One and Many a Comparative Study of Platos Philosophy and Daoism

One and Many A Comparative Study of Plato’s Philosophy and Daoism Represented by Ge Hong Ji Zhang

Monograph no. 22 Society for Asian and Comparative Philosophy •

One and Many

The Society for Asian and Comparative Philosophy Monograph Series was started in 1974. Works are published in the series that deal with any area of Asian philosophy, or any other field of philosophy examined from a comparative perspective. The aim of the series is to make available scholarly works that exceed article length, but may be too specialized for the general reading public, and to make these works available in inexpensive editions without sacrificing the orthography of non-Western languages.

Monograph No. 22 society for asian and comparative philosophy

One and Many A Comparative Study of Plato’s Philosophy and Daoism Represented by Ge Hong

Ji Zhang

University of Hawai‘i Press Honolulu

© 2012 University of Hawai‘i Press All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America 17 16 15 14 13 12   6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Zhang, Ji, 1966– One and many : a comparative study of Plato’s philosophy and Daoism represented by Ge Hong / Ji Zhang. p. cm. — (Monograph / Society for Asian and Comparative Philosophy ; no. 22) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-8248-3554-5 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1. One (The One in philosophy)  2. Many (Philosophy)  3. Plato.  4. Ge, Hong, 284-364. 5. Taoism.  I. Title.  II. Series: Monograph . . . of the Society for Asian and Comparative Philosophy ; no. 22. BD395.Z43 2012 181'.114—dc23 2011022903 University of Hawai‘i Press books are printed on acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Council on Library Resources

Designed by Josie Herr Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc.

To my father who taught me the real meaning of Confucian genealogy and to my mother and my wife who are still teaching me Daoist indeterminate action

Contents

List of Figuresix Abbreviationsxi Introduction  “One and Many” as an Ontological Problem

xiii

Part One  Textual studies Chapter 1  Ge Hong’s Doctrine of Xuan Dao

1

Chapter 2  Plato’s Answer to the Pre-Socratic Debate

32

Chapter 3  Ge Hong’s Preservation of the One

53

Chapter 4  Plato’s Doctrine of Forms

79

Chapter 5  Two Forms of Enlightenment

91

Chapter 6  Ge Hong’s Doctrine of Immortal Beings

104

Part Two  Comparative Ontology Chapter 7  Nothing145 Chapter 8  The One

183

Chapter 9  The Many

238

Conclusion  Comparative Methodology

315

Notes327 Bibliography347 Index357

vii

List of Figures

Fig. 1.1  The iconography of Xuan

10

Fig. 1.2  Names of hexagrams in the Book of Changes and headings in the Tai Xuan11 Fig. 1.3  Tetragrams in the Tai Xuan12–13 Fig. 1.4  A map of the Twenty-Eight Constellations

14

Fig. 1.5  Three influences on Ge Hong’s thought

30

Fig. 3.1  A female adept practicing the “Dao of Dividing Forms”

61

Fig. 3.2  The Inner Environment of the Daoist body

71

Fig. 3.3  Xuan 玄 and dan 丹72 Fig. 3.4  Inner and Outer Alchemy and the wheel of change

77

Fig. 6.1  The Three Pure Ones in later Daoist iconography

120–121

Fig. 6.2  The natural gods of the Twenty-Eight Constellations

122–123

Fig. 6.3  The Sixty Primordial Asterisms

124

Fig. 6.4  Two groups of talismans

125

Fig. 6.5  Some of the immortals portrayed in Ming dynasty woodcuts126–127 Fig. 6.6  The just soul and the just state in Plato’s hierarchy of One over many

136

Fig. 8.1  Two disputed models of the Huntian cosmology191 Fig. 8.2  The celestial and terrestrial spheres of the Twenty-Eight Constellations193 Fig. 8.3  The Armillary Sphere and the water clock

195

Fig. 8.4  A pictorial reconstruction of the astronomical clock tower

196 ix

x

figures

Fig. 8.5  Heaven inscriptions

198

Fig. 8.6  Reconstruction of the Gaitian theory

204

Fig. 8.7  Mathematical order of the World Soul

224

Fig. 8.8  Two distinctive schemes of the One and the many

234

Fig. 8.9  From One to many through the creative act

236

Fig. 9.1  Alchemic traditions between the Han and Jin periods

241

Fig. 9.2  Cycles of change and material time-space

263

Fig. 9.3  Embryogenesis of matter and the alchemic structure of the universe

266

Fig. 9.4  The Standard Model and the Supersymmetry Model

268

Fig. 9.5  Interchangeable Five Phases and unchangeable elements

274

Fig. 9.6  Four elements–solids, cosmos-dodecahedron

278

Fig. 9.7  Mathematics of triangles

289

Fig. 9.8  Transformation from triangles to solids

294

Abbreviations

AT

“Astronomical Treatise” of the Jinshu

DZ Daozang HNZ Huainanzi IC

Inner Chapters of the Baopuzi

LH

Lun heng

OC

Outer Chapters of the Baopuzi

OM

one and many

OVM

one over many

TPJ

Taiping jing

ZHDZ

Zhonghua Daozang

xi

Introduction “One and Many” as an Ontological Problem

Why does this book compare Ge Hong (AD 284–344?) with Plato (428– 347 BC)? 1 Reasons of personal intellectual history are involved. When I encountered Platonism in the field of Christian systematic theology, I admired its persistent search for inner coherence of truths and was deeply impressed by its transcendentalism and its unshakable influence on two streams of Western thought, philosophy and theology. Although I resonated with its idealism, over the years it became increasingly clear to me that this intellectual tradition imposed on me a demand that restricts the development of my own thought rooted in Chinese tradition. In contrast, Daoism has provided me with the free space that I was looking for in the formation of my intellectual identity. I first encountered Ge Hong when I attended a seminar at Harvard University in 1998. Since then I have felt that I was coming home to something that had unconsciously shaped my thought yet had not been properly named. Eagerness to come to terms with Daoism and Ge Hong’s religious philosophy in particular has become the inner drive for the current study. In an intellectual journey, to reconcile past learning and present passion is just as important as creating a future life out of life experiences. The book is not just an academic exercise to reconcile an existential gulf between two cultures, but is also an effort to turn inner cultural experience into insight to bridge the two. Historically Plato and Ge Hong never met. In the modern world of pluralism, to create a dialogue between the two represents a way through which a Western philosophy and an Eastern religion can meet face to face. The ancient debate on “the one and the many” still proves relevant in today’s challenge of globalization; a comparative study of the two traditions will explore the underlying issues of unity and plurality. Those who have read Plato—one of the most influential thinkers in the xiii

xiv

introduction

West—and Ge Hong—a less known Daoist thinker in China—may question whether there is anything that can be seriously compared between the two. The short answer is yes. The longer answer is in this book. Admittedly, not only do their systems of thought differ in content, but also their influence on later schools gave rise to two independently evolved traditions: Greek philosophy and Chinese Daoism. These traditions can be seen as two rivers that derive from two separate sources, travel through different cultural and historical landscapes, and discharge waters into different parts of the earth. We cannot assume that they will never meet. As the interpreter, the ocean is a free space to exchange answers, but the deriving questions are akin. Plato and Ge Hong lived on the same earth under the same heaven and shared concerns about the world. Where they really differ is in their thoughts for framing and articulating what reality is at the most fundamental level, or in Chinese what is Dao. This branch of metaphysics is called ontology. Although we have yet to come to terms with how Daoist ontology differs remarkably from the Parmenidean-Platonic being, one can name general schematic differences on how the most fundamental reality is categorized. For Plato, realities are plural ideas—the immaterial causes according to which physical things are made. For Ge Hong, the ultimate reality is Dao, and the world is relational to Dao. From Dao the myriad things derive, and to Dao realities will return. The former is causal, whereas the latter is relational. This ontological difference underlines two contrary worldviews. To accept the difference, however, does not imply that two systems are incomparable. We must reject the assumption that similarity is the basis for dialogue. Rather, the contrary is the starting point of comparison. I have selected the topic “one and many” as the starting point for comparison. The OM (as I abbreviate “one and many” from here onward) debate first appeared among pre-Socratic philosophers when they disputed irreducible reality as either one or many universals within the framework of cosmogony. Similarly, early the Daoist philosophers Laozi and Zhuangzi also posited Dao (one) and Nature (many) in cosmogonical terms. Philosophies were born out of these contexts. On the one hand, humans began to name what irreducible reality (or realities) is, and, on the other hand, they developed tools to explain what reality (or realities) does. After Parmenides Greek ontology adopted the language of being as the basic unit of reality and formal logic as the method of inquiry. Later it was Plato who systematically developed the language of being and argued that truth was transcendental and immaterial, but the knowledge about realities ought to be logically demonstrable with pure thoughts. In Daoism, ”one and many” has always been a philosophical question.



introductionxv

However, it is never framed in the logical antitheses “one not many” and “many not one.” Presented in the form of cosmogony, Laozi famously puts the OM argument into only thirteen characters: “Dao begets one, one begets two, two begets three, and three begets the ten thousand things” (Laozi 42).2 Ge Hong followed the early tradition and said, “That which is Dark (Xuan 玄) is the primordial ancestor of Nature and the Great Forebear of the myriad different [things]” (Inner Chapters 1).3 Compared with the Greek OM debate, which mainly takes the form of logic, the Daoist OM represented by Ge Hong is presented in the form of poetry. But beyond the difference of genres, there is philosophy. The OM argument is analogically put as a genealogical unfolding of life from one ancestor to many progeny. My interest in the one and the many was not directly conceived through philosophy, but through theology. Instead of through the “one becoming many,” my interest was inspired by the reverse thinking—how many may become one. I first encountered the OM problem was when I worked on my master’s thesis on apocalypticism. I argued that the end is the reversal of the beginning. Instead of the generation of the many, apocalypticism is the consummation of the many and the hope associated with the many becoming one. Under the supervision of Mark Heim at Andover Newton Theological School, I began to identify the Daoist nature of this reversal and to locate my intellectual voice within the scheme of religious pluralism. Looking into the field of comparative studies, I was both inspired and unsatisfied. Modern intellectual males have produced many theories about “the one above the many.” Postmodern goddesses wish to have plural systems of “the many without the one.” Why does it have to be “either/or”? Why cannot we have “both-and”? In another seminar with Frederic Lawrence at Boston College, I studied the OM problem in the doctrine of the Trinity. Although patristic theologians had dealt with the logical antitheses “one is not three” and “three are not one,” the OM problem had never been resolved in dialogues with Greek philosophies, in particular with neo-Platonism. The problem was nailed down by a succession of church councils on doctrinal bases and accepted by faith. Unlike the mere pluralism celebrated by postmodernism, the Trinity states that unity and plurality must be both affirmed. This “both-and” thought is similar to the mutuality of Dao and Nature. Nature spontaneously unfolds out of the self-generating Dao. The unity of Dao neither has independent reality without the plurality of Nature, nor can the many of Nature exist without the oneness of Dao. Unity and plurality can either be both affirmed or simultaneously denied. With this intuition I

xvi

introduction

attended another seminar on transcendence and immanence with Robert Neville at Boston University. The paradox of transcendence and immanence is fundamentally OM in kind. Reality at the ultimate level, such as God or being-it-self, cannot enjoy absolute transcendence without its immanence in plurality. Looking back, the topic was conceived in the so-called Boston circle with distinctive theological interest. Writing this book is my response to the modern debate about unity and plurality. I am greatly indebted to my former teacher Robert Neville at Boston University. However, the book is a response to his theory that creation ex nihilo is the answer to the OM problem.4 Contrary to Neville’s argument, which operates at an abstract level of metaphysics, I take the existential position in Daoism and dialogue with Plato with a narrative emphasis. The second formative idea comes from Jürgen Moltmann. During my third visit to him in Tübingen in 2003, I was impressed by his humility in his reading of Laozi and scholarly openness toward Daoism in general. Moltmann argues that the creation was not a single event in the beginning of time, resulting in the finished product called the world, but rather an ongoing process still in the making.5 This concept of evolutionary creation has had an influence on my interpretation of Ge Hong’s cosmogony. However, unlike his linear evolution, which bears the imprint of Hegelian teleology, I endorse the concept of cyclical changes in Daoist alchemy. Therefore, the world and its becoming are cyclical rather than linear. Unlike the traditional view of an unchanging God, influenced by the Platonic unchanging being-it-self, I have come to see a self-changing Dao from nothing into being as the inner core of Nature and its becoming. Why has the project taken the form of philosophy rather theology? As the research progressed, quickly I realized the OM issue that I conceived in theology was deeply philosophical. When philosophical language is used to articulate the issue of unity and diversity, the issue is proven to be far more resilient than what philosophical tools are designed to handle. In Western metaphysics, the OM debate gravitates toward the ancient problem of logic exclusion between one and many, and involves various metaphysical concepts that were invented in the attempt to solve the problem. But coming from a Daoist perspective, the core issue can be named differently. The one and the many is not a logical problem, nor a metaphysical problem. It is an ontological problem. According to a modern definition in English, “ontology, understood as a branch of metaphysics, is the science of being in general, embracing such issues as the nature of existence and the categorical structure of reality.” 6 But the very term “ontology” translated into Chinese as benti



introductionxvii

本體 7 was absent in the period between Laozi and Ge Hong. In Daoism, ontology is directly associated with Dao 道 and its Nature (ziran 自然). In more philosophical language, it inquires into the core of reality and its manifestations, the oneness of the mother Dao and its manyness in the world. To argue the one and the many as an ontological problem, therefore, requires an investigation of the historical contexts in which the OM discussions were conducted in two separate traditions. The one and the many has varied appearances. They include the preSocratic debate on monism and pluralism, Daoist cosmogony from one Dao to ten thousand things, the Jewish-Christian doctrine of creation, and the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. These discussions can be viewed as different approaches to and debated answers for the OM problem. But the core of the problem is not the logical contrary between one and many or the metaphysical schemas on monism and pluralism, materialism and immaterialism. Rather it has to do with how reality is conceived in the first place. Plato rejects ontological monism as argued by pre-Socratic materialists including Thales (water), Anaximander (earth), Anaximenes (air), and Hera­clitus (fire). Instead, he borrows Parmenides’ unchangeable One, turns Parmenidean Being into a Pythagorean pluralism with mathematical essences, and proposes immaterial, unchangeable, and transcendental ideas. The categorization of reality as Forms directly results in the problematic dualism with superior ideas over inferior objects and, just like Parmenides, Plato creates the ontological difference between Being and Becoming. Unlike the Greek search for an unchangeable ontological something, Daoist ontology takes a very different path by arguing that reality in the most fundamental form is formless, in fact nothing. Ge Hong belonged to this tradition and developed a religious philosophy that reverses cosmogony into soteriology; to attain immortality means to return to the formlessness of Dao. The core reality is not the Parmenidean-Platonic unchanging being, but the changing not-being together with its self-realization into being. Contrary to Plato’s intellectualism, Ge Hong’s instrumental alchemy represents a natural philosophy with distinctive empiricism, the aim of which is to understand the one in and through its works in the many. Can the propositional difference between being and not-being be used to set up a meaningful dialogue between two thinkers? It can. But three hermeneutical barriers must be overcome: language, history, and comparative method. They impose layers of misunderstanding upon Ge Hong and his tradition.

xviii

introduction

On Language Plato’s works have been translated into English by many generations of textual scholars, whereas among the surviving works of Ge Hong only two are available in English, the Inner Chapters of the Master Embracing Simplicity (Baopuzi neipian 抱撲子內篇) and the Biographies of Immortals (Shenxian zhuan 神仙傳).8 Hence reading Plato is relatively straightforward, whereas reading Ge Hong is far more challenging. Because translation involves interpretation and interpretations vary, I do not rely on the published English translations, but translate directly from the original texts. Throughout this book, all English translations are my own, unless otherwise indicated. I generally follow the principle that the Chinese text of key quotations appears in the notes. This principle applies to all text from Ge Hong’s Inner Chapters (IC) and some text from other key sources, such as Laozi and Zhuangzi. Unlike modern Chinese and English, classical Chinese is highly allusive. The rich meanings of classical texts tend to be concealed in poetic and metaphorical language. In translation an interpreter is confronted with the immediate difficulty of finding adequate English words to give expression to ancient terminology. The connotation and denotation of some concepts, such as Dao 道, Qi 氣, and Xuan 玄, are an immediate difficulty, since these terms have no direct English equivalents. Thus they are treated as technical terms, just as Platonic Forms and sensibles, Reason and Necessity. Some terms are translated into English: wuwei 無 為, indeterminate action; ziran 自然, Nature; you 有, something (being); and wu 無, nothingness (not-being). But each of these terms is discussed explicitly in comparative contexts. On top of the conceptual difficulties, there is another one related to various genres of Daoist texts. For instance, alchemical texts are not meant to be easily intelligible, but written in code to protect secret practices from people whose interests are fixed on mundane goals. To translate alchemical texts involves decoding and textual reconstruction.9 In the text to follow, large sections from Inner Chapters are translated with philosophical overtones. Certainly this is not the usual practice in Sinology, which prefers literal rather than interpretative translation. But as Sinologists are aware, the translation of Laozi has resulted in numerous English editions; scholarship still cannot reach a conclusive standard. This is simply because translation involves interpretation. Since my project does not claim to be a pure textual study, but a comparative one, two methods are applied: textual and contextual. Both methods are simultaneously applied to Ge Hong’s poetic language.



introductionxix

On History Ge Hong and Plato belonged to antiquity, and it would be wrong to assume modern readers are familiar with classical writings. The historical distance is often dealt with by a contextual method and historical criticism. The contextual tends to bring the past into the present, whereas the historical reconstructs the past into which modern readers enter. Both methods have weaknesses. On the one hand, contextualization can read the present into the past. Modern Platonic scholarship often willingly or unconsciously reads the dramatic dialogues of Plato through the lenses of analytic philosophy, as if Plato had woven together his thought out of a single stream of rigorous logic. Likewise, the “history of science” interpretation of alchemy by and large treats alchemy as proto-chemistry, as if chemistry were the only legitimate child of alchemy. On the other hand, historical criticism can never be certain whether historical distance is shortened or stretched. Daoist scholarship traditionally uses historical criticism as the chief method in commentary studies, which take the issue of textual fidelity seriously. Platonic scholarship too has a commentarial tradition. If one compares two thinkers on the base of commentarial traditions, the comparative goal can easily be lost in the forest of historicity. This does not mean that comparative study needs to be divorced from these methods. The book applies them complementarily. Part 1 involves lengthy textual-historical studies that are devoted to each thinker. By situating Ge Hong in Daoist history and investigating Plato’s relation with his predecessors, these textual-historical studies trace intellectual currents from which their thoughts derived and evolved. The chief purpose is to explicitly work the texts down to irreducible propositions within historical contexts in order to build a comparative platform from which later dialogues may take their departure. Part 2 changes the direction from historical settings to comparative context. By creating a dialogue on the one and the many, the comparison overall argues that Plato’s system of multiple Forms is an ontological problem. And by comparing Plato’s “one over many” Forms with Ge Hong’s “one under many” Dao, the comparison also offers a Daoist solution to the problem of the unity of plural Forms, which Plato has unsuccessfully dealt with in his doctrine of creation.

Comparative Method Mention of comparison naturally leads to the issue of methodology. There is no single comparative method readily adoptable for this project, but there are general trends. In the Chinese-speaking environment, there is

xx

introduction

an increasing interest in intercultural comparison as a part of Chinese modernization.10 In Western philosophy, some Platonic scholars still maintain the view that there is no true philosophy outside its defined norms and happily leave comparative studies to Sinologists. The book implicitly addresses an aspect of the OM problem in modern society, the unrelatedness of two traditions, by naming the issue of unity and plurality in the world of globalization. In a more specific field, it fills a gap in comparative philosophy, where a dialogue between the religious philosophy of Daoism and Greek philosophy is rare.11 Generally all interpretative methods are designed to reinterpret the classics by building an intellectual bridge over historical distances so that past wisdom can illuminate modern minds. Such a “bridge-building” exercise is easier in a single history than in a comparative study that hopes to build a “double arch bridge” over two intellectual “rivers.” The major hermeneutical difficulty is history. Unless it is through a hypothetical dialogue, two thinkers will not be brought into contact with each other, and unless this happens, the issue of pluralism in history will be left unresolved. This also becomes the role of the interpreter. Apart from dialogical hermeneutics, there is an underlying question of how to read Daoism as a whole. Currently two main approaches are common in the scholarship that tend to read Daoism from the intellectual “other shore.” Both have methodological problems. Reading Daoism through Western Eyes The division of philosophical Daoism (daojia 道家) and religious Daoism (daojiao 道教) has separated the continuous history of Daoism (daoxue 道 學) into two paradigms.12 However, the distinction between religion and philosophy is a modern notion, not a historical one. Ge Hong and other writers in the Daoist Canon (daozang 道藏) regarded themselves as Daoists (daojia 道家) who carried on the early tradition as creative interpreters. It was only toward the middle of the twentieth century that such a distinction was made between religion and philosophy, and it basically echoes the dichotomy of reason and revelation in the West. In Chinese circles, this borrowed division separates Daoist studies into two camps. One the one hand, scholars with philosophical interests concentrate on the LaoZhuang philosophy (laozhuang zhexue 老莊哲學) of the pre-Qin period. On the other hand, scholars with religious interests explore the Daoist movements that began to take shape in the Han period as socioreligious phenomena. Under this categorization, Ge Hong has been labeled as a religious thinker who belonged to a camp opposite to the neo-Daoist philosophies in the Wei-Jin period.13 But this assumption is wrong.



introductionxxi

The book rejects the arbitrary division by showing that religion and philosophy are interconnected in Ge Hong. The approach follows the recent trend to read Daoism as an integrated whole.14 It also aims to demonstrate that Ge Hong is not a religious thinker without philosophical insights, but a religious philosopher. His Daoism is not a “religion without philosophy,” but a “philosophy within religion.” 15 The key to rediscovering philosophical insights is to treat Ge Hong as a religious philosopher and to show that he is capable of dialogue with Plato. Dialogical hermeneutics requires historical comparisons to identify continuity and discontinuity between Ge Hong and his predecessors as well as similarity and dissimilarity between Ge Hong and Plato. The vertical historical study and the horizontal comparative study are two interpretative perspectives designed to shed light not only on Ge Hong but also on Plato. Comparative hermeneutics implicitly critiques another “either philosophy or religion” approach in Sinology. Recent Sinological writings collectively argue that reading Daoism should be freed from Western influences and Daoism treated as a unique religion among the world’s religious traditions. Works of some leading scholars are revealing of the paradigm change toward postmodern pluralism. Kristofer Schipper’s The Taoist Body and Taoist Canon: A Companion to the Daozang, and Isabelle Robinet’s Taoism: Growth of a Religion represent penetrating studies that approach Daoism as a composite religion with considerable internal complexity.16 Livia Kohn has moved away from the philosophical interests in her early work Taoist Mystical Philosophy to the recently edited Daoist Handbook, which is basically an encyclopedia on Daoism as a religious phenomenon.17 Stephen Bokenkamp’s Early Daoist Scriptures demonstrates the capacity of modern textual criticism to reconstruct and interpret the primary sources for Daoist studies.18 John Lagerwey’s Taoist Ritual in Chinese Society and History exhibits the liturgical aspect of Daoist worship.19 Robert Campany’s commentary on Ge Hong’s Shenxian zhuan is another attempt to reconstruct social-religious context in its finest details.20 Company’s translation of shenxian 神仙 also marks a break from the need to link Daoist immortals with the Jewish-Christian God as exemplified in James Ware’s translation of the Inner Chapters of Baopuzi published in the sixties.21 Overall the recent trend represents an exodus from the previous tendency to read Daoism mainly through Western eyes—from the intellectual “other shore.” It seeks to read Daoism from within and to engage its complex religious practices on their own terms. The theoretical move, however, is basically a paradigm of negation, most noticeable in postmodernism. Just as postmodernity rejects the modernist impulse to bring plurality under a system of unity, the new religious-historical paradigm cel-

xxii

introduction

ebrates the uniqueness of Daoism among the many religions in the world. Whereas the problem is of the one and the many, the new paradigm rests on another assumption that pluralism is opposed to universalism—that no dialogue between Daoism and Western thought is necessary. This book argues otherwise. There does not have to be a choice of either reading Daoism through Western eyes or reading it solely from within Chinese history. Current scholarship in the West basically posits an unnecessary dilemma upon itself—“the many without the one.” However, in the Daoist view Dao is the motherly one humbly sustaining the many. Pluralism essentially is not a rejection of unity, but an affirmation of Dao and its unfolding becoming. The emerging school of “New Daoism” (xin daoxue 新道學) established by Chinese scholars amounts to a call to modernize Daoism through active engagement with the West in a movement that parallels the development of a “New Confucianism” (xin rujia 新儒家) a century ago. The fundamental idea behind the movement is the belief that one can truly learn about oneself through relationships with others. Compared with the dialogue between Confucianism and Western thought, and contrary to the growing interest in Buddhism, comparative study with Daoism is rare and unsystematic. Reading Daoism through the Eyes of Materialism and Science The scientific paradigm entails reading Daoism through Western eyes but with a specific interest, namely, the history of science. It has been persuasively argued that among the “triple teachings” in China (Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism) only Daoism has provided the driving force for the development of science and technology in China.22 Reading Daoism through the eyes of modern science is therefore a justified approach. Although the Marxist claim “religion is the opium of the masses” is no longer unquestioned dogma, Marxist materialism, hand in hand with rational sciences, still lingers over Daoism as an irremovable shadow. The scientific paradigm has brought religion closer to science but further away from philosophy. The failure to create dialogues with Western philosophy goes much deeper than the methods of historical cordiality and scientific objectivity. It has to do with the categorizations that Sinology has adopted from modern sciences. Chemistry and astronomy, it might be supposed, are two areas that have little to do with each other. Alchemy belongs to prechemistry—the study of changing matter. Astronomy derives from ancient cosmology—the study of heavenly forms. The alchemical search for longevity belongs to medicine. Needham’s encyclopedic Science and Civilisa-



introductionxxiii

tion in China, which has had a strong impact on later studies, generally reflects this separation by keeping alchemy, astronomy, and life sciences apart in three separate volumes.23 But in Ge Hong they are one. If we adopt Needham’s categories, then what was historically connected is divided by modern sciences. However, in Ge Hong’s writings the alchemical Qi is a unity. Alchemy, astronomy, and medicine converge in Qi because they are different categories of knowledge that study the selfevolving One out of which changes arise, heaven rotates, and life emerges. The ancient attempt to build a grand unifying theory for branches of knowledge is essentially of the “one and many” kind. Monist consciousness has reappeared in the dreams of modern scientific minds. Physics, especially quantum mechanics and astrophysics, has returned to cosmogony. In searching for the primary unity of matter and form, or the so-called God particle, out of which plurality emerged, modern scientists have approached the ancient OM question from new angles. Not long ago inorganic chemistry was far removed from concerns about the origin of the universe. Now biochemistry suggests that the origin of species could be a single life form. The many are the evolutionary progenies of the one. Scientific theories are now much closer to the evolutionary theory of the alchemical Qi. Undoubtedly, to enter into dialogue with the sciences is an important undertaking necessary to contextualize Daoism within a modern worldview, and the conversation has produced many fruitful works.24 But the fundamental problem is the underlying assumption that science is the norm for empirical truth. Science can easily carry on the pursuit of truth without religion. This assumed “science without religion” has already been under examination in the West, precisely on the issue of whether reason is the universal can opener to unlock the world.25 The immediate disadvantage of the scientific approach is that it compels us to divorce religion from science in Ge Hong, where they are interwoven. The “science without religion” approach imposes upon Ge Hong some serious blockages, which are philosophical rather than scientific. Some key ideas and practices have been overlooked or mishandled because they do not directly fit scientific categorizations. The Daoist arts (fangshu 方 術) are labeled as necromancy without seeing any need to look into the person-world synthesis beyond the liturgical appearances. Methods to prolong life (yangsheng 養生) are misinterpreted as spirituality in a way that negates any interest in seeing the underlying difference between Western spiritual liberation and Daoist bodily preservation of life. Bodily alchemy (neidan 內丹) is said to belong solely to Daoist mysticism but without any active dialogue between two systems of human body: the Daoist body as

xxiv

introduction

an alchemical vessel capable of self-transformation and the Western body defined in terms of physiological and anatomical parts. Instrumental alchemy (waidan 外丹) is seen just as the field in which modern chemistry discovers its ancient roots, without realizing that a different philosophy of change is entailed. Most important of all, modern sciences assume an atomist pluralism without any reflection on Daoist monism, in which all things are inwardly related. This review of the complex scholarship in Daoism comes back to the methodological problem. Many interpretative exercises have consciously and unconsciously imposed upon Daoism perceptions that simply do not belong to the historical context. Why can we not read the West through Daoist eyes? Whoever interprets Zhuangzi will also be interpreted by him. This book takes such an approach by reading Plato through Ge Hong. Apart from using the method of comparing and contrasting, one of the most elementary methods in academic studies, it does not claim to evince a well-established method. Instead of proposing a hypothesis—a common methodology used in science—and then either proving or disproving the validity of it, this project adopts a Daoist principle. It follows the principle of spontaneity. As a general tactic, it treats methodology as a conclusion— not the precondition—of the research.

pa r t o n e

Textual Studies

Ge Hong’s religious philosophy is a converging point of three intellectual streams. First, from the early philosophical stream derived from Laozi and Zhuangzi, Ge Hong inherited cosmogony as the general worldview. He then reinterpreted the cosmogony into the genealogical one and many. Unlike a fixed being, the Dao is not an idea, but an act. “From nothing into being” is an act of creativity; it therefore defines what Dao is by articulating what Dao does. This core of reality was articulated as an ongoing genealogical process in which the creative One and its unfolding expressions in progenies constituted the relationship between the one and the many. The second stream was fed by many traditions related to the belief of attainable physical immortality. Ge Hong systematized the belief by inserting ethics into the collective hope for health, longevity, and immortality. His writings on the hagiographic tradition marked a crucial move to transform folk beliefs into a coherent system of soteriology. Unlike Christian saints and imperishable gods in Greek mythology, Daoist immortals are personified Dao, miniatures of the cosmos with distinctive personalities. They are the visible images of the invisible One because they have attained the highest form of health, the perpetual unity of the body and the spirit. In a Confucian society that was formed on the principle of collective harmony, Ge Hong’s religious anthropology celebrated individuality and held high the value of bodily health, yet at the same time envisioned that all lives were inwardly connected. The third stream derived from a medical and alchemical tradition passed down to Ge Hong through his family lineage. Unlike Laozi and Zhuangzi, which discussed the Dao within implicit theoretical frameworks, xxv

xxvi

part one

Baopuzi bears testimony to an empirical search for practical ways to return to the cosmogonical source. If the Lao-Zhuang tradition was famous for pioneering the articulation of the Dao, then historically Ge Hong has been remembered for formulating the arts of attaining the Dao. His medical, alchemical, and astronomical texts belonged to an incipient school of empiricism against Confucian intellectualism. It was this empiricism that transformed religious soteriology into natural philosophy.

chapter 1

Ge Hong’s Doctrine of Xuan Dao

The Inner Chapters of the Baopuzi, which adopts Ge Hong’s pseudonym the Master Embracing Simplicity, opens with the chapter on the doctrine of Xuan Dao. [Genealogical One and Many] (1) That which is Dark is the primordial ancestor [shizu 始祖] of Nature and the Great Forebear [dazong 大宗] of the myriad ­different [things]. [The Rhapsody of Xuan] (2) Its impenetrable depth is called formless; its unbroken ­continuity is named as excellence. Its height caps the nine heavens [jiuxiao 九霄]; its breadth covers eight directions [bayu 八隅]. (3) Its brightness exceeds the sun and the moon, and its speed surpasses lightning. Sometimes it appears as a drifting scene or moves as shooting stars; sometimes it hovers over edgeless water or glides as wandering clouds. (4) It is “there is” [you 有] because of its ­billion existences [zhaolei 兆類] and is “there is not” [wu 無] because of its submerged stillness [qianji 潛寂]. In the Northern Polar Region [dayou 大幽], it sinks into great peace. At the edge of the lodestars [chenji 辰極] it floats above heaven’s motion. (5) Diamonds cannot compare with its hardness; dew cannot be softer than its softness. A square is no match for its straight shape; a circle cannot eclipse its round form. It comes but is not seen and goes but is not traced. It is because of its existence that heaven is named high, earth is called low, clouds travel, and rain falls. [The Universal Qi] (6) Xuan is pregnant with the primordial One [baotai yuanyi 胞 胎元一], universally casts the identities of Yin and Yang [fanzhu liangyi 範鑄兩儀], and breathes out the breath of the great beginning [tuna dashi 吐納大始]. (7) From the One a hundred million substances have been formed [guye yilei 鼓冶億類], the Twenty1

2

textual studies

Eight Constellations are made to revolve [huixuan siqi 徊旋四 七], change is created [jiangcheng caomei 匠成草昧], and orders are activated [peice lingji 轡策靈機]. (8) With its life four seasons are breathed into life in rotation [chuixu siqi 吹噓四氣], stillness embraced, and vitality expressed. Turbidity is restrained and purity enhanced. [Conclusion] (9) Like adding and taking water from the Yellow River and the Wei River, neither adding will cause Xuan to overflow nor will ­taking exhaust it; external things can neither increase nor languish its honor. (10) Therefore, where Xuan is happiness is unceasing; where it withdraws, spirits depart and substances become fragments.1 The translation is a philosophical one. It bears no reference to James Ware’s English translation for the simple reason that his work is misleading and needs retranslation.2 Ware not only translates Dao as God, but also replaces Daoist terminology with concepts bearing a strong sense of (Greek) mysticism. Since mythology and philosophy are disassociated in modern minds, it is necessary to remove the impression that Ge Hong is a mystical thinker and place him in historical context as a religious thinker. The method of translation I use is a hermeneutical circle. It contains three overlapping areas: Translation is the result of interpretation, interpretation is based upon textual study, and textual studies correct and enhance the translation. Compared with Greek philosophy, which generally presents argument in linear and logical expression, Daoist texts bear similarity to alchemical cycles of transformation to refine essential meanings beneath the surface of textual layers. Although some areas of textual study may appear repetitive, nonetheless as in alchemy each transformation leads to a deeper understanding of an overflowing thought within the text. To help the process, the above translation has been structured so as to reveal Ge Hong’s argument. The text is purposely divided into four sections under the bracketed subheadings in italics. It begins with the claim that the one and the many is a genealogical unfolding of life from an ancestor to many progeny and then follows the rhapsody of Xuan, which is situated in an astronomical background.3 The third section on universal Qi argues Daoist cosmogony by explaining that the world containing the myriad things derives from the pregnancy of cosmic life in primordiality. Then the text finishes with the conclusion that



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao3

Xuan is the most fundamental reality of all existences. In addition to posting signs for the OM argument, another feature of the translation is the numbers I have supplied to indicate verses; these will be used later on for ease of reference. The translation is based on Baopuzi neipian jiaoshi 抱撲子內篇校釋, the Annotated Inner Chapters of Baopuzi, by Wang Ming 王明, who has pioneered modern studies of Ge Hong.4 Like most ancient texts, the Baopuzi has been copied from generation to generation, a process that has resulted in alterations. Wang Ming’s annotated edition is widely recognized as the standard text on the Inner Chapters. It represents a rigorous historicaltextual method used in classical Chinese studies, kaozheng 考證, which is not a detailed commentary but a canonical study similar to the method used in biblical scholarship. It aims on the one hand to reconstruct the text back to its original form and on the other hand to make annotations identifying textual connections with earlier texts. Wang Ming’s textual reconstruction is based on the previous edition by Sun Xingyan 孫 星衍 of the Qing dynasty. Sun’s Qing edition was based on manuscripts of the Song-Ming period.5 Sun Xingyan corrected accumulated textual problems and deleted some passages that were clearly later inserts and evidently incompatible with Ge Hong’s thought. Unlike the previous editions, Wang Ming’s punctuated edition has extensive notes that are not just textual notes for correction (jiao 校), but also commentary notes for annotation (shi 釋).

The Structure and Philosophical Points of the Text The opening passage of the Baopuzi summarizes the central tenets of Ge Hong’s thought. Written in the poetical genre of rhapsody, the argument has two philosophical discourses: being and works, and the OM relation. The being and works discourse is an ontological one. In the West, it can be traced to pre-Socratic philosophies, and the discussion has been developed by Christian theology for the doctrine of God. Since Daoism has not developed along Western intellectual paths, it is important to point out that Ge Hong’s discourse reflects his correlative thinking to give expression to inner being and outer manifestations of Dao. In modern Chinese, the set of concepts connotation (neihan 內涵) and denotation (waiyan 外 延) have a similar correlation. But in Ge Hong’s context, the correspondence of the inner and the outer is linked to the birth of cosmic life. A mother giving birth to a new child can be seen as what the mother does. But childbirth also defines what the mother is. Likewise, to contemplate what Xuan Dao is, Ge Hong describes what the Dao does.

4

textual studies

Human genealogy involves continuity and discontinuity; so too does cosmic genealogy. This is the second discourse on the continuity and discontinuity between one and many. Ge Hong begins with the claim stated in the opening phrase (1). Xuan is the first ancestor, whereas the myriad things are her progenies. In a society that was influenced by the Confucian (and pre-Confucian) value of family succession, the genealogical metaphor makes a chief claim about cosmogony. The OM relation is genealogical. The OM discourse in the universe is basically a genealogical unfolding of life’s continuation and diversification from an ancestor to a large extended family. Why is Xuan identified as the primordial ancestor? Clearly the first sentence on universal Qi (6) indicates that the primordial One (yuanyi 元一) is better identified as “One” rather than Xuan. This is a textual ambiguity in the poetic genre. In Daoism yuanyi 元一 is a specific term for the uni­ versal potency called Qi 氣.6 If Qi is identified as the “One” along with Xuan, strictly speaking the One of the ultimate form is not numerical one, but two. It is not a monist entity, but a dualist couplet. Fortunately, Ge Hong has provided an answer for the ambiguity with a biological model: “Xuan is pregnant with the primordial One” (6). When a mother is pregnant with a baby, the baby cannot have a separate identity apart from the mother, nor can the woman be called mother without the baby. The two only have one identity. The relational oneness marks a key contrast to Western understanding. The mother, for example, might have an identity as a teacher, which the baby does not possess. Here we encounter two thinking paths that come face to face throughout this book: the relational and the logical. In Western thinking, logic is both the philosophical tool and the criterion of truth. In Daoism, the very issue of identity as in the metaphor is understood as a relation rather than a possession. It speaks of the interchange of life between the mother and the fetus, rather than a possession (as being a teacher) that could have nothing to do with a fetus. The core identity of the mother is its life-giving relation with the child. This biological model holds the key to understand Ge Hong’s relational ontology between Xuan and Qi. The biological life brings together Xuan and Qi into a relational whole. Life is the continuity underlying the discontinuity between the cosmogonical One and the myriad things. Genealogy implies progress and evolution. This is also a distinctive attribute of Ge Hong’s OM argument. Presented in the narrative on the universal Qi, it says that the cosmos comes to its own transformation from a single origin to diversified existences. Ge Hong obviously aims to arrive at the point that cosmogony and genealogy are akin. What is needed is



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao5

imagination. If genealogy can be understood in cosmic terms or cosmogony can be viewed as genealogy, the linking of two forms of OM is not unjustified. Biological reproduction is a process; likewise cosmogony is a process. Many descendants do not come into existence in a single generation; rather, it takes many generations for life to evolve into a family tree. Likewise, the world with plural phenomena did not come to existence through a once-and-for-all act of creation, but diversifies by evolution. Genealogy consists of both continuity and discontinuity of life. Likewise, apart from the unfolding life of the Dao, cosmogony contains loss and death, consequently change. It is interesting that the underlying metaphor is birth, in fact feminism, but Ge Hong links Xuan with zong 宗 and zu 祖, rather than mu 母. The idea of zongzu refers to ancestors in orthodox succession. They are male in gender. In the beginning chapter of Laozi, this orthodoxy is challenged with the concept of the cosmogonical mother—“the mother of ten thousand things” (wanwu zhimu 萬物之母). It seems that Ge Hong wants to do both things, to change the orthodoxy with the Confucian genealogy, on the one hand, and to remain faithful to the early tradition, on the other. The narrative of universal Qi (6–8) explains Ge Hong’s position. The first moment of cosmic diversification is illustrated as the birth of Yin-Yang (6), which gives rise to the making of a hundred million substances (7). Here Ge Hong adopts the cosmogonical argument in the opening phrase of Laozi. “Without name, it is the beginning of heaven and earth; with the name it is the mother of ten thousand things” (Laozi 1). Dao did not have a name, but by giving rise to ten thousand things, it became the nameable mother of plurality. Laozi’s metaphor of one mother and ten thousand things and Ge Hong’s genealogy of one ancestor and all existences are evidently the same OM argument. The argument indicates that what has been referred to as Ge Hong’s religious Daoism is a clear continuation of early philosophical Daoism.7 The one and the many is primarily articulated within a genealogical-cosmogonical schema, but Ge Hong developed and reinterpreted it. In Chinese Xuan literally means the darkness of the night sky and carries the connotation of mystery. Laozi originally says, “Mystery [Xuan] upon mystery [Xuan] is the gate to all wonders” (Laozi 1).8 According to the commentator Wang Pi 王弼 (AD 226–249) a century before Ge Hong, “all wonders come out of the same Xuan, thus it is called the gate of all wonders.” 9 For Ge Hong, the emphasis is not on the gate (men 門); Xuan itself is the totality of the mystery. More important, he uses the term xuanzhe 玄者 instead (1) and suggests personhood. The term is topic maker. Its external appearance is darkness; as if looking into a night sky, all that one

6

textual studies

can see is impenetrable depth. The image of the night sky also implies that Xuan has no boundary. But is it possible to describe the night sky? How is it possible to articulate the attributes of something formless? The first sentence in the rhapsody of Xuan explains the depth and the scope of Xuan. “The impenetrable depth [shen 深] is called tenuous [wei 微]; its distance [yuan 遠] is named as marvelous [miao 妙]” (2). Here the attributes of Xuan are captured by two sets of words. Reading at the textual level, “depth” (shen 深) corresponds to the word “distance” (yuan 遠), “tenuous” (wei 微) to “marvelous” (miao 妙). But distance does not only denote the meaning of far reaching, but also the unbroken continuity involved in a distant journey. Tenuous does not only mean physically small, but also formless or indeterminate in form like wheat ground so fine that it is without shape. Here Ge Hong deliberately uses the ambiguity of classic Chinese in a positive way to illustrate the mysterious nature of Xuan. Inwardly it has impenetrable depth yet remains formless. Outwardly it reaches into the far distance with its unbroken continuity, yet its humility is the most excellent of all. To read the genealogical claim (1) in the light of this sentence brings out additional meanings. The ancestor does not solely dwell within the mysterious depth as a cosmogonical cause, but extends its influence throughout the cosmos. The ancestor is the hidden and unbroken continuity of the world, just as an ancestor’s life is hidden and continued in later generations. To put this in the language of OM, the One participates in the many as the continuous unity of the discontinuity of the many. Ge Hong further explains the universal presence of Xuan in the following sentence: “Its height towers over the nine heavens; its breadth covers eight directions.” The terms “nine heavens” (jiuxiao 九霄) and “eight directions” (bayu 八隅) are meteorological and geographic respectively. The two terms evidently come from the Shanhai jing 山海經.10 Ancient Chinese convention had it that heaven had nine layers, and earth spread out in eight directions. According to the earlier text the Book of Changes (Zhou Yi 周易), “nine heavens” (jiutian 九天) does not mean nine concentric spheres, but overlapping layers.11 Their arrangement is rather like an umbrella with eight directions and a center called “the heavenly axis” (juntian 鈞 天).12 The word jun 鈞 refers to the turning wheel used for pottery making. Thus the nine heavens rotate like a spinning umbrella with its handle as the polar axis. Overall the spatial dimension of capping nine heavens and covering eight directions describes the breadth of Xuan as omnipresent. Heaven and earth—the totality of the nameable world—are embraced by and dwell inside of Xuan. It is also implicitly suggested that alchemical and cosmogonical transformation happen within Xuan.



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao7

Xuan: A Hermeneutical Problem Why does Ge Hong use the term “Xuan” rather than simply adopt the well-established concept of Dao in the Lao-Zhuang tradition? Historically the religious Daoism of the Xiang’er 想而 commentary identified the historical Laozi as the personification of Dao, or the incarnation of the cosmic principle.13 The answer I suggest is this. Prior to Ge Hong the concept of Dao had already been used in an anthropomorphic sense. The equivalent form of anthropomorphic Dao in Ge Hong’s text is called “those who have possessed Xuan Dao” (xuandaozhe 玄道者) (IC 2). This term designates those who have personified Xuan through their ordinary lives and thus become immortal beings—Dao personified—by preserving the core of cosmic creativity in them. To retain the “impersonal” nature of the Dao, Ge Hong employs a concept less anthropomorphic but more universal. But the question remains, if the concept of Dao had been used anthropomorphically, why did Ge Hong employ Xuan rather than something else, such as Qi, a term widely used in Taiping jing 太平經, the Scripture of Eternal Peace? According to Wang Ming, The term “Xuan” is derived from the Tai Xuan 太玄 by Yang Xiong 楊 雄 of the Han period, rather from the School of Xuan 玄學 of the WeiJin period. Here the discussion on Xuan is centered on the ontology of the cosmos, especially emphasizing [the attributes] of Xuan Dao. Xuan Dao is equivalent to later Xuan Yi 玄一. The latter sentence [in the next paragraph] explains it by saying, “Attaining it enriches [the adept] inwardly, preserving it he acts outwardly, using it he becomes divine, and forgetting it he turns into a mere vessel. These are the key instructions for contemplating Xuan.” From this reference, it is clear that the term “Xuan” in the Baopuzi really is about mystic ontology.14

Wang Ming’s commentary note is problematic. First, it has been a common view in Chinese scholarship since Wang Ming that Ge Hong sought to establish an ontological system as the theoretical base for his religious mysticism,15 which implies something beyond rational inquiry. The claim that Xuan entails a “mystic ontology” reflects a Marxist critique. Quoting Engels, Wang Ming says, “All religions are nothing but external forces manipulating people’s daily life, and the externals become internalized in human minds in the form of illusions.” 16 This is a sweeping criticism. Historically Ge Hong’s religiosity had driven him to compose the Baopuzi as the apologetics to defend the quest for immortality in the face of Con-

8

textual studies

fucian criticisms, to justify Daoism as a valid path to attain truth, and to systematize popular devotions by laying down key doctrines. The problem with Wang Ming’s criticism is the division between Marxist materialism and religious idealism. The antithesis of materialism and idealism is borrowed from Western philosophy and is traceable to the pre-Socratic materialists and idealists. In Ge Hong’s case, taking alchemy for example, the soteriological quest for immortality was actually the driving force for him to work with minerals in the form of instrumental alchemy, which in modern terms is laboratorial and material science. A Marxist would say that Ge Hong was an idealist thinker with some materialist elements. But according to Marxism, material sciences do better without religion. In Ge Hong, religious idealism and material empiricism are two sides of the same quest for knowing the world. The two are inseparable. Recent scholars in China take a moderate position that recognizes Ge Hong’s overall contribution but treats the metaphysical values of his thought as inaccessible.17 He Shuzhen 何淑貞 writes in a recent commentary: “Xuan is both the origin of the world and the optimal state of Daoist cultivation”; “The reality of Xuan is ‘there is’ and ‘there is not,’ and its changeability cannot be measured within the scope defined by height and depth. But it articulates the ontology of the cosmos. [Ge Hong] adopts the metaphorical method of the early Daoists and transforms it into a theory of immortals 神仙學.” 18 He’s words indicate a more positive recognition of Ge Hong’s metaphysical intention. However, the argument has not ventured beyond the intellectual territory established by Wang Ming: “The concept derived from Yang Xiong’s Tai Xuan in the Han period, rather from the School of Xuan in the Jin period.” 19 Did Ge Hong’s Xuan actually derive from Yang Xiong (53 BC–AD 18) and have nothing to do with the School of Xuan? No. Wang Ming’s suggestion must be rejected, because it has misled the study of Baopuzi for almost thirty years. Instead I shall argue two key points. First, Ge Hong has only taken the schema of Yang Xiong’s Xuan, and has left the highly speculative content behind. Ge Hong has replaced the speculation with empirical data. Second, Ge Hong’s relation with the contemporary School of Xuan is not a “horizontal” direct exchange, but an indirect or “vertical” lineage coming from the Lao-Zhuang tradition. If we place Ge Hong in historical context, his religious philosophy and neo-Daoist intellectualism were two parallel interpretations of the Lao-Zhuang tradition. This connection means that the theological Xuan and the philosophical Xuan, the distinction that underpins the disassociation of the two, are far closer than previous scholarship has realized. This point can only be understood when the imposed shadow of Marxist scientific materialism is removed from the



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao9

ahistorical label of religious idealism. The following three sections are designed to develop these claims.

Two Historical Comparisons: Yang Xiong and the School of Xuan For or against Yang Xiong? The works of Wang Ming and He Shuzhen represent two generations of Ge Hong study. Both commentators have made a claim without textual support. A brief historical comparison should demythologize the “mystic ontology” of Xuan and grasp its philosophical significance. According to Yang Xiong: “The reality of Xuan radiates into three dimensions: Heavenly Dao, Earthly Dao, and Human Dao.” “The oneness of Xuan covers three dimensions [fang 方]; each dimension contains nine territories [zhou 州]. Various branches have [twenty-seven] generational installments [bu 部] and are divided into [eighty-one] families [jia 家] [of the cosmic community]” (ZHDZ 17, 745, DZ 27, 743).20 The introductory sentences capture the core of Yang Xiong’s metaphysical system including four subordinate categories: 3 dimensions, 9 territories, 27 installments, and 81 families. The numbers before the categories show a mathematical order: 3 1–4 =3, 9, 27, 81. Ancient commentators have demonstrated this order with the cosmic map shown below (Figure 1.1). The order actually extended to the sixth power (31–6 ), thus producing 243 (35) headings (shou 首) and 729 (36) branches (zan 贊). From the diagram, it is not difficult to see that the complex content bears some similarity with the system of the Yi 易.21 Recently Wang Qing 王青, a Yang Xiong scholar, has made a detailed comparison between the branch names in the Book of Changes and the title names in the Tai Xuan (Figure 1.2). It concludes that the system of Xuan is a “complete imitation of the system of Zhou Yi.” 22 The comparison recalls and justifies Yang Xiong’s own statement in his autobiographic preface: “Yi is the structure, and Xuan is the content” (ZHDZ 17, 665).23 The translation of the Tai Xuan by Michael Nylan also provides a list of tetragrams used by Yang Xiong (Figure 1.3). As the cosmic map shows, the content is an OM system and the epistemological tools to explain it. It is an attempt to explain three forms of reality (heaven, earth, and humans) with a single mathematical theory; the theory formulates unpredictable changes in the universe into a predictable order of becoming. This is also the core philosophical idea of the Book of Changes. The system of Xuan represents a major development

10

textual studies

Fig. 1.1.  The iconography of Xuan: The concentric layers of Xuan as illustrated in the Siku quanshu “zi pu” 四庫全書子部, 803–810

of the ancient philosophy of the Han period. Another distinctive feature of the theory is the mapping of concentric spheres as a representation of cosmological structure. This attempt positions Yang Xiong in the intellectual tradition that adopts the divination of Eight Trigrams (bagua 八卦) to articulate the basic principles of the cosmos. Deriving from the Book of Changes, another intellectual construct paralleled the Yang Xiong school. This was the theoretical alchemy set forth by Wei Poyang 魏泊陽 in his famous Cantongqi 參同契. It applied the dialectic philosophy of Yin and Yang (yinyang 陰陽) and the changeability of the Five Phases (wuxing 五行) to explain the universal phenomena of

Fig. 1.2.  Names of hexagrams in the Book of Changes and headings in the Tai Xuan. Reconstructed by Wang Qing 王青. (Reprinted by permission of Nanjing Daxue Chubanshe from Wang Qing, Yang Xiong pingzhuan [Nanjing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe], 130)

Fig. 1.3.  Tetragrams in the Tai Xuan. Translated by Michael Nylan. (Reprinted by permission from Yang Hsiung, The Canon of Supreme Mystery, translated by M. Nylan [Albany: State University of New York Press], 80–83)

14

textual studies

change.24 Compared to Yang Xiong’s mathematical universe, Wei Poyang established the ground theory of an alchemical universe. These theories differ in kind, but they are akin in essence as two interpretative traditions of the Book of Changes. Viewed against this historical background, the distinction is overt: Ge Hong’s Xuan neither uses the divination of the Eight Trigrams nor relies on the philosophy of the Five Phases. Ge Hong had in mind another theoretical model. This was the emerging geocentrism and instrumental astronomy of his day (see Figure 1.4). In

Fig. 1.4.  A map of the Twenty-Eight Constellations (south polar projection) illustrated in the Xin yixiang fayao 新仪象法要 by Su Song 蘇頌 (1020–1101). (Reproduced with the permission of the Needham Research Institute from Joseph Needham, Science and Civilisation in China [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959], vol. 3, 277)



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao15

Ge Hong’s astronomical writing, preserved in the “Astronomical Treatise” (AT hereafter) of the Jin shu (History of the Jin Dynasty), he argues for the emerging Huntian 渾天 astronomy. The theory depicts the universe as a cosmic egg: “Heaven forms the shape of an egg. The earth dwells alone inside the sphere like a yolk in an egg. Heaven is large, and the earth is small. . . . The circumference of heaven is divided into three hundred sixtyfive and one-fourth degrees. The degrees can then be divided into halves. The first half covers the earth, and the other half reaches under the earth. Therefore the Twenty-Eight Constellations become half visible and half invisible. Heaven rotates in a movement like a turning wheel (AT 281).” 25 The chief feature of the text can be understood in this comparison. Unlike Yang Xiong’s speculative system, Ge Hong’s Xuan is astronomical, empirical, and visual. The introduction of the astronomical text brings in an issue that needs clarification. Ge Hong scholarship has widely accepted the view that Ge Hong is not a systematic writer.26 But is his thought unsystematic? I argue throughout this book that the thought is internally coherent and that he is not a mere “collector,” but a “developer.” Even though his writings seem to collect from various schools of thought, we can begin from the theory of Xuan to demonstrate that an ontological system is developed by bringing together the strengths of two contemporary schools: empiricism and idealism. According to the geocentric Huntian theory, the earth occupies the center of the universe like the yolk in an egg. This theory historically represented a new school of empirical astronomy that went hand in hand with the Armillary Spheres invented by Zhang Heng 張衡 (78–139) in AD 124. The Spheres functioned as the instrumental model to demonstrate celestial movements. Contrary to this empirical-instrumental model, the previous Gaitian 蓋天 theory was an ethical model. It viewed the round heaven as a lid covering the flat earth like a chessboard.27 This lid model affirmed and justified the Confucian orthodoxy called “round heaven and square earth” (tianyuan defang 天圓地方). Without entering into the debate in which Ge Hong was involved,28 here it is necessary to recognize that the above passage belongs to Ge Hong’s commentary on the operation of the Spheres. Ge Hong argues for the Huntian theory and against the Gaitian theory. In a later passage Ge Hong tells us that Yang Xiong actually was the advocate for the Gaitian theory (AT 281). Thus historically Ge Hong took a position contrary to that of Yang Xiong, the new versus the old. Instead of seeing the world as a semispherical lid of heaven covering a plain square earth, the new model views the cosmos as concentric spheres and maps them in 365.25 degrees. The rotating cosmos is envisioned as “a turning wheel” that moves like a yearly clock. Unlike Yang Xiong’s cosmic

16

textual studies

wheel, Ge Hong’s version of the rotating cosmos is closely tied to observable phenomena. One of his key references is the movement of the TwentyEight Constellations: “The Twenty-Eight Constellations become half visible and half invisible.” These empirical data are crucial and revealing. The Twenty-Eight Constellations occupied a significant position in the history of Chinese astronomy. Strictly speaking they are not circumpolar stars in the sense that they are close to the pole, which they are not. But they are polar in orientation. Each constellation (xiu 宿) commands a section of sky rather like the outside of a section of orange. The Constellations are traditionally divided into four main sections, and each section has seven stars. The sections correspond to four cardinal directions and are named after four quarters of the sky (sixiang 四象), and the colors of the four symbolize the four seasons (Table 1.1).29 The sixiang are macroasterisms. The metaphor of “a turning wheel” summarizes their movements and provides an explanation for their being “half visible and half invisible.” Later I will come back to the problem of the Gaitian model, which failed to explain the rotation of the heavens because the heavenly lid could not turn like a clock, but could only move horizontally like a turning millstone. This was the specific problem Ge Hong attacked (AT 282, 283). Here the central issue is the connection between this text in the “Astronomical Treatise” and the text in the Inner Chapters. There are two connecting points: the Constellations and the axis of the cosmos. In the Inner Chapters only a short but significant reference to the Constellations is given. The term “four sevens” (siqi 四七) is a poetic expression for twenty-eight, and the term “turning” (huixuan 徊旋) is situated in the narrative of cosmogony. “From the One a hundred million substances have been formed, the Twenty-Eight Constellations are made to revolve, change is created, and orders are activated (7). Here the “turning” of the Constellations is described in the context of cosmogony. So the turning is neither self-generating like a celestial clock always in motion, nor is it turned by an external cause force like a rolling wheel driven by an external

Table 1.1.  Four directions and four seasons East

東

Green dragon

蒼龍 Spring 春

North

北

Black turtle

玄武 Winter 冬

West

西

White tiger

白虎 Autumn 秋

South

南

Red bird

朱鳥 Summer 夏



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao17

force. The “turning” has an inner drive that is a part of the coming to be of cosmic life—Qi. As the birth of the cosmos begins, Xuan is pregnant with Qi. Then, through a process of transformation, the Constellations are created and made to revolve. The rotation gives the celestial reference to define time. As Cullen has rightly argued, the most important role of the Constellations in Chinese astronomy was not to satisfy intellectual curiosity to construct a cosmology, but to make a functional and accurate calendar.30 Therefore, the “turning” of the Constellations is closely associated with the definition of time. Moreover, Ge Hong uses two alchemical terms for the cosmic transformation. The term fanzhu 範鑄 consists of two words: fan—domain or scope—which denotes the idea of universality in the context of cosmogony, and zhu—cast—which refers to the casting of smelted metal into a mould (like a crucible) with male and female parts. It suggests that the primordial life symbolized by Qi is cast into Yin and Yang, which apparently are opposites but actually are two sides forming the same reality. The second term, guye 鼓冶, is made of two verbs: gu—to pump air into a furnace with bellows—and ye—to smelt base materials into an elixir or alloy in stages. In alchemy, the “turning” (zhuan 轉) is a timekeeping activity carried out by the regulation of fire. It must be noted that the Chinese concept of time is not linear but cyclical, not abstract but concrete. Celestial time is associated with the rotation of the Constellations. Alchemical time is filled with material substances that undergo cyclical transformations measured by the number of turns. Here we should note a highly original thought on the part of Ge Hong. As an alchemist he envisions that cosmogonical change is somehow like alchemical transformation. The coming to be of the myriad things happens in stages, just as alchemists conduct reactions in stages. Compared with philosophical Daoism, Ge Hong’s originality is the alchemical perspective. This is profoundly new. Neither Laozi nor Zhuangzi had an alchemical view of the world, nor was alchemy involved in the philosophical debate on how the world came to be. Just by reading the narrative of universal Qi at the textual level, it is striking that the short passage has mentioned three kinds transformation: the material in alchemy, the cosmic in cosmogony, and the biological in genealogy. Beneath the poetic language, Ge Hong seems to suggest that three schemas—alchemy, cosmogony, and biology— somehow relate to each other. Apart from their encapsulation within the concept of Qi, it remains unclear in the poetic text to what extent they actually converge. If Ge Hong wants to argue that the one and the many is fundamental to all three schemas, he must explain what kind of ultimate

18

textual studies

(or Xuan) can perform such drastic and universal works. This is an explicit ontological question about the one and the many. We must wait and see whether Ge Hong’s thought can carry the philosophical distance in comparative studies. The second connection is the axis of the cosmos. In instrumental astronomy, one practical difficulty is to decide which two definable points in heaven can be used to form the axis around which various rings of the Spheres can be attached. But where do astronomers look for these two points in the sky? Unlike Yang Xiong’s Xuan that only occupies a theoretical center of the universe, Ge Hong’s Xuan has a real astronomical location. “In the Northern Polar Region, it sinks into great peace. At the edge of the lodestars it floats above heaven’s motion” (4). The term “the Northern Polar Region” (dayou 大幽) comes from Shanhaijing 山海經, the Scripture of Mountains and Seas. It literally means the most negative (jiyin 極陰) region in the north. The phrase “the edge of the lodestars” is translated from three words: ling 淩, denoting the far edge, and chenji 辰極, referring to one of the lodestars.31 In the “Astronomical Treatise,” the northern chen (beichen 北辰) is ranked as the “most honorable of the lodestars” (AT 289). In the Inner Chapters (juan 8), Ge Hong indicates the star is immobile in the sky.32 The Northern Polar Region, especially the northern chen, represents the primary reference point of the cardinal directions mapped on a compass. Furthermore, the lodestars are not only the navigational stars that have permanence in the night sky, but their being described as occupying the most negative region signals their celestial center. Ge Hong later also says that the One—Qi—has exactly the same location. “The One dwells in the Northern Polar Region and inside the great [negative] pool” (IC 324).33 With the references to both Xuan and Qi, Ge Hong seems to suggest that at the most negative region there is a cosmic womb. The mother Xuan is in gestation with the fetus Qi at this most permanent place. Together they define the cradle of the cosmos. In Ge Hong’s own words, “It is because of its existence that heaven is named high, earth is called low” (5). Once the location of Xuan has been defined, the problem of defining the axis can be solved in instrumental astronomy. The northern chen in the most negative region is the first point, and the earth is the second point. This principle, which forms the axis, is still used in modern observational astronomy. So the line between two points becomes the axis upon which various rings of the Spheres can be attached. And the model itself becomes the representation of the cosmos. Obviously Yang Xiong’s cosmology is merely a theoretical model, empirically unmatched to visible celestial movements. Unlike Yang Xiong’s system of Xuan, which appears to have enclosed heavenly Dao, earthly Dao, and human Dao within the



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao19

single mathematical principle of multiplicity, the geocentric theory concentrates on the heavenly Dao through an empirical path by correlating many principles irreducible to each other. Thus historically the geocentric theory achieved the accuracy to demonstrate celestial movements through instrumental means, which was undreamed of by previous generations. The Huntian theory is essentially an OM structure that presents the OM essence of the cosmos based not on speculation but on observation. The hidden epistemological argument is that knowledge is not a matter of how sophisticated the divinational content might be, but of whether the theory can match observation. What is observable is not just the object to be explained, but also the criterion of theory. Historically Ge Hong belonged to a school of empirical thinkers who engaged in instrumental studies. Similar to Zhang Heng’s Spheres, which were basically an instrument of change, Ge Hong’s alchemical crucible was also an instrumental means to study the changing universe through the transformation of matter.34 Instrumental astronomy and instrumental alchemy were two streams that fed into empirical studies of Nature. It was Ge Hong’s laboratory work and subsequent investigations into the principles governing changes that set him apart from Wei Poyang’s theoretical alchemy.35 Compared with Yang Xiong’s Xuan, which is a reinterpretation of the Book of Changes, Ge Hong’s Xuan set the course for his laboratory commentary on the underpinning idea in the Book of Changes that the changing world was governed by change itself. In Ge Hong’s words, “Change is the principle of Nature” (IC 284).36 To summarize the historical comparison, we can conclude one thing. If Ge Hong’s Xuan were derived from Yang Xiong’s Tai Xuan, as Wang Ming has suggested, then it is only plausible to argue that Ge Hong adopted Yang’s term but rejected the content, while he filled the theoretical vacuum with the geocentric theory supported by instrumental astronomy. Although so far we have had only a glimpse of Ge Hong’s astronomical knowledge, this is enough to draw a distinction between the two systems of Xuan. Yang Xiong’s system was basically a reworked system of change based on the Book of Changes. Ge Hong’s system was developed out of his involvement in the development of the geocentric worldview. Like Zhang Heng, Ge Hong historically represented a current of intellectual exodus in which Confucian scholars turned away from ethical idealism and turned toward the Daoist virtue of being at one with Nature. Indirect Connection with the School of Xuan The School of Xuan emerged in the historical context of the later Han dynasty and calls to reform New Text Confucianism. The intellectual landscape of the Han period was dominated by New Text Confucianism exem-

20

textual studies

plified by Chunqiu fanlu 春秋繁露 by Dong Zhongshu 董仲舒 (179–104 BC) and Tai Xuan by Yang Xiong two generations later. It was characterized by scholastic theories that had become increasingly sophisticated and speculative. Against this scholastic tradition, there appeared another intellectual movement. The pioneering thinker He Yan 何晏 (AD 193–249) returned to Laozi and Wang Bi 王弼 (226–249) to Laozi and Zhou Yi. Two later advocates, Guo Xiang 郭象 (253–312) and Xiang Xiu 向秀 (?), wrote extensive commentaries on the Zhuangzi. Between these intellectual waves, Ruan Ji 阮籍 (?) also reinterpreted Zhuangzi, and Ji Kang 嵇康 (223–262) authored a theory of preserving life.37 This intellectual exodus from Confucianism to Daoism opened up a new channel of commentarial traditions. Ge Hong’s Xuan clearly reinterpreted Laozi’s cosmogony. But the question is whether Ge Hong’s Xuan has anything to do with the School of Xuan. A general comparison indicates that Ge Hong’s concise and elastic genre is closer to the contemporary School of Xuan than to the euphuistical and prolix literature of Han scholasticism. In the whole of the Inner Chapters there are only six prefacing sentences explicitly addressed to Xuan, but the concept radiates throughout Ge’s writing. Ge’s corpus of texts belonged to the School of Xuan in that it displayed the remarkable feature of turning away from prolix expressions of Han scholasticism and toward the concise language used by Laozi and Zhuangzi.38 The chief feature of early Daoist texts was simplicity. Philosophy operated in conceptual, poetic, and metaphorical contexts. The new commentary genre reflected the old philosophy, allowing simple concepts to carry sophisticated thoughts and using metaphors as symbols to point toward deep meanings that words could not fully grasp and express. Ge Hong’s discourse on Xuan resembles the genre that emphasizes the method “getting and forgetting.” Zhuangzi says: “Fishing gear is used for catching fish. Once a fish is caught, the gear is forgotten. . . . Language is used to express meaning. Once the meaning has been grasped, the language is forgotten” (Zhuangzi 26). Having attained meaning, one forgets written words; through language one enters the reality of meaning.39 This linguistic philosophy hoped to eradicate the Han scholasticism that relied heavily on theories of divination to explain everything. The reaction against the past bypassed scholastic elaboration and went directly to the observation of reality. The modern scholar Tang Yijie 湯一介 has made a crucial correction to Wang Ming’s disassociation of Ge Hong and the School of Xuan: “At the time of Ge Hong, the School of Xuan had already reached its intellectual peak. As a Daoist scholar, Ge Hong inevitably was influenced by the



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao21

[intellectual] ‘wind of Xuan.’” 40 On the ontological debate on “nothing and something,” Tang further argues, “Xuan has neither name nor form; therefore it is the most formless ‘nothing.’ It is the ultimate root out of which the myriad things proceed. Therefore it is the most concrete form of ‘something.’ Ge Hong says: ‘It is “there is” because of its billion existences and is “there is not” because of its submerged stillness.’ Here Xuan is the synthesis of nothing and something. Although the view is different from that of Wang Bi and Guo Xiang, it still has addressed the key question of ‘something’ and ‘nothing.’”41 Tang’s argument is inspirational. But how does Ge Hong’s “something and nothing” represent a view that is “different from that of Wang Bi and Guo Xiang”? Tang has not explained.42 The suggestion “Xuan is the synthesis of nothing and something,” however, points in the right direction. First it is necessary to grasp how the School of Xuan addressed the chief ontological debate of the time, namely, “something and nothing.” A systematic representation of the tenets of the school is not the main interest here. The historical complicity of various commentaries on the three classical texts Zhou Yi, Laozi, and Zhuangzi, which are recognized as the “Three Xuan” (sanxuan 三玄),43 and of the different views of seven major thinkers known as the “Seven Worthies of the Bamboo Forest” (zhulin qixian 竹林七 賢)44 cannot be adequately dealt with here. The following discussion only aims to investigate a philosophical link between Ge Hong and the pioneering thinker Wang Bi. In his commentary on the Laozi, Wang Bi argues: “Something is born out of nothing. Thus the state that has neither form nor being is the beginning of the myriad things.” 45 Laozi originally articulates “something and nothing” within the cosmogony—from nothing, something is born. In Wang Bi’s interpretation, however, the point of focus is the issue of a priori and a posteriori. In the School of Xuan, the issue is called ben 本 and mo 末, base reality and the many phenomena. Wang Bi says, “The beginning [or prior] without form or name can alone fulfill the myriad things.” 46 Wang Bi’s argument can be understood in analogical terms. The ground, which sustains a forest of trees (something), is a humble reality (nothing) that neither has form nor seeks an honorable name. In pursuing a priori to the ultimate end, one discovers that the ground of realities is groundless. Tang Yongtong 湯用彤, the “father” of modern Xuan scholarship, has made the point explicit. “All things change, yet they are dependent upon the ground of Nothingness. . . . There is neither another reality in opposition to this Nothingness nor one outside it. But it contains all.” 47 The interpretation suggests that Wang Bi’s Nothingness is almost identical to Zhuang­zi’s Dao. The Nothingness is not just the cosmogonical alpha,

22

textual studies

but also the phenomenological omega—the groundless ground—in and through which all things inwardly relate. The modern scholar Hu Fuchen 胡孚琛—a pupil of Wang Ming—further argues that Wang Bi’s commentary represents an intellectual “breakthrough”: “Daoism was no longer limited to the cosmogonical discussion of how the myriad things evolved out of Dao and nothing, but emphasized ‘Nothingness’ as the foundation of all. The move has elevated the intellectual focus [of the Wei-Jin period] to the higher level of ontology.” 48 Hu’s argument represents an influential theory in current scholarship.49 But it is problematic. First, the distinction between cosmogony and ontology is arbitrary. Why cannot cosmogony be a form of ontology? The ontology of Dao usually operates in a cosmogonical framework. The distinction between cosmogony and ontology has never been as distinctive as the paradigms of the pre-Socratic cosmogonical one and many and the Platonic ontology of Forms. Why is ontology higher than cosmogony? It is possible that a cosmogony cannot be expressed except in terms that imply an ontology. But a Daoist ontology centralized on the Dao was not the invention of the School of Xuan. It was reinterpreted by the school as Nothingness, and it was given the ontological status of a priori—which the early cosmogony had already made explicit in terms that something is born out of nothing. Laozi stated this proposition in the opening chapter of the Daodejing; Wang Bi reinterpreted it into a causal a priori and a posteriori. Apart from assuming the separation of mystical cosmogony and rational ontology, there is no particular reason to make such a value judgment. Moreover, the distinction recalls, if it has not been directly borrowed from, a frequently quoted sentence by Tang Yongtong: “Therefore [Wang Bi] had broken away from the cosmology or cosmogony of the Han period but immersed himself in the true ground of ontology or theory of being.” 50 Noticeably Tang Yongtong has failed to make a distinction between cosmogony (yuzhou shengcheng lun 宇宙生成論) and cosmology (yuzhou jiegou lun 宇宙結構論). We can briefly say that the former deals with how the change from one to many happens, whereas the latter investigates how the many are one. The separation between cosmogony and ontology also resonates with a tendency in recent philosophical studies. Comparison between Heidegger and the School of Xuan has increasingly made Chinese scholarship a willing companion of modern phenomenology, which rejects theological cosmogony and embraces natural cosmology.51 The real question is this. Who can show the connection between cosmogony and cosmology beyond Heidegger? Ge Hong has already pro-



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao23

vided us with an answer. The key to advancing beyond Heidegger’s Dasein (being-there) is to argue that cosmogony is eternal. The act of “from nothing into being” is creative, implies self-change of the Dao, and therefore is what is always being-there in the changing world. Moreover the genealogical OM is not just a once-and-for-all change that happened at the very beginning of time, but a process that unfolds in every moment of time. Chinese scholarship should not give away this core argument in the face of modern phenomenology; seeking acceptance by the West must not come at the expense of identity loss. Second, it is true that Wang Bi broke away from Han cosmology, but so did Ge Hong. Wang Bi did not divorce his commentary from Laozi’s cosmogonical scheme, but operated within it. Commenting on Laozi’s saying “Xuan upon Xuan,” he writes: Two realities [something and nothing] derive from Nothingness. Together they derive from [tongchu 同出] the same Xuan, but with different names [yiming 異名]. Once they have been given two names, the two things cannot be the same. The one that comes first is called the beginning [shouzhe wei zhi shi 首者為之始]; the one that comes later is called the mother [zhongzhe wei zhi mu 終者為之母]. Xuan means darkness in which nothing is distinguishable, the silence of there being nothing [xuanzhe mingye moran wuyu ye 玄者冥也默然無有也].52

Here Wang Bi argues that Xuan is Nothingness, and Nothingness is the prior state. Out of it comes the twofold reality: nothing and something. They are two names that are again understood as an earlier and a later. “The one that comes first is called the beginning.” “The one that comes later is called the mother.” The “beginning” interprets Laozi’s nothing (wu 無) in the saying “nothing is the beginning of heaven and earth,” whereas the “mother” refers to Laozi’s something (you 有) in the saying “something is the mother of ten thousand things.” 53 The philosophical discussion has pushed the boundary of language, but the logic is actually simple. What Wang Bi has done is to set a newly invented Nothingness prior to Laozi’s dialectic “something and nothing.” Thus Xuan has three layers with a sequence of a priori and a posteriori: Nothingness ⇒ nothing + something

The epistemological issue here is how to know Nothingness. Since the cognitive mind cannot operate in nothingness without dropping into bottomless emptiness, something must be the crucial step to reach Nothingness. This issue holds the key to comparing Wang Bi with Ge Hong.

