Mysticism in the Confucian Tradition Lai Chen

  

Mysticism in the Confucian Tradition

Lai Chen

To cite this article: Lai Chen (2015) Mysticism in the Confucian Tradition, Studies in Chinese

Religions, 1:1, 20-45, DOI: 10.1080/23729988.2015.1006840

To link to this article:  https://doi.org/10.1080/23729988.2015.1006840

 

Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at https://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=rstu20

 

Studies in Chinese Religions, 2015  

Vol. 1, No. 1, 20–45, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/23729988.2015.1006840

RESEARCH ARTICLE

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Mysticism in the Confucian Tradition*神秘體驗 與儒家思想中的天人合

Lai Chen**

Tsinghua University, Beijing, China

(Received 15 August 2014; accepted 12 December 2014)

In this essay, the author examines the importance of mystical experience (shenmi tiyan) in the ethical cultivation and philosophy of Song and Ming Neo-Confucian thinkers. Drawing on scholarship in comparative religion, the author views mystical experience in Confucianism as one manifestation of an experience seen in many world religions. The experience of oneness with the universe and the experience of the “original heart” are two modes of mystical experience found within the Confucian tradition. The essay will show that for many thinkers in the “Learning of the Heart” (xinxue) tradition, mystical experiences served to verify the teachings of the sages and silent meditation was a central part of their everyday practice of cultivation. 

While nominally part of a lineage that placed particular importance on mystical experience and silent meditation, Zhu Xi made important departures from this mode of practice. Zhu Xi’s criticisms of mystical experience and those of his followers in the Song and Ming are also examined in this essay. Consideration is also given to the relevance of mystical experience in the future development of Confucianism.

Keywords: mysticism; mystical experience; comparative religion; Neo-Confucianism; Learning of the Heart (Xinxue)

*Originally published as “Ruxue chuantong zhong de shenmi zhuyi 儒学传统的神秘主义,” in Wenhua: Zhongguo yu shijie 文化: 中国与世界 [Culture: China and the World], vol. 5 (Sanlian shudian, 1988). Translation by Trenton Wilson. **Email: chenlai@mail.tsinghua.edu.cn

© 2015 Institute of World Religions, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences

Introduction

In classical Chinese philosophy, Daoism and Buddhism are often thought to be the paradigmatic forms of Eastern mysticism. Many scholars have discussed this issue, including Benjamin I. Schwartz who, in his work The World of Thought in Ancient China, devoted a section of his chapter on Laozi to a discussion of this point.1 However, few scholars have paid attention to the problem of mysticism in the Confucian tradition (especially within Song and Ming Neo-Confucianism).

The connotations and denotations of the concept “mysticism” are contested among Western scholars. In the tradition of medieval Christian theology, “mystical” referred to a high level of religious understanding. Since then, scholars of comparative religion, philosophers and anthropologists have applied the term to religious experiences similar to those of Christianity and have even applied it to non-religious cultural phenomena. It has become a general phenomenological concept. According to the position of comparative religious studies, mysticism is closely associated with mystical experience.2

 

Mystical experience refers to a high-level experience of the inner mind achieved by the religious believer through a specific method of cultivation. Of course, once a Western concept or category is translated into Chinese it acquires a certain independence. “Materialism” (weiwu zhuyi) and “idealism” (weixin zhuyi), for example, have gradually developed their own interpretive traditions within China. Similarly, in academic usage, shenmi zhuyi often includes various types of folk superstition; thus it doesn’t perfectly correspond to “mysticism” as the high-level experience of the inner mind. Xie Fuya has suggested that the term shenmi is inappropriate and suggested shenqi instead, so as to express the notion of perfect alignment between self and non-self.3 However, as we will see in the following discussion, shenqi is only applicable to certain kinds of mystical experience. In terms of my own understanding, mystical experience could in fact be translated as “the experience of spiritual enlightenment” (shenwu de tiyan). In any case, language is established through conventional usage and the advancement of yet another translation only serves to muddle the issue. For this reason, I do not find it necessary to offer a new Chinese translation here.

This essay will investigate the following problem: is there mystical experience within the Confucian tradition? The investigation of this problem allows us to see the unique features of Chinese philosophy from a different angle and will help us to understand many important propositions within Chinese thought. It also allows us to reflect further on the limitations of Confucianism and clarify directions for the development of contemporary Confucianism.

Scholars of comparative religion discovered early on that the major religious traditions of the world all have phenomena that might be called “mystical experiences.” The basic feature of these experiences is the attainment of some spontaneous and special psychological sensation achieved with recourse to a certain practice of cultivation. Different religious traditions, however, vary in the content, explanation and the concomitant emotional forms of these experiences. 

For instance, the basic content of the Christian mystical experience is “union with God.” Here, “experience” refers to the acquisition of a sensation, feeling and mental image by the inner mind, a sense that the enormous gap separating the self from God has been overcome and one has been united with God. 

In Hinduism, the highest state is the experience of the unity between the individual soul and the supreme being of the universe, Brahma—the unity of Brahma and self. 

The experience of Buddhism is different still. In Buddhism, the highest experience neither leads one to some highest supreme Being nor recognizes the existence of the soul or atman. Nirvana is an experiential state of the inner mind insofar as it both rejects the fusion of the self with a transcendent being and denies the soul escape from the body. It is rather a penetrating insight into and experience of “emptiness”—it is the conquest of any mental state that preserves the self.4

Regardless of the differences in these religious experiences, from the perspective of comparative religion these mystical experiences share common features. In Varieties of Religious Experience, William James wrote that mystical experiences have four universal features.5 They are ineffable, noetic, transient, and passive. These features, however, are essentially formal and do not refer to the commonalities of experiential content and emotional expression. W.T. Stace, who conducted extensive research on mystical experiences, believes that their fundamental features are: ineffability, paradoxicality, feeling of the sacred, and sense of reality. He points out that while the Christian experience of “union” and the Hindu experience of “identity” are different, both believe they have experienced some kind of undifferentiated, pure oneness. And while the Buddhist experience excludes all thought and emotion, the result is still this kind of pure oneness. Stace further suggests that on the basis of the different expressions of this kind of unity, all mystical experiences basically fall into two types: extrovertive and introvertive. After comparing various mystical experiences around the world, he argued that these two types each have seven characteristics, five of which are shared between the two types, namely, feeling of the sacred, sense of reality, peacefulness, joy and excitation, and ineffability. These two types differ, however, in that the extrovertive experience is the experience that “all things are one” while the introvertive experience is the experience of “pure consciousness.” This kind of undifferentiated pure consciousness feels that the self is the entirety of reality— differences in time and space have been transcended.6 Ninian Smart has argued that the typical feature of the mystical experience is the attainment of a feeling of incredible and ineffable happiness and a sense of eternity accompanied by the acquisition of an entirely new worldview. Ben-Ami Scharfstein, among others, has discussed techniques for the achievement of mystical experiences and believes that the most important and fundamental method used to achieve a mystical experience is selfcontrol, specifically concentration, breath control and meditation (mingxiang).7

According to the conclusions of comparative religion, it might be said that mystical experience refers to the attainment of a kind of special state of spiritual feeling through the use of certain means of psychological control. While in this state, the person in the extrovertive type of experience will feel that “all things are one” and the person in the introvertive type will feel that his individual consciousness has transcended time and space and is coextensive with the entirety of reality. All mystical experiences sense the dissolution of the limit separating subject/object and all other differences. This feeling is accompanied by a sense of incredible excitement, joy and elevation. Religious believers place much importance on this experience and believe that it is experiential proof of their doctrines. Psychologists—for instance J.H. Leuba’s psychology of religious mysticism— focus on the way the mystical experience is driven by the subconscious. It is a psychological response or illusion emerging under certain conditions. Research in comparative cultures and religions nevertheless demonstrates that the mystical experience is an important phenomenon of consciousness that has widely influenced the development of many cultures.

The discussion of Confucian mystical experiences in this essay is essentially a kind of phenomenological description of mystical experience. However, I should be clear that, while this essay will focus on mystical experience and establish the importance of a mystical tradition within classical Confucianism—especially Song and Ming NeoConfucianism, I do not want to suggest that mysticism is the core of the Confucian tradition. Quite the contrary. In my view, rationalism (lixing zhuyi) has always been the core of the Confucian tradition and should be critically passed down and promoted.

Mystical experience in Ming Learning of the Heart (Xinxue)8

For the sake of convenience, this essay will examine later examples first, that is to say, it will first discuss the mystical experiences of Ming Confucianism and then return to the Song. This is primarily because mystical experiences in Ming Confucianism are the most developed and are recorded in the greatest detail.

Huang Zongxi (1610–1695) wrote: “Study in the Ming became refined and subtle (jingwei) with [Chen] Baisha. For him, the most important of practices is found in deep cultivation (hanyang).”9 Chen Baisha (1428–1500) wrote of his own studies:

My abilities are inferior to others. When I was twenty-seven, I started studying with Wu Pinjun...Now, after many years, I have still not attained anything. What I mean by “have not attained anything” is that my heart and principle have not fused together. Thus, I abandoned the complicated to seek the crux of things for myself in quiet meditation. After a long time, the form of my heart became visible, faintly disclosed as if there had always been something there. The comings and goings of daily life followed my desires, like a horse responding to the reins of its driver.10

What Chen Baisha describes here is precisely the attainment of an inner experience achieved with recourse to meditation. This meditative experience is typical in Confucianism. In terms of the experience just described, the central feature is the “disclosure of the heart’s form” (xinti chenglou). For those who lack this kind of experience it would be difficult to describe precisely what is the “disclosure of the heart’s form,” but we can basically determine that it is close to the “introvertive mystical experience,” the disclosure of pure consciousness. “Heart’s form” refers to the original form of the heart, in other words, its original state. Song and Ming Confucians meditate in order to block out thoughts in the heart so as to observe the image (qixiang) that precedes the emergence of thoughts. This is all done for the sake of revealing the “heart’s form.” Chen proposed “cultivating a beginning from within quietude” which was his call for students to achieve an experience of the “disclosure of heart’s form” through meditation.11 However, Chen also had another kind of mystical experience, which he described thus:

Heaven and Earth—I establish them; the myriad things—I give rise to them. The entire universe is in me. If one can get hold of this handle (babing), what else is there left to do. The past and the present, the four directions and what is above and below are all strung together as if through a buttonhole, they are all gathered together.12

This mystical experience is the state of union between self and universe. When he says that “the past and the present, the four directions and what is above and below are all strung as if through a buttonhole, they are all gathered together” he is referring to the feeling of transcending temporality. The practice needed for this kind of mystical experience is what Chen refers to as the “handle” (babing).

