menglin's "Lunwen" H j t [Discussion of
Learning] standing out as one of the most prominent examples. Could it
be that they accepted the notion that the vernacular was an adequate
vehicle for direct expression and thus by-passed the word-intention
quandary? Perhaps, but at this point we can with assurance only make
the observation that ignoring the alleged incapability of the word to
transmit intention served the purposes of the Donglin partisans.
Language and Evidential Learning
429
Donglin partisans' lack of suspicion regarding the capability of
written language brings us to an important issue in the development of
intellectual and scholarly trends from the end of Ming through the early
Qing. Though the issue of language attitudes has not received much
attention in modem scholarship, there have been some brief but fairly
influential discussions. For instance, David Nivison has written:
In short, there is in Wang [Yangming], and in thought after

him throughout the Qing, a general suspicion of "words"....
Kinds of writing which are valued are those in which there
is no attempt to state ideas: poetry and the expression of
feeling, and scholarly writing in which the writing is
completely absorbed into the data of the subject matter.
Nivison's argument is adapted by Lynn Strove in her discussion of early

Qing scholarship. She claims that in the 17th century there was a
distrust of what she calls "the concept-sealing power of the written,
transmitted word," which she also connects with the rise of evidential
learning.158 Another contemporary scholar who has tied distrust of the
word in the Ming with the rise of evidential learning is Edward Ch'ien.
He argued that Jiao Hong, a latter-day disciple of Wang Yangming, was
responsible for "restructuring Neo-Confucianism." According to Ch'ien,
at the foundation of Jiao Hong's new orientation was his ascribing to a
"monism of qi," and this in turn was somehow connected to the rise of
1S7David S. Nivison, "The Problem of 'Knowlege' and 'Action' in Chinese

Thought since Wang Yangming," in Arthur F. Wright, ed., Studies in Chinese
Thoughtfjhe American Anthropological Association, 1953), 121.
158Lynn A. Struve, "Ambivalence and Action: Some Frustrated Scholars of

the K'ang-hsi Period," in Jonathon D. Spence and John E. Wills Jr., eds., From
Ming to Qing: Conquest, Region, and Continuity in Seventeenth-Century China
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1979), 340.
430
evidential research.159 In terms of language attitudes, Ch'ien claims that
Jiao Hong's "pedagogic differences" with Wang Yangming lay in a
Chan Buddhist inspired "linguistic skepticism."160
Unfortunately Ch'ien is too interested in discovering why Jiao
Hong was a "linguistic skeptic" and therefore leaves us clueless as to the
mystery of why Jiao Hong had, in Ch'ien's words, a "sensitivity to
language" so great that it "prompted him to embark on an enquiry into
the end rhymes of ancient odes."161 An avid poet and editor of poetry
collections, Jiao was especially interested in the problem of rhyme,
uncovering ancient rhymes, and phonology. His interest in epigraphy
can also be seen in his Sushu kanwu [Vulgar Writing and Mistakes in
Printed Characters]. For a man with a scholarly bent and interest in
literature who graduated optimus in the civil service examinations and
who was so enamored of the work of Yang Shen that he compiled an
edition of his collected works, it is difficult indeed to ascribe linguistic
scepticism, let alone one greater than Wang Yangming's. In fact, Jiao
Hong redeploys some familiar analogies in ways directly contrary to
W ang Yangming, underlining his faith in the word: "To say that there
can be literature when classical learning is abandoned is [like saying
that] there can be water when the spring is abandoned."162 And: "As the
fish and the rabbit have yet to be caught, the fish trap and the rabbit
snare cannot be done away with." Thus Jiao Hong advocates a retreat
1S9Edward Ch'ien, Chiao Hong and the Restructuring o f Neo-Confucianism