24

textual studies

Xuan, Dark, and Nothingness The second step in comparing Ge Hong with the School of Xuan is to come to terms with Ge Hong’s reversible thinking or negative philosophy. The opening sentence (1) contains two conceptual pairs, Xuan and Nature, and Nature and the many: Xuan 玄 ⇔ Nature (ziran 自然) ⇔ the myriad things (wangshu 萬殊)

The essence of Xuan is dark and indefinable, whereas its existence is shown through the reality of Nature in which plurality exists. Ge Hong explains: “It is ‘there is’ because of its billion existences and is ‘there is not’ because of its submerged stillness” (4). Having said that, Ge Hong does not spread more ink regarding what Xuan is. He immediately moves on to discuss what it does. The inner reality of Xuan is not directly discussed because of the limits of language, but it is indirectly expressed by the language of negation, or negative philosophy. This Daoist form of negative philosophy can be compared to the apophatic theology argued by Christian Platonists during the Patristic period. In modern theology, the Eastern Orthodox Church still stresses that God cannot be known in terms of human categories, but is only approachable through negation or denial of what can be said in the best human language.54 To fully comprehend this negative philosophy, let us look at three hidden claims that help us understand how Ge Hong and Wang Bi share the ontology of nothingness and how Ge Hong takes the School of Xuan farther than Wang Bi. Xuan Is Formless The attributes of Xuan are explained in the following discourse: “Its brightness exceeds the sun and the moon, and its speed surpasses lightning. Sometimes it appears as a drifting scene or moves as shooting stars; sometimes it hovers over edgeless water or glides as wandering clouds” (3).55 The first sentence is relatively straightforward. It illustrates Xuan with the comparative (hu 乎): brighter than the brightest in day or night and faster than lightning. The next sentence consists of four parallel phrases with the same opening word huo 或, which can be glossed as “sometimes” and “or.” The “drifting scene” refers to the dazzling light (shuo 爍) soon disappearing like a fading scene of effulgence (jingshi 景逝). The “drifting” also connects to the term piaoze 飄澤, which describes an object aimlessly floating on a pond. But the slowness of drifting is paradoxically juxtaposed with the metaphor of the shooting star (liuxing 流星) to promote the motif of indefiniteness. The next two phrases repeat the motif by emphasizing the



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao25

spontaneous nature of change. Xuan hovers over deep water (yuancheng 淵澄) like wind or glides like floating clouds (yunfu 雲浮). Both sentences describe the chief attribute of Xuan in terms of its apparently unpatterned indefiniteness and changeability. But the attributes are not directly expressed in terms of its inner being. Rather the being of Xuan is indirectly explained through the description of its external activities. The poetic language captures this central paradox. Xuan is described through its effects, which vary between regular and irregular (seemingly random), between large and powerful, and weak and even imperceptible. The being of Xuan cannot be pinned down to any of these characteristics used to describe physical things. Its inward being is still beyond them. The thought direction in these sentences moves from the outer works of Xuan to its inner being, or from existence to essence. This is the important reversible thinking in Ge Hong’s thought. Compared with Wang Bi’s logical sequence of a priori and a posteriori, Ge Hong’s thought seems also to move from the secondary to the primary, from the physical to that which lies beneath. But the crucial distinction is whether the physical something is the epistemological platform on which to understand the metaphysical nothing. Xuan Is No -Thing Only a particular thing can be measured against the physical qualities of hardness and softness, against the geometrical forms square and circle, and against the motions of coming and going. Xuan is not a particular anything; in fact it is no-thing. Hence it is neither hard nor soft, neither square nor circular, neither coming nor going (5). The physical world does not rest upon the seemingly chaotic Xuan. Rather astronomical orders are created out of it. “The Twenty-Eight Constellations are made to revolve, change is created, and orders are activated” (7). The myriad things depend upon the very existence of Xuan. “Where Xuan is, happiness is unceasing; where it withdraws, spirits depart and substances become fragments” (10). The physical characteristics of hard/soft, square/circle, and coming/going are not logical opposites, but two sides of the same reality, similar to day and night, which complete the circle of changing time. All physical qualities hinge upon the imperceptible unity, similar to the four cardinal directions that connect to the center of a compass. The change of four rotating seasons is breathed to life and born out of the formless harmony. Heaven and the earth are called high and low respectively (5) not just because they pull open the spatial tension in which physical things exist, but also because they derive from the same origin at which heaven and the earth were not two existential categories. In the beginning

26

textual studies

of reality, there was no-thing, but things were born out of it—including time and space. Compared with Wang Bi’s Nothingness, Ge Hong’s Xuan contains the meaning of ultimate nothing, because the schema “from nothing into being” has already presupposed that primordiality is the state of indefinite formlessness. But Ge Hong has made a point clear: Xuan changes ontologically. Creation by definition is change from a universal to many phenomena. Although the idea of change is implied in Wang Bi’s Nothingness, it is comparatively secondary because the logical sequence of a priori and a posteriori is primary. Like Wang Bi, Ge Hong also speaks of “Xuan upon Xuan.” Quoting from the first chapter of the Laozi,56 Ge Hong does not treat the phrase as a causal connection. A causal connection also implies an infinite regression because there is no end to the trace of the ultimate. Ge Hong’s discussion appears in the context in which he interprets the Book of Changes, especially on the subject that change is the basic truth of the world. Furthermore his thought moves from something to nothing, from external works to inner being. To reach the core of Xuan, philosophy cannot just simply say nothing. It has to pursue the course of something in order to arrive at the formless unity in which all things share the same a priori. Wang Bi would not deny language as a means to arrive at the end. Ge Hong’s poetic writings perform the function of passing from language to meaning. Therefore, an ontological a priori worked out of logical deduction still requires a practical path to attain the end. It is simply because the ultimate is not a cognitive concept, but a state of enlightenment. Enlightenment cannot be just an idea about the ultimate cause, but must be the realization of the world in which the plurality of things converge spontaneously—without cause. If we read Wang Bi’s commentary closely, it suggests that “Xuan upon Xuan” actually contains two kinds of Xuan. “The one that comes first is called the beginning; the one that comes later is called the mother.” Wang Bi’s notion of “the mother” causes confusion. It is not the original idea of the cosmogonical mother in Laozi but is created out of Nothingness as the mother of something. If the “beginning” and the “mother” have different names, then their identities cannot be collapsed into each other and called one single Xuan. If they are not collapsible, then “the mother” has an important role to play in Wang Bi’s thought. Thus the term “the ontology of Nothingness” widely used in Daoist scholarship is misleading.57 For Wang Bi, the something-ness of “the mother” remains as the epistemological path leading into Nothingness. In this respect, both Ge Hong and Wang Bi have interpreted the epistemology of Laozi, but differently.



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao27

“Having known the son, one begins to preserve the mother” (Laozi 52). Through the knowledge of “the son,” “the mother” is indirectly known. This is the direction from the many to the one and from something to nothing. But Wang Bi tends to forget the son after having found the mother, whereas Ge Hong praises the mother by loving the son. In epistemology, when it comes to knowing Xuan, there is no difference between an ontological prior and a cosmogonical prior. Let’s test the theory in cosmogonical terms. The world is not a homogeneity in which many are reducible to a same cause called Nothingness. It has many different parts (all something) and is heterogeneous. If Nothingness stands at the deductive end of reality, this reality still has to be a derivative one. It must act to transform itself from nothing into something so it can be accountable for the many as the mother of all things. How does the change from Nothingness to the myriad things happen? The School of Xuan (as understood by Chinese scholarship) has not escaped the cosmogonical OM question at all. The OM relation that it faced is the same dilemma that cosmogony hopes to address. Xuan Is Being-less Following Laozi’s dialectical philosophy, Ge Hong argues that nothing and something are defined neither in terms of logical opposites, as in Greek thought, nor of causal connection as in Wang Bi. They are relational. “It is ‘there is’ because of billion existences and is ‘there is not’ because of its submerged stillness” (4). The notion of “submerged stillness” translates qianji 潛寂. The word qian 潛 means to be submerged, whereas ji 寂 refers to silence. By joining the two words together Ge Hong creates a motif in which Xuan is submerged into primordiality, which is silent. And he claims the primordiality as Nothingness—wu 無. Ge Hong’s wu is neither a Platonic immaterial idea beyond things nor a phenomenological concept referring to the absence of existence. In the context of the birth of cosmos, it is the generative first cause. Yet its essence still sinks into its formlessness. Thus the best English translation for wu is nothingness in the cosmogonical sense, prior to the coming to be of something. Although nothingness in English can mean nonexistence, here it is necessary to use the translation “nothingness” in order to provoke the distinction between Daoist ontological nothing and Parmenidean-­ Platonic something, and leave the “nonexistence” ambiguity to be dealt with separately. Ge Hong’s idea of the nothingness of Xuan is equivalent to Laozi’s nameless Dao. Dao neither takes physical shape (wuxing 無形) nor bonds to a metaphysical form (wuxiang 無象) (Laozi 14). It rests in the primordial

28

textual studies

state of formlessness (xuan 玄) with its potency (chong 沖) (Laozi 4).58 Ge Hong’s Xuan operates primarily s within this cosmogonical framework set forth by Laozi. The key word in Laozi’s cosmogony is birth—sheng 生. This is exactly what the opening sentence in the narrative on Qi is about. “Xuan is pregnant with the primordial One, universally casts the identities of Yin and Yang, and breathes out the breath of the great beginning” (6). It appears that Ge Hong borrowed the idea directly from Laozi. But between Ge and Laozi there was a commentarial tradition that belonged to Ge’s family lineage. The commentary on the Daodejing by Ge Hong’s granduncle Ge Xuan 葛玄 states: Laozi has personified the spontaneous Nature. He was born out of the Primordial Nothingness [taiwu 太無] and emerged into being without cause. He experienced the beginning and the ending of the cosmos without seeking an honorable title. He was the [personified] end of Nothing without the end, the infinite Nothing without scope, and the eternal Nothing without beginning. Therefore, he is the Endless [wuji 無極]. . . . The title Laozi (the Old Child) refers to his birth out of the mysterious Xuan 玄, which preexists the formation of the universe.59

The apotheosis of Laozi historically belonged to the commentary tradition that divinized the historical Laozi as the personification of Dao.60 The birth narrative of Laozi (which literally means the Old Child) was deliberately aligned with the birth of the world, so the anthropomorphic life of the created world was expressed in the form of the Dao’s incarnation. Unlike his granduncle, Ge Hong does not attribute to Laozi a theistic personality by claiming Laozi as the hypostasis of Dao. For Ge Hong, Laozi is one of many immortals whose immortality is not inborn but rather attained. Even with this major distinction, Ge Hong still directly inherited Daoist cosmogony with a soteriological outlook. He writes, “Those who have personified Xuan Dao . . . emerge out of [that which] there is nothing above and enter into [that which] there is nothing below” (IC 2).61 Later he says, “Without desire without temporality, fulfilling the true and emptying the vessel . . . this formless Nature is the reality that the adept seeks unity with” (IC 3).62 The connections with Laozi and his granduncle cast further light on Ge Hong’s general claim. As in Laozi, the relation between nothing and something is dialectical and inclusive. As in Ge Xuan, the primordial reality prior to the existence of the myriad things is nothing. Similar to both, the scheme of the OM argument is cosmogony. Within these contexts, Ge Hong argues that, between “there is not” and “there is,” there is an



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao29

unfolding birth narrative of the cosmos. The birth narrative of Qi (6) is vividly illustrated in medical terms as gestation prior to birth. It is a major development that an ontological theory is described and supported by the empirical knowledge of medical practice, for which Ge Hong is renowned to this day. Just like a pregnant mother, Xuan embraces and encloses the primordial life of the cosmos within its emptiness. Once Xuan has become pregnant with life, the following development of the “fetus” becomes entirely a spontaneous and evolutionary process of diversification (7, 8). The process leading from the formless one without plurality to the one organic life with many parts becomes the model for the one and the many. This cosmogonical process can be conceptualized in human terms as a genealogical unfolding from one ancestral life into the many lives of the offspring, which represent the discontinuity among the many yet carry the continuity springing from the one. More important, each step of this genealogical one and many is in itself a distinctive one and many as illustrated in the image of gestation. Thus the cosmogony is not a sudden explosion at the beginning of time, but a genealogical unfolding in time with evolutionary openness. Compared with the pre-Socratics’ monism, which originally was articulated in a cosmogonical context, then defined by Parmenides as a logical problem marked by the antithesis between the one and the many, the OM problem for Ge Hong is not a logical problem, but a relational synthesis. The relation rests upon the continuity between the one ancestor and the many progenies. And the continuity is logically traceable to the cosmogonical core at which there exists a dialectic change that has unleashed all changes—from nothing into being. Yet each single birth of a particular is a marvelous creation—from nothing into being.

Summary Within the general disputation of Dao throughout Chinese intellectual history,63 Xuan was an important topic, and it became a distinctive stream in the Wei-Jin period. Laozi first named Xuan upon Xuan “the gate to all wonders.” Yang Xiong developed Xuan into a cosmological scheme with the content of divination borrowed from the Zhou Yi. The School of Xuan also joined the discussion with a commentary tradition. Various commentaries on the Laozi and Zhuangzi shaped the neo-Daoist tradition that transformed itself into an intellectual protest against the New Text Confucianism of the previous Han period. With regard to the School of Xuan, modern scholarship has main-

30

textual studies

tained the distinction between philosophical Daoism and religious Daoism. The categorization has overlooked the connection between the School of Xuan and Ge Hong because the ontology of Nothingness as argued by Wang Bi has been assumed to represent a higher philosophy that has little to do with Ge Hong’s quest for immortality. Again we run into the familiar religion/philosophy division that has been considered historical. As a response to this hermeneutical problem, this chapter has gone the extra distance not only to investigate the similarity between Ge Hong and his contemporary school, but also to analyze the dissimilarity between Ge Hong’s empiricism and Yang Xiong’s idealism. The findings can be summarized as shown in Figure 1.5. In Figure 1.5 the backward arrows refer to the interpretation of the past: Yang Xiong mainly interpreted the Zhou Yi, whereas the School of Xuan reinterpreted the Lao-Zhuang philosophy. Three forward arrows designate the influences of three past traditions in Ge Hong’s thought. Historically the doctrine of Xuan Dao represented the converging point of three intellectual streams: universal change, cosmogony, and empiricism. Between the Book of Changes composed in the pre-Qin period and the Baopuzi published in the Jin, there was a succession of commentary traditions. Laozi and Zhuangzi were major intellectual landmarks before Han New Text Confucianism. Ge Hong reinterpreted universal change— Yi— through his thesis of “Change is the principle of Nature.” The most fundamental form of change is understood in the cosmogonical context: the primordial change that activated all changes. This “from nothing into being” schema is a direct interpretation of Lao-Zhuang intellectualism and is indirectly connected with Wang Bi’s ontology of Nothingness. Contrary

Fig. 1.5.  Three influences on Ge Hong’s thought



ge hong’s doctrine of xuan dao31

to Yang Xiong, Ge Hong abandoned Confucian idealism but embraced Daoist naturalism. And the naturalism went hand in hand with the instrumental astronomy developed in the Han and Jin periods. Overall, Ge Hong’s discourse on Xuan belonged to the tradition that took Xuan as the ultimate topic for philosophical discernment.

chapter 2

Plato’s Answer to the Pre-Socratic Debate

The study of Plato has many starting points. I start from the book of Parmenides because of its obvious discussion of the one and the many. Having said this, one cannot ignore the current Plato scholarship on the subject. Yet reading Plato and reading someone else’s readings of Plato create two different issues. The former is the historical issue that Greek antiquity is far distant from the modern world. The latter is a methodological problem in that the analytical tradition of the Plato scholarship is very remote from the Daoists, who do not think cognitively through the mind but contemplate empirically through the body. To begin with Parmenides, we must know the complicity involved in reading and interpreting the book. The Parmenides in the book Parmenides is not the historical Parmenides, but Plato’s spokesperson for his own thought. Yet under Plato’s creative writing, the figure still resembles the distinctive train of thought of the historical Parmenides. Among all of Plato’s dialogues, the book is traditionally regarded as one of the most difficult books for two main reasons: Plato’s employment of the Parmenidean logic, which is mind stretching even for analytical philosophy, and Plato’s hidden intention in writing the book, which has been interpreted so diversely from being a masterpiece of metaphysics to a humbling selfcriticism. Against this complex background, therefore, the starting point is to understand Parmenides in the pre-Socratic debate of the One and the many, and his influence on Plato that led to the book Parmenides.

The Pre-Socratic Debate Material Monism and Pluralism The Milesian school began with Thales of Miletus (625–545? BC),1 who lived about half a century before Confucius (551–479 BC). They were the contemporaries of the early Daoism of the period when one of the earliest versions of Laozi was circulated.2 Thales was the first thinker to argue 32



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate33

for natural evolution based on material change. The world derived from a single stuff called water, and the meteorological changes of the one produced the many (11B3).3 Almost all the Presocratic philosophies have been passed down as fragments. They are preserved as quotations in subsequent ancient authors, from Plato to Simplicius over a period of ten centuries. Scholars generally agree that Plato is relatively less faithful to his sources and often mixes paraphrase and exegesis when he recalls the works of previous thinkers. Aristotle, on the contrary, did valuable surveys of his predecessors’ arguments. Although his interpretations were often distorted by his view of the past, many Presocratic ideas are preserved in his Physics, Metaphysics, and De Caelo. On Thales Aristotle called the change one of “moist things” and applied his categorization to label meteorological change a “natural principle” (Metaphysics 983b17–27). When water evaporated, moist air emerged. When it solidified, stone formed. Because of the material nature of water, Aristotle interprets it as the material cause. However, Aristotle’s recollection of Thales involves his interpretation, which secretly transforms cosmogonical matter into one of immaterial principles of cause. The single stuff was meant to be unlimited in a cosmogonical sense,4 rather than the limited cause in a material sense. Aristotle explored the ambiguity and placed it in his own philosophical categories, turning water from a general One into a particular many, such as water as the cause of steam. The idea of unlimited stuff was later made clear by Anaximander (610– 540 BC?), a successor and pupil of Thales. On the one and many, he followed naturalism and argued the indefinite and limitless as the primal stuff, and fragments of the original thought were preserved in the early Christian records The Refutation of All Heresies (12B2).5 The limitless stuff was not Thales’ material monism, but contained plural “elements,” which were not four traditional elemental stuffs (earth, water, fire, and air), but rather more like principles (Physics 203b4–30). Anaximander was a pioneer in geometry, discovered the equinox and the solstice, and perfected the sundial. He also argued the biological theory that “from water and earth” animals arose under the “heated” condition.6 The combination of the limitless stuff and the biological theory makes his OM view more comparable to Ge Hong’s argument than Thales’.7 However, Ge Hong’s one and many is far more complex and Anaximander’s biology has little surviving evidences to pursue a meaningful comparison. Anaximander’s pupil Anaximenes further argued that the basic substance was air. Compared with Daoist Qi, air was evolutionary. But contrary to Qi’s biological change from one to many forms of life, air was

34

textual studies

mainly explained in terms of a change of density. Rarefaction generated fire; condensation produced water, even stone.8 But Anaximenes added that our souls were basically air, which “hold us together,” and “breath and air encompass the whole world.” 9 Evidently Anaximenes’ air is a combination of Thales’ meteorology and Anaximander’s biology. Apart from the similarity that the air is as biologically productive as Ge Hong’s vital Qi, two theories of change diverge. Ge Hong stood in the alchemical tradition. He did not only view change as a transformation of kind like a chemical process in a crucible, but also demonstrated the transformation between cinnabar and mercury. Anaximenes returned to Thales and explained change as a variation of degree, such as the interchange of water and moisture, but the change from air to stone remained a belief rather than demonstrated fact. Two Opposed Forms of Ontology After the early material naturalism, two more materialists joined the OM debate: Heraclitus, a native of Ephesus, north of Miletus (died c. 470–478 BC), and Parmenides (c. 480 BC), the founder of the Eleatics. Before Parmenides, Heraclitus argued the flux theory. “We do not step into the same river as we are and we are not” (22B49a). Similar to the concept of change in the Book of Changes, Heraclitus’ changing “river” is perpetual. Similar to Ge Hong’s changing Dao, change is not illusion, but permanent reality. The second element of flux theory is dialectical thought. “The sea is the most pure and most polluted water: for fish, drinkable and life-preserving; for men, undrinkable and death-dealing” (22B61). “Day and night are one. And so are good and bad” (22B57). Dialectical thought appears to be a mingling of opposites, against which Parmenides’ unchangeable Being becomes acute. Because of the equivocal nature of dialectical thinking, historically perhaps driven by a need to seek permanent truth, the flux theory is viewed as uncomprehensive by Aristotle and as heretical by Christian commentators.10 But what Heraclitus means could be the very opposite. Just as Yin and Yang diversify Qi, the opposition of day and night together forms the unity; one changing reality gives rise to the two. Either one cannot be understood without the other. The common ground between the two is the true nature of the two. The “river” generates the many; the many float in the changing unity of the One. Out of the change, many emerge. Heraclitus’ doctrine of flux is closely associated with the eternal Fire. “All things are constituted from fire and resolve into fire” (22B3). “Turning off fire: first, sea; of sea, half is earth, half lightning flash” (22B31). The fire functions as a cosmogonical potency that turns a wheel of change with-



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate35

out beginning and ending.11 Within the circle, fire vivifies the changing logos. The changing fire becomes the substance exactly opposite to the Parmenidean resting One. For Heraclitus the truth of change was creative, as he said, “from all things one, from one all things” (22B10). This creative change was actually the answer to the uncreative One of Parmenides. If the fire and the flux can be mingled as the cosmogonical One, this is the closest concept to Qi among pre-Socratic monism. But the difficulties in establishing the comparison come down to one issue. On change, Heraclitus says, “cold things become hot, hot cold, wet dry, and parched moist” (22B126). Thus he relied on metrological change first proposed by Thales to explain the creative change “from all things one, from one all things.” But metrological change is physical change. On cosmogony, he says, “the world, the same for all, neither any god nor any man made; but it was always and is and will be, fire ever-living, kindling in measures and being extinguished in measures” (22B30). This natural evolution of fire seems to point toward an alchemical understanding of change similar to Ge Hong’s alchemical fire that kindles and regulates changes in a crucible. However, no further evidence can be found to establish that the fire shares the same material and alchemical nature as Qi. It is possible that alchemy was foreign not only to Heraclitus, but also to the whole Greek tradition from the pre-Socratics to Plato and Aristotle. Parmenides stood for monist idealism but against Heraclitus’ ontological change. Parmenides had a mystical vision that was revealed to him by the goddess. The revelation recorded in his poem was a journey toward enlightenment from the “Way of Opinion” to the “Way of Truth.” In the poem, the One is defined as “ungenerated and indestructible, whole, of one kind and unwavering, and complete” (28B8, 1–4). Under the condition that change was mainly understood as physical variation among the early materialists, Parmenides’ unchangeable One had a radical element. For instance, if water is the One, through evaporation it becomes steam, or through condensation it turns into ice. Because steam and ice are varied forms of water, they share the same being as water. Therefore there is no change but variation of the same water. This concept of “change as homogonous variation” is arguably the most profound and most problematic for Plato. It comes down to the question how to address the issue of change ontologically. Parmenides’ unchangeable ontology had an unshakable impact on Plato. Plato’s Forms are unchanging ideas. Each idea determined many homogonous variations of the idea, yet physical things associated with change are systematically treated as unreality. This type of unchanging ontology is a direct result Parmenides’ seemly convincing argument. Parmenides’ One is the

36

textual studies

only Being, and the Being cannot change. Parmenides says, “That it is and that it cannot not be” (28B2, 1–6). Put in the language of being, it means “Being without not-being.” This argument rests upon the logic of exclusion. That is, within the most fundamental being, there cannot be two things in opposition; otherwise it is not one but two. For instance, good and evil cannot form the same idea, simply because they are logically exclusive. This is a powerful weapon invented by Parmenides. It is also arguably one of most enduring ideas in Western metaphysics. Plato later systematically developed and turned it into the doctrine of Forms. We will come back to this point in greater detail, but we leave Parmenides now as there are two more groups to be introduced. Pythagorean Immaterial Pluralism and the Material Pluralism of Empedocles Contrary to the natural cosmogony of the Milesian School, Pythagoras professed the immaterial and otherworldly nature of the world’s origin. With his combination of theology and mathematics, Pythagoras preached transmigration of immortal souls, on the one hand,12 and on the other hand argued that the illusory physical world was ordered by immaterial and mathematical principles—invisible but real.13 The doctrine that “all things are numbers” belonged to the Pythagorean School in south Italy. From Aristotle we read: “The so-called Pythagoreans touched on the mathematical sciences: they were the first . . . to think that their principles were the principles of everything that exists. And since of mathematical entities numbers are by nature primary, and among these they seemed to observe many similarities with entities and thing coming to being, rather than in fire and earth and water . . .” (Metaphysics 985b23–27). Even though the Pythagoreans followed the doctrine of “all things are numbers,” as Aristotle recorded in another passage, they only managed to explain a limited range of things by means of numbers.14 It was Plato who transformed the Pythagorean numerical entities into ontological ideas with the same kind of otherworldliness.15 This inclination also sets Plato apart from the material monists but moves him closer to the antimaterialists. Like the Pythagoreans, Plato favored idealism. Plato’s idealism over materialism is most evident in his doctrine of creation presented in the Timaeus. Pythagorean mathematics was formally applied to Empedocles’ four elements and reduced the four into two primary triangles. The deductive approach did not apply only to the limited pluralism of Empedocles, but also to unlimited atoms argued by Leucippus and Democritus. Thus the Platonic Demiurge relied on elements as



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate37

the building blocks to create the material world, ordering them by assembling geometric structures with mathematical principles. Is this Pythagorean treatment an advance over Empedocles’ elements and atomism, or retrogression toward natural philosophy? We shall see below.

Plato’s Answer to the Pre-Socratic Debate For and against Parmenides Among Plato’s predecessors it was Parmenides who influenced Plato most in his ontological vision that the world is essentially a unity rather than a plurality. Epistemologically, Parmenides’ logic had direct impact on Plato’s theory of knowledge: the world is intelligible through logical reasoning, and logic is the tool to discover underlying rationality in the changing world. Contrary to Heraclitus’ thesis “change is ontological,” Parmenides’ unchanging Being is truly ontological, thus truly real. Therefore to understand reality means to look beyond changing phenomena and arrive at the unchanging core of Being. Plato’s negative attitude toward the physical world is driven by the Parmenidean instinct to seek something permanent, in this case the ontological status of the physical world, which is not only immune to change, but also persists through the temporality created by change. The doctrine of Forms is Plato’s chief attempt to establish a system of universals, which exist ontologically independent of changing phenomena but govern the physical world. With the plurality of Forms, Plato’s one and many evidently has turned away from Parmenides’ denial of plurality. Similar to the atomists, Plato accepts plurality as the fundamental feature of the world. Moreover, under the influence of Pythagorean antimaterialism, Plato’s immaterial Forms also mark a sharp contrast with the Parmenidean material Being. Beyond these two aspects of difference, as we shall see below, the doctrine of Forms is both for and against Parmenides’ doctrine of Being. Plato’s double-world view of invisible Forms and physical world has built directly on Parmenides’ ontological divide between Being and Becoming. Parmenides divides the world into two categories of existence—Being and Becoming—and corresponding to them two ways of inquiry—the way of truth and the way of opinion.16 Plato in the Republic (509d–511e) pictures the world in two subordinate orders—intelligible and visible—and in the Timaeus (51) postulates the ideal/actual duality that the actual world of Becoming is the created copy of the ideal world of Being. The collective terms “the intelligible” and “the ideal” ontologically refer to the objects of Forms and epistemologically correspond to the Par-

38

textual studies

menidean way of “knowledge.” The terms “the visible” and “the actual” designate perceptible things that in totality cannot exist without ideal Forms. Empirical knowledge of the visible only produces low-class “belief,” which echoes the Parmenidean way of “opinion.” Just as Parmenides insists, “What can be thought is only Being,” 17 Plato also develops the idea that true knowledge is only possible through knowing primary beings. For instance, to know chairs essentially is to know what the “chair-ness” is about. Because the ontology of “chair-ness” determinates any concrete knowledge of chairs, to know chairs can be reduced to the knowledge of the Form. Just as Parmenides’ way of truth corresponds with the metaphysical reality of Being, for Plato coming to knowledge is not about empirical study, but a cognitive exercise that elevates the mind from perception of physical things to engage in a dialogue with Forms. The doctrine of Forms is Plato’s indirect criticism of Heraclitus’ flux theory and his systematic answer in agreement with Parmenides’ separation of being and change. Parmenides critiqued the view that the universe derived from a changing origin held by the pre-Socratic monists, who asserted that the world of plurality derived from a primordial unity. This criticism in itself sets forth the anthesis of being and change, or being against change. Plato also critiqued Heraclitus’ flux theory with the same argument. The flux theory implied that the one and the many could not be understood apart. It should not be thought of as logical confusion that many are one and one is also many; as Plato puts it “reality is both many and one” (Sophist 242d). Rather the one is the underlying unity of opposites.18 The mingling of one and many results in nothing ever possessing a certain being; rather everything is becoming. Having become preoccupied with the Parmenidean instinct of seeking fixed truth, Plato accused Heraclitus of promoting a philosophy in which “everything moves and nothing rests” (Cratylus 402A). Plato’s view went hand in hand with the contemporary Heraclitus school, which mistakenly interpreted flux in the negative sense. But there is a logos in flux according to Heraclitus—change is that logos. Plato took flux as the greatest warning against materialism, rather than as wisdom on the changing logos. Perhaps even if Plato had seen the wisdom, he would still choose the Parmenidean path for logical clarity and reject the moral confusion of “good and bad are one” via Socratic ethics. Plato’s rejection of Heraclitus’ ontological change sets his ontology in agreement with Parmenides. More precisely, he rejected Heraclitus because of his acceptance of Parmenides. The result is predictable. Plato disassociates change from being—Forms—while at the same time ascribing change to physical things—sensibles (to use the technical term). The



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate39

dichotomy of Forms and sensibles is Plato’s Parmenidean solution to the problem of being and change. Each Form constitutes what a class of things unchangingly is, in contrast to what a class of physical things perpetually becomes. Each Form is a permanent being, unalterable in changing circumstances and immaterial. A sensible is material, temporal, and constantly becoming something else. No permanent truths can be positively affirmed in changing things; only fallible opinions flow with the current of changing appearance. Therefore the doctrine of Forms is overall a Parmenidean denial of Heraclitus’ flux theory. Parmenides treats one and many as logical antitheses: one is not many and many not one. Plato only partially accepts this logic. Each Form as an indivisible one is opposed to sensibles as many: a Form is not sensibles, nor are sensibles Forms. For Parmenides one cannot become many without ceasing to be one; therefore the one world cannot contain many parts. However, the doctrine of Forms is a qualified rejection of this doctrine of “one without many.” Each Form is a universal “one [causing being] over many [caused things].” The world contains multiple Forms irreducible to a single Parmenidean Being. It is this system of Forms that is required to critique Parmenides’ denial of plurality. Because the Forms are plural, there are various determinative causes of “one over many” that determine the myriad things in the world. The doctrine of Forms is Plato’s central attempt to create a metaphysical synthesis from the logical anthesis of one and many articulated by Parmenides. With Forms, the notion of one is no longer limited to cosmogonical discussion. As long as Forms are discussed, the OM issue is inevitably there. This was a remarkable paradigm shift from cosmogonical ontology to cosmological ontology, from a concern about “what the world primarily is” to a concern about “what the world is made up of.” The shift also indicated that Plato had moved away from material monism but toward ideal pluralism. Another rejection of Parmenides is the uncreative nature of monism. For Parmenides one cannot become many without ceasing to be one; therefore plurality cannot arise from unity. However, Plato rejects the argument bound to the logical antithesis of one and many in his doctrine of creation. Creation by nature is understood as transformation from one to many. We shall keep in mind these two rejections that set Plato and his teacher apart. The Nature of the Book Pa r m e n i d e s What is the chief purpose of the Parmenides? The book traditionally is divided into two parts. In the first and shorter part (126a–135c), Plato made the young Socrates expound his theory of Forms to the elderly Par-

40

textual studies

menides and his pupil Zeno. Then Plato placed Parmenides in charge of the conversation and put the theory of Forms under various objections, to which Plato’s usual spokesman—Socrates—had failed to reply. The elderly Parmenides then pointed out a meaningful path for the young man, indicating that he needed more rigorous training in logic. The puzzling point is this: why does Plato make his doctrine of Forms subject to serious criticism? In particular why does he make himself vulnerable before two major attacks—the separation of Forms from sensibles and the indefinite regress of the Third Man Argument? The second part and longer dialogue (136a–166c) consists of various antinomies if purely examined by logic. When Plato applied the Parmenidean unity theory that “all things are one” to various hypothetical situations, Plato showed there to be an underlying paradox that unity and plurality could either both be affirmed or both be denied. Plato suggested that any denial of Forms as universals would inevitably lead to the denial of each form’s determined plurality—the predicator of its being; the affirmation of unity was simultaneously the affirmation of plurality. Why did the discussion of beings lead to the inclusive relation between one and many? The inclusiveness in itself was the antithesis that the Parmenidean logic neither permitted nor was able to solve. Plato ended the book with this greatest puzzle overshadowing all subsidiary puzzles. The precise nature of the book has been a philosophical obscurity, and distinctive views have been held regarding its purpose. In the past century, the second part of the book has been interpreted in various ways: from a joke to a great metaphysical exercise. Burnet, followed by Taylor, presented the theory that the second part was a philosophical joke. In the exhaustive dialogue Plato played “the game of abstract formal logic” against Eleatic philosophers who used their “corrupt logic” against certain aspects of Plato’s Forms. In return Plato aimed to show their reasoning actually yielded various absurd consequences.19 In the commentary by Cornford, the joke theory was rejected on the basis that the second part contained “definite” philosophical content aimed at exploring and critiquing the ambiguous nature of Parmenides’ One.20 Gilbert Ryle also rejected the joke theory and argued that “the arguments of the dialogue were either valid, or else plausible enough for their author to have taken them to be so.” 21 Furthermore, he suggested a self-critical element in the dialogue. Contrary to Cornford’s Plato, who was in total control when criticizing Parmenides, Ryle thought (in line with Aristotle) that Plato did not realize the inevitable antinomies of Forms until he had constructed “the logical apparatus.” 22 This self-critical theory raised the central question of why Plato did not modify the doctrine of Forms after he had exposed some fundamental



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate41

errors in his thought. Runciman argued the reflection theory, saying that the dialogue reflected “Plato’s own comments” on his own theory.23 The complexity of Forms was “not precisely definable” for the trained (Eleatic) philosophers.24 The dialogue appeared to be metaphysically serious in the light of Parmenidean logic but actually was never serious enough for Plato to abandon Forms. Hence Plato continued to hold to his belief about Forms in various passages written after the Parmenides.25 Robinson also argued that Plato regarded the objection to Forms—the Dilemma of Participation—to be serious but not fatal.26 What kind of problem could be serious but not fatal? With the aporetic theory Allen interpreted the dialogue as aporetic and akin to the Beta of Aristotle’s Metaphysics.27 Contrary to a mere objection to a proposition, what Plato demonstrated in the dialogue were puzzles; each puzzle involved a paradox of disproving both a proposition and its denial. Thus the dialogue could be read as a great metaphysical exercise that explored the aporetic nature of Forms. As the above survey shows, the precise nature of the second part is a matter of dispute. But many scholars have been convinced, even with differing interpretations, that Plato demonstrated an underlying paradox. Similar to the Daoist relational ontology of essence and existence, unity and plurality can only be either both affirmed or both denied. A closer look at the dialogue reveals the paradox. The investigation that follows is inspired by the recent work by Samuel Scolnicov, which treats the Parmenides primarily as a dramatic narrative.28 However, it differs from Scolnicov’s work on the content of the “drama” because the dialogue partner is a Daoist.

Is Plato’s Par m e n i d e s a Book on “One and Many” or a Criticism of Eleatic Logic? “If One Is” and “If One Is Not” Hypotheses In the affirmation arguments Plato considers the logic of being in four hypotheses of “if one is.” Bear in mind that the following inferences rely on the logic of negation: one and many are exclusive entities because one is not many and many not one. (a) If the hypothesis “unity is one without many [many denied]” (137c–142a) is affirmed, then unity has no plurality.

It becomes the unity transcending all others. The transcending unity cannot be a Parmenidean One either because for Parmenides the world is one

42

textual studies

containing a homogeneous many with the exact same ontological property as the One. Thus one is neither the one (of Parmenides) nor the many (of pluralists). This particular aspect of transcending both by negating both greatly inspired Neoplatonism. The absolute one beyond all was identified as God with a creative capacity similar to the Form of Good in the Republic and the Demiurge in the Timaeus. It is also beyond the reach of reason. (b) If “unity is one with many [many affirmed]” (142b–155e) is affirmed, unity is a whole of parts and contains plurality.

Thus unity is an assembly of many, a form of togetherness. According to the doctrine of Forms, the structure of one over many (OVM) categories assembles various realities into the togetherness of various things of the same kind. (c) “If unity is both one and many” (157b–159b), unity gets a share of becoming and becomes many.

Since unity cannot come to be or cease to be, unity as one is denied. Since many cannot be one (Zeno’s denial of plurality), unity as many is denied. Thus unity is neither one nor many. (d) “If unity is one apart from many” (159b–160b), plurality has no unity, as pluralists assert.

In order to affirm unity, it must transcend plurality. Yet one must be absolutely apart from many; it has nothing to unify. Just as the first hypothesis, “unity is one without many,” yields the result that unity is a self-subsistent entity, neither a unity of many nor one of the many, a self-subsistent entity can be neither one nor many. These hypotheses (with the exception of the second) demonstrate an underlying paradox. Deriving from the same affirmative statement “if one is,” by Parmenidean logical deduction they actually produce the negation of the proposition—unity is not one. The denial of unity simultaneously is the denial of plurality; “unity is neither one nor many.” Unity and plurality can only both be rejected. The second hypothesis is an OVM situation declared in the doctrine of Forms. It implies a simultaneous affirmation of unity and plurality. In the negative arguments Plato considers Parmenides’ not-being in the following hypotheses on “if one is not.”



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate43 (a) If “unity is not being” (160b–163b), what happens to one?

According to Parmenides’ false assumption that the negation of being is not-being and equals nonexistence, then the being-less unity does not exist. Unity as an empty concept affirms nothing, neither one nor many. (b) If “unity is not one” (163b–164b), what happens to one?

Without being anything in particular, it is without any character at all. It is indefinite. (c) If “unity is not being” (164b–165e), what happens to many?

If unity does not exist, the absence of one makes many undetermined (both becoming and not becoming) and chaotic, just as the primordial chaos in the Timaeus. Thus to deny the existence of unity is also to deny the existence of plurality—the myriad things. (d) If “unity is no one” (165e–166c), what happens to many?

If unity is nonparticular, many will also be denied, since if many exist, unity could be in them as one of many. Without many, unity can be nowhere. The hypotheses rest on the negative form of the verbal noun “to be,” namely, “to be not.” I will discuss the issue of verbal nouns in a separate chapter in conjunction with Daoist concepts of nothing and something. Here I concentrate on a core issue: with the negation arguments, Plato has closed all roads for Eleatic logic to have any positive contribution toward understanding the OM problem. What Plato has shown in eight hypotheses is essentially one central argument. One and many are paradoxically related; Eleatic logic cannot simply solve the problem by applying the logic of exclusion to keep one and many apart. The paradox is basically the fundamental weakness of Parmenidean logic. Once the OM problem has been discussed in the context of Forms, it cannot be simply explained as a set of logical antitheses, which would yield a series of absurd results, as Plato has demonstrated. But Plato has not taken an important step forward. If one and many can be both affirmed or denied, it implies that they are coupled. Then, the question is this: is it a relational problem? Ge Hong’s relational ontology asserts that Dao is paradoxically both one and many, both transcendent beyond the world and immanent in Nature. Ge Hong understands that the ontological life of Dao must be transcendent beyond apparent change in the world as the

44

textual studies

grand ancestor of all, yet it also must be immanent in the many in order for the myriad things to be the diversification of ancestral life. Dao and the myriad things (one and many) are relational. Like Ge Hong, Plato also realizes that unity and plurality are inclusive concepts. And he did conceive a relational ontology as Ge Hong did in the biological model. However, he ended the dialogue without further comment about his realization of the inclusiveness that had been produced by formal logic that presupposes exclusiveness. This is because to a large degree Plato has accepted Eleatic logic as a philosophical tool, and that very acceptance impels him to be committed to the validity of the result. The result is true because it confirms what the doctrine of Forms implies. The world consists of Forms and sensibles, a combination of unity and plurality. On the one hand, each Form has a structure of one over many by predicating a class of sensibles sharing the same name. Even though the many cannot contribute ontological value to the being of the one, without the many one is a mere empty name, and has nothing to predicate. On the other hand, each Form is also one among many in the system of Forms. Without the plurality of Forms the world of many could be reduced to Parmenidean homogeneity if the one and many were treated solely in logical terms. Therefore the doctrine of Forms does imply that one and many are relational. But as to what exactly the relation means for the system of Forms, a unity containing multiple Forms, I would like to postpone the discussion and to keep our thought trained on the critique of Parmenides. Plato believes the world is a system of harmony because the system of unchanging Forms transcends the world of changing phenomena. Having invented the doctrine of Forms, Plato cannot go back to the Parmenidean homogeneous world without plurality, nor will he leave the atomists’ Parmenidean miniatures—atoms—floating in being-less spaces without a unity. However, the challenge is how to maintain that Forms are both ontologically separate (or transcendent) from sensibles and phenomenologically present (immanent) in them. The challenge is again Parmenidean in kind. The ontological divide of Being/Becoming, which secures the separation, also seriously limits the participation that is required for each Form to be empirically traceable in sensibles as well as the intelligibility of the universals to be conceived through physical objects. This problem of separation/participation is exactly what Eleatic spokesman Parmenides (and Aristotle also) rejects in the first part of Plato’s book. Why did Plato choose to make the doctrine of Forms vulnerable to attack? I would argue that it is simply because the central motif of the book is “against” Parmenides, not “for” the Eleatic school. Plato chooses to put



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate45

forward the theory under objections precisely because the problem of separation is an inherited problem from the Parmenidean dualism of Being and Becoming. Plato exhibits the criticisms before people influenced by Eleaticism within the Academy. With his intellectual openness and creative writing, he invites someone wise—the founder of the school—to join the discussion. In another dialogue on ontological matter—the Sophist—Plato also invites an Eleatic stranger who turns out to be a well-trained logician from the school. Here the hidden agenda of exposing problems concerning Forms is actually to reassess the problem of separation against the background of Being-Becoming. For some well-trained philosophers, this premise that derived from the historical Parmenides is accountable for the fundamental issue of Forms. The fact that Plato did not make major modifications after having completed the book to a large degree is because Plato can turn against Parmenides in the dialogue but cannot really run away from his tradition of being. Among Plato’s predecessors, no one had produced a premise that was nearly powerful as the Parmenidean One to lay the foundation upon which Plato’s own rational philosophy could be constructed in the midst of Heraclitean flux. Plato had no intention to leave the tradition of being. Subsequently he neither abandoned his doctrine of Forms nor conducted major modification in later dialogues such as the Timaeus. His arguments “against” and “for” Parmenides were an intellectual device similar to what Marx did with Hegel. The Separation of Forms from Sensibles If we read the two parts of the dialogue in reverse order, the second part is Plato’s offensive move against criticisms by reducing the propositions to perplexities even formal logic is unable to disentangle. The first part, then, is a defensive move where Plato makes himself vulnerable before objections. Nevertheless he has examined some of the twisted logic of his time. To expose two major problems of his own—the dilemma of participation and the unknowable Forms—is to expose the premise of Parmenides. Plato is a master of philosophical dialogues, and like his other dialogues this one’s narrative line twists and turns, ultimately apologetic. The key to understanding the narrative is a philosophical premise set out in the prologue. Various criticisms late in the book rely on this core proposition. Historically Zeno of Elea (c. 470 BC) was the associate of Parmenides (126c). Here Plato uses what is possibly a developed version of Parmenides’ monism, but it is attributed to Zeno. Hence Plato uses one of Zeno’s paradoxes to underline the issue of why the Parmenidean unity is an explicit denial of plurality (127d–128e).

46

textual studies (a) “If thing are many, they must be both like and unlike.” (b) “Like things cannot be unlike nor unlike things, like.” (c) “Therefore there cannot be many things. Plurality is impossible.”

The underlying argument of Zeno’s paradox is the logical exclusion of “like/unlike.” It is Zeno’s fallacy. If all things are categorized by the logic of exclusion, then all relations between things in the world are erased by the exclusion, because relations are both like and unlike. For instance, the relationship between father and son is like and unlike: like by inheritance, unlike by diversification. If the logic of exclusion is applied, the both/and relation is forced to two logical poles without any association in between, on which relationships depend. The paradox of the relational like/unlike in Zeno’s argument mirrors the sameness/difference issue in the OM problem. But what Zeno has done is to use the logic of opposition either/or to set like/unlike in terms of polarization rather than recognizing them as a pair of relations. The latter is exactly the core of Ge Hong’s genealogical unfolding from one to many. The “either/or” entails that there will be either no likeness or no unlikeness between father and sons simply because any affirmation of the relation is the very rejection of it by the exclusion. It is interesting that Plato preconditions the whole dialogue in the prologue by crowning Zeno’s paradox as an abiding treaty for himself and its critics. As the text demonstrates, once the young Socrates enters into this treaty, he cannot get out. Following the prologue, the book demonstrates some key objections to Plato’s theory of Forms. Parmenides’ criticism focusing on the problem of separation consists of two aspects: the problem of separation of Forms from sensibles and the dilemma of participation. In one passage (130b–e) Parmenides attacks an inherited problem of Forms in the Phaedo and the Republic. According to the theory, justice is the Form of many just deeds and virtues that share the same name, but the Form of justice remains as a transcendental ideal above social conditions. Par­men­ides names this separation problem for Socrates by asking a simple question: is a human character separate from us (130c)? Following the logic of Forms, Socrates’ answer should be “yes,” but he becomes unsure because the theory of Forms implies the absurdity that human characters are separate entities apart from the reality of being a human. Parmenides recognizes Socrates’ perplexity and pushes the attack further by extending the scope of the problem from the ethical to the empirical sphere. Are there independent Forms for “hair or mud or dirt or any other trivial and undignified objects” (130c)? Socrates could only dismiss the question by saying that unphilosophical things have no place in the sys-



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate47

tem of moral and mathematical Forms. But the answer leaves the problem of content wide open: how many Forms are there? More important, how can it be decided what is a Form and what is not? When the doctrine of Forms has been applied to the world containing nonethical and nonmathematical objects, Platonic metaphysics seemingly cannot address the full contents of the physical world. The doctrine of Forms is a selective system through the filters of Socratic ethics and Pythagorean mathematics. But the admission of those trivial objects will equally lead the young Socrates into “a bottomless pit of nonsense” (130d). Based on the problem of separation, Parmenides further raises the dilemma of participation. He reasons that insofar as the problem of separation exists, it also prevents Forms from full participation in sensibles. If one Form is separated from many sensibles, then how can it participate in them? The concept of participation requires the one to partake in the many (131a). For participation to happen, the numerical one must separate from itself in order to partake in many; for participation will violate the principle of separation. Yet still, if the one partakes in the many, one Form has to be partly or fully present in sensibles. The one needs to be in many places at once. As a result, just as a large sail covers many people (131b), because it is placed above people, it only covers each person with a portion of the large sail but not the whole. In other words, for the one to partake in the many, it has to be divided. Then if the divided one consists of parts (131c), it is a unity containing plurality—both one and many. It will no longer be a numerical one. Furthermore, according to the principle of divisibility (131c–d), any part of divided Largeness is smaller than Largeness, and any part of divided Smallness is smaller than Smallness; then Largeness will contain the character of the small, and Smallness will be larger than its parts. If this reasoning were correct (it is actually false), then Parmenides questions: “How are the other things going to partake of your Forms, if they can partake of them neither in part nor as wholes?” (131e). The question implies that the smaller parts of Largeness, which are small, not large, cannot partake in the Form of Largeness. Likewise the smaller parts of Smallness, which are smaller than Smallness, cannot partake in the Form of Smallness because Smallness is larger than divided parts. Parmenides’ reasoning is wrong on various grounds. First of all, the reasoning is based on the false assumption, as Cornford rightly points out, that Largeness and Smallness are material things that are divisible.29 To carry this insight further, in the analogy of “a large sail covering many people,” the same assumption is used to treat Forms as materially divisible. The young Socrates did not recognize this premise as contrary to

48

textual studies

his understanding of Forms. But Plato is absolutely clear that Forms are immaterial and indivisible beings. The young Socrates did not realize that the criticism can be easily refuted by another analogy. If immaterial and indivisible “sky” instead of the material “sail” covers many people in different parts of the world, then each person does not have a divided sky above them, but the same and whole sky. The one over many premise stays. The point at which Socrates has become bogged down even to the point of having no reply is his own ambiguous distinction of “like/unlike.” In the early passage, Socrates declares “like/unlike” to be logical antithesis (129b), thus failing to recognize that they are relational contraries—one cannot be meaningful without the other. If a Form cannot contain the polarized “like/unlike,” the Parmenidean logic of division impels him to accept that Largeness cannot compose the Form of Large (or like), and the smaller parts of divided large (or unlike) at the same time. To be sure, the whole notion of unlike “parts” is based on the assumption of material divisible being. This is a twist made by contemporary thought, when the logic of division is applied to Forms. But the historical Parmenides did not hold such a view. He regarded the One as an indivisible material unity. The young Socrates somehow surrenders to the idea of divisible being, which the doctrine of Forms rejects, without a “fight.” So he accepts the dilemma of participation as “not an easy matter to determine” in the way that Parmenides has framed it for him. Second, Parmenides permits only two kinds of participation: one in many by presence and many in one by partaking. In the notions of “presence” and “partaking” there is a hidden problem. Parmenides employs these concepts to explore the dilemma of participation. To keep Forms separate from sensibles Plato wants to maintain the transcendence of Forms. If Forms slip into a state of total immanence, for Plato the damage is that rational Forms—the objects of knowledge—become entangled with irrational becoming in the physical world. In the Parmenides the separation has been stated as a symmetry that Forms are separate from sensibles and sensibles from Forms. In Metaphysics (XIII) Aristotle also recognizes that, according to Plato, Forms are separate from sensibles and capable of existing apart, and points out that “the separation is responsible for all the problems with the Forms” (1086a). Aristotle is correct to critique the separation; Parmenides is not wrong to name the symmetry of separation. However, what is wrong about Parmenides’ reasoning is that he attributes a symmetrical relation to participation also. Proclus rightly identified this asymmetrical relation long ago.30 For instance, sons resemble their father’s characters. It is all right to say the



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate49

father’s character participates in the sons but not correct to imagine that the characters of the sons participate in the father. Similarly, modeling Forms (as in the Timaeus) participate in sensibles by creating physical things as copies of the models, but the reverse is false. The causal relation between Forms and sensibles or the models and their copies is irreversible. The separation between the cause and the caused must be maintained, just as the Demiurge must be self-differentiated from his creatures. Ge Hong’s relational ontology, the one and many, contains this asymmetrical participation. One creates the myriad things, but the myriad things do not create One. The creative order “from one to many” cannot be reversed. However, what is reversible is the potency of ancestral life— the immanence within many, which has manifested in individual lives. That is to say, the One can be understood in and through the many. Using the same example, the resembled characters in the sons are traceable to the father. By understanding inherited characters in the sons, some aspects of the father’s life can be traced as the origin. Nonetheless, the father is always ontologically independent of the sons; the sons are neither identical with the father nor with each other. There exist discontinuity and continuity between the father and the sons. This is how Ge Hong maintains that the One is both transcendent and immanent in individuality. For Plato the separation has secured the transcendental status of Forms: being itself. A Form requires no external contribution and is indivisible. But this is only the discontinuity between one and many. The discontinuity between cause and caused, however, must be sustained by a causal continuity. In reality an OVM Form has already stated this causal continuity. The problem is that the continuity is greatly overshadowed by the discontinuity because Plato has committed to the Parmenidean suggestion to divide being from becoming. Consequently, what is lacking is the immanence of Forms. This absent immanence is the other side of the problem of separation generated out of the same premise of being separated from becoming. It is what the Platonic Parmenides attacks. Third, the separation of Forms from sensibles is the by-product of the double-world view of Being/Becoming. This worldview is originally Parmenides’ vision that Plato inherits and never abandons. Is Plato’s two worlds theory identical to Parmenides’? The answer is a double standard. In Plato’s theory of ethical Forms the division is not as great as in his theory of mathematical Forms. But he never sorted out the ambiguity of why he affirms two versions of Forms: transcendent mathematical Forms and relatively immanent ethical Forms. The doctrine of souls affirms that humans exist in the realm of Becoming, but the rational part of soul has independent existence in the realm of Being. In the doctrine of creation,

50

textual studies

the World Soul intermediates two realms; the Soul is created as a copy of the eternal model (the system of Forms) and is the rational identity of the physical world. But here in the Parmenides, the point of dispute is shifted from ethical Forms (130c), which Plato argues in the Phaedo and Meno, to the transcendental Forms (132b–133a), which is mathematically in kind as in the Republic and Timaeus. The whole idea of intermediation is evidently absent in the Parmenides. For Parmenides, Being and Becoming derive from his famous argument that within Being there is “nothing of not-Being.” 31 To support this argument, Parmenides reasons that the human mind can only think about something, about Being, and no one can possibly think about nothing, about not-Being.32 Sensible objects in the realm of Becoming contain both coming to be and passing away; they are “mere names” without substantial and definable essence that reason could positively affirm.33 Being and Becoming are logical opposites conditioned by the ontological anthesis that within Being there is “nothing of not-Being.” There is nothing between two worlds. Plato employs this polarized theory in the Parmenides. In the passages where the young Socrates tries to salvage his theory by presenting Forms as thoughts (132b–c) and paradigms (132c–133a), Plato makes Socrates further postulate the two worlds theory. Parmenides subsequently rejects both arguments and further charges the greatest difficulty, namely, that Forms are unknowable (133a–134e). Traditionally this part of the dialogue is read as the elder Parmenides’ training of the young Socrates. But an alternative reading can be interpreted through the train of thought “against” Parmenides. The dialogue could be Plato’s way of training students in the Academy to recognize some of the problems associated with the Parmenidean antithesis of Being/not-being and the reduction of plurality to homogeneity. By making the young Socrates open-mouthed at the end of the dialogue, Plato actually takes the criticisms upon himself. He neither rejects the problem of separation (because it is the problem) nor affirms the Eleatic criticism to be true (because it is false). But the passive ending of the first part opens the door for Plato’s offensive move in the second part. If a good student could distinguish the difference between two kinds of double-world theory, he should recognize that Parmenides’ “one without many” argument, which reduces the heterogeneous world to the homogeneous One, is exactly what the doctrine of Forms rejects. The Epistemological Problem of the Separation In the Parmenides, the epistemological problem is even greater in the Parmenidean sense. If there is nothing between Being and Becoming, then



plato’s answer to the pre-socratic debate51

inevitably there will be no epistemological access between them. Parmenides argues (133a–134e): (a) If A is not related to B, B is also not related to A. (b) If Forms belong to A and human minds to B, then B has no access to A. (c) A is either self-revealing to B or unknowable to B.

The reasoning follows that Forms in the world of Being are inaccessible to humans living in the world of Becoming. Parmenides concludes: “Forms are unknowable to us” (134c). This conclusion is only valid when Being/Becoming is defined by the Parmenidean ontology. But the conclusion is false, because (a) and (b) do not produce (c). For instance, a chair is not related to a man, but a chair can still be known by the person. The unrelated identities (of a chair and a man) do not entail no relation at all between them. Parmenides’ argument rests on the nonrelational division of Being/Becoming. But there must be something fundamental between Being and Becoming. This something could be an experience, for example, a person feels the support of a chair on which he is sitting. Unfortunately, Plato rejects experience as a reliable source of knowledge but is committed to the epistemology of knowing Forms through Forms alone. Consequently the OVM causation has made experience—a connection between many and one—ontologically inferior and epistemologically unreliable. To reject Parmenidean reasoning, Plato has a separate discourse. Insofar as he is concerned, epistemology is also Pythagorean. Following the Pythagorean theology of the immortal soul, Plato in the Phaedrus (245c– d) argues that rational part of the soul has inborn intelligence to access the world of Being. In the Phaedo (72e–77d), Plato presents the theory of knowledge as recollection. Between the intelligible world of Forms and human souls, there exists a divine logos running in both directions. Thus true knowledge of Forms seems to be inborn rather acquired. These arguments would require extra space to discuss. Here the point is this: they all support the ultimate aim of knowing transcendental Forms, which is developed from the Parmenidean epistemology of “knowing being in and through being.” The puzzling question emerges: if true knowledge is of nothing but Forms, again why is it is necessary to give intermediate status to sensibles/ belief and human souls. For Plato the intermediate status does not just represent a sandwiched category between intelligible beings and unintelligible and shadowing images, but speaks for a real condition of the soul

52

textual studies

and physical objects. They are the existential ground of human reality and the epistemological point of departure to which Plato must hold on. Without these anchoring points, there will neither be the starting point of the soul’s search for rational beings nor the ascending journey to intellectual enlightenment. But with these anchoring points, human life will always be a struggle to control irrational passions and desires within human nature, and the making of the philosophical mind will always involve a painful process to remove perceptions in order to gaze at beings beyond sensibles. In the Parmenides Plato has shown nothing about how accessible this path from many to one is. Having turned the problem of unknowable Forms back to the Parmenidean tradition, the first part of the dialogue ends with a perplexing situation. Without Forms, “one will not even have anything to which to turn his mind. . . . And so he will utterly destroy the power and significance of thought and discourse” (135c). Having followed Parmenides’ tradition of being in his intellectual formation thus far, he clearly knows his predecessor and the problems. The doctrine of Forms overall is an important step in the Parmenidean tradition of being and aims to solve problems by redefining ontology through Forms.

Summary Modern Platonic scholarship has a tendency to read the Parmenides as ­Plato’s centralized discussion on the OM problem. This tendency has been rethought. The book is not “for” but “against” the Eleaticism founded by Parmenides. Under the influence of analytical philosophy, Platonic ­scholarship tends to treat the one and the many as a logical problem and pays great attention to the logical aspect of the ontological problem. Because Eleaticism had a strong influence on Plato, the book evidently shows that Plato had gone an extraordinary distance to address the logic of exclusion. However, this investigation has identified a “Marx and Hegel” relation between Plato and Parmenides. Having inherited the tradition of logic from Parmenides, in the second half of the book, Plato has demonstrated his capacity to deal with the OM problem just as well as Eleatic logicians. In the first half, many arguments did not entirely represent Plato’s view. They are reactions against the contemporary school within which he was entangled and from which he tries to break free. As the dialogues show toward the end, Plato realizes that the one and the many is unsolvable by Parmenidean logic. Similar to Ge Hong’s one and many between the ancestral Dao and the myriad things, the whole book demonstrates an ontological paradox: between one and many there is a mutual dependency. Any rejection of either unity or plurality leads to the denial of the other.

chapter 3

Ge Hong’s Preservation of the One

Having traced the development of the OM debate from the pre-Socratics to Plato, we must now come to terms with Daoist epistemology. Strictly speaking, epistemology is not the right term for Daoism because it suggests the cognitive knowing of things that are rationally worthy of belief. Unlike Plato’s abstract reasoning, Ge Hong’s notion of knowledge is empirical. It neither regards reason as having the monopoly on knowing Dao nor believes objective knowledge is superior to subjective opinion. For Ge Hong, cultivation plays the central role in the activity of preserving truth. Ge Hong uses a specific term meaning “to cultivate spirit and preserve the One,” sishen shouyi 思神守一 (IC 112).

Cultivating Life We begin the investigation by returning to the narrative on the universal Qi (6–8), which contains an evolutionary theory of one and many. “Xuan is pregnant with the primordial One, universally casts the identities of Yin and Yang, and breathes out the breath of the great beginning” (6). Here the key image is baotai yuanyi 胞胎元一, which literally means “pregnant with the original one.” The Scripture of Eternal Peace says, “Concrete things proceed from primordial Qi (wu shiyu yuanqi 物始與元氣)” (TPJ 67, 254).1 Ge Hong also says in an alchemical context, “From heaven to earth and ten thousand things between them, there is nothing that is not born out of Qi” (IC 5, 114).2 Thus the original one refers to the primordiality of the undistinguished matter out of which concrete things are created. With this reference, it is clear that Ge Hong’s One refers to a material form of life in a state of gestation within Xuan. He later explains the cosmic pregnancy in the context of internal cultivation. “What the Master Lao said about ‘Form in the midst of formlessness, Matter inside the nothingness’ really referred to the One” (IC 323).3 Compared with the Nothingness of Xuan, Qi is a Form (xiang 象) and Matter (wu 物). Just as a fetus is a new life that evolves through the process of synthesizing form and matter, Qi is the material life of the invisible 53

54

textual studies

Xuan. Just as a mother extends her life force to the fetus through the umbilical cord, Xuan extends the immanent life to the primordial Qi. The underlying issue between nothing and something is the continuation of life. In cosmic terms, the gestation of Qi bespeaks the formation of the universe within the empty space of Xuan. Contrary to the modern idea of space, which can be traced to the characterless space of pre-Socratic atomism—without any ontological significance—here the empty space is full of potency. The cosmic womb is a biological vessel similar to the alchemical vessel that creates an environment to enable and contain change. One problem, common in classical Chinese, is that the chosen phrase does not indicate a particular tense. Is the gestation a prehistoric moment or a constant process of making? Unlike modern linear thinking in the West, ancient Daoism does not hold the premise that the creation was a once-and-for-all event at the very beginning of time. The act of creation is completed so that nothing more can be added. On the contrary, Daoist creation is internally a biological transformation of life like a fetus and externally a natural process like a growing genealogical tree. The core of this change is called Indeterminate Action (wuwei 無為); the manifestation of the change is called Nature (ziran 自然). Here there is also a translation problem. Laozi originally said, “Dao does not act (wuwei 無為), but nothing is left undone” (Laozi 48).4 Ge Hong also specifically used the term wuwei eleven times in the Inner Chapters.5 In two instances, Ge Hong says, “The method of immortality requires quiet, solitude, and wuwei ” (IC 17) and “Heaven’s wuwei, therefore, is clear” (IC 138).6 Often misleadingly, wuwei is translated as nonaction, to act without acting, and doing nothing.7 These translations have failed to demonstrate the meaning of being indeterminate. Indeterminate refers to action that is open-ended and exploratory, not confined to goal-directed action. The translation also makes an important philosophical contrast. To be indeterminate is the chief virtue of the Dao. The activity of the indeterminate Dao is Indeterminate Action. Regarding the translation of wuwei two interconnected issues need to be clarified: spontaneity and humility. Laozi asks, why is the ocean the greatest? He then answers, “It is because it has the virtue of humility.” By taking the lowliest position it draws all streams of living water into it (Laozi 66). The greatest virtue of Dao rests in its indeterminateness in the likeness of soft water (Laozi 78). The ocean does not act, but the indeterminate space creates the environment from which diverse forms of life spontaneously emerge from water. Like Laozi’s ocean and water, Ge Hong’s cosmic womb is also an indeterminate environment for the gestation of life. Another key connection with Laozi is the concept of sheng. Like Laozi,



ge hong’s preservation of the one55

Ge Hong uses sheng as the verb “to give birth,” not the noun “life.” Citing the classic texts Zhou Yi and Zuozhuan, he says, “The greatest virtue in the universe is to give birth. And to give birth is to cherish things” (IC 252).8 Interestingly the original context of the verb sheng in Zhou Yi is discussed in the context of universal change (bian 變). “Because Yang and Yin are pushing each other, change emerges from their midst. . . . To give birth means to be active.” 9 The reference indicates something crucial in Ge Hong’s reference to cosmic pregnancy that has not been mentioned. To give birth is closely associated with the concept of change, and change in Zhou Yi is not just a universal phenomenon, but also a permanent reality. Therefore the permanent reality—Dao, which consists of the relational ontology of Xuan and Qi—is expressed in the cosmogonical context with the motif of the cosmic pregnancy. Unlike Parmenides’ unchanged One, Ge Hong’s cosmogonical one is ontologically a changing one. Unlike Zeno’s logic exclusion of like and unlike, Xuan and Qi are relational, and their relationship is defined as life. From here onwards, we should use Ge Hong’s own concept Xuan Dao to express this relational ontology and give the abbreviation of Dao to this self-generating first cause. Since change is the perpetual principle of Nature, this self-generating Dao transcends time rather remaining a prehistoric moment at the beginning of time. Since change is expressed through the central theme “to give birth to life,” the change that manifests through the act of giving birth must happen in every moment of time.10 Therefore, the underlying reality of the world of changing phenomena is not a fixed logos, but a changing Dao. The interactive Xuan-Qi together form the concept Dao, or the most fundamental reality of all things. Out of the water in the womb, out of the environment of letting life freely develop, the first material life (Qi) took potency from the mother and began to evolve into more and more complex life with plural parts. Creation was not the result of one single determinative act, like building a chair according to a design, but a sequence of biological diversification. Out of this cosmic womb, Yin and Yang came to being. The world was breathed into life. And billions of substances took form within the organic life of the cosmos. The process is called ziran, being itself and following one’s own accord. Is Daoist creation comparable with the Judeo-Christian “seven days” creation? The simple answer is no, if it is presented as a dialogue with Platonism. For Daoism, the diversification process is an “internal” gestation process within the creator. In Genesis, the “seven days” of divine creation are expressed as an “external” work of God. More complex answers relate to the coinciding issues of what the creator is and what the creator does.

56

textual studies

These issues in Christian theology are called the being and works of God. To borrow the concepts, the works of Dao center on Indeterminate Action. Out of the indeterminate Dao, the creation unfolds in sequence: first, the primordial Qi; second, the two energies of Yin and Yang; third, the embodiment of life as Qi breathed into Nature; fourth, the actuality of substances taking concrete physical forms. For Ge Hong, this sequential evolution of life does not only take place inside the cosmic womb—Xuan—but the creator like a mother also converts nothing into something. The change from nothing into being is intrinsically an internal conversion. The creator internally changes timelessly, more like Heraclitus’ perpetual change than the Platonic unchangeable Demiurge, which has an unshakable impact on the interpretation of the Creator in Genesis. Contrary to the determinate God, Dao is indeterminate. Laozi’s mother Dao is the self-humbling “ocean” that withdraws its power by harboring life inside its infinite space. Ge Hong’s pre-cosmos is spontaneous change inside of the infinite darkness of Xuan. After this brief comparison, it is necessary to deny any sweeping claim that Dao and God are interchangeable. Religious pluralism cannot give way to the idealism of one supreme deity over all religions. James R. Ware in his translation of the Inner Chapters has persistently translated Xuan Dao as God. 11 Ware failed to recognize the complex nature of intercultural dialogue. Just to mention a few important distinctions, God is personal, whereas Dao is impersonal. God is identified and worshiped by the chosen people. Dao is nameless. Even Laozi humbly acknowledges that who and what Dao is, he does not really know. To make this distinction does not mean the God-Dao comparison is inconceivable. For example, what Christian negative theology says about God is similar to Ge Hong’s reverse thinking from something to nothing. Yet unless this comparative ground is thoroughly discussed, Ware’s sweeping claim is troubling. It is true that the creation ex nihilo is what Judeo-Christian theogony and Daoist cosmogony share. The modern commentator Chen Feilong 陳飛龍 has interpreted Ge Hong’s opening chapter as creationism.12 But creationism as expressed in Genesis operates in a linear teleological framework, whereas Daoist creation is a cyclical and ongoing process. Unlike medieval theology, represented by Aquinas, the Hegelian Christian theology of the modern age tends to view creationism teleologically. Creation, Incarnation, and Consummation are three paradigms of history. History is a determinative course or salvation history to the climax when God becomes the All and in all. The teleological end was already built in at the beginning of time, namely, the will of God. The divine will becomes the very purpose for the creation in history. And the purpose is yet to be



ge hong’s preservation of the one57

fulfilled at the end of history. Contrary to this concept of God, Dao neither performed a once-and-for-all single creation nor possesses a built in telos for eschatological fulfillment. The making of the world is understood as a never-ceasing process because the creativity of Dao is always in the making. The distinction between intelligent design and evolutionary change cannot be collapsed.

Qi and Empiricism Based on the relational ontology of Xuan and Qi, Ge Hong argues that knowledge is empirical. To engage the knowledge path also means to understand what life is for the individual or universally what Qi is. “Humans exist within the [universal] Qi, Qi dwells within the human body. From the heavens and earth to the myriad things, there is nothing that does not require Qi to be born” (IC 114).13 Unlike Plato’s distinction of transcendental Forms and material objects, Ge Hong’s creative Qi is immanent within the world. “Heaven attaining the One becomes clear, the earth attaining the One remains peaceful, humans attaining the One gain life, and gods attaining the One become efficacious” (IC 323).14 The concept of the One is not only concealed in the cosmogonical beginning, but also runs the continual course that sustains it in each of the creatures. Xuan Dao ⇔ the One (Qi) ⇔ the immanent Qi in the myriad things

Is the One material or immaterial? Ge Hong says in the alchemic chapter: “Clouds, rain, frost, and snow are forms of heavenly Qi. . . . As to the [changes] of high mountains becoming low pools and of deep vales becoming hills, they are also the changing [phenomena] of the great matter” (IC 284). Contrary to the Pythagorean concept of the soul, Qi is a cosmogonical component rather than a pneumatic force apart from matter. Compared with pre-Socratic material monism (water or air), Qi is more than the primal matter. It is a combination of both matter and life. It is a unique materialism. Prior to Ge Hong, Wang Chong 王充 (AD 27–97) in the Han period put forward a materialist account of Qi in his book Arguments Weighing in the Balance (Lun heng 論衡). “The birth of ten thousand things comes from the original Qi” (LH 23, 949). “When heaven and the earth embrace Qi, ten thousand things are born spontaneously. This is like when husband and wife unite [their] Qi, a child is born spontaneously” (LH 18, 775).15 Wang Chong argued that the world had a universal and material foundation. Primal matter was innately changeable, and by self-changing it became many and transformed into diverse substances. The same mate-

58

textual studies

rialism was argued by two earlier texts. In the Scripture on Eternal Peace, as mentioned earlier, Qi was defined as the irreducible substance of the material world. In the Master of Huainan (Huainanzi 淮南子), written by various sages under the aegis of Liu An (180–123 BC), “the cause of all material things dwells within ten thousand things” (HNZ 14, 734).16 Although Qi was prior to material existences, it was still immanent within the world by transforming itself from one to the many. The remarkable aspect of Wang Chong’s materialism, which evidently influenced Ge Hong, was the corresponding empiricism. “Many [speculative] thinkers have turned away from reality without seeking effective tests [for their theories]. Though they have fine and elaborate theories, people still do not believe them. . . . Thoughts must be verified against what things demonstrably do” (LH 26, 1086).17 Wang Chong’s empiricism gave priority to reality over theory and argued reality as the criterion of truth. In the Outer Chapters, Ge Hong spoke highly of Wang Chong and praised him as “the pioneering thinker” at the time when Han scholasticism was immersed in bottomless speculation. From the end of Han, “none can match Wang Chong’s brilliance” (OC 43, 423).18 In Ge Hong’s cultivation and instrumental alchemy, he also maintained the principle that “from small experiments, one is able to know great truth” (IC 140).19 Ge Hong’s theory of knowledge is both for and against Wang Chong. He accepts Qi is material and empirical but rejects the antireligious sentiment of Wang Chong’s materialism. Ge Hong’s religious philosophy rests upon the doctrine of soteriology. “For those who hope to attain longevity, the preservation of the One is to be taken as a clear [priority]” (IC 323).20 Human life is not inevitably a degenerative process of aging, but ought to be able to attain the longevity in the likeness of eternal Qi. The general method is called the Preservation of the One (shouyi 守 一). Against the background of “from the one to the many,” Ge Hong argues reverse thinking once more. Comparable with the continuation of life between ancestor and progeny, this continuity of life beyond the discontinuity between the creator and the created allows humans to seek paths back to the point of cosmic origin and to participate in the creative core of the cosmos. “Obtain it on the inside, and preserve it on the outside. Whoever uses it becomes an immortal; whoever forgets it becomes a vessel” (IC 2).21 Xuan Dao can be inwardly discerned to enrich life from within. And the preserved creativity can be manifested externally. Whoever participates in the One becomes divine, and whoever neglects it will become a mere vessel. As Ge Hong scholar Hu Fuchen rightly points out, Ge Hong reinvented Qi as “an empirical philosophy based on the cultivation of the Dao.” 22



ge hong’s preservation of the one59

Soteriology Ge Hong has two empirical methods: internal cultivation and instrumental alchemy, or inner and outer alchemy.23 For the current purpose, it is necessary only to focus on the former; the latter can be left for the discussion of Ge Hong’s natural philosophy. In the eighteenth chapter, titled “Earthly Truth” (dizhen 地真), two distinctive methods are mentioned: “Preserving the Xuan-One” (shou xuanyi 守玄一) and “Preserving the Real-One” (shou zhenyi 守真一). The method of Xuan-One is also an important practice. The method has no unavoidable improbity that is impossible to overcome, [thus it] achieves the same effects as [the practice of] the Real-One. The first chapter of my Inner Chapters named “Rhapsody of Xuan” [changxuan 暢玄] is aimed exactly at this point. To preserve the Xuan-One is easier than [preserving] the Real-One. The Real-One possesses names [xingzi 姓字], [with characters of] tall or short [changduan 長短] and [is dressed in] colorful raiments [fuse 服色]. But the Xuan-One is about Self-Seeing [zijian 自見]. An adept practices it in the middle of the day, therefore [the practice] is called “knowing the white but preserving the black” [zhibai shouhei 知白守黑]. Even if the adept wants to die, he will not able to. The adept must first follow the purification ritual for a hundred days, and then he may engage in the practice. It should not take more than three or four days to encounter the One. Once it is encountered, take it and keep it [dezhi shouzhi 得之守之]. In this way it should not depart from the person. Preserving the Real-One, [spontaneously] discerning his body [siqishen 思其身], he should be split into three persons [fenwei sanren 分為三人]. Once the three persons have been realized, [the realization] further enhances the One. Eventually over ten physical beings of the adept will appear, all in the likeness of the original one. To make [the multiple appearances] disappear and appear, one has separate oral instructions [koujue 口訣]. Overall this is “the Dao of Dividing Forms” [fenxing zhidao 分形之道]. (IC 325)

In interpreting such a text one faces three hermeneutical problems. First, oral instructions (koujue 口訣) are never written down. They are the sacred orally transmitted teachings to be used together with the text. As Ge Hong indicates, oral instructions can only be transmitted from a master to a chosen pupil under the strict oath to protect the lineage (IC 324). Second, texts on cultivation and instrumental alchemy are written in metaphors and fables. They are not to be taken at face value; thus interpreta-

60

textual studies

tion requires careful reconstruction. Until the language has been demythologized, it is very difficult to grasp what the instructions are. Third, Daoist cultivation methods are not descriptive, but rather invitational. Unless a reader is willing to be drawn into the text, it is impossible to gain an understanding of the process they refer to. The F ANGSHU Tradition In the above passage, the Preservation of the Xuan-One is called “the Dao of Dividing Forms” (fenxing zhidao 分形之道). The images below illustrate a female adept practicing the method in stages (Figure 3.1) and describe how inner cultivation will lead to external manifestations of the same person at different places. Historically the method belonged to the tradition called fangshu 方術. Before Ge Hong, fangshu was regarded as arts that produced mystic abilities to communicate with cosmic powers, to control demons, and to heal the sick. Some Daoist adepts, including Ge Hong’s granduncle Ge Xuan 葛玄 (164–244), who was a member of the alchemical school of Zuo Ci 左慈 (155–220), saw themselves as fangshi 方士. The term fangshi literally means “scholars of methods,” but it is often translated as “magicians” 24 and fangshu as “esoterica.” 25 Historically fangshi were not wandering magicians but were more like the prophets of Judaism, who often appeared in the imperial court. Zuo Ci was a leading figure in the group around Cao Cao 曹操 in the Three Kingdoms period. The early commentator on the Laozi Heshang Gong 河上公 was among the Han dynasty fangshi who introduced a medical theory of the human body to the philosophical text.26 The famous medical doctor Hua Tuo 華佗 was also a fangshi.27 Many fangshi were both alchemists and medical practitioners. Apart from his alchemical activities, Ge Hong practiced herbal medicine and wrote two influential texts. Yuhan fang 玉函方 (100 fascicles) recorded and categorized by name the diseases that had been identified up to his time, and provided corresponding prescriptions for each illness (IC 272). The handbook was one of the most important diagnostic tools for following generations of doctors.28 In modern medical study, the book still provides valuable information on rare diseases. A more concise medical text, Zhouhou jiuzu fang 肘後救卒方 (3 fascicles), was written for ordinary family use (IC 272). Recently three out of five prescriptions recommended by the Chinese Health Organization to combat the disease SARS came from this text.29 Overall medicine, called the art of healing (yishu 醫術) by Ge Hong (IC 271), had an inseparable relation with the empirical studies done by fangshi. They developed the Chinese medical tradition, including herbal medicine for treating diseases, methods for the prolongation of life, and



ge hong’s preservation of the one61

Fig. 3.1.  A female adept practicing the “Dao of Dividing Forms.” Illustrations from “The Journey of the Goddess of Mount Tai on Her Way to Immortality” in Portraits of Immortals. (Reproduced by permission of the Chinese Daoist Association from Zhongguo Daojiao Xiehui, ed., Daojiao shenxian huaji, Collectors’ ­edition [Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe, 1995], 115)

also arts for exorcism. Modern Daoists still recite the principle “without shu Dao is not agile” (dao wu shu bu ling 道無術不靈). Daoist shu does not refer narrowly to magical prescriptions, but designates empirical methods to put the Dao into praxis. Contrary to the main tendency of Confucian intellectualism and moral philosophy, it rep-

62

textual studies

resents the convergence of esoteric empiricism and medical philosophy. Ge Hong’s attitude toward this fangshu tradition was ambivalent. His Inner Chapters collected many passages on the mystical arts of longevity, but he was also critical of some cult practices, deriding them as necromancy, and he tried to eliminate the more drastic practices (IC 172). Yet he preserved a folk belief in the existence of immortals filtered through soteriology. Daoist praxis, as Ge Hong puts it, has two aims: it aims primarily “to prolong life” and secondarily “to provide relief from disasters and heal the sick” (IC 173). Fangshu for preserving life and necromancy for harming life thus had to be distinguished from soteriology. The Soteriological Principle of Return The central belief of Daoist soteriology is the return to “the base of the cosmic beginning” (taichu zhiben 太初之本) (IC 170), so that the adept can become a manifestation of the Dao by personifying its creative potency. The principle of return is summarized in the phrase “knowing the white but preserving the black” in the passage quoted above. The symbolic language of white and black is traditionally understood in astronomical context. Black and Xuan share the meaning of infinite space, whereas white is like a lodestar in the night sky. In another passage it is said, “The One [Qi] can be found in the lodestar” (IC 324). As we have seen earlier, Xuan and Qi are a relational reality of Dao. Here, by employing the words for contrasting coloration, Ge Hong vividly but also secretly reveals the principle of knowing Qi (white) and preserving Xuan (black). Instead of following the cosmic awakening from Xuan to the One, bodily cultivation goes in the opposite direction, from white to black. Then the black may be transformed into the white again with renewed access to primordial creative power. Ge Hong’s instructions in the text explain the principle of return further: “The first of my Inner Chapters named ‘Rhapsody on Xuan’ (Chang­ xuan 暢玄) has this precise purpose.” He continues: “The immortal adept travels through the zenith and enters into the nadir. . . . He moves freely in the realm of the undistinguishable and above the sphere of similarity. He gulps down beauty at the edge of the clouds and breathes the breaths of the cosmos in the rosy clouds. He walks through the land of no form and no trace, and flies across the boundary of the perceivable and the unseeable. . . . This is the sage who has preserved the Xuan-One” (IC 2).30 This passage claims that the method of returning to the universal origin produces the effect of cosmic wandering. The motif of wandering in this passage and the “Dao of Dividing Forms” in the previous passage have the similarity of leaving the limited self and entering into the cosmic



ge hong’s preservation of the one63

breadth. What does this wandering really signify? Compare this passage with another passage from the Zhuangzi. When three days passed, he was able to put the world outside himself [wai tianxia 外天下]. After leaving the world, he went on with the preservation. When seven days passed, he could move beyond forms [waiwu 外物]. After leaving forms, he again went on with the preservation. When nine days passed, he could move beyond his life [waisheng 外 生]. After leaving life behind, his mind became pure and fresh as dawn [zhaoche 朝徹]. With this mind he could see what stands alone [jiandu 見獨]. After he had seen the singularity face to face, he was able to obscure the distinction of the past and the present [wu gujin 無古今]. After he had done so, he could go beyond the distinction between life and death. Dao begets life and receives life, but it was never born and it will never die. Something exists as the matter in everything. There is nothing it does not send off and nothing it does not welcome; there is nothing it does not destroy and nothing it does not complete. The name of something is called tumultuous tranquillity [yingning 攖寧]. Whoever attains [this paradoxical state of] tumultuous tranquillity is disturbed [by the Dao] then accomplishes [it]. (Zhuangzi 6)

This passage represents Zhuangzi’s epistemology: true knowledge is really about undoing the perversions of learning. To acquire formlessness, the adept must let go of the habit of seeking endless distinctions, choosing instead the path with the five steps of wei (to go or move beyond) as the means to be drawn into the Dao. The adept first lets go of the concept of the myriad things by standing outside the world. He then lets go of any forms by standing outside of matter. Having moved beyond the distinction of life and death, his sleeping mind awakens to the clarity, as if sight is able to see things in the dawn. At that point, he begins to see the oneness of the world. Enlightened by the One, he is freed from the matrix of time and space, which divides the ancient from the present. Having been freed from the plurality marked by form and matter, life and death, and time and space, the adept realizes for the first time the truth of the Dao. The formless Dao does not rule, but nothing is unaccomplished. It empties itself, but nothing has not been drawn into it. It is not diminished, but no diminished thing is not returned to it. It does not seek success, but nothing does not succeed through it. What stands alone in the formless Dao is primordial matter. It rests inside the formlessness in the state of tumultuous tranquillity. Whoever attains this paradoxical state of being will share the same state of Qi with the Dao. Being disturbed but in the

64

textual studies

deepest tranquillity, the adept will always be ready to change but will rest forever in peace. By succeeding in this paradoxical state, enlightenment is attained. Zhuangzi calls the enlightened man a “realized man” (zhenren 真人). In Ge Hong’s passage, the end of preservation is called “True Knowledge of Sufficiency” (zhenzhizu 真知足). Through the wandering of drifting into the cosmos, the adept has achieved the state of potency in the likeness of Qi and rests his being inside Xuan like a fetus. Yet he becomes a free being “without desire, without change,” who “tastes the purest and preserves the simplest” and “drifts spontaneously and mingles with [Xuan] and seeks equality to its Nature” (IC 3).31 Preserving the XuanOne, although it appears as a spiritual exercise call “Self-Seeing” (zijian 自 見), essentially is not about the self, but about the other. The adept views the totality of his personhood within the context of the cosmos by dissolving his body into the body of the universe. Once his being is a part of the world, he will see himself for the first time as a free being. He wanders through the zenith and enters into nadir, moves freely in the realm of formlessness, and travels above the sphere of singularity. He gulps down beauty and breathes the breaths of the cosmos, just as the fetus of Qi evolves from the womb of the cosmos. Finally he wonders about his capacity to walk through the land of no form and no trace, and to fly across the boundary of the perceivable and the unseeable. Dao manifests life in three primary categories of existence. “Dao gives rise to Qi, and Qi is transformed into the Forms of heaven, earth, and humanity, so the three are one” (IC 323).32 In the likeness of cosmic creativity, the adept also becomes creative and expresses his creativity by showing his personhood in three different places at the same time. This anthropomorphic feature is repeatedly seen in Ge Hong’s writing. Here the enlightened adept is the personified Dao, whose multiple appearances are anthropomorphic expressions of Dao’s creativity. Three different appearances collectively give expression to his inner being. Looking inwardly, the art of revealing the self is no longer a magic play, but an enlightened state of personhood, through which the invisible creativity of the One becomes visibly apprehensible to humans. And the One is the self-generating continuity between its oneness and the plurality of the myriad things.