Wang Yangming’s 王阳明(1472–1529) teachings promoted “the union of knowledge and action” (zhixing heyi) and “the application of innate knowledge” (zhi liangzhi). His own initial entry into these ideas also came from a mystical experience. During the Hongzhi reign period (1488–1505), Wang sat in quiet meditation and practiced the exercise techniques known as “guiding and pulling” (daoyin). Later, while in Changde and Chenzhou, his teachings focused on quiet meditation. As he described it: “Recently I have been in quiet meditation with my students at the Buddhist temple so that I might understand the form of my nature (xingti). Looking, it appeared dimly as if I might approach it.”13 The Nianpu 年谱 records his realization of the Way at Longchang:

Day and night I sat upright in pristine silence searching for quiet oneness (jingyi). After a long time had passed, my heart was at ease...I then thought, if the sages were in this situation, what would they teach (dao)? Suddenly, in the middle of the night, I was greatly awakened to the core meaning of “investigating things” and “applying knowledge” (gewu zhizhi). In the midst of my tossing and turning, it was as if there was someone speaking. Involuntarily I cried out and jumped up, frightening my followers. I finally understood the way of the sages. My own nature is sufficient on its own. My previous search for principles out among affairs and things was wrong.14

Huang Wan 黄绾 (1477–1551) wrote in the Xingzhuang 行状 composed for Wang:

He is able to transcend and cast off all considerations of gain and loss, honor and shame. Still being unable to chase the thought of life and death from his heart, he therefore made a stone sarcophagus, swearing and oath to himself: “I am simply waiting for death, what other concerns might I have.” Day and night he sat in silent meditation, clearing his heart and refining his thoughts, searching within the quiet oneness (jingyi). One night, he had a great awakening and jumped about like a crazy man (kuangzhe).15

According to the Nianpu, Yangming’s awakening to the Way appears to be the result of a reflection on key phrases (huatou). However, according to the Xingzhuang, he employs the method of quiet meditation to rid the inner mind of all thoughts and desires so as to focus all attention completely on the inner mind. The notion that “my own nature is sufficient on its own” is of a kind with Baisha’s disclosure of nature’s form (xingti chenglou). Yangming’s “sudden awakening” and “jumping about as if crazy” are, moreover, basic features of the mystical experience. While Yangming does not take this mystical experience to be the core of his own teachings, he does nevertheless believe that this kind of initiation is in line with the practice of sages and worthies.

Wang Longxi 王龙溪 (1498–1583) has also described Yangming’s mystical experience of cultivation and meditation at Yangming Cave:

He set his heart to the study of Laozi and Buddhism, tirelessly cultivating (jingxiu) himself day and night at the temple. He practiced esoteric teachings and penetrated to the crux, grasping the meaning of what these other traditions have called “revealing nature” and “holding to oneness.” He not only comprehended the meaning but also attained the essence. He said that while in this quietude he looked into himself and saw his bodily form as if it were a crystal palace—forgetting self and other; forgetting heaven and earth—having the same form as emptiness. There were brilliant lights, the shadowy shifting of illusions. It was like desiring to speak but forgetting the means by which one speaks. It was, in short, the image of the true realm (zhenjing xiang). He later found himself in trouble among the barbarians, a fact that strengthened his heart and nature. In the midst of this he was suddenly and mysteriously awakened. He did not depart from the sympathetic order of things so that rights and wrongs and the norms of heaven disclosed themselves [to him].16

The “he said” in the preceding text refers to Yangming’s own account of his experience. Wang Longxi is getting this directly from Yangming and thus should be considered a credible account showing that Yangming also had a mystical experience of the unity of heaven, earth and the myriad things.

Huang Zongxi only occasionally mentions the study of Zhu Xi’s teachings in the Ming. At one point he cites the writings of Gao Panlong 高攀龙 (1562–1626) who notes that Xue Jingxuan 薛敬瑄 (1392–1464) and Lü Jingye 吕泾野 (1479–1542) both lack “penetrating enlightenment” (touwu).17 In fact, Zhu Xi and his followers are opposed to this kind of experience. By contrast, followers of Yangming often speak of “enlightenment” (wu). For instance, Yangming’s brother-in-law Xu Ai 徐爱 (1487–1517) says:

When I first began my studies with the master [Yangming], I kept to the straight and narrow. Only, after a while, I encountered great confusion and exasperation. I dared not immediately refute the teachings, so I would return to think about what I had learned. Through thinking, I began to understand more until my mind and heart finally confirmed experientially (yan) the teachings. It was as if there was something faintly visible, followed by a great enlightenment. My hands and feet danced involuntarily. I said: “Now this is the form of the Way. This is the heart. This is study.”18

Xu Ai mentions the practice of “confirming experientially” but doesn’t go into detail. Nevertheless, the references to “something faintly visible, followed by a great awakening,” the disclosure of the form of heart and the form of the Way, and the dancing of hands and feet, all refer to mystical experience.

Yangming’s follower Nie Shuangjiang (1487–1563) was imprisoned during the Jiajing reign (1522–1566). The Ming Ru Xue’an 明儒学案 records:

After the long idleness and extreme quiet of prison, the true form of the heart suddenly appeared with immaculate clarity and all things were present—just as the master had taught. Happily, I said: “This is the midst of the before stirring (weifa). If I can hold onto this without fail, the principles of the world will all come forth from it.” Upon getting out of prison, he placed special emphasis on the method of quiet meditation for his students so that they might return to profound silence in order to understand emotion (tong gan)—holding to the form (ti) in their response to everyday functions (yong).19

“The true form of the heart suddenly appeared with immaculate clarity and all things were present” is a typical expression of the content of the Confucian mystical experience. The attainment of an experience through quiet meditation is a method Chinese philosophy refers to as “returning to profound silence in order to understand emotion” (gui ji yi tong gan).

During the same period, Luo Nian’an (1504–1564) also subscribed to Shuangjiang’s notion of the primacy of quietude. Some criticized Shuangjiang for adopting the same position as Chan insofar as he transformed the study of “before stirring” (weifa) into mystical experience. Luo Nian’an, however, wrote that, “Shuangjiang’s methods are truly as swift and piercing as lightning.” Luo Nian’an had also begun his study through the study of Chan: “In the Cave of Stone Lotuses, he sat in quiet meditation on a bench. For three years he did not leave the room and was thus able to have foreknowledge.” “He read the Surangama Sutra and was able to reflect back to the beginning of things. He felt his body within the Great Emptiness (taixu) and it was as if his sight and hearing were from beyond this world. Those who saw him were startled by his mysterious expression. He

[then] criticized himself, saying: ‘I have wrongly strayed into Chan meditation.’”20 However, he later was still using Fang Yushi’s method and practice of evening meditation. The latter described this by saying, “One begins to get the teachings of the sage once a beginning (duanni) has been made mysteriously visible from within quietude.”21 It is clear that Luo’s practice remained on the path of meditative experience. By changing Baisha’s “cultivating a beginning from within quietude” to “making a beginning mysteriously visible from within quietude,” Fang Yushi made the mystical element of this practice clearer. Luo Nian’an described his achievements thus:

In moments of supreme silence, there is a mysterious awakening to my own heart’s emptiness extending to the unbounded on all sides—like clouds flowing without end across the vast sky; like the seamless transformations of the great fish dragons of the sea. There is no inner and outer to speak of, no separation of movement and stillness. Above, below and the four directions, the past and the present, blend into one. What is called “not existing exists everywhere” was given expression through my body (faqiao). Bodily form, in the end, was unable to place a limit.22

This “extrovertive experience” described by Luo Nian’an is different from Nie Shuangjiang’s “introvertive experience.” The difference between “introvertive” and “extrovertive” here does not refer to the different mental direction of the experience but rather the content and result of the experience, namely whether the core of the experience is the universe or self consciousness. Although Chen Baisha’s experience involved “gathering together past, present and the six directions,” its focus was “I establish heaven and earth; I give rise to the myriad things.” In effect, this is fundamentally about selfconsciousness. In Luo Nian’an’s experience, on the other hand, there was no remnant of pure self-consciousness, the entire universe blended together into one form, without divisions between inner and outer, movement and stillness, and without separation between things. This was an experience of true boundlessness, transcending the differences of time and space and all other differences. This is, of course, a kind of mystical psychological experience. The example of Luo Nian’an demonstrates with great clarity the deep and abiding influence of Buddhist and Daoist meditative experience on Song and Ming Neo-Confucianism.