in the Late Ming (New York: Columbia University Press, 1986), 30.
160Ibid., 65.
161Ibid., 122.
162In Ibid., 49.
431
from reliance on the mind and a return to trap of language. This
faith in the word is also apparent in the textual work of Jiao Hong's
associate, Chen Di (1541-1617), whose own work on the phonology
of ancient characters was influenced by Yang Shen.163 For Chen Di, it is
not the authority of the word itself that is doubted, rather it is the latter
interpretations of the word which provokes skepticism. Thus Chen
begins by doubting the commentaries and returning directly to the
Classics.164 The word then, transmits intention, though it does not easily
yield its meaning. Ultimately the answer to why Jiao Hong departed
from his erstwhile teacher's linguistic skepticism, was that his interests
largely reflected the dominant cultural trends of the late Ming.
Edward Ch'ien never discusses the relationship between qi monism
and attitudes toward language-a crucial link in any argument ascribing
a role to q i in the development of evidential research. In addition, I
suggest it is an error to take a fundamental ontological concept and
ascribe to it an equally fundamental role in the thought of an individual
or culture. This may sound legitimate to those who themselves stress
the fundamental importance of ontology, either due to ideology or more
passive cultural inheritance. For Ming Chinese, however, ontology did
not hold a particular fascination. This is not to say that interest in qi
monism was insignificant, though it hardly began with Jiao Hong. Other
scholars, for instance, see the doctrine of qi monism appearing in the
163Yang Chongwen, "Chen Di guyinxue chu zi Yang Shen'an bian" [A

Determination that Chen Di's Philology Came from Yang Shen], in Lin Qingzhang
and Jia Shunxian, eds., Yang Shen yanjiu ziliao huibian [A Collection o f Yang Shen
Research Materials] (Taibei: Academica Sinica, 1992),Vol. 2,537-47.
164See Chen Di's ”Shangshu shuyan zishu"[Preface for Annotations on the

Documents Classic] ( Siku quanshu, Vol. 64), 730b-731a.
432
Ming about 100 years earlier with Wang Tingxiang.165 Qi monism is
also found in the works of Yang Shen, where we find many of the ideas
of his friend Wang Tingxiang repeated. Knowing that Jiao Hong was
extremely familiar with Yang's works, it is plausible that he was merely
repeating too. The use of the term qi by Ming literati of course was
quite common as we have already seen. Concerning the increase in its
popularity in the late Ming, however, I think that the language of qi was
ideally suited to the culture of connoisseurship and social anxiety. Unlike
the language of li which emphasized that which was everywhere and
equally common to all, qi always involved concerns of gradation and
distinction. Qi was invoked to assess the relative quality o f things and
individuals, ranging from complete turbidity to absolute purity. Qi was
a material substance, and thus one wonders if there is a relationship
between increased interest in the term given the increasing interest in
material culture in the late Ming. In any case, rather than an ontological
concept, qi functioned as a rhetorical tool in elite polemics whose aim
was to make distinctions in the material and social world. The use of
the term qi, for instance, is prominent in the writings of Donglin literati,
always connected in some way with refinement and cultivation.
I think that Nivison and Ch’ien are incorrect in defining the salient
character of post-Wang Yangming literati thought as involving linguistic
scepticism or suspicion of words. As I have argued, it would be erroneous
to ascribe the thrust of late Ming culture to the thought of Wang Yangming.
In the late Ming, the written word in its various manifestations became a
,6SSee Ge Rong Jin, "Wang Tingxiang de yuanqi shiti lun" [Wang Tingxiang's
Discussion o f Primordial Qi], in Chen Guying, ed., Mingqing shixue sichaoshi
[Substantial Learning Intellectual Trends in the Ming and Qing Dynasties] (Jinan:
Qilu shushe, 1988), 43-77.
433
cornerstone of literati efforts to maintain elite identity, and their linguistic
attitudes are comparable to the aesthetic and literary sensibilities of
Yang Shen, not Wang Yangming. As well, I believe it is faith in the
capability of the written word to transmit intention that becomes the
foundation of evidential research. Although Qing scholars may have
had doubts about the genuineness of the textual tradition, the impulse to
resolve those doubts one way or the other could never have arisen had
they not held faith in the power of the word to transmit the intention of
the sages. In this sense then, I think we can say that late Ming cultural
developments to some extent set the stage for evidential learning in the
Qing. On the other hand, it would be mistaken as well to "trace" Qing
evidential research to the late Ming, and to Yang Shen in particular. In
key ways, evidential learning was entirely opposed to the literary and
linguistic connoisseurship which informed Yang's work.
Gu Yanwu, in his "Wen xu youyi yu tianxia"