The Alchemical Body and the Changing Universe Is the Xuan-One a mental state of enlightenment or an empirical reality of life? Without knowing the second method, “Preserving the Real-One”



ge hong’s preservation of the one65

(shou zhenyi 守真一), the question cannot be answered. Ge Hong’s writing on “Preserving the Real-One” illustrates the physiological environment of the body with terminology traditionally used for astronomy. I have heard from my master: the One can be found in the Northern Pole [beiji 北極] and the great pool [taiyuan 太淵] [the upper and lower cinnabar fields]. Before it there is the bright hall [mingtang 明堂] [between eyebrows one cun 寸 deep], behind it is the crimson palace [jianggong 絳宮: heart]. Nearby there stands the flowery canopy [huagai 華蓋: lungs], and the golden tower [jinlou 金樓] with a chamber inside [the throat]. On the left and the right are the hanging lodestars [gangkui 罡魁: left and right kidneys]. Around it there are also rushing waves [jibo 激波: urinary system] reaching the sky. Dark fungus [xuanzhi 玄芝: blood vessels in the thorax] cover the cliff, exuberant red grass [zhucao 朱草] surrounds the area [blood vessels in the thorax], white jade [baiyu 白玉] [the teeth] towers up, and the sun and the moon [riyue 日月: eyes] shine from above. Having experienced the fire [huo 火: primordial Qi] and crossed the waters [shui 水: Qi in the kidneys], experienced the mysterious Xuan 玄 [alchemical body], and traveled through the yellow earth [huang 黃: physical body], you shall arrive at the interleaving walls and palaces [chengque 城 闕: abdominal cavity and thorax] of the city. You shall see beautiful tents and curtains [weizhang 帷帳: forms of internal organs] all in close sight. Dragons and tigers [longhu 龍虎: Yin-Yang energies] are the guards; divine persons [shenren 神人: internal gods] stand on two sides. Neither action nor effort is required, the One is always in harmony with the surroundings; neither too fast nor too slow, the One gently occupies the room. Be peaceful and cheerful, the One will not leave. Preserving the One [yi 一] and discerning the Real [zhen 真], you should communicate with the divine. Control your desires and moderate your diet, then the One will stay. Even with a sword at your neck, discerning the One you should live. To know the One is not difficult, the difficulty is being persistent. Preserving but not losing it, you will experience the unlimited abundance of the One. It keeps you safe from wild beasts on the ground and dragons in the water, and keeps you away from poisonous insects or snakes. Ghosts will not come near you, and weapons will not harm you. This is the brief description of the Real-One (IC 324–325).

From the perspective of Daoist internal alchemy (neidan 內丹), the text is clearly an instruction for the inward journey to encounter the inborn Qi.

66

textual studies

Qi is identified as a flow of energy that spontaneously moves between three cinnabar fields (dantian 丹田) within the bodily environment. The text further explains that in the likeness of an immortal being, the One dwells in harmony with the guarding dragons and tigers, which correspond with the Yin-Yang energies to sustain bodily vigor and strength. Following the breath pattern, the internal organs can be manipulated to become channels to allow Qi to travel. Finally the One will occupy its place near the lower elixir field close to the navel. As soon as the One flows into the place created by cultivation, the adept preserves the inborn Qi. Thus he discovers the flow of energy from the external world to the internal body. The text says, “Preserving but not losing it, you will experience the unlimited abundance of the One.” Having sensed the general purpose of the text, it is necessary to identify the terminology used in the passage. Table 3.1 collects the terminology from the text and provides many designations of the body in the language of bodily alchemy as well as their equivalents in modern biology. Based on my review of Gu Jiu’s text notes,33 it further provides references to indicate their textual origins. The table indicates that Ge Hong’s terminology has a remarkable resemblance to that in the Scripture of the Yellow Chamber (Huangting jing 黃庭經).34 Ge Hong mentions that this text circulated

Table 3.1.  Terminology of Inner Alchemy Inner Alchemy Term

Chinese Term

Physical Documen- Location Translation tation

Daozang Reference

Northern 北極 (璿璣) 上丹田 Upper Pole Cinnabar Field

外景經下

Vol. 5, 914

Great pool 太淵 下單田

外景經下

Vol. 5, 914

Lower Cin- nabar Field

Bright hall 明堂 兩眉之間 Between eye- 上一寸， brows up one 入一寸 cun then one cun deep

內景經, Vol. 5, 910 靈台章第十七 Vol. 5, 910 內景經, 脾長章第十五

Crimson 絳宮 心臟 Heart 內景經, palace 黃庭章第四

Vol. 5, 909

Flowery 華蓋 肺 Lungs 內景經, canopy 天中章第九

Vol. 5, 909

Table 3.1.  Terminology of Inner Alchemy (continued) Inner Alchemy Term

Chinese Term

Physical Documen- Location Translation tation

Daozang Reference

Golden 金樓 (樓閣) 喉嚨 Throat 內景經, Vol. 5, 910 tower 若得章第十九 Lodestars 罡魁 左右腎 Rushing waves

激波

Left and right kidneys

泌尿系統？ Urinary system

Dark 玄芝 (靈芝) 胸腔血管？ Blood vessels 外景經下 fungus in the thorax

Vol. 5, 914

Red grass 朱草 (生草) 胸腔血管？ Abdominal vessels

Vol. 5, 914

外景經下

White jade 白玉 (白石) 牙齒 Teeth 內景經, Vol. 5, 910 呼吸章第二十 The sun and 日月 雙眼 Eyes the moon

內景經, 上有章第二

Vol. 5, 908

Fire 火 元神 Primordial spirit

內景經, 仙人章第二 十八

Vol. 5, 911

Water 水 腎氣

內景經, Vol. 5, 909 腎部章第十二

Qi of the kidneys

The Dark 玄 中玄老君: The middle 中丹田 Cinnabar Field

內景經, Vol. 5, 910 脾長章第十五

Yellow 黃 (抱黃) 下黃老君: The lower 內景經, earth 下丹田 Cinnabar 上有章第二 Field

Vol. 5, 908

Walls 城 (赤城) 腹腔 Abdominal cavity

外景經上

Vol. 5, 913

Palaces

外景經上

Vol. 5, 913

闕

胸腔

Thorax

Tents and 帷帳 (帷幕) 內臟 Internal 內景經, curtains organs 治生章第二 十三 Dragons 龍虎 神氣 Qi of vigor and tigers

Vol. 5, 910

內景經, Vol. 5, 910 脾長章第十五

Divine 神人 存神術 Preserving 內景經, Vol. 5, 910 persons vigor 靈台章第十七

68

textual studies

­ uring the Western Jin period in his bibliographical chapter (IC 334); this d may not be identical to the text that has come down to us. In this passage Ge Hong directly adopts the idea of the correspondence between the inner and outer environments (neiwai jing tongyi 內外景統一) in the Huangting jing. More particularly, he illustrates the benefits of cultivation in the form of an outward journey from the body into the celestial world. With reference to this text, two ontological arguments that evolved around the inner and outer correspondence require detailed investigation. The Inner and Outer Correspondence An effort to close the gap between the microcosm and the macrocosm is the central idea of the cultivation practice Preserving the Xuan-One. The correspondence of the two environments is expressed directly by labeling the physiological body with astronomical terms. As Table 3.1 shows, almost every term carries a double denotation, referring to both environments. For example, the navigational lodestar, which defines the astronomical axis of the sky, corresponds to the upper cinnabar field in the center of the head that runs a vertical line through the body. Adopting terms from the Scripture of the Yellow Chamber, Ge Hong not only develops the cultivation from terminology used in the early tradition, but also places the body in the astronomical context. Thus he posits the same synthesis of inner and outer environments. What connects the two is the reality of Qi that runs the bidirectional course from the many to the One (from the micro to the macro) and then from the One back to the many (from the macro to the micro). The passage reveals some attributes about the Real-One. Portrayed in anthropomorphic fashion, it is a lord surrounded by a community of natural gods. Yet the celestial One is capable of wandering through the environment of the body. By applying the terminologies used for celestial phenomena, Ge Hong depicts the body as a heavenly city.35 As the table shows, each term uses a celestial name to designate a particular part of the body, such as an organ, a system, or an internal god. The city also implies the body is intrinsically similar to the celestial community with indwelling gods. This is one of the most productive ideas in Daoism, which is contrary to the Buddhist view of the body as prison. Compared with the Platonic soul, which is capable of transmigration to the world beyond, Ge Hong argues exactly the opposite. Instead of having the essence of life leave the body behind in searching for transcendence, Ge Hong brings the cosmos into the body. Hence the body is neither defined in physiological terms nor viewed as an irrational corpse ruled by a rational mind. It is defined as



ge hong’s preservation of the one69

the microcosm in the likeness of the cosmos and as a community of living organisms in the likeness of natural gods in the harmonious world. The hidden argument that human nature and the Nature of the world are akin rests on the philosophical view of the body-spirit relation. As opposed to the Platonic soul/body duality, Ge Hong argues the mutuality of the two. Just like the relational ontology of Xuan and Qi, the enlightened state is described by the exactly the same words Xuan-One. In another passage, Ge Hong puts this relation vividly using the metaphor of a candle and a flame: “The body and the vigor can be seen clearly in the example of a candle. Once the candle is burnt out, the flame will be exhausted too. When the body is fatigued, the spirit will be dispersed; when Qi is exhausted, life will come to an end” (IC 110).36 There is no subordination between the candle and the flame, but mutuality. The body is the vessel of the spirit, and the spirit shines through the body. This mutuality is ontologically rooted in the cosmogony. “Because the something is born out of nothing, material form needs the spirit to construct its appearance. That which exists is the palace of Nothingness, whereas that which has form is the dwelling place of the spirit” (IC 110).37 Just as the motherly womb of Xuan and the fetus Qi have no separate identities, relational ontology defines that nothing and something, and body and spirit are two sides of the same reality. The unity of body and spirit produces life—the inner life that shares the same substance of Qi. In Chinese the same word Qi is used for both environments, the bodily and the celestial. As Hu Fuchen rightly points out, this understanding of life is unique to Daoism.38 Ge Hong does not only argue for a body-spirit synthesis (contrary to the Platonic and Buddhist dualism), but also defines human existence in a triple structure. The body (xing 形), Qi (氣), and spirit (shen 神) form the relational whole. Here Ge Hong argues for the triple structure that is explicitly mentioned in the Master of Huainan. “The body is what houses life, Qi is what fills life, and spirit is what rules life” (HNZ 1, 39).39 Ge Hong’s class of immortal beings have all three elements, whereas ordinary humans fail to bring the physical and celestial environment into a unity through Qi. The text does not give a precise location for the Real-One, but only suggests somewhere between the upper and the lower cinnabar fields. Why does the One have no spatial location? The cosmic Qi offers a hint. It is because Qi is what connects celestial bodies into a harmonious whole, just as blood flows into various parts of the human body. In the text, Qi is selfmanifesting through its relation with its surroundings. So the Real-One in the bodily environment is not an “enthroned” deity, but rather a flowing energy with mobility. Its chief attribute is to harmonize and be in harmony

70

textual studies

with its surroundings. The One works as a web of organic life that makes various parts intact. Just like astronomical harmony, which comes into existence spontaneously, bodily harmony is also a natural quality evolved out of the conception brought by the energies of motherly Yin and fatherly Yang. Just as the essence of celestial phenomena sinks deep into the endless dark sky, bodily phenomena also drift around the scene of the heavenly city. But the continuity between the two is the same harmonious One that wanders freely between heaven and human bodies. The Alchemical Body The text takes the form of an outward journey, but cultivation is an inward journey. As Ge Hong wanders through the city, we are virtually led on a tour on which we are invited to unconsciously but happily wonder at the enormous spaces of the inner body. But the journey led by spontaneity is not totally unstructured. The text shows a clear structure with three steps. The text indicates that the movement begins at the upper cinnabar field in the ventricle chamber. It is one cun (an ancient measurement, approximating one inch) deep from the middle of the eyebrows. From this upper court, the journey then proceeds downwards through the throat to the heart. It further wanders between the lungs and encounters the chamber of fire (huo 火) and then the breath of air (qi 氣) that exchanges life with the external environment. The middle cinnabar field is located in this middle court of the thorax. Bodily elixirs are in the making in this court of fire, constantly energized by air. Further downwards, the journey arrives at the ventral court where the lower cinnabar field is located. The left and right kidneys are the central organs for the circulation of water (shui 水). The urinary system turns external water internally and discharges bodily water to the external environment. Between the kidneys and behind the navel is the lower cinnabar field. The field provides a womb for the One to rest in and evolve inside of water. These three courts can be seen clearly in an illustration belonging to a later age (Figure 3.2). Having described the three courts, the text turns to a discourse on exchange. It mentions teeth and eyes. Teeth symbolize the door to the external world for food intake. Eyes are the windows to communicate with the world and natural gods (shen 神). And then suddenly the text changes direction, again mentioning fire and water. The text also mentions the words “Xuan” 玄 and “yellow” (huang 黃) to symbolize the image of the cosmic egg with darkness outside and a yellow “yolk” inside. Xuan and huang originally refer to dark heaven and yellow earth respectively. In cultivation, here Xuan can be seen as the self-

Fig. 3.2.  The Inner Environment of the Daoist body as illustrated in the Huangdi bashiyi nanjing cuantu jujie 黃帝八十一難經篡圖 句解 (possibly of the Song period). (Reprinted from Daozang 21, 595)

72

textual studies

emptied body, comparable to the spatial heaven. The yellow “yolk” has the same shape as a bean-size elixir. The bodily elixir does not refer to the three elixir fields mentioned in the text but to the fetus as new life. This is because the enlightened body becomes a hypostasis of the Dao—dan. This bodily dan is contained within the bodily vessel, just as heaven contains the earth in the cosmic egg. Thus the shift from the word huang to the idea of the bodily dan is unnoticeable. However, the transformation underlying the free exchange between the micro body and the macrocosm constitutes bodily enlightenment. These two symbolic words are even better pictured (see Figure 3.3) in internal alchemy texts belonging to later periods. The word “Xuan” is directly pictured as an emptied body. The word dan is in the likeness of the alchemical fetus.

Fig. 3.3.  Xuan 玄 and dan 丹: two imitative characters, Xuan in the shape of a crucible (left), dan in the form of a person (right) as illustrated in the Huanzhen ji 還真集 (Reprinted from Daozang 24, 98)



ge hong’s preservation of the one73

Here the text describes the internal environment in the likeness of an alchemical chamber energized by bodily fire. The fire is constantly kindled by blood vessels in the abdominal cavity upward to the thorax. But the language still remains in the celestial context. Hence the transition from inward to outward journey is completed in a way that is hardly noticeable in the text. For the adept who practices cultivation, the smooth transition plays the crucial role. It requires immense concentration to move naturally, even without noticing any transition, from the rhythm of breath to the exchange of vigor between two environments. The key to the smooth transition is concealed in the perspective of the body. The body is neither physiological nor celestial but alchemical. Ge Hong indicates earlier that “to attain the absolute real by emptying one’s body . . . is the way to be mingled with Nature” (IC 3). Unless the body is turned into an emptied alchemical vessel, unless the vessel creates an environment for the gestation of life, the fetus of Qi will not come to life. The last part of the text turns the reader’s attention to the community of natural gods. The dragon (long 龍) and the tiger (hu 虎), which symbolize Yin-Yang energies, are the guards. Natural gods (shenren 神人) in the celestial world (including the gods of the sun, the moon, and the five planets) stand in a circle. At the center of the divine community is the One, which is depicted also as a superior god. Ge Hong says in another passage, “The Real-One possesses names [xingzi 姓字], [with characters of] tall or short [changduan 長短] and [is dressed in] colorful raiments [fuse 服色]” (IC 325). Although Ge Hong uses anthropomorphic language to describe the One, the lordship of the One over the natural gods is consistent with his cosmogonical scheme. From the One comes YinYang energies, and natural gods come to exist together with the celestial bodies. But for the adept to join the divine community, Ge Hong says, “Neither action nor effort is required, the One is always in harmony with the surroundings; neither too fast nor too slow, the One gently occupies the room.”

The Principle of Spontaneity To attain the One requires no artificial effort; it only requires the principal indeterminate action (wuwei 無為). Note that spontaneity is the central quality of the Real-One. To join the divine community is not to elevate one’s social and moral status. Rather, the adept needs to free himself from desires, self-imprisonment, and bodily environment. So the body becomes an uncontaminated vessel and assumes a lowly position. It is ready to receive the influx of life from the external environment. Having preserved

74

textual studies

the One, the adept is also infused into the world and among the natural gods through the fusion between the One and the many. The only way to preserve the One beyond the initial point of realization, as Ge Hong points out, is to be “peaceful and cheerful” so the vigor of the One can shine through bodily happiness. The above three discourses can be summarized with three characters used by Ge Hong: Real (zhen 真), One (yi 一), and spirit (shen 神). The Real means the stage of cultivating the true self. The reality of the human body is neither physiological nor psychological but the unity of both attributes. During the inward journey to encounter the One, the distinction between the body and the spirit gradually fades away. It is realized that the whole alchemical body is in the likeness of the changing cosmos, in which Qi fills the emptied body and is spontaneously in the making. This is the stage of One, or Qi. In order to transform the body into an alchemical vessel to smelt inborn Qi, the adept learns to regulate the breath pattern— the method to regulate bodily fire. This inborn Qi refers to the vitality of the body, not the primordial Qi. The preservation of the primordial Qi occurs in the stage of communicating with the divine. Having realized what connects the body and the cosmos, the adept flows with Qi and moves beyond his body into the celestial environment. Neither are there natural gods that could exist without their dwelling places—celestial bodies—nor is there true bodily vigor that could exist without the bodily vessel. This is the principle of mutuality between the body and the spirit (xingshen xiangwei 形神相衛) (IC 244). Compared with the stage of Qi in which the adept is happily lost in Qi, the stage of immortals requires the adept to commune with the community of immortals. When the cultivating body has diffused into the cosmos, the mind completely loses its grip on any cognitive control, as in Zhuangzi’s method of letting go of all things. This is the stage of communicating with immortals. At this stage, the One emerges out of inexhaustible peace. It dwells in harmony with the surrounding parts of the body and turns the body inside out. The communication with the natural gods then becomes a natural process because the adept is already a member of the community like others who have personified Dao with their celestial bodies. He travels freely between two environments and across the distance between the One and the many. The cultivation method is undoubtedly described in a mystical genre. But the mysticism is by no means philosophically unintentional. The textual study essentially tries to recover the idea that the cosmos, the body, and the crucible are intrinsically alike. They are vessels different in scale, yet the core reality resting in these vessels is alchemically the same. What is



ge hong’s preservation of the one75

the underlying reality of this core? Ge Hong says, “Change is the principle of Nature.” Change is the basic sign of life; life evolves in the context of change. Celestial movements, inner bodily activities, and alchemical transformation share the same principles of change. Change is not subordinated to another even higher and unchangeable reality. Contrary to the Parmenidean division of Being and Becoming and the Platonic separation of unchanging Forms and changing objects, change is the reality of life at its most primal form. This change is internally self-caused and externally self-causing. It is not governed by random chance, but by the accord of following its own course. Laozi describes the principle of spontaneity as “Dao follows its own accord” (daofa ziran 道法自然) (Laozi 25). Zhuangzi argues that the spontaneous accord of the Dao is knowable through the method of “forgetting the self” (zuowang 坐忘). “By leaving his desiring body behind, by leaving his controlling mind behind, by leaving forms and assumed knowledge of them behind, the sage becomes a part of the reality in which all things are inwardly connected. This is what forgetting the self while sitting means” (Zhuangzi 6).40 Ge Hong defines spontaneity as the principle of Nature. It springs out of the relational ontology of Xuan-Qi. In cultivation, the change is presented in the image in which Qi forms all changing things into a living harmony. The synthesis of inner and outer environments stands in contrast to the Parmenidean antithesis of being and becoming. Parmenides’ ontological gap between metaphysical and physical is, in Ge Hong’s method, merely an illusion created in the human mind rather than a permanent reality in the natural world. In cultivation, the first step to be taken is to remove this intellectual illusion. The adept then can be free his assumption about the world. To understand this core reality is not to engage in a mental exercise involving step-by-step reasoning bound to the criterion of logic, but rather to have an existential experience. The bodily engagement with the Dao— the universal order—takes the form of a wandering journey to enter into the life of Dao in Qi. Until the adept has fully infused himself in this core reality, he can only speculate on something or being (you 有) but cannot see nothing or not-being (wu 無). Until the adept has wandered in the city of Qi, he cannot shift his gazing eyes from bright stars to the infinite dark space that holds them together. Until the adept has experienced the spontaneous One, he cannot realize that the changing of the four seasons actually is one single rhythm that is constantly turning and in the making. Until the adept has preserved the One, occupying its space effortlessly, he cannot realize that to live with Nature requires no control but only following. Until the adept has wandered into the core of Nature, he cannot

76

textual studies

wonder why sophisticated plurality abides in harmonious unity. Neither can the One exist without the many, nor can the many without the One. Behind the mystical genre, there is also a kind of Daoist empiricism that can be brought into clearer focus through a historical lens. Ge Hong’s cultivation belonged to the school of empiricism. It began in the Han period as a heterodox current practiced by various fangshi and then found its place in organized religious Daoism in the Jin period. The school of empiricism did not break away from the early Lao-Zhuang intellectualism, but the early tradition developed and continued through the empirical school, which was misunderstood by Confucians intellectually as esoteric fangshu. From the early philosophical contemplation of the One (zhiyi 知 一) to the later religious preservation of the One (shouyi 守一), the quest for unity with the cosmos never faded away. One of the chief advances beyond intellectualism was the perspective on the body and the unique idea of a thinking body. Since the body was viewed as a miniature of the cosmos, the cognitive activity of the mind subsequently belonged to and was a part of the alchemical body. This advance evolved out of the synthesis of the micro and the macro represented by the Scripture of the Yellow Chamber, and drew nourishment from the practice of fangshu in which medicine played the key role to understand the body clinically. It then reached a climax in the empirical school that argued that the ultimate form of knowledge was not consciousness but existential. Ge Hong’s soteriology belonged to this school but added a new criterion that echoed his medical practice. Not all ecstatic feelings were beneficial to health, and not all arts were methods of longevity. If bodily knowledge was true, then truth had to be life giving.

Summary Joseph Needham once famously argued that Daoism propelled the development of Chinese sciences.41 Ge Hong is an important figure in that tradition. His writings have provided us with enough information to puzzle together his grand vision. Both forms of cultivation that he describes seek a path exactly opposite to the ontological flow of Dao. Cosmogony unfolds from the one to the many in the mode of separation. Soteriology returns from the many to the one in the mode of unification. The former articulates the self-awakening Dao in the process of creation. The latter practices those methods that yield hidden paths to the core of all realities. The unfolding separation and the refolding unification form a wheel of change. They are an empirical interpretation of the two central concepts in the Daodejing: the Dao and its Virtue. The cosmic wheel is not an



ge hong’s preservation of the one77

enclosed and self-repeating circle, but a turning wheel (Figure 3.4). As the wheel turns, spontaneous continuity rolls out a course over the discontinuity of ten thousand things. Compared with Plato, who believes reason is innate in the rational part of the soul, Ge Hong believes Qi is the inborn reality of human life. Contrary to Platonic intellectual wisdom, Ge Hong’s preserved Qi is more than a cognitive state of mind; it is an existential life. The One can be preserved in human life, so the body becomes a vessel to harbor cosmic potency. Thus, the body is a micro recipient of the macrocosmic essence because Qi is a reality to be experienced both inside and outside of the human body, rather than an idea to be grasped. Influenced by Wang Chong’s “reality as the criterion of truth,” Ge Hong’s view holds that the knowledge of Dao must be evaluated against the soteriological criterion of whether knowledge is life giving. Compared with Plato’s rational philosophy, which is psychological, immaterial, and ideal, the Preservation of the One is biological, empirical, and existential. Both philosophies are soteriological, but their contents are different. Ge Hong aims to preserve the bond between the human

Fig. 3.4.  Inner and Outer Alchemy and the wheel of change

78

textual studies

microcosm and the macrocosm. Based on empirical knowledge about what the One does to the body, the adept is posed to take the intellectual step across the distance between the one and the many. Yet the unity between the person and the cosmos is not liberation of the soul from the body, but the liberation of the body through which the spirit is harbored. This soteriological aim holds the key to understanding many Daoist mystical texts written in highly coded language.

chapter 4

Plato’s Doctrine of Forms

In Chapter 2 I investigated historical connections between Plato and the pre-Socratics through the study of the Parmenides. Parmenides’ ontological tradition of Being, answered the question of the one and the many with the theory of Forms and exposed before the Eleatic school one of the key problems of the theory, namely, the separation of Forms from sensibles. But the investigation also indicated that Plato’s Forms had radically changed the one and many debate from a cosmogonical schema, in which universals were understood as primordial stuff out of which the world was made, to an ontological schema, in which universals were viewed as eternal ideas that exist permanently within the Parmenidean realm of Being and independent of Becoming. Behind this paradigm change, there is a complex system of Forms that categorizes reality in a linear hierarchy and defines ontology in degrees, which subsequently becomes one of the most influential categorizations in Western metaphysics. This chapter asks to what extent this system has reshaped the landscape of the OM debate and whether we can compare the two ontological systems of Ge Hong and Plato, which increasingly diverge in content. The main passages for the discussion of Plato’s ontology come from the Republic: the Divided Line, the Simile of the Sun, and the Simile of the Cave. The Timaeus provides the background of Plato’s cosmology and gives breadth to his Forms.

Forms: Immanent or Transcendent? The doctrine of Forms is not a consistent thought throughout Plato’s dialogues. In the Symposium (211a–b), the Republic, and the Timaeus (51e–52d), which are grouped in the middle and the later dialogues respectively,1 the Forms are clearly transcendent above and ontologically independent from sensible objects. The Forms in the Meno and Phaedo (102b) are comparatively immanent within sensible objects. These two types of Forms create the disjunction within the doctrine of Forms. Which type of Forms represents Plato’s thought on the relationship between Forms and physical objects? Traditionally it has been accepted that Plato postulates transcen79

80

textual studies

dental Forms and keeps perfect Forms and imperfect physical objects ontologically apart.2 Recent scholarship tends to read the disjunction to be not as great as typically thought and attempts to reconcile the inconsistency.3 Among the emerging new views, Gail Fine’s arguments appear to be the most provocative. In two essays “Separation” 4 and “Immanence,” 5 the central argument not only has turned against the traditional interpretation, but has gone to the other extreme to argue immanence as the central feature of Forms. However, the Fine view also meets serious criticisms. Vlastos states that the same claim on separation may be expressed by either (P) or (Q): (P)  The forms exist “themselves by themselves.” (Q)  The forms exist “separately.”

Vlastos argues that Plato holds both expressions to be true. He then explains, “So there is a good reason to accept the equivalence of (P) and (Q) as authentic Platonic doctrine.” 6 Daniel Devereux also defines the traditional view as an accurate account of Plato’s doctrine of Forms: “I believe that Plato’s views on immanence and separation are consistent and clear-cut: from the Phaedo on, he denies that Forms are immanent in their participants, and he is committed throughout to the claim that all Forms are ontologically independent of sensible particulars.” 7 Having noted the dispute, let us consider a Daoist view. If the texts demonstrate that inconsistency does exist within the centerpiece of Plato’s thought, then why shouldn’t we simply accept the ambiguity? Apart from the logical contrary of transcendence and immanence, is there anything more to the ambiguity? To affirm Forms as both transcendent and immanent may not be a logical contradiction to be rejected but could well represent an intellectual challenge to discover connections between transcendence of truths and their immanence within physical realities. By asking how one can participate in many without ceasing to be one, the topic of transcendence and immanence or essence and existence will lead us into the study of Plato’s theory of the one and the many. But first we should come to terms with Plato’s ontological degrees.

Ontological Degrees: A Hierarchy of “One over Many” Plato’s ontology classifies what is (or ontos) by defining reality in degrees. It categorizes reality by quantifying rationality on a scale consisting of the Form of Good, Forms, sensibles, and images each possess. For Plato the scaling of reality in degrees and the ascending order of mental statuses are



plato’s doctrine of forms81

two parallel rails that take philosophers to encounter the truth defined by Forms. Ontology and epistemology are inseparable. The dynamics of Plato’s ontological-epistemological parallelism can be presented in the following diagram, which is a summary of the Divided Line passage in the Republic (509d–511e).8 The diagram will be referred to frequently later to give a visual perspective of Plato’s abstract and sophisticated arguments. (A)  Dialectic intelligence First principles The ideal realm of (B)  Mathematical reason Assumptions of Forms Being (C)  Belief Physical objects The actual realm of (D) Illusion Images Becoming

Images/Illusion and Physical Objects/Belief The “lowest” category is images/illusion. Plato’s categorization relies on the geometric principle of reflection, such as a mirror image on the water or a polished surface (510a). Therefore, images are regarded as the reflections of objects. They are not real objects themselves, but only illusions of something else. A mirror image of a person cannot have real existence without the person that it reflects. Images and physical objects are two different degrees of reality; the latter is the cause of the former. Since illusions bear little relation to truth, Plato ranks the perception of images as the lowest level of understanding. It is “the wholly unenlightened state of mind” 9 that ordinary people gain from primitive perception, yet it falls short of seeing the “originals of the images.” In book 10, Plato explicitly, also controversially, ranks poetry in this lowest section of knowing, and categorizes art in general as an illusive representation of physical objects.10 In his words, “so the tragic poet, if his art is representation, is by nature at third remove from the throne of truth; the same is true of all other representative artists” (597e). If Plato’s view of poetry were true, then Ge Hong’s poetic genre would be ranked as the lowest form of knowledge. If visual artists understand the lowest degree of truth, would musicians not also fit into this category? Aren’t Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Homer’s Iliad, and Michelangelo’s Last Judgment equally representations of passion, wonder, beauty, and harmony? They have incarnated something eternal and transfigured art into vehicles of truth by weaving divine truth and human passion. Plato’s preference for music over visual arts and poetry is Pythagorean in kind. Astronomy and music

82

textual studies

are two movements of harmony (530d) sharing mathematical concords in common. As in the Timaeus they together form a transcendental harmony of the World Soul that can even be demonstrated mathematically.11 Plato’s negative attitude toward poetry and the visual arts fits his schema of Forms-sensibles-images. Physical objects (or sensibles, using the technical term), according to Plato, “stand for the objects that are the originals of the images—the animals around us, and every kind of plant and manufactured object” (510a). Compared with images, sensibles are the substantial “originals of the images.” They are inferior to Forms (Phaedo 75b) and less real. Although sensibles possess real existence, they are still ontologically dependent upon invisible Forms as their causes. In other words, without the causal Forms sensibles would not even exist. Within the divide between visible becoming and intelligible being, sensibles are copies of Forms and exist in the realm of becoming. Forms, however, are self-subsistent beings and exist independently in the realm of being. In short, sensibles are imperfect copies of Forms. Tangible things do not fully possess rationality, but they approximate Forms. Two equal sticks can only be approximately equal but not perfectly equal.12 Any drawn circle is fully real not because it does not look like a circle, but because its imperfection is viewed against the inability to fully exemplify a principle: the locus of points equidistant to a fixed center. The Epistemological Problem of the Sensibles The ontological distinction between Form and sensible has direct implications for epistemology. Ontology is defined by quantifying degrees of being possessed by Forms and sensibles. Hence epistemology is valued by the degree of real and less real between two degrees of reality. The subordinate order of image, sensibles, and Forms corresponds to the ladder of knowledge of the least real, the less real, and the most real Forms. Forms possess and exemplify the complete truth; sensibles only contain partial truth; but images are the illusion of incomplete truth. If a tree is a physical copy of the Form of tree-ness, then a picture of a tree is only a representation of the tree. The Form is the reality that philosophers seek. The physical tree is the inferior reality that craftsmen may lay their hands on. A picture of tree is an image of the second-degree reality of a tree that artists express. Why are sensibles epistemologically unreliable? Plato says they “hover between being and not-being” (479b). A beautiful rose is beautiful one day and becomes ugly some days later. The fading away of beauty shows the changing status of the physical rose. Unlike the Form of beauty that can only be beautiful and not ugly, a physical rose is a composition of



plato’s doctrine of forms83

the contrary properties of beauty and ugliness, or being-beautiful and notbeing beautiful. If the Form represents precise knowledge of the noncontradictory being-beautiful, then the rose is the mixture of two contrary properties of being and not-being. Epistemologically the rose is imprecise because it is not what the Beauty really is. All physical objects have the same ambiguity. They are not “definitely either being or not being or both” (479c) but drift between “what fully is and what absolutely is not” (479d). The ontological ambiguity of being and not-being defines sensibles as the category of becoming. In the Divided Line Plato couples sensibles with belief and Forms with intelligence (511d). With these general schematics, Plato distinguishes two kinds of humans. Ordinary people take sensibles at face value; they are “sight lovers” (476b). Like Parmenides’ way of opinion, Plato believes that the faculty of sight can produce only opinion (511a, d–e). Philosophers, however, are wisdom lovers. They rely on the faculty of thought, look beyond appearance, but gaze at true realities of what things are. Hence “belief without knowledge is always a poor thing” (506c); perception without reasoning is not rational knowledge. In the Timaeus (28) the knowledge/belief and Forms/sensibles arguments shape the core of Plato’s doctrine of creation. The created world is the visible image of the invisible model (28). Thus any study of images is epistemologically unproductive and “never fully real” (27d). Empirical studies of the changing world are bound to be imprecise. The “never fully real” again reflects the inferior ontological status of the physical world, which “is always becoming but never is.” The phrase “never fully real” unveils Plato’s rejection of Heraclitus’ flux in favor of Parmenidean Being. Thus he protects Forms from the turbulent tide of change, just as Parmenides did for Being. Consequently being can affect becoming but cannot be affected by it.

Infallible Knowledge As briefly mentioned in the second chapter, the doctrine of Forms is Plato’s answer to the Parmenidean ontology of “one without many.” Each Form is an ontological structure of one over many that predicates many phenomena sharing the same being. Contrary to the Parmenidean denial of plurality, for Plato plurality is implied through the predication of unity. It is through unity that sensibles are understood as plural instances of the same reality. But apart from this acceptance of plurality through unity, the uniqueness of Forms evidently is a Parmenidean characteristic. The distinction between “what absolutely is” and “what altogether is not” evi-

84

textual studies

dently also inherits the division of Parmenidean Being and Becoming. This divide rises out of the central argument that within Being “there is nothing of not-Being” (book 2, 1–6). Having accepted the definition of Being, Plato commits to two principles that the ontology of “Being without not-Being” implies. (A)  Each Form is a being without not-being.

This bears a Parmenidean homogeneity by excluding not-being and represents a pure being. Contrary to sensibles, which are the composition of being and not-being, Forms are noncontradictory unities in which the copresence of contrary identities is prohibited. This is the noncontradiction principle. (B)  Each Form is unchangeable.

Change is both being and not-being. Since not-being is denied through the premise of “Being without not-Being,” change cannot happen in Forms. This is because the Parmenidean idea of change implies selfchange. Change requires Being to undergo modification from one identity to something different from the original. This is a fallacy. If the original is the not-being of Dao, it can give birth to being without ceasing to be what it is. I will explore this problem in comparative ontology. In Plato’s context, change is a universal character of sensibles but not of Forms. This is the nonchangeability principle. How do these principles answer the question of the one and the many? We can pose three questions. First, how does Plato implement the Parmenidean antithesis of “Being/not-being”? Second, what is the problem of not-being for the Forms? Third, what will arise from the disassociation of being from not-being? In Republic, book 5, Plato explains the noncontradiction principle with the Form of Beauty. Plato first states that “beauty and ugliness are opposites”; they are two contrary qualities (475e). According to the noncontradiction principle, the Form of Beauty is impelled to exclude ugliness. Therefore, the Form Beauty is an infallible identity that can never be nor become ugly. A particular beautiful thing, a rose, for example, may be not beautiful some days later or may be seen as ugly if it is wrongly placed in improper situations. For Plato, “the same is true of justice and injustice, good and evil” (476a). The absolute Justice cannot be injustice under any circumstances, nor can the ethical idea of good mutate into evil. For Plato the knowledge of “what beauty is” cannot derive from a beau-



plato’s doctrine of forms85

tiful rose primarily because of its mixture of being beautiful and not-being beautiful. Anything that is both being and not-being is not genuinely a Form; it is a self-contradictory entity.13 To conceptualize “what beauty is,” one must look beyond the fluctuating state of being/not-being and inquire into “the essential nature of beauty itself ” (476b). This “beauty itself ” is a noncontradictory identity of “what beauty is.” Therefore, the ontology of being-itself (nothing but beauty itself) produces true knowledge of beauty, which is also freed from the dual presence of the opposites of “what beauty is” and “what beauty is not.” The core of the argument is the Parmenidean “Being without notbeing.” By the ontological exclusion of not-being, Plato argues that philosophers are able to seek beyond self-contradictory entities in temporal instances and reach noncontradictory Forms. Forms are single realities that exemplify the ontological uniqueness of “beauty-in-itself,” “goodnessin-itself,” and “justice-in-itself ” (507b). They are self-generating and casual beings that neither require external contribution to be “what really is,” nor are they affected by change and decay (485b). They are eternal realities according to which physical realities have been organized. Plato believes the knowledge of noncontradictory Forms cannot be acquired from the composite sensibles. Why cannot we acquire the one from the many? What prevents the composition of being and not-being from being the empirical point of departure for true intelligence? It is the problem of not-being. Plato contends in the Parmenidean fashion that, on the one hand, we can only think of something in some sense of being and, on the other hand, not-being is unknowable (476e–477a). (a) Does a man who knows, know something or nothing? (b) A person can only know something. (c) Something is what is; nothing is what is not. (d) A person can only know something but cannot know what is not (nothing). (e) What fully is (being) is fully knowable; what no way is (not-being) is entirely unknowable.

The argument has two problems one of which leads to the other. First, “nothing is what is not” in (c) is wrong; not-being does not equate to nothing.14 To equate “not-being” with “nothing” is a Parmenidean fallacy. If the Form of beauty is something, then its logical negation is not-beauty. Not-beauty does not necessary entail ugliness but can mean anything other than beauty. For instance, a not-beautiful person can appear to be a nor-

86

textual studies

mal looking person. Normal appearance is not nothing at all but something. Thus “nothing is what is not” in (c) is false. It is a problem of subject negation when the “not” directly negates the subject “beauty.” Second, not-being is not unknowable. “A person cannot know what is not” in (d) relies on the assumption that “what is not” equals nothing. Parmenides in his epistemology argues that we can only think about something, but we cannot possibly think about nothing. Here Plato follows the same “unthinkable nothingness.” However, if not-beautiful can refer either to what is ugly or to whatever is neither ugly nor beautiful, then there is a problem of collapsing the distinction between opposition and negation. Ugly is the opposite of beautiful. Neither beautiful nor ugly—normal looking—is what the logical negation of beauty entails. If not-beauty can mean normal looking (or ugly), then it is only something other than being beautiful. Why is “normal” totally unknowable? In fact, normal is not nothing but something. According to the second statement (b), which accepts “a person can only know something,” normal—a possibility of something other than beautiful—must be knowable. So the conclusion (e) is false. The analysis reveals that the argument is crippled. The argument relies on two double equations. The positive equation:

“being=something=knowable”

The negative equation:

“not-being=nothing=unknowable”

The first is a positive argument on the theory of Forms that Plato argues elsewhere. But here Plato supports the argument that we cannot acquire the one from the many with the second double equation. Sensibles are unreliable for true knowledge not only because they are composite entities, but also because the element of not-being is unknowable. As the above analysis shows, it turns out that “not-being= nothing” is false, and the conclusion “not-being= unknowable” is also wrong. Therefore, the whole argument has lost the support of the negative equation. Is this a cardinal mistake? Yes, because the argument originally relies on the negative equation to support the position equation. Once one leg of the argument is false, it brings down the other. What is dragged down is the proposition that the knowledge of Forms is only possible in and through Forms. The analysis has shown that the knowledge of Beauty can be possible through not-beauty as in the case of “normal looking.” This is the epistemological path from the many to the one, which Parmenides denied and Plato rejects. In a Daoist sense, this path can mean experience by cultivating the immanent presence of Dao in a person and empiri-



plato’s doctrine of forms87

cal study by engaging alchemical practice to know the works of Dao in Nature. Furthermore, the fact that the argument on the unintelligibility of not-being is false causes one to rethink why the distinction between being and not-being is at the heart of Parmenidean-Platonic ontology at all. Why should subject negation be the only alternative to define the relation between being and not-being? Can the Daoist alternative of nothing-­ something correlation be considered? Plato had something else in mind. According to Cornford, Plato maintains that “whatever is thought of must in some sense be.” 15 Again, this is the Parmenidean tradition that being, and only unalterable being, is the starting point of ontology. Yet if Plato wants only to argue his theory of beings, it is enough to say that we can only think of beings called Forms. Why does he follow the Parmenidean path and persistently argue against not-being? Cornford has not addressed this question; in fact the question has been explained away. As the equation “being= something= knowable” shows, Plato argues that knowing noncontradictory Forms can produce infallible knowledge of unchanging realities (something) defined by beings without not-being. Furthermore, changing realities—the compositions of being/not-being— are denied full ontological status because of their association with notbeing; belief is thought to be imprecise because changing sensibles belong to realm of becoming. Becoming involves the contradiction of being and not-being. Plato defines the epistemological degrees of knowledge, belief, and ignorance not only according to their degrees of being possessed in Forms (fully present), sensibles (partially present), and images (totally absent), but also according to the degrees of not-being with which the three categories of reality are associated. He says, “Knowledge is related to what is and ignorance necessarily to what is not” (477a); belief falls “between ignorance and knowledge” (477b). As long as the noncontradictory principle stands, Plato affirms being and simultaneously rejects not-being. If we consider that the world of change as a whole is made of compositions of being and not-being, since being is unchangeable, then not-being must be directly responsible for change. Just as the Parmenidean denial of not-being leads to the denial of change in homogeneous Being, Plato’s rejection of not-being also prevents Forms from undergoing ontological change. To be sure, ontology of change was the position that the Milesian School and Heraclitus held in the pre-Socratic OM debate. Plato rejects the position and presents his ontology of unchangeable Forms. The rejection takes three steps. First, the noncontradiction principle of “being without not-being” disqualifies

88

textual studies

not-being from having any ontological property. Second, the false equation of “not-being= nothing” reduces not-being to non-existence. Third, the charge of unthinkable nothingness reduces knowing not-being to epistemological nonsense and mental ignorance. Even though the negative argument turns out to be unproven—“notbeing≠nothing≠unknowable”—Plato still uses the noncontradiction principle as a filtration device to separate not-being from the pure realm of being. What has been excluded, as “not-being≠ nothing≠ unknowable” shows, does not stand for the opposite of truth, namely, falsehood. Plato’s positive argument on Forms has neither proven nor disproved the epistemological status of not-being. It has simply excluded it all together. If philosophy has its chief interest in beings, then knowledge of Forms has a limited scope. Rational philosophy aims to understand beings; notbeing(s) falls outside of its scope entirely. What Plato has done in the schema of Forms/knowledge is simply to disassociate being from notbeing and to prioritize knowledge with respect to other understandings that are not entangled with not-being, which is defined by the problematic subject negation.

Independent Beings Why are Forms ontologically independent? This can be explained using the classic example of “craftsman and bed” for introductory purposes. Plato makes a threefold distinction of reality in the Republic (597a–d): the Form of bed, physical beds, and pictures of beds. Plato believes that there exists a single Form of bed created by the divine craftsman that is predicated of every actual bed in the world. The Form is eternal, immaterial, indestructible, and independent of sensibles. Without the Form no concept of bed would be conceived, nor could any bed-making activity be possible. Within this example, ontological independence has three related dimensions. First, Forms have separate existence. An ideal bed exists independent of and separate from actual beds. Even if all beds in the world were destroyed, the ideal bed would still exist. The indestructibility of the ideal rests on its “separate existence” from the actual (Parmenides 130b). Thus the Form is capable of existing independently. The same status of independence has been composed in immortal souls. After death souls are capable of existence in a disembodied state. Plato’s ethical Forms ( justice, beauty, love, good, and so forth) in general possess separate existence. Second, Forms are non-immanent beings. This feature of Platonism was a matter of controversy even among people in the Academy. Aristotle



plato’s doctrine of forms89

criticized it in the Metaphysics, saying that Forms “do not inhere in the things that participate in them” (991). For Plato, the ideal bed conceals “the first principle” in itself (511b) and exemplifies the determination of one ideal bed among all physical beds. Non-immanence refers to the principle that is not in actual beds but in the universal reality of “bed-in-itself ” (597d). The causal identity is concealed within being-itself, and the identity is self-affirmative and self-sufficient as being “in itself by itself and with itself” (Symposium 211a–b; Republic 507b). All beds gain identity from the Form bed-itself by participation. The relation of the non-immanent one and the participatory many reassembles the cause/caused dualism. The distinction between being-itself and things of being-itself cannot be collapsed (Timaeus 51e–52a). Third, Forms are transcendental. The attribute of transcendence has already been implied in the “separation from” and the “non-immanence within” sensibles. The attribute becomes more evident and problematic when it is viewed against the double-world view. As in the case of Pythagorean antimaterialism, Plato also postulates the mathematical nature of Forms. For example, the principle of circle is the transcendental reality of many circular shapes. In the Timaeus, Plato makes an even stronger claim that at the time when the physical world had not been created the Forms were already there. Transcendence in the doctrine of creation is meant to be the primordiality of Forms. It refers to the entire ideal world of Forms that were self-subsistent before the creation and existed as a parallel universe beyond primordial chaos. The problem of independence has been discussed in the Parmenides. Here it is to be argued that transcendence and immanence are not logical antitheses to be kept apart, but two sides of the paradox to be joined. To start with, I excavate the problem of immanence embedded in transcendental Forms and then discuss why Plato asserts transcendence despite the dilemma of immanence. In the craftsman analogy, Plato uses the verb “resemble” to indicate actual beds as resemblances of the ideal. If we think about it, for a human craftsman to make a bed means to bring the idea into a pile of timber. The ideal Form ought to be immanent in the actual bed in order that the actual can resemble the ideal. The same dilemma must be true for ethical Forms of good-itself, beauty-itself, and justice-itself. To be a good, beautiful, and just person, the Forms ought to manage a sort of presence in the person in order that the immanent characters of the virtues may be identified. Regarding these examples, all Forms must be immanent within, not just transcendental over, sensibles. This is the paradox of immanence that transcendence Forms must address.

90

textual studies

If Forms are non-immanent, how could the human mind know them? This question, which the old Parmenides asks the young Socrates in the Parmenides, does not go away despite the fact that Parmenides’ arguments remain unwarranted. Knowledge requires a path—an immanent path from many to one—for humans to reach beyond sensibles to Forms. If the path is not there, it is probable that the objects are not knowable but rather remain as presupposed ideas subsistent on their own.

Summary In leaving this chapter, it is necessary to point out where the above discussion leads. It leads to the study of the paradoxical dilemma of continuity and discontinuity within ontological unity and the relationship among multiple unities. This dilemma can be named differently, such as the paradox of transcendence and immanence, heterogeneity and homogeneity, difference and sameness. But the central issue of what these pairs represent is the noncollapsible tension between one and many. The core of the one and the many is not the apparent antithesis of transcendence and immanence, even though philosophies of Greek origin have treated one and many as a logical problem. Rather it is the issue of how elementary reality (or realities) has been presupposed in the first place. The OM problem is the problem of being. Plato rejects pre-Socratic theories on the basis that many of them promote ontological change. His doctrine of Forms eliminates the element of not-being in ontology by making unchanging Forms independent of change. As a result Plato also creates the independence of being-itself, and each Form is a unity of commonality within the one over many structure. But the creation of Forms also creates a problem, the problem of unity over the plural Forms. Is there another Super Form over all Forms? Here we turn to Plato’s idea of the Good.

chapter 5

Two Forms of Enlightenment

At the end of the Simile of the Sun, Plato says: “What gives the objects of knowledge their truth and the knower’s mind the power of knowing is the form of the good (508e). . . . The good therefore may be said to be the source not only of the intelligibility of the objects of knowledge, but also of their being and reality; yet it is not itself that reality, but beyond it, and superior to it in dignity and power” (509b).

The Good: The Cause of Reality and knowledge The Form of Good has occupied the supreme position within the doctrine of Forms. For Plato Forms are related to the supreme Good, on the one hand, and the Good provides an umbrella over the multiple Forms, on the other. Discussion on Forms and the Good can be found in various dialogues: Symposium (205e–206a), Phaedo (99c), Republic (509b), Phaedrus (245e), Philebus (133, 15a), and Timaeus (29e). The scope of the Good is comprehensive. If Platonic Forms are the objects of knowledge that enable human minds to be connected with ethical universals and arithmetic theorems and geometric pattens, then Plato’s Good is the visionary unity of ethics, mathematics, epistemology, and ontology. If reason follows the road of knowledge and arrives at transcendental Forms, then Plato envisions at the intellectual summit there stands the Good as the grand unity of all ends of philosophical wisdom. Although the idea of the Good occupies a significant position in Plato’s thought, Plato has not presented a systematic theory about it. In fact it is mystical. One could think along lines that attribute new meanings to the Good: it is a creatorlike god comparable with the Jewish-Christian God or a grand unifying theory for all cosmological principles. The concept opens itself to interpretation not simply because of its ambiguity, but because of its visionary unity rooted in Western consciousness. Historically the Platonic Good-itself has been a puzzling and thought-provoking concept for both Neoplatonists and early Christian theologians.1 In recent Platonic studies, many scholars have reinvestigated the concept, which represents one of the main puzzles in Platonism.2 It occupies the central position in 91

92

textual studies

Plato’s Eleatic dialogues, 3 and it is closely associated with the One in the Parmenides.4 With diverse interpretations, scholars frequently return to the key set of texts in the Republic where Plato’s discussion of the Good is spread through the Simile of the Sun and the Divided Line, the Curriculum for educating philosophers, and the Cave. 5 From these passages, the collective understanding of the Good can be brought into focus. The Good is both a vision of wholeness and its harmony. The following study, however, is not designed to summarize recent scholarship. It aims to identity key aspects of the Good to prepare for the comparison of two different forms of the ultimate good in Plato and Ge Hong. The Claims In the passage quoted above, Plato makes three remarkable claims. The Good is (a) “the source” of Forms, (b) “the power of knowing” truth, and (c) “not reality” but “beyond it” on the other side of reality. If the Good is the beginning of ontological realities and the end of ethical and mathematical knowledge, then this ultimate reality itself becomes the alpha of realities and the omega of intellectual enlightenment. Such a supreme oneness, which links reality and knowledge, is comparable with Ge Hong’s concept of One, within which ontology and epistemology come to face to face with each other. For Plato a dialogue with the Good is the intellectual enlightenment transforming a thinker into a true philosopher. The question is how to attain the enlightenment. In the Simile of the Sun, Plato begins by linking the Good to the sun. The sun is the source of light that gives visibility to sensible objects (507c); without light the faculty of sight is unable to see objects. The sun “is not itself sight” but “the cause of vision” (508b). Similarly the Good is the source of intelligibility to thought that gives the enlightening power to the faculty of knowledge (509b); without the Good the mind cannot “be fixed on Forms illuminated by truth” (508d). The sun “causes the processes of generation, growth, and nourishment without itself being such a process” (509b). Likewise, the Good is “not only the source of the intelligibility of Forms, but their being and existence also come from it” (509b). To understand the simile, we must pay attention to Plato’s comparison between the sun/sensibles and the Good/Forms. Both the sun and the Good transcend sensibles and Forms. Without the sun the sensible world is imperceptible; without the Good Forms would be unilluminated and unintelligible. Just as the sun is neither sight nor sensibles, the Good is neither knowledge nor objects of knowledge (Forms). But they are transcendental causes with the one over many determination that penetrate



two forms of enlightenment93

what has been caused. Without the sun, generation, growth, and nourishment of sensibles will not be possible. Without the Good, the existence of Forms will not be possible. If we examine Plato’s three claims in conjunction with the one over many structure, the Good is (a) the ontological cause of Forms, (b) the epistemological cause for Forms to be intelligible, and (c) the connection between reality and mind. Putting these claims in the language of one over many, (a′) the One Good predicates many Forms—unity over plurality, (b′) the one enlightens the mind to “see” many Forms, and (c′) the Good is the one over many connection between Forms and minds. These three points can be visualized as follows. The Good



Forms

The mind

In this diagram, the first claim (a′) seems self-explanatory. It claims that the Good predicates Forms, just as the sun shines on sensibles. The predication is a determinative cause over many Forms. The second claim (b′) indicates that the mind must be enlightened by the Good; otherwise even if Forms are illuminated and self-evident the mind cannot see them. If these two one over many relations are relatively straightforward, the third one (c′)—the Good as the connection between Forms and minds—is not. But the third is crucial because if the connection is not there, then Forms will not be accessible to the mind. The Epistemological Problem of the Good The first and second claims condition the third. The first claims that the Good is the ontological condition that causes Forms to exist. The second claims that the Good is the epistemological condition that causes the mind to recognize Forms. These two sides of the triangle suggest that the mind could not know Forms if the Good were absent. In this sense, there is

94

textual studies

no direct connection between the mind and Forms. To put it in positive terms, the Good is the bridge between Forms and the mind. By claiming the Good as the ontological and epistemological cause, Plato suggests that the knowledge of Forms is only an indirect path. Until we apprehend the Good, we will not know what Forms truly are with absolute clarity. This indirect path further entails that to attain knowledge of Forms we must first ascend to the level of the Good and then descend with an enlightened state of mind to comprehend the first principles that Forms exemplify. In the comparative view, the third claim is similar to Ge Hong’s: “If a person can know the One, [the knowledge of] ten thousand issues will come to an end. For those who know the One, nothing is beyond knowing. For those who do not know the One, nothing is [truly] knowable” (IC 323). If the third claim is what Plato proposed, he must also mean that the mind does not have direct access to know Forms. Rather it is through the Good that the mind can truly know Forms. But how does the reasoning mind engage the intellectual ascent? In the Divided Line, Plato has made for us an epistemological ladder with four steps to reach four ontological degrees: illusion/image, opinion/ sensibles, reason/Forms, and dialectic/principles. Unlike the immanent Qi in Daoist cultivation, the ladder reaches from the existential ground to the transcendental realm defined by the one over many hierarchy. If one climbs this ladder, it appears as if one moves upward to seek the source of light, while the source of illumination shines on the ascending path. There are still questions about this elevation of the cognitive state of mind. Is this ladder tall enough for the mind to reach the Good, “whose position must be ranked still higher” (509a)? Is the last step between reason and dialectic too far apart, so that the mind would find it difficult to cross the gap? Does there exist a platform of Good—a foundation to all Forms and reason—on which the mind is able to stand above cloudy assumptions and “see” first principles face to face? While all these questions are indispensable yet point in different directions, a single question will help us to stay focused on the issue of enlightenment. How does the Good connect the mind and Forms?

Intellectual Mountaintop In the seventh book of the Republic, Plato has designed a curriculum of two stages to train philosophers. The first stage includes five mathematical disciplines: arithmetic, plane and solid geometry, astronomy, and harmonics. The second stage involves the procedures of dialectic. The mathematical studies ultimately pave the path to the pure philosophy of dialectic. To



two forms of enlightenment95

Plato, “the capacity for knowledge is innate in each person’s mind” (518c). Although this faculty of knowing is an inborn capacity of humanity, Plato makes it clear that it is not a natural habit for humans to look beyond transitory phenomena. “The mind must be turned away from the world of change until its eye can bear to look straight at reality.” And ultimately it has to gaze “at the brightest of all realities”—the Good (518d). Although reason’s location in the human soul is identical to the logos within the World Soul, humans must connect and conduct a dialogue with the formal cause of knowledge. Education for philosophers, therefore, should achieve two objectives: turning away from the actual world of change to the ideal world of Form and turning toward the Good. The first objective aims to bridge the distance between the mind and the rational models of the world through reason. The second objective should create a fusion between the soul and the Good through dialectic. To achieve the first objective of reasoning, Plato presents the first of the five disciplines, arithmetic, to train abstract thinking beyond the preliminary stage of character building, which involves physical and musical training. Plato argues that arithmetic represents a situation of one and many. Each number is a unity; the whole of numbers forms an unlimited plurality (525a). Like the Pythagoreans, Plato believes the study of numbers is “extraordinarily effective” for envisioning the world, which consists of abstract unities similar to numbers. Arithmetic trains the mind for calculative reasoning and right value judgment, and converts thinking “from the world of becoming to that of [mathematical] reality and truth” (525c). Plane and solid geometries are the disciplines that train the mind to engage with the basic structure of the world. Unlike physical shapes, geometric Forms are “not liable to change and decay” (527b). They demonstrate the interconnectedness of lines, angles, circles, and surfaces. Within geometric structures basic principles, such as the Pythagorean theorem, can be rationally formulated. For Plato all principles are intrinsically good; hence the reasoning mind must further apprehend the common goodness in mathematical studies. Plato later explains in the Timaeus that the goodness in the Republic actually is the divine purpose. Collectively those patterns express the harmony of the Good. With this cosmic vision, Plato argues that the study of geometry has the practical end of “making it easier to see the form of the good” (526e). Based on the hypothesis that astronomy is mathematical (530b), Plato insists that celestial movements have a mathematical nature. Astronomy is a form of celestial geometry. It explains the visible heavens by the reduction of phenomena to invisible geometric patterns. To be sure, this is the astronomical amplification of the doctrine of Forms. Finally it is the disci-

96

textual studies

pline of harmony. Following the Pythagoreans, Plato regards musical harmony as the “sister science” of astronomy (530d). Just as a composer writes concords in musical notes (numbers for Plato), which are played out in movements, Plato further links musical harmony with cosmic harmony with his influential hypothesis that heavenly motions and musical movements share a mathematical nature. This harmony, which later is identified as the central attribute of the World Soul, moves celestial bodies to form a celestial clock. The clock manifests time quantifiable by mathematics. Beyond the study of the five disciplines comes the method of dialectic. Where does dialectic take up from mathematics? Plato says it is the point where we acquire knowledge but “cannot argue logically” about what it is (531e). From this ambiguity, dialectic progressively moves up to “the summit of the intellectual realm” where the Good is (532b). “This progress” is what Plato calls dialectic; it moves from logical ambiguity beneath the cloud of assumptions to the summit of the Good where principles are selfevident. Dialectic takes up assumptions from mathematics and discusses them in critical and logical terms. The procedure involving criticism of assumptions (also proposing higher-level hypotheses) can go on indefinitely until the power of dialectic “destroys” assumptions, “reveals the truth itself,” and “claims” truth with “certainty” (533a). At this level dialectic deals directly with “what each thing essentially is in itself ”—the ontological identity of being-itself—instead of treating basic unities as numbers, geometric shapes, musical concords, and celestial pattens. Instead of being “compelled to use reason” to understand these unities (511c), dialectic “pulls” the mind out of assumption and “leads it” to a conversion (533d). For Plato, reason, which was sufficient in mathematics, becomes insufficient at this higher level. He feels the need to distinguish reason from dialectic. Consequently he calls it “pure knowledge” in the Curriculum, echoing the concept of “intelligence” in the Divided Line. Why can dialectic alone—not reason—reach the end of the intellectual journey? Plato must mean that dialectic alone can connect the mind and the Good. Perhaps enlightenment is all about the connection, just like the connection between a person and the Dao, based on which a foundation of all knowing can be comprehended. The connection allows a free exchange of thought with the Good. If so, Plato leaves us with an impression that dialectic will elevate the mind along the ascending path to focus on the “brightest reality” above all things. But how is it exactly that the dialectic establishes this fusion and transforms the mind at the last stage of ascent? Plato tells us virtually nothing about how. While we speculate on the crucial ambiguity in the Curriculum, Plato somehow switches the discourse on dialectic to another show on the four



two forms of enlightenment97

levels of knowledge in the Line. This aborts the whole drama at the most exciting stage. Instead, Plato treats the Good as one of Forms and repeats what has been said earlier. Through his rhetoric he restates the original proposal that dialectic is the only way to know “what the good in itself is” (534c). Such a detour leaves readers with little to go on in order to answer the question of how the mind makes the final step to dialogue with the Good. It makes them question what Plato said earlier: “So when one tries to get at what each thing is in itself by the exercise of dialectic, relying on reason without any aid from the senses, and refuses to give up until one has grasped by pure thought what the good is in itself, one is at the summit of the intellectual realm” (532a, b). If we do not interpret the saying too literally, it should make the same claim made earlier that the Good is the epistemological cause. But this is a proposition, not a conclusion. How is the mind grasped by the Good? Or does Plato suggest that the causation of knowledge produced by the Good is entirely unexplainable? What can be said about the causation refers to the mind’s intuitive pursuit to capture the Good by which it has been captured. Returning to the earlier question, has Plato shown us the path of enlightenment? The answer is simply no. When we read Plato’s Curriculum as a whole, it is evident that Plato’s intellectual ascent involves two discourses, one on the training of mathematical reasoning through five disciplines, the other on the critical procedure that moves the mind beyond assumptions. Dialectic does not only ensure the coherence of knowledge, but also attains communication with the Good. Although Plato has not demonstrated how mathematics, astronomy, and harmonics converge into a synthesis, it is his conviction that the world is a created harmony principally animating the Good. So mathematical principles are related through the one over many determination and become structures of the cosmos. Plato’s hypothesis of a mathematical universe is undoubtedly one of the most brilliant and enduring ideas in intellectual history. However, within Plato’s grand unity, there is an unbridged gap between the Good and those disciplines. The second discourse is supposed to close the gap, but the dialectic ends with another gap between dialectic and the Good. This later gap further confirms that the earlier gap in the first discourse is actually situated at the higher end of the Divided Line—between knowledge and its cause. If we return to the diagram, what remains to be explained is how the Good and dialectic form a fusion between the cause of knowledge and wisdom. This fusion is essential. Without this fusion the mind cannot reach the Forms that the Good has produced. But it is evident that the road from

98

textual studies

the mind—through the Good—to Forms has an unconnected section at the top end. Plato does not stop there. He repeats the four orders in the Divided Line. In the schema image/illusion, sensibles/belief, Forms/reason, first principles/dialectic, it seems to be self-evident that dialectic and first principles do correspond. However, this correspondence is actually a “short circuit.” It is an assumption to be proven, not a conclusion to be reached. The damage of creating such a “short circuit” is that if the distance between the mind and first principles is short-circuited, there is no need to take the long road through the Good at all. Posting the sign of “the Good as the cause of knowledge,” which invites the mind to travel the distance through the Good rather than taking the already “established” short way, becomes redundant, even unnecessary. As a result, the “short circuit” rejects the proposition all together.

The Enlightened Mind and the Personified Dao From the Daoist perspective, instead of taking the intellectual ladder upwards, one can look inwardly into bodily life. To argue that the Good is the common cause to principles and dialectic, however, requires something like what Ge Hong had in mind. The connectedness between inborn Qi and the adept’s spontaneous search is depicted in imagery in which the adept takes an inward “tour” led by the movement of Qi. In such a tour no shortcut can be taken, one can only follow the “tour guide”—Qi—who invites the adept’s mind to let go of all thoughts and to venture into the reality of Dao. Just as the final moment of preserving the One is an effortless reception of Qi taking its position in bodily elixir fields, the final leg of intellectual enlightenment has nothing to do with human initiative—the kind of rigorous pursuit that Plato speaks of in the procedure of dialectic. Rather it is the result of self-emptying cultivation. Inner peace transforms the body into an empty vessel to receive truth, which is comparable with a lowly positioned pond always ready to receive waters flowing into its emptiness. If we revisit the Sun, Plato has already made a similar point implicit. Human senses can never reach the sun but only receive enlightenment from it. Nor can the mind ever reach the Good, but it can receive wisdom by becoming an “emptied vessel” free from any assumptions. If this is how “the Good as epistemological cause” is interpreted, then the one and many relation between the Good and dialectically trained minds has a radically different meaning. The final step of intellectual ascent is not a cognitive move but the move of the Good. Just as Qi generates overflowing peace within the adept, the



two forms of enlightenment99

ray of the Good warms the hearts of those who gaze at it. To communicate with the Good is actually a passive act of receiving rather than a purposeful act of apprehending. The Good would create a “top-down” flow from the Good to human minds on the condition that the mind had been instructed by the dialectic to be cognitively “lowly positioned” to receive whatever the Good would flow into it. The final stage of dialectic is not a two-way dialogue between the mind and the Good at all. Rather it is a single-directional flow, which Christian theology calls revelation. If the Good is the self-revealing and self-active cause for the mind to recognize truth, then another disturbing question emerges. Is there really the need to insist, “Dialectic in fact is the only procedure . . . to the very first principle of everything” (533b)? No. The dialectic is not the only way, but one of many methods. What really happens to a dialectician at “the summit of the intellectual realm” remains a mystery. Plato is confident that the procedure of dialectic leads the mind to encounter “the vision of the best among realities” (532c) and that intellectual vision later assists the procedure to determine first principles (533b). Why does Plato here change the prefix of the Good from “Form” (which speaks in various passages) to “vision”? As a Form, the Good must have absolute clarity like any other Form, whereas vision is equivocal. We can only gather hints from the Simile of the Sun. The analogy of the sun/Good depicts the Good to be more of an intuitive impression than a rational definition, more of what the Good analogically is than of what the Good absolutely is. The sun is the brightest reality of the visible realm; the Good is comparatively the “brightest reality” in the invisible realm. But in the Simile we get no explanation of why it is the vision, not the Form, of the Good that inspires a dialectician to attain the highest point of his wisdom. For Ge Hong it makes sense to treat the Good as an intuitive vision rather than conforming to a particular Form. The moment of enlightenment is nothing other than the process of breaking down the barrier between the mind and the world. Ge Hong would agree with Plato on the point that the vision of Good over Forms is essentially about the relatedness of Forms in and through the Good. That is Plato’s cosmological point. But for Ge Hong the unity cannot be a numerical oneness that the Form of the Good denotes. It has to be a unity of relatedness in which there is room for plural Forms to relate to each other. They are related not because the determination of the Good penetrates through every one of them, but because within the unity there exists the infinite “land of no form and no trace.” All perceivable boundaries between plural things become unseeable.

100

textual studies

From a Daoist “one within many” perspective, what really happens to a dialectician at the mountaintop must not be a perception of the mind, something like seeing billion rays deriving from a single point above, but a transformation of the mind to realize that everything is interconnected. The enlightened mind does not fail to recognize differences among things, but moves freely among them, as if the boundaries among things had broken down, and the barrier between the mind and the objects had vanished. Philosophical wisdom is no longer a cumulative wisdom depending on the understanding of each Form, but the realized wisdom of finding a path to infuse the mind into the unity and to emerge out of it. The world has not changed, but the mind has seen realities differently. All discontinuities among things together vivify the ontological continuity connecting them. The continuity of the world in itself is the unity, just like what Parmenides saw in his vision. Paradoxically the unity is shown through all discontinuities with multiple things, just as Heraclitus saw the ever-flowing river. Knowledge of the unity, therefore, ought to follow the ontological flow and to investigate what the unity has continued in and through discontinuity. The Good, if it is a unity of Forms, must not be a commonality demanding Forms to confirm with a singular sameness. If the Good is the cause of Forms, then Forms cannot be coeternal with the Good. They must be created realities but superior to sensibles in that they have determination over sensibles. If Forms were coeternal with the Good, then the Good would not be “beyond” and “superior” to them in “dignity and power.” As long as the one over many structure remains, the Good must be in the creator position demanding a commonality of goodness in all Forms. The goodness then becomes the central identity of Forms. It is further required that Forms be subordinate to this being of the Good. Consequently, the commonality will destroy the differences of Forms. Nor can the Good be a unity of togetherness piling up the differences of Forms without a continuity to bring them into relation. It has to be a unity of ontological continuity sustaining discontinuity. To do so, the Good is impelled to move out of its absolute transcendence and to move into Forms to be truly their ontological cause. The One must be in the many, just as the primordial Qi. If the sun shines on sensibles by the virtue of what the sun does, the Good ought to be immanent in Forms. Can the Good be a unity of numerical oneness in the likeness of Forms? No, it cannot. The indivisibility of the numerical one forbids any divisions within the unity. Therefore, the Good cannot be present in the many, in order to obey the principle of indivisibility. However, to be the continuity of discontinued Forms, the Good needs to extend its cause into what has been



two forms of enlightenment101

caused. How is it possible for the unity to be both absolutely transcendent and paradoxically immanent in the many? This is the ontological dilemma.