Another follower of Yangming, Wang Longxi held a theory of “four without” (si wu), including the idea of a form of heart that is “without good and without bad,” similar to the mystical experience of Buddhism’s emptiness (kong). In terms of his practice of cultivation, he taught that, “gathering together spirit from within quietude, heart and breath in coincidence, advancement is gradually made.” He placed great emphasis on quiet meditation and breath control for the attainment of enlightenment. He wrote:

Master [Yangming] had three different teachings concerning enlightenment. Attaining it through intellect is called intellectual enlightenment (jie wu)—but one remains within words. Attaining it through quietude is called proven enlightenment (zheng wu)—but it still relies on an outside realm (jing). Attaining it through the practice of human affairs, forgetting words and realms, returning to the source at each moment, becoming more concentrated with more bustle, this is, at last, penetrating enlightenment (che wu).23

While Longxi’s “proven enlightenment through quietude” is not the highest form of practice, it is one of the methods of enlightenment taught by Yangming.

Longxi’s follower Wan Tingyan万廷言 (style Simo 思默) also studied under Luo Nian’an. Wan described his experience to Longxi:

When I first studied quiet meditation, all was confused and dark. I found no silence and was unable to find balance; I lost count of my breath and spent the whole time gathering together this heart. Thoughts flew about, shifting and running about. I couldn’t get them to surrender and chased them about trying to get them in line. After a while, I suddenly felt that my heart no longer moved, and within two or three days it was like being dumbfounded (chi). My thoughts stopped and it was as if there was something in my breast that was slowly showing itself, gradually sending forth light. I happily thought to myself: was this what Baisha meant when he said “cultivating a beginning from within quietude?” When this place became settled and I got a handle on emptiness, it felt as if the light was within and the emptiness was from without. By joining what is without from within there appeared to be a region, empty on all four sides, that contains and nourishes all of these things. This seems to be proof (yinzheng) of what is usually referred to as “the Highest Virtue coalesces into the Highest Way.”24

Wan Tingyan’s practice of silent meditation followed Wang Longxi’s method of “gathering together spirit” (shoushe jingshen). When he first began his study, various thoughts interfered with him even more than usual, but as he slowly entered into quietude, a special state suddenly disclosed itself within his heart. Within this state, it was as if something appeared accompanied by some sensation of light. He believed that he was re-experiencing Chen Baisha’s experience of the “disclosure of the form of the heart.” Huang Zongxi quoted Wan’s own thoughts on study:

When I was young I knew about gathering together my heart. My thinking was greatly strained and my breathing difficult. I set my entire mind to silent meditation, having an inkling that there was a dwelling place within...I had the good fortune to return to the mountains where I once again went was able to close the door and quietly gather and know my own heart. After a while, superficial and noisy habits of heart were suddenly laid to rest and I sensed that there was a true thought within this. It subtly implanted itself within my body—it was like a thought yet also like not having any thoughts. There was penetrating insight into the depths and an open without bounds.25

Wan Tingyan studied in this way for several decades. His experience of “penetrating insight into the depths and an open without bounds” is an experience of the “heart’s form.” This seems to have been a move beyond his initial meditative experience of the subtle disclosure of the heart’s form.

Hu Zhi 胡直(style Zhengfu正甫, 1517–1585) also studied with Luo Nian’an, who taught him silent meditation. Hu wrote that Luo did not entirely subscribe to Yangming’s teachings and taught his students to give central importance to quietude and being without desire (wuyu). Hu Zhi later studied Chan with Deng Dunfeng 邓钝峰 (Lu 鲁). He records in his Kunxue ji 困学记:

Either on the couch or on a mat on the floor, I would sit in meditation at night, sleeping very little. With the cry of the rooster, I would return to seated meditation. The main purpose of this practice was to put a stop to the various thoughts in one’s heart so that one’s nature might finally be revealed. Before long I had sat for a couple of months, at which point strange images appeared to me between sleeping and waking. Dunfeng said: “This is what Buddhists and Daoists call the Realm of Demons (mojing).”...After six months, I became quiet and composed. One day, my mind was suddenly enlightened and I was without miscellaneous thoughts. I penetratingly saw that Heaven, Earth and the myriad things were all the form of my heart (xinti). I let out a sigh: I now know that Heaven, Earth and the myriad things are not outside of me.26

Hu Zhi reported this experience to Deng Dunfeng, who said: “Your nature has appeared.” Hu Zhi was overjoyed. However, not long after, “thoughts arose once more and he lost his initial enlightenment.” He set out in search of it again:

I went out with several friends to the Jiucheng Terrace. I went to get up after sitting and I suddenly understood (wu) once more that Heaven, Earth and the myriad things are, in fact, not outside of me. This corresponded to Zisi’s “penetration of the above and the below,” Mencius’ “the myriad things are all [within me],” Cheng Hao’s “blended together with things in the same form,” and Lu Jiuyuan’s “the universe is my heart.” I was in complete agreement with their teachings. As I looked at things before me, there was complete understanding

(saran che).27

Hu Zhi’s experience is typical. Like other experiences, it essentially follows the course of quiet meditation aimed at the elimination of various thoughts followed by the sudden arrival at a realm of enlightenment once supreme stillness has been achieved. His attainment of the experience “Heaven, Earth and the myriad things are all the form of my heart” is basically similar to the experience of soul and universe becoming one. His reference to the Confucian experiences within the tradition of Zisi and Mengzi shows that his understanding of this practice is a result of deep study.

Jiang Xin 蒋信 (style Daolin 道林, 1483–1559) studied with Yangming and Ganquan 甘泉. Ming Ru Xue’an records:

When Master [Jiang Xin] first read Analects, “Calm Nature” (Ding xing) and the “Western Inscription,” he gathered that “the unitary form of all things” was the root of the sage’s teachings. At the age of 32 or 33, he was afflicted with a sickness of the lungs and went to the Daolin temple to sit in quiet meditation. After a while, his fear of death and his longing for his mother ceased. One day, he suddenly sensed penetratingly that the universe is combined together in one body. He finally understood Cheng Hao’s words “the great impartiality is like a vast expanse” (kuoran dagong), “there is no inner and outer,” and “I am on a level with the myriad things.” These phrases referred to this [kind of experience].28

There are many like Jiang Xin in Song and Ming Neo-Confucianism who begin Buddhist and Daoist practices because of physical weakness or illness. Their initial focus is merely on the preservation of life. Buddhist meditation and Daoist breathing practices readily give rise to mystical experiences and the agent of the experience will often turn to what is familiar to confirm their experience, namely classical books or the writings of past scholars. If they can find something that matches their experience, their enlightenment is thereby verified and can be established as a pedagogical model. Another follower of Yangming, Wang Xinzhai 王心斋 (1483–1541), records an experience he had prior to meeting Yangming:

While he was unable to devote his efforts exclusively to study, he would silently ponder things. The Classics served as proof (zheng) of enlightenment; and enlightenment served to explain the Classics. After many years of this practice, none could grasp his expanses. One night, he dreamt that the heavens fell and pressed down on his body. Tens of thousands fled crying for help. By raising his arm, he lifted heaven back up. Seeing that the sun, moon and stars were out of alignment, he reordered them with his hands. He awoke drenched in sweat. He penetratingly understood the form of his heart (xinti dongche). A record was made: In Sixth year of the Zhengde reign [1511]. Residing in Humaneness (ju ren) for three-and-a-half months. Age twenty-nine.29

According to his Nianpu, he was 27 years old when he began “quiet meditation to embody the Way, but did not achieve enlightenment. He thus shut himself in and reflected quietly day and night, all year round without break.” From this we know that his dreamenlightenment at the age of 29 was a result of his daily quiet meditation. Wang Xinzhai’s method also placed great importance on quiet meditation, but he was more inclined towards reflection on key phrases (huatou). Regardless, “penetratingly understanding the form of the heart” is a without doubt a kind of mystical experience.

There were students of Yangming who did not give much credence to this kind of experiential practice. For instance, Zou Shouyi 邹守益 (1491–1562) emphasized “reverence” (jing). He understood that “even Buddhists can see that the form of nature (xingti) is flowing,” by which he meant that Buddhists also use this kind of mystical experience to verify the form of nature (xingti). The fact that his “Qingyuan zengchu” 青原赠处 does not record the theory of “being neither good nor bad” suggests that he is opposed to this kind of experience. However, Zou Shouyi’s son Yingquan 颖泉, according to Huang Zongxi, “entered the marvelous and penetrated the mysterious, to the point of being encumbered by fantasies.”30 Huang’s point is that Yingquan believed mystical experience was so fundamental that he failed in the more substantial practices of caution and reverential fear (jieshen kongju). Zou Yingquan’s son Dehan 德涵 employed rigorous ascetic practices in his cultivation: “He closed himself in a room, practicing fervently until he forgot about food and sleep. His body became thin...After a time had passed, there was a sudden thundering and it was as if the window of Heaven opened, penetrating to the original truth. This is what [Lu] Jiuyuan called ‘the disclosure of principle.’”31 For this reason, Huang Zongxi said that he was more “encumbered by fantasies” than his father.