(Literature Must Benefit the W orld),166 presents a strictly utilitarian view
of the value of literature. This insistence on practical benefit and rejection
of writing which is meant for amusement or even more serious aesthetic
pleasure is similar to the views of Wang Yangming, as is the impulse to
correct the harmful literary habits of an age through a thorough reduction
of the literary corpus according to restrictive standards. According to
Gu, only works which convey the teachings of the Classics and are of
practical use in the world should be written. He even specifically castigates
those who investigate insects and fish as lacking the mentality of saving
166G u Yanwu, "Wen xu youyi yu tianxia," Rizhi lu jishi [Record of Daily

Knowledge, Compiled and Annotated], compiled and annotated by Huang Rucheng
(Shijiazhuang: Huashan wenyi chubanshe, 1990), Vol. 2,841.
434
the people exhibited by Kongzi.167 Gu may well have had Yang Shen
specifically in mind here, for elsewhere in the Rizhi lu B£n£| (Record of
Knowledge Gained Day by Day) Yang is accused by name for "choosing
the flowery and discarding the substantial, paying attention to what is
minor and leaving out the important."168 The disavowal of the value of
aesthetic sensibility and a return to utilitarian standards for writing, and
we may even argue a general lessening of interest in personal refinement,
moral or otherwise, also marked a larger shift in literati culture in which
the cultivation of the affectations of high culture lost its value. The
culture of connoisseurship was destroyed with the dynasty, leaving its
heirs the task of rebuking the self-centeredness and self-indulgence which
allowed the dynasty to disintegrate.
Searching for the reasons for the fall of the Ming, Gu Yanwu
found the abuse of language and literature a primary culprit. In "Literature
Must Benefit the W orld,'1however, Gu Yanwu also expresses a faith in
the written word which becomes the cornerstone of Qing evidential
learning. Gu's insistence that literature benefit the world reflects his
belief in the potential for language to benefit the reader, a faith which
rests on an assumed congruence between the meaning of written characters
and an author's intention. And it is clear from Gu's writings that he
believed intention can be grasped given adequate textual skills. For
instance, Gu says the Han dynasty scholar Zheng Xuan "obtained the
intention of the sages."169 In contrast, Ming scholars "lost the intention
167.1Yu youren shu," ibid.
168.1Yuanxu," ibid., Vol. 1,7.
169"Hanren zhujing,"ibid., Vol. 2,1162.
435
of the sages," according to Gu's disciple writing in his preface to the
Rizhi lu, not because of the inability of the word to transmit intention,
but because the textual learning of Ming scholars was inadequate.170 Gu
does not mention the inadequacy of the word itself in his Rizhi lu, and
as well makes no concerted effort to defend its capability to transmit
intention. The closest he comes in this regard is in reference to the
Classics and the works of Kongzi: "Literature is here, the nature and the
Dao of heaven is not outside of this. Therefore [Kongzi] said, Those
who are moral must speak."171 Through this rather forced juxtaposition
of the comments of Kongzi's disciple that one can see the M aster's
literature, but not hear his explanations of nature or Dao, and Kongzi's
seemingly pro-linguistic slogan, Gu Yanwu makes the point that the
moral way of the sages can be obtained from the writings of antiquity.
Significantly, Kongzi's antithetical statement, "I prefer not to speak" is
nowhere to be found.
Gu Yanwu's contention that Zheng Xuan attained the intention of

the sages, and by implication we can attain them as well by reading
Zheng Xuan, was a repudiation of the notion of transmission of the
Confucian Dao according to Zhu Xi. Like Yang Shen's new lineage of
learning based on philological skill, Gu returns to the scholarship of
Han Learning to retrieve the intentions embedded in the text. Significantly
Gu Yanwu quotes approvingly from Yang Shen: "Literature is the Dao"
3t j i i f i .172 I think it is significant in this regard that Gu Yanwu's own
no"Yuanxu," ibid., Vol. 1,7.
171"Xiuci," ibid., Vol. 2,853.