Philosopher-King: The Synthesis of Wisdom and Power Plato is absolutely clear on what will happen after intellectual enlightenment. A dialectician cannot stay at the mountaintop forever. In the Simile of the Cave, Plato argues the enlightened must descend to the actual world—the cave—where people are still in the prison of darkness. Ge Hong gives a similar instruction to Daoist adepts. Enlightenment is not the end of wisdom, but a new beginning. The best of those who know to preserve the One must translate the knowledge of unity as ontological continuity into a country’s longevity—the succession of a dynasty (IC 326). For Plato, to implement the unity of the Good over many Forms socially is meant to create an ideal society modeled from the determinative OVM structure. The philosopher-king represents the synthesis of wisdom and power, and he rules the state as the one over many. Plato has assigned two tasks to the enlightened who has returned to the mundane world. The first is to relearn knowledge by freeing previous learning from unexamined assumptions. The second is to become a statesman. I have already discussed the first assignment in the Curriculum. To relearn previous learning, the enlightened must follow the instruction “having grasped the first principle, it can again descend, by keeping to the consequences that follow from it, to a conclusion” (511b). Philosophy, then, is a critical and corrective enterprise to free knowledge from unexamined assumptions. Even mathematical hypotheses—such as the Form of square for all square objects—must be critically reexamined to see whether any fundamental premises lay beyond them. As the first intellectual assignment, Plato asks a dialectician to become a ruler for his “fellow men” still imprisoned in the cave. Certainly intellectualism and politics are two different careers; so how is it possible to manage the two in a single life?6 The same tension exists for Ge Hong, who wants to seek immortality and to be involved in politics. Is a person really torn apart by two divergent currents? For Ge Hong, politics is really the public life of one who has attained inner transformation. In his words, “having known the way to govern the body, then one can govern the state” (IC 326). For Plato the same relation of inner wisdom and outer power is also identifiable. If politics is understood as the public life of a philosopher, then his penetrating intellect and supreme vision shall greatly assist him in ruling. Inner wisdom and outer power are two sides of the same identity of Plato’s philosopher-king. A philosopher who takes

102

textual studies

no practical action is only an intellectual, not a philosopher. To be a philosopher, the wisest must approach politics as “an unavoidable necessity” (520e). He has the ethical responsibility of transforming personal wisdom into national endowment. To do so, he shall first personify the Good by living with it and then practice it by drawing “all who see it into its service.” 7 The government that he assembles is the community of guardians who share the vision of the good. The mission in which he engages is to define moral principles to sustain a good society. Legislation that the government wishes to establish aims “to unite all citizens” under laws and to make each person “a link in the unity of the whole” (520a). The key to incarnating the ideal Good into the common good of the citizens is something that is fundamental in each individual. It is not Spartan power, nor oligarchic wealth, nor Athenian equality, but Socratic virtue. Hence politics is not based on the principle of securing power or distributing power, but on morality. Plato believes that the ideal state will be achievable when each citizen personifies the Good at his or her level of the social hierarchy and lives morally and justly. Politics is morality. This is perhaps Plato’s most influential idea other than the doctrine of Forms. Throughout history many generations have asked a similar question: would this vision of a good society—a utopian state called a Republic—ever be actualized on earth? Nonetheless many lessons of politics come back to the same passage in the Republic. The book has not just created an ideal society or viewed the earth as merely a shadowy reality of the eternal world, but also promotes the principle of goodness as the base of sustainable social orders. The discourse throughout the Republic explains lesser forms of social organization in terms of a failure of the better. Plato holds this beacon of morality to the end, when he comes to his conclusion. He says, “But it doesn’t matter whether it exists or ever will exist” (592b). Perhaps, even though the republic of the Good is unachievable on earth, for Plato nothing could destroy the power of the Good in the mind of the philosopher-king. If he could not actualize it on earth, he would turn his eyes toward the heavens, where the Good really belongs. As Augustine later depicted, the vision of the Good and the perfect society could not truly converge and become an earthly reality, but would be established as an eschatological synthesis in the City of God.

Summary The investigation of Plato’s one over many begins with his answer to the pre-Socratic OM debate. The textual study in this chapter has looked at



two forms of enlightenment103

various passages mainly in the Republic to understand the theory of Forms that defined ontology in degrees. The study has had only one aim: to identify the antithesis of transcendence and immanence. This is an ontological problem that Plato hoped to resolve through the doctrine of Forms but also intensifies the tension through the one over many structure of Forms. The second part of the chapter has followed Plato’s intellectual ladder, reached the summit, and identified the idea of the Good. It represents the ontological cause of Forms and the epistemological state of enlightenment. But the Good in itself is the one and the many problem. The problem appears to be an epistemological difficulty in having a knowledge path between the mind and Forms. The difficulty is really ontological. According to the one over many structure, the Form of Good will be the determinate cause of multiple Forms. The epistemological question is whether the one Form above all Forms is still in the reach of reason. If the Good is the cause of all Forms, then this “wholly other” strictly speaking cannot be called one of many Forms in the way that it has been frequently named (even by Plato). Something about this “wholly other” must be fundamentally different from the rest of Forms because of the distinction between the creator and the created. Glaucon concludes after Socrates’ speech on the Good, “It really must be miraculously transcendent” (509c). If so, what is the inner being of the Good? Even though the Good is ambiguous, it remains Plato’s grand philosophical vision. It has profound ethical implications. The Good does not only represent the personal enlightenment of a philosopher, but also an ethical good for politics and social organization. Because of the positioning of the supreme One Good over many Forms, the one over many geometrical hierarchy sets itself up as contrary to the Daoist biological model of “one within many.” The content of Platonic Good is the timeless order of republican society ruled by philosopher-kings, whereas for Ge Hong the longevity of a person and the longevity of a dynasty are akin, namely, to be in accordance with the Dao.

chapter 6

Ge Hong’s Doctrine of Immortal Beings

During the Western Han (202 BC–AD 9), a dynasty before Ge Hong, there was a widespread belief in the existence of immortals. Archaeological evidence discovered over the last few decades has revealed a belief in immortality expressed in art and iconography with strong cosmological symbolism in pre-Buddhist China.1 The hope for immortality was mainly focused on the subjects of death, burial ceremonies, and the theology of postmortal existence. Contrary to the belief in life after death, one of Ge Hong’s obscure arguments is his “life without death” doctrine. His Shenxian zhuan 神仙傳 represents a different way to express the belief in the existence of immortals and resembles the biographical genre of the Liexian zhuan 列仙 傳 by Liu Xiang 劉向 (77 BC–AD 6?). The Inner Chapters contains Ge Hong’s attempt to systematize these beliefs in immortality, to defend them against their detractors, and to insist on their core value for his tradition. In the second chapter, “On Immortality” (lunxian 論仙), he argues that physical immortality is possible. In two alchemical chapters, “Golden Elixirs” (jindan 金丹) and “Yellow White” (huangbai 黃白), he reveals his unshaken faith that physical immortality can be attained through the practice of instrumental alchemy. In the eighteenth chapter, “Earthly Truth” (dizhen 地真), he builds his ethics and political philosophy on the basis of these beliefs. These writings formulate Ge Hong’s doctrine of immortal beings. On the one hand, it insists that suffering and death can be avoided. On the other hand, it forms an ethical platform upon which he presents his religious ethics by defining what life is and how it ought to be lived.

Immortality: A Hermeneutical Problem Why does Ge Hong place ethics within the framework of seeking immortal life and value life from the perspective of immortality? The whole doctrine could be subject to attack since physical immortality might be a weak basis on which to build ethics and politics. To gain a more comprehensive understanding of what he means by “immortal beings” (shenxian 神仙) requires a close reading of the texts. 104



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings105

Comparisons with Western Concepts The class of immortal beings is closely associated with the term “immortal life” (changsheng 長生). The term is widely used throughout the Inner Chapters (see Table 6.1). By looking at the three main chapters on the methods of attaining immortal existence, a broad range of meanings can be glimpsed. From Table 6.1 it is evident that the term changsheng does not just denote longevity, but also suggests the sort of existence that surpasses death. The term does not indicate any distinction between longevity and immortality. But the word “long” (chang 長) expresses the meaning of “continuous.” Against a cosmogonical background, to be continuous does not just refer to the continuation of a natural life, but also to the continuity of the genealogical process of Nature. For example, the term “long life and forever seeing” is used in a context that refers to an everlasting existence, which carries the same meaning as the term “long life without death.” “The Dao of xian-hood and long life” and “the Dao of long life” both indicate an active life that attains permanent unity with the Dao and becomes a part of the unfolding creativity of Dao. Thus “long life” means continuous life or an unlimited extension of life. The best English translation is immortal life or immortality. In the Inner Chapters, Ge Hong uses “long life” 109 times but only uses “longevity” (changshou 長壽) once for describing animals with a long natural life, such as the turtle (IC 47).2 Contrary to “long life,” which evidently refers to unlimited life, the word “advanced age” (shou 壽) is quantifiable and finite. In the majority of instances where the word is used, it is a­ ssociated with the annual cycle of time, namely, the year.3 There-

Table 6.1.  Various uses of the term “immortal life” (changsheng 長生) English

Chinese Pinyin Reference

Long life and forever seeing

長生久視

changsheng jiushi

IC 3, 47

Long life in the world

長生世間

changsheng shijian

IC 4, 76

The Dao of xian-hood and long life

仙道長生

xiandao changsheng

IC 3, 47

Long life without death

長生不死

changsheng busi

IC 4, 78

The Dao of long life

長生之道

changsheng zhidao

IC 3, 73

tongshen changsheng

IC 11, 205

Communicating with spirits/gods 通神長生 and long life

106

textual studies

fore, there is a distinction in Ge Hong’s writings between immortality and longevity. The former is unlimited existence, whereas the latter is a natural process. Long-lived people can still die, just as a long-lived turtle or a thousand-year-old pine tree can still perish. Even though longevity could turn into immortality, it is a lower form of existence. Longevity can be managed by cultivating natural life (yangsheng 養生) (IC 73), whereas immortality can only be attained through alchemy (IC 70). But longevity is a necessary step toward immortality that no one can bypass. To compare these ideas with the Platonic immortal soul and Christian eternal life, three comparative points could be made. Daoist immortal life is neither a “life after death” in which the disembodied soul continues to exist beyond death, as Plato has portrayed in the myth of Er (Republic, book 10), nor is it a “life over death,” as in the resurrection of Christ, that proclaims the eternal life comes as God’s victory over death, rather it is a “life without death” in that the existing life attains an unlimited extension.

The doctrinal importance of Daoist immortal life can also be expressed through comparisons. If, without the doctrine of the soul, the Platonic intelligible world of Forms would not be accessible to human minds, and if, without the resurrection of Christ, there would be no personal salvation or eschatological salvation of the general resurrection of the dead, then for Ge Hong Daoism stands or falls on the central belief in the existence and attainability of immortal life. Hermeneutical Difficulties To say that the doctrine of immortals is central to Daoism does not entail that it is problem-free. Given the perception of finite life as defined by modern biology, people reject the belief of immortality. In a world influenced by postenlightenment rationalism, Ge Hong’s physical immortality, Plato’s psychological immortality, and Christ’s resurrection belong to ancient dreams mythologized by religions. Immortality is a biological, medical, and ethical problem. The problem is not new. “If life has a beginning, it should also have an end” (IC 12). Ge Hong understood and addressed this criticism. Although he did not solve the problem of finite existence, the basis of modern biology, his arguments remain inspirational. Compared with Daoist physical immortality, it is easier for modern people to take the Platonic position



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings107

with its double-standard view of life, namely, the dichotomy of a perishable body and an imperishable soul. Because psychological immortality is situated outside the scope of biology in an otherworldly realm, it cannot be proven nor disproved. At the same time, biology mainly defines the body in terms of physiology and anatomy, that is, sciences were developed out of the knowledge of the dead corpse, in which the body-soul dichotomy is nonexistent. Compared with Daoist beliefs, people in the West are more accustomed to accept the resurrection as a matter of faith because of Christian influence in the world. This does not mean that the resurrection is not a biological problem. If we turn our attention away from the biological problem and consider medical practices such as genetic cloning, freezing of the body prior to biological death, and even the widespread practice of organ transplantation, isn’t the ancient dream of physical immortality still alive in the medical sciences? Is Darwinian evolution not also in a sense a form of physical immortality—life without beginning or ending? The development of the medical sciences has, in fact, pushed the boundary of life beyond the previous norm of individual biological existence. The so-called biological problem of physical immortality essentially works on the premise that the ending defines the process of life. Can life be defined by death? If so, it becomes an ethical problem. Can life be defined by physiology? If so, there is no need for meta-ethics to exist in philosophy and religious anthropology in religion. In Daoist studies physical immortality has been treated as a hermeneutical problem mainly because Daoist religious anthropology presents itself in contrast to the modern biological view of life. The problem basically comes down to two questions: “What does it mean?” and “What is it for?” There exists a hermeneutical barrier between the ancient and the modern understandings of life. On the one hand, the preoccupation with biological life has overcome the inertia of thought powered by postenlightenment rationalism to explore anthropology presented largely in irrational terms. On the other hand, a historical, cultural, and religious distance has limited the capacity of ancient beliefs to communicate with modern ethics. To rediscover ancient thought requires a particular approach. Here we must first acknowledge an influential thesis, then use a comparative approach to compare two arguments on immortality. In recent years, Li Gang 李剛 in his Daoist Philosophy in the Han Dynasty has put forward an influential thesis.4 Daoist immortality is not a religious answer to the phenomenon of death nor a life after death, but “a philosophy of life” (shengming zhexue 生命哲學).5 The ethical thesis does not only move away from a Marxist material interpretation of life, but also

108

textual studies

takes scholarship out of its preoccupation with Buddhist otherworldly transcendence and with the distinction between the Buddhist concept of the “other shore” (bi’an shijie 彼岸世界) and the Daoist idea of the “sphere of immortal beings” (shenxian jingjie 神仙境界). The otherworldly nirvana and this-worldly transformation set Buddhism and Daoism apart.6 Moreover, Li’s thesis creates a powerful synthesis between Confucian ethics and Daoist soteriology, which is particularly meaningful in the Chinese context. Subsequently his study has been closely followed and elaborated in Chinese scholarship.7 In his study on the Scripture on Eternal Peace, Li argues that immortal life is the highest form of ethical good, namely, “the heavens and the person becoming the One” (tianren heyi 天人合一). Thus, in his view, Daoist soteriology can be placed in a direct dialogue with Confucian ethics. As Li puts it, “In reality this philosophy of life is fundamentally a convergence of Confucian ethics and the Daoist Way of longevity.” 8 The public life of the immortals can be seen as being in agreement, rather than in conflict, with Confucian politics, namely, “inner virtue enabling outer ruling” (nei­ sheng weiwang 內聖外王). This principle of Zhuangzi, which Confucians historically also adopted, is the shared ground upon which the Confucian interest in public ruling and the Daoist emphasis on inner virtue can be mingled. Are Confucianism and Daoism closely associated in harmony, as Li has suggested? Ge Hong certainly tried to bring Confucian ethics into his religious Daoism. But he also saw deep confrontations between the two. On the one hand, like the Scripture on Eternal Peace, Ge Hong’s doctrine of immortals also has ethical implications. In the light of the principle of “heaven and the person becoming one,” Ge Hong also says “to mingle virtues with the Way of heaven and the earth” (yu tiandi hede 與天 地合德) (IC 16). Ge Hong’s life, recorded in his autobiographies—as a trained Confucian scholar immersed in politics in his early life, author of a book called Arts of War, and later a Daoist master who practiced medicine and alchemy—exemplifies a clear conversion from Confucianism to Daoism.9 Yet he argued against contemporary Confucians. His Outer Chapters ­present more criticism than praise for the society built upon Confucianism. In the Inner Chapters he clearly prioritizes Daoism over Confucianism. Confucians, according to Ge, attacked the belief in immortality as an illusion that tried to “grasp winds, catch shadows, seek unattainable things, and walk a nondestined path” (IC 13). Ge Hong’s arguments on immortality were written to counter those who rejected Daoist bodily enlightenment but preferred Confucian intellectual enlightenment (IC 136).



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings109

“Daoism is the origin of ten thousand streams, whereas Confucianism is the main stream feeding into the great current” (IC 138).10 Above all, he defines the relation of two traditions saying, “Daoism is fundamental, and Confucianism is derivative” (daoben rumo 道本儒末). On the basis of textual evidence, we can say that Li’s thesis has made Daoist immortality more meaningful to the modern mind, but it is not completely applicable to Ge Hong. To gain a full picture of Ge Hong’s central doctrine, we can continue to use the comparative method. On the one hand, by examining two sets of texts the distinction between Plato’s belief in the immortal soul and Ge Hong’s doctrine of the immortal body can be comprehended. On the other hand, the implication of Daoist religious anthropology can be viewed against Plato’s political philosophy.

Two Arguments on Immortality Plato’s Proof of the Immortal Soul Plato offered a series of arguments that carry a conviction of the immortality of the soul in the context of the highly charged Phaedo. The text is Plato’s recollection of Socrates’ last speech in prison before his pupils that led to the final moment when Socrates took charge of his life and drank the cup of hemlock. This great tragedy of Western history evokes a powerful sense of human dignity. But the dignity is closely associated with an ancient belief in the immortality of the soul. Taking his cue from the Orphic doctrine of rebirth, Plato says, “If that is true, that the living come back from the dead, then surely our souls must exist there” (70c). The doctrine is basically a circular argument. In the wheel of rebirth, the soul cannot perish, but only moves between the embodied and the disembodied states. Plato’s argument on immortality relies on this doctrine. (a) Death is the opposite of life, and sleeping is the opposite of ­awakening (71d). (b) Hot is the opposite of cold (71c). (c) [Since] things move from opposite to opposite (71a). (d) Therefore, death comes from life, and life comes from death (71e).

The argument has been carefully examined by Platonic scholars and has not survived critical attention.11 However, a Daoist perspective can shed further light on the body-soul issue.

110

textual studies

The first premise (a) is false. Sleeping and awakening are two opposites based on the continuation of being alive. But it is false to say death and life are opposites. In a Daoist view, living and being dead are not opposites because there is no continuity between them. Death is the discontinuation of life, and there is no continuity from death to life. In Ge Hong’s writing, there is no mention of rebirth and reincarnation. Plato relies on the doctrine of rebirth to assume that there is a continuation between death and life. But it is an assumption. Then Plato uses the continuity in (b) to justify the assumption. The second premise (b) is conditional. A cup of hot water can get cold. But hot and cold are varied temperatures of water. Cold does not generate hot, nor does death generate life. The conclusion (d) has only repeated the proposition on circular rebirth, which is an assumption to be proven, not a conclusion to be reached. Therefore, the argument is circular, and the conclusion is unjustified. Plato has not proven the immortality of the soul in the argument. Even in the Phaedo he is unsure as to whether he has produced proof or not. The idea of immortality, however, remains as a central motif in Plato’s psychology of ethics. Plato often signals that approximations and myths are the best we can hope for in these matters. Nevertheless, the soul’s homecoming to Reason is the overtone played out in various dialogues, such as the Crito, Gorgias, Meno, Phaedo, Republic, and Timaeus. It is Plato’s conviction that life is more than physical existence. The conviction is amplified in the story of Socrates’ death. Although Socrates accepted death, he refused to let his life be defined by the approach of death. Instead he envisioned that within human life there is something intrinsically divine and imperishable. This something is the soul, and it plays the same role as Daoist Qi. It carries the continuity between now and then, between the essence of human life and eternal Reason. Death can interrupt bodily life, but the continuity of Qi cannot be broken by it. The argument of the imperishable soul also implies that philosophers do not have a monopoly on this continuity; rather, the rational part of the soul is inborn in everyone. As an enlightened philosopher, Socrates fully activated reason in his mind and discovered its continuity with the cosmic logos. In comparison, ordinary people are not yet aware of this natural endowment and still seek happiness in appetitive desire, sexual passion, and ambition for power. As Socrates departed from his life, he was convinced that his earthly departure was also a homecoming to the realm of reason, the place of his soul’s true yearning and happiness. True happiness, like the Form of the Good, is not physical but immaterial, not worldly but otherworldly (79d).



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings111

Ge Hong’s Apologetics on Immortality Compared with Plato, Ge Hong has a similar conviction regarding immortality. In the second chapter, “On Immortals,” Ge Hong addresses a popular question stated in the first sentence: “Can one attain the belief [in the proposition] that gods and immortals do not die?” (IC 12).12 He then places the question in the context of creation and turns the question back on his opponents. “If there exist ten thousand kinds creation, and there exist things of all sorts, then why could not immortals exist?” (IC 12).13 This set of questioning and counter questioning captures the conflict between faith and doubt. Popular doubt was powered by Confucian skepticism about the supernatural, which denies the meaningfulness of the Daoist search for immortality. Among critical voices the most forceful criticism comes from Wang Chong, who also influenced Ge Hong on material empiricism. “If a thing has a beginning, then it must come to an end, and if life is real, death is also inevitable” (IC 12).14 Wang Chong’s materialism is both an inspiration for Ge Hong’s material view of life and a problem for his soteriology. Wang Chong argues that life is material because Qi is material. Ge Hong turns against materialism and argues that the genealogical continuity between inborn Qi and primordial Qi is not bound to material changes. Ge Hong does not directly reply to Wang Chong’s criticism, but names two assumptions upon which (he thinks) the criticisms are based. (A) Immortal life should be “perceptible” (jian 见) in the same way as the body. (B) Confucian ethics is the only acceptable norm of life.

To address the first assumption, Ge Hong argues that people mistakenly make an either/or judgment according to common sense. If immortals cannot be seen, they do not exist. If they exist, where are they (IC 13)? The counterarguments are not straightforwardly recognizable in Ge Hong’s text. Ge is not a progressive logician in the Greek sense. Unlike the Greeks, who employ logic as their chief tool, Ge Hong’s style of argument in the chapter “On Immortals” is typically nonprogressive and can even be called farfetched.15 The central question is whether Ge Hong wants to prove immortality or to defend his faith. If we look for proof, we will be disappointed. But if we read the text as an apologia, we may come closer to an understanding of Ge Hong’s religious anthropology. Many points can be reconstructed out of the text and presented in the

112

textual studies

style of syllogism that are not Aristotelian deductive arguments. To reconstruct Ge’s apologetics in the three-sentence style is mainly to highlight his arguments that apparently hide behind religious language. First, the criticism says: (A) If I can perceive something, it exists; if I cannot perceive it, it does not exist. (B) Immortals cannot be perceived. (C) Therefore, they do not exist.16

Is immortality dependent on perception? Attacking proposition A, Ge Hong argues, (A2)  Certain things and events are imperceptible. (B2)  But they either exist or did exist.

For instance, the Confucian Master is dead but did exist.17 (C3) Therefore, present perception is not the only criterion for existence.

With this argument, Ge Hong exposes the problematic proposition A and contradicts it with the conclusion of C3. If A is false, then C does not stand. Ge Hong’s argument from this point onwards becomes quite simple. He further explores the problem of common sense and argues that the believability of immortal beings cannot be judged under the criterion of regularity. By listing various things that are irregular in the midst of regular things, such as irregular seasonal changes, he further argues: (A3) Common sense cannot explain those irregular things, nor immortality for that matter.18 (B3) But irregular things do exist. (C3) So not all things can be judged by common sense.19

At this point, if his opponent accepts C3, the original criticism has no basis. This is the point that Ge Hong aims to establish. As he puts it, “It is not possible from short-sighted mundane perceptions to deduce the farreaching purpose of immortals” (IC 49).20 Are the above arguments sufficient to answer Wang Chong’s criticism? No, at least not directly. But the arguments service the apologetic purpose.



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings113

Wang Chong argues that death is unavoidable. Ge Hong’s soteriology seeks overall to defend his faith that death is avoidable. What Ge Hong’s arguments have done so far is to address the criterion of life. Immortal life is not ordinary life that is under the judgment of death. It requires an entirely different criterion, a criterion of life, to come to terms with the ethical implication of the belief. Death cannot define immortal life. Rather the belief in immortal life can become an inner flame to energize life at every step of life’s journey. If common sense cannot be the criterion, then soteriology should not be judged by it. Even if “death is unavoidable” is true for ordinary humans, it does not yield the conclusion that immortal life is impossible. All that Ge Hong has tried to do is to remove the logical connection between the inevitability of death and the impossibility of immortal life. The second assumption presupposes Confucian ethics as the authoritative way to view life. This is the issue of criterion of knowledge. In Ge Hong’s teasing words, “Since the book [of immortals] did not come out of the house of Zhougong and the Confucian master has not written anything about immortals, mundane people will always refuse to believe in them” (IC 16).21 Is Confucian orthodoxy the norm for Daoist religious ethics? Ge Hong moves from a defensive mode to an offensive one. And he argues, “Daoism is fundamental, Confucianism is derivative” (IC 184). The relationship between Daoism and Confucianism is redefined in terms of the causal relation of a priori and a posteriori. This is exactly how Wang Bi explained the relationship between Nothingness and Something, wu and you. Thus Ge Hong’s argument turns the issue of criterion upside down. Confucianism is well known for its emphasis on morality, politics, and social hierarchy. Within a Confucian society, individual life is primarily defined in terms of communal responsibility to maintain a functional social order; even the value of individual life can be sacrificed for a greater good, such as social stability or ritualized arrangements (keji fuli 克己復 禮). Within the social hierarchy sustained by the kingly qualities of rulers, the filial piety of offspring, and the obedience of servants, each individual life has a social status, which is believed to be predestined. The value of life is measured and ranked according to the individual’s status. For the rich, their official ranks, material wealth, and family succession are the yardsticks for a successful life. For the poor, accepting their social status, enduring hardship, laboring productively, and being intrepid before death are the appropriate virtues. As Hu Fuchen points out, the combination of kingship and the patriarchal system produces the most oppressive social structure. But Daoism is “the world’s most life endorsing religion.” 22 If we place Ge Hong’s argument within this social context, it is not difficult

114

textual studies

to understand why he attacks the Confucian criticism. It is a part of his apologetics. Instead of subordination to the common good, he argues for the liberty of individuals. Ge Hong’s counterattack is aimed at Wang Chong’s rationalism “if life is real, death is also unavoidable.” But the argument must not be understood as a rejection of Wang Chong’s materialism. In fact, instrumental alchemy largely agrees with Wang Chong’s materialism and empiricism. The point of dispute is the ethics of life. Ge Hong sees the criticism as an endorsement of a negative aspect of common belief, namely, fate. Wang Chong says: “A person’s fortune and adversity is predetermined by fate” (LH 1, 20). The idea of predestination, which morally justifies the social hierarchy, goes hand in hand with the degree of material prosperity (or poverty) among people. If death is inevitable, then it should be rationally accepted. Is life nothing but material? As a religion Daoism rejects the notion of material life but professes that material possessions and social statutes must not be seen as the measures of life and its value. Ge Hong insists that kingship cannot be traded for immortal life, but poor people can pursue it with diligence (IC 19). “To attain immortal life and cultivate its Dao, the secret is persistence, not personal possessions” (IC 17).23 Persistence in doing what? Ge replies, “My longevity and fate are matters in my own hands” (IC 15).24 And above all, can life be defined by death? If life is predestined for a particular social status, then there is no motivation for change. When people wholeheartedly accept the saying “If life is real, death is also unavoidable,” they are also compelled to accept that human life overall is a process of aging. If life is purely a bodily existence, then the degeneration process becomes an irreversible journey toward death. As Ge Hong alarmingly puts it: “Life on earth is shortened day by day. People are like a herd of oxen and sheep hurried to a slaughterhouse. Each step forward is a step closer to death” (IC 253).25 Whoever accepts this fate also accepts that death is not just simply a moment at the end, but the shadow that accompanies every moment of living. With the above argument, the existence of immortals is again not proven. What Ge Hong has done, however, is to use the tactic of disqualification. To write his apologetics, he did not use the tactic of direct proof, in which Plato engages. Rather, the arguments defend the proposition by disarming two assumptions upon which the criticism is based: “believing is the result of seeing” and “Confucian ethics is the norm for life.” It must be accepted that at the textual level the apologetics are not clearly presented as a convincing logical argument either. The above textual reconstruction has demonstrated two points. (1) If common sense cannot comprehend Daoist immortality, it is a matter of not knowing rather than so-called non-



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings115

existence. (2) If the Confucian consensus cannot grasp immortal life, then a new ethics needs to be introduced. Therefore, the main argument is quite straightforward. These two points have pushed the boundary of ethics.

Daoist S hen and X ian X i a n -hood The Biographies of Immortals (Shenxian zhuan 神仙傳) is the second most important source for understanding Ge Hong’s doctrine of immortals. The most thorough study in recent years is the book To Live as Long as Heaven and Earth: Ge Hong’s Traditions of Divine Transcendents by Robert Campany.26 Campany’s central motive is to read the genre of Daoist hagiography within its original anthropological and historical context. To interpret the text and understand the context of the stories requires modern readers to place the book against its social-historical background. Through this method, the book opens “rare windows” onto the religious and social world of Ge Hong’s audience, where the stories of the immortals were both descriptive “models of ” and prescriptive “models for” religious life.27 Behind sophisticated social-historical studies, there is an insightful thesis, which I call “immortal life as religious life.” Within the overall framework of anthropology that keeps the interpretation of immortals within a defined historical window Campany’s textual criticism has demonstrated its strength to unearth aspects of Daoism represented by the hagiography. Campany’s method is basically Ge Hong’s. Instead of bringing the past to the present, Campany transports modern minds to the ancient past in order to hear the legendary stories that Ge Hong once told his audiences. Compared with the original text of less than forty pages, the reconstructed stories require over six hundred pages to cover the sociohistorical bases. Campany’s argument is especially significant in that it corrects some misconceptions in Sinology.28 Campany identifies the following misconceptions: (1) There is a problem of projection that reads Ge Hong’s “socially immanent transcendents” through more divinely characterized immortals belonging to later periods. (2) Approaching hagiography as “protofiction” ignores the original values and assumptions that reveal actual social and historical meanings. (3) “The strange phenomena in need of explanation” tend to secularize and rationalize Chinese religious thought in a way that is friendly to post-Enlightenment thinking. (4) “Widespread ignorance of Daoist religious tradition” treats hagiography as merely metaphorical. On the central concept of xian 仙, Campany argues, on the one hand,

116

textual studies

that this unparalleled term in English should be freed from Western dichotomist ideas of time/eternity, death/immortality, human/divine, natural/supernatural, and this world/the next world. On the other hand, he indicates that his English translation “transcendent,” which is used as a noun, denotes “neither a once-and-for-all immortality nor an escape from time and change into an eternal stasis,” but reflects the hierarchy of beings that historical adepts “have ascended to links in the chain higher than those occupied by even the best human beings.” 29 The translation of xian as “transcendent” follows a trend in recent scholarship that prefers “transcendent” over the common translation of “immortal.” 30 Even though Campany recognizes that many shenxian are “socially immanent transcendents,” 31 the translation “transcendent” is nonetheless misleading. I argue that the term “transcendents” is too Platonic to be Daoist. The term “transcendent” carries the misleading meanings of “going beyond” and “ascendance over.” And it promotes the motif of departure to a transcendental realm where a person has been transfigured into a divine being. It is true that in the xian literature the idea of “ascending” can be found in many biographies, especially the motif of going up to heaven in broad daylight. But the question is what kind of transformation Daoism envisions. Is it a spatial ascending from the physical to the metaphysical world? Or is it a chronological return, as we will see shortly? In Campany’s “transcendent” the motif of “ascending” is similar to the biblical imagery of the transfiguration of Christ. Indeed the genre of hagiography appears to be akin to Christian hagiographical tradition. Although Campany accepts that there is no transcendence without the body in Daoism, this term still implies the departure of the “dead” to an otherworldly eternity, just like Christian saints in the eternal presence of God. The unspoken Western consciousness in the translation provokes a further problem. How is it possible to solve the apparent contradiction between transcendence and immanence? If Daoist “saints” are both “models of ” and “models for” religious life, the key question is whether the “ascending” over normal humanity points only to a transcendental departure to a higher order of beings or indicates simultaneously a motif of immanent connection to ordinary life, in particular the involvement of those adepts in social affairs. The question is ethical, not theological. Without immanence, how could the “transcendents” be the personified Ways of Dao? Christian saints dwell in the eternal life of God, but the immortals are humans who have formed a permanent bond with Nature. Nature is not a transitory phenomenon compared with God’s eternity, but rather a bodily vessel into which Dao awakens itself. The simplest example is the Chinese character xian: “仙 = 人 + 山.” 32 The word joins a person on the left and a mountain on the right. A xian, there-



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings117

fore, is natural not transnatural or supernatural. Alchemical evolution of the body is not a sanctified departure of the spirit. The class of xian are the direct beneficiaries of Dao’s endowment in Nature. My disagreement with Campany further points to a philosophical problem embedded in his “religious life” thesis. Campany has persistently divorced his study from philosophy and treats Ge Hong merely as a religious thinker of no philosophical interest.33 This separation of religion from philosophy should be rejected. Ge Hong’s Inner Chapters clearly reflect that his thought belonged to the Wei-Jin period, when religion and philosophy were intermingled. Although his project has assisted in the understanding of religious life at this period, with his sole interest in religious life Campany has unconsciously, or perhaps consciously, kept religion and philosophy apart. Hence Ge Hong’s philosophy coded in religious language has been overlooked. Campany’s concentration on just one of Ge Hong’s works naturally leads him to this conclusion. The Inner Chapters should be understood in light of Ge Hong’s other writings, such as the Outer Chapters and the “Astronomical Treatises” in the Jinshu 晋书, as I have done. Moreover, the comparison with Plato and the OM problem enables me to place the philosophical side of the Inner Chapters in clear relief. Four Modes of Immortal Existence Ge Hong has not explicitly developed a hierarchical structure of immortal beings similar to Plato’s four ontological degrees and four statuses of the mind. The only classification is a three-degree distinction: “The upper ranked immortals dwell in celestial palaces; the middle ranked gather in Kunlun Mountain; the low ranked forever live among ordinary people” (IC 76). These ranks correspond to three classic categories of Nature: heavenly, earthly, and human. Immortals are not divided into three degrees of transcendence. But more like three ranks of officials in a state, their existence spreads across the world by forming a bond with Nature. From various parts of Ge Hong’s writings, we can extrapolate four models of immortal existence. Although Ge Hong has not given them specific terms, we can name them as primordial gods (tianran shen 天然神), natural gods (ziran shen 自然神), immortal beings (xianren 仙人), and humans with longevity (shouren 壽人).

Primordial Gods Only three primordial gods are mentioned in Ge Hong’s writings. The Book inside the Pillow (Zhenzhong shu 枕中書) says, “The Heavenly Lord of the Primordial Beginning 元始天王 already existed as the vigor of the precosmos.” 34 The text indicates that Ge Hong had the highest deity in

118

textual studies

mind when he wrote a version of theogony echoing Xuan—the grand ancestor—in his cosmogony in the Inner Chapters. The primordial god is ungenerated but is a self-generating god who predates the world coming into existence. In the Inner Chapters, he also mentions another superior deity. “The Primordial Master (Yuanjun 元君) is the master of Laozi. . . . He is the man with the greatest immortal nature. . . . All natural gods in the world are subjected to his superiority” (IC 76).35 The primordial god is ranked above the created natural gods. Even the best of all humans—Laozi—had learned from him. The third deity comes from the first chapter of the Biographies. “The ancient Master of Formlessness (Xuao Ruoshi 虛敖若士) . . . dwelled in the realm beyond the light generated by the sun and the moon, yet the stars floated upon it. . . . Above it there is no sky, under it no land.” Like the previous two, the Master of Formlessness transcends light and stars, and there is nothing beyond its formless and limitless breadth. All three primordial gods have no form, but the whole world is their body. Compared with later traditions, Ge Hong never conceptualized the highest deity in terms of the trinity the Three Pure Ones (sanqing 三清). The relationship among primordial gods remains ambiguous. The figure of Laozi in Ge Hong’s writing was divinized and in later times transfigured into the Heavenly Worthy of Dao and Virtues 道德天尊, the third primordial god in the “three-one” community that also included the Lord of Primordial Beginning 元始天尊 and the Lord of Numinous Treasure 靈 寶天尊 (see Figure 6.1). But for Ge Hong, Laozi was one of the immortal beings who were born in human form and later attained immortality. “The ancestor Peng 彭祖 and Laozi were humans, not different beings [from us]. The reason for their extraordinary longevity is attaining Dao; it was not inborn” (IC 46).36 Another remarkable feature is that Ge Hong places the primordial gods on a scale of genealogical “time” instead of the hierarchy of transcendental “space.” In later traditions, the Buddhist Three Realms (sanjie 三界) had a strong influence on the hierarchy of the celestial, the human, and the demonic beings. But the subordination was absent in the early Daoism represented by Ge Hong. He frequently speaks about the gods as genealogical ancestors in the time of “high antiquity” (shanggu 上古). Even though they possess primordial status in his doctrine of immortals, cosmogony is far stronger than theogony. They are visible forms of the invisible Dao and play out cosmogony in human fashion. Thus, their primordiality does not suggest absolute transcendence but genealogical priority. And Daoist biographies are not arranged according to the rank of spatial transcendence, but on a scale of time. This is the exactly the order of one and many.



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings119

Natural Gods Daoists believe that gods dwell in the midst of the myriad things. Contrary to the primordial gods who existed prior to creation, natural gods came to existence together with the created world. Natural gods often refer to celestial gods who are generated to maintain the celestial order. The sun, the moon, the Twenty-Eight Constellations, and the five planets are the bodies of those natural gods. For instance, among fifteen polar stars in the Purple Palace (zigong 紫宮), the first one, where “the son of heaven” permanently dwells, is called ziwei 紫微 (AT 290). Even time is turned by sixty natural gods. Each god represents a defining point in a sixty-year cycle (see Figures 6.2, 6.3). Similar to the gods of Greek mythology, Daoist natural gods all have anthropomorphic representations. But unlike Greek gods, who do not necessarily possess physical form, each Daoist natural god takes a unique celestial body and occupies a permanent time-space location. And the body (astral, planetary, and human) is closely associated with this timespace location. Here is another issue with great philosophical significance. Time is not an independent concept, but relates to space as well. Without spatial characteristics, the gods of the Twenty-Eight Constellations cannot define four sections of celestial time. I will come back to this point in the study of Ge Hong’s alchemical universe. In Ge Hong’s doctrine of immortals, natural gods are less frequently mentioned in celestial context, but they do appear in internal cultivation. The Preservation of the One involves an inward journey to meet internal gods. The aim of the cultivation is to realize that the internal gods in the physiological environment are beings consubstantial with those of the celestial world. As we have seen already, this distinctive feature of “innerouter correspondence” derived from the medical tradition represented by the Huangting jing 黄庭经. The free movements of the gods between two environments create a “river” to channel the flow of Qi, hence closing the distance between the body, on the one hand, and the cosmos and its energies, on the other. Having attained this level of realization, the adept empties his body and adopts the cosmos as his body, so his bodily transformation actually ensures that the body and the spirit can form an unbreakable bond. This permanent unity is celestial, since the natural gods never leave their celestial bodies behind. Likewise, the adept will always flow with the course of Nature, just as natural gods will always rely on Qi to empower their activities and to ensure that the myriad things can have the natural environment to exist. Natural gods all have their created beginning but no

120

textual studies

teleological ending. If the adept can join this community, there is immortality. To attain non-ageing status means to abide in the natural flow that always changes. Another group of natural gods is the earthly ones. “Mountains regardless of whether they are large or small have indwelling gods” (IC 299).37 Mountain gods can cause both good and evil, just as water can either float a ship or sink it. To conduct alchemical practice in a selected mountain site, alchemists usually bring various talismans to protect themselves from demonic influences and to seek guidance from mountain gods. Ge Hong has recorded various talismans derived from two inherited texts: the Scripture of Numinous Treasure (Lingbao jing 靈寶經) and the True Forms of the Five Marchmounts (Wuyue zhenxing tu 五嶽真形圖) (IC 302–314). Some talismans perform a function similar to a modern map with contour lines to give directions and guidance to hikers. In the Ge Hong context, these talismans represent the pulses of living mountains to indicate the flow



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings121

Fig. 6.1 (left and facing page).  The Three Pure Ones in later Daoist iconography: The Lord of the Primordial Beginning 元始天王 (left); The Lord of Numinous Treasure 靈寶天尊 (middle); The Lord of Dao-Way 道德天尊 (right). (Reproduced by permission of the Chinese Daoist Association from Zhongguo Daojiao Xiehui, ed., Daojiao shenxian huaji [Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe, 1995], 2, 4, 6)

of natural forces, similar to pulses in the human body that Chinese doctors use to diagnose internal conditions. They are the means to communicate with mountain gods and to seek secure paths in a dangerous environment (see Figure 6.4). Similar to celestial gods, mountain gods on earth represent fundamental forces of Nature. Alchemists always sought ways to go with Nature rather against it. Before conducting instrumental alchemy, the preparation also involves a ritual to invoke mountain gods and local earth gods to bless and participate in the alchemical practice (IC 74).

Immortal Humans Most of the immortals in Ge Hong’s Biographies belong to the category of immortal humans. Unlike natural gods who take celestial and earthly entities as their bodily forms, immortals are born in human form. Almost all immortals in the Biographies were historical figures. They include Laozi and the Master of the Upper Stream 河上公, the early commentator on the

122

textual studies

Fig. 6.2 (above and facing page). The natural gods of the Twenty-Eight Constellations. (Reproduced by permission of the Chinese Daoist Association from Zhongguo Daojiao Xiehui, ed., Daojiao shenxian huaji [Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe, 1995], 60)

Laozi. Some immortals lived several centuries earlier than Ge Hong: the founder of the Daoist movement (Zhang Daoling 張道陵), the prince of Liu An 劉安, the Mohist Master (Mozi 墨子). Some belonged to the tradition of alchemy, such as the pioneer of theoretical alchemy Wei Boyang 魏 伯陽, and three alchemists of Ge Hong’s family tradition. These adepts were born in ordinary human form but lived extraordinary lives. They did not only contribute their wisdom to the great knowledge of Dao, but also practiced the Dao and lived out the Way through their lives. The living stories of historical persons in the genre of hagiography represents a strong sense of the incarnation of Dao in human lives. Later artists also carried the persistent humanism and portrayed them in primarily human form (see Figure 6.5). Their immortal attributes were



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings123

humbly concealed in their humanity yet radiated inside out through virtues. Common characteristics of these figures are prolonged bodily life and longevity extending beyond death into immortality. Immortals live a life unbound by death. As Ge Hong points out in the hagiography of Laozi, his prolongation is achieved through the act of emptying his identity into the plurality of the cosmos so that he “can change spontaneously with Qi, just as most of the adepts do in this age” (Biographies, chapter 3). The changing physical universe absorbs Qi to attain existence upon which death has no effect. Viewed against the cosmic background, Daoist immortality is really about the permanent bond of the body and the spirit, and the lift that is empowered by Qi and changes with it. This is the consistent soteriology that underlies all immortal humans (xianren 仙人). In the likeness of natural gods, their bodies have no definite ending, only an open-ended process of evolution. Their immortal existence does not leave their finite body behind, but carries the original body by trans-

124

textual studies

Fig. 6.3.  The Sixty Primordial Asterisms. Before adopting the Western calendar, the ancient Chinese used a sixty-year calendar cycle. These male and female immortals are believed to be responsible for the turning of cyclical time. (Reproduced by permission of the Chinese Daoist Association from Zhongguo Daojiao Xiehui, ed., Daojiao shenxian huaji [Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe, 1995], 70)

forming it into the vessel to carry Qi with an indefinite continuation. The many stories of immortal existences reflect the large and collective story of cosmic creativity. Contrary to the abstract doctrine of Xuan Dao, the hagiographies exhibit more humanistic and conceptually more accessible portraits. The stories of the immortals are the collective story of the Dao and fundamentally one and many in kind. Instead of arguing Dao’s universal creativity, the Biographies call people to follow the footsteps of the



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings125

Fig. 6.4.  Two groups of talismans. In the chapter “Climbing and Wading” Ge Hong unveils the sacred inscriptions that are used to enter into unfamiliar mountain routes. (Rewritten in calligraphy by the author from the original in the Inner Chapters 309, 11)

historical adepts and to preserve the creative Qi in their bodily lives so that they too may become living examples of Dao. The liberation of the spirit and the prolongation of the body together form the collective story of the reality of the One, in which no distinction of the body and the spirit can be drawn at the primordial level. Another remarkable feature of immortal humans is that of socially immanent beings. Ge Hong makes the point vividly in the hagiography of the Master of Whitestone 白石先生 (Biographies, chapter 2, 1). The immortal appeared to be in no hurry to make his ascension. Others asked him why. He replied, “How can one assume that heaven is a happier place than the realm of humans?” Social immanency is expressed through parables of miracles with which the immortals are associated. Ge Hong recalled the story of Zhang Daoling 張道陵 of the Eastern Han period. Zhang was the founder of organized Daoist movement known as the Religion of Five Measures of Rice (wudoumi dao 五斗米道). Zhang had “over ten thousand followers” who all contributed personal possessions, including five measures of rice, to be used “to build bridges and roads.” But what really made people flock to him was his knowledge of how to heal the sick, and “the arts of longevity” (Biographies, chapter 4, 3). With respect to the five female immortals mentioned in chapter 7, Ge

A

B

C

D

E

F

Fig. 6.5.  Some of the immortals portrayed in Ming dynasty woodcuts by Wang Shizhen 王世貞 (1526–1593), selected to illustrate the persistent humanism in Ge Hong’s hagiographical tradition. The names of the adepts are a, Laozi 老 子; b, the Ancestor Peng 彭祖; c, the Master of Accomplishments 廣成子; d, the Lady Xuan 太玄女; e, the Master of Whitestone 白石先生; f, the prince of Liu An 劉安; g, Wei Boyang 魏伯陽 and Yu Sheng 虞生; h, Zhang Daoling 張道陵; i, Fei Changsheng 費長生 and the Pot Master 壺公; j, Ma Gu 麻姑, Wang Yuan 王遠 and Cai Jing 蔡經; and k, Ge Xuan 葛玄. The images are modern reproductions of the Ming versions in Youxiang liexian quanzhuan 有象列仙全传 (1783). (Courtesy of Hebei Meishu Chubanshe; reprinted from Wang Shizhen, Liexian quanzhuan [Shijiazhuang: Hebei meishu chubanshe, 1996], 1, 20, 9, 44, 54, 61, 83, 84, 100, 99, 104)



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings127

G

H

J

K

I

Hong mainly portrays them as miracle workers. The Lady of Taixuan 太玄 女 was born with birth defects and was predicted to have a short life. But she was determined to learn from a wandering adept and attain the Way of longevity (changsheng zhi dao 長生之道). In return, she performed many healing works for others. An eighteen-year-old girl called Fairy Ma (magu 麻姑) taught a moral lesson to the adepts Wang Yuan 王遠 and Cai Jing 蔡 經 in the golden age. Miracles are not shows but must have a functional purpose to help others. She demonstrated it by transforming spilled rice into pearls and turning a pacifying stick (for Cai to scratch his itchy back) into a whip to teach his male counterpart a hard lesson. Madam Fan 樊

128

textual studies

夫人, who knew arts of change, brought many years of prosperity to the county under her husband’s rule.

Long-Lived Humans Those who have attained long life are only beginners on the soteriological journey. But they can still die. Ge Hong calls them “those who have entered the path of Dao” (rudaozhe 入道者). In the hagiography of Master Peng, a distinction between immortal humans and long-lived humans is drawn. Immortal humans are those who “ingest primordial Qi for nourishment” and “have transformed their original identity by the means of preserving the changing Qi.” On the contrary, longevity refers to those humans who “eat pure food, dress in simple clothes, communicate with Yin-Yang, and are involved in social governance.” “Every one has the inborn Qi, but this group, although they do not know Daoist arts, have lived appropriately. So it is not unusual to see people of one hundred twenty years of age.” Having said this, Ge Hong points out that “they cannot attain immortality” (chapter 1, 4). The distinction between the two is basically the difference between immortality and longevity. They are not equal, but overlapping. Longevity still has a limited end conditioned by death. Immortality is the extension of longevity with no definite ending. The central difference between the two rests in the transformation of the original body. Immortals have turned the body inside out by preserving life permanently within, whereas long-lived humans have not changed the natural process of aging during which the bond of the body and inborn Qi is increasingly loosened. The two kinds of body also require different food. Immortals can practice the way of living without grain foods. The practice of abstaining from grains is traditionally called bigu 避穀.38 As natural gods draw energy from the universal Qi, immortals draw nourishment directly from Nature literally by eating Qi. On the contrary, humans do not know the arts of preservation and still rely on ordinary food to sustain the body. For Ge Hong, longevity is the best that humans can achieve within a normal course of life. It can be managed by medicine. Ge Hong’s medical approach includes physical exercise, dietary regulation, emotional selfcare, sexual arts, controlled release of reproductive energy, and prevention of illness. Immortality, however, can only be obtained through alchemical means. Among the four degrees of soteriology, it is clear that the state of longevity ranked as the lowest. Within mainstream Daoist traditions, however, the adepts never seek any shortcut to bypass longevity in order to arrive at immortality. Immortality is a religious life that begins with daily living, and longevity is a style that builds upon those habits. “Manag-



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings129

ing the body and nourishing life requires extreme attention to the finest details. One cannot neglect small exercises because they bring out small benefits, nor can one forget illness prevention because small sicknesses do not bring great harm immediately” (IC 240).39 Because the body-spirit bond requires both the “house” and its “occupant,” daily nourishment to the body is a necessary way of life to produce the health that becomes the physical foundation upon which the inside-out transformation might possibly be constructed.

Many Becoming One Behind the four soteriological modes, there is a hidden OM argument. The modes are directly in proportion to the closeness of the many to the One. The primordial gods are genealogically the closest to the precosmos, in which the only nameable identity is formlessness. Natural gods come together with the universe during the materialization process of Qi. Their immortal life represents the timeless existence of navigational stars, moving planets, and the sixty-year cycle of time. They are materialized Dao on an astronomical scale, possessing the same Qi as heterogeneous bodies, which are irreducible to each other. Immortal humans are the personified Dao. They are ordinary humans with extraordinary lives. Unlike in the degenerative process of ageing, these humans have reversed the order of creation and turned the cosmogonical process from the One to the many into a soteriological path from the many to the One. Although they all have preserved the same Qi, as the hagiographies of individual immortals have shown, they still maintain individualities exemplified by their different bodies. Thus the return to primordiality does not cause their heterogeneous personalities to collapse into the homogeneity of the One. In fact, the One is diversified by the many. What the One has incarnated into the inborn Qi cannot be undone. This is the natural order of creation. But human bodies can harbor this inborn vitality. Closeness to primordiality can be schematized as shown below. The diagram demonstrates that genealogy and soteriology are related. They appear to be two aspects of the one and many running in opposite directions. If we join the two ends indicated as “One” and “many” together, the upper half and the lower half actually form a cycle of change. They are two forms of alchemical change, genealogical in the natural world and soteriological in human life, as the diagram at the end of Chapter 3 has shown (Figure 3.4). The most important feature of the diagram below is the correspondence of cosmogony and soteriology. Cosmogony is shown

130

textual studies

in the direction of the forward arrow. It indicates the evolving nature of the world and thus is labeled “Genealogical OM of Nature.” Soteriology is indicated by the arrow pointing in the opposite direction. It refers to the path of Daoist search for immortal life and is called “Soteriological OM of humanity.” In the language of the one and the many, these two arrows designate two movements “from one to many” and “from many to one.”

One may ask what these movements really are in less metaphysical language. The answer is time. The arrows are the material form of time. Unlike modern linear time, time is cyclical in Daoism. Unlike modern abstract time, the Daoist concept of time is concrete. And time is filled with material things, not transcendent and abstract ideas. Both material time and cyclic time become central in Ge Hong’s instrumental alchemy. Here we encounter the genealogical feature of time. Time is measured by recorded generations with real names and historical circumstances, including Ge Hong’s hagiographical tradition. Chinese genealogy is not just a record of ancestry, but also a process of generation and transformation of that ancestry, an unfolding time with nameable individuals. This time is also bidirectional. Life comes out of formlessness, and this is also the point of eternal return. Ordinary life and immortal life are not two different kinds of life, yet there is only one bodily life. Within humanity, there is the natural endowment of Qi that makes the continuation possible. Qi is capable of being evoked. Within the cosmos, there is also the same cosmic potency that unites natural gods into one life beyond their plural and irreducible existences. The more thought-provoking question is this: what is the continuity that penetrates the discontinuity of humans and Nature? For Ge Hong, it is the ontological life that springs out of the inner being of Xuan-One and actualizes itself into the genealogical tree— the plurality of the world—with the single evolutionary life. This life is ontologically immortal.



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings131

Ge Hong’s Ontoethics: A Comparative View Plato and Ge Hong have a shared idea of intellectual homecoming to the origin of the world. But the object of return is comparatively different. In Plato’s metaethics the soul seeks its ultimate conformity with the logos of the world. Ge Hong’s ontoethics involves a return to the most original life. Further comparison requires a better understanding of Plato’s doctrine of the soul. As seen earlier, Plato’s intellectual homecoming is the elevation of the mind to the summit of all knowledge where the Form of the Good becomes self-evident. What are the chief rewards that intellectual and moral goodness can win? Toward the end of the Republic Plato presents two attributes of the soul: the animation of the Good in this life (608c–613e), and the transmigration of the soul after death (614a–621d). By recalling the Orphic myth of Er, Plato hopes to conclude his ethics with two arguments. First, the philosopher’s life seeks ultimately to attain unity between the cause of life in the soul and the cause of the world in the Good. The same connection is made in the Timaeus: the Good has been passed from the divine maker to the World Soul (30a), and the human soul is the miniature of the World Soul (41d). Second, philosophical life is intellectually enlightening, politically necessary, and soteriologically rewarding. In the Republic, book 4, Plato identifies the exact part of the soul that is capable of immortal existence. This argument is presented against the previous discussion of the three parts of the soul—desire, spirit, and reason (439a–441c). According to Irwin, Plato’s principle of division is “good-dependent.” The appetitive is not good-dependent. The emotional is partly good-dependent. The rational is entirely good-dependent and for the “over-all good.” 40

Among the three parts of the soul, only the rational part is fully dependent on the Good. The mingling of the soul and the Good, therefore, speaks for the homecoming of the soul to the cause of Forms and the world. It is an ethical model of the many becoming the one. The hierarchy of the three can also be schematized in terms of degrees of closeness to the one. the rational the emotional the appetitive

the most good the less good the least good

the one

immaterial World Soul

the many

material World Body

132

textual studies

The connection between the essence of life and the essence of the world is comparable with Ge Hong’s doctrine of immortals. However, two questions set the two apart. What is the ultimate good? For Plato, it is the rational soul in unity with the immaterial logos. For Ge Hong, it is the body-spirit bond that surpasses human finitude and is absorbed into the ongoing process of change in Nature. Change is good because the primordial state of change is creative and enduring. For Plato, change is bad. The reward of the most “good-dependent” is a disembodied existence, similar to Buddhist enlightenment. The enlightened are not reincarnated (as in the Phaedo)—they live as disembodied souls. Only those who are contaminated by matter are reincarnated. In the Republic, as the scene of reincarnation of souls appears before Er, what catches his attention is the central struggle for the souls to choose a better fate for the next life. The soul struggles not because it has few options, but because there are too many attractive ones (618d–619a). The moral lesson beyond the myth is that one should know earlier (before death) “the knowledge and ability to tell a good life from a bad one” (618c). Like Buddhist reincarnation, the current ethical life has direct consequences in next life. The freedom of choice of what is most appropriate in the next life depends upon the ethical knowledge to distinguish good from bad that has been learned in the previous life. For Plato, the essence of life is the soul. Only the rational part of the soul has continued existence beyond death in a disembodied state. For Ge Hong, it is Qi preserved by the body. The doctrine of immortals persistently argues the body-spirit bond as the true identity of human existence. Plato’s doctrine of the soul, on the contrary, separates the soul from the body with the antithesis of rational/irrational, immaterial/material in the hierarchy of the Good. Plato even says that death is the liberation of the soul from the body. The historical Socrates was brought to trial for corrupting youth. He was found guilty and was ordered to drink poison. We have already encountered the story in Plato’s Phaedo, but here is another comparative perspective. It would be a shocking idea for Ge Hong that Socrates—the spokesman of Plato—turns the death penalty into a voluntary “suicide” with his conviction that death is not the end. In the last hours of his life, Socrates told his friends, as if he had always been waiting for this moment, that “whoever practices philosophy in the proper manner is practicing for dying and death” and that, as if his departure was for the greater good after death, a true philosopher is “to be of good cheer in the face of death and to be very hopeful that after death he will attain the greatest blessings yonder” (63e–64a). Then he went on to prove the immortality of the soul as the true happiness waiting for all philosophers. Second, if death is the end of the body, why is it not the end of the soul?



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings133

For Ge Hong, the body without the soul is a corpse, and the soul without the body is a mere ghost. Neither a corpse nor a ghost has ontology because to be an ontological entity requires the living relation of a body and a soul. H ­ owever, Plato’s doctrine of the soul rests upon the assumption that the soul has ontological independence from the body. The immortality of the soul goes hand in hand with the eternity of Forms. Even if all chairs in the world had been destroyed, the ideal Chair would still exist. Even if the body was gone, the soul would still exist. The premise “death is the separation of the body and the soul” reaffirms the assumption and leads to the belief that death is the liberation of the soul from the body. From the Daoist point of view, Plato’s intellectual enlightenment, which involves body-spirit separation, entails misery. Ghosts and demonic spirits are never happy. They always try to abduct someone else’s body to become a functional reality (IC 299). It is troubling to accept the immortality of the soul on both grounds that the soul has independent ontology, on the one hand, and death is the liberation for the essence of life, on the other. Why should one place all hope on postmortal existence?

Cultivating the Self and Governing the State: Ge Hong’s Political Philosophy In the eighteenth chapter, Ge Hong presents his political philosophy: Hence a person’s body can be pictured as a state. The allocation of chest and stomach can been seen as the arrangement of courts in the palace, the stretching of the four limbs as the extension of a country’s territory, the interconnection of bones and joints as the order of many bureaucracies. The immortal One is like the emperor, the blood the ministers, and the flowing Qi the people. So by knowing how to manage bodily life, knowledge of governing the state will then follow [guzhi zhishen 故知治身, zeneng zhiguo 則能治國]. Love the people, the country shall be made secure; nurture the Qi, the body shall be kept whole. When people are scattered, the state will fall; when Qi is exhausted, life comes to an end. For the deceased cannot be born again, the lost have no continued existence. Therefore the most venerable adept [zhiren 至人] eliminates hidden disasters before they arise and treats illnesses before they occur. He applies the philosophy of preventative medicine instead of chasing life after it has gone. People are difficult to administer but easy to endanger; Qi is difficult to make lucid, but easy to make turbid. Therefore, [for an emperor] to examine his manner and virtue will protect the country, to reduce extravagant desires will preserve the

134

textual studies

vigor of his blood [xueqi 血氣]. After all this, the Real-One shall be preserved, three spirits and seven gods will be internally kept, hundreds of diseases can be kept away, and life is extended. (IC 326–327)

Interestingly, this passage on politics is sandwiched between passages on the Preservation of the One. The context provides readers with a hint as to why the method of internal cultivation is applicable to ethics and politics. “The Dao can internally nurture the body and externally govern the state” (IC 185).41 The Longevity of the Body and the State Comparable with Plato’s general principle that politics is discussed within the context of ethics and vice versa, the text above also highlights Ge Hong’s political philosophy. Ethics is the core of politics but not other way around. Echoing Zhuangzi’s principle “inner virtue enables outer ruling,” Ge Hong also insists that “by knowing how to manage bodily life, knowledge of governing the state will then follow.” But unlike Zhuangzi’s reluctance to be involved in politics, Ge Hong argues that political involvement is an essential part of the public life of the enlightened. Compared with Laozi’s naturalism and the principle of indeterminate action,42 Ge Hong also argues that political activities should be in conformity with Nature. But as a medical doctor, he uses the philosophy of preventative medicine to argue that the prevention of social illness is a prescription for morality, hence politics. The medical philosophy appears to be shifting away from Daoist indeterminate action and toward a more Confucian commitment to social management. But the core value of indeterminate action is not lost. In medicine it is generally understood that a healthy body and its immunity are the strongest defense against any cause of illness. In politics, social harmony is the best medicine for the longevity of a dynasty. Laozi says, “Governing a large country is like cooking a small fish” (Laozi 60); too much action will demolish natural wholeness. For Ge Hong, the indeterminate action rests on the principle of Qi. As the passage indicates, “Nurture the Qi, and the body shall be kept whole.” When the social Qi—the people— are loved and preserved, life-giving gods will be internally maintained and social diseases kept away. A political ruler should be like a medical doctor taking the initiative to restore social harmony in order that the well-being of individual people will be the true security for a country. Another unique feature of the text is the biological model of One within many. Ge Hong says “to preserve the Xuan-One is easier than the Real-One” (IC 325).43 But he does not explain why. The answer is simple.



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings135

Personal enlightenment is easier than social transformation. The former is the prerequisite for the latter. The best adept, who knows how to preserve life, should turn his personal synthesis of wisdom and life into a social endowment. Ge Hong also says that the emperor should translate his personal virtue into the harmony of the social body, like Plato’s philosopherking, who represents a synthesis of wisdom and power. Although ethics and politics are two different fields, one personal and the other public, the method is the same. It is to discover the One within the many and then to let the One shine through the many. Achieving the longevity of the individual and the longevity of the state are two different operations, but they are methodologically the same. This political philosophy was a revolutionary thought in a Confucian society. Plato’s Just Society: A Model of “One over Many” Confucian social hierarchy is comparable with Plato’s ideal state, as indeed has been pointed out by Western thinkers since the days of Voltaire. In the Republic, book 4, Plato draws the analogy between what the rational soul does for a just person and what wisdom does for a just state. The main arguments can be summarized in three points. Rationality rules the embodied soul as a whole (431e).

Knowledge is only possessed by a small class of wise rulers. They are the legislators of laws, and the laws reflect the metaphysical order of the world (428c, 429e–430b). Also in the Laws 12, philosophers use these metaphysical and transcendental principles “to frame consistent rules of moral action” (967d–e). The Platonic law has a function similar to Confucian moral codes. Ethics provide moral guidance to individuals, whereas people should exercise self-control and follow social rituals defined according to the principle of heaven. Confucius states, “To limit the self and to obey the ritual is called benevolence.” 44 This virtue of benevolence is first of all an inner quality belonging to the sage. Similarly Plato’s idea of the just person is fundamentally a psychological condition. Each part of the soul does its job in the one over many hierarchy. Rationality rules emotion and controls appetite (442a–b). Courage is the chief characteristic of auxiliaries.

Auxiliaries are subordinate to the philosopher-king and act as guardians for a just state (439d). Their social status is lower than rulers but higher than ordinary citizens, in the same way that courage psychologically

136

textual studies

is located between rationality and desire. By exercising courage ruled by reason and in obedience to the king, they perform their duties to defend justice and challenge injustice,45 so the state can be administered according to the ideal model defined by laws. Desire is subject to courage.

Courage exercises rational judgment as to whether desire is good for a person (438a). Water generally eases thirst, but seawater does not. Therefore, a person should resist the impulse to drink seawater (439d). In a state, desire is what ordinary people tend to live by. Individuals must follow the one over many order in which emotions and desires are ruled by the rational mind. As Figure 6.6 shows, Plato’s correspondence between the just person and the just state can be seen as two arms of Plato’s ethics. A just society is built on the model of one law over many citizens. And the republican state depends on the idea that each individual can potentially become a just person. In the psychological hierarchy, the proper subordination of the three parts of the soul is the inner identity that can become externally manifest as acts of justice under the principle of self-control for the greatest good of a person—inward harmony of “fully one instead of many” and outward “self-mastery and order” (443e). In the social hierarchy, the philosopher-king has the class of courageous auxiliaries through which

Fig. 6.6.  The just soul and the just state in Plato’s hierarchy of One over many



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings137

to exercise his kinship, and the chief duty of citizens is to be responsible for their occupations. So the just state is built on an internal social order between rulers and subjects and external laws reflecting what constitutes the harmony of the world. Plato then says, “Justice is keeping what is properly one’s own and doing one’s own job” (434a). Similar to a Confucian society, the shoemaker, carpenter, goldsmith, or other craftsman “should stick to his own trade that has turned out to be a kind of adumbration of justice—hence its usefulness” (443c). Self-control is the principle that brings the three parts of the soul into harmony. And justice is the manifestation of the harmony “with each part’s performance of its proper function in the whole soul.” 46 Self-control in a state means accepting those principles and making moral actions in subordination to the law. The function of the law stretches across the whole social hierarchy and produces a harmony among three classes. The rational ruler, courageous auxiliaries, and ordinary citizens accept their social status and perform their social responsibilities for the common goal of justice (432a, 442c–d). Therefore, a just state and a just person are different in appearance but not in essence. In the Laws, the idea of justice is further identified as the harmonious condition of the cosmos, which is determined by laws to “ensure the triumph of virtue and the defeat of vice throughout the universe” (904b). In the Timaeus, the condition of the universe is finally revealed not as a permanent status, but as a divine gift brought by the work of Reason over primordial chaos (30b). Three Similarities? The parallelism of the just soul and state shows some similarities with Ge Hong’s correlation of the body-state. The two thinkers agree on the central idea that morality is the foundation of politics. But they stand by two distinct doctrines: the immortal soul and immortal life. Apart from the central idea, they agree on three principles. The best should rule.

For Plato philosophers have personified the rationality of the world by forming harmony among the three parts of the soul. For Ge Hong the immortal beings have personified Dao. Public ruling is the expression of inner virtue.

The political philosophy of “the preservation of social Qi” clearly states that the wisdom to preserve life is the prerequisite for the art of ruling.

138

textual studies

Only those who have preserved the vigor of life can possibly preserve the vigor of the country. Looking after Qi and looking after the people are one and same method. For Plato the model of the just state is the just soul and vice versa. In fact the investigation of justice in the individual is placed in the context of seeking true justice in the state. Ge Hong’s medical approach emphasizes movement from the inner to the outer. Apparently the medical approach and psychological modeling set these political philosophies apart. But the idea of “inner virtue enabling outer ruling” underlies the shared principle that morality is the core of politics. Human essence and social essence are intrinsically the same, namely, life.

Plato’s threefold argument on cosmos-state-soul is comparable with Ge Hong’s cosmos-empire-immortal correspondence. To be a ruler, a philosopher ought to incarnate the logos in his soul and to translate his wisdom of the world into the organization of the society. To be an enlightened adept is to remove the distinction between the macro and the micro. All these similarities cannot draw our attention away from the obvious difference in Plato’s psychological model of “One over many” and Ge Hong’s medical model “One under many.” In fact the very notion of life is understood differently. Both Plato and Ge Hong had similar careers and were involved in politics in their early lives. Later they both abandoned politics and traveled extensively. When they returned, they founded new schools. Ge Hong established the religious order now called the Temple of Cleansing Vacuity 沖虛觀 on Mount Luofu 羅浮山 in southern China. Plato’s Academy in the city of Athens was a school for statesmen. By training philosophers, Plato attempted to fullfil his political vision through a new class of statesmen whose chief virtue was wisdom. But the ideal state of a republic did not break away from the one over many social structure. Nor is the notion of life’s true happiness. In the discussion of imperfect societies (543a–92b), Plato argues that happiness is to be measured in degrees. Among four types of statesmanship, only the happiness of the philosopher-king is real, whereas the Spartans in timarchy, the wealthy in oligarchy, the anarchists in democracy, and the popular champion in tyranny all are to some extent mixed with pain and therefore illusory. The political model directly corresponds to Plato’s ontological hierarchy. Certainly the ideal state of a republic ruled by a philosopherking was a revolutionary thought in its historical context. Nevertheless, the state relied too much on one man’s intellect and knowledge of the world.



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings139

If the king errs, will the “top-down” structure cause immeasurable suffering to the ordinary people below? The Biological Model of “One under Many” Viewed from the point of view of modern democracy, the model has little sympathy with democracy. Viewed from the eyes of Ge Hong, the ordinary people are wrongly labeled. They are neither unwise, easily deceived, nor powerless. But they are the livelihood of the social body—Qi. The best politics to work with the social Qi is not suppression but preservation. Prior to Ge Hong, although the Han New-Text Confucians justified the claim that the emperor was the earthly incarnation of heaven’s order, historical kings kept failing to translate moral codes into social realities. Although the Confucian principle of “heaven and man becoming one” and the Platonic wisdom-power synthesis in the ruler envisioned two ideal states in different historical settings, these one over many models contained a central weakness in praxis. the One the king and wisdom the body the state living organisms laws and governing structures blood ministers Qi people Daoist “One under many”

Platonic “One over many”

Ge Hong’s politics is a bottom-up approach to the problem of the topdown social hierarchy. Within the body, the One and Qi are the same thing, but the former is the cultivated identity, the latter the inborn capacity of life. Qi supports the body by keeping it alive and bringing together many parts into an organic whole. This is the biological OM model. The One cannot be cultivated without the many unless the many form the body to contain it. Although the One represents the master identity of the adept, the cosmic One takes a humbling and supportive role to keep bodily parts intact. This is the paradox of Qi, both superior and inferior. The key is to recognize and accept that the social Qi is the people. The emperor has no existence independent of the people. Unless the emperor empties himself into the people, he cannot rediscover his true identity, namely, as the One. What bonds the many parts of the body is not power but life. In the likeness of paradoxical Qi, the true life of the emperor is not his superiority, but his participation in the life of the people. To attain this virtue, Ge Hong only prescribes one medicine—love. By

140

textual studies

loving the people, just as the emperor loves his own life, his oneness will be preserved by the many. This principle of “cultivating Qi and loving the people” (yangqi aimin 養氣愛民) turns the social hierarchy upside down. In the hierarchy, ordinary people are inferior and therefore suppressed. Like the historical Confucius, who lobbied feudal lords to take ordinary citizens seriously during the war-torn Spring and Autumn period (722–481 BC), Ge Hong says, “When people are scattered, the state will fall; when Qi is exhausted, life comes to an end.” Having been a government official for almost ten years, Ge Hong clearly sees what can cause a dynasty to fall. Water can carry a ship but can also sink it. When the people’s wellbeing is sacrificed for the unity of the state, various forms of social unrest emerge. As the passage clearly explains, “People are difficult to administer but easy to endanger; Qi is difficult to make lucid but easy to make turbid.” Whoever turns against Nature will be punished by it. Whoever governs a state by running against the people will be overrun. Therefore, to love the people is not a gratuitous act of charity, but a moral obligation. For Ge Hong, loving the people signifies much more than a personal virtue since the virtue has a cosmogonical origin. Just as love is a natural expression of parents toward their children, the genealogical unfolding of the Dao is an act of love to empty oneself into the many; in so doing, life truly finds its continuation. If the emperor can empty himself into the many, he will ride on the harmonious flow of social Qi in the likeness of immortals who glide on the cosmic potency. Thus he becomes a free man. One becomes many so that many may become one. This “one under many” model has a radical implication. It is not just for the emperor, but also for every citizen. In a society where people passively accepted predestination, Ge Hong urged the people “to look inwardly and listen to the inner flow of life” and to contemplate nothingness as if “the emptied body has no heart rate” (IC 17).47 Instead of seeking endless possessions and building luxurious tombs, people should break to free from self-imprisonment and realize that deep inside the body something is constantly flowing. Just as with the Preservation of the One, Ge Hong argues that knowing immortal existence is a matter of openness. When a person opens the body to be a receptacle of Qi, the experience of the embodied Dao will set the people free from individual self-centredness to cosmic personhood. Human destiny can be changed if one returns to the core of life. For Ge Hong openness toward the Dao holds the key to a renewed life. This is a common virtue of all immortals, and everyone can possess this virtue. “To learn the way of immortals, one must empty himself, let go of voracious desires, take an inward journey, and cultivate nothingness and peace” (IC 17).



ge hong’s doctrine of immortal beings141

For the body to attain longevity, each single organism must be a healthy part with complete wholeness. A forest cannot have continued existence without individual trees flourishing. For the state to turn into a dynasty, each single citizen must be able to live a life with full potential. That means that each single one of the many should be one, ideally a cosmic being who lives to the full potential of the created nature. An ocean cannot be timeless unless each species can be sustained. For the state to be a web of social Qi, each citizen ought to be a being free to personify the Dao in his or her social location. To achieve this natural status, the emperor must act like Nature. That is to be indeterminate. By humbling himself to the lowest position, by emptying his identity into the many, he is no longer a ruler. He is an open ocean into which streams of living water flow. Within this open and confident being, individuals evolve in accordance with whatever kind of body-spirit Nature has given to them. What he can do despite his humility, however, is to create a healthy condition of the body in which each part of the body forms a relational unity. People can then form a harmonious unity inwardly connected by Qi. He can achieve this most complex aspect of politics with the simplest virtue. Love is that one empties oneself into the many. When the ruler can translate virtue into praxis, he becomes the living example for the people to follow. Each one becomes life-giving to others, just as different organisms in a healthy body share a single life by supporting each other. Having in mind the ancient Yellow Emperor who ruled the country out of the synthesis of wisdom and immortality, Ge Hong argues that the perfect model of a statesman ought to resemble the virtue of mingling wisdom and health (IC 148). “By cultivating the body, the body can be prolonged, and by governing the state, the state will attain eternal peace” (IC 148).48 Politics, then, becomes the extension of the soteriological pursuit to enhance and sustain the life of humanity. Ruling is like healing. Once health is restored, then visionary policies for the prolongation of the state can be effective. When each citizen becomes a cosmic being, a personified Dao, society becomes a harmonious community in the likeness of the four modes of immortals portrayed in the Biographies. What interweaves individuals together is not power but life. The genealogical unfolding Dao carries the many, supports individuals’ health, and unifies them into a relational whole. This is the model of humanity. Not only are the body and the state isomeric, but the state and Nature are too. If many illnesses exist, it is impossible to attain longevity. If hundreds of social illnesses exist, no longevity is foreseeable for a dynasty. To attain bodily longevity requires daily care of the body and the right methods to preserve the One. To achieve social longevity, one needs compassion for

142

textual studies

the people and the right policies to restore their well-being. And importantly, the emperor cannot do it alone. The wisest people are required to assist the emperor to implement this medical-political program, especially Daoists. But a Daoist emperor should not exclude Confucianism altogether. What the principle of “cultivating Qi and loving people” hopes to achieve is a goal shared by Daoists and New-Text Confucian ethics. But where New-Text Confucianism sees the emperor as the cosmic being, Daoist ethics wishes to transform every person into a miniature of the Dao. In Daoist soteriology, the door to immortal life is closed to the wealthy who are burdened by their possessions. But it is open to the poor whose simplicity is the primary asset in transforming themselves into empty yet open vessels.

Summary The One becomes the many so that the many may be one. These two processes can be summarized with two Chinese words: diversification (fen 分) and unification (he 合). The doctrine of immortal beings professes that by preserving the One, the continuity of ontological life, humans are capable of embarking on the journey of return from the many to the One. In the overall scheme of Ge Hong’s one and many, the doctrine contains a biological model of the one and many discussion. If the doctrine of Xuan Dao presents the one and many discussion in a cosmological framework and the many are dealt with in terms of genealogical oneness, then immortals are incarnations of the One, and the One is dealt with in the framework the many. The ethical implication of the one and many shares a common interest with Plato’s doctrine of the soul, that is, to seek conformity with the world’s origin. Although both Ge Hong’s soteriological ethics and Plato’s psychological ethics aim to establish an ontological base for human life, the very idea of the One sets the two apart. For Ge Hong, the “One within many” is the continuity of Qi into which humans ought to abide. For Plato, Reason is the “one over many” logos toward which souls ought to transcend. Qi spontaneously changes, whereas Reason never changes. Thus Daoist immortal beings are presented in the genre of a religious anthropology in which transformation of the body becomes a central theme. Platonic immortal souls are presented in the context of intellectual ascent toward the realm of eternal Forms where change is absent. Daoist immortals cherish spontaneous and bodily life, whereas philosophical souls celebrate rationality and disembodied enlightenment. The political philosophies of both thinkers also diverge according to these core ontological differences.

Pa r t T w o

Comparative Ontology

Why is not-being denied ontological properties? And why is being the starting point of ontology? The following three chapters on comparative ontology proceed from such basic questions. Key issues in comparative ontology shall be investigated by looking at how the concepts of being and not-being are categorized in Plato’s dialogues and how Daoist not-being (wu 無) and being (you 有) are used in Ge Hong’s writings. Chapter 7, titled “Nothing,” is intended to address these questions in three parts. First, it identifies subject negation: not-being is treated as the absence of being—the wholly unreal are thus excluded from ontology. Second, it investigates the OM problem embedded in the rejection of not-being from ontology. Finally, it offers Daoist cosmogony, moving “from nothing into being,” as an evolutionary solution to Plato’s problem of change “from being to becoming.” This final idea is systematically developed in the next two chapters by creating a dialogue between Daoist cosmogony and Plato’s theogony, between creation by evolution and creation by intelligent design. Chapter 8, under the name “The One,” investigates the unity of the world in astronomical contexts: the continuity and discontinuity between cosmogony and cosmology, and comparison of the biological model of Qi and the mathematical model of the World Soul. Chapter 9, “The Many,” investigates the plurality of the world in the context of Ge Hong’s alchemical Nature and Plato’s mathematical universe. Comparative study by nature takes both Plato and Ge Hong beyond their written works. Platonic and Daoist scholarship usually would not transgress the norm of textual fidelity. Textual fidelity and intercultural comparison do not only conflict, but they also create a methodological problem. How far can we take propositions beyond their original intentions? How far can we interpret core concepts without distortion? These questions will be directly and indirectly addressed individually within the comparative contexts. A set of methods has already emerged in the textual studies to this 143

144

part two

point. Ge Hong’s tradition is the product of his creative interpretation of earlier traditions. The study so far has followed this creative hermeneutics and interpreted Ge Hong’s Daoism in the context of historical lineages and on this historical basis; his religious philosophy is reinterpreted through a creative lens to bring out implications for the comparative project. Plato’s philosophy, for its part, was developed in a historical context in which Plato engaged in a critical evaluation and rejection of his predecessors in order to establish his system of metaphysics. The study of Plato, therefore, takes the form of critical hermeneutics. To clarify, the critical reading of Plato is by no means a rejection of Plato’s philosophy and its influence. Rather, criticism is a means of engagement with Plato through a Daoist perspective. The following comparative dialogues will continue to employ these methods. The interplay of the hermeneutics becomes a form of philosophy in the making.

chapter 7

Nothing

The OM problem is ontological. The problem is located at the heart of knowledge and has to do with the philosophy of what primary reality is (or what primary realities are). Any presupposed ontological reality (or realities) must answer one central question: how does the changing world, both whole and parts, either rise out of or hinge upon the irreducible? The previous chapters on Ge Hong and Plato have worked the texts down to an irreconcilable propositional difference: Plato’s “being without notbeing” defined by logical exclusion of the two and Ge Hong’s “not-being with being” articulated in terms of the relational inclusion of both. To create a dialogue between the propositions, we first discuss the rejection of not-being and the problems that arise from it.

