Gems of Chinese Literature/Han Wên-Kung-A Taoist Priest

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The Unicorn

Gems of Chinese Literature (1922)
translated by Herbert Allen Giles

A Taoist Priest by Han Wên-Kung

On a Bone from Buddha’s Body

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HAN WÊN-KUNG.

768-824 a.d.

[From Mr. Watters’ invaluable Guide to the Tablets in a Confucian Temple, I learn that we should wash our hands in rose-water before taking up the works of Han Wên-kung, whose official name was Han Yü, Wên-kung being his title by canonisation. Known as the “Prince of Literature,” and generally regarded as the most striking figure in the Chinese world of letters, he certainly ranks high as poet, essayist, and philosopher. In official life, he got himself into trouble by his outspoken attacks upon Buddhism, at that time very fashionable at Court, and was banished to the then barbarous south, where he gained great kudos by his wise and incorrupt administration. It was there that he issued his famous manifesto to the crocodile, at which we might well smile if it were not quite clear that to the author superstition was simply, as elsewhere, an instrument of political power. Han Wên-kung was ultimately recalled from his quasi-exile, and died loaded with honours. His tablet has been placed in the Confucian temple, which is otherwise strictly reserved for exponents of the doctrines of Confucius, “because,” as Mr. Watters states, “he stood out almost alone against the heresy of Buddhism which had nearly quenched the torch of Confucian truth.”]

Han Wên-Kung1523949Gems of Chinese Literature — A Taoist Priest1922Herbert Allen Giles

Of the five famous mountains of China, Hêng-shan is farthest off; and of all the myriad great and lofty eminences of the south, Hêng-shan is chief. That its influences are divine, follows therefore as a matter of course.

Three or four hundred miles to the south, the ground rises still higher, the mountains become more precipitous, the streams clearer and of swifter flow. The highest point is on a range running east and west, and about two-thirds of the way up is situated the town of Pin-chou. The pure pellucid atmosphere of China ends here. And ending here, in already transcendent purity, it sweeps round, and doubling back upon itself with tortuous course, enwraps the mountain in a two-fold coil.

Thus, if Hêng-shan is divine, how much more so must be Pin-chou, where perfection itself becomes more perfect still!

And as it cannot be that this wealth of nature, these heavenly influences, are lavished upon material products,―upon silver, mercury, cinnabar, crystal, stalactites, the glory of the orange and the pumelo, the beauty of the straight bamboo, the lofty growth of fine trees,―one would naturally conclude that such a spot must be the birthplace of genius, the home of loyal and honourable and virtuous men. But I never saw any; for the people there are sunk, alas! in superstition, in the worship of Lao Tzŭ and Fo.

However, there is my friend Liao, a priest of the religion of Tao.^[1] He is a native of these parts, and a man of infinite learning and goodness of heart. How can I class him among those who grovel in superstitious depths? He is one who has an eye for talent in others; and thus, though not available himself, men of action may be looked for in the ranks of his friends.

I asked him concerning this strange paradox, but he would not discuss the question, and I must await a more favourable opportunity.

↑ The superstition which later ages had developed out of the pure philosophy of Lao Tzŭ.

[1] The superstition which later ages had developed out of the pure philosophy of Lao Tzŭ.

[1]