mIbid„ 854.
436
prose was always highly classical and studious in its avoidance of the
vernacular. On the face of it, the dominant theory of the Ming that the
oral vernacular was more "genuine" was apparently discarded in the
Qing. In one sense, however, it was wholly absorbed by evidential
learning and merely rearticulated. Gu Yanwu and other Qing scholars
realized, for instance, that in order to discover the meaning of ancient
characters, it was vital that their ancient pronunciations be reconstructed.
Yang Shen’s contributions in this regard are especially noteworthy. We
have already seen one example in which Yang Shen finds meaning in
the sound of a character, when he claims that the meaning of the character
ge H in "gewu" [investigate things] is the same as "separation" (ge ^
),173though there is no etymological similarity between the two characters.
Yang Shen wrote several books on the phonology of ancient characters
which were read and appreciated by Gu Yanwu.174 For Qing evidential
learning scholars, it was the spoken words of the ancients that provided
a solution to the gap between meaning and intention.
173“Gewu shuo,” Sheng'an j i [Collected Works of Yang Shen] (Siku quanshu

reprint; Taibei: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1986), 5.15b.
174For a discussion of Yang Shen's phonology, see Lin Qingzhang, Mingdai

kaojuxue yatijiu [Researches on Ming Dynasty Evidential Learning] (Taibei:
Xuesheng shuju, 1986), 81 ff. For Yang's influence in this regard on Gu Yanwu,
see Yang Chongwen, "Chen Di guyinxue chu zi Yang Shen'an bian," 539.
437
Conclusion
By focusing on the problem of language, this work has attempted