Not-Being: The Ontological Problem of the One and the Many Plato’s Rejection of Not-Being and Its Problems In our study of Plato’s idea of the Good thus far, we have encountered a basic problem: it is difficult for the Form of the Good to attain a unity for multiple Forms. It is not because the Good is not superior to them, nor is its logos noncontinuous in the many, but it is because the discontinuity represented by Forms is irreducible to the single Form of the Good. The root problem is the premise of “being without not-being,” which derives from Plato’s inheritance of Parmenides’ denial of not-being. Within the determinate being there is no room for indeterminateness to harbor plurality. Let us see how this is so. In the situation of the Good over Forms, the Good is said to be the causing unity over multiple caused Forms. According to the doctrine of Forms, each Form is a determinate being predicated on a group of items sharing the same name. The first difficulty is to create a unity of commonality over independent Forms. If the Form of Good is determinate, then its determination requires Forms to share the Good as the common cause. Consequently the Good demands a commonality among plural Forms. Let us say 145

146

comparative ontology

they are all good. However, also according to the doctrine, each Form must be unique. The principle of uniqueness entails that Forms must be different from each other. Let us say tree, water, and volcano must not share the same character of good; otherwise they are not unique. Therefore, commonality and uniqueness are exclusive in terms of sameness and difference. Plato’s answer is implied in his discussion of the ethical Forms, where the Good is the one over many Forms of Beauty, Justice, Love, and so on. It seems to be all right to think all ethical Forms must be good. But the world surely is not created by the ethical Forms alone. Once Plato takes other realities into consideration, such as drought, insects, and floods, it is difficult to explain that they are caused by the Good. The problem goes deeper than that. Suppose Forms all share one quality. Standing at the level of Forms, to single out a sameness in them would suggest that there is at least one sameness that they all share. How is this possible? There are three ways to think about the idea of sameness in the schema of one over many (OVM). The first way is to think of a Form of geometry over a triangle and a sphere. This is fine in geometry but problematic in practice. Shipbuilding, for example, is not an exercise to cause material objects by a single Form of shipness, but a realization of a design that consists of many disciples or ideas. If the Form is limited to be numerically one, this presents a fundamental difficulty for Plato: how is it possible for a single cause to bring the many under the umbrella of the one? A design must be internally plural, not numerically one. I shall come back to the problem in detail. The second way is to think in terms of one cause and many effects. An oven at 220 degrees affects steel, paper, and a roast differently. It seems the heat is an OVM cause affecting three objects. But the argument is false. The cause and effects are not just physical, that is, to generate heat, but fundamentally chemical. These items have different responses to the heat: steel withstands the heat, paper is burnt, and a roast is cooked. Burnt paper is a chemical change of substance, as is turning a roast from raw to cooked. But Plato did not understand chemical change, nor did he have access to Ge Hong’s alchemy on the interchangeability of things. Therefore, Forms stand for unchangeable truth in any circumstances. When we apply this OVM example to the Form of the Good, a problem emerges. If the Good is the OVM temperature, and any three Forms are like steel, paper, and a roast, then Forms must also respond to the temperature differently, to be the same, burnt, or cooked. It implies Forms must be capable of change and must be changed like the items in the oven. Can Forms change? No. The doctrine of Forms forbids this. Therefore, the Good cannot be the cause of different effects.



nothing147

Since physical things cannot contribute any ontological value to the Form, the “backflowing” effects on the cause are ruled out, which are essential in the “oven” example. To be a multiple cause, the effects must be accountable as the immanent parts of the cause 220 degrees. This is because the “220 degrees” cause is indeterminate over whatever things are inside the oven. The effects (the hot plate, the burnt paper, the cooked roast) are self-generative, just like Ge Hong’s cinnabar that can respond to heat and change into mercury. In a phrase, what the example demonstrates is that becoming can contribute to being. If Plato can accept the interplay between becoming and being, no further comparison is needed from this point. The comparative ontology can simply end here. However, the ontological backflow is impossible. The third way is to think about one over many is as an irreducible universal. We can take two of Plato’s geometrical Forms, triangle and sphere, as examples. To argue for an irreducible universal, one could explain that triangles and spheres are made of lines (regardless of whether straight or circular lines). Then the sameness of lines would destroy what the geometrical shapes stand for. This is because the principles embedded in the shapes (such as the area of a triangle=bh/2 and the area of a circle=πr 2 ) are reduced to lines that do not necessarily resemble those principles. If the sameness is treated as a deductive commonality and singled out to be the one over the many, then it will destroy the uniqueness of these shapes. All three ways of thinking confront a common dilemma. In the Good over many Forms situation, on the one hand, the determination of the Good requires some sort of sameness in order to be their master unity. On the other hand, the principle of uniqueness of Forms rejects the demand of commonality. The root cause of this problem is the premise of “being without not being.” It fundamentally conditions what sort of qualities Forms must possess. Each Form is single, noncomposite, and numerically one. We can use the “emperor and feudal lords” analogy to explain this problem. An emperor has many feudal lords, and they are powerful and independent. We can call the emperor the master unity and the lords Forms. If the master unity is willing to compromise and allows Forms to be independent, then the unity will change its kind. It becomes a unity of togetherness, just as in Spring and Autumn period China there was no real harmony but empty togetherness. To be sure, togetherness is not a noncomposite unity at all, but an assembly of many. Since the independence of Forms will force multiplicity into the numerical oneness of the Good “emperor,” togetherness of “feudal lords” will reject the ideal oneness demanded by the superior. The introduction of plurality into the unity subsequently

148

comparative ontology

makes the master unity multideterminate. As long as multiple Forms exist as unique causes, the Good must have an equal number of determinations to match them. To be multideterminate is essentially to be indeterminate. Therefore, allowing Forms to be self-subsistent “feudal lords” will eventually overthrow the “emperor” all together. The Good is not a real emperor with real power of one over many. It is only an ideal character of perfection. This is the difficulty of having a unity of togetherness. Among the Pre-Socratics, this unity of togetherness is exactly the same problem as atomism. Since infinitely many atoms reject unity all together, what has been left between them is indeterminate space, which has neither character nor unifying capacity. In Plato’s Parmenides, when the old Parmenides asks how many Forms there are, the young Socrates can only reject the suggestion of infinitely many Forms that include mud and other trivial things by the criterion of aesthetics. This argument denotes Plato’s rejection of the suggestion that the infinite one creates infinitely many universals. But the multidetermination of the Good is not explained, even though it is demonstrated. Now we meet two impossibilities: (a)  A unity of commonality is not possible among Forms. (b)  A unity of togetherness is not possible within the Good.

If the first one stands, then the Good cannot truly be the cause of them. This is because causality must meet two requirements.1 First, between the Good and Forms there must be a discontinuity to maintain the causing/ caused difference. Second, among Forms there must be a continuity that runs across them horizontally as their sameness and executes the causal connection vertically. Since Forms are self-subsistent universals, then the continuity of them is not possible. If the second requirement stands, then the noncomposite and numerical oneness of the Good rejects the very possibility of togetherness. In order to be the cause, the Good must swallow the plurality that multiple Forms strongly protect. The very acceptance of plurality alters the unity from being singly determinate to being multideterminate. Hence the Good becomes an indeterminate cause. It is no longer a causal Form. Using the same analogy of “emperor and feudal lords,” the problem is acute. These “feudal lords” are too powerful and self-subsistent. The problem is concealed beneath the claim that Forms are irreducible universals. It is the issue of being. Platonic Forms have been bred out of the Parmenidean noncomposite “being without not-being.” The idea was originally designed to eliminate change from ontology. Plato adopts the idea to



nothing149

secure the chief attributes of Forms such as being determinate, noncomposite, independent, unchangeable, and preexistent. Consequently the elimination of not-being has not only driven the “dissident” not-being out of the ontological community, but also ruled out the relational possibility for any other “partisan” beings to associate. Relationship is both being and not-being. But the relationship among Forms is impossible simply because the aspect of not-being is absent in being. Is being the only reality of ontology? In the analysis of two impossibilities, we start from the proposition of “being without not-being” and presuppose the Form of Good as the most determinate cause of all Forms. But we arrive at the opposite end. The unity of togetherness somehow requires plurality—not-being the Good-itself—to be a central identity of ontology. If the “emperor” takes the identity of “not-being itself,” then he must be less in control over the “feudal lords” and internally be indeterminate. This is exactly what Ge Hong argues in his political philosophy. To be the master unity, the chief virtue of the emperor ought to be to see himself as “Qi”: on the one hand, to be as indeterminate as the circulating Qi and, on the other, to empty himself into the people. Every single one of the “feudal lords” could learn from the virtue of the emperor and would be imitative of the master cause in order to form a unity. A unity of this sort is no longer centered on the power of being self-subsistent, but rests upon communion with each other. The analysis also shows the remarkable comeback of not-being. The very rejection of not-being by the doctrine of Forms eventually invites the exiled ontological “dissident”—indeterminate not-being—to return to the center stage of ontology. But why? Apart from the emperor’s need to manage “political” harmony, from the Daoist perspective, it is simply because indeterminateness is nonrejectable. Laozi says, “The myriad things are born of beings; beings are born of not-being” (Laozi 40). To reject not-being, one commits the ontological “crime” of rejecting the mother of beings. Plato has envisioned the world as a harmony under the principle of common good. But the very nature of harmony depends on the acceptance of others, who are different from each other in virtue of having different personalities that are irreducible to the commonly defined being-itself. In other words, the individualities of Forms cannot be collapsed into the single Good of being-itself, just as Ge Hong’s immortals have never cast away their personalities exemplified in their bodies, yet the creativity of Dao shines through them. The harmony in itself is an indeterminate and identity-affirming space in which to coexist freely. Cosmic harmony intrinsically consists of the discontinuity of individuals, and the myriad things open themselves to allow the continuity

150

comparative ontology

of life to penetrate their manyness through and through. This is the ontological paradox of continuity and discontinuity. The one and the many are intrinsically relational. In the second part of the Parmenides, Plato has already arrived at this paradox. All hypotheses lead to the principle that unity and plurality can be either both affirmed or simultaneously denied. But Plato did not realize that this paradoxical principle is actually the most powerful weapon against the twisted logic among his contemporaries. What it does is to reject Parmenides’ logic of mutual exclusion between the One and the many. Plato ought to accept the validity of the paradox produced by logic, yet he neither affirms the logical antinomy nor rejects it. The book concludes with an inconclusive ending. Plato arrived at the door of enlightenment, but he did not push it open. Could the harmony of the Good be ultimately indeterminate yet its determinateness be manifested in and through the determinate Forms created by it? In the Republic, the narratives on the Form of Good may be suggesting that this is a possible understanding of the OM relation. But Plato remains equivocal about the central paradox. For Ge Hong, however, “political” harmony among the Forms is possible if the “ethical” indeterminateness has been appropriated as the chief virtue of the One. If the emperor opens himself to embrace heaven and earth, so his selfemptied being, indeed self-confidence, will harbor truths between heaven and earth within the breadth of his indeterminateness. To translate the ethical idea to ontology, it requires the Good to hold humility as its chief identity and the Forms to disarm their insecure uniqueness. This “ethical” move alters Platonic ontology radically. This is simply because the move is the very acceptance of not-being into ontology. In the Parmenides, Plato did not make the young Socrates wrestle with the old Parmenides when the separation of Forms was exposed, nor did he respond to the Third Man Argument, which Aristotle later used to attack the advocates of Forms in the Academy. Perhaps for Plato these problems were not fatal. Would the admission of not-being into ontology be fatal to his ontology? The Paradox of Not-Being and Being What would a Daoist approach make the OM problem look like? I have already employed the concept of harmony that both Platonism and Daoism share. Now we continue to investigate what the unity of harmony will do to the OM problem. We start from the Daoist proposition of “not-being under beings.” Although the language of being and not-being would make Ge Hong (who mainly writes in poetic style) feel uncomfortable, the pur-



nothing151

pose is to grasp some fundamental issues of harmony. The following diagram gives a “bottom-up” description of the relationship of “the one under many.” (a)

(b)



(The myriad things or Forms)

Determinate beings



(Dao or the Good)

Indeterminate not-being

One

In the diagram (a) describes the general schema whereby the Dao begets the myriad things or the Good creates multiple Forms. It expresses the OM relation. Column (b) explains that the basic attribute of the One is indeterminate not-being and that the many are determinate beings. This diagram represents the aspects of the doctrine of creation “from nothing into being.” The world derives from the same not-being; derivative realities are different beings of not-being. In the previous section, two ontological principles were mentioned. For current purposes we can turn them into OM language. (a) If the One generates the many, there must be an ontological ­continuity between them. (b) If the One generates the many, there must be a discontinuity between them.

In the case of the Dao and the myriad things, the unity of harmony contains both principles. On the one hand, the Dao manifests itself as the ontological continuity of the world. Dao moves out of itself and extends its presence into something other than itself. The one must be determinate in this sense. The determination is carried out by the continuity (or homogeneity) between Dao and the myriad things. Plato has also clearly expressed the continuity between a Form and its physical instances in the cause/caused relationship. On the other hand, the myriad things are never the same as the creating Dao but always different from it. The difference is maintained by discontinuity (or heterogeneity). In other words, the myriad things can be the vessels into which the Dao actualizes itself, but they are not the Dao itself. Plato also distinguishes ideal from actual to emphasize the discontinuity. However, the doctrine of Forms ignores any horizontal difference

152

comparative ontology

between sensibles. The discontinuity not only represents the difference between a causing Form and its caused instances, whereby for instance the ideal bed is different from any actual bed. A Form also cannot be a common character over all differences like a place for sleeping. The idea “sleeping” cannot create beds, but a design with functional structure can. If the ideal bed is understood as a design, it must alter its internal structure in order to be accounted for as the single cause for all beds in the world. Any fixed being can only function as a character (sleeping) but not a productive design in which plurality is implied. It is simply not possible for an unchangeable being to have multiple determinations. In Plato’s Parmenides, the older Parmenides correctly criticizes the young Socrates for having committed the fallacy of division. In the analogy of “a sail covering many people,” each person will only have a section of the sail covering them, rather than a whole unity over each one of the many. If the OVM structure stands to be true, then the unity must be divided into parts and no longer constitutes an indivisible unity. The discontinuity, therefore, represents the unity’s inner capacity to hold multiple determinations—plurality—within its identity of being-itself. The young Socrates explains the problem of multiple determinations away by arguing that the many participate in the one, but the one does not directly partake in the many. This argument of “one not in the many” is problematic. If the design were nonparticipatory in any crafted bed, then a bed would not yet have been made; even it had been made, the whole would fall apart and become unstructured parts. So this argument is off target to address the issue of multiple determinations. To admit Forms having multiple determinations impels Socrates to admit that Forms are indeterminate. Yet Socrates did not realize that this is actually the answer to the second ontological principle—the discontinuity between the One and the many. It also meets the Parmenidean challenge to manage the continuity among the many. Instead of having a sail covering many people, one could have the sky performing the function of covering many people at once without being divided into parts. Each person would then have a complete sky over them, not a piece of sky that each one possesses. This is because sky is indivisible, whereas a sail is materially divisible. Parmenides can divide a sail but not the sky. The sky is essentially indeterminate. The indeterminate unity of the sky sets itself in radical contradiction to any determinate Forms. The young Socrates did not realize the indivisibility of the continuity of the One and so allowed Parmenides to frame the problem of participation in terms of the divided and material “sail.” Nor did he realize the continuity of unity



nothing153

over many people must meet the dilemma of self-differentiation. The differentiation is not maintained by the external separation of Forms from sensibles with the Parmenidean division of Being and Becoming. Rather, it is an internal reality. Ge Hong’s vision of the best emperor is of one who empties himself into the many and by this virtue draws people into his act of ruling. In ontology, the role of being is not just to act as a cause outwardly, but also to move inwardly. Its inward movement creates space to accommodate the plurality that the many represent. To be indeterminate is to change. It is a way to cope with the backflow of the discontinuity of the many upon the one. However, Socrates has predefined unity in a different fashion, so he is unable to stand outside the defined norm that commits unity to be an unchangeable being without self-differentiation. The admission of indeterminateness on the top of determinate beings makes a Form a paradoxical union of both determinateness and indeterminateness at the same time. And the Parmenidean mutual exclusion “being without not-being” fundamentally prohibits such a union. Plato never ventured beyond this marked-out ontological territory. Hence the very possibility that unity must be both being and not-being—a position of pre-Socratic monism—never occurred to Plato as an ontological synthesis. The same paradox also exists in the Good. As in the OVM cause, the Good would have to be both determinate and indeterminate, both beingitself and not-being-itself. How is possible to solve the logical antinomy? By positing “being without not-being,” Plato hopes to exclude not-being from ontology altogether. In reality, the method of exclusion does not expel it. We have viewed the problem of separation of Forms and sensibles from various angles. A simpler example should capture the essence of the problem. (a) If the ideal bed (F) is the design of ordinary beds (A) and sofa beds (not-A), then F causes both A and not-A. (b) Since “F is A” and “F is not-A” are both true, then the identity of F must include the opposites of “being A and being not-A.” (c) Then not-being does not only exist, but exists as the partner of being within the Form.

The conclusion about not-being may seem to be a way of saying that beds do not have all their qualities in common. Parmenides would not resist that conclusion. But it actually reinserts not-being into the causal being, which Parmenides will surely resist.

154

comparative ontology

The separation of Form/sensibles actually is the separation of being and not-being. It is what the paradoxical dilemma defines as inseparable. This partnership of being and not-being is at the heart of the OM problem. Daoism affirms the partnership, whereas Plato denies any correlation between them. The “being without not-being” position excludes the partnership by the principle of noncontradiction. Daoism regards the paradox of not-being and being as the gate of ontological mystery. Plato also arrived at this gate in the Parmenides, but turned away from it, because Parmenidean consciousness told him to. Daoism not only enters the gate, but also goes even a step further. Laozi names not-being as the mother of beings. Ge Hong calls Xuan (the darkness of the Dao) the grand ancestor of all beings. Plato’s rational philosophy from the very beginning treats not-being as an epistemological vice rather than an ontological virtue. To this stage we have only arrived at the partnership issue in the OM problem. We are still far from coming to terms with what constitutes the partnership. In particular, the original question—Could Daoist “from nothing into being” offer an alternative answer to the OM problem?—is still untouched. To advance the Daoist approach will take major steps and many pages. In the meantime we need to take a step back to investigate the key concept of not-being. Not-Being and Being: Subject Negation or Subject Correlation? In Daoism, there is no such concept as “not-Dao.” The relationship between something and nothing is not a subject negation, but a subject correlation. Ge Hong uses two words to express the correlation: the word Xuan 玄 (the darkness) and the word Yi 一 (the oneness). They designate the not-being of Dao and the being of Dao respectively, or more Platonically Xuan is transcendent in the darkness of the night sky; the oneness of Qi is immanent in creation. Compared with Plato, who dichotomizes “being” and “not-being,” Ge Hong mainly treats them as partners. However, the correlation of the opposites does not collapse the apparent logical contraries into a single concept without internal differentiation. Ge Hong describes this inner relation and differentiation as generation. Notbeing is not a product of subject negation, but the mother of being. Qi is the child of Dao; being is the offspring of not-being. The not-being of Dao is not only responsible for becoming, but creates the being of Qi, which is the life of Dao’s own becoming. Ge Hong has a whole different outlook on not-being: positive, generative, and life-giving. In fact Daoist not-being is entirely foreign to the Parmenides-Plato school. Before we can create a dialogue between subject



nothing155

negation and subject correlation, it is necessary to ask a basic question. Is Plato ignorant about not-being? No. Nevertheless, contrary to the level of clarity on Forms, not-being is far more ambiguous. Four types of not-being can be outlined. (a) Not-being designates the negation of unity.

In the Parmenides Plato considers two hypotheses consequent on what would follow if “unity is not-being” were true. If unity is not-being (notbeing negates a Form), then beingless unity does not exist (160b–163b). Unity is denied. If beingless unity could exist, then non-unity would have no predicates. To participate in non-unity, the many would become headless and causeless entities, too. So plurality is denied. If unity is not-being (Form is other than being), the absence of universals causes the world to have no differences at all (164b–165e). An undifferentiated world is a world of primordial formlessness in which plurality has not yet been born. So plurality is denied. Both hypotheses conclude that to deny unity is also to deny plurality. Therefore, the hypothetical affirmation of not-being leads to the annihilation of both unity and plurality. It is the problem of not-being. (b) Not-being and being are coupled.

Apart from the Parmenides, the Sophist presents the most concentrated discussion of the subject. In both dialogues the keynote speakers come from the same school: the founder Parmenides in the Parmenides and the Eleatic stranger in the Sophist. As a distinguished logician visiting Athens, the stranger in the Sophist points out: “Then we’ve now given a complete statement of our confusion. Because both that which is and that which is not are involved in equal confusion. That is, insofar as one of them is clarified, either brightly or dimly, the other will be too” (250e–251a). Owen argues in his essay “Plato on Not-Being” that this passage holds the key to understanding that, while Plato is mainly interested in being, he never denies not-being. Plato regards not-being as a puzzle and moots that not-being and being could be “twin” brothers of ontology—or, at least, the Sophist points toward that direction.2 Owen’s argument is mainly a critique of Cornford’s theory that Plato’s intention in the Sophist is about Forms rather than not-being. Cornford’s theory is not limited to the Sophist. In his commentary on Parmenides, he illustrates that Plato actually is not the criticized, but the criticizer, in total control of the dialogue to explore problems of contemporary Eleatic

156

comparative ontology

logic. The hypothesis of “if one is not-being” mainly serves the purpose of defending the doctrine of Forms rather than self-criticism. Against this background, Owen argues that not-being has an important position in Platonism, or otherwise Plato would not have written about the puzzles of not-being in the Sophist. In a sophisticated linguistic-analytic fashion, he explores multiple connotations of the verb “to be” through English concepts such as nothing, negation, contrariety, and nonexistence. But toward the end he concludes that Plato is mainly interested in “to be is to be something” and holds “to be in no way at all” as a paradoxical notion. Owen’s conclusion provokes a further puzzle not about not-being, but about his attempt to create a parallelism of being and not-being. Owen would hope that “insofar as one of them is clarified, the other will be too.” Yet in reality, the understanding of being does not clarify not-being in Cornford’s study, nor does Owen’s study clarify the partnership between being and not-being. Does Plato actually think that not-being is the “twin” of being? The answer is clearly no. Among Western philosophers, it was ­Heidegger and the postmodernists who revisited the ontological “stranger.” The Sophist may present a specific case and is still debatable, but it has not created a general motif. If being and not-being are the twin brothers of ontology, why did Plato not take not-being to be a standard feature of his thought? Certainly Plato has an acute interest in Eleatic logic; the Parmenides and the Sophist have demonstrated his extensive engagement with the school. But Plato has not changed his mind about “being without not-being.” In the Republic Plato argues that a true reality is “being without not-being,” and a changing reality is to compose both, since change is both being and not-being. The degrees of ontology (Forms/sensibles/images) are measured by the degrees of definite being, not by the percentage of indefinite not-being. Plato’s doctrine of creation in the Timaeus further intensifies the distinction by arguing that the forming of formlessness is the victory of Reason over Necessity, and orderly beings overwrite chaotic not-being. These are the evidences against Owen. It would be a powerful argument, however, if Owen could show that knowing the puzzling notbeing could yield knowledge of beings. (c) Not-being is an equivocal notion for the impoverishment of ethical Forms.

Plato in the Republic declares that beauty and ugliness are two things, and the same logical negation exists between good and evil, and justice and injustice (476a, b). Clearly beauty, good, and justice are ethical Forms; on the contrary evil, injustice, and ugliness refer to the impoverished state



nothing157

of Forms. Then he further categorizes ignorance as the absence of knowledge. “Knowledge is related to what is, and ignorance necessarily is related to what is not” (477b). We have already explored the epistemological problem of subject negation. Now let us have a closer look (Table 7.1). The problem of subject negation is concealed in the equivocation between two sorts of not-being, as if the two can be freely exchanged. The exchange happens in the premise that knowledge is related to being and ignorance to not-being. This epistemological claim rests upon the ontological division that not-being is the subject negation of being. When the negation is applied to the first premise, the negation of the being Beauty produces the not-being of ugliness. Thus beauty and ugliness become two separate subjects logically opposed. Plato says beauty and ugliness (being and not-being) are two things and “each of them is single” (476a). The second premise then reinforces the dichotomized status of being and not-being by the argument that the ambiguous state of belief primarily reflects the self-contradictory state composed of being and notbeing. Therefore, the subject negation is outlined with two contrary moral qualities. Beings designate the total presence of ethical Forms, on the one hand, and ugliness, evil, and injustice refer to the total absence of beings on the other. The exchange takes place between two denotations of the subject negations: from the impoverishment of ethical Forms to the absolute negation of beings. Does the negation of Beauty entail ugliness? The negation of Beauty is not-Beauty. The not-being of Beauty is an impoverished state of Beauty but not the total absence of Beauty. Socrates is not-being beautiful. This could mean he is normal looking. The impoverishment of beauty does not mean beauty is completely absent in his average appearance. A child does not know the goodness of eating vegetables. This means that the child is ignorant about what Good is but does not entail that not-being Good makes the child evil. A farmer might kill a sick chicken without knowing the Form of

Table 7.1.  Ontological order, moral order, and social order Knowledge/Forms=Beings

Beauty, Good, Justice

Philosophers

Belief/becoming=being+not-being

Moral ambiguity Sight-lovers, art-lovers

Ignorance=not-beings

Ugliness, Evil, Injustice

Unenlightened minds

158

comparative ontology

Justice. His ignorance does not mean his act of killing has no justice at all for the chicken and others in the hennery. In these instances, the not-beings of beautiful, goodness, justice are not equal to ugliness, evil, and injustice. What happens in the examples is that the negation of the subjects yields objects. The objects, such as average appearance, dislike of vegetables, and killing a sick chicken, are not independent subjects. The impoverished subjects become objects that are still under the domain of the subjects. Not-being is not the unconditional negation of subject-being without any objects. Rather, not-being is a conditional object of subject-being. The poverty of being still exists as the realities of Socrates, the child, and the farmer. The negation does not produce a single concept of not-being, such as ugliness, evil, and injustice. Rather, it gives rise to the whole realm of becoming that consists of being and not-being. It is the realm of moral ambiguity. Plato is partially right when he labels being and not-being as two single entities. But not-being cannot be reduced from being by the method of negation. To accept the irreducibility and to affirm the existence of notbeing require the move to presuppose not-being as an irreducible cause, similar to Necessity in opposition to Reason in the Timaeus. (d)  Not-being is evil.

“Properly speaking, that which is not must be called not one thing but nothing” (478b). The sentence repeats a Parmenidean fallacy that Plato has inherited. However, ugliness, evil, and injustice certainly do exist as vices in individuals and unethical social conditions. They are existentially real but ontologically unreal. These vices do not have separate being, nor are they capable of forming another ontology of not-being. They are always viewed against the background of being. Whenever the ethical Forms are discussed, they are equally mentioned and criticized. On physical objects Plato says, “Most things are subject to their own specific form of evil or disease” (609a). For example: eyes the body grain timber bronze and iron

: ophthalmia : disease : mildew : rot : rust

These objects and their specific evil are given to support the definition that “anything that harms and destroys a thing is evil, and anything that preserves and benefits it is good” (608e).



nothing159

Plato is preoccupied with the category of becoming—the composition of being and not-being—and maintains the dualism by saying “each individual thing has its own particular good and evil.” Instead of viewing the phenomena of change grain-mildew, timber-rot, and metal-rust as generally caused by external things, such as moisture, insects, and oxygen, he attributes them to the internal antithesis between good and evil. Then, he concludes that physical things somehow have immunity against external harm, but “a thing’s specific evil or flaw is therefore what destroys it; nothing else will do so.” The conclusion is wrong because of Plato’s false claim that rust (treated as internal evil) can destroy bronze. Rust is in fact the product of the changing bronze. In Ge Hong’s eyes, change is not a specific evil, but an alchemic virtue. Without change no metallurgical refinery is possible. It should be noted that this argument is part of Plato’s proof of the immortality of the soul (611a). Here attention is not paid to the validity of the proof, but to the substantial dualism. Good+evil=physical objects Being+not-being=becoming

Plato has attributed moral good and evil to physical objects. But the real problem is that evil and not-being have interchanging meanings. Since all Forms are created by the Good, they must be good beings. Being is good, not-being is (or becomes) evil. If we continue to follow the logic of negation, the problem of evil is amplified in the doctrine of creation. If the world contains evil and the creator-Good has created the world, then the Good must have created evil also. If evil is the privation of the Good, then in the created world there is a timeless antithesis of good and evil. If the self-negation of the Good produces evil, then evil must be a part of Good prior to the creation. In the Timaeus Plato polarizes the problem by naming Reason—the cause of order—and Necessity—the cause of disorder. In so doing, the conflict of good and evil is made not only an existential reality, but also a primordial one. Evil was, is, and will be, and is coeternal with the Good. It is not a realityless shadow, but an apocalyptic beast. It grows a collective army in physical objects to thwart the purpose of Good in the world. It has no being yet uses physical things to exercise the power of very real evils, such as disease, mildew, rot, and rust. It is supposed to be ontologically nothing, as Parmenides declares, but is capable of disintegrating life by turning life against itself—in fact inside out—as Plato suggests “a thing’s specific evil or flaw is therefore what destroys it; nothing else will do so.”

160

comparative ontology

With these difficulties, therefore, the categorization of physical realities as both being and not-being, both good and evil, is deeply problematic. It is only plausible to argue that evil has no ontology or that not-being has no definite being. But not-being and evil have no direct correspondence. Among these types of not-being, there is a common feature. It is subject negation. The norm being pertains to the subject-predicate what is. In the negative form, the norm becomes what is not. Plato’s use of the verb “to be” is inherently Parmenidean. Since the Parmenidean tradition, three different senses of “is” have been developed: the “is” of predication, the “is” of existence, and the “is” of identity. Predication: snow is white. Existence: there is snow. Identity: snow is the frozen moisture of the atmosphere, composed of minute hexagonal ice crystals and usually aggregated in feathery white flakes (Shorter Oxford Dictionary).

Later in Aristotle’s logic, the predicative function becomes evident. On not-being, the negative use of the verb “to be” in English usually requires a predicate of “not to be what.”3 For example, Plato usually talks about “Beauty is” but not “Beauty is her appearance.” In the negative form of “to be,” Plato directly applies the logic of negation and allows the negation that supposedly happens to the “what” object to backflow onto the subject of being. Because the predicative “her appearance” is absent, “Beauty is Not her appearance” becomes “Beauty is not.” What Plato has done is to apply the same subject-predicate principle and to add a negative prefix to the subject of being. The negation of “Beauty is” should be “Beauty is not.” But because the predicative is not assigned, the negative form of “not to be” becomes the subject negation of “not-Beauty is.” Contrary to being as “to be something,” not-being mainly refers to “to Not be something.” If Beauty represents the fullest form of something, then not-Beauty actually negates the subject. The negation of “to be beautiful” becomes “to not-be beautiful” and “to be not-beautiful.” 4 Both inferences mean the same thing and are often further inferred as “being nothing” at all. This existential problem is the direct consequence of subject negation. Therefore, the existential predicative becomes important to carry positive meaning for the impoverishment of being that subject negation supposedly infers. Thus Socrates’ not-beauty is “average appearance.” Otherwise the absence of being makes the subject beingless, and Socrates’ not-beauty becomes nothing at all.



nothing161

Logical Aspects of the Partnership between Not-Being and Being A remarkable feature of Ge Hong’s ontology is the double subject XuanQi. Would two subjects make Dao not numerically one but two causes? We can approach the Platonic question in two steps. The first is to identify the inner unity of the subjects. The second is to understand the outer unity that arises out of the subjects. These unities are basically two forms of the same life of the Dao. The inner rests in the creative core, whereas the outer acts by sustaining the many with evolving Nature.

Indeterminate and Determinate in Daoist Generation At first glance, the inner reality of the Dao is an antithesis in logical terms. Xuan basically is nothing, or not-being, whereas Qi is the primordial life, an undistinguished matter-energy, or the first being. Ge Hong would not dispute the logical antithesis between not-being and being. Certainly the partnership is a logical problem that inheres even within the Dao. To establish a unity of two opposites requires a continuity to establish the complementary nature for the discontinuity of the opposites. If the antithesis is unreconciled, then the disharmony will be passed on to the world of plurality through creation. The world becomes the manifestation of the antithesis. From Parmenides to Plato, the ontology of “being without not-being” is the filtering device to single out unchanging universal(s) from Becoming. But the ontology of being does not really aim to solve the problem of the antithesis, but only to isolate beings from not-being. The system of Being, therefore it could be said, deliberately bypasses the antithesis of not-being and being. For Daoism, the antithesis is not an apparent reality of the many—of Becoming—but the essential reality within Being. Behind the antithesis there exists a hidden synthesis, and being and not-being are not primarily a logical contrary but a creative tension held by two complementary parties. Ge Hong’s imagery of cosmic pregnancy provides a metaphorical answer, which needs some analytical explanation. The mother Dao and the fetus Qi, not-being and being, are a relational whole. The partnership of not-being and being can be explained simply as the mother’s womb and the fetus. To fully articulate the logical aspect of this cosmic womb is difficult at this stage. It is basically the inner core of the cosmogonical one and many, or how the world came to be. But we can simplify the discus-

162

comparative ontology

sion by following Laozi’s suggestion: “To know the mother is to know her children” (Laozi 52). So we move from the external to the internal, from children to the mother. The mother-child relation is basically an OM argument. If the mother is the one and her children represent the many, then between them there exists both continuity and discontinuity. By giving birth to children, the mother’s life has continued in her children’s lives. This is the continuity of life. Is the continuity determinate or indeterminate? According to Laozi, the life of the mother Dao is the most spontaneous (ziran 自然). For Ge Hong genealogy is also spontaneous. Hence, contrary to the determinate continuity of the Platonic one over many, Daoist continuity is indeterminate. Even though the mother’s life is continued in her children’s lives, her children’s lives are no longer her own. This is the discontinuity between the one and the many. Just as a mother’s womb creates room for life to be conceived, nourished, and developed, a mother lives a supportive life that provides living space for her children to develop their individualities and eventually becomes indeterminate by setting her children free. Laozi refers to this chief virtue of the motherly Dao as indeterminate action (wuwei 無為). The continuation of the mother’s life evolves out of the indeterminate womb. During birth, the living space of life engages in the inward act of self-emptying. However, in Laozi’s dialectic philosophy, indeterminate action is the most potent determination. “The Dao acts indeterminately, but nothing is not accomplished by it” (Laozi 48). Childbirth is the most determinate act of the mother’s life. But the outward letting-be of the child is produced by the inward act of self-emptying. Hence a mother’s determination is the expression of an indeterminate self-withdrawal. The determination is the consequential reality of indeterminacy manifested by the act but not the permanent reality of the one. After the birth of new life, the determination during the contraction is discontinued, and the womb returns to the empty state. Therefore the self-emptying act is transformed into the reality of infant life. Each one of the many children embodies the spontaneous life of the motherly one. And each one of the many becomes a living vessel to diversify the indeterminate continuity of the one. To put the mother-children parable in the bloodless language of being/not-being, it can be said that the one holds the identity of notbeing, whereas the many diversify the one as beings of not-being. But this sort language has explained nothing about the innate connection between being and not-being apart from the confusion that arises from the fact that the two concepts stand logically against each other. Surely children are not born as the opponents of their mother. If we adopt the parabolic



nothing163

OM argument, we must explain the logical sequence from not-being into being, which neither Laozi nor Ge Hong has directly explained for us. But the parable can be reconstructed with four segments. (a) Indeterminate not-being: The motherly Dao is the indeterminate not-being. (b) Indeterminate action: By the virtue of self-emptying, something is born of nothing. The indeterminate self-emptying and the determinate begetting are two simultaneous movements of the same act, namely, generation. (c) Continuity argument: Each one of the many embodies the life of the motherly one. The life of the mother in each child is the indeterminate continuity that forms the blood relation among the children. (d) Discontinuity argument: By begetting children out of her womb, and later by setting them free from her care, the mother remains ­indeterminate over her children’s evolving lives. Each of them is a unique discontinuity from the mother but diversifies the mother by becoming “beings of the not-being.”

These four segments can be arranged in a “bottom-up” flow chart as follows: (iv)  Many: beings of not-being



(ii)  Indeterminate emptying

(iii)  Determinate begetting

(i)  One: not-being

The chart demonstrates the flow from nothing into being. The continuity over the course of generation is intrinsically indeterminate. We can advance this argument one step further. Can this indeterminate generation take the Platonic place of determinate causation and answer Plato’s difficulty of forming a harmonious unity? Let us presuppose that the chief identity of each Form is not-being. Surely “Form as not-being” will have radically altered Plato’s premise of “Form as being.” We should investigate whether such a radical shift would upset the world of ideas. In the instance of the ideal/actual bed, if the identity of the ideal bed is not-being, then the universal design of all beds must be indeterminate.

164

comparative ontology

Plato might immediately become uneasy at an attempt to treat his definite being as indefinite not-being. Without the Form bed-ness, what else could it be? It could be anything, if not nothing, except bed-ness. But these difficulties derive from the premise of “being without not-being,” What does not-being refer to here? In Chinese it is wu 無. It is not the negation of being produced by the hypothesis that presupposes being as bed-ness and then negates it. It is the reality prior to something or being (you 有). The Daoist proposition alters the principle of “being without not-being” into the relational principle of “not-being with being.” The not-being of bed-ness refers to the indeterminate otherness of bed-ness. This state of not-being is the unawakened idea yet to give birth to the design that Plato calls the model of being. Therefore, there exists an internal distinction between the unawakened idea and the design. The former is indeterminate, whereas the latter is the expression of the indeterminate. Now let us test this Daoist proposal against Plato’s model/copy schema. According to Plato, the Demiurge has made the perfect design of bedness according to which all beds are made. If the model is a single unity, this unity is ultimately indeterminate. Why? A determinate design cannot be simply floating in the metaphysical sky, but rather requires the vessel to receive what it will eventually produce. If the design is placed in the ideal realm, it remains indeterminate in itself. In craftsmanship, there is no essential difference between a dream and an unrealized blueprint. Plato puts the determination in the ideal/actual causation and believes the ideal bed exists independently. But causation requires both the cause and the caused. Without the caused, the causation cannot be established. Without physical beds, the ideal would have nothing through which to realize its universality; its determination would have nothing to rest upon because the removal of the actual would make the determination nonfunctional.5 What is left is pure indeterminateness; the being in itself cannot even be itself. It is the otherness. In Chinese it is wu prior to you. Plato also has a similar ideal that absolute transcendence negates all external assertions about the one (Parmenides 137d). If Plato had taken this otherness as seriously as the neo-Platonists were later to do, he would agree more with Daoism. Any unity must be primarily indeterminate unless it moves out of the transcendence by the act of causing actuality. Contrary to the neo-Platonists’ wholly-otherness, Ge Hong speaks of the otherness as the living space innate within the reality of Dao. Xuan is viewed against astronomy as the night sky. The dark and infinite universe is the cosmic womb in which celestial bodies are contained. Ge Hong’s cultivation methods aim to create a living space within the body. “Having mastered his desires, purified his passions, the adept looks inward and traces



nothing165

the sound [of flowing Qi] [neishi fanting 內視反聽]” (IC 2). The adept takes the inward journey to discover his true existence. The discovered inner environment is nothing other than the self-emptied space. Ge Hong depicts this fundamental reality anthropomorphically. The inner liberty of immortals moves them freely between heaven and earth. What this inner liberty does, however, is not just to awaken the adept to what it is be a free person, but also to harbor plurality inside his empty yet open being. To translate Ge Hong’s thought into Platonic language speaks to two important issues. (a) The indeterminateness speaks for the inner capacity to be the other. It is the principle of self-differentiation. (b) The inner space of not-being can truly contain multiplaced determinations. It is the principle of indeterminate continuity. What do they mean in more practical terms? To be the unity of plural beds, the design must hold together within itself the multiplicity of whatever many beds collectively stand for. The Form of bed-ness must be responsible for the variations among different beds. If the Form causes ordinary beds “A” and sofa beds “not A,” the one over many Form must be “F is A” and “F is not A.” Since nothing can be creative other than the Form, the Form must be solely responsible for the difference “A” and “not-A” as their shared cause. The cause, therefore, must either accommodate within itself the multiplaced determination or change the design to meet the variation of “A” and “not A.” Since the principle of the unchanging universal rules out the possibility of internal change, the only option is to manage multiplaced determinations within the unchanging being. If this happens, the import of being A and being not A impels the ideal to be indeterminate. We can use Plato’s own example to set the logic. In the Parmenides (131e–132b) Plato records the Largeness Regress argument, or the Third Man Argument labeled by Aristotle (Metaphysics, book Alpha 9, 990b). According to the OVM theory, there exists the Form of bed-ness over ordinary beds and sofa beds. If another kind of bed is present beside the Form, for instance, a waterbed (B), it is necessary to assign a superior Form (F2) on the top of the unity covering the difference of “A” and “not A.” This new Form constructs a larger one over many structure as F2= F1+B (F1=A+notA; B =waterbed). If another kind of bed (C), for instance, a Chinese kang (a heated brick bed), has been introduced beside the super unity, there must an even higher unity (F3) to cover the previous unity (F2) plus C (F3=F2+C). In so doing, Plato will fall into a bottomless pit. The Third Man Argument pinpoints the problem that the continuity represented by F is crippled by the discontinuity among many (A, B, C). The many drag the all-determinate one into multiplaced determinations.

166

comparative ontology

All that one can do is to busy oneself to invent a new universal to bring the subordinated discontinuity under control, which means that at the same time the one over many is also controlled by the many. Thus being becomes indeterminate. Instead of accusing Plato of falling into logical absurdity as Aristotle does, Zhuangzi would say that Plato actually is at the doorstep of enlightenment, but he is unaware what kind of ontological wonderland he is standing in. The difference between “F is A” and “F is not A” cannot be simply swept aside and ascribed to the realm of Becoming. Rather, the “wholly other” of indeterminateness inheres in all realities. The Forms are not exempt. If a unity is accountable for many instances, it must contain many first within itself—not in the form of Forms but of formlessness. For Zhuangzi, recognizing the ground of the many as the groundlessness of not-being marks the beginning of true wisdom. If one can look deeply enough through one particular reality, one should be able to enter into the awakening state of mind with the realization that all realities are inwardly connected through the unawakened not-being. In the instance of the ideal bed, the key is to conceptualize the prior of “not-being a numerical Bed-itself.” A causal design is a realization of this prior idea. It is a child being born out of this not-being idea. In order to cause various beds, change must implied within the design. The self-modification then meets different demands to produce beds of varied kinds out of the same master plan. The Collapse of Being and Act in Platonic Causation What makes an indeterminate unity determinate? This question of inner change will be investigated in the next two sections. This section discusses the logical sequence of the inner change at the micro scale. The cosmogonical aspect will be presented in the next section. When we see a rosewood bed, we may identify a particular Chinese design. In this situation, the bed exists because a carpenter has actualized the design. To be precise, the craftsmanship is the act that makes the design determinate to organize rosewood into a bed. The act does not only give the design a vessel to receive and express its content, but vindicates whether the design is constructive. Therefore for the indeterminate to become determinate requires both the act and the vessel to transform an idea into a reality. Here we have a threefold transformation. It includes (a) the indeterminate design, (b) the determinate act, and (c) the vessel containing the design. For Plato, the transformation is expressed as the causation from the ideal to the actual. For Ge Hong, the change is understood as generation.



nothing167

We have two models: mechanical and biological. Here I may overstretch the biological model in order to point out the differences between causation and generation. The design (a) mother

The act (b) The vessel (c) birth child

Indeterminate Determinate

In generation, the act and the vessel happen simultaneously as one single event. Thus the line of distinction between indeterminate and determinate is situated between the mother and the act. To allocate this line in the threefold transformation, it is located between the design (a) and the act together with the vessel (b +c). The line indicates the moment when a carpenter gives “birth” to a bed. He transforms a design (a) into a reality by the act (b) of creating a vessel (c) for his design. Likewise, the line exists in Plato’s analogy of the divine craftsman who creates all beds according to the ideal bed. One fundamental issue must be cleared up: it is not the ideal bed that functions as the determinate cause, but rather it is the act that creates actual beds that is accountable for the determination. We can see the point of argument clearly within the next threefold transformation (whether it is called causation or generation). The design (a)

The act (b)

The ideal (a+b) Determinate (being)

The vessel (c)

The actual Indeterminate (becoming)

If we look again at Plato’s ideal/actual causation, we have discovered that the determinate act has gone missing. Where did it go? Clearly Plato’s craftsman analogy contains the ideal model, the act of making, and the actual copy. What has made the threefold generation into twofold causation? It is the collapse of the design and the act. They have been swallowed into the ideal. The mingling of the ideal and the act corresponds to the claim that Forms are self-generating causes. The mingling of the subject and the act within the cause is not the direct problem. What is wrong, however, is the collapsing of the indeterminate ideal and the determinate act into the

168

comparative ontology

single concept of causation. Since the act is externally determinate, Plato believes that the design ought to be determinate as well. So the determination of the act is inserted into the identity of being. The indeterminateness has been swallowed by the determinate act. Being determinate becomes an essential characteristic of the ideal. In the generation schema, however, the mingling of the subject and the act will not make the mother’s identity determinate, because the selfemptying contraction is essentially the manifestation of the mother’s indeterminate being. It corresponds to the primary assertion that the Dao is not-being. In the causation schema, the situation is different. If we discern once more the premise “being without not-being,” here it is evident that the swallowing of indeterminateness is not an accident. It is done on purpose. The Parmenidean treaty to eliminate not-being is designed to secure the determination of Forms. And it feeds into the assumption that the causal act must be equally determinate. Having secured the realm of the determinate, Plato draws the dividing line between ideal being and actual becoming. The line that maintains the distinction between indeterminate and determinate has been shifted from the position between the design (a) and the act (b) to a position between the causal ideal (a+b) and the caused actual becoming (c). On the side of the ideal, since the causal design and the act are both present, the realm of being in totality is determinate. On the side of the actual, that which is caused cannot be self-generating. It seems to follow that the realm of becoming can only be indeterminate. However, becoming is both determinate and indeterminate. This is actually the problem. As we have discussed, the ideal, which contains the design and the act, is also both determinate and indeterminate. The true difficulty hides behind the question “Where does the feature of being indeterminate come from if being is all-determinate?” If we adopt Plato’s ideal/actual causation, it would also follow that the determinate gives birth to the indeterminate, and the perfect being generates the imperfect becoming. How does this happen? Since the divine craftsman has the perfect design yet has created the imperfect vessel called the physical world, it must follow that the divine act must be imperfect. If so, the act must be both determinate and indeterminate. We have looked at this problem a number of times from various angles. Let us now formulate the content. (a) If the ideal model is being, the actual copy is becoming, (b) the act creates the copy composed of being+not-being, (c) then it can be formulated that “being+act=being+not-being.”



nothing169

The equation suggests that the act has introduced not-being through the project of creation. In other words, the maker of the world is either incapable of doing a proper job or something has prevented the act from fully actualizing the design. In either case, the act is insufficient. To blame the Demiurge for incapability is not going to answer the question, so where does not-being come from? In the Timaeus, more than halfway through the narrative of creation, Plato introduces another primary cause, Necessity (48a). It seems that Necessity is needed to explain the cause of contingency in the world. However, since Necessity preexisted together with Reason in the precosmos, its primordiality entails that indeterminate formlessness was there prior to the creation. The inference affirms our argument that the element of indeterminateness must have existed prior to the act or not-being existed prior to both the act and the existence of the vessel. Therefore, the line in the second diagram in this section must be shifted back to the position prior to the act. Neither the divine act nor the vessel (the created world) was responsible for the indeterminateness in the precosmos. If so, the distinction between the determinate ideal (being) and the indeterminate actual (becoming) is not viable. Insofar as the preexistence of Reason and Necessity is affirmed, the determinate and the indeterminate must inhere in the precosmos. For Daoism the partnership of being and not-being is the intrinsic nature of the world and its origin. Cosmogony: Generation or Causation? Is the world created out of an intelligent design? So far we have assumed the existence of a design in the threefold schema in order to conduct a dialogue with Plato’s twofold causation. The above discussion has stretched both schemas beyond their original contexts. This is because the doctrine of creation has imposed serious demands on both models, more specifically, the question of how to explain the change from nothing into being. Here we come to an inquiry into the relationship between the indeterminate and the determinate that underlies the cosmogonical change from nothing into being. Plato argues that creation came about as the result of the fact that “Reason controlled Necessity by persuasion” (Timaeus 48a). But are Reason and Necessity really two conflicting causes or two sides of a single cause? For Plato, they are clearly conflicting causes, and neither one is reducible to the other. In Ge Hong’s cosmogony, however, creation is not understood as the victory of order over chaos. Rather, forms emerge out of formlessness as the self-expression of the Dao. Viewing the question from the sub-

170

comparative ontology

ject correlation of Xuan-Qi, Reason, and Necessity could indeed be two sides of the same creator. To understand creation as the victory of order over chaos, one relies on the assumption that the created world has two primordial ancestors. The feminine indeterminate Necessity subordinates herself to the masculine determinate Reason; together they produce the child called the cosmos. In recent scholarship two models have developed out of this reproduction image. Wright argues the Platonic line that the masculine Reason is the dominating partner over the feminine Necessity in the construction of the world.6 Dean-Jones uses Aristotle’s biological simile of coming-to-be and argues that the three entities being, space, and becoming can be seen as sexual reproduction: father (the eternal paradigm), the mother (the receptacle), and the child (the perceptible cosmos).7 This Aristotelian theory appears to bring Plato’s doctrine of creation closer to Daoist cosmogony. But before embracing the reproduction theory wholeheartedly, we should take a step back and clarify what Reason and Necessity stand for in Plato’s doctrine. On this basis we can determine whether the reproduction model and the Daoist biological model are comparable. Reason stands for the mind of the Demiurge—the chief organizer— that inserts the first principles exemplified by Forms into the formless space of Necessity. The act of giving form to formlessness is called the work of Reason. The doctrine of creation rests upon the principle of Reason to produce the world of plurality. Could the mind of the creator carry out this act under the condition that the Forms are preexistent and coeternal with the mind? If Reason were the OVM unity over Forms, Forms would have to be created rather than being coeternal with the mind of the creator. If Forms are created, how does the change from one to many happen within the mind of the creator or more likely inside the womb of Necessity? To presuppose Reason as the unity of Forms will bypass the issue of from one to many completely. But this is the heart of the one and the many problem in the doctrine of creation. As has been discussed previously, as long as Forms remain absolutely determinate, it is neither possible to form a “political harmony” among them nor is it possible to attain “sovereignty” over them, no matter whether the super unity is called the Form of Good or Reason. The powerful and self-subsistent Forms refuse to form a relational unity. But as in the investigation of the alchemical body, Ge Hong argues that relational unity is the true unity of harmony. Here in the context of creation, Reason is not a super universal, but the common character of rational Forms. It is a false unity of OVM commonality but not a true unity of harmony. In a bag



nothing171

of frozen vegetables, for instance, to be frozen is the common character, but it is not unity. Ge Hong’s has taught us that harmony is like different parts of the body forming a whole life, and Qi interconnects the many yet remains indeterminate and spontaneous. What Plato has said is very different. All that Reason does in the process of creation is to overcome the chaos of Necessity. What harmony requires is that each Form is prepared to lay down self-governance, to discover mutual support for each other, and to form the interwoven web of relation. But Forms in the Timaeus are eternal. The mind of the Demiurge has never created them. Instead, the divine craftsman must obey the regulations set by Forms. He is not a creator but a craftsman. His chief task is to copy the model composed of many Forms to produce the world in the likeness of the model. He has no power over Forms, but works within the limits of them. Now we can gather what was in the primordial world prior to creation. There were not only more than two ancestors, but a plurality of eternal categories. (A) There stood the primordial chaos caused by Necessity. (B) Multiple Forms existed in the realm of being to be used in the project of creation. (C) Reason supposedly ruled Forms as their unity but turns out to be just a common character that marks the contrary of the mystical Necessity. (D) The divine craftsman stood as the symbolic figure in the narrative of theogony. His main role was to play out the act of creation, as if the process of creation came under his command. In reality, he did not create the world, but only copied it according to the design invented by no one. (E) The intelligent design rested in the realm of being and contained within itself whatever organization the Forms had managed among themselves. But one thing is sure: the organization is not a unity of harmony. If we put the preexisting categories together, what we can find is that the categories in the current cosmos had already existed in the precosmos. This current cosmos is a mere reflection of the precosmos. Or the precosmos is a mere projection of this world. The most difficult issue, however, is to decide which category is accountable for what is most prior in the doctrine of creation. To assert Reason and Necessity as two ancestors of the world means to contradict the proposition mentioned in the beginning of the narrative, namely, that the world was created by the single creator (Timaeus 30a). To maintain the proposition of a single creator, the reproduction model developed in recent scholarship must also face this challenge. Plato has failed to reconcile the one creator and two causalities. Can we solve this contradiction? If we imagine the creator as somewhat of a marriage of Reason and

172

comparative ontology

Necessity, this seems to explain that the child of the marriage—the world of Becoming—has genetically inherited characters of both order and disorder. But there is a sense of awkwardness in the marital analogy. Marriage is a relationship of two persons, not a single person. If we externalize Reason and Necessity as two causes, as Plato does, how can the creator— the single person—act as both mother and father at once? To defend the proposition that the world was created by a single creator entails that the reconciliation cannot take an external form as the marriage between the two, but must take place within the creator. Once the two personalities are internalized, then the creator must also live with two conflicting identities. If we force the Aristotelian reproduction theory into this changed circumstance, the result is alarming. The creator would have to be androgynous. To compare the birth of a child with the birth of the world, the transition from the childless state to the birth of the child could be viewed as the cosmogonical change from nothing into being. In this situation, the transition from nothing into being must first be “pregnant” within the creator, and then the world can be born. To be precise, from nothing into being cannot simply be the external transformation that belongs to the created world, which undergoes the change from the chaotic precosmos to the created world. It must equally be an internal change that happens within the creator. How can the very first change—from nothing into being—happen within the creator? From the viewpoint of Ge Hong’s cosmogony, Plato’s theogony explains nothing about the fundamental change that happens within the creator. The doctrine of creation is essentially a creation out of something. To use the schema in the last section, the change “from something to something” can be explained as the sequence that follows: The design (a) The Forms

the act (b) Reason over Necessity

the actuality (c) the world as the mixed result

Plato’s process of creation is basically a causation model based on the ideal/actual ontology. We have gone through a torturous path to turn Plato’s causation model into the Aristotelian reproduction theory in hopes of making sense of the generation metaphor for comparison with Ge Hong’s biological model. But what emerges out of the discussion is what initially stops us from penetrating the doctrine of creation. The same causation of being/becoming is applied to the creation story. At the end, Plato’s doctrine of creation is merely a mystified version of the doctrine of Forms. It is not about generation, but is causation through and through. David Keyt in his “The Mad Craftsman of the Timaeus” argues this cau-



nothing173

sation model is false. The craftsman has copied the many Forms to shape his single living being (the one), and he is not content to stop here but has further made the physical world (the many) as the copy of the single living being. In this situation, the craftsman must be mad, because, to rephrase Keyt’s argument, the eternal one will not be one but many. The craftsman has committed “the fallacy of division.” 8 Keyt’s criticism basically is a rejection of Plato’s causation model. But Keyt has not explored further the ontological limits that Plato imposed on the doctrine of creation and how it causes the main issue of creation, the One or the craftsman, to be explained away. Here is an explanation. Since “being without not-being” is the treaty for the causal creator, it also implies that the creator has no room for indeterminateness. The required space for the gestation of the world has been externalized as Necessity, which belongs solely to primordial chaos. This ontological denial of not-being has crippled the creator and prevented him from taking the self-differentiation move—the move from being-itself to not-being-itself. The externalization of not-being paints the picture in which the Demiurge stands in front of chaos and prepares to change the precosmos once for all into the orderly world ruled by Reason. But the craftsman cannot take the responsibility of structuring Necessity down to every single detail of the myriad things. Otherwise it becomes a Form limited by the multi-placed determination. The all-controlling creator thus has no freedom either. The cause/caused relation will condition the unity to be totally responsible for the plurality. He would become a “cosmic power station” responsible for energizing “all electric appliances” in the world. The causing creator, even if he or she had a perfect intelligent design for the world, could neither be contingent nor spontaneous. Fundamentally, not-being, which enables freedom and spontaneity for the creator, has been purposefully ruled out from the design of the “power station” directed by the one over many doctrine. Without self-differentiation, the creator will be the salve of his own creation. To understand the point in generation terms, the creator turns himself into the only caretaker of his progeny. He can neither be free from the duty of fostering the many, nor can he be creative any more. Each child becomes an increased load weighing on the maker. In mechanical terms, the world becomes a crafted clock created by the single act of creation; nothing new can be yielded out of its motion. Until the creator is willing to let go of the controls, he is not going to discover the freedom of not-being that has enabled the gestation of the many in the first place. Letting go of the controls means letting go of the Forms. Until the Forms have been abandoned, the divine craftsman will not realize the fact

174

comparative ontology

that none but himself can be creative. This is simply because there was no other maker in the precosmos.

From Nothing into Being Daoist cosmogony is closer to Christian creation ex nihilo than to Platonic craftsmanship. But comparison with Christian thought demonstrates that creation ex nihilo is heavily influenced by Plato’s Timaeus, while at the same time a rejection of it, because the world is created out of nothing rather than something called Forms. However, traditionally Platonism has imposed upon Christian theology various limits. On the idea of the creator, for instance, God is unchangeable. This idea of God rejects any possibility of change occurring within the creator. So creation ex nihilo refers primarily to change in the world in its coming to be but not within the creator. The externalization also yields a problem for God. The unchanging God, who created the world, is left outside the changing world. This is identical to the picture of the Platonic divine craftsman; the craftsman is always external to his crafted chair. The core issue again is ontological: the unchangeable creator and the changeable world. To the contrary, Daoism affirms from nothing into being primarily as an internal reality. The inner conversion of Dao gives birth to the outer transformation of the world. The Self-Emptying Dao To designate the Dao as the creative ancestor, for Ge Hong the critical issue is to explain how from nothing into being occurs. From an alchemical perspective he argues that everything is subject to change and that change is the perpetual reality of the world. Pre-Socratic monists also believed that change was the world’s basic feature. Plato rejected the natural evolution of a single form of matter because such theories promoted ontological change. From a Daoist viewpoint, the pre-Socratics were not ignorant about ontology. They knew that being and not-being were partners. But they had not systematically explained how a single stuff (water, air, or fire) changes internally to produce different things external to it. The same question applies to Ge Hong: “How does the Dao change internally?” In the first chapter we encountered Ge Hong’s unique negative philosophy shaped by a group of distinctive words. These words need a closer look to provide insights on the transition from nothing into being. “It is ‘there is not’ [wu 無] because of its submerged stillness [qianji 潛寂]” (4). It is remarkable that Xuan becomes “there is not” by the act



nothing175

of submerging or, better, self-withdrawal. The withdrawal then evokes a movement described by four words: “depth” (shen 深), “smallness” (wei 微), “distance” (yuan 遠), and “marvelousness” (miao 妙). These words are descriptive of the tendency of moving away. Where did the Dao move? If the precosmos had nothing other than Xuan itself, there was no other entity into which Dao could move. The only option was to move into Dao itself. In astronomical terms, it is moving into the infinite depth of the dark universe, namely, Xuan. In human terms, this is the act of self-limitation. The first move prior to the conception of Qi was basically the self-withdrawing act to become indeterminate. But the inward withdrawing is also paradoxically the outward letting be. The determinate act of letting life be is associated with the indeterminate act of withdrawing. By withdrawing the self into itself, Xuan becomes determinate to create a living space, the very condition for a life to awaken from nothing into being. No matter how mysterious from nothing into being may sound, it can be understood in simple terms. Just like Laozi’s lowly positioned ocean, which draws streams of living water into it, it does not act determinatively, but life spontaneously evolves out of it. The fundamental issue is not how from nothing into being occurs, but whether a condition or environment is created to make the evolution of life happen in the first place. Likewise, just as the ocean’s inward withdrawing enables the outward letting life be in the irreversible direction, Xuan also moves inwardly into the darkness and sinks into its own depth. Ge Hong later describes the depth as “the greatness beyond nothingness” (wu wai zhi da 無外之大).9 It is to be noted that the self-emptying journey in Daoist internal cultivation and the self-withdrawing move into creation are the same inward move. Ge Hong calls it “to fulfill the real by emptying the vessel” (quanzhen xuqi 全真虛器) (IC 3). The birth of enlightenment and the birth of the world are akin—from nothing into being. Prior to the birth of the world, there was the internal activity of withdrawing that produced the external act of letting life be. This relationship between Xuan and Qi, between the mother and child, was externally imperceptible. But in the cultivation, the adept is able to experience the Dao still in the making through his bodily transformation. When the adept moves beyond his limited body, he enters into the unlimited space and sees “the unreachable height and unmeasurable depth,” “wanders in the realm forever drifting, and cruises in the exterior of formlessness.”10 Ge Hong’s anthropomorphic freedom is almost identical to Zhuangzi’s “Realized Person” (zhenren 真人) whose “formless peace” (yingning 攖寧) is at one with Dao’s formlessness (Zhuangzi 6). The birth of the world would be like the enlightenment. The first condition created by the self-withdrawal of Xuan could well be the freedom of letting

176

comparative ontology

life be. It was freedom, not an intelligent design, that created life and its spontaneous unfolding. Having noticed the paradox of indeterminate and determinate within the first move of Dao, we should read again Ge Hong’s ontology of change. “Change is the principle of Nature.” Certainly, as a universal phenomenon, change does not need a definition. Just as an ocean changes perpetually without the need to define what change is, the argument also claims that change is the way that Nature is. But reading the argument in the light of the above discussion it has a new meaning. Change is both determinate and indeterminate, like the evolving life. Evolution overall is open-ended, thus indeterminate. But the fact that life strives to grow into a genealogical tree is determinate. Although overall change in the world remains spontaneous, change is not entirely chaotic. For Ge Hong, Nature had an inner drive for the gestation of Qi, and life was unleashed from the cosmogonical from nothing into being. Thus Nature is not just what we see in the world, but also refers to the primordial activity between Xuan and Qi that sets off change and is still active in the world. Thus the argument has a double meaning referring to both the inner and the outer. And the double meaning is concealed within the term “Nature” itself. In classical Chinese the term ziran applies to external Nature that in modern terms means the natural world and to internal Nature. Laozi famously says: The Dao follows its own accord (daofa ziran 道法自然). Certainly Laozi does not mean that ziran is another entity superior to the Dao, but the Dao moves according to its own Nature or more literally self-so. It implies a lack of external causation among other things. There is no such concept in Plato’s ontology as the self-so. Though the Good could be read as a self-so entity similar to Neo-Platonists’ idea of God, Plato clearly calls it the Form of the Good. In Ge Hong’s writings, the same use of ziran can be found. “Among humans there are Laozi and the ancestor Peng, just as there are [long-lived] pine and cypress among trees. [They] have inborn Nature [bing zhi ziran 稟之自然]” (IC 46). Here “inborn” is translated from the word bing 稟, which refers to natural endowment prior to the manifestation of actual longevity. The double meaning of self-so and inborn in the term ziran has an ontological significance. The connotation can be further explained with the modern concept of ontology. The modern Chinese term for ontology consists of two characters: ben and ti (本體). They literally mean “basic” and “body,” or philosophically “fundamental” and “form.” Here there is already a distinction between Plato’s being, which does not require a body to be a reality (such as the Form of Beauty), and the Chinese term, which requires both essence and existence. In Ge Hong’s cosmogony the “basic” can be identified as the



nothing177

passing on of potency from Xuan to Qi, whereas the “form” is the body of the fetus that realizes the evolving life. But the spirit-body clarification actually is misleading, because it still suggests two natures, one essential and another existential. It is more Platonic than Daoist. The distinction in modern ontology is far more equivocal in classical Daoism. Since the modern concept of benti is completely absent in Daoism from Laozi to Ge Hong, we ought to look for the ancient equivalent. What we find is ziran—Nature. In Ge Hong’s argument, there is no distinction between ben and ti, between the essential and the existential. The two are one. Even though Ge Hong identifies a conceptual distinction between something and nothing, between Qi and Xuan, he never treats them as polarized opposites, but as complements to articulate a more elementary reality—Nature, which is change. Just as day and night form a natural cycle, Xuan and Qi are two parts of the same Dao with the same Nature. Since ziran literally means self-so, the spontaneous tendency within ziran is applicable to both the cosmogonical pregnancy and the evolution of the natural world. So once ontology has been understood in terms of ziran, there is a striking synthesis. Ge Hong argues that change is the fundamental reality of Dao defined by the relational exchange of life between Xuan and Qi, and change is the universal reality of the world manifested by the myriad things. But both aspects of change are one single Nature. Nature requires no external force to move it; it follows its own accord. If we line up Ge Hong’s correlations in a table, the breadth of his relational ontology becomes evident. The left column in Table 7.2 represents the concepts that refer to inner reality; the right column designates outer reality. The interplay of the two is Nature, or ontology. Reason, the Child of Necessity Since Ge Hong’s cosmogony mainly works with the metaphor of pregnancy, it does not have a fatherly figure to co-create the child with the

Table 7.2.  Ge Hong’s relational ontology and the inner-outer correspondence 內

Inner

外

Outer

道

Dao

氣

Qi

無

Nothing

有

Something

玄

Xuan

一

One

宇宙生成 Cosmogony

得道成仙 Soteriology

178

comparative ontology

motherly Xuan. Since Ge Hong has never spoken of another entity outside of Xuan, the change from nothing into being is not caused by an external entity. It is the result of the opposite move of Xuan in the act of self-making the other. Laozi defines this as “By returning to what it is, the Dao moves” (fanzhe dao zhi dong 反者道之動) (Laozi 40). Ge Hong develops the reverse movement of Dao in his soteriology as the change from many to the One. This change is ziran and implies self-change (zihua 自化). Self-change is a “one to one” creativity, not a “two to one” reproduction. Viewed from this perspective, Plato’s “two to one” schema has a further problem. Logically, to compress two contrary orders of Reason and Necessity within a single creator would generate the need to manage two personas with a single being. If we interpret Reason as the cause of being and Necessity as not-being, we can bring Platonism closer to Daoism. But the comparison needs to sort out the relation between being and not-being in terms of what happens internal to the creator. To adopt the mother-child analogy for not-being and being, this would make the not-being Necessity the mother and the being of Reason the child. Reason is no longer the father of the world but the child of Necessity. The suggestion immediately pushes the comparison beyond Plato’s intention. Plato intends to write a theogony. The forming of the formless comes as a result of Reason’s victory over Necessity. So Reason and Necessity are treated as two causes externally opposite to each other. But being and notbeing must not be externalized. The logical opposition exists internally within the causing head of the one. The partnership of the two is essentially required for the One to cause the many. But the core of Plato’s ontology prohibits the mingling of being and not-being. Once more the root problem of from one to many is not the incapability of the Demiurge, but rather Plato’s theory of the Forms. In the doctrine of creation, the problem has been amplified to the cosmic scale. Two ontological dilemmas identified in previous sections appear to be external issues: the continuity between one and many, and the discontinuity between them. But they are actually internal issues. Unity must be indeterminate in order to limit itself to initiate the act of creation. Unity must be determinate in order to give rise to the continuity of the many.

Both principles reject Plato’s Reason over Necessity explanation. To meet the first dilemma, the creator must be ultimately indeterminate. That is notbeing. Reason does not qualify as being the ultimate not-being, so Neces-



nothing179

sity becomes the candidate. Between the one and the many, there must exist a discontinuity that enables the creator to hold not-being-itself within as its chief identity. What the not-being does is to ensure that the creator and the created are not ontologically alike, which is called transcendence by Plato. To meet the second dilemma, a determinate creator cannot be like a Form. Otherwise the continuity either commits multiplaced determination or discounts plurality represented by the many. Either the many reinsert not-being back into being, or the world is Parmenidean homogeneity. The latter is not an option. For the creator to free itself from the duty of causing different beings with the single “being without not-being” stipulation, the creator cannot externalize not-being-itself by the cause/ caused distinction, but must cooperate with not-being-itself within its causing being. What the not-being does is to draw an internal distinction that the creator must be internally free from the commitment of multiplaced determination and externally to let the continuity spontaneously unfold and the many rise out of the one. The core of continuity is not determinate but indeterminate. Both dilemmas affirm the Daoist thesis that the partnership of being and not-being exist right within the creator and within Nature. Thus notbeing and being cannot be externalized as two separate causes of Necessity and Reason. In the context of creation, both dilemmas require not-being to be the chief identity, with Reason the “child” of Necessity. But there is still a difficulty ahead. How does Necessity conceive Reason? If they are two irreducible causes, there is no chance for one to pass into the other. If this relationship between the two cannot be answered, it ends in eternal dualism within the creator. Ge Hong has offered an ­alternative answer. The partnership between the not-being of Xuan and the first being of Qi is the ontological change from nothing into being. Is this cosmogony a solution for Plato’s OM problem within the theory of Forms? The comparison here requires two clarifications. (a) Daoist wu is not absolutely nothing (or non-existence). (b)  Platonic Necessity is not absolutely beingless.

So far we have translated wu as “nothing” but have indicated that it is not a perfect translation. In English, “nothing” refers to nothing at all and nonexistence. Nothing is the negation of something. But in Daoism wu correlates to you. Nothing is not nonexistence, but formlessness (xu 虛). Formlessness again is not absence of reality, but is conceptualized comparatively with concrete things (shi 實).11 Xuan does not mean there is abso-

180

comparative ontology

lutely nothing in dark sky, but no-thing is distinguishable in the darkness. Plato’s Necessity is the backward trace of the world’s contingency into primordiality. The entire precosmos is treated as beingless, nonreality, and chaos, because being rests in Forms in the eternal world of Being. But for Daoism, the precosmos should not be called chaos but formlessness with potency. Since Necessity has a continued existence in this cosmos, it has a life of its own. If Plato’s logic of subject negation applies to it, the potency of Necessity is annihilated. When Reason is the true reality by which all realities are created, then Necessity becomes nonreality. Nonreality in Platonic language is nothing. Daoists would not treat Necessity as a negative concept. The forming of the formlessness could be the active formlessness forming itself rather than a passive forming by Forms. Change is not external to the craftsman, but the forming of the formless occurs internally in the creator. It appears to be a complete denial of the rationalism of Plato to say: “Reason is the child of Necessity.” In terms of theogony, Reason can be viewed as the concrete nature of the creator’s self-making of the other. The creator even transcends Reason and rests in indeterminate Necessity. In Zhuangzi’s language, Reason is the awakened state of the sleeping Necessity. In psychological terms, Reason represents the consciousness of unconscious Necessity. Cosmogony, thus, is not a divinized model of human reproduction. It does not require two parents. The first being is somewhat an “apomictic” creature that derives from the self-change of the One. “In gestation with the One” is the inspirational imagery to visualize the primordial unity. The creator does not have two personalities, but only one identity of being indeterminate. The evolving fetus is still in the sleeping mode without a personality until it is born. Likewise the mother-child relationship defines the Necessity-Reason unity. Reason rests within the life-bearing environment made available by the self-limitation of Necessity. The whole process of conception, gestation, and birth of the precosmos can be viewed as a birth narrative—the organic coming to be of life—but not as the craftsmanship of making a copy of an intelligent design. Reason carries the continuity of life as the child of Necessity. When the child is born, it will be named “the World Soul.”

Summary The chapter began with the question of why not-being is denied an ontological property and then answers that indeterminate not-being is at the heart of the OM problem. Comparative ontology takes Plato’s “being without not-being” and Ge Hong’s “not-being with being” as two propositions



nothing181

for a dialogue. Though the dialogue operates at an abstract level and uses language closer to modern philosophy than to that of classic Daoism, the basic issues are only two. One is to address the relationship between being and not-being. The other is the implication for cosmogony. On the first issue, the first section of the chapter investigates Plato’s rejection of indeterminate not-being. Then it examines subsequent problems in having the Good take up the task of being the one over many unity to embrace Forms into a harmonious whole. Then the relationship of notbeing and being is approached from Ge Hong’s biological model. Indeterminate Xuan and the determinate life of Qi form a relational ontology comparable with the motherly womb and its fetus in gestation. The section then arrives at the issue of subject negation in Plato’s use of the verb-noun “to be” and subject correlation in Ge Hong’s double subject of Xuan-Qi. From this point, the dialogue moves on from ontology to cosmogony. Should abstruse cosmogony be approached through the biological model of generation or the ideal/actual model of causation? To answer this question, the second section takes a step back to discuss the logical aspects of the partnership of not-being and being. By going back to examine how not-being (wu 無) and being (you 有) are used in Ge Hong’s genealogical one and many a creative tension between the inward withdrawing of the Dao and the outward letting be of life is found. The distinction between indeterminate and determinate is located between inward indeterminateness and the outer determinate act of giving birth. But in Platonic causation, the distinction is the other way around and is situated between the determinate ideal and the indeterminate actual. Because the act of causation is determinate, Plato mistakenly infers that the cause too must be determinate. The collapse of being and act in the ideal has subsequently swallowed the element of not-being that is required to shape the unity of harmony, which Plato has envisioned in the Good. In the doctrine of creation, the denial of not-being is then amplified when Plato is compelled to introduce the cause of the world’s contingency. The introduction of Necessity immediately creates a primordial dualism and implicitly recognizes that the world cannot be created by Reason alone but came to be as the child of two “parents.” But the two-ness of Reason and Necessity contradicts the oneness of the divine craftsman. The theogony is complied to reconcile two personalities in one person. This is the direction in which the third section moves. By reintroducing not-being back to the creator, Daoist “from nothing into being” offers a solution to the problem of cosmogonical unity, which the doctrine of Forms has created but is unable to solve. For the theogony to work, Plato needs not only to reconsider ontological change,

182

comparative ontology

which the pre-Socratic monists had argued, but also to consider the Daoist feminine model of pregnancy to solve the problem of internal change, which his masculine causation had externalized as the victory of orderly Reason over chaotic Necessity. The radical outcome of the internalization of change is to alter Plato’s original doctrine. Reason was not the husband who overcame chaotic Necessity with his rational control. Rather, Reason is the child of Necessity. Another alteration, perhaps to Greek minds, is that the birth of the world does not have to have a cause. It could well be spontaneous self-change that Nature follows by its own accord. No creator is needed. What does this mean for the created world? We next turn from cosmogony to cosmology.

chapter 8

The One

“Dao begins with the One, and its prestige is its uniqueness. Qi occupies each of the categories [ge ju yi chu 各居一處] and makes the likeness heaven, earth, and humanity (yixiang tiandiren 以象天地人]. Therefore one says the three ones [guyue sanyi 故曰三一]” (IC 323). According to Ge Hong, the One can be found in all three categories of existence, heaven, earth, and humanity. In relation to Xuan’s nothingness, it is something. In relation to the world of many, it designates the oneness of natural life. In cosmogonical terms, “the One can complete Yin and give birth to Yang [yi neng cheng yin sheng yang 一能成陰生陽]” (IC 323). In relation to the evolving world, it is the formless life that separates itself into the two creative energies Yin and Yang. “From the One a hundred million substances have been formed, the Twenty-Eight Constellations are made to revolve” (IC 1). From its oneness the myriad things are smelted, as substances are decomposed into different things in an alchemic vessel. In the context of instrumental alchemy, the One is called the “great materiality.” “Out of the self-change of the great materiality” (da wu zhi bianhua 大物之變 化) “high mountains become valleys, and deep troughs rise into hills” (IC 284). In relation to internal alchemy, the One refers to the harmonious life in which various organisms abide.