Gao Panlong’s account of his mystical experience is the most detailed among Ming Confucians. He wrote that his study could be divided into four major phases. At the age of 25 he had occasion to hear Gu Xiancheng 顾宪成 (1550–1612) lecture, at which point he committed himself to study. He first followed Zhu Xi’s teaching that “the best way to enter the Way is through reverence” (mo ru jing) from Daxue huowen 大学或问: “He thus focused his efforts on solemnity and restraint and sought to hold his heart within bounds. However, he felt his qi was blocked up and his body confined. It was truly uncomfortable. He gave up and returned to his old loose and lazy ways—there was nothing to be done.” The point of entry for this practice was breathing techniques, but he failed due to what Qigong experts call “losing effort” (shigong). After passing the civil service examination, “he went to Chaotian Temple to practice. He sat in quiet meditation in the monks’ quarters where his original form (benti) revealed itself. He suddenly recalled the line ‘stop evil and preserve integrity’ [from Zhouyi “Qian” hexagram “Wenyan” commentary(trans.)].He felt, thenand there, that hewas without evil and all was integrity, he no longer needed to search for integrity. At that moment he was at ease—it was as if his shackles had been taken off.” This initial experience of happiness and liberation was achieved through quiet meditation. The reference to “original form” refers to “original heart.” Several years later, on his way to Jieyang, he passed the Liuhe Pagoda in Hangzhou. Having an awakening (xing), he set out a mat in the middle of the boat and made a great effort to practice: “I established a rigorous schedule: half a day for quiet meditation, half a day for reading.” When he came to difficult places in meditation, he would employ the teachings of Cheng and Zhu, practicing “integrity and reverence through silence,” “viewing the place where happiness, anger, sadness, and pleasure have not yet stirred,” and “silent meditation to clear the heart and to embody the heavenly principle.”

Whether standing, sitting, eating or resting, these phrases were in my thoughts. At night I would not remove my clothes, sleeping only when at the point of extreme exhaustion. When I awoke, I returned to seated meditation. I employed the aforementioned methods in alternation. When heart and qi were clear, there was the image (qixiang) of filling Heaven and Earth.

But it didn’t last long.32

He tried all of the various practices of “silent middle” (jingzhong) discussed by Song Confucians, but the image he attained was the result of more typical practices of silence and should not count as a true mystical experience. The boat kept going for another couple of days, reaching Tingzhou:

We went by land to a hostel. There was a small tower there the front of which faced the mountains while its back overlooked a stream. What a pleasure it was to climb this tower! There I saw Master Cheng Hao saying: “There are the myriad affairs of the hundred officials and millions employed in the army, but to drink water and fall asleep on one’s own arm— there is pleasure in this. Ten thousand changes all happen on account of men, but in fact there is not a single affair in the world.” I was jolted awake (xing): “How true it is! There is really not a single affair in the world.” This thought lingered and then suddenly ended. It was as if an enormous burden had been put down. It was like a flash of lightning, penetrating and clear. And then I merged with the Great Transformations, no horizon in sight and no separation between Heaven, Man, inner, outer. It appeared that the universe was all the heart. My body (qiangzi) was the universe and the heart was its point of origin. Understood spiritually, there was not a single separate space. Before, I deeply detested those scholars who espoused theories of enlightenment, but now I see that this is normal and know that it is simply the best place for practice to start.33

Gao Panlong’s sudden enlightenment is grounded in silent meditative practice, but also incorporated the practice of reflecting on key phrases (huatou), “The heart should be in the body” (xin yao zai qiangzi li), a saying he had reflected on for many years. His heart “merged with the Great Transformations,” which is the union of self and universe in one form. “No separation between things” is the experience of eliminating all differences. The idea of “lightning-like” clarity has the characteristic of a mystical experience of profound understanding. When Liu Zongzhou 刘宗周 (1578–1645) said that he was “half embroiled in Chan,” this is what he means.

The mystical experiences of Song Learning of the Heart (Xinxue)

Mystical experiences in the Ming point the way to and provide a thread for understanding Song Confucianism. In the same way that Ming mystical experiences mostly came from the lineage of Yangming, Song experiences are most often seen in the scholarly lineage of Lu Jiuyuan (1139–1193).

When Lu Jiuyuan’s follower Yang Jian 杨简 (style Cihu 慈湖, 1141–1226):

...would gaze back (fan guan) at the origin, he became aware of the unity of Heaven, Earth and the myriad things. They are not outside of my heart. Lu Jiuyuan went to Fuyang, where there was a gathering in the evening at Shuangming Pavilion. At the gathering, Lu frequently used the words ‘original heart’ (benxin). Yang asked him, ‘What is this original heart?’ Jiuyuan replied...Hearing this, Yang suddenly felt an unadulterated clarity wash over his heart. He eagerly asked: ‘Is it this?’ Lu responded sternly: ‘What else is there?’ Yang excused himself and sat reverently until morning...When he would come to places of doubt in his reading, he would stay up all night unable to sleep. While sitting there stupidly, eager to understand, it was as if he suddenly peeled something off and his heart thereby

understood.”34

Yang Jian’s practice of silent meditation and “gazing back” (fan guan) allowed him to attain an experience of the unity of the universe and things. When he later heard Lu respond to his question, he was not immediately enlightened, but excused himself and “sat reverently until morning,” again employing the practice of silent meditation. This is how he attained an enlightened experience of “this heart.” For Yang Jian, his discipleship to Lu marks the shift from the extrovertive mystical experience of unity to the introvertive experience of “clarity of the original heart.”

From the perspective of mystical experience, Yang Jian’s Changes of the Self 己易 is not difficult to understand.35 Changes of the Self has traditionally been considered a work of profound absurdity, filled with empty and ungraspable words. For instance:

The Changes is me and no other. It is not right to treat the Changes as a book—the Changes is me. It is not right to treat the Changes as the transformations of Heaven and Earth—the

Changes is my own transformation.36

Viewed from the perspective of rational thought and common philosophical reflection, it is nearly impossible to fathom what epistemological basis there might be for such propositions. The reader can only sense a kind of absurd self-indulgence. However, Yang Jian’s philosophy is founded upon the description of a mystical experience that views the process of infinite change in the universe as unified with the self. The content of this description is not the result of rational and logical thought, but is rather a certain type of psychological experience. Yang Jian writes:

I realized one day that this heart is without form. It is unadulterated clarity without horizon. It is originally the same as Heaven and Earth. There is no inside and outside of its domain and it lives and nourishes with no borders.37

This “realization” (jue) is “enlightenment” (wu). At this time, Chen Chun 陈淳 (Beixi 北溪, 1149–1223) criticized Lu Jiuyuan’s scholarship, saying: “In the Zhe region, Lu’s influence is great and his followers Yang and Yuan [Xie燮] are venerated. Riding this fame and influence, they don’t read, they don’t investigate principles, preferring to spend all their time doing seated meditation.”38 Chen Chun’s assessment is not unfounded. Ye Shuixin 叶水心 (1150–1223) pointed out: “When Lu came out and said that shortcuts could be taken, many men said that they were moved and enlightened.” His followers “sat in pristine meditation and gazed inwards.”39 The latter refers to the basic practice of Learning of the Heart.

Yang Jian’s follower Ye Youzhi 祐之 (style Yuanji 元吉) focused his practice on “Jue si ji.” The Song Yuan Xue’an 宋元学案 describes his experience thus:

I picked up Yang Jian’s “Jue si ju” and read it. I understood that this was a mind that was bright and vast, a mind different from the twisting and turning theories of former scholars. I read and put these things into practice, daring not to give rise to any other ideas (qiyi). [One night] I woke up to the sound of drums. My whole body was covered in sweat. Losing my voice, I let out a sound: “This is not the sound of drums, but is the Grand Transformation of the original form.” It was like there was a thing in front of my eyes. When Yang Jian arrived in Wu, Ye respectfully sought out his instruction. Upon hearing the teaching of Yang Jian, that thing vanished into thin air. One of Yang’s poems says:

That sound you hear in the middle of the night is not a drum, All night long I listen to the calls of swans.

Are these the same or different? It’s hard to say, What thoughts? What concerns? All blend together.

From a few pieces of coal in the furnace comes heat, A small window in the sky spits forth enlightenment.

Get out of bed to see the endless sights,

Along the banks light shines clear for ten thousand miles.40

Ye Youzhi’s experience of enlightenment through sound is similar to the Chan koan about the monk Master Fu (孚上座) who heard the sound of an army bugle (jiaosheng) and was suddenly enlightened. “The light shines clear for ten thousand miles” is precisely the realm to which Yang Jian’s “Jue si ji” points.

Lu Jiuyuan’s other famous disciple Yuan Xie 燮 (style Heshu 和叔, 1144–1224)

....first met Lu in the capital. Lu described to him the penetrating understanding of the original heart. Yuan took up Lu’s teachings and thought long and hard about them, but things did not fit together and Yuan was not confident [in his grasp of the teachings]. Then one day, he had a profound and great awakening. He picked up a brush and wrote: ‘In searching for the Way with the heart, there are countless differences and distinctions. [But then] I fully embodied my Way. The Way is not found in others.’ Yang Jian and Yuan were both students of Lu so their understanding of the Way is the same.41

Yuan realized the oneness of heart and Way. The text does not say that his “great awakening” came from meditative experience, but it is also a kind of mystical experience similar to that of Yang Jian.

Of Lu’s students, Zhu Xi disliked Fu Mengquan 傅梦泉 the most. “One day,” in the early years of Fu’s study,

...he was reading the “Gongsun Chou” chapter of Mencius when suddenly he found his heart in perfect resonance with the text and there was a sense of openness in his breast...He would often say to people: ‘People stand between Heaven and Earth and are indestructible. If one is able to cultivate oneself in this way and expand the good beginnings of one’s innate mind (liang xin), one can fill the whole universe and connect past and present.’42

Fu lost his mind and died, a fact Zhu Xi believed to be related to the one-sidedness of his practice—in other words, Fu went off the deep end. Around the same time, another man Shi Zongzhao 石宗昭, who subscribed to the teachings of Lu, Zhu and Lü Zuqian (1137–1181), wrote an epitaph upon the death of Lü saying “bright lightning and fiery rocks are insufficient for practice.” Lu Jiuyuan was greatly angered by the comment. The comment likely refers to the experience of sudden enlightenment taught by Lu.