to come to grips with some of the fundamental factors in the development
of Ming elite culture. And if we err on the side of generalization, at
least we can make the claim that exclusive concentration on intellectual
history, politics and institutional history, social and economic issues, or
literary history will miss the holistic context in which all these areas
simultaneously played vital roles. We can now conclude with some
assurance that from the beginning of the dynasty, philosophy of language,
poetics, and politics were integral parts of competing cultural positions.
At the political center, from need for political legitimation and the culture
of the grand secretariat evolved an essentially guwen cultural position.
The literary tradition was the standard of value, conferring legitimacy
on those in power who could claim they were its legitimate heirs. The
literary skepticism and "poetics of the moral root" of Song Daoxue were
in turn suppressed, even as Daoxue interpretations of the Classics became
civil service examination orthodoxy.
The taint of usurpation on the Three Yangs, the charge of eunuch
complicity levelled at Li Dongyang, and the general moral deterioration
of the court indicted the poetics of the political center in the minds of
many literati. Suspicion abounded that Zhu Di was not the sage-king he
loudly proclaimed himself to be, that behind the learned and virtuous
words of grand secretariat-style poems and civil service examination
essays were men only interested in power and profit, and that the Dao
438
had disappeared from the court. Disenchanted literati increasingly looked
for the moral path on the political margins, and these marginalized
literati increasingly exhibited a linguistic skepticism, or at least a
skepticism of the capability of the word to transmit the intention of the
sages via conventional linguistic forms. A search for new linguistic
vehicles to convey morality ensued. In this search, poetry came to
occupy a preeminent position for many. Unlike the "contemporary
prose" of the examinations, poetry was not tainted by greed, and as a
vehicle for personal emotions, it could best register the heroic sentiments
of the virtuous man, primary among them anger and sadness given the
state of the empire.
In an age where the word appeared to have lost its capability to
convey, it seemed poetry could rescue the intentions of the au th o r-
presaged, perhaps, in the poetry-chanting of Cheng Hao. We see a
broad continuum from Chen Xianzhang's claim that his poetry sprang
from the depths of the mind to Li Kaixian's insistence that common
songs came straight from the lungs and liver. This attempt to find
authentic language, nothing else but language which accurately registered
intention, came from the recognition that "literati language" was a political
cover-up of immoral intent. The belief that intent was consciously
being obscured by immoral individuals is a pattern we find beginning in
Zhu Yuanzhang's time.
With Zhu Yuanzhang as well, we see the first efforts to remedy
the problem of the disparity between word and intention by turning to
language which was simple and straight forward, transparent, and without
any embellishments which may give intention the opportunity to hide.
439
Thus we find a strong vernacular strain in Ming Taizu, Chen Xianzhang,
and the Seven Masters. With the latter, especially Li Mengyang, Wang
Jiusi, and Kang Hai, an interest in the vernacular complements a northern
literary style favoring unadorned speech.
Closely associated with the same factors that gave rise to interest
in the vernacular was the literati exaltation of the common man. The
common man or wom an-and it is interesting to find women, the ultimate
marginalized individuals, invoked as moral paragons by Chen Xianzhang,
Li Mengyang, and Wang Yangm ing-was the antithesis to the rich and
powerful grand secretaries. By adopting the life-style of the common
man, or at least the key outward affectations, literati could claim a moral
victory and lead the empire by moral example. Chen Xianzhang threw
away his books and went hunting and fishing. In a way, he gained
enlightenment by stripping away all literati affectation and becoming a
common man. Of course this was not entirely unconventional, for
asceticism was also known in the Confucian literati tradition. The
sanctioned denial of all but that which was necessary was exhibited in
terms of life-style and literature. Denial of comfort, food, sex, and
literature-for-pleasure are common themes in the lives of literati seeking
the moral way on the political margins.
The two figures which embody divergent cultural trends in the
mid-Ming, Wang Yangming and Yang Shen, both cannot be adequately
understood without their early Ming predecessors. W ang Yangming
was heir to the culture of the political margin and Yang Shen was heir to
that of the center. The view of Wang Yangming single-handedly turning
away from the dualism of Zhu Xi and blazing a trail of individualism
440
and sociai equality, is as flawed as that of Yang Shen as the lone
progenitor of kaozheng scholarship. The ambivalence toward the word
exhibited by Wang Yangming his entire life and which was so important
in the shaping of his thought was hardly revolutionary for his time, and
largely a continuation of Zhu Xi's own views. W hat made Wang so
revolutionary was the way in which he solved the dilemma of language,
and how this search for a substitute for conventional language coincided
with a sustained attack on the political center. Thus Wang Yangming
signaled the completion of the shift of the culture of marginality from
that of retreat (Wu Yubi and Hu Juren) to the more ambiguous position
o f Chen Xianzhang and his associates who, as a group, complemented