The One: The Continuity between Cosmogony and Cosmology Two Egg Theories of Ge Hong The cosmogonical womb is not an isolated idea in Ge Hong’s thought. The same concept is adopted to explain the astronomical contents of the universe. As I mentioned in the first chapter, the only textual record of Ge Hong’s astronomy has survived in the “Astronomical Treatise” in the Jinshu. Now we pursue a closer reading of the text. In the section “Commentary on the Armillary Sphere” 渾天儀注, he writes: 183

184

comparative ontology

Heaven is like a chicken egg and the earth like a yolk in an egg [tian ru jizhi 天如雞子, di ru jizhong huang 地如雞中黃]. It dwells alone inside heaven. Heaven is large, and the earth is small. The [inner] surface of heaven has water. Qi supports heaven and earth as they move carrying water [tiandi ge chengqi erli 天地各乘氣而立, zaishui erxing 載水而行]. The circumference of heaven is divided into three hundred sixty five and one-fourth degrees. The degrees can then be divided into halves. The first half covers the earth, and the other half reaches under the earth. Therefore the Twenty-Eight Constellations become half visible and half invisible. Heaven rotates with the movement of a turning wheel.1 (AT 281)

This passage describes a geocentric cosmology known as the “chicken egg” (jizi 雞子) theory. Before Ge Hong, the astronomer Zhang Heng of the Han dynasty invented the Armillary Sphere; and astronomy took a leap from theoretical cosmology to instrumental empiricism. It appears odd that the Jinshu does not quote directly from the widely available works of Zhang Heng, but provides a summary written by an alchemist, Ge Hong. To explain this textual evidence, we need to go back to the text, where we find various indications that Ge Hong defended the emerging worldview against orthodoxy and that his alchemical view of the universe further strengthened the new theory by making a crucial connection with Daoist empiricism and natural philosophy. The chief argument of the passage is the “egg.” Heaven is compared with an egg forming a cosmic sphere, whereas the earth is a yolk floating inside the cosmic egg. Ge Hong explains that, on the circumference of the celestial sphere, the sun, the moon, and the stars are attached. They rotate together with the sphere like “a turning wheel” in the same direction from east to west, which is accurate from the point of observation on earth. The cosmic “wheel” is mapped out in 365.25 degrees that correspond to the number of days in a solar year displayed on the Armillary Sphere. Dividing the degrees into two halves, provides an explanation for the fact that, as the result of celestial rotation, the sun, the moon, and the constellations appear and disappear from the observation point on earth. The passage makes only one reference to Qi: “Qi supports heaven and earth as they move carrying water.” The reference is meaningful in the context of the “egg” metaphor. The cosmos has three layers: earth (yolk), water (including earthly and meteorological waters), and Qi (egg white). The reference to supporting Qi speaks for the outer circle farther away from the sphere of water, where celestial bodies are located. “The One dwells in the great pool of nothingness at the North Polar region” (IC



the one185

324). The Constellations converge at celestial north to give the cardinal direction to the Armillary Sphere. Therefore, Qi means two things. On the one hand, it is the potency of the living cosmos—the supportive stuff that fills the cosmos. On the other hand, its potency is shown through its astronomical location. Qi functions as the inner energy of the cosmos that rotates heaven from the east to the west around the axis defined by the Constellations at the celestial North Pole, which is also Qi’s position. The invisible Qi is made visible through celestial motions rotating like “a turning wheel.” The movements of the sun, the moon, the planets, and the stars (unlike Plato’s fixed stars, the Constellations move on the axis) collectively display the cosmic potency. Against this astronomical context, the continuity argument between the One and the many can be explained. The current cosmos possesses mathematical orders and contains material contents, whereas the precosmos was formless. How does Ge Hong make a connection between cosmogony and cosmology? An important connection can be found in the opening passage of Zhenzhong shu 枕中書 (The Book inside the Pillow). Long ago Yin and Yang were undistinguished, oceans and heavenly water were nebulous, heaven and earth and the sun and the moon were not actualized. The primordial cosmos was in the shape of an egg, and the center of formlessness was mysteriously like a yolk in an egg. At that time the creator with the self-proclaimed title “the Heavenly Lord of the Primordial Beginning” (yuanshi tianwang 元始天王) already existed as the vigor of the precosmos.2 Apart from turning cosmogony into theogony, the passage contains another articulation of the “egg” theory. The shared metaphor draws a parallel between cosmogony and cosmology. It is the same “egg” that carries the continuity of the cosmos at two stages. The discontinuity is marked by primordial formlessness and astronomical patterns. The latter contain celestial bodies in orderly motions, which the Armillary Sphere has been designed to imitate. The former has no traceable order; the gravitative center is mysterious. Prior to the separation of Yin and Yang, formlessness was the only attribute of the precosmos. Cognitive knowledge requires distinctions, yet there was no distinction prior to the creation. Thus the passage demonstrates no precise knowledge except to name the mystery of the “egg.” But because of the shared metaphor, an important consistency of two cosmic “eggs” has been established. Compared with the nothingness of Xuan, Qi is something. Ge Hong once more makes an anthropomorphic image for the “vigor of the precosmos” and calls the immortal “the Heavenly Lord of the Primordial Beginning.” The divine title, as is indicated in a later edition of the book (DZ

186

comparative ontology

3, 269), may be connected to the older legendary figure Pangu 盤古, who lived within the formlessness alone before he separated heaven’s Yang from the earth’s Yin.3 However, Ge Hong has not mentioned the creator Pangu elsewhere in the Inner Chapters. The term yuanshi 元始 is used only once in the context of bodily alchemy, where Ge Hong says “invite the three [celestial] forms [of the sun, moon, and stars] into the bright hall [between eyebrows] and fly the Primordial Beginning [the primordial Qi] in order to smelt the body” (IC 111).4 In bodily alchemy, the Primordial Beginning refers to the primordial Qi, as Ge Hong calls the whole cultivation procedure the method “to preserve the feminine and to embrace the One” (shouci baoyi 守雌抱一) (IC 111). The principle of internal cultivation involves two important phases: one is to invite the cosmos into the body so the body can be transformed into a cosmic vessel; the other is to smelt the primordial Qi in order to transform the body. At the end, the adept no longer breathes in air, but the primordial Qi, thus becoming an immortal. The state of “breathing like a fetus” (taixi 胎息) is akin to the astronomical model. The Primordial Beginning breathes like a fetus in the womb of Xuan that sets off the great beginning. In Ge Hong’s cosmogony, the term yuanshi 元始 is also associated with the term dashi 大始 (the great beginning). The world began when “Xuan breathed out of the breath of the great beginning (吐呐大始)” (IC 1). To place the Heavenly Lord inside the precosmic “egg” is to place a living identity inside formlessness. The Lord dwells in formlessness just like an immortal being, who “embraces purity and preserves simplicity, exists without desire and without change,” yet his life “has infused into the nothingness and become equal with the creative Nature” (IC 3). Overall the Heavenly Lord is the anthropomorphic equivalent of Qi. Life is the continuity between the cosmogonical egg and the cosmological egg. They are the same egg at two different stages of its evolution. The Continuity of Qi During the creation, this “egg” has been “hatched” into the cosmological “egg.” The “yolk” has materialized into the center of the universe, which is the earth. The nebulosity has liquefied into the inner circle of “oceans and heavenly water” around the earth, and the vigor of Qi has been incorporated in the movements of the celestial bodies. The basic categories of existence have emerged out of the shapeless yet potent life of the cosmogonical “egg.” The whole image of the egg shares a remarkable feature in common with another ancient theory known as Xuanye 宣夜 recorded in the “Astronomical Treatise” two pages before Ge Hong’s essay. Xi Meng 郗萌 wrote during the Han dynasty: “Heaven has no fixed



the one187

matter. Looking upward, its height is without limit; looking deeply, it is therefore of such a deep blue color. . . . The sun, moon, and stars flow in the midst of nothingness. And every aspect of their movements depends upon the potency of Qi” (AT 279). During the process of “hatching,” the vigor personified by “the Primordial Beginning” diversifies into the two complementary energies of Yin and Yang. The sun, the moon, the earth, the ocean, and heavenly water solidify out of the single nebulosity. The motions of celestial bodies animate the movements of the formless form by turning out circular time divided into 365.25 degrees. Energy, matter, and forms all come to existence from the single vigor. Between the two “eggs,” life persists. The cosmos began with the vigor of the precosmos and is still supported by the same Qi. The difference between two worlds lies in the change from formlessness to forms. It is worth noting that Ge Hong persistently uses the verb “to give birth” (sheng 生). On the one hand, he argues along the medical philosophy exemplified in the Scripture of the Yellow Chamber. Life is the primary form of existence, not restricted to living things on earth. Rather the whole universe is alive. On the other hand, similar to Wang Chong’s materialism, Ge Hong argues that life essentially is material, contrary to Plato’s World Soul. Also contrary to Plato’s stationary soul, Ge Hong’s notion of life in the universe evolves. It supports the world of plurality by diversifying itself from the One to the many. Life and Its Evolution Formless life within an egg can evolve into a life with plural organs—a chick. Likewise, the precosmic “egg” evolves into a cosmic life with the myriad things. Evolution is change. The primordial One first diversifies itself into the two of Yin and Yang. Out of the interplay of two complementary energies, the third emerges, the rhythm of cosmic life. Heavenly rotations of the sun, the moon, and the five observable planets; seasonal changes on earth; the continuation of human generations all have diversified and exemplified the formless life with formed existence. “Having obtained the One, heaven becomes clear, the earth becomes peaceful, humans become reproductive, and the gods become agile” (IC 323). Between an egg and a chick, life is continued by the change from one to many. Between the primordial vigor and the living world, Qi evolves from “the one without the many” to “the one with the many.” The External Continuity Between an egg and a chick, life is continuous. Between the precosmos and the created universe, Qi is also continuous. The continuity between

188

comparative ontology

the ancestor and the descendants is fundamentally creative. “From heaven to earth and the ten thousand things between them, there is nothing that does not rely on Qi to be born” (IC 114).5 “Discerning the pedigree [of all existing matters], [the truth is that] they have all been inducted out of Nature” (IC 284).6 No external thing can affect this principle of Nature. All things must follow the ontological course of Nature and become creative participants in the process of evolution. An egg cannot turn against the evolution of becoming a chick. Similarly, the precosmos cannot hold the potency within, but manifests it outwardly as Nature. An egg is the visible sphere enclosing invisible life. Likewise the cosmos is the visible vessel into which the invisible Qi unfolds. The whole process of moving outward rests on the principle of spontaneity, which is the essence of evolution. Form and Matter Within an egg, body and the spirit are mingled. A chick hatched from an egg particularizes a renewed bond of body and spirit that vivifies the same evolving life. In the precosmic “egg,” matter and form were mingled in the unity of formlessness; in the current cosmos matter and form also shape the basic bond of the myriad existences. The body of the sun without the form of rising and setting cannot be the sun. The moon without changing shapes has no meaning to the lunar month—time. Humans without Qi will be either corpses or ghosts without bodies. This bond between matter and form is not created, but preexistent. Deriving from the harmony of Xuan-Qi, it stages the creative interplay of nothing and something. Emerging out of the creative Nature, it carries the unfolding Nature into the harmonious world. The world of plurality comes to be “from nothing into being,” “from the One to the two (Yin and Yang),” “from the two to the three,” and “from the three to the many.” The “three” is the bond of form and matter that can also be identified as the diversified Qi. The myriad things come to be as the result of different combinations of matter and form, and their Qi can be different. Each form of Qi is life, including celestial, herbal, mineral, and immortal existences. But all forms of life are different because each matter-form unity is unique. When two egg theories are put side by side, the change from one to many becomes evident. The cosmogonical egg The cosmological egg The creative Nature The created Nature Precosmos Cosmos Xuan+Qi form+matter=diversified Qi One Many



the one189

Huntian Cosmology In three hundred years of history from Han to Jin, astronomical debates evolved around three theories: Xuanye 宣夜, Gaitian 蓋天, and Huntian 渾 天. The famous British Sinologist and historian of natural sciences Joseph Needham translated these terms as the following respectively: the Infinite Empty Space theory, the Hemispherical Dome theory, and the Celestial Sphere theory.7 A more recent trend, for example, in Christopher Cullen’s 1996 study, is simply to keep the names in pinyin without any translation.8 Here I follow the new trend. Instead of stretching each term through translation, the pinyin terms invite people to go deeper to understand the distinctive contents of each theory. Needham’s translations are not always helpful, and they can also be misleading. For instance, the first theory does not suggest that space is completely empty, as if it is Newton’s empty space—ontologically meaningless. The Chinese word is “night” (ye 夜) and refers to the night sky. The ancient text clearly explains that “heaven has no fixed matter, looking upward, its height is far reaching without limit” (AT 279).9 This oldest astronomical model depicts the universe as like the night sky, dark and impenetrably deep, and the scope of the cosmos as extending infinitely. This is why Needham chose to label it “infinite.” He further argues that the ancient Chinese conceived the model of an infinite universe before any other tradition.10 By looking through the lens of modern astronomy, Needham found the worldview of infinite space at its infancy. However, Needham’s idea of the infinite universe is more Newtonian then Daoist. The key concept of the night sky is closer to Ge Hong’s theory of Xuan— dark, formless, and infinite. The second model, Gaitian, depicts heaven as being in the shape of a lid covering the earth. It is translated by Needham as the Lid of Heaven theory. But the lid imagery explains nothing about the Confucian ethics behind the astronomical model, a hemispherical lid covering a flat and square earth. The model reflects the Confucian orthodoxy whereby “heaven is round and earth is square” (tianyuan difang 天圓地方). It is interesting that here the underlying principle of astronomy is not natural philosophy but ethics. Spherical heaven contains boundless kindness, whereas the square earth encompasses definable human morality reaching out in four cardinal directions. The highest virtue that humans can achieve is to live out moral lives in conformity with the cosmos. The moralization of cosmology occupied an important position in Chinese politics, particularly as cosmology justified imperial sovereignty. At the same time, cosmology was constantly adjusted by the political process.11 The interplay

190

comparative ontology

of cosmology and politics can be also found in Platonism and throughout the Christian era. The third model, Huntian, is a geocentric model. Unlike Needham’s translation, Celestial Sphere theory, the concept of Huntian denotes a scope of comprehensive and complete. To understand the full content of the astronomical model, we need to ask a further question. Are Xuanye and Huntian related or disassociated? According to Needham, the Huntian model is comparatively similar to the geocentric worldview ordained by the Catholic Church in the prescientific era, whereas the Xuanye model is the earliest equivalent of the modern infinite universe model. 12 Reading the Chinese models through Western categorizations, therefore, the Xuanye and Huntian models are not closely related. But our studies of the two “egg” theories indicate exactly the opposite. Ge Hong’s originality in the astronomical debate can only be recognized by comprehending this connection.

The Huntian Model and the Armillary Sphere To establish the connection between cosmogony and cosmology, two issues need to be investigated. First, the Xuanye and Huntian theories are much closer than modern scholars have imagined. The link between the two theories is the astronomical background against which all alchemical practices are conducted. Second, alchemy and astronomy are closely associated through the study of change. Both empirical studies are connected by the same method—matching theory with reality. These two points will set the comparative platform for the dialogue between Ge Hong’s alchemical universe and Plato’s mathematical universe, between empiricism and idealism. While Confucians favored the Gaitian theory, Daoist alchemists and some Confucians influenced by Daoism defended the “egg” cosmology, which evolved into geocentric astronomy. Among the latter, Zhang Heng was most famous for his instrumentalism. He not only invented the Armillary Sphere, but also built an earthquake detection unit—the Seismometer (didong yi 地動儀).13 He also wrote two texts on the Sphere and its theory: The Marvelous Decree (Ling xian 靈憲) and the Commentary on the Armillary Sphere (Huntianyi zhu 渾天儀注). Ge Hong’s commentary quoted previously summarized the development of the theory up to his time. Evidently the text is short, and many details have not been preserved. To reconstruct the Huntian theory is not a simple task, mainly because neither was it written systematically in a single text, nor was its content explained geometrically—the parameter of modern astronomy inher-



the one191

ited from the Greeks. Modern scholars, however, have reconstructed the theory out of various historical records. Figures 8.1 and 8.2 represent the geometric content. By using these illustrations, we are able to gain some insight into why Ge Hong defended this new worldview. Figure 8.1 represents the cosmic egg. Historically there were two versions of the theory differentiated by the key issue of whether the earth was

Fig. 8.1.  Two disputed models of Huntian cosmology: an earlier model with a flat earth (above); a later model with a spherical earth (below). (Reprinted by permission of Nanjing Daxue Chubanshe from Xu Jie, Zhang Heng pingzhuan [Beijing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe], 210. The original diagram is from Chen Jiujin, “Huntian Shuo de fazhan lishi xintan,” in Keiji shi wenli, edited by Zhongguo Tianwenxue Shi Zhengli Yanjiu Xiaozu [Shanghai: Shanghai keji chubanshe])

192

comparative ontology

flat or spherical. As shown in the upper drawing, the earlier version shows the earth as flat. The belief in a flat earth was central to the Gaitian theory of a semispherical lid covering the flat earth. Evidently this version did not completely break away from the Gaitian theory. Ge Hong’s writing indicates a later correction: “the earth is spherical like a yolk in an egg.” “Qi supports heaven, and the earth flows on the water.” “Heaven rotates with the movement of a turning wheel” on the axis defined by North and South poles. Ge Hong’s version corresponds to the lower drawing in Figure 8.1. Figure 8.2 contains three diagrams. The top left circle is the celestial sphere. The cosmos has two celestial poles forming the axis of rotation, and the axis is aligned on an angle with the line formed by the zenith and the nadir. The great circle at the horizontal level is the earth’s horizon; another great circle intersecting the horizon is the celestial equator. The spherical circle represents the meridian movements in a solar year. The top right drawing represents the terrestrial sphere. The intersection of the zodiac and the equator produce four points: two intersectional points indicate the vernal equinox and autumnal equinox; two tangential points represent the summer solstice and the winter solstice. These four points define the seasons of the solar calendar. The Chinese calendar from very early times adopted a system based on combined solar and lunar movements. The lower diagram in Figure 8.2 is a detailed map of the top right diagram, looking at the cross-section where zodiac and equator intersect. It shows that the celestial equator and the zodiac are not imaginative circles, but are defined by the Twenty-Eight Constellations. The Constellations form two overlapping circles. The vernal equinox and the autumnal equinox are two points produced by the intersecting circles. For many centuries the Constellations have been central to the entire Chinese astronomical system. When the Jesuits arrived in China, they were surprised by the unique system distinct from the Greek and Egyptian astronomies. But they failed to understand it. Greek astronomy relies on the stars’ heliacal risings and settings near the ecliptic. The disadvantage of this system, as Needham points out, is inconsistent observability in different seasons.14 The Constellations, however, are oriented toward the North Pole. Ge Hong clearly points out that “the Twenty-Eight Constellations become half visible and half invisible” within “a turning wheel.” The reference is a key to explaining how the Constellations shape the astronomy. Even though not all of them are observable at any given time, the appearance of the stars on two different circles forms a circumpolar ring. Dividing the ring into 365.25 degrees that radiate from the pole form a



the one193

system like a navigational compass. Modern astronomy has realized that within the celestial compass the sidereal position of the full moon is exactly in opposition to the invisible position of the sun.15 This principle of opposition is remarkable and practical in observatory astronomy. The Greek heliacal stars have an invisibility problem in that the risings and the settings can happen within a very short time when stars are near the horizon. So it is difficult to have accurate observations in certain periods of the solar year. But for the Chinese, even when the

Fig. 8.2.  The celestial and terrestrial spheres of the TwentyEight Constellations: the celestial sphere is at top left; the terrestrial sphere at top right; the Twenty-Eight Constellations below. (Reprinted by permission of Nanjing Daxue Chubanshe from Xu Jie, Zhang Heng pingzhuan [Nanjing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe, 1999], 265)

194

comparative ontology

Constellations are half visible above and half invisible below the horizon, it is possible to work from the navigational compass shaped by the stars and defined by the principle of opposition according to which every point is definable on the celestial equator. The only practical problem is to build an instrument to map the celestial movements and to demonstrate the navigational compass. Zhang Heng’s Sphere is essentially a model of the cosmos based on empirical observation. The invention of the Sphere a century before Ge Hong provided a physical instrument to visualize and predict celestial movements. Various rings were attached to the center of the sphere on which to designate celestial bodies. Just as modern astronomy requires a timing mechanism to keep precise time for astronomical instruments, the Sphere works with a timing vessel called ke lou 刻漏, which is a water clock that measures time with water drips (Figures 8.3, 8.4). The vessel usually contains a group of containers that are arranged in stages by fixing them at varied heights. Time is measured by reading the amount of drip water as cumulated on a continuous scale. The same principle of gravity is used to power the sphere. Water constantly flowing from a fixed height provides a defined and constant hydraulic force to move the instrument at a stable speed. The Sphere enabled the imperial astronomers Zhang Heng and Lu Gongji 陸公紀 to calculate and predict the movement of constellations accurately and to examine the appearance and disappearance of celestial bodies. Ge Hong writes: The copper armillary sphere is placed in a secret chamber and powered by flowing water. An operator is asked to sing a chant inside the chamber with the door closed. He would inform the observer on the tower according to the superposition of the instrument that so-and-so star begins to appear, moves to the center above, and disappears. Two movements [of the constellations and of the Sphere] are perfectly matched just like two matching talismans [hefu 合符]. The inscription by Cui Ziyu 崔子玉 has praised the achievement: “Arithmetic has explained the truth of the cosmos. The crafted sphere matches Nature’s own making. Excellent ability and marvelous skill have brought humans and divines together.” (AT 281)

The passage shows Ge Hong’s precise knowledge of how the instrument works in accordance with the theory. The first half of the passage provides crucial information about the operation of the Sphere. The Sphere in this passage must be larger in size than the later models shown in the illustra-



the one195

Fig. 8.3.  The Armillary Sphere and the water clock: An eleventh-century reproduction of the Sphere (left); a seventh-century water clock with five stages (right). (Reproduced with the permission of the Needham Research Institute from Joseph Needham, Science and Civilisation in China [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959], vol. 3, 350, 325)

tions. Ge Hong indicates that there is an isolated chamber below in which “an operator” can stand with the door closed and a tower above on which “an observer” looks at the sky. The central feature of the operation is the synchronization of the celestial and the instrumental movements. Ge Hong even emphasizes that the operator inside the closed chamber rather than the observer on the tower announces the approach of a particular star. The second half of the passage reveals Ge Hong’s own thought. His instrumental alchemy runs a parallel course with Zhang Heng’s empirical astronomy. Like Zhang Heng, he believes the changing phenomena of Nature conceal universal principles. The movements of the macrocosm can be artificially reproduced in a microcosmic instrument. The Sphere is an instrumental egg. It brings celestial changes and the theory of changes

196

comparative ontology

Fig. 8.4.  A pictorial reconstruction of the astronomical clock tower built by Su Song 蘇頌 (1020–1101) and his collaborators at Kaifeng 开封 in Hunan Province in 1090. The clock combines three main instruments: an armillary sphere on the top platform, a celestial globe in the upper story, and the clock driven by waterwheel in the lower chamber. (Original drawing by John Christiansen, reproduced with the permission of the Needham Research Institute from Joseph Needham, Heavenly Clockwork: The Great Astronomical Clocks of Medieval China [Cambridge: The Antiquarian Horological Society at the University Press, 1960], opening page)

together by creating a match. Ge Hong uses a rather unique Daoist term— “two matching talismans”—to pinpoint the essence of natural study. Talismans (fu 符) are believed to be divine inscriptions written in the sky as astronomical patterns. Ge Hong says, “Talismans came from the Lord Lao [the divinized Laozi]. They all refer to astronomy [tianwen 天文]” (IC 335).16



the one197

Here the key word is “matching.” To create a match means to recapture divine signatures with human knowledge of them. Astronomical phenomena contain divine signatures, whereas the artificial Sphere displays empirical knowledge of Nature by matching instrumental changes with Nature’s own changing course. In Ge Hong’s words, “To correspond [artificial] patterns with [celestial] realities, no other device works more precisely than the instrument of the Huntian model” (AT 281).17 The idea of correspondence exemplified in the word yan 驗 speaks for Ge Hong’s empiricism. Unlike modern scientific empiricism that seeks explicit proof(s) for a hypothetical theory, Ge Hong’s empiricism mainly referred to correspondence between theory and reality. For him, correspondence with movements observable in the macrocosm is an important element in natural study. An attempt to prove the geocentric theory through instrumental means (which may be an implicit feature), however, is not directly evident in this text. What is evident is the belief that theory and reality must correspond just like two matching talismans. Here two types of fu are selected to show diversity as well as similarity. The top part of Figure 8.5 shows a map of constellations. The celestial inscriptions represent how certain constellations appear at a particular time and are observed from a specific viewing degree. At the lower right is a group of divine inscriptions in seal script characters. The lower left shows a Daoist checking time on the gnomon. This illustrates the motif of “matching talismans.” In this case, what is to be matched is invisible. Cyclical Time What is common to the cosmic egg and the instrumental egg is change. Zhang Heng has an instrument of change—the Armillary Sphere; Ge Hong also has an instrument of change—the alchemical crucible. Heavenly truths are manifested through the change in the likeness of a rotating wheel. The key word “rotation” or “turning” (zhuan 轉) is exactly the same word used to describe the number of cycles of change in instrumental alchemy. By ascertaining circular changes, the alchemical vessel assimilates the process of change in Nature. The Sphere recapitulates celestial patterns of rotation; the cycles of alchemical change make alchemical principles perceptible. For Ge Hong there is an intrinsic connection between astronomy and alchemy. The connection is change. Because the world is made of Qi, it turns the Twenty-Eight Constellations in motion (IC 1) and moves the circle of seasonal change on earth (IC 323). It also enables the alchemical rotation such that “lead is white, but by the change of becoming red it turns into cinnabar; cinnabar is red, but by the process of whitening it

Fig. 8.5.  Heavenly inscriptions: A map of constellations (tianwen 天文) (above); a Daoist reading the gnomon (below left); a group of divine inscriptions (fu 符) (below right). (The first two illustrations are reproduced with the permission of the Needham Research Institute from Joseph Needham, Science and Civilisation in China, vol. 3 [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959), 277, 306]. The last one is a group of talismans in Ge Hong’s Inner Chapters [311, 314] rewritten in calligraphy by the author)



the one199

becomes lead” (IC 284). The astronomical instrument and the alchemical vessel explore the same origin of the changes, by a similar instrumental method to assimilate change. Like the astronomical instrument of change, the alchemical vessel is a miniature of the cosmic egg. By reenacting the cosmic egg, which is potently awakening, it too becomes an alchemical egg in which Qi is spontaneously in the making through cyclical reconstruction of matter. The crucial part of the assimilation is the knowledge of what governs changes. Alchemical principles inhere inside the crucible where matter is decomposed and recomposed. But to unveil these principles, alchemists must know how to create rotation. Rotation is motion through time. Unlike modern time, which is an abstract concept, for the ancient Chinese time is filled with material changes. Therefore, time is a concrete process. For astronomers, the Sphere is a time mechanism. It correlates celestial time with its internal clock—the timing vessel—regulated by water. The essence of time is change. For alchemists, time is also measured by the number of cycles. But the timing of each cycle is the most secret part of compounding elixirs. It is regulated not by the fluxing water, but by the changing fire. Minerals and metals can neither yield changing phenomena, nor can they produce elixirs, unless the regulation of fire is done under the specific timing measured in cycles. The growth of new matter has its internal clock too. And this clock is artificially re-created by the regulation of fire, with which elixirs are refined and linked to soteriological effects, which are also related to time. Similar to the cosmic vessel with the sun and the moon to display circular time in the heavens, comparable to the earthly vessel with seasonal changes to display earthly time, the alchemical vessel incubates the growth of matter by inserting circular time—the material time represented by elixirs—into the decomposition and recomposition of matter. What the insertion of time achieves is change at an accelerated speed. But no matter whether time is at a natural rate or an accelerated speed, the essence of time is still observable change. Against the alchemical unity of change, there is a methodological question here. We can ask Needham and scientifically minded Daoist scholars a one and many question. Could Qi be a unity for astronomy, alchemy, and medicine that have been understood separately because of scientific categorizations? Insofar as the astronomy-alchemy comparison has been viewed through the OM perspective, no matter whether the means of natural study is astronomical or alchemical, the common subject is change. Ge Hong did not explain change in plural contexts by distinguishing astronomical change and alchemical change as two categories of material change. Rather, he envisioned that change itself was essentially a unity. Change is the irreducible reality of cosmic life.

200

comparative ontology

The unity in the astronomical sense is the Qi that supports and turns the wheel of celestial phenomena. The unity in the alchemical sense is the Qi that shapes and reshapes matter. But both forms of Qi are material in nature, just as the cyclic time. It brings matter and form together into a natural bond that has potency of its own. And this material unity of matter and form is called by alchemists dan 丹—elixir. The material essence, which has been incubated out of the alchemical egg, shares the same potency as the Qi in the cosmic egg. The Sphere gives a visible expression to the one and the many in astronomical theory. The alchemical crucible gives Ge Hong’s alchemical OM theory a laboratory instrument. The Sphere studies Nature in the present process, whereas the alchemical crucible studies the process of Nature in its original form. The former has shaped the empirical study of cosmology; the latter has pioneered the instrumental study of cosmogony. The former aims to know the oneness of the many, the latter the manyness of the One.

Empiricism: To Match Theory with Reality Needham is correct on Chinese empiricism. Contrary to Greek theoretical and geometrical astronomy, which as we shall see shortly is traceable to Plato, “Chinese astronomy participated in a fundamental empiricism.”18 In the Jinshu, apart from the short passage on the “commentary” on the Sphere, a large portion of Ge Hong’s astronomical writings are arguments on empirical issues. Without adequate answers, the Huntian theory could easily fail to explain reality. This was the way that Ge Hong became involved in the debate between the Gaitian and Huntian theories. The debate also indicates that Ge Hong’s astronomical study is not simply a detour from his alchemical tradition. He was immersed in the debate and defended and advanced geocentrism. The main reason for him to advance astronomy as an alchemist can be put as simply as his metaphor of two matching talismans. Idealism hopes to fix realities into a grand unifying theory. Empiricism aims to combine theory and reality by verifying theory against reality. The Shape of the Earth Is the earth flat or spherical? Zhang Heng wrote in his Lingxian 靈憲: “The form of the heavens derives from Yang; therefore, it is round and moves. The form of the earth derives from Yin; it thus appears to be flat and at rest.” This particular passage made the egg theory problematic but consistent with the Confucian orthodoxy of the “round heavens and flat earth” worldview. Zhang Heng’s compromising acceptance of the orthodoxy cre-



the one201

ated an ambiguity for the astronomical model historically that still causes confusion and debate among modern scholars.19 Like many Confucians of his time, Zhang Heng lived in the shadow of the famous Confucian scholar Dong Zhongshu 董仲舒 (179–104 BC). Historically the idea “heavens and humans become one” (tianren heyi 天 人合一) has been a shared vision of Confucian and Daoist intellectuals. However, it was Dong Zhongshu who first systematized the idea and transformed it into an even more forceful argument called “the induction between heaven and humanity” (tianren ganying 天人感應). In his celebrated work Chunqiu fanlu 春秋繁露, Dong said: “The Yin Qi of heaven and earth emerges; subsequently the Yin Qi of humans rises. The rising of Yin Qi in humans also causes the Yin Qi of the cosmos to emerge. The Dao is the same” (book 13). The argument does not only state that heaven has profound influences on human existence, but also that humans can influence the course of heaven. The influence is bidirectional, because humans and the heaven principles share the same origin in the Dao. Therefore, it is called induction. The induction theory had a profound influence on astronomy during the Jin period. But it also has its limits. In the “Astronomical Treatise,” the passage on the five perceptible planets clearly reflects the need to correspond natural phenomena with Confucian ethics. The content is highly systematized; Table 8.1 provides a summary.20 In the table, the induction theory explains the correspondence between

Table 8.1.  The Five Phases and celestial-moral correspondence in the “Astronomical Treatise” Direction

Ancient Name

Modern Name

Five Phases

Virtue

東 East

歲星 The Year Star

木星 Jupiter

木 Wood

仁 Kindness

南 South

熒惑 The Twinkling Star

火星 Mars

火 Fire

理 Decency

西 West

太白 The Morning White

金星 Venus

金 Metal

義 Honesty

北 North

辰星 The Hourly Star

水星 Mercury

水 Water

智 Wisdom

中 Middle

填星 The Exorcist

土星 Saturn

土 Earth

信 Faith

202

comparative ontology

five planets and four cardinal virtues. The philosophy is clearly the traditional Yin-Yang and Five Phases system, but further developed by Dong Zhongshu. Thus five directions, five planets, the Five Phases, and five virtues form a unique system of semi-astrology and semi-astronomy. However, the purpose of the system is not to explain planetary patterns, but rather to use cosmic phenomena to explain historical affairs. The core interest is not natural studies, but ethics. Viewed against the historical background, it is not difficult to understand why Zhang Heng’s astronomy was entangled in and limited by morality. Contrary to Zhang Heng’s ambiguity, Ge Hong’s astronomical writing indicates the abandonment of “the flat earth” orthodoxy. Consequently natural studies were freed from the contemporary ethics. The egg model stood out clearly; heaven and earth were concentric spheres. The correction from the “flat earth” to “the round earth” represents a remarkable step from ethical astrology to empirical astronomy. This step took nearly two hundred years to complete, and it was made possible by Zhang Heng and Ge Hong, who created two instrumental models to study the changing universe. While many contemporary thinkers still lived in the shadow of Dong’s induction theory, Ge Hong showed no attachment to the lingering orthodoxy. Instead, his writings continued to focus on empirical matters. The Problem of Sunset In the Gaitian theory, heaven rotates like a lid horizontally. This raises a problem regarding sunset. If the sun rotates with the semispherical heaven, where does the sun go after dark? According to Wang Chong, a strong advocate of the old theory, the sun never sets but only horizontally moves far away toward the North Pole. To understand the argument and Ge Hong’s critique and correction, it is necessary to explain the underlying problems from which Wang Chong is unable to cut loose. Two versions of the Gaitian theory have been preserved in the “Astronomical Treatise.” (a) “According to the early school called Zhou Bei Jia 周碑家, ‘the heavens are round like a lid, the earth is square like a cheeseboard. The heavens rotate just like a millstone turning left. The sun and the moon rotate right inside of the left-turning heavens. Therefore both the sun and the moon actually travel eastward while the heavens pull them westward’” (AT 279). Modern scholars generally agree that this “round heavens flat earth” model was the first stage in the appearance of the Gaitian theory.21 (b) This early version was superseded by the double-lid model, one large lid enclosing another small lid. The “Astronomical Treatise” provides the following description of the second version, attributed to Cai Yong 蔡邕.



the one203 Heaven is similar to a bamboo hat, and the earth is like a basin turned upside down [天似蓋笠地法覆盤]. Heaven and the earth both are elevated in the middle and low on the periphery. Under the North Pole is the center of heaven and the earth, where the land is situated at the highest position; the surrounding land slopes down from the center. The appearance and disappearance of the sun, the moon, and the stars determine day and night. On the day of midwinter, the heavens [at the North Pole] are higher than the outermost barrier-declination-circle [waiheng 外衡] by 60,000 li 裏.22 The earth under the North Pole is also higher than its peripheries under the outermost barrier-declinationcircle by 60,000 li. The heavens’ outermost barrier-declination-circle is higher than the earth beneath the North Pole by 20,000 li. The heavens and the earth are like concentric domes with a constant distance of 80,000 li from the sun to the earth. The sun attaches to and shifts with the heavens. Between the seasons of winter and summer, the movement of the sun covers the “map of seven barriers and six paths” [qiheng liujian 七衡六間].23 The diameter and circumference of each barrier in li can be calculated according to the similar right triangles [gougu chongcha 勾 股重差] and the shadow lengths of the gnomon; the obtained measurements either far or near can all come from the calculation methods. Therefore, the methods are called Zhou Bei 周碑. (AT 278–279)

The text describes the complex Gaitian theory. Modern scholars have shown a great degree of interest in the mathematical nature of the theory. Figure 8.6 presents a detailed reconstruction.24 A recent study by Cullen rightly argues that the primary feature of the theory is to define celestial time for a functional calendar, and this practical issue has been overlooked in previous studies.25 Since Ge Hong never disputed the agricultural purpose of the Chinese calendar, we go directly to the astronomical structure in the Gaitian theory. Certainly, mathematics had found an important role when the Gaitian theory was developed. However, for the current purpose, it is only necessary to highlight two features of the text to explain Ge Hong’s argument on the issue of sunset. The main feature is the location of the celestial axis at the North Pole. The heavenly lid rotates around the axis just like a turning millstone; the sun also orbits the pole like a circumpolar star that never sets but illuminates different portions of the earth at different times of the day. Ge Hong explores the empirical problem. He argues, “The sun rises from the east, moves upwards, sets in the west, and disappears in the night. The phenomena prove that the sun never goes to the [upward] North Pole” (AT 283).

Fig. 8.6.  Reconstruction of the Gaitian theory. (Original drawing by Herbert Chatley; reproduced by permission of the Needham Research Institute from Joseph Needham, Science and Civilisation in China [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959], vol. 3, 212)



the one205

The second feature is the mathematics related to two principles. The first one derived from the early school of Zhou Bei 周碑. In the early part of the passage, the word bei 碑 is given a strained interpretation as gu 股, “thigh,” gnomon of zhou, which is the second word of the term Gou Gu 勾 股—the right triangle principle. The gnomon works on this right triangle principle. 26 The fixed height of the gnomon casts a moving shadow of the sun on a table with preconfigured points divided in hours. By knowing the height of the gnomon (A) and the measurable shadow (B), one can calculate the hypotenuse (C) according to the equation A2 + B 2 =C 2 . An astronomical hypothesis is hidden in the principle. As the gnomon shows, the Gaitian theory holds that celestial movements and time are mathematically connected through the same right triangle principle. Another principle is the circumference principle c =2πr. Based on the already known value π=3.1415926, the Gaitian theory explains the semispherical heaven and earth with the principle of circumference. By placing the right triangle inside the semispheres, mathematically it becomes possible to do key calculations about the cosmos based on the right triangle principle and the circumference principle. The measurements in the text of the “Astronomical Treatise” derive from the calculations by applying both principles to the astronomical structures.27 Certainly the measurements are incorrect. But they betoken a major attempt to explain the cosmos mathematically. The attempt is comparable with Plato’s mathematical astronomy. The advance in mathematics it entailed made the Gaitian theory more appealing to generations of thinkers, including Wang Chong, prior to the invention of the Armillary Sphere. The theory is certainly sophisticated, but, as Ge Hong points out, it failed to explain the phenomenon of sunset. Wang Chong knew the problem and attempted to solve it. “When the sun appears, it is closer; when it sets, it becomes too far away to be seen. Thus it appears to have disappeared from the earth” (LH 2, “On the Sun,” 490–491). He further argues: “To prove this point, it only requires a person to hold a torch and walk on a path in the night. This is quite easy and has no danger. When the torch has moved to less than a mile away, the light seems to disappear. In fact it does not disappear, but it is too far away to be seen” (LH 2, “On the Sun,” 491–492). The argument is false. The illusion of disappearing and the fact of disappearing are not interchangeable. Ge Hong exposes this fallacy. If the sun does not disappear but only becomes distant, it should get smaller. But when the sun rises and sets, it in fact appears to be bigger. Ge Hong certainly did not know that light traveling through different mediums could cause refraction. But his argu-

206

comparative ontology

ment has a shape point. And it is based on observation, not speculation. He further says, “Wang Chong’s supporting example should agree with what the sun demonstrates. But it actually contradicts the fact; therefore, it is fallacious” (AT 283). What destroys Wang Chong’s argument is another crucial observation that Ge Hong employs. During sunrise and sunset, the sun changes from a full circle to a semicircle just like “a mirror broken into half horizontally” and then disappears below the horizon. This proves the sun ascends from the horizon and descends under it. Wang Chong’s Gaitian theory could not explain this basic fact. Wang Chong attempted to refit reality into the old theory, but the new theory simply explains the phenomenon of sunset by viewing the sun as one of many celestial bodies that rotate with the cosmic wheel. Ge Hong further points out that the theory can explain eclipses of the sun and varied shapes of the moon (AT 283). Unfortunately he has not explained how, but only left a reference. “The radius of the sun is measured in thousands of miles. Its circumference is more than three times the radius. There are about ten smaller celestial bodies between the sun and the earth” (AT 283). The reference to “celestial bodies between the sun and the earth” is the key to explaining eclipses, even though Ge Hong has not explained it for us. The Huntian theory can explain eclipses as long as eclipses are viewed as shadows of celestial bodies. A solar eclipse is the shadow of the moon that moves to the line between the sun and the earth. And a lunar eclipse is the shadow of the earth in the same line between the sun and the moon. The Rotation of Heaven Zhang Heng argued, “The earth floats on water” (zaishui erfu 載水而浮). If we look at Figure 8.1 at the beginning of this chapter, we can see a problem. The earth is either a flat plane or a solid sphere floating on water like a ball. Water occupies the great circle horizontal to the eyes of observers. According to the theory, the rotation of heaven implies that heaven must enter into the water and emerge out of it, as do all celestial bodies within this cosmic wheel. Wang Chong makes his critique by asking: “How does heaven pass through the water? It is absurd” (AT 281). Ge Hong addresses this crucial question by attacking Wang Chong’s preoccupation with the Gaitian theory. The old model did not have the same problem, because the lid of heaven does not rotate vertically but only horizontally around the North Pole. However, Ge Hong has made a misguided attack. Wang Chong’s question has an empirical point that appears in his book Arguments Weighed in the Balance. “If one digs twelve feet into the



the one207

earth, water appears. How can heaven travel through this water? It cannot be true” (AT 281).28 The problem becomes more acute for the rising and setting sun. It seemed that the sun would have to set in the west, go under the water, and emerge from the east. Again Wang Chong’s argument is problematic based on generalization. Underground water does not represent all water. Ge Hong should have explored this problem and argued that even in the lid model heaven envelops the water around the earth but does not travel through it. Instead he addresses the background Yin-Yang philosophy used by Wang Chong. According to that philosophy, the sun belonged to the positive Yang, whereas water belonged to the negative Yin. Wang Chong argued that this order could not be disturbed (LH 2, “On the Sun,” 500). Ge Hong quoted a phrase from the Book of Changes and replied with the analogy “Heaven is the dragon.” The analogy suggests that the dragon (symbolizing the Yang of the sun) was able to reach heaven and dive into the water (the sphere of Yin) (AT 282). Has Ge Hong answered Wang Chong’s question at all? Some modern scholars mistakenly believe that “Ge Hong has avoided the question completely.” 29 But they have overlooked the context of the astronomical debate. It is already implied that if Wang Chong had followed Ge Hong’s version rather than Zhang Heng’s version of the Huntian theory, he would not even have raised the question. The solution is simple. The problem is not about heaven going through water, but about the shape of the water. The argument can be reconstructed. Wang Chong’s attack is based on the old version that has a “flat earth” and “flat water”: The water is a flat plane on which the earth floats. Heaven rotates. Thus heaven must somehow go through water.

Ge Hong’s defense was based on the new version that has a spherical earth and spherical water: Water is a sphere surrounding the earth. Heaven rotates. Thus heaven does not go through water.

These arguments diverge on the premises that set the Gaitian and the Huntian theories apart. Ge Hong establishes the premise in the first paragraph of his essay. “Heaven forms the shape of an egg.” The egg theory has

208

comparative ontology

three spherical layers: heaven, atmospheric water, and the earth, just as there are three layers in an egg: a yolk, egg white, and eggshell. The commentator Qiu Guanting 邱光庭 of the Five Dynasties period made these layers geometrically more distinct. “The Master Embracing Simplicity says: ‘Four thousand miles away from the earth, there is the sphere in which Qi is hard, so celestial bodies do not fall’. . . . Heaven encloses Qi, Qi encloses water, and water encloses the earth.” 30 We can explain the egg theory accordingly. (A) The center is the spherical earth “like a yolk.” (B) The middle layer is the meteorological heaven “like egg white.” Ge Hong has made the point explicit by saying, “There is water on the inner surface of heaven.” From an earthly point of observation, the inner surface of heaven indicates the surface of heaven closer to the earth. Wang Chong focuses only on groundwater and underground water on earth. Ge Hong’s heavenly water is located on the inner surface of heaven as moisture in clouds to generate rain and snow. (C) The central feature of the geocentric cosmos is the outer layer of heaven. Ge Hong says: “Qi supports heaven and the earth as they move by carrying water.” This supporting Qi in the geometry of the egg means the outer layer of heaven where the celestial bodies are located. This three-layer cosmology negates Wang Chong’s criticism. Neither the turning heaven nor any celestial bodies need to enter into water at all. They never travel through water, but travel through Qi. This is the essence of the Huntian theory. The theory and the empirical knowledge of heaven’s rotation cohere. There is one more outstanding question. Why does Ge Hong employ the symbolism of a dragon to defend the theory on another front attacked by Wang Chong’s knowledge of Yin-Yang philosophy? There is a hidden argument about Qi here. The dragon can go between Yin and Yang: the symbolism rejects the criticism based on the assumption that the division between heaven and water cannot be disturbed. The symbolism would have been clear to ancient ears. The dragon could also symbolize vitality. Ge Hong describes with regard to inner cultivation that the cosmic Qi “is encircled by dragons and tigers” (IC 324). In the cosmological sense the invisible vigor of universal Qi is made visible through the dragon. Thus the dragon offers an alternative explanation to the duality of Yin and Yang. Qi was the formless unity prior to the rising of Yin and Yang. Qi is Ge Hong’s real defense. The introduction of Qi also invites a crucial question that leads to another contribution made by Ge Hong. Why do celestial bodies float in the sky without falling down? Ge Hong says: “Qi supports heaven and earth.” The point is later made explicit by Ma Yongqing 馬永卿 (1109?) of



the one209

the Five Dynasties. “The master said: ‘Forty li away from the earth, there is a sphere in which Qi is hard, so celestial bodies do not fall.’ 31 It can be inferred that the outer sphere possesses the supportive strength, not the earth alone, which contains material Qi. Therefore, the reason why the sun, the moon, the stars, and the planets are supported without falling is all about this hard Qi [gangqi 刚气].” 32 Modern scholars have pointed out that Ge Hong’s concept of “hard Qi” had an irreversible impact on later thinkers. For instance, the renowned Song scholar Zhu Xi 朱熹 argued that the heaven had nine rotating layers, and celestial bodies moved like objects in a vortex. 33 Certainly the commentary by Ma Yongqing suggested a distinction between the “hard Qi” supporting heaven and the “soft Qi” in internal alchemy. No matter whether it is hard or soft, it has the common feature of being supportive. It might appear odd to think that the layers of heaven are supported by Qi. But one can make a comparison with Newton’s law of gravity. Prior to Newton’s discovery of gravity, there was no clear explanation as to why celestial bodies float in the sky by themselves. According to Newton’s law, gravity is associated with mass. As long as material objects are there, gravity will be there. Gravity functions as a force that brings celestial bodies into the balanced relationship. In other words, gravity is the internal web of the material cosmos. But this web attached to nothing, where matter is gravity also. The theory of supportive Qi can produce a similar answer. In the cosmic egg, the web of Qi attached to nothing. As far as celestial bodies exist, the web of material Qi is there because Qi is the unity of form and matter. Similar to Newton’s gravity between celestial bodies, Qi is the supportive medium. Modern scholars have not realized the crucial connection. Ge Hong neither invented the idea of supportive Qi, nor did he create the cosmic egg theory. The concept of universal Qi already existed in the oldest Xuanye theory. “The sun, the moon, and stars naturally float inside formlessness. Their movements all depend upon the single Qi” (AT 279). Ge Hong knew the theory. He accepted the idea of Qi and criticized the idea of heaven-human induction in “The Thesis of Heavenly Peace” (“Antian lun” 安天論) recorded just two pages before his own essay (AT 280).34 He also partly accepted the egg theory, though he criticized its incompleteness. “According to ancient Confucian theory, the body of heaven and earth is in the shape of a bird’s egg” (AT 285). He accepted the egg theory shared by both Daoists and Confucians, but he rejected measurements of the cosmos because for him the cosmos was infinite in the likeness of Xuan. To put these two points together in their historical setting, Ge Hong created a hybrid theory, though it is not directly evident in his text. He

210

comparative ontology

kept the essence of the Xuanye theory, namely, the infinite universe. But he extracted the old mathematical content and inserted the idea of Qi into this ancient Confucian egg. What he has achieved is a new life. The cosmic genealogy has been continued in the new form. The Daoist concept of supportive and soteriological Qi becomes the core of two cosmological models. This Qi has rejuvenated the ancient Confucian egg. In the historical background, where Daoist heterodoxy lived under the shadow of Han Confucian orthodoxy, Ge Hong not only turned the tables of argument, but also reconciled the Xuanye and Huntian theories, one associated with Daoist cosmogony and the other representing empirical astronomy. The reconciliation in itself is an argument about cosmic evolution from one to many. And this argument has already been anticipated in the first paragraph of the Inner Chapters, where Ge Hong names the infinite Xuan. Contrary to the Gaitian theory, which calculated the scope of the cosmos mathematically, Ge Hong never attempted to fit the cosmos into any measurable limits. In the same passage by Ma Yongqing, there is a conclusive sentence yet to mention. Having been inspired by Ge Hong’s “hard Qi,” the commentator says, “Now I will not believe that there is any definite distance from the ground to heaven.” 35 The cosmological egg is an infinite one. Natural Studies as Two Matching Talismans In the “Astronomical Treatise” Ge Hong recounts the following story to describe his method of natural studies. Huan Tan 桓譚 (40 BC–AD 30) demonstrated a point to the cosmologist Yang Xiong 楊雄 (53 BC–AD 18) at the Western Gallery of White Tiger Hall during the sunset. As the sun set in the west, Yang Xiong, with his back facing the sun, could no longer feel the warmth. Huan Tan then explained, “If heaven could be compared with a millstone turning right [the model of the Gaitian theory], the sun should turn accordingly, and the light should cast the shadow of this gallery and move gradually eastward but should not fade away. In fact it has just set. This reality agrees with the geocentric theory whereby the sun rotates to the other side of the earth” (AT 282). By recounting this story, Ge Hong makes his point vividly. The Gaitian theory first fitted heaven and earth into the “round heavens and square earth” ethical orthodoxy, then used mathematics to explain the cosmos, as if the entire cosmic structure were determined by two principles. But both mathematical and ethical models failed to explain the phenomena of the sun. The geocentric theory, however, exemplified the maturing school of empiricism that emphasized the correspondence between theory and reality. On the one hand, it explained astronomical realities. On the other



the one211

hand, the realities became the criteria of the theory. Theory and reality formed a balanced tension. For Ge Hong, the tension can be as simply put as the story. Yang Xiong could no longer feel the warmth of the sun after the sunset. The Gaitian theory cannot explain this primary fact away because the fact also verifies whether the theory is true. If the theory is true, then it does not only explain why one feels the warmth of the sun, but also gives the reality a coherent expression when the warmth has gone. The method of “two matching talismans” contains two OM models: one intellectual and another empirical. But both are the reflections of the same reality. That reality is the cosmos. The Huntian theory provides an intellectual telescope through which one can gaze at the night sky with a fresh OM lens. Any observer would be impressed by the new theory or the technological achievement of the Sphere. But what really inspired the ancient minds were the astronomical phenomena. Cosmological studies can be impressive and sophisticated. Nonetheless they are approximate representations of the complex cosmos. No matter how the Huntian theory was advanced at the time, it was still a glimpse of the boundless universe. “Two matching talismans” is not a fixed balance. It is creative and evolving. Every generation has the responsibility to play out the tension by including new empirical data. The play can be seen through the liturgical use of talismans that aims to reactivate the fusion between the macro and the micro in the moment of ritual performance. But through the performance, Daoist naturalism is implicitly expressed. Fundamentally natural studies recapture what has already existed and are at work in Nature. All that studies can do is to make the hidden reality apparent. Ge Hong’s lifetime empirical study was alchemy, not astronomy. He believed that Nature follows its own creative accord. The principle of indeterminate action seeks no control over Nature. Rather Daoists act like an astronomical instrument or an alchemical crucible as vessels so that Nature can display invisible signatures in and through visible means. What instrumentalism can achieve is rather like an enlightened Daoist adept who becomes an instrument to animate the creative core of Nature. As the eulogy quoted by Ge Hong says, Zhang Heng made the Sphere to animate “Nature’s own making.” Likewise, alchemists are not magicians who give people the illusion of creating something out of nothing. They are mediators who construct an artificial instrument in which Nature takes care of the making. What happens inside the reaction chamber is entirely beyond alchemists’ control. The only thing that they can control is the circular time regulated by the cycles of fire that accelerate the cosmic process of change. This ethical principle of indeterminate action functions as

212

comparative ontology

the backbone of Daoist empiricism. It radically opens alchemists toward Nature while they actively work to preserve what Nature unveils in the vessels, which is materialized life, called Qi.

The Creation of the World Soul: Plato’s Cosmological Unity In comparing Qi with Plato’s World Soul, we face two immediate difficulties. Qi is the evolving life, whereas the World Soul is the rational principle of the changing world. Qi is material, whereas the Soul is psychological. Qi is one, whereas the Soul contains three parts. To create a dialogue between the concepts, we must first work within the conceptual limits through the texts and then move beyond them. The Creation of the World Soul The book Timaeus has been closely studied by ancient and modern scholars, primarily because it represents Plato’s natural philosophy. Although the book is written in a mystical genre of theogony, in the past century scholars have turned their attention to Plato’s wide-ranging engagements with pre-Socratic thinkers, especially the mathematical content, which are enveloped in the arguments on the World Soul and the architecture of matter. Among the major studies, Cornford’s Plato’s Cosmology remains the milestone work.36 More recent studies, not all but to a large degree, still walk in the shadow of Cornford’s commentary.37 This is because the commentary has provided many rational explanations regarding this historically mystical text, which have inspired generations of scholars to comprehend Plato’s natural philosophy yet proven to be resilient to the efforts at demythologization. My study, therefore, engages with Cornford’s scientific interpretation but attempts to prove that many aspects of his rational explanation are actually false, even though they appear to be self-explanatory. On this basis, I offer a Daoist evaluation with the premise that ancient and modern cosmological studies are not meant to be a representation of the universe but an approximation of it. Against pre-Socratic materialism, Plato’s doctrine of creation is the fullscale elaboration of his idealism. The Demiurge personifies immaterial Reason as the cosmogonical One. The precosmos was in a state of flux and had “no homogeneity or balance” to fill the chaotic space (52e). Prior to the creation, the elements were disorderly in a dreaming state unorganized and disjointed with eternal Forms. Similar to a human craftsman standing before a pile of disorderly materials, the Demiurge “took over” the “discordant and unordered motions” (30a) and once for all organized



the one213

the elements according to Forms. Out of this divine act, the first born out of Reason was the World Soul. By “implanting” Reason in the Soul (30b), the world was virtually awakened by the divine mind. “In the likeness” of the creator, the Soul was created as “the living being” (30c). Plato’s Reason and Soul stand for the continuity between cosmogony and cosmology, which is comparable to Ge Hong’s Qi that carries the continuity between the precosmic egg and the egg of the current universe. Reason is comparable with the creative Qi in the precosmic egg, whereas the Soul is comparable with the Qi supporting the living universe. However, the key difference is the emphasis. Ge Hong uses the single word “Qi” to highlight the continuity between cosmogony and cosmology. The discontinuity is articulated in terms of the genealogical difference between the ancestor and his progenies. Plato employs the logic of causality to emphasize the discontinuity between Reason and the Soul, the creator and the created. The continuity, in contrast, is expressed through the word “likeness.” Although the Soul is created in the “likeness” of Reason, it is nonetheless the “visible” living being of the invisible Reason. The continuity of “likeness” comes as the determinative act of the creator to infuse intelligence into the created. Another comparative issue more relevant to Plato is the tension of motion and rest. Since Qi is always evolving, what is at rest is therefore in relation to the mother Xuan. Qi inheres within the world and remains to be the inner drive to turn the wheel of change. Similarly the Soul is the moving image of the resting Reason. Plato says, “The god created a single visible living being, containing within itself all living beings of the same natural order” (30d) and “established a single spherical universe in circular motion” according to the order of the Soul. Compared with Qi, the Soul also is accountable for the unifying order to move the universe in circular motion—the astronomical sign of life. However, beyond this similarity, once more an ontological question is concealed. Is the rest truly at rest while it causes motion? From the perspective of evolutionary Qi, it moves; therefore it moves others. Can Plato’s Soul bridge the distinction between unchanging Reason and the changing world?

The Structure of the Soul Prior to the creation of the material universe, the Demiurge first created the Soul and made it “the dominating and controlling partner” of the body (34c). Using the metaphor of a blacksmith making a model, the making of the Soul is described as a mechanical process to craft various parts into a structural universe. First a long strip was cut into two narrow strips

214

comparative ontology

(36b). One strip was folded into a large ring and became the outer ring to allocate fixed stars. Another strip was bent into a smaller ring and formed the inner ring to accommodate moving planets (38c). Plato calls the first ring Sameness and the second ring Difference (35a). Out of these two primary realities, the craftsman smelted the two and then produced a third alloy reality called Existence (35a). Later the craftsman subdivided the second strip Difference into seven unequal parts to form different orbits for the sun and the moon and the five known planets (38c–39e). Mathematics and Astronomy Plato warns early in the discourse that any cosmological study is merely a “likely story” (29c). The account of the making of the Soul is also an approximate account conditioned by the astronomical knowledge known to him. Plato may have had an armillary sphere in mind. What the divine blacksmith builds is a three-ring sphere with visible patterns to recapitulate invisible orbits. But the real content of the sphere is astronomy and is presented within the discourse of creation. Thus the creation of the Soul and the making of the sphere have been told as a single story. The Soul is made of two primary stuffs: Sameness and Difference. They correspond to two primordial causes: the always-same-Reason and the always-differentNecessity. The third part of the Soul is the alloy called Existence, which is smelted out of Sameness and Difference. But the divine craftsman did not stop there. He went on to make subdivisions like a Pythagorean mathematician; hence each portion of the Soul contained “a mixture of Sameness, Difference, and Being” (35b). Plato explicitly tells readers Sameness is made for the placements of countless fixed stars and Difference for moving planets and, most obvious of all, the sun and the moon. But Plato does not define the concept of Existence. Without the help of astronomical knowledge from later periods, Existence is intangible just by looking at the text (35a–39e). We are told that Existence intermediates Sameness and Difference. But what does it mean in astronomy? Ancient and modern commentators have spread much ink on the issue,38 but Existence remains one of many uninstructive notions in the book. The chief difficulty in understanding Existence is the metaphorical arrangement. The text mixes metaphors to generate a mystical genre, yet the exchange of metaphors becomes too complex to follow. Readers are led by the metaphor of building an armillary sphere, which seems to be the direction of Plato’s argument on the structure of the cosmos. But the key to understanding Existence lies somewhere else. The discourse of time-eternity carries the same metaphor. The motif that the Soul is the



the one215

moving Being of eternal Reason is echoed in the definition of time—“the moving image of eternity” (37d). The creation of time (37c–38c) is one of Plato’s creative and influential ideas. There was no time prior to the creation, only eternity. Time is created together with the world. By implication, the world did not exist before time but always exists in time. Since the world is created, it is also finite. Contrary to Ge Hong’s infinite universe, Plato’s finite universe is viewed against its relation with the creator’s mind—Reason. Even the Soul cannot be eternal because it is created. Existence is similar to time. Time is neither Sameness nor Difference. It is a composite of both. As the moving image of the eternity, time has an imperceptible existence. Existence also has an imperceptible pattern only demonstrable on the armillary sphere as the second ring. Its astronomical reality is shown through the planetary movements and the rising and falling of the sun and the moon. The definition of time refers to the astronomical clock made of celestial bodies in motion. Existence represents the astronomical clock intermediating Sameness and Difference, and changes unstoppably as long as the celestial bodies move. The planets are located in the inner ring of Difference close to the earth—the center of the geocentric worldview. Their planetary movements form a clock located in the invisible second ring of Existence. The motions are unsynchronized, but they collectively manifest time that is synchronized with the pattern of Existence rotating around eternity. Time, which is manifested through the planetary rotations on the ring of Difference, contains the change of “was,” “is,” and “will be.” However, its essence is not defined by Difference but by Sameness. This is why Plato depicts time as a moving circle around the eternal center. Its essence is the “is”—the present—in relation to eternity. “We should only say [time] is, reversing was and will be for the process of change in time: for both are motions” (38a). What is this “is” for Existence? Time is the model of Existence, similar to the measurability of time according to the circular motions of the planets, Existence contains a measurable principle. Circular time and the second ring of Existence exemplify the same eternity and share the same principle as the Soul—“equidistance from the center.” The distinction between Sameness and Existence lies in the mediating nature of Existence, which influences the celestial bodies in the ring of Difference. In the principle c=2πr, the equidistant radius is a variable. Each orbit of the five planetary movements differs from the others because each has a different radius. But each one has a common sameness because different orbits connect to the same axis presumably defined by Sameness. Existence, therefore, is a collective notion for invisible orbits.

216

comparative ontology

There is an empirical problem in Plato’s three-ring astronomy. Where are the two points that define the celestial axis? The circles cannot simply rotate around the earth. In solid geometry, these circles represent orbits, and orbits are planes. For planes to rotate requires an axis, not a point. Therefore, to build an armillary sphere, the chief difficulty actually is to define the axis running through the center (the earth). Chinese astronomy defines the axis with the converging point of the Constellations. The other point is the earth. Plato, however, has never stated what constellations actually define the axis. Commentators like Taylor and Cornford have overlooked this empirical point on which the theory that the “armillary sphere is the Soul’s model” depends. Without the axis, the divine blacksmith simply cannot build an armillary sphere; even if three rings have been crafted, there is nowhere for them to join. The real challenge for the divine blacksmith is where he is going to look for these points in the sky. Apart from the observation point on earth, only one point permanently located on the outer ring is required to define the axis. But there are countless fixed stars on the outer ring of Sameness. Which one is the defining point? Plato demonstrates no knowledge of navigation by the stars, nor does he mention any gods belonging to Greek mythology. Although he mentions the Good here and there, unlike Ge Hong’s astronomical location of Xuan, Plato has never identified a celestial location for the Good. Possibly he was not even aware of the problem. He was too occupied with the mathematical Form of “equidistance from the center” to realize the empirical challenge ahead. Cosmology and Ethics Apart from its mathematical nature, the Soul’s structure shares a similarity with human souls. The human soul consists of three elements (41d), and the World Soul also has three parts. The parts are arranged in a psychological hierarchy and explained in two contexts of forming a whole: physiology and astronomy. Physiology Head Heart Belly

rational part emotional part appetitive part

Astronomy Outer ring Middle ring Inner ring

Sameness Existence Difference

Sameness corresponds to the rational part of the human soul that is located in the head. Difference is comparable with the appetitive part located in the belly. Existence associates with the emotional part in the



the one217

heart. Desire and emotion in human souls subordinate to rationality. ­Likewise the World Soul demonstrates the rule of Reason over celestial bodies. The correspondence of the cosmic Soul and human souls recalls Plato’s doctrine of immortal souls. In the Phaedrus, he argues that the human soul is the identity of human existence.39 The harmonious, immortal, and self-generating aspects of the soul form the ethical unity of virtues. All these attributes also belong to the Would Soul in the Timaeus, except the World Soul and human souls are created. The creation of the Soul sets the stage for the creation of the human soul. By writing about the creation of the Soul, Plato virtually repeats the same ethics but elevates it to theogony. What harmonizes the cosmos is exactly the same substance of human rationality. In Plato’s words, human souls are made from “the same mixing bowl in which he had mixed and blended the soul of the universe” (41d). In this same bowl of substance, Plato finds an intrinsic connection that makes the world intelligible to human minds. Apart from the continuity, Plato clearly identifies a crucial discontinuity. The Demiurge infuses Reason into the mixture of three parts of the Soul to realize the purpose of Good. Interestingly, the Soul does not have an original “sin.” It exemplifies the perfect Good without any internal “rebellions” from Difference and Existence. But human souls can commit evil deeds against their rational will. To maintain psychological harmony is always a challenge for humans, as if a charioteer rides a wagon pulled by two horses running in different directions (Phaedrus 246a). In the Timaeus, Plato attributes this constant struggle, or original sin, to careless gods. Gods were created first. They were given the task of framing the human body to contain the human soul. Unlike the soul, which was the handiwork of the Demiurge himself (41c), building the frame of the body was assigned to inferior gods. Those careless gods, according to Plato, are responsible for the genetic defects of the human body. Having learned a lesson, or perhaps because it was too big a project for the gods, the Demiurge took the responsibility to shape the body of the universe himself. Hence, heavenly movements follow the exact order of the Soul. Here the theology seems to have explained the harmony of the natural world, but it has failed to explain the existence of Necessity in the created world. Ge Hong would agree with Plato on the continuity argument. Insofar as Daoist soteriology is concerned, the human body is created as perfect as the cosmos, both of which are capable of becoming vessels to harbor creative life of Qi. The cosmic life (or the World Soul) and human life (or the human soul) are intrinsically alike because they derive from the same origin. The connection between the cosmos and ethics is funda-

218

comparative ontology

mental because it is the fusion between the One and the many. In every single human, there inheres an element of cosmic origin. For Ge Hong it is called Qi. For Plato, in every human being there is an element of the divine infused by creative Reason. It rests upon the continuity between Reason and rational minds, which Plato calls it Sameness. But Plato’s correspondence between the World Soul and the human soul falls short in answering the question why humans alone can possess the rational aspects of life. For Ge Hong, humans are gifted to understand Qi, but Qi is universally present in the world, in herbs, animals, and minerals. In every creature there is an intrinsic nature of Qi. Do humans alone have souls that resemble the cosmic Soul? Does humanity alone have a monopoly on cosmic life—the gene traceable to the creator? For Plato, the human soul alone has the intrinsic nature of Reason. Crafted beds, beautiful roses, and geometrically shaped objects have no intrinsic nature. Because Forms are ontologically independent, independence rejects there being a Form in the likeness of the soul, which is both immanent and composite. Why cannot the soul have the same transcendence as Forms? It is simply because the body must be ensouled to be alive; likewise the body cannot exist without the mind. If the Soul designates the unity of the world’s body, it implies that the Soul must be immanent in the body. If the Soul had the ontological independence of Forms, then the absolute transcendence would make the body of the universe soulless, or the Soul disembodied. Therefore, it is right to call the vitality of the universe the Soul and not a Form. Plato has already arrived at this point, when he argues that the Soul, as the self-mover, is the ultimate cause of motion and moves celestial bodies. But he cannot stay away from the Pythagorean kind of mathematical Forms, so he assigns the mathematical equation c = 2πr to the Soul to be the Form of the Soul. From here onwards, a problem begins to unfold. Does this mean that this mathematic Form becomes immanent in the world through the Soul? If it does, Plato suggests that Forms can be immanent. In fact they have to be immanent—we will see why shortly. If so, he would have turned away from the theory of transcendental Forms. Daoism would regard the move actually as a remarkable effort to close the gap between the one and the many, which have previously been kept apart by the division of being and becoming. The OM Argument To understand the OM argument in the Soul, we need to demonstrate some distinctions between Forms and the Soul. Cornford has shown that the three parts of the Soul correspond to three attributes of Forms. Same-



the one219

ness: a Form is the same as itself or being itself. Difference: it is different from any other Form. Existence: it exists as a being.40 Cornford’s comparison is actually misleading. The Would Soul cannot be one of the Forms, no matter how similar the rational part of the Soul is in comparison with Forms. The Soul is a created composite that changes through the body of the universe. A Form is an uncreated numerical One that does not change under any circumstances. The Soul can be traced back to the theology of the historical Pythagoras, to which Plato adds algebra and geometry developed by the contemporary Pythagorean School. The former is the schema; the later is its contents. Cornford’s comparison only draws the parallel between Forms and the rational part of the Soul. Clearly the Soul is not absolutely rational. Similar to two irrational parts of human souls desire and emotion, the cosmic Soul contains Difference and the indeterminate Existence that are not reducible to Reason, but traceable to Necessity. In particular, the earth, which occupies the center of the geocentric universe, represents the most turbulent realm of change in the whole cosmos. The misleading comparison comes from Cornford’s own categorization. He misleads himself because two sets of concepts are secretly exchanged. The three elements of Forms are only attributes, but not components. Socrates is himself; he is different from others; he exists. These are three attributes of Socrates but not three components of him. Therefore, the Soul cannot be compared with Forms simply by replacing components with attributes. This is the fallacy of distribution. The meaningful question is why Plato does not simply make the Soul a Form. According to the Neoplatonist Proclus (411–485 CE), the Soul is an “intermediate entity” because Existence has three parts: “(a) intelligible and ungenerated things; (b) perceptible and generated things; (c) intermediate things that are intelligible and generated.” 41 The intelligible part is not indivisible and noncomposite; hence it is ungenerated. The perceptible part is composite and divisible, hence generated. The intermediating part is both intelligible and generated, both indivisible and divisible, both simple and composite. The intermediation runs the course of Sameness, Existence, and Difference. What Proclus has interpreted basically gives a new meaning to the ambiguous notion called the “divided and bound” three portions (36e). Therefore, the chief function of the Soul is mediation. And the mediation closes the gap between the uncreated and the created, the eternal singularity of the creator and the transitory plurality in the world. Proclus’ Neoplatonist interpretation also alters Plato’s position. The idea of mediation represents a different OM argument from the One Over

220

comparative ontology

Many of Forms. Forms are ideal causes, whereas sensibles are created as physical copies of Forms. They belong to two separate orders of being and becoming. But nothing mediates the never-changing causes and ever-changing caused. Through the mediation of the Soul, however, Proclus’ interpretation intends to close the Parmenidean gap in Platonism. This remarkable shift does not exist in the Republic. Even the prologue of Timaeus states that the paradigm of Being/Becoming is the condition that the Demiurge has to work with. Why does Proclus modify the model/copy paradigm on behalf of Plato? If planetary motions display a celestial clock, then time must be immanent in the motions, so that time’s “was, is, and will be” become perceptible through astronomical observation. This is exactly the same dilemma as having immanent Forms. Ethical Forms ( Justice, Beauty, Good) must be personified in a person’s life in order for the virtues to be perceptible through bodily behaviors. What stops Plato from accepting the immanence is the combined influence of Parmenidean ontology and Pythagorean mathematics. The “being without not-being” ontology prohibits Forms to be entangled in the Becoming. Two equal sticks can be destroyed, but the algebraic equality remains transcendental of the objects. This is idealism. But the dilemma is equally powerful. To be the ultimate cause of motion, the Soul cannot enjoy the transcendent state as Forms but must be entangled in becoming. To solve the problem that is entangled in, yet unaffected by, Becoming, the solution does not come from mathematics, but from ethics. The Soul must hold all three elements together in harmony to exemplify the purpose of creation—the Good. The only way to hold them together is to coordinate the three parts, similar to the philosophical charioteer in the Phaedrus who coordinates two winged horses with the skill to keep them from breaking their wings because of conflict between them. The core argument of Proclus is basically intermediation. It is the same argument in the intermediation of Qi between the One and the many. The coordination among the three parts of the Soul speaks for a relational ontology other than a causal ontology. Proclus’ interpretation also shifts the ontological ground on behalf of Plato. Plato wants to prioritize mathematical Forms over the Soul in the text, but Proclus, with Aristotelian criticism in mind, hopes to insert the neglected issue of mediation back into Plato’s ontology. From a Daoist point of view, this is the right move to solve the OM problem. The World Soul is an attempt to reconcile the Parmenidean gap of Being and Becoming. Created to be the sole copy of the eternal model, the Soul becomes the only model identity according to which the body of the



the one221

universe is further constructed. The Soul, therefore, mediates Forms and sensibles. This capacity of intermediation is already implied in the Republic’s discussion of the ethical soul. Human souls are inborn with the natural capacity to engage rational thought; the divine logos functions as the induction between human beings and transcendental Forms. To accept that the human soul is composed of three parts inevitably leads to the consequence that the soul is both transcendent and immanent. On the one hand, the rational part incarnates the uncreated logos so that human souls are transcendental in this regard. On the other hand, both emotional and desiring parts are closely associated with the body. They keep human souls embodied. It is this capacity of embodiment that enables the Soul to mediate Forms and sensibles. The creation of the Soul carries the chief motif of incarnation. “For god’s purpose was to use as his model the highest and most completely perfect of intelligible things, and so he created a single visible living being, containing within itself all living beings of the same natural order” (31a). By the virtue of incarnation, the Soul then becomes the self-mover that moves the sun and the moon and the five planets. It should be recognized that, as in the paradox of Qi, the Soul also contains a paradoxical identity: both uncreated and created. In the Phaedrus and Laws X the Soul has been clearly identified as the self-mover, which is the uncreated cause of all things. In other words, it is the creator. But in the Timaeus the Soul is the created. How does Plato explain the paradox of created and uncreated? It is not directly explained, but indirectly implied in a relation scheme of “the divine model—the Soul—physical motions.” The Soul incarnates the divine model as a living being; it then becomes the cause of all motions. Plato certainly has this mediating status in his mind when he says, “The maker implanted reason in soul and soul in body.” Such a relational paradox is similar to the paradox of Qi. From Ge Hong’s perspective, Qi as the fetus of Xuan is created, but Qi is the creator for the myriad things because the creativity of Xuan unfolds in Qi. Likewise individual life is of course created, but the essence of life, which derives from Dao, is uncreated. Therefore, individual life is like Qi containing within itself the paradox of uncreated and created. For Daoism this paradox is not just a given status of the world inhered through the act of creating the World Soul. It is a process. Life evolves through the discourse of embodying uncreated inherence from the ancestor but unfolds the created and creative features of diversity through genealogical changes. On the contrary Plato consistently uses the analogy of “model and copy” to explain the creation of the Soul. This is the rule of the game that the Demiurge must obey. He has made one copy and rested.