Ye Shuixin and Chen Chun accused Lu for teaching only the practice of quiet meditation. In fact, Lu never made this the core of his teaching. However, he did teach people to meditate. Yulu includes a record made by Zhan Fumin 詹阜民:

I thought about this and gathered together my heart, but was only able to cast light on things (zhao wu). On another occasion, I was in attendance at the side of the teacher. I didn’t make any inquiries, but Master [Lu] said: “It would be good if students close their eyes more often.” I thus would sit peacefully and shut my eyes when I had nothing else to do. I would focus on holding to myself (caocun) day and night. This went on for half a month when, one day on the way out, I suddenly realized that this heart of mine had returned to being clear and bright. I stood there quietly stunned and then went to see the Master. His gaze met me as I entered and he said: “This principle has been revealed.” I asked how he could tell. He said: “I saw it in your pupils.” He then said to me: “The Way is nearby, isn’t it?” I said: “Yes, it is.”43

This is sufficient proof that Lu did teach his students to meditate in order to attain an experience of unity between self and the Way and a realization of the clarity of the original mind. This is why when Zou Dehan had his experience of “original truth” he said:

“This is what Lu Jiuyuan called the disclosure of principle.”

Not only did Lu’s students and the students of his students have this type of experience, even those who admired his teaching at a distance did as well. When Zhao Yansu 赵彦肃 (style Ziqin 子钦, twelfth century) died, Yang Jian composed a Xingzhuang for him:

With the completion of the polymath examination (hongbo ke), he went to study the books of former scholars, claiming that he understood them all. He was friends with Master Hui Yanshen with whom he discussed the “Great Ultimate” (Taiji). When he was unable to experience (qi) this, he was so frustrated that he forgot to sleep and eat. He thus burned several boxes of things he had used for his previous studies and committed every moment to practice. One day, while on a boat in the Song River, he heard the morning call of a rooster followed by the barking of dogs. His body was covered in sweat and the blockages in his breast from the day before were all gone within an instant. Later, he told this to his students, adding: “I don’t know where this sweat came from.” On the occasion of his initial awakening, he wrote this poem:

Keep to the environs of things—all is familiar scenery,

But by drowning in the midst things one cannot grasp the crux; Empty the heart and block out a hundred thoughts, Still there are layers of dust blocking the way.

At the clouds edge, flitting wings can be spied, At the bottom of the water, dancing scales can be seen.

Checkmate the old man from Lu [Confucius],

Laughter brings down the man standing above the Hao [Zhuangzi].44

Zhao’s experience of enlightenment—hearing various sounds, body covered in sweat—is very close to that of Ye Youzhi. The method is to focus one’s attention on the inner heart for an extended period of time. Then, with the aid of some kind of occurrence, one attains a profound experience. Chen Kui 陈葵 (style Shuxiang 叔向, 1139–1194), a man respected by Zhu Xi, was similar to Lu in his approach to study. Ye Shuixin wrote an epitaph for him, which said: “He was friends with Wei Yizhi 魏益之. He hated that his old mind was muddy and couldn’t be made clear; his memory was frustrating and unreliable. Wei taught him to get rid of all the things in his heart and stand alone at the origin of things. It wasn’t long before he had a sudden great enlightenment. It was as if everything appeared to him.”45 The description of this experience is not very detailed and is therefore difficult to analyze further.

Lu’s teachings put a premium on simplicity and elegance and taught one to “venerate virtue and nature” (zun de xing) in order to reveal the original heart. This teaching is not without profound insights. When he says that he was able to fully attain the teachings of Mencius, these are also not empty words. Yet, there are often places of confusion in the path of study laid out by the Lu school. How does one go about revealing the original heart? Students often were anxious about not knowing how to proceed. If we look at the record of Zhan Fumin’s meditative practice, we know that Lu Jiuyuan affirmed this kind of experiential practice. This has to do with the fact that Lu himself also initially had this kind of experience, even though it does not form the basis of his later teaching. In this regard, he is more or less the same as Yangming. At the age of three or four, Lu asked about the bounds of the Heaven and Earth. He thought hard about his for many years, until a great enlightenment occurred at the age of 14. Lu’s Nianpu records:

From the age of three or four he inquired into the bounds of Heaven and Earth, but was unable to get an answer. When he stopped eating [on account of the anxiety], his father scolded him. He set the problem aside. But the question always remained in his breast. Later, as a teenager, he was reading old books and came across the characters for universe, yuzhou. The commentary said: “The four directions and both above and below are called yu. The past and the present are called zhou.” He suddenly awoke and said: “So it is without bounds!” He picked up his brush and wrote: “The things in the universe are the things within my allotment; the things within my allotment are the things in the universe...” He also wrote: “The universe is my heart. My heart is the universe.”...He also wrote: “The universe does not limit and divide people. People limit and divide the universe themselves.”46

Lu’s mystical experience is one of unity between heart and universe that transcends the bounds of space and time. Scholars of Neo-Confucianism often seek rational explanations of phrases like “my heart is the universe.” It is not that these phrases cannot be understood in such a way, but when seen in the light of the tradition of mystical experience running from Lu Jiuyuan to Wang Yangming, we should seek an explanation outside of rationality and explain it in the terms of that tradition. In this way, we can better understand how a teenager can come up with these stunning phrases. Later, when Lu and Xu Ziyi 徐子宜 examination they discussed the phrase “Men are the most venerated in the nature of Heaven and Earth” (tiandi zhi xing ren wei gui). Lu said of their conversation: “Ziyi said everything that I wanted to say, but he had never had the experience I had.”47 Here, Lu is referring to the fact that he actually had an experience of enlightenment. Yang Jian’s phrase “Heaven and Earth are my Heaven and Earth; transformations are my transformations” is in the tradition of Lu’s teaching “the universe is my heart; my heart is the universe.”

The role of mystical experience within the tradition of Song Cheng-Zhu Confucianism is of great importance for our understanding of Song Neo-Confucianism. Zhu Xi’s most important early teacher was Li Yanping 李延平 (1093–1163) who studied with Luo Congyan 罗从彦 (1072–1135). Luo Congyan studied with Yang Shi 杨时 (style Guishan 龟山, 1053–1135), follower of the two Cheng brothers. The lineage of Yang Shi, Luo Congyan, Li Yanping and finally Zhu Xi is refereed to as the Southern School (Daonan xuepai). However, if we focus exclusively on the intellectual lineage, we are unable to understand the features of the Southern School and the major changes brought about by Zhu Xi.

From Yang Shi to Li Yanping, the Southern School greatly elevated the position of the Zhongyong’s 中庸 moral philosophy, with special emphasis on the theory of “before and after stirring” (weifa yifa). The Zhongyong says:

“Equilibrium” (zhong) refers to happiness, anger, sadness, and pleasure before they are stirred (wei fa). When they are stirred and accord with measure (jie), this is called harmony (he). “Equilibrium” is the great root (ben) of the world; “Harmony” is the universal Way.

Yang Shi underscores the point: “Students should embody with their hearts the realm before happiness, anger, sadness and pleasure are stirred. In this way the meaning of “equilibrium” (zhong) will naturally appear.”48 This statement moves the Zhongyong statement on moral philosophy into the realm of experiential practice. “Experience before stirring” (tiyan weifa) became the fundamental tenet of Yang’s teaching. This is especially remarkable in the development that occurred between Luo Congyan and Li Yanping. Zhu Xi writes:

When Master Yang first taught in the southeast, many men came to study with him. However, in terms of immersion in thinking and commitment to practice, there was only Luo Congyan...[Li Yanping] heard that a man from his prefecture, Luo Congyan, had received the teachings of the Cheng brothers at the foot of Yang, so he went to study with him. He received the most profound of all that was transmitted.49

This shows that the line from Yang to Luo to Li is the orthodox transmission of the Southern School. Luo Congyan and Li Yanping spent their lives at work trying to “experience before stirring.” Li once wrote to Zhu Xi:

I used to study under Master Luo. All day long we would sit silently (jingzuo), face to face, only talking about texts (wenzi) and never a miscellaneous word. Master enjoyed sitting silently very much. Sometimes without my knowing it he would retreat to a room to do nothing but sit in quiet. Master asked us to see the equilibrium before the stirring of happiness, anger, sadness, and pleasure from within quietude—what is the image (qixiang) of the time before stirring?”50 Zhu Xi also records:

When he wasn’t lecturing, Master Li would sit sternly (weizuo) all day long in order to verify (yan) the image of happiness, anger, sadness and pleasure before they were stirred, searching for what is called “equilibrium.” After doing this for a long time, he came to understand that the great root of the world truly resides in this place.51

Li also taught this to Zhu Xi. Zhu Xi wrote:

Master Li taught people to experience (tiren) from within quietude the image of the great root before stirring. Thus, in handling affairs and engaging with things one might naturally accord with the measure. This is the teaching passed down from Yang Shi.52 “Experiencing before stirring” is the fundamental teaching of the Southern School. The practice of Luo and Li is entirely focused on silent meditation which, when practiced for a long period of time, allows for the attainment of an experience that “the great root of the world truly resides in this place.” The “experience of before stirring,” like the other mystical experiences discussed above, requires the subject to transcend all thought and emotion, quieting thought and emotion to the highest extent possible and transforming the activities of the individual consciousness into a state of pure intuition (zhijue). In the cultivation of this supreme silence, attention is focused on the inner heart and the subject seeks to feel the pure state of spirit without reflection, emotion, desire, and thought. The successful practitioner will often suddenly attain a feeling of being united with the outside world or the clear expression of pure consciousness. Thus, the basic teaching of the Southern School is intuitionism and includes mysticism. Of course, the establishment of this kind of mysticism within Confucianism is a result of the influence of Chan and Daoism. Many Neo-Confucians naturally picked up on this kind of psychological experience in their study of Chan cultivation or Daoist longevity practices. However, the difference between Confucianism and the other two schools is the attempt to make inner experience into a means of raising one’s level of character and cultivating one’s heart and nature. In his youth, Zhu Xi practiced with Chan master Daoqian of the Kaishan temple and became very familiar with the Chan practice of “experiencing the inside” (limian tiren). After writing about Li teaching him to search out the “before stirring,” he immediately added: “This practice is very similar to that of Chan—separated only by a

fine line. But this fine line really takes up a lot of space.”53

The meditative experiences of Luo Congyan and Li Yanping and their constant search for a sensation of the “great root” derive from Yang Shi. Not only did Yang advocate the experience of “before stirring,” his understanding of “investigating things” (gewu) was deeply influenced by this interest in experience. Yang wrote: “One cannot exhaustively know things. By reflecting on the self there is integrity (fan shen er cheng) [from Mengzitrans.] and all the things of the world are shown to be in me.”54 Later, Zhu Xi would frequently criticize Yang Shi on this point:

Yang Shi has said that by reflecting on the self and thereby having integrity the principles of all things are within me. But you must go out and understand the principles of all things. What would we come to if you could, by reflecting on the self and having integrity, naturally have the principles of all things within oneself!55

Zhu Xi always speaks from the perspective of rationalism and therefore did not realize that the practice Yang Shi is referring to is, like Yang Shi’s other method of “experiencing before stirring,” grounded in a mystical experience.

Yang Shi’s theory of experiencing “all things within me” has its origins in the teachings of the older Cheng brother, Cheng Hao. Cheng Hao wrote:

Humaneness (ren) is the blending of things into one form...By preserving (cun) [the heart] for a long time, things become clear spontaneously. Why would I need to exhaustively search [to understand principle]? The Way and things are not opposed. The word ”great” is insufficient to clarify its meaning. The function of Heaven and Earth is my function (yong). Mencius said that all things are in me. I only need to reflect on the self so that there is integrity—this is great pleasure (da le).56

From this we can see that Cheng Hao’s notion of the unity of things is not merely a rational view, it includes elements of mystical experience. Since this experience involves the union of the individual with the universe and the myriad things, the concomitant “great pleasure” is a natural component of the experience. The attainment of this experience is different from Zhu Xi’s theory of investigating things one at a time. “By preserving for a long time, things become clear spontaneously. Why would I need to exhaustively search?” While Cheng Hao does not explain the meaning of “preserving” (cun) in great detail, it refers to the use of integrity and reverence in the preservation of the heart. It goes without saying that it also includes the practice of silent meditation consistently advocated by Cheng. Hence, when Ming Confucians experienced enlightenment, they always referred to the notion of a single form uniting all things. Huang Zongxi wrote that Gao Panlong’s experience was close to that of Yang Shi’s “reflecting on the self and having integrity.” The connection between these things was no secret to NeoConfucians. Song Yuan Xue’an records: “Cheng Hao liked Yang Shi; Cheng Yi liked Shangcai.” Zhu Xi is third in the lineage going back to Yang Shi yet his scholarship is closest to Cheng Yi. Therefore it seems reasonable to think that Yang Shi transmitted the teachings of Cheng Yi to Zhu Xi. However, I have often been perplexed by this situation: why, then, was Yang Shi so well liked by Cheng Hao? In his search for a psychological experience of “before stirring” Yang Shi shows that he transmitted the teachings of Cheng Hao. Thus, when Yang Shi left Cheng Hao to return home, the latter waxed poetic, saying: “My Way now goes to the South.”

When Zhu Xi was studying with Li Yanping, Li strongly encouraged Zhu to make progress in his experience of “before stirring.” However, in the words of Zhu Xi, “early on I studied the Zhongyong under Master Li who taught to search for happiness, anger, sadness and joy before they are stirred. The Master passed away before I understood.”57 “In the past I heard my teacher encourage us to set our hearts to silently understanding the subtle point that divides the before and after stirring. ..While I heard this teaching, I was unable to figure out what it referred to.”58 “I heard Master Li talk about this in great detail. ..At the time I didn’t understand and later I didn’t think deeply about it.”59

Regardless of whether or to what degree Zhu Xi’s unshakeable commitment to chapter and verse style (zhangju) reading prevented him from focusing on this kind of experience, it is clear that he never had such an experience—even though he made efforts before the death of Li Yanping. Precisely because of his inability to find a usable experience, he continued on his search, which produced two different insights into “equilibrium” and “harmony,” the first in 1166 and the second in 1169. This search led him to a different path. He no longer sought out the meaning of “before and after stirring” in psychology, but rather in philosophy, thus giving rise to his entire theoretical system of heart-natureemotion. Practice was no longer about the attainment of a mystical experience. The practice of reflecting on “before stirring” was employed as a way of retrieving and restraining (shou lian) heart and body in the cultivation of the subject. Zhu Xi’s “cultivation for the advancement of study” (hanyang jinxue) and “emphasizing reverence for the attainment of knowledge” (zhujing zhizhi) show that he has departed from the original trajectory of the Southern School and turned onto the path of Cheng Yi’s rationalism.

Neo-Confucian criticisms of mysticism

As seen above, there are more than a few descriptions of mystical experiences in Song and Ming Neo-Confucianism. However, those who consider mystical experience fundamental to practice belong to the Learning of the Heart tradition. Song and Ming followers of Zhu Xi have consistently criticized the mystical tendencies of Learning of the Heart from the perspective of their own rationalist views and their rigorous, self-restraint based cultivation practices.

Zhu Xi studied Chan and is therefore quite familiar with mystical experiences. He criticized Lu Jiuyuan’s teachings for being too similar to those of Chan:

When Chan masters talk about “dried shit stick” or other things, there is no other higher meaning and one can’t use it to think about ethical principles. The heart is completely forbidden in the hope that after a long, long time there will be some sudden and spontaneous excitement coming from clarity (ming kuai chu)...Today, Lu’s scholarship is completely Chan.60

He also wrote:

It’s like the followers of Lu Jiuyuan. When you see them for the first time, they’re always talking about their enlightenment, but then when you look at how they act they’re all sixes and sevens. It seems that what is called profound enlightenment means that there was some insight at the time and a feeling of purity and a passing excitement (kuai), but after a while it gradually diminishes. How could one depend on this?61

Zhu Xi does not refute the reality of the experience. He questions its dependability as a way of enhancing virtue. The belief that the original heart is present after the attainment of some type of experience—and that all thought is henceforth the product of that original heart—is precisely the source of absurdity and confusion among Lu’s students.

Luo Qinshun 罗钦顺 (1465–1547), who Rong Zhaozu 容肇祖 (1897–1994) spoke of in terms of “the lingering power of Zhu scholarship” (Zhu xue houjin) in the early Ming, describes his early study of Buddhist classics:

When I was serving as an official in the capital, I came across an old monk and casually asked him how it is that one might become a Buddha. He nonchalantly responded with a Chan phrase (Chan yu): “Buddha is the cypress in the courtyard.” I figured that this must have some meaning and focused my thoughts on it until morning. As I shifted my clothing and started to get up, I suddenly was enlightened and for no apparent reason my body was covered in sweat. After this I picked up the Chan compilation “Songs on Enlightenment” and read it. It was as if everything came together. I thought this was supremely strange and marvelous. It seemed that there were no other principles in the world greater than this.62

While Luo began with a reflection on a key phrase (can huatou) slightly different from the practice of silent inner reflection, the mystical experience is the same. After he returned to the study of Cheng and Zhu, he recognized that this enlightenment was merely “a product of the wonders of the spiritual sensation (lingjue)” and that “only Chan holds to this spiritual sensation and calls it the supreme Way.” He thus proceeded to criticize Lu Jiuyuan and Yang Jian for “being blinded by the wonders of light and shadows (guangjing) while overlooking the subtlety of ethical principles.” He criticized Chen Baisha, saying:

Now he hopes to cultivate a beginning from within quietude. How does he hope to understand the beginnings of goodness if he is always meditating and never has any intercourse with affairs and things? After hiding away for a while, he may have some sudden insight, but it is nothing more than the light and shadows of an empty spirit (xuling).”63

That is to say, mystical experience is nothing more than a fantasy or illusion (“light and shadows”) of the mind (“empty spirit”). It cannot be treated as the Great Way.

Luo Qinshun’s personal experience with these things makes his criticism powerfully persuasive. But, in fact, those students of Zhu Xi who lack this kind of experience also grasped the point. Hu Juren 胡居仁 (Jingzhai 敬斋, 1434–1484), writing before Luo, says:

Buddhists think that the “refined spirit” (jingling) is nature. If one focuses and holds to this, one can escape the cycle of birth and rebirth. Chen Gongfu says that things are limited, but I am unlimited—this is the same idea...Zhu Xi says that this is just “playing around with spirit (jingshen).” I think this truly grasps what it is all about. When Chen first went to practice quiet meditation and block out all thoughts, he remained quiet for a long time. His spirit became bright and shiny (guangcai) and there was not a thing left inside—he took this to be true emptiness.64

As Hu Juren points out, if Confucians do not try to exhaustively grasp the principle of things, preferring some partial view of the origin and loosely talking about “Heaven, Earth and things being one with me,” the result is that they are “not one with the Way.” He also understood that this kind of experience is nothing more than “playing around with spirit.”