their critique of the culture of the political center by alternately serving
and withdrawing from political participation. W ith W ang Yangming
and his disciples we not only see participation, but political engagement
aimed at capturing the political center and the heart and m ind of the
Jiajing emperor, Zhu Houcong "the filial."
The degree of success Wang enjoyed, both at the political center
and among more mainstream literati, transformed his doctrine as well.
No longer marginalized, Wang Yangming thought was no longer seen
as ultimately an indictment of language. Indeed this aspect had to be
denied by latter-day disciples like Jiao Hong, the examination optimus,
and even to some extent by Li Zhi. Although they at times paid lip
service to the inability of the word to convey intention, they found
them selves too dependent on the word, and their ow n literary
accomplishments, to continue Wang's full-scale indictment. This denial
of Wang's literary skepticism is most pronounced in the Donglin activists
441
who adopted the rhetoric of liangzhi but at the same time refused to
relinquish the words of the Classics as standard of value in an age where
all values appeared to be in flux.
Yang Shen was a child of the political center, and ultimately his
views and accomplishments owe much to that culture, specifically to his
teacher Grand Secretary Li Dongyang, and, I would even argue, Yang
Shiqi. As W ang Yangming grew up skeptical about the word, Yang
Shen grew up secure in the knowledge that linguistic art and literary
skill marked those few who stood at the top of Chinese polity and
society and who as well stood with the literary giants responsible for
establishing the great cultural heritage. Yang Shen's sense of value and
self-worth were entwined with his prodigious literary abilities and were
strengthened as he was rewarded for them, culminating in his graduating
as optim us and being presented a post in the Hanlin Academy. His
pursuit of broad learning and ultimately his rejection of anything that
smacked of a narrow literary orthodoxy, was a clear continuation of the
grand secretariat ethic. Yang Shen's philological accomplishments, as
well, would have never been attempted had he not had both the respect
for the word and respect for the ancient that this ethic embodied.
I have argued that the motivation for Yang's philology had little
to do with the quest to uncover the true meaning of the Classics that
predominates in Qing evidential learning. Even when Yang appears
most like a Qing scholar, in his research on ancient pronunciations, for
instance, we discover motivations that have more to do with the defense
of the grand secretariat ethic. We recall Yang's attack on the Former
Seven Masters, simultaneously a defense of the poetics of Li Dongyang,
442
centered on the charge that they were attempting to write ancient poetry
while ignorant of the ancient pronunciations. In terms of shared
philological techniques, it may be accurate to portray Yang as an evidential
learning forerunner, but such a portrayal blinds us to the forces that
molded Yang's work and ultimately gives it meaning.
Yang Shen's later work was also a product of his exile, however,
and in some important ways exile served to strengthen sensibilities which
were bom from the culture of the political center. In a sense, Yang's
exile was a release from political participation and also a release from
the linguistic restrictions officialdom placed on language. A Ming literatus
may disagree as to the relationship between the word and morality, but
there was never such a disagreement about government. Governing was
the primary moral act, in some case the only act, of the sages, and this
truth was especially evident in an era when the zhitong in some sense
became synonymous with the Daotong. In short, exile released Yang
Shen's linguistic and literary explorations from the confines of political
morality. Again, however, this tendency was already evident in the
grand secretariat. A cynical observation would be that Yang Shen's
grand secretary predecessors had already succeeded in divorcing morality
from the word due to the divergence of their pious statements and immoral
actions—but this is the perspective of their detractors. More influential
is Li Dongyang's orientation as a literary connoisseur who is attracted to
good poetry as he is to good wine. The tendency toward connoisseurship
in the grand secretariat became more manifest in exile where Yang Shen
was literally given the opportunity to indulge in literary pleasures.
Yang Shen in exile, indulging in literature, wine, food, and sex,
443
was the literati aesthete diametrically opposed to the literati ascetic. In
this case, however, Yang Shen was not merely recreating in exile the
degenerate culture of the political center opposed by marginalized moral
literati. Yang was not just indulging, but was actively resisting what he
considered to be the poverty of a narrowly defined, morality-directed
literati culture, whether the poetics of Li Mengyang, the scholarship of
Zhu Xi, the thought of Wang Yangming, or the politics of the anti-Yang
Tinghe forces in the Great Ritual Controversy. Rather than merely a
function of his position and status, his aesthetic was his effort to define
himself against his political enemies and reassert what he believed literati
ought to be, and what his adversaries were not.
Yang Shen and Wang Yangming are emblematic of their age
because we see in the Ming a gradual shift in literati culture which
mirrored certain geographical movements. In one sense, the cultural
shift from North to South began when the Song dynasty capital was
moved from Kaifeng to Hangzhou. In the Ming, Zhu Di made Beijing
in the North the primary capital, and through a combination of political