222

comparative ontology

The Mathematics of the Soul Prior to Plato, the pre-Socratic Pythagoras in Italy argued for pluralist immaterialism. Some Pythagorean followers later settled in Greece and developed the doctrine “all things are irreducibly numbers.” According to Aristotle’s recollection, Pythagoreans argued, “Numbers appeared to be the first things in nature as a whole” (Metaphysics 985b24) and held the cosmology of the infinite universe corresponded to unlimited numbers (Physics 203a). The Pythagorean tendency evidently has surfaced in the Timaeus. 42 Plato first rejects the notion of the infinite universe by the argument that the Soul was created. Then he applies mathematics to astronomy. Plato’s tactic is to envelop the Pythagorean influence within the argument for the Soul. The Soul has mathematical structure and content. And the content is demonstrable with a principle of division. Plato writes: “First he took one portion [1] from the whole and next a portion double this [2]; the third half as much again as the second and three times the first [3]; the fourth double the second [4]; the fifth three times the third [9]; the sixth eight times the first [8]; and the seventh twenty-seven times the first [27]” (35b–c). Various ancient commentators have closely examined the passage and concluded that the divine project of division is actually about numbers. Arranged into two distinct groups, they yield the pattern of being odd and even numbers, the Pythagorean pattern that Aristotle already had pointed out (Metaphysics 986a). According to Cornford’s study, these numbers can be arranged as in Figure 8.7 (as shown on p. 226): “1, 2, 4, 8” represent the numerical evens and “1, 3, 9, 27” the odds.43 Cornford’s interpretation reveals an idea of Plato that has influenced astronomy until modern times. It is the hypothesis that the universe is ruled by orderly truths, and the truths are mathematically demonstrable. Cornford even goes the extra distance to show that the numbers can be played out as musical concords.44 But his commentary has not come to terms with a hidden OM argument in the passage. The OM argument is basically a principle of division. In order to explain the change from one to many associated with numbers, we can explain the above two arms in Figure 8.7 with exponential equations. The left arm is the side of the odds: 2 n =1,2,4,8 (n= 0–3). The right arm is the side of evens: 3n =1,3,9,27 (n=0–3). As a way to advance the OM analysis, we can ask three questions about the numbers: (a) Why does n not exceed 3, instead of having infinite extension? (b) Why is “1” the primary number for both evens and odds? (c) Why is the number “0” excluded from the universal structure?



the one223

Zero to Three Ancient commentators answered the first question. Plato aims to explain the mathematical structure of the Soul in terms of solid geometry. “The reason for stopping at the cube is that the cube symbolizes body in three dimensions.” 45 The Soul is a three-dimensional sphere “equidistant in all directions from the center” (34a). The body of the universe is built three dimensional because the Soul’s determinate order “is diffused through the whole and enclosed body” (34b). In descending order, n = 2 refers to plane geometry; n=1 becomes arithmetically the primary even “2” and the odd “3.” In algebra, of course, “3” is not the primary odd, but “1.” Corresponding to the building of the astronomic model by the divine blacksmith, Plato gives the spatial characterises of arithmetic numbers. The condition n =1–3 summarizes the move from arithmetic numbers to planes and from planes to solids. It seems Plato has brilliantly managed to adopt all three Pythagorean ideas in the principle of division. (A) The world is made of numbers. (B) Numbers can be divided into two different groups: even and odd. (C) Geometry is explainable with numbers. However, if we have a closer look at the numbers involved in division, there are some inconsistencies. When n equals 0, 2n and 3n produce the common root number “1.” The Soul is a unity of Sameness symbolized by the numerical one. When n equals 1, they yield the even 2 and the odd 3. The numbers can be divided into two contrary groups. When n equals 2, there come 4 and 9. They symbolize plane geometry. The numbers 4 and 9 could be the area of a square with bases of 2 and 3 respectively. But the square is only one of many planes. Why are circles and triangles not included? When n equals 3, 8 and 27 appear. They symbolize solid geometry. But 8 and 27 are only the volumes of the cubes with bases of 2 and 3. Why are pyramid, sphere, and other solids not included? Does Plato suggest that squares and cubes are primaries of all planes and solids respectively? But we have been told: the Soul fundamentally is a sphere. Unless Plato can show an inscribed circle in a square and an inscribed sphere in a cube, there is no direct correspondence between the numbers and the Soul. The numbers become symbolic to express the Pythagorean tendency. The Primary “1” The second question is an explicit OM question. Why is “1” the primary number for both even and odd numbers? For Plato, the numerical “1” has a higher order than any other number. The numerical one is indivisible, irreducible, and the root number. These characters only Forms can pos-

224

comparative ontology

sess. They correspond to three attributes of Forms: they are noncomposite, unique beings, and causal universals. As Plato defines it, the odd “3” derives from the root number “1” as the result of “three times the first,” the even “2” as “double” the first. In fact, all numbers in the passage derive from the root number “1.” Figure 8.7 shows that both arms converge into the same origin. The numerical “1” carries metaphorical meaning as the root cause of the Soul and symbolizes the singularity of Reason personified by the divine maker. Of course, exponential equations were not available in Plato’s time. But the structure of “1” over many even and odd numbers shares the same ontological premise as one over many in the doctrine of Forms. In the diagram, the divine project of transforming “1” to the many evens and odds also symbolizes the creative order of “from one to many.” To arrive at the real sense of the OM argument, we face the problem of mixing symbols. First, what is the “1”? The text describes the numerical one as a single strip of soul-stuff. But the stuff is not material, even though Plato treats it as the divisible stuff. The Demiurge “first makes a section of the whole” and then begins the mathematical division (35b). Second, does the division explain the multiplicity? The division of the whole strip of soul-stuff fits the narrative of building an instrument, which involves the cutting down of the whole into parts, then assembling the parts into a spherical whole (36b). The construction of the Soul also symbolizes the change from the one divisible stuff to many divided numbers. Ancient and modern commentators generally have understood that Plato’s downsized division really means the upside multiplicity, insofar as the diagram has shown. This is the right direction to explain the change from a simple order to complex realities. But the division from one to many will make “1” divisible.

Fig. 8.7.  Mathematical order of the World Soul



the one225

Third, what does the single stuff really mean to Plato? To enlarge the picture by placing the division within the creation of the Soul, we face another problem. From the very beginning Plato states that the Form— “equidistance in all directions from the center”—is the chief and single identity of the Soul. To construct the Soul in the cosmogonical background means to incarnate the immaterial Form with cosmological structures. The mathematical division symbolizes the divine act to make the Form embodied. Fourth, how is it possible to divide this Form? If the Form is indivisible, as the doctrine of Forms insists that anything divisible cannot be the most fundamental, then the Demiurge must be bound by the rule. Consequently he cannot divide the strip of soul-stuff, even if his Pythagorean conscience tells him otherwise. The construction of the Soul becomes impossible. If the Form can be divided, then it implies that each Form must be divisible. Plato has borrowed Pythagorean numbers to explain the change from one to many but arrives at an inconsistency that can overturn his crowning theory. All in all, the construction of the Soul exhibits a real challenge for the doctrine of Forms. The most difficult part of the one and the many is not about the divisibility of the Form, but about the Form itself. Is the equation c = 2πr—not complex at all—capable of turning the entire universe? Is it the ultimate cause of motion? The prominent reason for Plato being committed to the Form is ideal perfection. In his words, the figure “with extremes equidistant in all directions from the center has the greatest degree of completeness and uniformity, as he [the Demiurge] judged uniformity to be incalculably superior to its opposite” (33c). Certainly Pythagorean mathematics has played a key role in the construction of the Soul. But the perfectionism belongs to Plato’s idealism. He has idealized mathematics by turning r into the one over many principle with a familiar ontological twist. Once he has done so in this context, he has boxed himself inside the idealism—the perfection of the Form of the Circle, which simplifies cosmology into the order of the circumference. But Ge Hong would ask two questions: “Why should the universe be a sphere, not an egg?” “Why should all living souls in this world be in conformity with this single idea, and what about each individual is exemplified by the immortals?” These questions cannot be answered by scrutinizing the single passage about division. We can ask another question instead. Does mathematics actually explain the change from one to many? Commentators ancient and modern have agreed that Plato’s passage is about division. But Cornford’s diagram shows multiplication. The single soul-stuff is not meant to be “1,” but “a whole.” If it were “1,” then by divi-

226

comparative ontology

sion the Demiurge could only get ½, ¼, ¹⁄8, ¹⁄3, ¹⁄9, and ¹⁄27. The division from 1 to the fractions involves quantitative variation, but no qualitative transformation. Here we again run into the contrast between two modes of change: Greek physical variation and Daoist alchemical transfor­mation. Plato explains the change from one to many as physical variation. But “from the whole to the parts” explains nothing about the from one to many transformation. If Plato plans to explain cosmological unity, there is an ontological dilemma in showing the discontinuity between the One and the many and how discontinuity other than quantitative variation comes about. The ancient interpretation maintained above foresees the problem by interpreting the change in the sequence of numbers, planes, and solids. However, mathematically solids consist of planes, planes are made of lines, and lines are numbers. They can all be explained by 1/2n and 1/3n as ­numbers. There is no change in kind involved. Just as the pre-Socratic materialists explained change in terms of physical variation, Plato’s mathematical division too has failed to explain the change in kind. The Problem of Zero Why is “0” excluded from the universal structure? This is a Daoist question. Plato excludes zero because zero means nothing. As for Parmenides, nothingness is unthinkable and unknowable for Plato (Republic 447a). No positive truth can be abstracted from nothing. But mathematically zero is much more complex than one. It is neither the prime even “2” nor the prime odd “1.” It is a neutral number that can neither be divided nor multiplied into other numbers. Zero added to a number or subtracted from a number does not change the original value. If Xuan is zero, neither addition nor subtraction will change its original state. Ge Hong says: “Adding will not cause Xuan to overflow, nor will taking exhaust it, just as the effort of adding and taking water from the Yellow River and the Wei River” (IC 1). To multiply any number by 0 will swallow the value of that number. Zero cannot be multiplied by any external cause. Likewise, the Nature of Dao cannot be multiplied by external things, unless it chooses to realise from nothing into being. The value 2/0 is meaningless, because the base number zero is indivisible. Any attempt to divide by zero will be in vain. Laozi says, “The greatest virtue of Dao is comparable with soft water” (Laozi 8). To cut water with a sword will achieve nothing. Likewise to be as soft as water means the greatest uniformity. For Ge Hong, zero can mean Xuan. Xuan is not a numerical singularity but a formless unity. Contrary to Xuan, he persistently uses numerical 1 for Qi. If we use numbers, then “0–1–2–3” represents the change “Dao—Qi—



the one227

Yin and Yang—Qi”. The first Qi is “1.” It designates the cosmogonical Qi in the precosmic egg. It bears a something-nothing relation with the “0” of Dao. The second Qi is “3.” It refers to the cosmological Qi. No matter how Qi changes from one to three, the not-being and being relation is never lost. Life is both indeterminate and determinate. The most fundamental reality is indeterminate. This is why Zhuangzi argues that the totality of the world is zero. Nothing exists outside of the nothingness of Dao, yet everything is penetrated through and through by this zero. Contrary to the Demiurge, who consciously “cuts” a strip into smaller portions, the diversification of Dao is spontaneous and requires no intervention. In the cosmological egg, zero can mean the balance of Yin and Yang. The total amount of positive and the total amount of negative are balanced. Day and night are equal in length within a solar year. Astronomy has two celestial poles. The world neither ever evolves nor constantly devolves because creation and contraction form a circle. Four cardinal directions on a compass derive from and are balanced at a resting center with no directions. During the time of Ge Hong, even the five planets were explained alchemically as the Five Phases (water, metal, wood, fire, earth) with two opposite orders of generation and degeneration. Within the balance of the cosmos, there exist limitless changes moving in the dialectic opposite directions. Neither day nor night can be understood without the other. The common ground between the two is the true nature of the two. The one of the two is change. Cosmological life, no matter whether it is called Qi or the Soul, essentially possesses dialectic opposites. Pythagoreans had already arrived at the same point when they viewed the world as the mixed result of two contraries—evens and odds. If we return to the two arms of the diagram in Figure 8.7 with the exponential equations 1/2n and 1/3n, then we come to a realization. When n equals zero, we get 1/2 0 =1/3 0 =1. “1” is not the root cause of many numbers, but the same result of two distinctive orders. Hence “1” really means the soulstuff (whatever that means). Two contrary principles, which the Demiurge actually works with, are countable for creativity causes. They are evens and odds in Pythagorean terms. For Daoism, they symbolize Yin and Yang. The remarkable feature is this. The Demiurge first separated two orders. Then in the same way he made the world as the mixed result of Reason and Necessity, he joined the opposites to compose the Soul as the mixture of both. Ge Hong would say cosmic life was born out of the balanced Yin and Yang. The interplay of the opposites gives birth to plurality. The Demiurge played the same game “from the two to the many.” To make the point concisely, the Soul cannot be a numerical 1. Plato’s initial idea of the composite Soul is correct. The unity of cosmic life is

228

comparative ontology

internally as plural as human life. But the mathematical Form has misled the ethical intuition without realizing the harmonious rotation of the cosmos is a balanced zero. Within the harmonious unity, the Form governing the rotation happens to be one of many orders within the totality of change balanced by the dialectic opposites. Each single order in the cosmos bears the relation of zero and one to form the unity of harmony. This relationship derives from the creative core of the universe, which is the bond of Xuan-Qi (zero and one). Ge Hong’s hagiographic tradition depicts the OM relation vividly. Many immortals have preserved the bond. They dwell freely in the cosmos and collectively animate the creative core of the universe with their plural personalities. The zero and one bond of immortal life shares the same genesis as cosmic life. What does this bond imply for the Soul? In order for the Soul to be a balanced one, there must be a hidden reality of zero somewhere.

Two OM Problems for the Soul In the past section we have gone the extra distance to engage the commentary tradition and have arrived at the conclusion that there must be an element of zero that symbolizes the indeterminate nature hidden in the Soul. Plato originally intended the Soul to be a harmonious unity for the body of the world. But Pythagorean mathematics alters the ethical model by assigning the equation c =2πr to the Soul. This shift from the ethical to the mathematical creates two OM problems. The first one is the relationship between a single Soul and multiple Forms. If the Soul is the Form of circumference, why is the equation c = 2πr singled out as universal over the rest of Forms? How can all principles of the world be reduced to this determinate structure? The second one is the relationship between the Soul and the myriad things in the world. How can a single Soul form the harmony shared by the many? The Continuity Problem of the One As I have said before, the biggest assumption that preconditions the doctrine of creation is the doctrine of Forms. Prior to the creation the uncreated, Forms were already there. So the Demiurge works within the limits of Forms defined by preexistence. How does the created Soul manage the uncreated Forms in a unity of harmony if the Forms are self-subsistent? This question refers back to the previous discussion of the Good and Forms. Recall that as long as Forms are self-subsistent beings, there will be no harmony among them. The underlying issue is the dilemma of participation. Here is the diagram.



the one229



A a B

The overlapping (a) is the common property that both A and B share. It is neither a whole A nor a whole B. And this section of “not a whole A” and “not a whole B” is essentially required for relational harmony. We call this (a) blood in modern medicine or Qi in ancient alchemy. But the ontology of Forms prohibits the participation. Each Form must be a numerical one and contains only “being without not-being.” Not-being is mainly understood as the negation of being.

Applying these points to the above graphic yields two results. First, the overlapping (a) is “not a complete A” and “not a complete B.” According to the negation, it becomes “not-A” and “not-B.” Second, A must be an indivisible one “A without not-A.” In order to meet the requirement that A is a numerical 1, A cannot contain not-A. Thus the relational (a) is excluded from A. The same logic applies to B. The denial of the shared (a) leads to the denial of participation between A and B. But to be a relational being, somehow A must contain this property (a). If it is denied, then relationship—both like and unlike—is not possible. In the biological model, if blood is denied, then there will be neither participating harmony between the heart and the kidneys, nor is human life as a whole possible. Now we come to a problem that relates to Plato’s strange idea of numerical being. By the principle of noncomposition, “not-A” is rejected. So A is one in the sense of numerical oneness. This is Plato’s idealism that any universal must be a numerical being. But two numerical beings cannot participate in each other. Plato often speaks of the two mathematical Forms most frequent in the doctrine of creation: the circle (the structure of Soul) and the triangle (the structure of the elements). Is it possible to form a participatory relationship between the two? Since circles and triangles cannot be reduced to each other, it is not possible to find a common resemblance between them. In theory, triangles should not participate in circles. If so, how can the Soul form a harmony, a Form contain all Forms? The root problem of numerical being is the ontology of “being with-

230

comparative ontology

out not-being.” Numerical being is an abstract concept in many Platonic terms. Since a being with numerical oneness is difficult to conceptualize, we can employ numbers. Two numerical beings can either be adjacent to each other or stand apart from each other. For example, 1 and 2 are integrals; they can only relate to each other as two adjacent numbers. However, 1 and 3 can stand apart from, not next to, each other. One may question why the numbers 13 and 31 are excluded. The same logic also applies to the physical arrangements “three apples next to one banana.” When three apples are placed next to one banana, the best they can manage is attachment or contiguity. For the sake of argument, they are fruit and fresh, presumably the same age and grown by the same farmer. But these are external similarities with a Platonic one over many structure. What we are looking for is the shared life of participating in each other. Compared with the shared blood between the heart and the kidneys, neither the apples have life in the banana, nor must the banana have anything to do with the apples. There is no inner continuity between them. There is only a situation of togetherness. Now when the same nonparticipatory togetherness is applied to “13” and “31,” the numbers should not be formed at all. This is simply because neither is “13” thirteen nor “31” thirty-one. The “1” and the “3” are only put next to each other. But what 13 and 31 really represent mathematically are two sets of relations. In 13, “1” represents ten, and, in 31, “3” represents thirty. Ten and thirty are something new, and they represent a set of new relations. Therefore, in order for the attachment 13 and 31 to be meaningful, the relation between two numbers is essential. This is also the point of the argument against numerical beings.

A

B

A

B

The “1 and 2” and the “1 and 3” situation can be shown in the diagrams above. Let us see the crucial change that numerical beings make to our original diagram. Originally, A and B are not numerical beings. They are relational beings, and both share the common property (a). Since numerical beings are meant to be noncomposite beings that deny this shared “not-being,” they cannot relate to each other as overlapping coalitions. They can either be next to each other or apart from each other. This is the implication of “being without not-being.” All that the exclusion of notbeing does is to promote ontological individualism.



the one231

We should remember that the ideal world contains many numerical beings. If two beings cannot form a relational participation, nor can all Forms do otherwise. Plato envisions that the ideal world is perfectly ruled by Reason. But this investigation shows the opposite situation. The ideal world is a false unity of nonparticipatory togetherness. Reason is merely a common character that Forms share. It is the OVM structure, but not a relational web by which universals are interwoven. Has Plato escaped the critique of atomism? Originally Plato wanted to reject the nonrelational plurality that atomism argues, but in reality Plato has not escaped pluralism. To give Forms an OVM structure is not enough to form a unity of harmony. In the previous discussion, the one over many is shown actually to be not a harmony, but a “political” crisis. Independent Forms neither allow any relationship between them nor permit another Form—the Good—to bring them under the umbrella of one over many. No matter how superior the “emperor” Good is, participatory relationship is not possible. It is because the “feudal lords”—Forms—are too powerful and subsistent. If the Demiurge obeys the doctrine of Forms, then what he is about to copy is a model that contains fragments. To maintain the doctrine of Forms, both A and B would have to be pure beings-themselves. They are indivisible and numerical ones. They are self-subsistent and ontologically independent. What sort of entity can meet these criteria? Again we can use mathematics to conceptualize Forms. In mathematics, two independent entities with numerical oneness can only be seen as two spots, rather than composite areas. The divine model prior to the creation contained many noncomposite spots—Forms. The best relations that they can achieve are the two kinds shown in the above diagrams. One is attachment; A is adjacent to B. The other is detachment; A is separated from B. Hence participatory harmony is not possible. If the Demiurge must obey this false unity, the best he can achieve is the adjacency of Forms. It is just like a bag of frozen vegetables in which carrots have nothing to do with the other vegetables. From the Daoist biological perspective, the togetherness of adjacency is only a mechanical assembling but has no life in itself. Even if the Soul has the determinate principle “equidistant from all directions,” the geometric Form cannot be the organizational order above other Forms. This is because to single out this order means that all other mathematical orders must be ultimately conformed to the principle of the sphere. Thus the OVM model will restrict mathematics to one single principle. What the spherical Soul really does is to act as a cosmic container, “the single living being containing all living things within itself.” In this container, Forms are mixed together randomly as adjacent entities. Yet random adjacency

232

comparative ontology

neither has any mathematical order nor possesses an organic harmony—a life of its own. It is chaos. With Ge Hong’s Xuan and Laozi’s wu in mind, the alternative way to have a unity of harmony is that the Creator must be indeterminate and infinite. In fact, this is not a strange idea to Plato. Plato has already envisioned that at the intellectual summit there exists a visionary unity, which he occasionally calls the Vision of the Good. A vision is not a noncomposite being, but a composite reality. It is fundamentally not a determinate principle, but an indeterminate harmony. The Good can manage plurality by containing them within its indeterminateness. Consequently, the Good cannot be a master Form over the other Forms in the OVM sense, but a unity of “one under many.” The chief identity is its indeterminateness that sustains the identities of individuals, just like blood sustains different organisms. In Laozi’s metaphor, the Good is like a self-humbling ocean that takes a lowly position. By providing the freedom of letting plurality be, the indeterminate Good becomes the emptying vessel in which Forms gain interdependence. The Good then become comparable with the Dao. In Plato’s cosmogonical vocabulary, the only concept that is primarily indeterminate is Necessity. Thus the visionary Good shares the same ontology with the cosmogonical Necessity. It is the not-being of the Good, or the mother of the Soul. In the creation the character was rightly inherited by the child but wrongly labeled as Difference by the rational father Reason. Furthermore, the Forms must surrender their self-subsistence. By giving up their individualism, they achieve a radical openness toward each other. Paradoxically they find mutual participation is the only way to maintain their individuality. This is exactly what human life is about. Heart, lungs, kidneys, and other organisms participate in the life-giving Qi. Through participation they exist as “one among many.” They are indeterminate over each other but support each other. In other words, Forms must have an ethical humility in them. What has been achieved is a relational ­ontology. The life of the cosmos can be seen as the life of the ocean. It is the collective manifestation of the myriad lives, and the oceanic potency interconnects each species into a harmonious whole while individuals strive for their evolving existences. Likewise each single one of the universals must allow the indeterminate Good to contain it as one of many related beings. At the same time they open to and participate in each other through something that they all share, which is the common Good for all. The common property (a) in our original diagram is the common Good. It is the essence of the Soul. For Ge Hong, it is the cosmological Qi. This common property does not only bring A and B into participatory relation, but also interweaves the myriad things into a single cosmic life. The



the one233

Soul, therefore, is not governed by the Form of “equidistant in all directions from the center,” but actively incarnates the creative wisdom, which is as indeterminate as the vision of the Good or Necessity. To accept this model of one over many, however, Plato must abandon the doctrine of Forms. What Plato will gain is the liberation of the Demiurge. He will no longer be a craftsman stranded by the eternal Forms, and he will not be an assembler putting together matter according to Forms. Instead he will be the creator. He is capable of creating Forms out of nothing, with the same kind of creative capacity as the ontological cause of Forms—the Good. Prior to the creation, there was neither time and matter nor orderly Forms and characterless space. There was only the formless Necessity—the chief virtue of the Demiurge. From Necessity, there awoke the mind of the Demiurge—creative Reason. Necessity and Reason first formed a cosmogonical unity and coexisted through a shared relation. Out of this creative bond, the world came to be as the mixed result of Necessity and Reason. The “fetal” universe gradually took shape through the awakening of the mind and the formation of the body. Forms were not preexistent causes, but they were created together with the universe. The coming-to-be of order belonged to the evolving process. Plurality evolved out of the formless unity of Necessity and Reason. Universals did not exist prior to the birth of the physical universe, nor did they have determinative capacity prior to the “birth” of the universe. Rather they were activated together with time, space, and matter. The universe was born into these defining categories. The universals existed as plural parts of the body; their existences are bonded together with the distribution of matter. Thus these principles never had existence separate from material things. But their true essences were in the formless unity of Necessity/Reason and then became apparent in material existences by forming the myriad unities of form/matter. What the Soul does principally is to sustain the plurality of orders by unifying them into a cosmological whole, just as Qi circulates through different parts of the body. And the Soul is embodied, hence alive. Plato could reject this Daoist reconstruction of his doctrine of creation. He might return to the model/copy theory of creation, thus protecting the theory of Forms. What he would abandon is the cosmogonical answer to the OM problem, which the pre-Socratics envisioned and Daoism articulated. Such abandonment would subsequently sacrifice the harmonious unity, which the Soul desperately needs. From the above analysis, because of the ontological individualism, the unity of Forms is not possible. If the Demiurge copies from the eternal model of Forms, then the Soul will be genetically crippled. Since the model is disharmony, the created Soul

234

comparative ontology

cannot reshape radon adjacency into harmony unless the Soul continuously evolves after creation, thus changing independently from the divine model. If it does mutate into a harmonious unity, then the Soul becomes the “rebellious child” of the maker. The Soul has rejected this genesis but become the creative life of the universe. The Discontinuity Problem for the Many The doctrine of Forms raises the problem of unity for the Soul. It also generates the problem of plurality for the world. We can first visualize two distinct theories of creation (Figure 8.8). Ge Hong’s two eggs theory presents a model from one to many. The cosmogonical egg contains the formless One, and the cosmological egg contains the formed many. In this model, both ontological dilemmas of continuity and discontinuity are involved in the evolution from one to many. The continuity between the two eggs is sustained by the sameness of Qi in two different stages of the cosmos. The discontinuity is marked by the change between the two eggs—from the formless One to the many formed by the One. On the contrary, Plato’s model/copy theory presents a model of causation: “Many Forms—the single intelligence infused in the Soul—many parts of the body.” Within this “M-1-m” causation, the continuity between

Fig. 8.8.  Two distinctive schemes of the One and the many



the one235

the world of Forms and the world of actuality is defined by the sameness between Reason and the Soul. The discontinuity is stated as the unchangeable model and the changeable copy. The former is ruled by Reason, whereas the latter is ruled by the Soul—the cause of motion. Now let us examine the problem of plurality caused by the Forms. Plato says, “It is impossible for the best to produce anything but the highest” (30b). Thus the Demiurge made the copy of the Soul to incarnate Reason. If the universe is a perfect copy of the divine model, then Plato will face the problem of creating two worlds—one duplicating the other. The causation explains nothing about the phenomenon of change. The world of Forms contains no change. But the fact is that, like human souls, the World Soul is not entirely rational. The entire cosmos cannot be viewed as a monad ruled by rational Sameness. It also contains Existence and Difference. Similar to the appetitive part of the human soul located in the belly, the inner ring of difference contains the earth, in which becoming is the primarily reality. If the universe contains irrational elements, then not all phenomena are reducible to a single intelligence. Even if the Soul is assumed to rotate by the principle of “Radius,” it does not follow that everything within the rotating sphere is regular. For instance, four seasons form a circular change. But neither atmospheric motions nor oceanic changes are irregular. If we borrow Ge Hong’s theory of “two matching talismans,” we can put the uncreated world of Forms and the created world of actualities side by side. They are unmatched. Then the question is this: where does change come from? Plato’s model/copy is a theory of craftsmanship. To adopt the theory leaves change unexplained. But the doctrine of creation requires this discontinuity. What does this discontinuity mean? We have encountered two approaches in the diagrams above. The two eggs theory explains change by affirming that the One changes itself in order to create principles of change. This is the change from one to many. The model/copy theory presupposes the principles as preexistent. Preexistence seems to have avoided the discontinuity problem by emphasizing the continuity between the model and the copy. Yet insofar as the doctrine of creation stands, the discontinuity is unavoidable. The paradox of continuity and discontinuity is about change. We can reduce the size of cosmic change to a small scale. By taking only one Form from the world of Forms, we can see the OM problem. For one Form to create many instances is to change from one to many (Figure 8.9). How does the causality work if change has been ontologically denied? We have already examined this problem. For instance, to create different beds, Plato believes that only one ideal Bed is required. But normal

236

comparative ontology

Fig. 8.9.  From One to many through the creative act

beds, sofa beds, and water beds represent a horizontal discontinuity. They are different from each other as well as called beds. The discontinuity is change. If the Form is the cause for them, then it must accommodate the external discontinuity (change) represented by the many. In a schema of “design-act-instances,” the craftsman must modify the design and act upon three versions of the design in order to build the different beds. Modification is internal change, which happens within the one. Though Plato has externalized the change by placing the Demiurge outside the one to carry out the act of building the many, the modification must first occur within the divine mind so the maker can act accordingly to actualize the internal change in the context of external change in those beds. What does internal change mean? It means that the Form must contain the element of change rather being absolutely changeless. The argument is not just specific to Plato, but also of general application. On the latter, suppose a bed is an article of furniture designed to sleep on. It appears that there can be all sorts of variations without the basic specification being changed. However, the definition “to sleep on” is an OM unity. A multiplicity of instances that satisfy the functionality are implied in the definition. Furthermore, the causal design is not strictly “one” idea, but a unity of many possible applications of the idea. So the definition in itself



the one237

cannot be understood in the Platonic sense of “one without many,” but as a unity of “one with many.” In the context of creation, to create all beds in the world the divine mind must have the power to modify the ideal Bed rather obeying the unchanging Form wholeheartedly. Plato’s insistence on unchangeable being is wrong. This internal capacity to change speaks for the ontological paradox of continuity and discontinuity. If discontinuity is denied by “being without not-being,” it turns a Form into a homogeneous One. Thus, the many are the isomeric miniatures of the one. Normal beds, sofa beds, and water beds must not have distinctions, and they must be exactly like the unchanging design. They must be identical with each other. The plurality of the Form is denied. If one Form cannot create the many under its domain, then all Forms cannot create the myriad things as long as internal change has been ontologically denied. If, however, the paradox of continuity and discontinuity is kept as the core of ontological being, then the Form is paradoxically one and many at the same time. This ontology has profound implications in natural studies. For Plato the variety of chairs requires a single cause to explain their varied existences. But for Ge Hong, the change represented by those chairs shapes our understanding of the changing being. On the cosmic scale, it is not just the world of Being that causes the world of Becoming, but Becoming also defines Being. To fully understand the Daoist hypothesis, we need to move the comparative study into the context of alchemy—the study of the many.

Summary The One shapes different progenies of the One, and the One unfolds its essence into the plural existence of the many. This is the first argument concerning Ge Hong’s two eggs theory in the context of various astronomical writings. This cosmogonical answer to the OM problem basically rejects Plato’s doctrine of creation. In particular Forms cannot be ontological permanents. They can only have relative permanency in the evolving cosmos. This is the second major argument on the critical reading of the World Soul. The composite Soul is designed to be a solution to bridge the gap between Being and Becoming. Compared with Ge Hong’s method of “two matching talismans,” Plato’s natural studies are set within the limits of his idealism. The problem of the Soul is basically the problem of Forms.

chapter 9

The Many

This chapter is situated against the background of two distinct natural philosophies: Ge Hong’s alchemical universe and Plato’s geometrical world. The comparative study is textually based. It starts with my critique of the “alchemy as chemistry” thesis in Daoist studies with the aim to free alchemy from the need to explain itself by the means of modern science. Then I introduce my “alchemy-cosmogony” approach and place Ge Hong’s instrumental studies of minerals in dialogue with Plato’s geometrical structures of matter.

Ge Hong’s Alchemy: A Natural Study of the Many “Alchemy as chemistry” has been the dominating thesis in alchemical studies. It started in 1930 with an essay on “Chinese alchemy” by two MIT scholars.1 Since then there have been three important scholars in the field. In 1953 the Chinese chemist and canonical scholar Chen Guofu 陳國符 published his famous essay “A Brief Draft Discussion on the Study of Chinese Outer Alchemy and the Yellow-White Technique.” 2 Chen proposed the well-accepted thesis that “Outer Alchemy and the Yellow and White Technique” were essentially a form of proto-chemistry, and inner alchemy was an ancient form of “physiology-hygiene” 生理衛生. Based on this thesis, he further argued that the study of outer alchemy must be conducted together with the study of inner alchemy texts. Often an alchemic term is found in both inner and outer alchemical texts, and it is hard to pinpoint its concrete meaning.3 Facing this primary textual problem, Chen argued that without revealing alchemical terms embedded in encoded text, the study of outer alchemy is always condemned to wander around the outside of this secretive tradition and never goes beyond the protective “door” of those terms. His work Daozang yuanliu xukao 道藏 源流續考,4 was designed to deal with two primary difficulties: on the one hand, to examine each alchemical terms and to speculate on its actual chemical composition; on the other hand, to date major alchemical texts in the Daoist Canon and place them in the transmission lineages to which they belong.5 238



the many239

The British Sinologist Joseph Needham, who was also trained in chemistry, argued that Chinese alchemy was an early form of chemistry (including biochemistry) within the history of sciences. The thesis of alchemy as chemistry fit well within the scheme of Needham’s Science and Civilisation in China, which is based on categorizations of modern sciences. We will come back to the philosophical problem in greater detail later. Nathan Sivin, an American historian of science who was trained as a chemist as well, applied the alchemy as chemistry thesis in his study on Essential Formulas (Oral Transmission) of the Alchemical Scripts 丹金要訣 attributed to Sun Simo 孫思邈 (581–682) of the Tang.6 Sivin argued that any conclusions about alchemy would be premature until the chemistry of the text was fully reconstructed.7 His textual study reflected this scientific method. It reconstructed the composition of each ingredient, recovered the measurements from ancient prescriptions, analyzed applied methods for the art of elixir making, and conducted laboratory tests on recognizable chemical reactions. Sivin has identified alchemy as follows: Chinese alchemy might be defined after the fact as a discrete entity having to do with the construction of a chemical model of natural process and with the production by chemical means of substances capable of certain unique functions which involve time—making individuals immortal, maturing gold and silver from a base matrix at a greatly accelerated rate, and so on. But it would be mistake to let such a definition obscure alchemy’s continuity with medicine and chemical technology, and indirectly with moral philosophy and social thought.8

Sivin’s description acknowledges the broad scope of alchemy in direct association with medicine and chemistry and its indirect connections with moral philosophy and the Daoist worldview. Most significant is the recognition that alchemy was an attempt to construct “a chemical model of a natural process.” His approach did not restrain alchemy within the scope of chemistry, but used chemistry as a tool to unveil the lost tradition that he characterized as “the parallel search for a chemical model of cosmic process at one end, and elixirs of immortality at the other.” 9 Is the natural process fundamentally chemical, or is it alchemical as such? The question is not just for Sivin, but also for three generations of scholars committed to the alchemy as chemistry thesis. Has chemistry freed alchemy from its ancient esotericism, as they have claimed? Or have they actually clothed alchemy in chemistry and imposed philosophical limits on alchemical activities? The following analysis does not claim that the textual evidence and

240

comparative ontology

chemical formulas in this chapter are new discoveries. Various canonical scholars and historians of chemistry have already discussed these matters. The analysis does, however, contest the alchemy as chemistry thesis. Chemistry, which interprets alchemy, must also be interpreted by it. Alchemy should not be examined under the magnifying glass of inorganic chemistry, but seen as an instrumental telescope through which to view the formation of the universe. Alchemy is an instrumental study of the One becoming the many and the changing unity of the many. This alchemical model of one and many raises questions regarding the material pluralism of chemistry. The Tradition of Instrumental Alchemy “Many [alchemists] have collected fragmentary scripts but have not obtained true scriptures” (IC 71). Alchemical texts were regarded as the cumulative wisdom of people who had conducted countless experiments. Only those who were truly worthy could be a part of this sacred tradition. Ge Hong belonged to the tradition of instrumental alchemy as part of a family lineage shaped by three distinctive alchemists. From the master Zuo Ci 左慈, Ge Hong’s granduncle Ge Xuan 葛玄 received a body of texts. His granduncle then passed them down to his own master, Zheng Yin 鄭隱. Ge Hong subsequently received the following texts: three volumes of Taiqing danjing 太清丹經 (Scripture on the Grand Purity Elixir), one volume of Jiuding danjing 九鼎丹經 (Scripture on the Nine Tripods Elixirs), and one volume of Jinye danjing 金液丹經 (Scripture on the Golden Liquor Elixir) (IC 71). Historically these three texts formed the major corpus of the early tradition. According to Chen Guofu’s canonical study, the three volumes of Grand Purity are lost. One volume of Nine Tripods and one volume of Golden Liquor still exist.10 Ge Hong’s inheritance of these texts suggests that Ge Hong belonged to a lineage of several hundred years. Joseph Needham has demonstrated in Figure 9.1 how various alchemical traditions were developed and converged over a period of five centuries between the Han and Jin dynasties. By the fourth century, this lineage did not only speak for Ge Hong’s authority on the subject, but also added to his chances of success. His writings continued the tradition and further brought together medicine and instrumental studies under the general framework of Daoist soteriology. Historically Ge Hong had a profound impact on later traditions. For instance, the Baopuzi’s Script on the Bubbling Gold (Potion) of the Immortals 抱朴子神仙金汋經 (DZ 19), a later text attributed to Ge Hong, listed the three ancient texts mentioned above in the same order. A later editor copied almost the entire fourth chapter of the Baopuzi, on Golden Elixirs,

河上丈人 He Shang Zhang Ren 张陵 Zhang Ling

安期生 An Qi Sheng

张陵出 黄帝九鼎丹经 神仙传卷四 太清金液神丹经 张陵为序 陈国符 考375 太清金液，此乃安期所传 陶弘景 登真隐诀 陈国符 考375

马鸣生 Ma Ming Sheng

毛翕公 Mao Xi Gong 乐瑕公 Yüe Xia Gong

马鸣生于青城山授 太清金液神丹 云及七鉴 卷106 阴真君传 p728-9 神仙传卷四 陈国符 考375

乐臣公 Le Chen Gong 盖公 Gai Gong 曹参 Cao Can

阴长生 Yin Chang Sheng

撰太清神丹方 陈国符 考375，380

李仲甫 Li Zhong Fu

神仙传

虞生 Yü Sheng

魏伯杨 Wei Bo Yang

吕子华 Lü Zi Hua

徐从事 Xü Cong Shi

鲍靓 Bao Jing

淳于叔通 Chun Yü Shu Tong

吴猛 Wu Meng

杨义 Yang Yi

左慈 Zuo Ci

王思真 Wang Si Zhen

抱朴子 自传

许迈 Xü Mai

丁义 Ding Yi

朱先生 Zhu Xian Sheng

抱朴子 金丹

葛玄 Ge Xüan 郑隐 Zheng Ying 葛洪 Ge Hong

Fig. 9.1.  Alchemic traditions between the Han and Jin periods. The reconstruction is based on the studies of Joseph Needham and Chen Guofu as well as my own research. Here I adopt the general scheme of alchemic traditions proposed by Needham in Science and Civilisation in China, vol. 5, part 3, 77. During my research I only managed to find some of the historical records on Ge Hong’s side of the tradition. The text notes in the diagram demonstrate the intergenerational continuation from Zhang Ling to Ge Hong.

242

comparative ontology

to form the first portion of the text, yet the later portions evidently used instrumental alchemy to explain internal alchemy. Moreover, the titles of early texts mentioned in Ge Hong’s writings were often wholly or partially borrowed by texts of later writers in the present Daoist Canon to claim some form of lineage. One of Ge Hong’s greatest achievements was to make the secret tradition public. He was the first alchemist to publish the sacred texts. Forty-one detailed prescriptions can be found in the chapter on Golden Elixirs (IC 74–87) and another seven in the chapter on Yellow and White (IC 289–291). In the chapter on the Bibliographical Tradition (19),11 he documented many alchemical texts among 204 ancient texts, with specific indication of the number of fascicles in each (IC 333–335). The publication was revolutionary. By making the sacred texts public, Ge Hong was making a political move to invite many educated Confucians like himself to leave their social commitment behind and engage in the empirical study of Nature. The Golden Liquor Among the three sets of alchemical texts mentioned earlier, the third text, the Golden Liquor 金液丹經, has not survived. In the Canon, the Scripture on the Golden Liquor Elixir of Grand Purity 太清金液神丹經 has a similar title, but it is a later edited text of a different sort. The Scripture on the Immortal Bubbling Gold (Potion) of the Immortals by Baopuzi 抱朴子神仙金汋經 in the present Daoist Canon belongs to the group of later editorial works based on the entire chapter on Golden Elixirs. Therefore, the reconstruction of the original text relies on Ge Hong’s writing because it is the first appearance of the original text. The following is Ge Hong’s recollection of the method. To synthesize it, take one measure of liquid gold [jinye 金液] and mercury and cook them for thirty days. When the reaction is complete [when they liquefy], pour it into a yellow-earth vessel, and then seal it with Six-One Mud [liuyi ni 六一泥]. Fire the vessel for sixty two-hour periods [liushi shi 六十時]; [the sublimated liquor] will form the elixir. If one takes the elixir of the size of a small bean, the person should become an immortal. Use one spatula [yidao gui 一刀圭] of this elixir powder, and project it into one jin (斤) of mercury; the mercury will be turned into white silver. Take one jin of this elixir and heat it with intense fire, and it will form red gold and flow as liquor. Colloidal gold is called elixir gold [danjin 丹金]. (IC 83)

The passage describes a very early method, if not the earliest recorded method, used to form a solution of natural gold. The procedure first



the many243

involves the wet method (shuifa 水法) by placing natural gold in liquid mercury in a vessel for thirty days, then employs the firing method (huofa 火法) by placing the vessel sealed with Six-One Mud in a fire for sixty twohour time periods. The term “period” (shi 時) is an ancient unit of time. One day is divided into twelve two-hour periods. Sixty two-hour periods equal five days. Thus the solubilization process takes thirty-five days to liquefy natural gold into colloidal gold. Another key component of the text is the so-called elixir powder.” Ge Hong does not explain what it is. Instead he points out that the elixir is used in the alchemical projection (dianjin shu 點金術) to turn base metals into artificial gold or silver. The text, then, indicates two separate projections. A small quantity (one spatula) of the powder transforms one jin (five hundred grams) of mercury into artificial silver. Under the firing method, a large quantity (one jin) of the powder will form the red and flowing colloidal gold called elixir gold. Evidently Ge Hong has omitted many details to protect the secrecy of the Golden Liquor method. Hence the method is nowhere near intelligible enough to explain how the alchemical change happens. Fortunately this influential text appears with more details in a later version. The same method with commentary notes has survived in the Canon and appears in the first chapter of The Scripture on the Immortal Bubbling Gold (Potion) of the Immortals by Baopuzi 抱朴子神仙金汋經. According to Needham’s translation, the procedure is identified as forming a “cyclical-transformed elixir” (huandan 還丹), or the Return Elixir. 12 liang 兩 of gold and 12 liang of mercury are first mixed to form an amalgam, then washed several times with water and sealed in a bamboo tube after adding 2 liang each of realgar and saltpetre, with some vinegar, after 100 days a suspension will be formed. Then 2 jin of mercury are introduced into this suspension and heated in the presence of vinegar for 30 days. After this time the mercury, having turned purple in colour, is taken out, sealed in an earthenware pot (and presumably heated) for a day and a night. Then the “cyclically-transformed elixir” is completed.12

The text mentions that the same base materials, gold and mercury, are used. Compared with the previous text, the main method is acidification, or the wet method, followed by the firing method, which the text does not mention explicitly. Reading this text in conjunction with the last text, the two methods become more intelligible. Additional realgar, saltpeter, and vinegar are employed in the second

244

comparative ontology

method. They may be used to assist the long process of dissolving a goldmercury alloy into the colloidal form. With this additional information, it is evident that Ge Hong has omitted the following crucial details in the first stage of acidification: Gold and mercury must first form an amalgam; Additional materials are used to assist the acidification; The slow process requires one hundred days; A bamboo tube is used as the reaction vessel; No heating is involved.

Natural gold is one of the most nonreactive metals. To directly dissolve it requires a strong acid, such as nitro-hydrochloric acid, known to modern chemistry. Ge Hong’s text reveals an indirect approach. Gold and mercury first form an amalgam that is chemically less stable. Realgar, saltpeter, and vinegar may hold the key to dissolving the gold-mercury alloy. Heated, realgar, saltpeter, and vinegar may react with each other to produce the strong acid required for dissolving the alloy. The nonheating method may be a later improvement to ensure a slower process (not thirty but one hundred days) inside the bamboo tube. In the second stage of the heating process, the thirty days of heating is significantly longer than the five days cooking time in the previous text. A large quantity of mercury (two jin) and some vinegar are later added to the gold-mercury alloy. The heated acidification turns the mercury purple. And then the product is sealed in an earthenware pot (a yellow-earth vessel in the previous text). Probably intense heat is applied to the pot, which may be sealed with Six-One Mud, to withstand the high temperature (as mentioned in the previous text). The outcome of the whole alchemical process may produce a colloidal alloy called Returned Elixir. Compared with the previous text, here there is no mention of the projection, which produces artificial gold and silver for commercial and technological purposes. The naming of the elixir has created great confusion. Is the final product the Golden Liquor or the Returned Elixir? Are the two the same? Historically, Ge Hong’s method belonged to the elixir tradition of Tai­ qing 太清. By tracing the lineage, another reconstruction by Fabrizio Pregadio reveals even clearer details of the process.13 Ge Hong’s method actually compresses in a single text two separate processes of compounding the Gold Liquor and the Returned Elixir. In the making of Golden Liquor, “an amalgam of powdered gold and mercury ‘is placed in a bamboo cylinder, adding saltpetre and realgar; it is said that former dissolves the latter,



the many245

which in turn neutralizes the toxicity of gold. The cylinder is sealed with silk and lacquer, and is immersed in vinegar. In one hundred days gold and mercury will dissolve forming the Gold Water (colloidal gold) and the Mercury Water respectively, that will be separated and distinguishable from each other.’” 14 The key element in the passage is the separation of the end products. The Gold Water is heavier than the Mercury Water, so the colloidal gold can easily be retrieved from the bottom of the vessel. The second phase in making the Returned Elixir is a sublimation process: “Additional mercury is boiled in the Gold Liquor; vinegar is then poured over it. The mercury is then heated for thirty days, after which it takes on a purple colour, and is placed in a crucible luted with Six-One Mud.” 15 As the result of the sublimation, a small quantity of sublimated metal forms small beans on the top part of the crucible, the cooling part. It then can be collected as the Returned Elixir. A small quantity of it can be used in the alchemy of projection to turn a large amount of base metal into artificial “gold” or “silver.” This projection is mentioned in the first text. In 1964 the Chinese chemist Wang Kuike 王奎克 published a reconstruction with detailed chemical formulas to explain the alchemical process. The key part of the reaction consists of two consecutive changes: 16 4Au + 8NaCN + O2 + 2H2O → 4Na[Au(CN)2] + 4NaOH 4Au + 8KCN + O2 + 2H2O → 4K[Au(CN)2] + 4KOH

The theoretical model is said to have been recently demonstrated in a chemical laboratory.17 The chemical reconstruction has made Ge Hong’s method historically valuable. In the history of chemistry, it is the first recorded method that can practically dissolve natural gold and make potable gold. Modern scholars have overlooked the philosophical significance of Ge Hong’s method as compared with its contribution to chemistry. To dissolve unchangeable gold is an ancient proof that everything is subject to change. The key question is, “What can be regarded as unchangeable?” Not long ago, it was generally accepted that molecules were the primaries in chemistry. Soon physics argued that the atom was the core matter, which consists of an atomic nucleus and extranuclear electrons. Then atomic physics for the first time rejected Greek atomism—a plurality of changeless Parmenidean Beings—by the proof that the atom, which cannot be cut (or had no parts), can be split. The atomic nucleus was made of smaller particles, protons and neutrons. Using a particle accelerator, quantum physics now proves that these particles again are subject to change. In the highly

246

comparative ontology

energized instrumental “egg,” they are breakable into increasingly smaller and smaller entities. To view the matter against its scientific background, the dissolving of gold made two arguments. One was to define what is unchangeable; the other was to paradoxically to show its changeability. For many centuries before the rise of modern chemistry, natural gold had been generally accepted as the most unchangeable natural mineral. It can be melted hundreds of times but remains the same (melting is a change of physical state but not a chemical change). But Ge Hong’s method indicates that gold can be changed into something else through alchemy. The real point, however, is not about the dissolvability of gold, but the changeability of the most unchangeable. It is similar to the breaking up of an atom. Likewise, by targeting the most enduring mineral, gold, Ge Hong’s method has proven that all matter is subject to change. This is a significant philosophical point. The point is universal change or in Ge Hong’s words: “Change is the principle of Nature.” This principle is not a generalization made on the basis of a single discovery but has been conceived during countless practical experiments. The dissolving of gold was a serendipitous discovery that belonged to Ge Hong’s family lineage. Yet the discovery happened to be the instrumental proof for Ge Hong’s hypothesis. For Ge Hong, two talismans of reality and theory did actually match. Chemistry will certainly not reject change as a universal phenomenon, but it has trouble with a single principle of change for all changes. Any chemical change must be explained within the limits of indestructible elements and unchangeable chemical laws. The multiple elements and the plurality of laws form the chemical system of material pluralism. Pluralism by nature denies alchemical monism. As the above formulas show, the two changes contain the matter-form orders that modern chemistry calls formulas. Although they are irreducible to each other, they are connected as two phases of the general change from natural gold to artificial gold. Perhaps this is as far as chemistry will go with alchemy. It can accept the relative unity of plural orders within a specific reaction. But chemistry will not drift beyond its pluralist boundary to accept the monist proposal. Is Ge Hong’s principle of change merely an ancient dream for a grand unity? The Returned Elixir The Returned Elixir was mentioned in the first classic text, the Scripture on the Elixir of Grand Purity. According to Ge Hong, the original text had nine fascicles (juan 卷): “The first three juan have never been transmitted to anyone. The middle three shall be submerged in the pool of Three Wells, because none is qualified to be the recipient. The last three volumes form



the many247

the first upper book, the middle book, and the last book of the current Scripture on the Elixir of Grand Purity” (IC 76). The description confirms that the version Ge Hong possessed during the Jin dynasty was composed of three fascicles. However, Ge Hong’s version again was lost. It is nowhere to be found in contemporary texts. The only surviving portion of the original text appears in Ge Hong’s recollection in the chapter on the Golden Elixir. In the Daoist Canon, the first part of the Oral Instructions of the Heavenly Master on the Grand Purity Scripture 太清經天師口訣 (DZ 18, 787–792) bears some textual resemblance to it. It may belong to the same textual tradition, but it is a later edition.18 Therefore, the primary textual source for the retroversion of the Returned Elixir is Ge Hong’s recollection. The Oral Instructions is the secondary source. The Master Embracing Simplicity says: the method of the Grand Purity elixir derives from Yuan Jun 元君, who was the master of Laozi. . . . This Grand Purity elixir is harder to synthesize than are the elixirs of the Nine Tripods, but it is the superior method to ascend into the heavens during daylight. To synthesize the elixir, first the Flowery Pond [huachi 華池] must be constructed. Red Salt [chiyan 赤鹽], Hard Snow [genyun 艮雲], Mystery White [xuanbai 玄白], Flying Talismans [feifu 飛符], and Three-Five Divine Water [shenshui 神水] must be prepared, and then the fire may be lit. To achieve immortality requires ingesting the elixir of the one-cycle for three years, of the two-cycle for two years, of the three-cycle for one year, of the four-cycle for half a year, of the five-cycle for one hundred days, of the six-cycle for forty days, of the seven-cycle for thirty days, of the eight-cycle for ten days, and of the nine-cycle for three days. Place the nine-cycle elixir inside a divine tripod, expose it under the sun after the summer solstice. Once the tripod becomes hot, insert a jin 斤 of Red Child [zhuer 朱兒, cinnabar] beneath the lid. Watch over it and wait for the essence of the sun shining upon it. After a while something suddenly happens as the result of sunshine. The compound will produce sparking and splendid five-colored divine light, and immediately be transformed into the Returned Elixir [huandan 還丹]. Whoever takes a spatula of the returned elixir will at once ascend into heaven in daylight. The script also mentions that the nine-cycle elixir should be placed in a sealed earthenware crucible and heated by a chaff fire, first gentle then intense. From one to nine, the elixirs are formed in varied number of days, so the effectiveness can be differentiated. The fewer the cycles of the elixir that has been transformed, the less its strength. Therefore, by ingesting the less transformed elixir, immortality will be

248

comparative ontology

attained slowly. The greater the number of transformations that the elixir has, the greater its strength. Therefore, by ingesting the multicycled elixir, immorality will be attained quickly.19 (IC 76, 77)

Most alchemical texts claim divine authorship, and it is believed that the cosmic creator Yuan Jun revealed the Grand Purity text. Yan Jun is the head of all immortals under the heavens, who is capable of “conciliating Yin and Yang and commanding spirits and the gods of wind and rain.” For Ge Hong, the supremacy of Yuan Jun is “the result of learning the Way and ingesting the elixir rather than his congenital nature” (IC 76). It is certainly contradictory to say his creativity is both ungenerated as the ­creator of all and attained through the means of cultivating virtue and ingesting the elixir. But such a style of claiming divine authorship is a common practice in Daoism. The claim is soteriological. One can attain immortality through alchemical means. The real author may be the master Yin Shady Longevity (Yin Changsheng 陰長生), a contemporary of Zuo Ci 左慈 who lived some years earlier at the end of the Han dynasty.20 By attributing the script to Yuan Jun, Ge Hong makes a claim with a familiar soteriological-cosmogonical outlook. On the one hand, the elixir is the authentic path toward the immortal state called Grand Purity.21 On the other, in his usual anthropomorphic style, Ge Hong has attributed the method to a creator figure who possessed two cosmic essences: the capacity to conciliate Yin and Yang, and the ability to create natural forces through self-change. These two essences are synthesized in the material Dao called the elixir of Grand Purity. With the references to Yuan Jun’s omnipotence, the elixirs are said to have the superior effect of attaining a soteriological end. And the effectiveness of each the nine-cycle elixirs is in direct proportion to the number of cycles through which the elixir has been transformed from a composite of material substances to a single embodied essence. The number “nine” is the largest integer in a base-ten number system and symbolizes the maximum number of cycles of transformation. In astronomy, Ge Hong uses the term jiuxiao 九霄 (nine heavens) to describe the totality of heaven capped inside of Xuan (IC 1). The number nine is also used in three kinds of talismans: jiutian fu 九天符, jiuling fu 九靈符, and jiutai fu 九台符 (IC 335). In alchemy, the cyclical nine changes also correspond to stages in the transformation that the universe has undergone to reach its current condition. Against the cosmogonical background, the scripture ranks the strength of the elixirs in an increasing order from the one-cycle elixir to the ninecycle elixir. The nine-cycle elixir is the strongest because it has material-



the many249

ized the essence of Nature in the same degree as the creator, who has transformed the primordial formless Qi through nine cycles of self-change. Contrary to the spiral evolution of the cosmos from one to many, the making of the elixirs represents a return from the many to the one. The name “Returned Elixir” makes this reverse clear. The whole alchemical process is about the return from multifarious base materials to a single essence. As is commonly the case in Ge Hong’s alchemical texts, this particular description only gives an impression, not a prescription. There is just enough information for alchemists to know what the solution and fire methods and key ingredients are. Nevertheless, the information is nowhere near enough to make the text intelligible to outsiders. In fact, no alchemical texts are intended to be fully intelligible without oral instructions, which were never written down but passed on through a strict master-apprentice relationship. Even with oral instructions, texts are meaningless unless they have been turned into praxes, which is the essence of instrumentalism. In other words, the text, written in obscure technical language, contains introductory and invitational messages for those seeking immortality, but it is not a scientific manual written as a step-by-step guide. To understand hidden connotations, one is required to have practical experience, during which a master instructs an apprentice in the practice by revealing crucial points with oral instructions, such as cyclical time regulated by fire. This praxis-instruction-realization procedure is the same method used in the Preservation of the One and evidently becomes the key phase in later internal alchemy. For alchemists, it is common knowledge that the greatest difficulty is not to obtain scriptures, but to gain instruction. To gain instruction, as his autobiographic passages show (IC 71, 83, 287), Ge Hong holds that one must live a contemplative life within a Daoist order, prepare the mind and the body for years to achieve a pure state of simplicity, and prove himself to be worthy as the bearer of the instruction in order to carry on the lineage. With these hermeneutical difficulties in mind, it is still necessary to make the text at least more accessible to modern minds. In the first paragraph, the text mentions two instruments: the Flowery Pond (huachi 華池) and the earthenware crucible (tufu 土釜). These terms indicate that both the dissolving method and the firing method are used. Four key ingredients include Red Salt, Hard Snow, Mystery White, and Three-Five Divine Water. Among them the first three ingredients are mentioned with greater explanatory details in the Oral Instructions: “Alchemists shall mix a special mud with White Lead [qianbai 鉛白, Mystery White in Ge Hong’s text] and the great vinegar [dacu 大醋]. Having been well stirred, the mixture can be applied to the top of an earthenware crucible. Then a lid made of the base

250

comparative ontology

material Red Salt is used to cover the crucible. Reapply the mixture to the joint in order to seal the crucible” (DZ 18, 788). Red Salt in the text is an impure mineral salt and possibly contains iron, which would explain its red appearance. It is said that a lid of the earthenware crucible is made of the mineral. The lead-based substance Mystery White is used as a material to provide the seal that the earthenware crucible requires to survive intense heat without cracking. These two explanatory details correspond with Ge Hong’s warning: in order to achieve success, the earthenware crucible must be completely sealed during the heating procedure. Hard Snow is also known as Masculine Snow (xiongxue 雄雪): this is possibly a sort of alchemical mercury directly involved in the reaction as a key ingredient. The Oral Instructions say: “To use Hard Snow one shall place the Six-One Mud in a big flat pan and pile it up to form a square container like a dry measuring unit for grain [shengxing 升形]. Dry it completely in the shade [not in the sun, in order to have an even shrinkage]. Place Hard Snow at the bottom, cover the top with a copper sheet, and spray some great vinegar inside the container. After being heated in a coal fire, Hard Snow and the copper sheet will disappear” (DZ 18, 788). Here the text reveals that “coal fire” is applied in comparison with the use of a “chaff fire” specified in Ge Hong’s version. It is a common knowledge that intense fire (wuhuo 武火) and gentle fire (wenhuo 文火) can yield completely different results even with the same base materials. “Heated by a chaff fire, first gentle then intense” is perhaps the most important clue to obtaining the elixir by knowing the degree of firing (huohou 火候). The use of a chaff fire rather than a coal fire is certainly intended to produce a lower temperature, probably with the aim of gaining easier and more responsive regulation. It should be noted, though, that the name “Returned Elixir” appears many times in various alchemical texts, and the heating method differs from text to text. Compared with the description in the Nine Tripods, Ge Hong’s text records a solar heating method.22 By exposing the tripod “under the sun after the summer solstice” and adding extra cinnabar, the heated tripod will transform the nine-cycle elixir into Returned Elixir. To what extent alchemists used solar energy is unclear, but the method is strikingly similar to the technique used in modern solar heating systems. In order to use solar energy, the construction of the tripod becomes essential. The tripod had a double-layer construction with metal outside and clay inside. The metal tripod would usually be painted black in order to have the best heat reception from the summer sun. The clay layer had perhaps three layers. The metal interior is first covered with the material called the Six-One Mud. On the top of it is a layer of Red Salt. Then a cop-



the many251

per sheet is placed on the top part of the vessel to reflect heat traveling upward. The interior, therefore, functions as insulation to cumulate and preserve heat. Modern solar heating systems are usually constructed with a double-layer glass tube with a transparent outer layer and an inner layer painted black. Air is extracted between layers to create a vacuum for insulation. On a normal sunny day, the interior temperature can reach over 200 degrees Celsius. Likewise, if the tripod is well insulated and heat is not radiated back into the air, its interior could reach a very high temperature during a summer afternoon. From the modern point of view, the key is the temperature. But Ge Hong says nothing about temperature, merely revealing how the instrument is constructed. As long as the instrument is correctly constructed, reaching the temperature is just a matter of time. Under these conditions, Ge Hong provides another instruction. When the tripod is hot, one jin (five hundred grams) of red cinnabar (Red Child 朱兒) is placed under the lid (IC 76). As the “essence of the sun” shines upon the tripod, the text says, “the compound will produce sparking and splendid five-colored divine light.” This spectacular phenomenon can be explained by chemistry.23 Cinnabar (HgS) when heated by solar energy begins to decompound at a relatively low temperature of 285 degrees Celsius. The reaction produces liquid mercury and sulfur dioxide gas. Mercury at this temperature is unstable and quickly reacts with oxygen, forms hydrargyrum oxide (HgO), and produces more heat for subsequent reaction. The end product, the “Returned Elixir,” could be a mixture of sulfuretted hydrargyrum and hydrargyrum oxide (HgS + HgO), both red in color. The chemical reactions that take place on the top of the tripod can be explained by the following formulas: HgS (red) + O2 → Hg (white silver) + SO2 (yellow smoke) Hg (white fog) + S (yellow) → HgS (black) → HgS (red)

Modern chemists are convinced that the mystical Returned Elixir is all about the cyclical changes of HgS.24 Ge Hong had already revealed the truth to other alchemists in a short and frequently quoted sentence: “Heated cinnabar can become mercury, and the rapid change makes it cinnabar again” (IC 72). To complete the discussion of the chemical aspect of change in the reaction vessel, it is necessary to explain the function of Six-One Mud. The text does not explicitly say how the mud is used. But it is mentioned in the secondary source the Oral Instructions (DZ 18, 788). During the construction of the reaction vessel, it is a common practice that mud is used as the

252

comparative ontology

insulation material inside of the vessel. Ge Hong revealed that the term “Six-One” was an esoteric name used by alchemists, and it actually meant “seven ingredients.” But he never revealed the actual ingredients of SixOne Mud. Apparently he kept the making of this material secret simply because the success of the entire practice relied on this first stage—constructing the reaction vessel. The ingredients were made public in many later alchemical texts, but the proportions were either unknown or vary from text to text. According to the study of Sivin on the prescription by the alchemist Sun Simo 孫思邈, the ingredients can be chemically identified as shown in Table 9.125 A test conducted by Sivin demonstrates the application of the mud made of seven materials. The compound can stand the intense heat at 900 degrees Celsius without showing any signs of cracking.26 Using the mud as the covering material actually constructs the reaction vessel as a chemically stable and physically insulated and sealed environment. From Sivin’s study, we can further speculate that a possible reaction could take place in the middle of the tripod. The energy generated from the oxidization process on the top part of the tripod can create intense heat and bring the interior temperature to 450 to 500 degrees. This temperature (above the evaporation temperature of mercury, 375 degrees ­Celsius) is required for the Mystery White to react. Oxidization:

Hg + 1/2O2 → HgO (red)

The reaction of Mystery White:

6PbO + O2 → 2Pb3O4

During the reaction, the “splendid five-colored divine light” may partly derive from the burning of minerals: Na+ (yellow), Pb+ (white) contained in Mystery White, the cyclical change of HgS (red), and Cu+ (blue) in the

Table 9.1.  Six identified ingredients of the Six-One Mud Arsenolite As2O3

砷石

Red bole

赤石脂

A red siliceous clay

Left-oriented oyster shell

左顧牡蠣

Kalinite Kal(SO4)2.12H2O

礬石

Talc 3MgO.2SiO2.2H2O

滑石

Turkestan salt

impure NaCl

戎鹽

Lake salt

Na2CO3.NaHCO3.2H2O

鹵堿



the many253

copper sheet. These reactions would have inspired Ge Hong. The spectacular phenomena energized by the sun displays the remarkable transformation of the elixir.

Alchemy beyond Chemistry: The Induction of Change and Life The Separation of Change and Life in Inorganic Chemistry Sivin’s chemical reconstruction and laboratory tests make the text more intelligible. But these chemical formulas bear no reference to the efficacious Returned Elixir. All that can be said about the elixir can be summarized as the cyclical reaction of cinnabar. There is nothing more to it. Inorganic chemistry treats these base materials as lifeless matter, externally objectifies the reactions, and pays no attention to the induction between the changes in the instrumental egg and the soteriological change in the human egg of the alchemists. One particular criticism against alchemy, perhaps the most damaging, is also articulated by chemistry. Some elixirs are toxic because they contain the heavy metals mercury and lead as well as highly toxic arsenide. Ingesting elixirs can cause slow or rapid poisoning to the body. The result is deathdealing rather than life-giving. Thus chemistry completely rejects the synthesis of change and life behind instrumental alchemy.27 The driving force for alchemists to find the medicine of life has been denied. Chemistry was born out of the magic play of alchemy but divorced it long ago during the rebirth of reason. That elixirs became associated with death rather than life contributed to the death of instrumental alchemy.28 Finding the pill of immortality belonged to a Daoist hallucination that historically faded away as more and more people died by ingesting elixirs.29 Instrumental alchemy lasted over one and a half millennia before it died away. During its dying phase, internal alchemy was born through the maturing spirituality under the influence of Buddhist soteriology. Certainly inorganic chemists, Sivin and Needham alike in the West and Chen Guofu and Zhao Kuanghua in China, have made considerable contributions to the study of alchemy. Chen Guofu’s canonical studies are undoubtedly groundbreaking. Yet after almost a century of diligence, the studies have revealed their limits and blind side. On the one hand, the “alchemy as chemistry” thesis claims that it has explained alchemical changes chemically. On the other hand, its rationalism has explained away the synthesis of change and life. Historians of chemistry have worn protective glasses of rationalism during their research, and what they have found

254

comparative ontology

is the same body of chemical knowledge, the chemical reactions reproducible in a modern lab. Apart from arguing for a lineage between chemistry and alchemy—a lineage that was named long ago by moral philosopher Rousseau before the French Revolution—the thesis has added nothing new to the pool of knowledge that modern chemistry has already mastered. Apart from making the point that Chinese alchemy evolved independently from Western chemistry, the thesis does not give due credit to Daoism because it has rejected the core value of the soteriological dimension of alchemy. Apart from grieving over the loss of instrumentalism, modern scholars should also look at the decline of instrumental alchemy in the light of the marriage of Confucian intellectualism and Buddhist soteriology. Daoist bodily enlightenment—the material unity of change and life symbolized in the elixirs—was turned into a Buddhist spiritual enlightenment that argued life beyond change. The core of Buddhist soteriology was basically to go beyond suffering—the antithesis of change and life. The marriage of Confucianism and Buddhism was the Chinese equivalent of PlatonicChristian soteriology focusing on spirituality. Historically since the Song dynasty, it formed a political force that removed Daoism and accepted Buddhism as the state religion. The rise of internal alchemy was the Daoist response to the Buddhist challenge. Though instrumental alchemy faded away, internal alchemy maintained the core value of Daoism by cultivating the synthesis of change and life within another form of alchemical egg— the pneumatic body. Alchemy cannot be reduced to inorganic chemistry. If we look to biochemistry, we find a different view. The change-life synthesis is the starting point for the life sciences. Darwin’s theory of evolution can be considered the fundamental philosophy of the life sciences. Life and its material evolution are understood in the context of change. After Hegelian spiritualism and Marxist materialism, Darwin’s naturalism was the first major attempt to bring ancient Heraclitus and Anaximander to life. What Darwinism has presented is a one and many argument. The evolution of species is governed by change; change is one perpetual principle, rather than a temporary phenomenon, of the many. Like Ge Hong’s genealogical one and many, the diversity of life unfolds out of the process of material change. In alchemical terms, the process is the synthesis of change and life, an induction of natural change and life transformation. Each life can be viewed as an alchemical egg—a unity of matter and form. Cyclical change governs the evolution of life. Similar to the cyclical change of the Returned Elixir, the ceasing-to-be of some gives rise to the coming-to-be of others. And the collective life of all lives manifests the unceasing cyclical change—



the many255

the One. The unfolding nature of the One shapes the evolution of the many. Is this unity determinate? For Darwin, although natural selection is determinate, evolution is an open-ended. Thus it is indeterminate. For Daoism, the unifying One is the creative Nature. The One is only determinate in relation to the many by giving birth to them. But in itself it is indeterminate. Because the ending is the beginning in the cyclical change, there is no inbuilt teleological purpose in the change. Alchemical Change as Cosmogonical Change What does the comparison with Darwinism imply? Alchemical change should not be restricted to chemical changes, but rather considered in the context of cosmogonical change. Change is the universal phenomenon of the world. Plato also recognizes the universality of change, except that he categorizes it as becoming subordinate to being. Chemistry follows the ontological path of Plato by explaining changing phenomena with unchangeable formulas. Alchemical change relies on the Daoist ontology, similar to Heraclitus’ changing logos, that change manifests the One—the opposite of Parmenidean-Platonic Being. Becoming defines Being. Being gives rise to Becoming. In chemistry one also tends to view chemical elements as unchangeable matter. Chemical elements can combine with each other, for example (HgS), but they cannot mutate from one to the other. Such an understanding of irreducible materials can be traced to Aristotelian indestructible matter or, in a plural sense, atoms and Empedocles’ four elements. Aristotle mainly understands change on a scale with two opposite ends (Physics 188b21–26). For instance, various temperatures are located on a continuous scale between cold and hot. The regulation of alchemical fire represents a similar understanding of variation of degree. But alchemical change of minerals is not scaled in degrees as variation of the same genus, but is generative in kind. This concept of substantial change can also be found in Aristotle. For instance, a house burns down and thus ceases to be a house. However, one of the chief difficulties to conducting a dialogue with Aristotle is the general definition of change: change involves the principle of privation and actualization of a form (201a10–12). For instance, the form of tree is implicit in a seed but explicit in a grown tree. Change is mainly the actualization of the potential within the same substance. But Ge Hong’s method of dissolving gold cannot be explained by potential-actual change. The external acid solution plays a more fundamental role than the internal potentiality that makes gold dissolvable. Unlike a burnt house, the sort of substantial change in alchemy is generative rather than degenerative. Chemistry, of course, rejects the Aristotelian view on change as varia-

256

comparative ontology

tion of the substance. It maintains the principle of potential-actual change in chemical formulas, insofar as the basic elements can be regrouped and not destroyed. This indestructibility makes chemical elements closer to the atomists’ view of matter. The combinability of the basic elements, in contrast, is similar to Empedocles’ theory that argues that the four elements can be regrouped into something new. As we shall see later, one crucial point sets the Daoist understanding of material change apart from the Western views. The Chinese Five Phases can change and mutate into one another in a cycle. This changeability of the primaries defines alchemical change as transformation of kinds. Moreover, change within a reaction vessel is not narrowly viewed as one particular instance. Rather, the process of change overall involves a correspondence between the micro and the macro, between an alchemical egg and the cosmogonical egg. The change that Ge Hong emphasizes the most is generative change in essence with the generative Qi. Induction Alchemy believes in induction between change and life. Induction refers to indirect but consequential correspondence between the two, like two coils in an inductor. The alchemical view of life is not restricted to human life; rather it is the other way around: human vitality is viewed against cosmic potency. The synthesis of change and life emerges from the cosmogonical egg, from which Qi evolves through generative change. Ge Hong believes that Qi is the foundation of all lives. Plato also argues that human life, though defined psychologically, shares the same substance with the World Soul. For Plato, immortal souls have an eternal home in the rational, immaterial, and changeless realm. For Ge Hong, the most authentic form of immortality is the body-spirit unity. The essence of life is not unchangeable, but creative. Ge Hong’s soteriology argues that changing life from finite being to infinite existence does not mean the breaking up of the body-spirit unity, but carries the same natural bond by partaking in the cosmic continuity of change and life. Though modern biology denies physical immortality, its Darwinian philosophy accepts the continuity of change and life from species to species. The continuity of evolution is cosmogonical in essence. Its dialectical opposite is the discontinuity of natural selection. The change-life continuity persists through the selective discontinuity that the extinction of one species gives rise new ones. If the paradox of ontological continuity and discontinuity is denied, the denial of the change-life relation implies that there should be no life at all. However, the birth of a new life, such a human infant, is the very synthesis of change and life.



the many257

The key idea behind alchemical evolution is the metaphor of the changing egg. Human life is viewed as an alchemical egg that changes within the cosmic egg. Other creatures also evolve into various eggs. Each creature comes into existence as the result of internalizing external change; what happens in the time-space matrix is engraved in the individual formation of matter-form. Thus, each living entity is “pregnant” with change, and carries cosmic change within its vessel. The pregnancy of each creature is as creative as Xuan that is in constant gestation of Qi. Even minerals are not considered as lifeless matter. They can “biologically” grow inside an alchemical egg—an instrumental miniature of the cosmic time-space egg. For instance, Ge Hong points out that “the essence of cinnabar can generate gold,” and “if the mountain has cinnabar, one can often find gold below the cinnabar layer” (IC 286). For chemistry, the generalization in the first part of the sentence is false. But geologically the second part is true.30 Gold seems to “grow” out of cinnabar ore—a matrix of new matter—in the macrocosm. Instrumental alchemy aims to reenact the evolution of the macrocosm inside its microcosm and to shorten the long natural time taken by natural transformation by alchemical means using cyclical transformation. The growing of gold artificially inside the alchemical time-space egg corresponds to the growth of gold in the natural time-space egg. Ge Hong concludes, “The elixir gold made from alchemical change contains the essences of base minerals and is superior to natural gold” (IC 286).31 Again, chemistry will reject the superiority of artificial gold because it is not gold at all. But it overlooks a philosophical point beyond the norms of chemistry. By interrupting natural cyclical change, alchemists break up base materials and reinsert change into the formation of matter through the instrumental method. Inserting change into matter is an artificial means of the natural process of change but happens far more quickly than the process of internalizing evolution into a species. The primary goal is not balancing chemical formulas, but the study of matter in its most fundamental form, namely, matter in transformation. The essence of alchemy, therefore, is not about chemistry, but physics.