Lü Jingye’s student Yang Tianyou 杨天游 said “practice is original form” (gongfu ji benti), a proposition that preceded and set the stage for that of Liu Zongzhou and Huang Zongxi. He criticized his contemporaries for:

...being unable to approach equilibrium and harmony with an honest mind, being unable to show reverent fear (jieju) in front of what is unseen and unknown, and hoping to get a glimpse of the image of ‘before stirring’ from out of the blue (xuankong). They are unable to study Confucius and Yan Hui with an honest mind and hope to find, out of the blue, the locus in which Confucius and Yan Hui found pleasure (Kong Yan le chu).65

This is criticizing Learning of the Heart for turning the practice of experiencing “before stirring” and “the locus of Confucius and Yan Hui’s pleasure” into a mystical experience. He specifically noted the following:

Sitting silently (jingzuo) can slide into Chan meditation (Chan ding). Holding and preserving (caocun) can be misunderstood as breath control. Emphasizing reverence (zhujing) can be erroneously equated with awakening. Investigating things and exhaustively understanding principles (gewu qiongli) can become confused with perfect enlightenment. Preserving the heart and cultivating nature can get trapped in the idea of revealing nature through the heart (ji xin jian xing).66

Ming Dynasty Yangming scholarship was invested precisely in these experiential techniques—Chan meditation, breath control, seeing nature by understanding the heart (ming xin jian xing)—even though the purpose was to become a Confucian sage. Wang Shihuai 王时槐 (Nantang 南塘, 1522–1605) “studied Chan deeply and deciphered how it might be confused for the truth at a point so close to principle.” His Yulu records:

Latter day Confucians mistakenly believe that emotional knowledge (qingshi) is the form of the heart and set to work ordering emotional knowledge. They seek out stability and purity but are, alas, unable to attain it. If they attain anything it is simply the ability to hold to a thought or grasp light and shadows. They make much of this, thinking they have attained something, but it is, finally, not the original shape (bense) of the heart.67

From this we know that even followers of Yangming criticized this kind of “playing around with light and shadows.” Huang Zongxi’s Ming Ru Xue’an is filled with this kind of criticism. For instance, when talking about followers of Yangming in Zhe he says: “At this time many students of the school simply took ‘flowing’ (liuxing) to be the original form—this is playing with light and shadow (guangying).”68 In his description of Luo Jinxi’s 罗近溪 (1515–1588) scholarship, Huang writes: “The student doesn’t reflect, thinking erroneously that clarity and depth is the original form of the heart. His heart is deeply confused and he nostalgically holds to these shadowy lights (jingguang).”69 These are all criticisms of taking mystical experience to be “original form.”

According to Huang Zongxi, Yang Shiqiao’s 杨时乔 (style Zhizhai 止斋, d. 1609) scholarship is closest to that of Luo Qinshun. Yang Shiqiao’s discussion of mystical experience is particularly clear:

Of late, only those of the Chan tradition know nothing of the Way. They think that the empty place of the human heart, blood and qi is goodness; the spiritual place (ling chu) is knowledge...By closing the eyes and gazing within, the blood and qi converge (ningju) and the spiritual place emits light—this is sensation, insight, enlightenment and the height of knowledge.70

In the last few decades, many students of the Learning of the Heart call this Buddhist practice good knowledge or even the vehicle for ascent (shang cheng): being one with the heart, blood and qi converge and settle, the empty spirit (xuling) produces wisdom and unbounded, penetrating understanding. They see proof of this in Confucius’ word “ascent” [from “ascending understanding” (shangda) in Analects, trans. note] and look down on those who instruct students to search for principle outside.71

To analyze this Buddhist practice, further, I would say that that “empty spirit” is called knowing; producing wisdom is called awakening; and unbounded, penetrating understanding is called enlightenment. Put together we would say knowledge-awakening-enlightenment is the closure of eyes and ears and the gathering together of spirit (jingshen). It might also be called light and shadows within the body. It’s the same thing.72

In his summary of the Buddhist and Learning of the Heart experience, penetrating understanding of the original truth is an introvertive experience of the original mind, boundless understanding is the extrovertive experience of unity with the universe. In fact, they are both “light and shadows within the body,” that is to say they are merely a natural physiological and psychological response (“light and shadows” is the mental imagination).

Conclusion

The mystical experience of Learning of the Heart can be traced back to Mencius. Mencius says: “The myriad things are all within me. By reflecting on the self there is integrity—there is no greater pleasure.” How exactly the myriad things can all be within me is not only a constantly debated issue in contemporary scholarship, it was debated in the Song and Ming periods as well. The fact that Cheng and Zhu explained “myriad things” as the “principles of myriad things” shows the trouble that Mencius’ proposition made for rationalist philosophers. As this essay has described, Mencius’ teaching is not only completely comprehensible from the perspective of mysticism, it is also the source of this tradition and, to a large degree, determined the content and explanation of later Confucian experiences. The descriptions provided by Chen Baisha, Nie Shuangjiang, Hu Zhi, Jiang Xin, and others, not to mention the absurd descriptions provided by Lu Jiuyuan and Yang Jian, all refer to this kind of experience. While the phrase “reflecting on the self there is integrity” is not detailed, it seems reasonable to interpret it as “gazing within” (neiguan). It also seems fair to say Mencius’ “cultivating one’s expansive qi” (shan yang haoran zhi qi) has similarities to the practice of breath control. “There is no greater pleasure” also describes the sense of pleasure accompanying all mystical experiences. Understood in the context of the Confucian mystical experiences referred to above, this reading doesn’t seem farfetched.

The basic features of the Confucian mystical experience can be summarized as follows:

(1) Unity of self and all things

(2) Unity of universe and heart or the idea that the entire universe and the things within it are in the heart

(3) Disclosure of the heart’s form (xinti) (namely “pure consciousness”)

(4) The disappearance of all distinctions and transcendence of time and space

(5) Sudden, spontaneous enlightenment

(6) High-level of excitement, pleasure, strong sense of surprise or physiological reactions (“body drenched in sweat”)

These features are basically the same as the features of mystical experiences in various religions as discussed by scholars of comparative religion.

The division of mystical experience into two types, introvertive and extrovertive, did not begin with Stace. Many scholars have used different terms of art to describe a similar divide. For instance, Rudolf Otto divides mysticism into the inward way and the outward way.73 Evelyn Underhill divides it into introversion and extroversion.74 In practice, the distinction between these two types of mystical experience is perhaps not as clear or precise as the theoretical divide suggests, but the basic distinction is this: the content of the introvertive mystical experience is the original mind; that of the extrovertive experience is the universe. Confucian mystical experience can also be divided into these two basic types. The unity of self and all things is representative of the extrovertive type. “The universe is my heart” and the “disclosure of the heart’s form” are two types of introvertive experience. The basic method for realizing a mystical experience in Confucianism is “quiet meditation” (jingzuo), namely “silent gazing within” and “returning to profound silence in order to understand emotion” (guiji yi tong gan).

“Disclosure of the heart’s form” is not unfamiliar to Buddhism and Chan (see the writings of D.T. Suzuki).75 What is left when someone gets rid of all thought, feeling, desire and sense of the outside world? Only pure consciousness itself. This is a paradox: mystical experience is a real experience, but it has no precise content. It is consciousness, but it is consciousness without content. Westerner’s refer to this as pure consciousness or pure ego. Ancient Chinese called it “the form of the heart,” the true form of this heart,” or “the original form of the heart.” “Pure” refers to the fact that it has no experiential content. This is different from the pure, undefined unity resulting from the dialectic in Hegel’s philosophy.

The idea “universe is my heart, my heart is the universe” is one step further down the line than the “disclosure of the heart’s form.” In the experience of Hinduism, people not only experience pure consciousness, they also sense a transcendence of the boundary between subject and object. The pure ego is united with Brahma. In other words, the individual “small” self is united with the penultimate reality of the universe, the universal or cosmic self.76

Stace argued that the pure absence of distinctions is the essence of the introvertive experience, suggesting that “emptiness,” “nothingness” (wu) and “pure consciousness” are all different ways of saying one or oneness. This emphasizes similarities without seeing the differences. In fact, the same practice of silent meditation might produce different experiences. This is largely determined by the subconscious of the subject, or the purpose given by the practitioner to the experience. Using the same or similar practices of cultivation, the Christian experience is perhaps “unity with God,” while the NeoConfucian Learning of Principle (Lixue) experience is “unity with things.” The Buddhist experience is “emptiness,” while Neo-Confucian Learning of the Heart experiences the “original heart.” The horizon of each is different. While Confucianism absorbed the mystical tradition from Buddhism and Daoism, it would be fundamentally wrong to say that Lu Jiuyuan or Wang Yangming’s teachings are Chan. The initial impulse for and final result of Learning of the Heart mystical experience is not the search for the highest existence of the soul or emptiness. It is the attainment of a spiritual world (jingshen jingjie).

Many years ago, Feng Youlan argued that Cheng Hao was the founder of Song and Ming Learning of the Heart. However, he was basically interested in whether a divide was made between the “above form” (xing er shang) and the “within form” (xing er xia). Whether this divide can be made deserves more research. From the evidence offered in this essay, it is clear that Cheng Hao’s thought and cultivation practices are related to the later development of Learning of the Heart. It is clear that the development of Song and Ming Learning of the Heart with its focus on the work of Mencius absorbed the mystical tradition. For this school of thought, mystical experience is not only the method or practice for advancement to sage-hood, it also provides a psychological ground for their philosophy.