and other factors, it served as the single most important source of literati
cultural standards for the first half of the dynasty. The victorious entrance
of W ang Yangming's disciples into the capital and Yang Shen's exile to
the Southwest presaged the reversal of geographic power relationships
in the late Ming where the northern political center became in some
sense marginalized, and a peripheral area, or at least that portion around
Jiangnan, became the cultural center. The shift of the cultural center
from arid North to rich and fertile South, reflected a transformation in
the character of literati culture as well.
444
This cultural transformation is best characterized as a shift from
ascetic to aesthetic values. The denial of the positive value of material
culture and the pleasure to be derived from it in the early and mid-Ming
gave way to a culture of material indulgence and connoisseurship by the
late Ming. The trend toward manifestations of indulgence is not unrelated
to the burgeoning wealth and commercialism making possible a consumer-
driven culture. More significantly, it shows that the standards by which
literati measured the world and themselves had changed. It was no
longer the common that held fascination, but the strange. For W u Yubi
and the others the allure of the common was its moral strength. By the
late Ming we rather get the impression that the moral was indeed too
com m on to quench the interest of an elite class, often eschewing
government, and with a lot of time on its hands.
This shift from the ascetic to the aesthetic, from the moral to the
strange is also evident in a shift from linguistic skepticism to literary
indulgence. The language pathos of Wu Yubi and W ang Yangming
gave way to the language pleasure of Yang Shen, Yuan Hongdao, and
Li Yu. Reading and writing in the late Ming became an almost sensual
indulgence, and were pursued with as much gusto as the characters in
the vernacular fiction of the period pursue sex.
The shift often involved not a new set of cultural tropes, but their
redeployment within a new cultural context. There are for instance
echoes of the values of early Ming, though instead of the rustic sentiments
of Chen Xianzhang and Wu Yubi, we find the late Ming literatus enjoying
bucolic retreat in his immense garden, with its thoughtfully apportioned
mountain studio and neatly cultivated orchards. The redeployment of
445
early cultural forms is also plainly seen in the popularity of vernacular
language in the late Ming. This interest in the vernacular was well-
entrenched in the early and mid-Ming. The perceived value of the
vernacular, however, its simpleness-its ascetic character so to speak-and
its ability to communicate intention straight-forwardly is replaced by
aesthetic value. Primarily, the vernacular becomes another art in the
literary repertoire of literati adepts. It is valued by readers as an indication
of the literary skills of the author, not his moral bearing, and in fact
increasingly represents a conscious transgression of Confucian norms.
In the late Ming the vernacular is read for pleasure, not edification.
The one exception to this is perhaps the moral essays of Donglin
partisans, though given the strong tradition of vernacular y u lu , it is
possible that they merely continued the genre as a badge of doctrinal
affiliation. There appears no overt indication that they chose the vernacular
so as to better convey moral intention, especially given their denial of
linguistic skepticism. And while the Donglin partisans continued the
activist politics of W ang Yangming, as well as the rhetoric o f moral
superiority, they were engaged in a somewhat different struggle. They
were not moral because they embodied the common; there were no
W ang Gens among the Donglin partisans. Fundam entally, their
superiority was a function of their status and power as Jiangnan elites.
This brings us to the last important generalization we will make
about Ming literati. Throughout the dynasty we discover that language
was closely linked to the search for and maintenance of elite identity.
The positive association between elite identity and literary skill was of
course strengthened by Ming institutions, the civil service examinations
446
as well as the central governmental roles of the Grand Secretariat and
Hanlin Academy. Li Dongyang's patronage of the grand secretary style,
Yang Shen's prolific impulse to write, his placing himself with in a new
lineage of philological learning, and Yuan Hongdao's writings on the
connoisseurship of flowers, all are evidence of the power of language to
define elite status. As for the linguistic skeptics on the political margins,
ultimately most striking was their inability to discard language. Even
though they may have discarded all other literati affectations, they never
discarded classical or vernacular literacy, for words continued to be the
ultimate source of their morally elite identities. The dependence on the
word as a mark of status increased in the late Ming because social and
economic instability challenged the power and status of old elites. And
this was a time they were especially vulnerable since previous markers
o f elite status, like government service, no longer adequately served that
function. Literati like Yuan Hongdao whose literary departures from
classical norms served to enhance their identity as elites were the
exception. In an age of instability, and eventually, dissolution, the
instinctual cultural reaction of elites was retrograde, seeking shelter in
the self-image of Kongzi in an age of turmoil, the embattled keeper of
the Classics.
447
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The trap of words: P olitical power, cultural authority, and