However, psychological experience is largely random and cannot be transmitted through universal guidelines. It must be experienced by the individual alone and then only after a long period of cultivation and practice. Unlike the spontaneous practice of He Xiangzhuang’s qigong, it is not something that can be grasped by the average person by following simple guidelines for practice. On the other hand, this experience cannot be maintained for long—some last for a very short duration—and once lost it is difficult to regain (see, for example, Hu Zhi’s experience). For this reason, the lack of universal efficacy and dependability calls into question the usefulness of inner experience as a means for the cultivation of virtue—even if it might be consistently effective for some people. This kind of mystical experience is also primarily a subjective psychological phenomenon and does not show the practitioner that he has grasped true, objective reality. Many chaste women in the Middle Ages, when longing for Jesus, had the experience of being embraced, but the experience is not real. Modern psychologists can use hypnotism and medication to produce mystical experiences. Living in the modern era of scientific development, we must use reason to survey the mystical experiences of Confucianism.

Without doubt, in the line from Mencius to Lu and Wang, the emphasis on ethical subjectivity and awareness of the innately good heart (liangxin zijue) made huge contributions to Confucianism. However, their metaphysical propositions—“myriad things are all within me,” “humaneness is the unity of Heaven, Earth and things,” “the universe is my heart, my heart is the universe,” “there is nothing outside the heart,” etc.—are all associated with mystical experience. We might inquire of the Learning of the Heart approach: is it necessary to ground “the application of the innately good heart,” the unity of knowing and action, the expansion of the four beginnings, and the completion of the heart (jinxin) in the propositions “the myriad things are all within me” and “my heart is the universe?” Does one need to have the experience of “disclosing the heart’s form” or “penetrating clarity?” In other words, without these experiences, is it possible to establish Confucian ethical subjectivity and Confucian metaphysics? For the rationalists in the Confucian tradition, the answer is in the affirmative. If we hope to reestablish Chinese “philosophy,” this is a direction. However, in recent Learning of the Heart, Xiong Shili has his own entirely new ontology without reference to any mystical experience.

In terms of the history of philosophy, the experiential teachings of Mengzi, Lu Jiuyuan, and Wang Yangming have provided a unique form of thought different from Western philosophy. It is neither a kind of “subjective idealism” nor a type of “egoism.” Mou Zongsan defined Laozi’s thought as “world metaphysics” (jingjie xingshangxue).77 Similarly, we might call Learning of the Heart “experiential metaphysics.” Experience or enlightenment are modes of human intellectual activity, mystical experience being an extreme type of human experience. My teacher Zhang Dainian pointed out many years ago that the emphasis on the experience of enlightenment is one of the unique features of Chinese philosophy.78 Mystical experience demonstrates the penultimate form of this feature. As a model, this is the same as Chinese aesthetics. The writings and expressions of earlier thinkers were often the result of personal experience. Hence, later scholars could not simply look at their writings, but needed to use their own practice to reproduce the inner experience of the author. In doing so, one hoped to achieve a kind of spiritual state (jingshen jingjie). They weren’t looking to “reflect” the “objective world,” but rather wanted to “express” their own “subjective world.”79 This is a feature of Chinese culture and Chinese philosophy that cannot be discussed at greater length here. Of course, Chinese aesthetics is not all “expression” just as Chinese philosophy is not all “experience.” Rather, the full development of this kind of experience is simply one feature of the culture.

The question of mystical experience involves many other questions as well—for instance, the relationship between intuition and enlightenment80 or its relationship to anti-intellectualism in intellectual history.81 Each of these could be researched further. However, the main task of this essay has been completed, so I will stop here.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was noted by the author.

Notes

1. Schwartz, “Lao-tzu and the Ineffable Tao,” 192.

2. Words written in English in the original have been preserved in bold. The translator has also chosen to translate several different Chinese words with the English word “experience.” While most of the occurrences of “mystical experience” translate the Chinese words shenmi tiyan 神秘体验, other words for experience include tiyan 体验, jingyan 经验, tiren 体认and yan 验. The classical Chinese texts quoted in this essay use the words tiren 体认 and yan 验 (“verify” or “confirm”).

3. Xie, Zongjiao zhexue 宗教哲学, 141.

4. S.T. Katz, Mysticism and Philosophical Analysis, 29.

5. James, Varieties of Religious Experience, 379–380.

6. W.T. Stace, Mysticism and Philosophy, 131.

7. See Smart, Reasons and Faiths, 55; Scharfstein, Mystical Experience, 99; Gimello, Mysticism and Meditation. The English word “meditation” here is supplied by the author to translate the Chinese word mingxiang. The word translated as “silent meditation” in the rest of this essay is, however, jingzuo 静坐 (lit. “silent sitting”).

8. The Chinese word xin has been consistently translated as “heart” in this essay. The reader should keep in mind that it may also be equivalent to the English word “mind” as well. The translator has, however, avoided the somewhat awkward, but accurate, dual translation “heartmind.”

9. Huang, Ming Ru Xue’an 明儒学案, 78.

10. Chen, “Fu Zhao tixue” 复赵提学, in Chen Baisha ji, juan 2.

11. Chen, “Fu Lin Junbo” 复林郡博, in Chen Baisha ji, juan 2.

12. Ibid.

13. Entry under gengwu 庚午year (1510).

14. Entry under wuchen 戊辰 year (1508).

15. Wang, Yangming quanshu 阳明全书, juan 37.

16. Wang, “Chuyang huiyu” 滁阳会语, in Longxi xiansheng quanji, juan 2.

17. Gao, Gaozi yishu 高子遗书, juan 5; Huang, “Yaojiang Xue’an” 姚江学案, see commentary.

18. Huang, Ming Ru Xue’an, juan 11, 223.

19. Ibid., juan 17, 372. 20. Ibid., juan 18, 390.

21. Ibid., juan 18, 390.

22. Luo, “Yu Jiang Daolin” 与蒋道林, in Nian’an quanji.

23. Huang, Ming Ru Xue’an, juan 12, 253.

24. Ibid., juan 12, 254.

25. Ibid., juan 21, 502.

26. Hu, “Kun xue ji”, in Ming Ru Xue’an, 521.

27. Ibid.

28. Huang, Ming Ru Xue’an, juan 28, 628.

29. Wang, Wang Xinzhai xiansheng quanji 王心斋先生全集, juan 2.

30. Huang, Ming Ru Xue’an, juan 16, 335.

31. Ibid.

32. Gao, “Kunxue ji” 困学记, juan 3.

33. Ibid., juan 3.

34. See Huang, “Cihu Xue’an” 慈湖学案, in Song Yuan Xue’an; and Yang, “Xingzhuang” 行状, juan 18.

35. Yang, Cihu xiansheng yihu 慈湖先生遗书, juan 7.

36. Ibid.

37. Ibid., juan 2.

38. Chen, “Da Chen Shixia” 答陈师夏, in Beixi daquanji.

39. Ye, “Hu Chongli muzhiming” 胡崇礼墓志铭, in Ye Shi ji.

40. Huang, Song Yuan Xue’an, juan 74.

41. Ibid., juan 75.

42. Ibid., juan 75.

43. Lu, “Yulu xia” 语录下, juan 35.

44. Huang, Song Yuan Xue’an, juan 58.

45. See ibid., juan 61; and Ye, “Chen Shuxiang muzhiming” 陈叔向墓志铭, in Ye Shi ji.

46. Lu, Xiangshan xiansheng quanji, juan 36; Entry for xinwei 辛未 in Nianpu.

47. Lu, Xiangshan xiansheng quanji, juan 36; Entry for renchen 壬辰 in Nianpu.

48. Yang, Yang Guishan ji 杨龟山集, juan 4.

49. Zhu, “Yanping Ligong xingzhuang” 延平李公行状, in Zhuzi wenji, juan 97.

50. Zhu, Entry for Eighth day of Fifth month in gengchen year 庚辰 of “Yanping dawen”, in Zhuzi wenji.

51. Zhu, “Yanping Ligong xingzhuang” 延平李公行状, in Zhuzi wenji.

52. Zhu, “Da He Shujing er” 答何叔京二, in Zhuzi wenji, juan 40.

53. Zhu, “Da Luo Canyi liu” 答罗参议六, in Zhuzi wenji xuji, juan 5.

54. Huang, “Guishan Xue’an” 龟山学案, in Song Yuan Xue’an.

55. Zhu, Zhuzi yulei 朱子语类, juan 62.

56. Cheng and Cheng, Er Cheng ji 二程集, part 1 of juan 2.

57. Zhu, “Zhonghe jiushuo xu” 中和旧说序, in Zhuzi wenji.

58. Zhu, “Da He Shujing” 答何叔京, in ibid., juan 40.

59. Zhu, “Da Lin Zezhi” 答林择之, in ibid., juan 43.

60. Zhu, Zhuzi yulei, juan 124.

61. Ibid., juan 114.

62. Luo, Kunzhi ji 困知记.

63. Ibid.

64. Huang, Ming Ru Xue’an, juan 2, 42.

65. Ibid., juan 8, 157.

66. Ibid., juan 8, 157.

67. Ibid., juan 20, 485. 68. Ibid., juan 13, 272.

69. Ibid., juan 34, 762.

70. Ibid., juan 42, 1028.

71. Ibid., 1030.

72. Ibid., 1032.

73. Otto, Mysticism East and West, passim.

74. Underhill, Mysticism, passim.

75. See, for instance, Suzuki, Mysticism: Christian and Buddhist.

76. See Stace, Mysticism and Philosophy, 86–90.

77. Mou, Zhongguo zhexue shijiu jiang 中国哲学十九讲.

78. Zhang, Zhongguo zhexue dagang 中国哲学大纲.

79. See Li Zehou, Zhongguo meixue shi 中国美学史, juan 1.

80. See relevant essays by Tu Wei-ming 杜维明, for instance, Humanity and Self-Cultivation, 162.

81. See Yu, Lishi yu sixiang 历史与思想, 96.

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