Schorr, Adam Wilder, Ph.D.

Copyright © 1994 by Schorr, Adam W ilder. All rights reserved.

The Trap of Words:

A dissertation submitted In partial satisfaction of the

Adam Wilder Schorr

Robert E. Buswell, Jr., Committee Co-chair

University of California, Los Angeles

C onclusion ................................................................................. 438

Selected Bibliography.............................................................................. 448

1982 B.A., Chinese Studies and Political Science

1985 M.A., History

1988-89; 89-90 Title VI Foreign Language

1990-1991 Dissertation Research, Committee

Schorr, Adam Wilder. (1989). Buddhist Rhetoric and Ming Dynasty

_______ , and Shih, Shu-mei. (Spring 1992). A Translation of Wang

_______ , and Shih, Shu-mei. (1992). A Translation of Chen Ruoxi's

_______ . (1993). Philology and the Defense against Vulgar Learning:

The Trap of Words:

Adam Wilder Schorr

The dissertation is an interpretive study of Ming dynasty cultural

This study began with my interest in a fascinating and highly

2Lunyu zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu (Beijing: Zhonghua

He [the gentleman] rectifies his names and makes his words

7"Tiandao," ibid, 36/14/70.

There is no territory under Heaven

9Mengzi zhushu, Ruan Yuan, ed., Shisanjing zhushu (Beijing: Zhonghua

10Dong Zhongshu, "Chunqiu xilu," in Tang Yan, Lianghan sanguo xuean

lsTang Yongtong, Wei Jin xuanxue lungao [A Discussion of the Mysterious

16Tang Yan, Lianghan sanguo xuean, 36.

18G uo Xiang, "Zhuangzi commentary," in Tang, Liang Han Sanguo xuean,

Linguistic Skepticism in Song Daoxue

Any discussion of Ming literati attitudes toward written language

The function of literature is to convey the Dao. The

2Henan Ercheng yishu [Bequeathed Works of the Two Chengs], in Ercheng

3Quoted in Li Xiuxiong, A Comparative Study o f Zhu Xi's and Li Tuixi's

7Zhuangzi, "waiwu," Zhuangzi yinde (Shanghai: Guji chubanshe, 1988),

Of those in ancient times who were able to know poetry,

sHenan Chengshiyishu, 18.187.

Mister Mingdao [Cheng Hao] excelled at discoursing on

The emphasis here is on the reader's unencumbered movement through

l0Henan Chengshi waishu [Alternate Works of the Cheng Brothers]. Ercheng

Borrow the Classics in order to comprehend moral principle

Elsewhere he directly quotes Zhuangzi!s Bian the Wheelwright, saying

Topically Arranged] (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1988), Vol. 1,176.

Pay attention to each sentence and the moral principles in

When a student first reads a text, all he sees is an amorphous

‘“Translated in Daniel K. Gardner, "Modes of Thinking and Modes of

l6Zhuzi yulei, Vol. 1,185.

...first cultivate the root, and already having thoroughly

The act of reading is subordinated to the process of moral cultivation

Only by reading the Six Classics as if there never were any

Although I suggest that, according to Zhu Xi's own pronouncements on

There is indeed no conflict between transmitting the way

W hile they continue to question the capability of writing to transmit

“ Gardner, “Modes of Thinking and Modes of Discourse, 589; 592.

29See Charles Hartman's discussion of Han Yu's "Discourse on Teachers,"

31Although the Ming examinations did not include poetry, it is nevertheless