Alchemy and Physics: Two Forms of Cosmogony I shall set three limits to the comparison between physics and alchemy by saying what this comparison is and is not. (1) Alchemy is not physics; alchemy is alchemy. But the OM arguments in alchemy and physics are comparable. The analogy does not replace the “alchemy as chemistry” thesis with another “alchemy as physics” one. Rather it explores the OM issue

258

comparative ontology

hidden within alchemical practices and draws references from popular physics so that alchemical concepts of time, space, change, and matter can be made more intelligible. The point is not to show physics as an interpretative norm, but to highlight cosmogony—an ancient form of the OM argument—that is shared by both alchemy and physics. This OM inquiry is ignored in the “alchemy as chemistry” thesis. (2) Alchemy is not modern scientific empiricism, but an ancient instrumental study of Nature. Empirical study in alchemy is not strictly empiricism by modern standards. As we shall see shortly, alchemy is closely associated with correlative thinking that draws an analogy between a crucible and the universe, between elixirs and the Dao. For modern empiricism the correlation is unwarranted. There is no direct correspondence between the physical dimension of a crucible and the actual universe governed by a complex web of principles, nor is there empirical proof to verify that the correlation is true. But Ge Hong’s alchemy represents an empirical study of Nature through instrumental means to reenact Nature’s cyclical change. This instrumentalism stands in contrast to Plato’s idealism without any instrumental study. Thus the instrumentalism shared by alchemy and physics defines a perspective to view Plato’s idealism through Ge Hong’s naturalism. (3) Alchemy is in no way a well-defined field in Daoism. Much of the textual tradition in the Daoist Canon was and still is a realm of mystery in Daoist studies. The soteriological attachment in natural studies has been a source of inspiration and a problematic for Daoism to gain more explanatory answers for its praxis. From the time of Ge Hong to the modern day, the central dispute has been the doctrine of physical immortality behind all alchemical practices. This section does not endorse Daoist soteriology as an infallible doctrine, but seeks to show its positive side. Here the focal point is the issue of change: the transformation of matter in particle physics and the transformation of life in alchemy. Behind the phenomenon of change there is a concept of material time exemplified by particles and elixirs. Therefore, the analogy between alchemy and physics once again aims to explore the OM argument by discussing change in the context of time. The “Nine-Cycle Elixir” and Its Internal Clock It is necessary to recognize that the induction of change and life in instrumental alchemy is justified by two activities: technological induction and soteriological induction. The first one involves the construction of the instrument, the prescription of minerals, and the utilization of cosmic energy from the sun or the regulation of artificial fire. These activities cre-



the many259

ate a time-space environment for the reenactment of change. A text possibly belonging to the Tang period, the Mysterious Scripture on the Nine Times Recycled Great Elixir of the Numinous Sand for the Benefit of the Sagely 九轉靈砂 大丹資聖玄經, vividly describes the correlation between the macrocosm and the microcosm: The tripod has three feet that correspond to three forms of supporting knowledge [heavenly, earthly, and human]. The unity of the upper and the lower parts corresponds to the merging of Yang and Yin. The legs four inches tall symbolize the four changing seasons. The inner chamber eight inches deep symbolizes eight points on the compass. The lower part containing eight doors allows winds to blow in from eight directions. The burning coal divided into twenty-four portions corresponds to the consecutive twenty-four fortnightly periods on the lunar calendar. . . . The Dao of the great elixir is hidden in the activity that reenacts many thousands years’ natural making with twelve-hour periods [of artificial making]. (DZ 19, 1)

Similar to Ge Hong’s description of the alchemical body in cosmic terms, in this text, the technical induction between Nature and alchemy is also described in cosmic terms. Contrary to Plato’s “thing-idea” differentiation, alchemy emphasizes the “thing-to-thing” correlation. The tripod has three supporting feet that correspond to the three branches of classic knowledge: heavenly astronomy 天文, earthly geology 地理, and human ethics 人. The upper and lower parts correspond to the order of heavenly Yang and earthly Yin. The measurement of the feet as four inches tall designates that the tripod is supported by the rotation of the four seasons. The chamber with eight doors corresponds to the eight-directional exchange between cosmic Qi and internal growth of material life. The coal used for firing is divided into twenty-four portions; each portion is subsequently used in each period divided according to the lunar year with twenty-four fortnightly “joints” (jie). And finally, the text summarizes the natural philosophy behind alchemical practice. It is to reenact Nature’s thousand years of making with days (twelve-hour periods) of instrumental making. Such a passage demonstrates the intention to build a microcosm that corresponds to the macrocosm. But this correlative thinking has its weakness, namely, idealism. The same idealism appears in the writings of the Gaitian cosmology (Gaitian shuo 蓋天說) that hopes to fit the world into perfect measurements. Like the measurements in the Gaitian theory, the inches and other measurements in this text are arbitrary and have nothing

260

comparative ontology

to do with the physical universe. But they are conventional in the contemporary cosmology. For modern empiricism, the correlation based on measurements is not convincing. But is it convincing for alchemists like Ge Hong? Arbitrary standards are regarded as innate in the world as people knew it. The “three forms of supporting knowledge” in Confucian society, “four changing seasons” in agriculture, “eight points on the compass” in navigation, and so on, are basic categories that give expression to the orderly universe. The same is true in Plato’s natural studies. Astronomical measurements were also arbitrary, but nonetheless they are representations of the created order in the intelligible world. But unlike Platonic knowledge that is purely about knowing ideas through ideas, alchemical measurements, such as the “Nine-Cycle” transformation, have a critical role in the induction theory based on fundamental correlative thinking. There is a direct correspondence between Nature’s making and alchemical transformation. One may question whether an instrument of the universe can be successfully built according to ancient measurements and categories of the world. But the significance of correlative thinking cannot be brushed away. Technical induction certainly is not an alchemical ambition. Beneath the Jura Mountains near Geneva, Switzerland, the world’s most powerful accelerator is now ready. The European Organization for Nuclear Research will conduct some of the most important scientific experiments of recent times, helping scientists to unravel how and why the universe came to exist. The modern particle accelerator works on the same principle as an alchemical vessel, that is, to create artificial conditions in which those imperceptible conditions pertaining in the early universe can be assimilated. By accelerating protons to near the speed of light and then smashing them together, physicists expect to see the breaking down of protons revealing phenomena related to the structure of matter at the primordial level. The search for the so-called god particle is basically cosmogonical-alchemical. Technical inductions ancient and modern aim at the same purpose— to reenact change. The phenomena of change associated with the cosmogony of matter are still present in the universe, but they are not perceptible by ordinary means. By shortening time and energizing space, the induction reverses time-space to its primordial unity. And the unity within the most elementary matter becomes an empirical window through which the evolution of the cosmos may be observed at the level of the most basic and creative unity. From an alchemical perspective, this creative core does not belong solely to the beginning of the universe, but also transcends time-



the many261

space and continues in and behind the myriad things made of this primary matter. Ge Hong says, “That which is Dark is the primordial ancestor of Nature and the Great Forebear of the myriad different [things] . . . Its unbroken continuity is named as excellence. . . . Therefore, where Xuan is, happiness is unceasing; where it withdraws, spirits depart and substances become fragments” (IC 1). To build a sealed time-space environment, alchemists use a key material oddly called Six-One Mud (六一泥). According to Pregadio’s study, the term “Six-One” conceals a metaphysical idea called the “reenactment of cosmogony.” 32 The total number seven recalls a seven-staged creation out of chaos in the Zhuangzi 5. And the concept of chaos is repeated in the story in chapter 21. There was an emperor titled “Chaos” (Hundun 混沌) who lived in the middle land. Unlike a normal person he lacked the “seven openings” (eyes, ears, and so on). Two kings from the north and the south came to create one physical opening each day as their way to repay his previous hospitality. On the seventh day, the emperor died as the result of forced differentiation (Zhuangzi 5). From this story Pregadio draws a parallel with the seven-day genesis in Judeo-Christian theology.33 Although he speculates in the right cosmogonical direction, the parallel is not entirely apt. Zhuangzi does not have a seven-staged creation in mind. The term “Hundun” should not be translated as chaos—a disorderly precosmos—a term that is also adopted by Sivin.34 The translation “chaos” derives from Greek mythology and is called Necessity by Plato to designate the opposite of Reason. In Chinese the characters themselves indicate that the concept is related to water. According to Shuowen jiezi 說文解字, hun 混 refers primarily to “massive flows of water” (hun feng liu ye 混豐流也), and the meaning of turbid or muddy water is secondary.35 The word dun 沌 refers to formlessness. For example, hunhun xi 沌沌兮 in Laozi 20 and hunhun dundun 渾渾沌沌 in Zhuangzi 11 both carry the meaning of “unable to identify a particular form.” 36 Moreover, in Daoist ecology the term carries a positive meaning referring to the wholeness of the world and its origin,37 rather than the negative connotation in Plato’s Timaeus (52d, e). We need to continue to translate it as “formlessness.” In alchemical terminology, it also refers to the “divine chamber” (shenshi 神室), a name for enclosed vessels, or a crucible is directly called hundun.38 What is this enclosure? It is a time-space environment or an “embryo” of matter. In one instance Ge Hong says, “Unless people have penetrated the most primordial core of things, they will not see the true shape of [Nature]” (IC 284).39 The key application of the Six-One Mud is to create a sealed chamber that is physically insulated and chemically stable. This is the spatial aspect of the Mud. Another aspect is time. “Six-One” corresponds to seven

262

comparative ontology

days; seven days is a basic time unit in alchemy. The number “Nine” in “Nine-Cycle Elixir” refers to nine times seven days. The final elixir is the end product of a sixty-three-day (9×7) period of cyclical change. The key reason for Ge Hong to keep the prescription for the Mud secret is that a successful construction of the alchemical egg holds the key to the technological induction. The time-space environment is the biological “womb” for the growth of matter. Similar to the cosmic egg, in which Xuan is the embryo of the primal matter Qi, an alchemical egg space covered with the Mud only becomes an embryo when it has been filled with minerals. Otherwise it is merely an empty vessel. And the alchemical embryogenesis will not be pregnant with the essence of life unless it is activated by the energy of fire. Otherwise, the time-space environment only contains disassociated minerals— an assembly of parts without relational ontology. Once the various minerals are energized, what happens inside the time-space environment is not chaos—absence of order—at all. It contains the orderliness of change. Ge Hong believes that the orderliness is biological. Alchemical embryogenesis happens in and through the change measured by cyclical time and energized by formless space. Like a human fetus, change produces a matterform bond that internalizes external time-space. When we put the time-space order in Ge Hong’s description of the nine-cycle elixirs into the chart and diagram in Figure 9.2, we can see two symmetrical trends in the time-space coordinates. In the chart on the left, we face again the Daoist concept of material time. Time is not an abstract idea, but is expressed by concrete things, namely, elixirs produced by various cycles of change. This material time is shown as the horizontal line in the graph, which corresponds to the second column in the table. And space is not an empty space either, like the space in atomism and the Newtonian mechanical universe. It is also a concrete notion symbolized by the material space of the elixirs. The more incubation days that it has, the smaller the elixir becomes. The last column in the table corresponds to the vertical line in the graph as space. The organizing principle of the table is change. But the change is neither a Platonic abstract idea of being and becoming, nor a scale between two opposites like Aristotelian variation. Change is interwoven together in the matrix of time and space, and materialized as different elixirs defined by its soteriological effects. The whole activity of forming elixirs defines change as a process. This process shapes various elixirs in stages. The elixirs represent the products that have gone through different incubation periods. Each elixir has internalized a specific matrix time-space in the alchemical embryo and

Fig. 9.2.  Cycles of change and material time-space

264

comparative ontology

grows into a matter-form unit. The nine-cycle elixir occupies the smallest material space because it has internalized the cyclical time turned by fire and is closest to the Xuan-One in the scale of time. The one-cycle has the biggest size because it has had the least internal time to form the bond of matter-form. These nine unities are categorized according to time (numbers of cycles) and space (physical size). They are shown in Table 9.2 as a decreasing trend. The nine-cycle elixir is held to be the most superior medicine to transform human life by strengthening the bond of change and life within the human body because it is believed to have mingled in it the natural evolution of change and life. This aspect of longevity is shown in the increasing trend in the graph. These two trends are symmetrical. The decreasing order refers to the change from the many to the One. Against the background of cosmogonical change, it shows the return from actuality to primordiality. This is the reverse order of creation. Many minerals possess different material forms in which the primal matter Qi has varied presences. The more alchemical change happens to the base materials, the simpler and stronger the bond matter-form becomes. The final elixir corresponds to materialized Dao in which Xuan is eternally pregnant with Qi. The elixir is spatially the smallest but the most everlasting in time. The materialized Dao corresponds to the creative core of the universe. When time and space are infinitely small, there is only formlessness. When the matrix of time-space is closer to zero, even matter and form are undistinguished. By ingesting the bean-sized elixir, Daoist adepts anticipate a new creation within themselves. Today bodily alchemy, which has superseded instrumental alchemy, maintains the same idea of transfiguration through the means of “ingesting” bodily elixirs produced in the crucibles of elixir fields through the pneumatic body. The transformation would put the creative core of all changes at the center of their beings. The increasing trend refers to longevity—a bond of change and life. The more the elixir has undergone the incubation of material life, the more enduring is the bond between change and primal matter, Qi. The most evolved material form occupies infinite space, contains a countless number of changes, and has the most diverse forms of life. This is the current cosmos. It is this cosmic life that all immortal beings aim to animate. Alchemical Embryogenesis and Structural Layers of the Universe Here we can draw an analogy between alchemy and modern physics. In an energized vessel, minerals are like accelerated protons. The change measured in cyclical time is the build-up for the final reaction, just as the



the many265

circular acceleration in a particle accelerator accumulates energy for moving protons. Different stages of change during the formation of the ninecycle elixirs correspond to different stages of protons crashing into each other that reveal the structural layers of matter. Each layer of matter represents an evolutionary embodiment of change. And change is measured with time and space. Each particle contains an internal clock of evolution and an external spatial dimension. Protons and neutrons are larger in mass and size and less primordial than smaller particles such as quarks and leptons. On a larger scale, simple viruses are smaller in size and earlier in the scale of evolution than living organisms. The current universe takes the longest time to evolve and occupies the largest space. Overall, various structures of matter-form gradually come into existence during the process that materializes and internalizes time-space. This process produces various entities from small particles to large organisms, even the current universe. If we rank these entities and place them in time-space coordinates, we get a graph similar to the one presented earlier (see Figure 9.3). The structural layers of the universe and alchemical embryogenesis appear to be symmetrical, but they are really the same because the comparative idea behind them is the same. It is the internalization of timespace in matter-form structures. What the top graph shows is the transformation of matter comparable with alchemical change. And this change shares something remarkable with modern physics. First, between alchemy and physics, there exists a shared goal—to understand the world at the most fundamental level. The final formation of elixir matter, which displays a spectacular show of “five-coloured divine light,” is like the final smashing of protons at near the speed of light. Here the point is not to make the metaphor far-fetched or to argue an “alchemy as physics” thesis. Rather physics is a better analogy for alchemy than chemistry, and alchemy can help us to name the search for cosmogony in modern physics. Physics and alchemy share a similar quest to understand the One and the many of the world. According to E = mc 2, when protons are smashed together at high velocity, the released energy at the astronomical scale will tear protons apart and reveal the phenomena of change. Change is the fundamental reality. And change is closely associated with the origin of matter. Subatomic changes reveal what matter is. From the alchemical perspective, the most fundamental may be neither a form of matter physically substantial and mathematically calculable nor a numerical unity after all. It could be intrinsically dark, like Ge Hong’s Xuan, and as infinitely formless as Zhuangzi’s nothingness. The universe could have emerged out of darkness and formless-

266

comparative ontology

Fig. 9.3.  Embryogenesis of matter and the alchemic structure of the universe

ness. Within the formless dark there rests its external reality in the mode of changing formlessness into matter-form unity, namely, Qi. This ontological One keeps expanding. The primordial changeability is still present in the universe and still engaged in the making of the many. To examine the analogy of alchemy and physics closely, I shall bring in some theories of physics. As physicists predict, the current universe is made mostly of Dark Matter and Dark Energy, and the Dark Energy causes the expansion of the universe to accelerate in the first place.40 What is this



the many267

dark entity? Before the Dark energy-matter hypothesis, physicists in recent years established “the Standard Model.” According to the model, there are six leptons and six quarks that interact by means of four force-carrying particles called bosons. These particles are the basic building blocks of the universe, and the model can be visualized as in Figure 9.4. According to the model, the universe and everything in it is made up of these primary particles. The model has been highly influential in the past two decades, and its theoretical framework has led to the discovery of previously unknown particles. But a fundamental limit of this model is that gravity, one of the elementary forces, is neither included nor explained by the force-carrying particles. Another limit is the lack of explanation for the active Dark Matter that is now understood to occupy a large portion of the universe. In order to correct and improve the Standard Model, just like Einstein’s theory of gravity has done to the Newtonian law of gravity, physicists have proposed further theories, among which the supersymmetry theory has created much enthusiasm. Supersymmetry is a theory to unify matter and force, in particular ­gravity, with the other fundamental forces. It predicts that every matter particle should have a massive “shadow” or “dark” force carrier particle, and every force carrier should have a massive “shadow” or “dark” matter particle. For example, for every type of quark there may be a type of particle called a “squark.” The symmetrical “shadow” or “dark” partners are significantly large in mass comparing to their “visible” partners.41 They are collectively called superparticles. This symmetry in theoretical physics hopes to create a synthesis between particles and forces, between quantum mechanics and general relativity,42 which is an unsolved problem for the Standard Model. By conceiving a unifying energy for three basic forces (strong, weak, and electromagnetic), the supersymmetry model predicts that superparticles could exist everywhere without being detectable by current instruments.43 In high energy physics, the point of focus now is “Where are the superparticles?” It has been a realistic hope that the next generation of accelerator, such as the one in Geneva, will find them through new experiments. If superparticles could be found, the discovery would place physics in a better position to determine whether those superparticles could be candidates to explain Dark Matter in cosmology. At the same time, a new theoretical vacuum would be created to further explain the key question: does a type of superparticle—the lightest in mass and the lowest in energy— constitute the universe? If so, then could the universe have a single origin such as this? Is a superparticle God or Dao? No matter what theory comes later, supersymmetry has pointed out a

Fig. 9.4.  The Standard Model and the Supersymmetry Model: The Standard Model (top) (Original illustration from Advancing Science, Servicing Society, reprinted from http://www.daviddarling.info/encyclopedia/S/ standard_model.html [accessed June 2006]). The Supersymmetry Model (below). (Used with the permission of “The ATLAS Experiment at CERN,” reprinted from http://atlas.ch/etours_physics/etours _physics14.html [accessed April 2010])



the many269

meaningful direction in modern phenomenology.44 The Standard Model argues that nature is made up of basic particles verifiable through experiments. But the supersymmetry model makes a correction to the model: Nature at its fundamental level might be symmetrical. The partnership between particles and superparticles has a comparative similarity with the Daoist relational ontology between something and nothing. The range of concepts like Dark Matter, Dark Energy, and “shadow” particles challenge the traditional understanding of nothing, which can be traced to the Parmenidean-Platonic doctrine “nothing as not-being or non-existence,” and move closer to a relational perspective. Nothing is not an existential concept, but a primordial one related to the formation of something itself. More important, what is normally considered to be shadow reality is viewed as more real and universal. In Daoist language, nothingness is the mother of something. To further understand this relational ontology, both physics and alchemy rely on instrumental studies to reenact Nature’s making. Physicists gaze at elementary particles through the microscope of the accelerator, whereas alchemists have visualized the creative core of the universe as the materialized Dao—the elixirs. The true nature of the elixir is not the matter itself, but the relational bond with the formlessness of Dao, just like the hidden connection between particles and their shadow partners in physics. It is this bond that reveals the secrets of the creative Nature and defines the essence of change. Alchemical Model of the One and the Many Both modern physics and alchemy share a process philosophy, and the evolution of matter is inferred from the generative schema of cosmogony. The search for the universal(s) in physics seems to follow the deductive argument by reducing the world to elementary particles, like the ancient theory of four elements argued by Empedocles. But the Big Bang theory has turned the deductive argument into modern cosmogony. The radiation evidence discovered by Edwin Hubble that shows that distant galaxies are moving away from us, which later won a Nobel Prize, directly supports the theory of the exploding and expanding universe. Certainly the original explosion related to the formation of elementary particles still remains hypothetical and requires supporting evidence from high energy physics. But it has been a well-accepted view that the universe is neither stable nor in equilibrium, but expanding at a rapid rate. Change is the basic reality of the universe. Within this general framework, the deterministic worldview (as in Plato’s Timaeus) based on timeless natural laws is wrong. But the philosophical question is this. If the world is

270

comparative ontology

an open system, then what can be seen as relatively “closed”? Without the closedness, the very openness could lead to endless expansion and thus dissolution. This is the same philosophical question about difference and sameness in change. The figures above illustrate two comparable trends. One is alchemical embryogenesis. Change is represented by the trend from the formless Dao to various elixir-matters and is closely associated with transforming cycles—time. The other is the trend from superparticles in the supersymmetry to sixteen matter-force particles in the Standard Model, from proton and neutron to atom, from the smallest living entity molecule to the largest living universe. Strictly speaking, this increasing trend in physics is not evolution, but represents the structural layers of the world. So the question is how these structural layers can be viewed as evolutionary. The crucial issue is time and its effects on change. Like the alchemical form of material time, the trend from particles to the more complex entities of the sophisticated world can also been understood as a scale of time in material forms. In alchemy, this material time scale is related to the closeness to the primordial Dao. In the scale from the one-cycle elixir to the nine-cycle elixir, each one is an independent materialized Dao. These nine elixirs categorized by the soteriological effects are the hypostases of Dao but differed on the basis of their closeness to the cosmogonical One. So time has a crucial effect on the end product. And each elixir is a unique product of change containing sameness and difference in relation to the origin. Insofar as the order from one-cycle elixir to nine-cycle elixir goes, we can see the sequence by which one gives rise to the other. In OM language, each elixir is a “one and many” of the Dao in essence. But they are differentiated by change. An independent “one and many” of the Dao gives rise to another “one and many” through change. More precisely they have different internal clocks numbered by the cycles of change. This is the alchemical model of one and many. From this alchemical perspective, a hidden OM argument can be articulated from the trend represented by the structural layers. The elementary particles are not, strictly speaking, reducible elements following deductive analysis. But in the generative schema each thing in the world is the hypostasis of primary superparticles. Different layers of matter, atoms, molecules, living entities, and so on represent different relational bonds with the primaries. On the scale of time, each single one of them is an independent OM unity. Therefore, the one and many is not defined as a single universal and plural products of it, but each single one of the many is a paradoxical unity of the one and many. Elementary particles are many in relation to something more primordial, namely, superparticles. An atom is



the many271

a unity of one and many containing a nucleus and extranuclear electrons. A red cell is a unity of one and many. A human body is a unity of one and many. The universe is a unity of one and many that is called Nature. The basic universals are not transcendent from these layers of the world, but immanent in each individual system. Unlike a Platonic OVM structure, the universals form a sustainable model of the One under many envisioned by the alchemists. It is out of this system of individual one and many, which yet supports plurality, that the world is formed. What holds each OM unity together is not a superstructure of an intelligible design. Rather it is an indeterminate and evolving life still in the making. From the point of view of alchemical embryogenesis, each layer of the world from a superparticle to a universe can be seen as an alchemical egg. Each evolutionary layer of material life embodies an internal time clock and an external spatial dimension. When the increasing of the spatial dimension unfolds in time, there comes the stability of change and life. The universe possesses longevity because it has an enduring form of relational unity containing a complex plurality and a complex system of change. Compared with embryos, viruses have shorter life and simpler style of mutation. Compared with an atom, a proton has only a fraction of its existence, and its instability quickly draws energy on an atomic scale to form an atom, which is the reverse of a nuclear explosion. In the diagram called “structural layers of the universe” (the upper image in Figure 9.3), the mirror-imaged line indicates the primordiality of these structural layers. Superparticles could well be the primal matter that existed at the beginning of the universe and still participates in the making of the changing universe. In summary, these symmetrical lines demonstrate two paradoxical orders. The increasing order shows the cosmogonical change from one to many, whereas the decreasing one is the instrumental study from many to the One. These two orders are not logically opposed, but are two directions of change. Evolution is indeterminate, because it is open-ended. This evolution also leaves us with a problem mentioned before: sameness within difference. In Darwinism, there is no cosmogony. The beginning of becoming is assumed, thus open to interpretation. Perhaps the genesis of evolution was started by God or began without a causal beginning, like Daoist spontaneity. Evolution refers to an increasing sophistication through which a simpler organism becomes a complex species. Therefore, change is about potentiality. But this is only one side of the change, namely, differentiation. A model of one and many requires both continuity and discontinuity. For example, a duck egg is not so full of open-ended potential that it can naturally transform itself into a horse. There must be a paradoxical side of

272

comparative ontology

change, namely, sameness, to prevent a duck to mutate into a horse. Life is self-organizing to embody both sameness and difference, both continuity and discontinuity. The self-organizing mechanisms of nature are topics of modern biology, in particular, the study of genetics. It must be admitted that Ge Hong and his contemporaries knew little about what constitutes the continuity of change, so the balance between self-organizing and open-ended potentiality (between the continuity and the discontinuity of change) is something they were able to discuss only on a fairly abstract basis, like Qi. But alchemists like Ge Hong conceived an important idea: life in its original form is simple and intrinsically beautiful. Like the double helix in genetics, the origin of life in alchemy is also understood in a relational ontology—the double subject Xuan and Dao—articulated by the philosophy of Yin and Yang. This origin of simple life gives rise to the alchemical model of one and many. Although the OM model is not directly perceptible in Ge Hong’s texts, the comparison with modern science makes it intelligible, even inspirational to further the quest for cosmogony in modern science. Having contextualized alchemy, now we shall see how much this alchemical OM model departs from Plato’s mathematical OM model and how far modern physics has distanced itself from Plato’s idealism.

Plato’s Mathematical Universe Contrary to Ge Hong’s spiral evolution from one to many, Plato’s one over many ontology argues the linear hierarchy of the ideal/actual. This subordination evidently carries the chief motif in the creation of the world. The body of the universe came after the Soul (34c). Since the Soul animates Reason, the Demiurge also makes the irrational body ruled by the rational Soul, and the body is the visible image of the invisible Soul (31a). Although Plato calls the divine craftsman a “god”—not Zeus, the supreme god of the Greek pantheon—the whole discourse of constructing the body is basically ontological. Because of the distinction between causing Forms and caused matter, the creation of the parts of the body becomes the resemblance of Forms by the elements. The Demiurge first overcame chaos with Forms, then structured four disorganized element with Forms, and finally assembled the parts into the whole of the Soul. Although Plato’s view on the structure of matter has little originality, because the four elements and the atomistic irreducible particles had already been argued, in the narrative on making the body, Plato more specifically than in other dialogues applies the ontology to natural philosophy. Nature refers to the ideal world that determinates the



the many273

actual world and the metaphysical Forms that rule physical things through causation. Geometrical Interpretation of Empedocles’ Elements Plato argues that the body of the universe has an inbuilt geometrical structure. The argument is presented after two discourses: the physical world has only a secondary reality (28–29), and the motive for creating the body is mainly to make a unique copy of a unique perfect model (30–31). So god, when he began to put together the body of the universe, made it of fire and earth. But it is not possible to combine two things properly without a third to act as a bond to hold them together. And the best bond is . . . a continued geometrical proportion. So god placed water and air between fire and earth, and made them so far as possible proportional to one another. . . . By these means and from these four constituents the body of the universe was created to be at unity owing to the proportion. . . . The construction of the world used up the whole of each of these four elements. . . . A suitable shape for a living being that was to contain within itself all living beings would be a figure that contains all possible figures within itself. Therefore, he made it a spherical shape, with the extremes equidistant in all directions from the center, a figure that has the greatest degree of completeness and uniformity, as he judged uniformity to be incalculably superior to its opposite [plurality]. (31b–33b)

Plato has packed many ideas into this text: the four elements, geometrical continuity, a spherical universe, uniformity, and others. He clearly accepts Empedocles’ material pluralism, but he does not explain why the limited plurality of fire, air, water, and earth is more suitable than the unlimited plurality of the atomists for the starting premise. However, Plato argues a monist position in addition to pluralism, which indirectly explains his position. A close reading can reveal that the chief argument is the familiar OVM structure. The text has features distinctive of geometrical immaterialism. The Demiurge made the body as “a living being that was to contain within itself all living beings,” turned the whole into “a spherical shape,” and judged that the spherical figure “has the greatest degree of completeness and uniformity” and is “superior to its opposite,” plurality. Again the spherical universe was Empedocles’ idea. But Empedocles did not mean that the world was physically spherical, but historically cyclical (Simplicius, Commentary on the Physics, B17). Plato evidently gives a geometric twist to the original idea.

274

comparative ontology

Moreover, prior to his assertion of the spherical cosmos, Plato describes how the elements are organized. The maker began the construction of types of matter by setting fire and earth apart (31c). The separation of fire and earth defines the perimeter with two opposite ends. This is the first move to arrange the disorderly elements. The perimeter of the opposites has little to do with Empedocles’ contrary forces of Love and Strife. The forces function as the creative force of change. The former is a geometric interpretation of this older idea. It gives a geometrical structure to the elements to provide continuity for the discontinuity of the four. We shall see the full function of the fire-earth perimeter shortly. In the meantime, it is necessary to identify Plato’s intention. Greek Four Elements and Chinese Five Phases: The Issue of Interchange A short dialogue between Empedocles’ four elements and the Chinese Five Phases will reveal more about Plato’s intention. Empedocles argued that cyclical history turned the cosmic wheel in which the elements “never cease their continual change, now coming together by Love all into one, now again all being carried apart by the hatred of Strife” (B17). The “together” and “apart” of the four elements can be seen in the right side of Figure 9.5. The arrangement of the Five Phases is shown in the left side of the diagram.45 Compared with the Greek four elements, the Chinese Five

Fig. 9.5.  Interchangeable Five Phases and unchangeable elements



the many275

Phases contain an extra phase called Wood, and the phase Metal is absent in the Greek elements; the Greek element air is not found in the Chinese Phases. The diagram on the right demonstrates that the elements can change from the state of unification to the state of separation under the forces of Love and Strife. The diagram on the left demonstrates two orders among the Five Phases. The outer circle represents the ring of generation (sheng 生). Water sustains the growth of wood; Wood can be burned to generate fire; Incinerated things return to earth; Earth is the geological embryo of metal; Metal can be solubilized into water (the change from metal to water is an alchemical view, such as the view that gold can be solubilized into the Gold Liquor).

The inner pentacle describes the order of degeneration (ke 克). Water extinguishes fire; Fire melts down metal; Metal cuts wood; Wood takes nourishment from earth and impoverishes it; Earth conditions flowing water.

These two orders shape the dialectical relations among the Phases. The most striking feature of the Phases is its interchangeability. Empedocles’ elements can be mixed but not interchanged. By Love they are compressed “together” and by Strife expanded “apart.” What does the interchangeability imply for change? Wood, for example, relies on water for natural growth and takes root in earth for nourishment, thus impoverishing the soil. It can be burned to generate fire; fire returns the ash to earth and enriches the soil with the constituent minerals. The order of degeneration is “wood-earth-water-fire-wood.” Similar to a tree, the change of wood is balanced by generation and degeneration. Generation and degeneration are basically continuity and discontinuity. Daoism traditionally uses Yin and Yang to symbolize two orders. Because Yin and Yang form a relational whole, wood contains an inner balance in the likeness of the balanced cosmogonical energies. The same conjunction of continuity and discontinuity exists in each Phase. Since each Phase in the circle represents a point of correlated bal-

276

comparative ontology

ance, each one becomes relational to the others through the same balanced Yin-Yang. What the balance represents is essentially change. And change is the fundamental reality of Nature that manifests as a cosmic turning wheel, as the diagram depicts. Once the wheel starts turning, the Phases interchange through the cyclical process. There will not be more wood than the other Phases, because each one is weighed in the balance with the others by the same orders of generation and degeneration. The unceasing circle of change expresses remarkable similarity with Empedocles’ homogeneous Sphere. Love is not the only force at work to bring about change in the cosmos, but Strife also. The similarity between the two systems of change is the dual involvement of the contrary orders. Contrary to the Five Phases, however, the interchangeability among the elements is strikingly missing. Why is it important? It is the continuity that connects the elements by forming a relational bond among them. The bond is change. Love and Strife must not simply compress or expend the four. To generate plurality beyond the universals, as in the case of alchemical change among minerals, it is fundamental to establish the interchangeability among them. Empedocles knew the problem. He said: “Painters take the many-colored pigments in their hands and, harmoniously mixing them, some more some less . . . [the mixing of the four] create trees, men and women, beast, birds, and fish” (B23). The metaphor of mixing many colors seems to have explained the interchangeability. But the metaphor implies that to mix varied quantifies of the four can generate a new one, such as tree, human, and animal. To mix four requires the change that all four must pass into one another, just as four colors are mixed into one. The essence of the mixing is the creation of something new. The mixing of water and pebbles does not produce a new entity, but a situation in which the pebbles are surrounded by water. It is again a situation of attachment, not a unity of harmony. In the instance of a tree, once the four elements are mixed, they form an organic life where all four need to be woven together in harmony of unity. The metaphor has pointed in the right direction by saying “harmoniously mixing them.” But how does this passing into each other exactly happen in the painters’ mixing? Empedocles did not answer. Passing into each other means change within and upon each element. It is relatively easy to speak of the discontinuity of change. For instance, the different colors of the rainbow can be reunited into white. But what is the continuity between the seven-colored rainbow and white? This continuity principle is missing in Empedocles. Plato takes this challenge and comes up with an answer.



the many277

Geometrical Continuity Similar to the Chinese categorization in which fire symbolizes the positive heaven and earth represents the negative earth, Plato also treats fire and earth as the two extremes of the four, between which there exist air and water. By setting fire and earth apart, Plato is able to hang a conceptual string called “a continued geometrical proportion” (31d) between two poles. This geometric proportion organizes air and water, and becomes the best bond of their difference. The bond then functions as the missing continuity in the midst of discontinuity among Empedocles’ elements. Interesting here is a hidden change. The continuity is not a material substance in the likeness of the elements, but a geometrical proportion. Here Plato makes his Pythagorean advance beyond Empedocles’ pluralism. One would expect that the geometrical proportion somehow should reconcile the difference between geometrical immaterialism and the particles theory of Empedocles’ material pluralism. But Plato does not put in the effort to reconcile the difference in the overall schema of the creation of the body. Instead he still relies on the ethical model of the soul’s ruling nature over the body. Therefore, the content of the continuity is familiar. It comprises exactly the same algebraic divisions and involves the same numbers that have structured the Soul. The proportion contains the numbers (1, 3, 9, 27) and (1, 2, 4, 8) with “cube and square” characteristics (32a). Again, what do these numbers really represent? The branch of odds contains the pattern of 3 n =1, 3, 9, 27 (n = 0–3), and the branch of evens shows the order of 2 n =1, 2, 4, 8 (n = 0–3). When n = 0, both branches produce the primary number 1, which symbolizes the numerical oneness of the Soul. Here Plato has interpreted Empedocles’ Love and Strife algebraically as even and odd numbers but gives Pythagorean numbers material and spatial dimensions. The mathematical treatment of Empedocles’ materialism continues where Plato later links each element to a particular solid shape: earthcube, air-octahedron, fire-pyramid, and water-icosahedron (55d–56c). Since all solid shapes are distinct, four elements also become the building blocks for constructing the body of the universe. This hypothesis of a ­universe made up of mathematical particles in essence turns the materialism of Empedocles into Pythagorean idealism. The crucial question is whether this insertion of geometrical soul stuffs into material elements actually serves the purpose of reconciling the difference between Being and Becoming. We must keep this question in mind. The question is similar to one in modern stem cell research. The most crucial part of the development of new life is not the insertion of

278

comparative ontology

genetic information into the cell, but the embodiment of the genes within the new environment of the emptied cell. If the difference of Being and Becoming is not reconciled, then the project of constructing the body of the universe is in serious doubt. In the meantime, we shall stay with the text and examine how geometric proportion is used to explain the continuity among the four. Once the proportion has been transformed from algebraic division into solid geometry, Plato explains that the construction of the body is made possible by the determinate structure to the proportion. He claims that once the four have been put together, they produce the cosmos-dodecahedron like a ball with twelve faces stitched together—the structure first mentioned in the Phaedo (110b).46 (See Figure 9.6.) Now let us examine the claim. In solid geometry it is not possible to construct a dodecahedron by

Fig. 9.6.  Four elements–solids, cosmos-dodecahedron (Timaeus 77)



the many279

using any of the solids shown above. Therefore, the cosmos-dodecahedron cannot be constructed out of the element-solids. The change from the four to the one cosmos is impossible. Perhaps Plato knows the problem and explains that the dodecahedron is the figure closest in volume to a sphere. But Plato is not interested in a comprehensive account of geometry. If Plato follows geometry, then there is no particular reason to claim that the assembly of the four must produce an approximate sphere. There are many possibilities when the four solids are put together. And each outcome depends on factors such as the size of each one and the number of each solid involved in the mixing. To claim that the universe is spherical is not supported by a calculated argument “from the four to the one.” However, it reminds readers of a connection: the spherical universe derives from Empedocles’ homogeneous Sphere. By adopting the Sphere, Plato should first address the issue of the shape of the body, that is, to argue in the direction “from the four to the one” how the elements can produce a sphere. Instead, he presupposes the ideal sphere, which is the structure of the Soul, and goes on to find a dodecahedron as the approximate shape to the sphere. In reality, this is the OVM argument that we are familiar with from elsewhere. Plato tries to fit the elements into the idealism of the perfect sphere, but it does not fit geometrically. He continues the argument without realizing the difficulty. On the spherical body, he argues that the shape “has the greatest degree of completeness and uniformity.” Spheres are “equidistant in all directions from the center.” But again, how does the assembly of differently shaped elements produce the spherical unity? The question points out a missing premise of the OVM structure. Plato could say the sphere has the largest volume of any solid shape (including the cube, octahedron, pyramid, and icosahedron) with the same distance from the center. Thus the sphere can contain the largest number of objects with the smallest dimension. But the “enclosed volume” is a metaphor for the shape of the cosmos, similar to the image of the alchemical egg containing many minerals. So far Plato has only provided a cosmic container to carry the elements, but what the creation of the body really needs is the insertion of a mathematical principle into the elements. However, a mathematical argument must demonstrate that “the four to the one” is a real possibility. A cube is irreducible to a sphere, no matter from which direction we look at them. Unless Plato can show the interchangeability of four solids similar to alchemical changes of minerals, the geometric proportion between four and one remains as a broken discontinuity rather a claimed continuity. Nothing about interchangeability has been established.

280

comparative ontology

Being Defines Becoming, or Becoming Refines Being? Plato has an anthropomorphic theory for why the universe is spherical. “God did not think there was any purpose in providing it with hands as if it had need to grasp anything or defend itself, nor with feet or any other means of support” (33d). Without “hands,” the body of the universe cannot take nourishment from external sources. Nothing material is located outside of the body since “the construction of the world used up the whole of these four elements” (32d). The body is a self-sufficient sphere without “eating and drinking” that contains all realities within itself as a living being. Without “feet,” the body cannot move on “foot.” Among “the seven physical motions” (34a), the maker “precluded” all six locomotive motions: up/down, right/left, and forwards/backwards. Without being locomotive, the remaining motion is autorotation on an axis, just as an armillary sphere works. With the reference to “without hands and feet,” Plato hopes to establish that the body of the universe—the becoming—has the minimum change. Autorotation represents the stationary state of the universe, which is the essence of being. Compared with Parmenides’ Being without change, the universe is evidently changeable for Plato. Nevertheless, change has been minimized by the stationary autorotation. Hence on the scale between Parmenides and Heraclitus, Plato tips the balance and leans toward the Parmenidean cosmology in which nothing changes and rejects Heraclitus’ doctrine of perpetual change. The becoming body animates the being of the Soul in the most changeless status that geometry can possibly conceive. The schema of “Reason-Soul-body” is run through and through by the ontological motif of changelessness: from the eternal logos to the cause of all motions (the Soul) and all the way down to the structure of the body. Has the “without hands and feet” analogy answered the question “why is the sphere the greatest unity?” No. It has only reinforced the premise that the sphere is the enclosing unity of the elements. Compared with Ge Hong’s cosmic egg, it seems both Platonism (strictly speaking, what Plato has borrowed from Empedocles) and Daoism agree on the spherical cosmos based on astronomical phenomena of rotation. But the two differ on the scope of the universe: Plato’s universe is finite, and Ge Hong’s is infinite. For Plato, the body of the universe is finite not because it has a limited size defined by the limited radius of the sphere, but because it is created. Causation rather than relation is the ontological condition by which the universe has been enclosed as the finite and created body. To be a great unity has nothing to do with the shape of the universe,



the many281

but with its scope. For Ge Hong, it is the infinite Xuan that provides the environment for plurality to be interwoven into a whole. If Plato abandons the idealism of the spherical soul and the body, then he might find that there is an infinite layer enclosing the cosmos, a layer of the Good of its otherness similar to the Daoist Xuan. The perfection of this infinite (or transcendental) layer is not about its spherical structure, but about its indefinite depth. Of course, this Daoist reading was not the direction in which Western philosophy evolved. Influenced by Plato, Aristotle’s geocentric worldview had an unshakable impact on Western cosmology until the rise of modern astronomy. What the infinite scope really means for the one and many is that the unity of plural elements is intrinsically indeterminate. Plato is correct to imagine that the spherical world contains all elements in it and correctly has not established the determinate structure of the sphere over other geometric solids because the sphere mathematically is indeterminate over the element-solids. However, because of the determinative soul/body structure, Plato is unable to see the indeterminate unity of the Soul that by nature does not, and cannot, control every aspect of change in the world with the determinate Form of sphere. On the contrary, Ge Hong argues the cosmos is like an alchemical vessel and allows the material substances to undergo interchange based on their inner capacities to change insofar as the condition for change has been provided. What has really imprisoned the universe is the unchangeable geometric Form of the sphere. The Form minimizes change and causes the body of the world to be as close as possible to the ideal perfection of changelessness. What would happen if the Form were infinite in scope? Would infinity set the universe free? Mathematically an infinite radius will not produce an infinite sphere because an infinite dimension has no specific shape at all. The infinity of the Form will reject the ideal sphere. Without the ideal, the Demiurge cannot “turn” the world in autorotation, nor can he actualize the idea of “the greatest degree of completeness and uniformity” through it (33b). Therefore, in order to preserve the idealism, it is necessary to locate the universe in the finite norm. The subordination of finite becoming to unchanging being constitutes the relation of the body and the Soul. This subordination comes as a direct result when the OVM ontology has been applied to natural philosophy. The body of the universe also shares the same status of becoming as the human body that undergoes the process of birth, growth, aging, and dying. The finitude of the universe relates to its status of coming to be, thus implied opposite of ceasing to be. Under this physical condition, the

282

comparative ontology

Demiurge puts “the Soul in the center and diffuses it through the whole body” (34a), and hence the universe incarnates the divine logos with its finite body. To be sure, this is a remarkable turnabout from the nonparticipation principle in the doctrine of Forms. The ideal bed is eternal and thus does not participate in the actual bed subject to change and decay. Here, the Soul is “diffused through the whole body.” It is the spiritual, rational, and changeless identity to persist through material becoming. Unlike a Form, this determination remains within the body to keep it ensouled and vital. Contrary to the short-lived human body, the secret for the body of the universe to have longevity is to reduce change to the minimum—autorotation—by engaging Reason.

Change The Soul: The Cause of Change It is clear that in Plato’s mind the best way to minimize change is to be motionless. Like Empedocles’ cyclical history, autorotation has no specific beginning and ending. But unlike the constant change of the contracting Love and expanding Strife that moves the wheel of history, Plato does not realize that in order for the principle “equidistant in all directions from the center” to shape a sphere and to produce rotation, three excluded pairs of motion (up-down, right-life, and forward-backwards) must be included. Like a laser beam forming a sphere, the actual formation of the sphere involves the motions of up and down, right and left, and forward and backwards. The amount of each motion is exactly equal. We can employ analytical geometry and place each motion in x, y, and z coordinates to explain what this means. Strictly speaking, a sphere defined by a certain radius is not really a sphere, but rather an assembly of infinitely many points. Each point occupies a particular location of the three coordinates. And each point is a unique combination of “six motions” in three pairs. These infinitely many points come as a result of the principle of “equidistance from the center.” But the precondition to produce the consequence is that the principle itself must forever change. Therefore, Plato has not really excluded the six motions through intelligent design. Instead, any circular motion in three-dimensional space is primarily about the “six motions.” Furthermore, if the Soul is believed to be the self-mover of all motions, then it must not be the ultimate cause of change without selfchange. On the contrary, it changes as long as the body is alive, just as the laser must move all the time for the sphere to exist. The Soul’s constant



the many283

changing nature is the rejection of changeless Forms but the affirmation ontological change. Change: A Product of an Unchanging Principle or a Principle Itself? Plato has also failed to see the distinction between “a changeless Form that underlies changes” and “a changing principle that produces changes.” The former is based on the logic of causation, the latter on the ontology of relation. The above argument shows that each spot on a spherical surface is produced by the ever-changing principle that “equal distance from the center” rotates three-dimensionally to produce the sphere. What can be seen as changeless is only the center to anchor one point of the radius. But this changeless center is only a reference point in geometry and not a reality in astronomy. There is nowhere to locate the center point of the infinite universe. Ancient geocentric cosmology solves the problem simply by taking the earth as the center. When modern infinite-space astronomy emerged, observatory astronomy did not entirely abandon the earth center because the earth represents the anchoring point of observations. The earth is the relatively changeless center and is situated within the celestial phenomena of change of the heavens. The spherical heaven contains regular orbits (mostly nonspherical) and irregular motions. For Plato orbits represent underlying principles of motions in the second ring of the cosmic structure called Existence. But in reality, for instance, planets produce motions by being self-changing. And their relative fixture of being spherical principles is situated in the totality of cosmic change. If we put these aspects back into Plato’s three layers of cosmic structure, the order must be reversed into “Difference-Existence-Sameness.” Like Ge Hong’s alchemical egg, the outer ring of the cosmos always changes (Xuan), whereas the inner ring around the earth is relatively inert. The middle ring intermediates what is perpetually changing—the wheel of change. In Chinese astronomy, the Five Planets are named after the Five Phases. The above criticism of Plato’s idealism of the unchanging sphere tips the balance toward Heraclitus’ flux theory, contrary to Plato’s Parmenidean intention. What underlies the changeless appearance of the rotating sphere is that the principle perpetually changes. This is exactly the principle of instrumental alchemy. By creating the changing environment, the alchemical egg is constantly in gestation of new material existence, as it brings the Five Phases into the process of change. For Plato rest and motion are causational; the resting principle of the sphere defines circular motion. Alchemy reverses the order: rest is the product

284

comparative ontology

of change. Ge Hong’s “Change is the principle of Nature” shares the general view of change with Heraclitus’ flux and Empedocles’ changing elements. Within the alchemical egg, everything is subject to change, but the Five Phases remain as “resting” forms of matter within the changing environment. They pass into each other but are not lost in the process of interchange. For Ge Hong, Plato has misinterpreted Empedocles. The mixing of four “colors” does not mean that change will diminish the elements. But they are proportionally rearranged into a new “color” containing all four. Thus the elements are the true universals. Through change created by Love and Strife, the true resting nature of the four is revealed. In other words, there is no need to reinvent a new geometric continuity to explain their discontinuity. It is simply a matter of acceptance that the four is a collective form of continuity, not a geometric one over many, but the oneness is about their fourness. Motion and Rest Having gone the extra distance to discuss the changing unity of the four material elements, we must come to terms with Plato’s narrow understanding of change. Although Empedocles has not established the “passing into each other” of the elements, the creation of plurality out of the four really is meant to be the formation of various things from “the four to the one,” such as trees, humans, and animals. Comparable with the dialectic of ­Yin-Yang, the cause of change for Empedocles is concealed in the tension of Love-Strife. Similar to Heraclitus’ flux, the unity of the four is perpetually in motion. But Plato’s geometric proportion is basically about the resting cause and caused motions. Change belongs to the body of the universe and is narrowly defined as motion. In the light of alchemical change, the fundamental question is why all changes have to be explained in terms of motion—mechanical, lifeless, and self-repeating. Nothing new has been created out of circular change. To be more provocative, why should all changing phenomena in the world be caused by and reduced to this single geometrical principle? If the Soul is the determinative cause of all changes, then circular motion becomes the foundational change to which all other changes ultimately have to conform. Astronomically the regularity of circular motion leaves no room for the existence of other non-circular orbits. Comets move in oval patterns, as do most of the planets. An oval has an elliptical closed curve like an egg. And each point on the curve has an equal distance to two centers. Compared with a circle, an oval is more primary: when two centers collapse into one, it becomes a circle. Irregular shooting stars move in a



the many285

near linear pattern when they enter earth’s atmosphere. How is it possible for these motions to be reduced to the single and determinative circular motion? Or how is it possible for the circular motion to produce irregularities within its defining norm? In short, the world cannot be fit into a model of ideal perfection. Plato may argue that noncircular motions are enclosed in the regularity. The enclosure argument is heading in the right direction. But he has not shown how the regular Soul “vessel” contains irregular patterns. This is the same continuity connection between “geometric proportion” and the plurality of the elements that we have been looking for since the beginning of this study. The enclosure argument, however, could be interpreted as indeterminate. Psychologically the human soul is not always in control of emotions and appetites. It has room for itself being indeterminate. Biologically various lives on earth would be caught up in the wheel of becoming without any capacity to escape. Yet the circular motion can produce no evolution but repetition. Once change has been defined as repetition, what happens between coming to be and ceasing to be is insignificant. Life is passively caught up in the self-contradictory statue of change—being and not-being. And each moment of the circular motion is identical and shifts between coming to be and ceasing to be. Therefore, no one is unique in the self-repeating circulation. Our previous analysis shows exactly the opposite. If the principle of the sphere is to be demonstrated in three coordinates, then each moment of the circular motion is a unique spot—no other moment has the same coordinates. What is happening here? In analytical geometry, the principle has been given precise measurements and locations to map out the coherent surface that which the principle produces. Without these unique spots, the principle is not demonstrable. This is an OM argument. The argument basically reinserts change back into Plato’s causation. The argument further entails that the uniqueness of individual change cannot be swallowed by the polarized definition of coming to be and ceasing to be. From the alchemical perspective, there is a cumulative evolution in every moment of coming to be and ceasing to be. Alchemy does not only view cyclical change as the incubation environment for changing minerals (or elements), but the minerals must internalize the matrix of time-space created by external cyclical changes into the products of change—elixirs. Alchemical change does not only produce variations in degree, but the accumulation of degrees transforms the kind. Being gives rise to Becoming, and Becoming refines Being. On the contrary, individual changes in Plato’s circular motion are insignificant against the defining background of coming to be and ceasing to be. The rest/motion causation puts the

286

comparative ontology

differentiation in two worlds—being and becoming. This OVM structure diminishes the power that the cumulative change of degrees has to also transform the kind for the essence of cosmic life.

The Architecture of Matter The overview of Plato’s limited understanding of change will help us to come to terms with his version of “particle” theory. Now we return to the crucial topic of the geometrical continuity among the four elements. A second text for study contains Plato’s explicit discussion of the internal continuity of four elements. Plato argues that four elements can be reduced to two geometric Forms, and out of the two the four are constructed (53c–57d). Interestingly, the discourse on the architecture of matter is presented in the context of a creative play. The Demiurge plays a cosmic puzzle immediately after the description of primordial chaos (52d–53c). First, he has two elementary triangles in hand; second, he constructs solid shapes out the primaries; then he assigns each shape to a corresponding element; and finally he structures the body of the universe out of these building blocks. The Mingling of Empedocles’ Limited Pluralism and Atomism The creative play begins with a claim: “it is clear to everyone that fire, earth, water, and air are bodies, and all bodies are solids” (53c). The second half of the claim is acceptable with a condition. Obviously Plato has solid geometry in mind, not fluids. Solid bodies must occupy a three-dimensional space and take shapes. Liquefied things, such as water and mercury, have bodies but no solid shape. The first half of the claim is problematic. Empedocles originally thought that the elements were metaphysical stuffs and physically shapeless. He never treated the elements as physical bodies. It was the atomists who insisted that atoms are indivisible particles, and each atom was a physical body in the likeness of Parmenides’ corporeal Being but much smaller in size. Plato purposefully alters the elements into those shapes definable with solid geometry. The following sentence says, “All solids again are bounded by surfaces, and all rectilinear surfaces are composed of triangles” (53c). Again the sentence is disjointed. It is true all solids have surfaces, but not all surfaces are regular with rectilinear plane surfaces. A mountain is solid with a continuous surface, but the surface is not a regular plane reducible to triangles. Even though some peaks may appear to be triangles, they actually are more like irregular cones than triangles. Here the introductory sentences point out Plato’s intention. He



the many287

intends to introduce geometrical Forms into the discussion of elementary matter. But he has neither established why the elements are solids nor explained why they must meet the criterion to be only those regular solids reducible to triangles. Why is it necessary to turn Empedocles’ shapeless elements into regular solids? Turning Empedocles’ materialism into Pythagorean idealism has been mentioned previously, but there is another assumption. Plato assumes that the elements were preexistent in the primordial chaos but they were “shaken” inside the Receptacle as chaotic, formless, and purposeless matter (53a). He makes the distinction earlier (49d). The elements in “a process of cyclical transformation” indicate a difference in qualities, but they are not concrete enough to be called orderly substances. Again Empedocles did not believe the four elements were chaotic types of matter waiting to be transformed. Four root causes, or “four mortal gods” in Empedocles’ language, existed in the tension of the “two immortal gods” of Love and Strife.47 To be changeable is the intrinsic nature of the four. But Plato has unchangeable universals in mind. So what Empedocles regarded as changing universals are treated as chaotic types of matter. Instead of imagining that the creator is a painter who is endlessly mixing four colors into a new reality and the process of creation is indefinite as long as the creator keeps painting the picture of the world with four elements, Plato wants to have a maker insert an intelligent design for the elements once and for all. Immediately following the narrative of the chaos, the assigning of orders to the elements becomes the preparation for the maker to further structure material pluralities. Change from formless elements to four properly shaped solids marks the fundamental act of bringing order out of chaos. But before the structuring the elements, there is another material pluralism that needs to be cleared out of the way, namely, atomism. Democritus’ atomism particularly argued that all particles possessed physical shapes. If the elements are physically shaped, as atomism argued, rather than metaphysically shapeless, as Empedocles intended, then there is a problem. The problem is not Democritus’ nor Empedocles’, but Plato’s, because he wants to mingle two systems. On the one hand, since all atoms are irreducible and indivisible, and atoms are limitless in quantity, they would need to possess infinitely many physical shapes. If atomism is not cleared out of the way, how is it possible to arrange infinitely many atoms with four shapes? The problem of atomism could be solved if all atoms were identical, like Parmenides’ One. Then only one shape is required. But this solution is not what Plato has in mind, since he wants to argue for two shapes.

288

comparative ontology

On the other hand, if the elements are irreducible like atoms, then four solid shapes should not be reduced to a simpler kind. Again, this is not Plato’s intention, since he wants to reduce four shapes to two triangles. As far as Plato is concerned, the vice of atomism is its rejection of any unity. As in the Parmenides, the hypothesis of “if the one is not” has demonstrated (164b–166e), once unity has been eliminated, that the denial of unity does not yield the result that all atoms are freestanding universals. In fact, without the one, there will be no homogeneity among them. Without homogeneity, for Plato, the limitless plurality is the primordial chaos: no single one of many existed. The denial of one leads to the denial of many. To accept atomism means to leave the organization of matter entirely to chance. That would defeat the whole purpose of the creation of orders. With this background in mind, Plato is more willing to modify Empedocles’ limited four elements than the atomists’ unlimited pluralism. But he has borrowed the atomist idea of physically shaped atoms to modify Empedocles’ four root causes. Having done that, to bring the four into unity becomes manageable. Two Right Triangles As the discourse above shows, Plato has left atomists out of the divine play and reinterprets Empedocles’ changing order of Love-Strife into the “victory of Reason over Necessity.” Once the hidden arguments are recognized, the opening sentences clear the way for the geometrical interpretation of the elements that follows: “There are two basic types of triangle, each having one right angle and two acute angles; in one of them these two angles are both half right angles, being subtended by equal sides; in the other they are unequal, being subtended by unequal sides. This we postulate as the origin of fire and the other bodies” (53c–d). Among modern commentators, it is only Cornford who has come to the awareness that the continuity problem between the four elements and the plurality of created things holds the key to explaining the transformation of the world. Thus he has gone an extraordinary distance to explain a rather strange geometrical particle theory invented by Plato. According to Cornford’s study, the passage presents two right triangles as the elementary structures of matter, and their selection is determined by the choice of the regular solids for the elements.48 Here Plato’s tactic is similar to cooking a dinner: one decides what dishes to cook and then shops for the right ingredients to produce them. We can come to terms with why four element-solids need these triangles (see Figure 9.7) by summarizing Cornford’s argument, which seems to run in the opposite



the many289

direction of the “cooking” metaphor and flows from the selection of the triangles to the predetermined regular solids. This is the direction that Plato hopes readers to follow. The isosceles triangle on the left in Figure 9.7 represents what Plato means by “both half right angles” with two “equal sides.” But the one on the right has no connection to what the text infers. “Unequal sides” can refer to infinitely many right angle triangles as long as they are not equilateral or isosceles. Plato later makes reference to “a pair that composes an equilateral” (54a). Farther down in the text, he says, “Three are composed of the scalene, but the fourth alone from the isosceles” (54c). Reading this in conjunction with the assignments of shapes to elements (55d–56c), it is not difficult to work out the basic “ingredients” required for the elementsolids shown in Figure 9.6. Earth-cube alone has a square surface that requires two identical isosceles triangles to make. The isosceles triangle on the left in Figure 9.7 refers to the basic triangle for the earth-cube. Airoctahedron, fire-pyramid, and water-icosahedron are structured out of a single equilateral. An equilateral triangle can be divided symmetrically into right triangles with “unequal sides.” The diagram on the right in Figure 9.7 indicates division to produce the second elementary right triangle. These two primarily triangles are all that the element-solids require to form their surfaces. Cornford further suggests that Plato knew the Pythagorean theorem (which historically was not discovered by Pythagoras). Plato says “one isosceles and the other having a greater side whose square is three times that of the lesser” (54b). This phrase can be interpreted as the numbers (1, 1, √2; 1, √3, 2). And these numbers represent the sides AB, BC, AC, and A' B', B' C ', A' C '. They can be explained by the right triangle principle: AB 2 +BC 2 = AC 2 .

Fig. 9.7.  Mathematics of triangles

290

comparative ontology

Cornford’s suggestion is misleading. Why does Plato not make the theorem the single Form for these two right triangles? Since Plato is arguing overall for the internal continuity of “passing into each other” for the four, it would be more unifying to say that all these solids can be reduced to the theorem. The theorem alone governs the chosen right triangles, and two right triangles produce the four element-solids. The “one-two-four” schema would explain the change ruled by Reason alone, not the mixture of Love and Strife. In this way, the argument would be more consistent with his argument on outer continuity—the Form of the sphere—to enclose all matters within. However, Plato is quite clear that the right triangles are the basic “ingredients,” not the theorem. Cornford is partly right when he identifies the selection of the regular triangles as determined by the regular element-solids. Plato has selected the “dishes” and then gone backwards to find the “ingredients” determined by the selection. But Cornford is partly wrong. This line of argument suggests that the theorem is not the universal of the four. For some reason Plato does not apply it to the structuring of matter. Why does Plato stop at the triangles? The solids consist of the plane triangles. The triangles are made up of lines. And lines are numbers. It is not difficult for Plato to realize that the theorem represents the unity of numbers. If Plato reduces the solids to numbers, then he goes all the way to the Pythagorean doctrine that all things are made of numbers. Because the theorem determines that only those numbers that meet the criterion of AB 2 +BC 2 =AC 2 can be selected to construct the element-solids, the rest will be ruled out. Yet to trim the Pythagorean infinite many numbers down to limited orderly numbers will still end up with many numbers that meet the criterion of the theorem: ∞/n=∞(∞ = infinity, n= any finite number). This is the first problem of infinite plurality. Plato originally wanted to use only four elements to manage the interchangeability among them. To work with numbers, he would easily slip back into an infinite plurality, similar to atomism, which he has already rejected. Second, what is the theorem for? In Chinese astronomy, the ancient Gaitian theory also applies the principle of the gnomon 勾股定律 (3 2 + 4 2 = 5 2 ) mainly to calculate measurements of the universe. It is only a mathematical tool and is never meant to be the primary unity out of which astronomical phenomena are structured. Instead the general unity is metaphorically put as the heavenly lid turning as a stone mill. The Chinese use of the theorem is inspirational. The theorem can only be one of many mathematical principles, not a cosmogonical algebra. If Plato selects the theorem to be the elementary unity of the elements, then the selection will single out the particular. The creation of the body of the world requires



the many291

all preexistent Forms. Why does the theorem alone rest at the most fundamental level of matter and all others work on top of what the theorem has preconfigured? Having argued against Cornford’s interpretation, it is necessary to point out that the text displays confusion mainly because of Plato’s idealism over natural study. The same problem of idealism over empiricism occurs in modern physics. The standard particle model put the fundamental structure of matter into a neat mathematical description during the 1970s. The next twenty-five years’ research empirically showed the determinative structure had left many elements out of the model, one of which was gravity. In Plato’s case, the problem is the mixing of metaphors in the mystical genre. The theorem could be a mathematical Form. If the theorem was supposedly the most fundamental, then Plato would end up with an empirical difficulty. For instance, the Demiurge hopes to build a bed according to the Form of Bed. The wood in his hand is material made of some kind of combination of the four elements. But the four elements are all reducible to the single theorem. Then to structure a bed out of wood is really about subordinating the theorem to the Form. This subordination would exist in every single creature because the theorem exists in all material things. The most fundamental of matter becomes the most secondary. This is the second problem that the first becomes the last. Third, is the theorem material or immaterial? The question arises out of Plato’s mixture of geometrical immaterialism and the materialism of the elements. The transformation of the elements relies on the premise that the most elementary must be material. This is the proposition “from chaotic matters to orderly elements.” Prior to creation, four elements had already existed inside “the mother of all becoming”—the chaotic vessel of the Receptacle. They were not substantial “things” but chaotic stuffs with four “qualities” (49d). They were waiting to be transformed into order with homogeneity. It seems to be appropriate to use the theorem to arrange four chaotic qualities into substances. But to arrange them means to give structure to them. There are many right triangles that can be produced from the theorem. Eventually the Demiurge must decide on only two right triangles that meet his ideal of perfection. To have two right triangles in hand he cannot rely on the nonparticipatory principle of Form, but on the immanence of Soul in the body. This is essentially because the theorem must be “ensouled” in chaotic qualities to bring them into orderly things. Thus the immaterial theorem must take material form in order to be substances. Two right triangles become the material form of the theorem. These material “ingredients” are required for composing the element-solids, not the immaterial theorem. Here, where Plato is dealing with matter,

292

comparative ontology

he turns away from his contemporary Pythagoreans and turns toward the materialism of Empedocles. From the Two to the Four What do these two triangles really represent? They do not represent the Form of right triangle, but the most fundamental particles. As if they were two golden elixirs containing cosmogonical essence, Plato has invented them out of the mixing pot with atomist and Pythagorean ingredients. Subsequently he argues the “two to four” schema that becomes the second stage of the divine play. “So let us assume that these are two triangles from which fire and the other bodies are constructed” (54b). Having assumed the dual particles, arbitrary as they appear, Plato arrives at the central issue of material transformation. How can the transformation “passing into each other” first take place among the elements? If “passing into each other” is possible, then the dual particles can mutate through this change. Again this is a continuity issue. If the continuity goes all the way down to the two triangles, they can turn into a monist material, something like Qi out of which the Five Phases come to exist. But Plato denies the possibility of internal change between the particles. “It appeared as if all four types of body could pass into each other in the process of change; but this appearance is misleading” (54c). Then he goes on to explain: “For, of the four, three are composed of the scalene but the fourth alone from the isosceles. Hence all four cannot pass into each other on resolution. . . . This can only happen with three of them” (54c). It can be easily worked out with geometry that the surfaces of the four elements are composed of two types of right triangles. Fire-pyramid, air-octahedron, and water-icosahedron all have the same surface shape, namely, the equilateral triangle. The earth-cube alone has a square surface. Since the half of the equilateral and the isosceles are assumed to be irreducible particles, this entails that the earth made up of two isosceles triangles is the unique element. Fire, air, and water are all made up of the scalene of the half of the equilateral. Therefore, the cube-earth is unique, but the others are interchangeable. Why is earth the noninterchangeable element? There seems to be no particular reason for Plato to attribute uniqueness to earth and not to one of the interchangeable elements. If we recall Plato’s polarization of fire and earth, we get a hint of what we are dealing with. Compared with heavenly fire, the solid earth is concrete and immobile. Compared with hydrostatic air and water, earth is stable and infusible. There is a scale of physical stability of the four in the rank “earth-water-air-fire.” But the scale does not completely justify the assignments of pyramid to fire and cube to earth. To



the many293

treat the element earth as the most changeless contradicts Plato’s threelayer cosmos. The body of the earth represents the most turbulent part of material Difference, whereas the element of fire belongs to the most tranquilized heavenly ring where fixed stars locate. Alchemists view fire as the most stable element because in an alchemical vessel everything (including the most stable gold) is subject to change, whereas the fire remains the same through its changeability. From the alchemical viewpoint, Plato’s order of stability should be reversed. The earth is the most changeable and the fire relatively permanent. And the order fits well with Plato’s three-layer structure. In failing to explain why the earth is the most stable, Plato says, “It would be too long a story to give the reason, but if anyone can produce a proof that it is not so, we will welcome his achievement. So let us assume that there are two triangles from which fire and the other bodies are constructed” (54a–b). We shall take up Plato’s challenge and prove his assumption is wrong. Contrary to alchemical stability, Plato has fixed his mind on a locomotive sense of mobility and immobility. Here the usual tactic of Plato—finding the most changeless universal—shows up again. He argues that the cube is most immobile because it is made of the isosceles particle, and “the isosceles has a naturally more stable base than the scalene” (55e). This is a sound explanation, but it is false. What has gone wrong with Plato’s geometric knowledge? He has overlooked a fundamental change that occurs in the process of constructing four element-solids from two geometrical particles, which are the triangles in Figure 9.8. (see Figure 9.8). We will need to have plane geometry in mind in order to work out the change in solid geometry. In plane geometry the isosceles has a longer base (√2) than the sides (1). Plato assumes that the scalene must also be set upright, as Cornford’s commentary accepts. But if the hypotenuse of the scalene is equally treated as the base, then it has the longer base (2) than the isosceles (√2). Therefore, the scalene is more stable than the isosceles. Now, the change occurs when the Demiurge starts to play with the cosmic puzzle. If two isosceles are put together to form a square, the square is no longer standing on the longer hypotenuse (√2) but on one of the sides (1). So the cube is set on a square with four equal sides (1). When two scalenes are put together, they form an equilateral. A pyramid is made of four equilaterals. And it is set on one equilateral with three equal sides (2). In solid geometry, the pyramid is the most stable shape of all regular solids. A cube only needs to be turned 90 degrees or more to be turned to another side. A pyramid requires 120 degrees or more to be turned to another side. Thus, solid geometry disproves Plato’s assumption. The cube (earth) is not the most stable; the pyramid (fire) is. The geometric

294

comparative ontology

Fig. 9.8.  Transformation from triangles to solids

stability of fire agrees with the alchemical view that the most unchanging is fire. Plato’s judgment of stability is built on the false assumption that the isosceles triangle is more stable than the scalene triangle. Behind the assumption is the idealism of perfection. The isosceles has two equal sides with symmetrical angles whose sum becomes a right angle (45 + 45 = 90). And the square with two isosceles has the ideal shape of four equal sides (1). Similar to the heavenly ideal shape—the sphere—the material particle with the perfect shape—square—represents the earth. For Daoism this idealism is not strange. What Confucian ethics called “spherical heaven and square earth” overshadowed the Gaitian theory of astronomy with its idealism. The fundamental method was to use natural science to justify moral and political orthodoxy. Here in Plato’s assignment of the four regular solids to the elements, the ideal-driven false assumption has a real consequence in the project of creation: the earth-cube is more resistant to change than the fire-pyramid; and, between the least and the most changeable, there are the water-icosahedron and the air-octahedron in the same order of changeability. The order of stability is ranked as “earth-water-air-



the many295

fire” according to their geometric appearances. “So to sum up, the figure that has the fewest faces must be in the nature of things the most mobile as well as the sharpest and most penetrating” (56b). Is the figure with the fewest faces the most mobile? No. In solid geometry, the fire-pyramid, which has the fewest faces (4), must be the most immobile. The water-icosahedron with twenty faces must be the most mobile, because its shape is the closest to a sphere. (In the Chinese Five Phases, fire and water oppose each other in the order of degeneration.) The next most stable element is the earth-cube with six faces, and the second most unstable one is the air-octahedron with eight faces. So instead of having an “earthwater-air-fire” order, we would have the order of mobility as “fire-earth-airwater.” To be sure, the order is geometrical. It could have nothing to do with the elements. The assignment of the solids to the elements can be a random choice in reality. Has the Demiurge arranged them by chance or in order? If we have a closer look at Plato’s “earth-water-air-fire,” it is the order of physical density. The divine puzzle has a hidden rule. Perhaps this is another criterion that indicates the assignment is not a random choice. But the physical density order does not correspond to the order of solids. For instance, earth should take the icosahedron form if it is to have the most surfaces to corresponds to its density. The right assignment according to the physical density order should be “earth-icosahedron, water-octahedron, air-square, fire-pyramid.” The divine assignment has got it wrong again not because the earth-icosahedron does not have the most faces, but because it is the least stable. This again confirms the alchemical view of earth. If Plato believes that the square is the unique universal, then a Daoist would agree with the assignment of air-square. Air or Qi is the generative universal of all elements. Table 9.2 shows three arrangements of the elements with conflicting organizing principles. In the “two to the four” schema the Demiurge has committed the epistemological mistake of judging things according to physical impressions rather than a priori thought, which is intrinsically calculated knowledge. The basic mistake takes place in the false assumption that “the isosceles has a naturally more stable base than the scalene.” The assumption in itself serves the purpose of justifying Plato’s “sphere heaven and square earth” idealism. The assignment of the solids to the elements builds upon this false assumption. The original arrangement reflects the cosmological-layer order with the most stable element—earth—as the closest to the body of the earth and the most active element of fire the farthest. But the order is the other way around compared with the three-layered structure defined by the Soul: Sameness, Existence, and Difference. Then. by counting the number of

296

comparative ontology Table 9.2.  Conflicting principles in the organization of particles

Cosmological Earth- layers square

Water- Air- icosahedron octahedron

Fire-pyramid

1

Geometric stability

Fire- Earth- Air- Water- pyramid square octahedron icosahedron (4) (6) (8) (20)

2

Physical density

Earth- Water- icosahedron octahedron

3

Air-square

Fire-pyramid

surfaces, the Demiurge had another idea about the order of stability, like a player who changes the rules of the game once the game is under way. The quantification of faces in the second row does not reflect the divine arrangement in the first row. Furthermore, the physical density order in the third row is a rational explanation entirely different from the geometric stability order. But geometry and physics do not cohere. After all, the divine assignment has no order. Plato has attempted to give Empedocles’ elements geometric and traceable orders, but he has achieved a result no more intelligible than his predecessor had articulated. Could the second stage of the divine play, structuring the elementary particles, be governed by chance? Plato has claimed but not established that the earth-cube is nonchangeable. Without this anchoring base, all elements can be cyclically interchanged. Compared with the complete interchangeability in the Chinese Five Phases and the mixing and separation of Empedocles’ four elements, Plato is more interested in finding rational orders for the element-solids. He has invented two geometric irreducibles. But seeking order among the elements becomes entirely meaningless if three of the four are interchangeable. Once three start to change—the key for internal continuity—the cosmological-layer order (rest/motion), the physical density order (heavy/light), the geometric stability order (sharp/ round), and any other order become meaningless in the process of interchange. For example, even the heaviest element—water—can become the lightest—fire because they share the same geometric particle. And the change is reversible. The Process of Transformation The entire second stage of the cosmic puzzle is conditioned by the third stage of internal transformation. The central issue is what makes the inter-



the many297

change happen. In this stage, Plato sets the play in the backdrop where Necessity plays the role of an equal contributor of the transformation. When the Demiurge has brought the numbers, motions, and powers of the elements together, every detail of the construction is made to “the most exact perfection permitted by the willing consent of Necessity” (56c). Compared with the ideal world of Forms above, in which Necessity has no role, the physical realm is the territory of the goddess Necessity. Since Plato declares, “The world arrives as the mixed result of Reason and Necessity,” we should expect Plato to elaborate the role of Necessity in relation to the partner Reason and the Receptacle—the mother of all becoming—in relation with Forms. In particular, we wish to hear the story of how “the most exact perfection permitted by the willing consent of Necessity” has been implemented in material things. However, the text disappoints us. Plato does not go back to the feminine concepts. This leaves us with little to go on, apart from wondering how Necessity gives consent to transform the elements to embody divine perfection. Why is the goddess left out of the tableau? It is as if a boy and a girl are assembling a puzzle together: the girl has some crucial pieces in her hands, and the boy has persuaded her to give them to him. After the puzzle has been finished, the story of the girl has not been told. Plato believes in geometric particles as small as atoms, “far too small to be visible” (56c). Then how is it possible to form a cosmos out of these particles of atomic scale? The maker first engages in the process of dismantling the elements into their primary particles and then rearranges the particles into something else. “When earth meets fire, it will be dissolved by its sharpness and, whether dissolution takes place in fire itself or in a mass of air or water, will drift about until its parts meet, fit together, and become earth again; for they can never be transformed into another figure. But when water is broken up by fire or again by air, its parts can combine to make one of fire and two of air; and the fragments of a single particle of air can make two of fire” (56d–e). The first part of the passage explains the circular change of earth. It indicates that the “sharpness” of fire-pyramid can dissolve earth-cube into individual isosceles right triangles. Then the mass of heavier air or water will recombine the particles into earth-cube again. Plato again emphasizes that earth alone cannot pass into other elements by the nature of its unique isosceles right triangles. The second half of the passage explains the process during which water, air, and fire undergo the process of interchange. Platonic scholars have already worked out the precise nature of the process with two mathematical equations.49

298

comparative ontology

(a)  W=F+2A; 40=8+2×16 (b)  A=2F ; 16=2 ×8 (W=water, A=air, F=fire)

Equation (a) explains the calculation in terms of a base triangle particle. Water-icosahedron contains twenty sides, and each side is composed of two triangles. Therefore, it contains a total of forty triangles. The amount equals fire-pyramid (4 sides times 2 base triangles) and is twice air-octahedron (8 sides times 2 base triangles) combined. Equation (b) explains that air can be transformed by assembling two fire elements because water-octahedron has sixteen triangles, twice the triangles in fire-pyramid. Once the equations are explained, the sophisticated transformation can be explained by algebraic calculation. In the next sentence, Plato further calculates the transformation of air into water. “And when air is forcibly broken up, half of its figures will unite to make up a single figure of water.” (c) 2.5A=W; 2.5×16=40

In all dissolution processes, Plato suggests that air and water dissolve into the primary particles by the “cutting power” of fire-pyramid. The sharp angles of the pyramid cut and decompose the solids of air and water, while fire itself does not dissolve. Compared with Empedocles’ metaphor of mixing four colors, Plato has revealed mathematical exactness in his interchange. Compared with Thales, who thought of transformation as physical and meteorological changes of water’s evaporation and condensation, Plato also treats the interchange as a physical process with two phases: heating-decomposition and cooling-recomposition. Hot fire dissolves air and water. When air and water have been broken down, they can be totally consumed by fire, and become fire (57b). When fire slakes, the cooling causes the condensation to yield the heavier element of air and further liquefaction, water (57c). Contrary to material monism, Plato’s particlebased interchange has explained the physical process of the heating/cooling process mathematically. How does fire become air or water? If the shape fire-pyramid does not naturally dissolve, then it does not provide a starting point for the reverse change. On the issue of what causes fire to change, Plato introduces a large mass theory to be the opposite cause (57b). When fire is surrounded by “the predominating mass” of heavier and larger elements, air and water cause fire to cool and break down. The cooling breaks down fire into particles and recomposes them into heavier elements. The explanation is similar to the Daoist degenerating circle in which



the many299

water extinguishes fire. The softness of water does not overcome the sharpness of fire by cutting power, but by its natural capacity to break down fire. For Daoism, the degeneration circle (water-fire-wood-earth-water) is generated by the unbalance of Yin more than Yang. Again, as in the Dao­ist explanation that Yin and Yang unbalance can cause change, Plato suggests that the cooling process is caused by the unbalanced mass between the light fire and the heavier elements. Water causes fire to cool down and recombines base particles into the intermediate air or the end result of water. The transformation of air can go both directions, if fire and water are unequal in mass. It could either break down into fire by losing weight or regroup into water by gaining weight. The introduction of the “predominating mass” makes the cutting power of fire redundant. For instance, we have a situation of total balance: Fire

Air Water

10F = 5A = 2W 10×4 = 5×8 = 2×20 Obviously, balance does not mean equality, as if it there were two equal weights on two sides of a scale. It means an active balance in which fire, air, and water constantly interchange and have reached the balancing point. The balance is mainly determined by the total particles of each element, and the weight balance of each element makes the cutting power of fire secondary. As the example shows, the total amount of fire’s cutting power is counterbalanced by the total softness of water. Without taking the earthcube into consideration (a problem to be dealt with separately), the body of the world must have an equal mass of each element. Any unbalance among them will create further interchange until the active balance has been reached. This alchemical reading provokes a further question. How does the world attain this balance? We can first pursue a Platonic question. What is the cause of the bidirectional interchange of three elements? Since in Plato’s mind everything material that moves must be moved by something else (57d), the interchange must owe its cause to something other than self-governance. If the interchange is attained by self-governance, then the whole point of seeking mathematical orders among the elements becomes meaningless. The interchange could be spontaneous, and spontaneity requires no involvement of Forms. In fact, Forms could be the very products of the spontaneous process of interchange. This indeterminateness would be blasphemy to the doctrine of Forms. Yet to cause the interchange, the cause(s) must be qualified for bidirectional change. Forms can be ruled out. The Form

300

comparative ontology

of Beauty cannot cause a rose to undergo the process of becoming ugly and then becoming beautiful again. In a short reference, Plato contributes the cause to the Receptacle. “For owing to the motion of the receptacle the main bulk of each constituent collects in its own separate place, while any part of it that loses it own form and takes on another’s is drawn by the shaking to the place of the one whose form it has taken” (57c). According to Cornford, Plato has a winnower in mind when he describes the change of location of the elements.50 A winnower functions as a device to separate unlike and to collect like. Likewise, the Receptacle shakes the elements in it and sorts them out by separating the heavy and the light. Cornford’s analogy certainly helps to visualize the works of the Receptacle. But the analogy is misleading. The winnowing basket works according to the principle of gravity. It is a weight distribution device. The heavier elements of air and water get closer to the person holding the basket, whereas lighter fire naturally lands at the edge away from the person. Change in this situation is mainly about relocation. From an alchemical point of view, this is merely a physical process of placement and displacement. And it is unidirectional. Once heavy and light elements are separated, they should not be shaken back toward the opposite direction if the person shakes the winnower properly, not tipping it forwards and backwards all the time. But the chief function of the Receptacle, as Plato puts it, is to be the nurse of all becoming. Becoming includes both coming to be and ceasing to be. It is the cause required for bidirectional change. Yet in Cornford’s explanation the relocation produced by the winnower explains nothing about the bidirectional change. It sorts out water and fire by placing them at two edges and air in the middle. If we read the text carefully, Plato actually suggests the bidirectional change: “Any part of it that loses its own form and takes on another’s is drawn by the shaking to the place of the one whose form it has taken.” Having said that, Plato quickly moves beyond the sentence without dealing with the bidirectional change anymore, as if the issue has been settled. The sentence can be interpreted as, for instance, two fires break down into two times eight triangles and regroup into one air: 2F= A; 16=2 × 8. It is change in the opposite direction, from the outer edge of the winnower to the middle. Therefore, this relocation or recomposition is the consequence of the change caused by the Receptacle. However, Plato has missed a crucial point that he established earlier, or modern commentators have attributed to Plato a misleading metaphor. To start with the Receptacle cannot be the bidirectional cause. It is not a cause at all. It is a plastic material. On the one hand, the female Receptacle functions as a motherly womb containing the elements; on the other hand, its



the many301

noncausal and characterless status make it a precosmic “hot wax” to be stamped by Forms. If the Receptacle cannot be the self-governing cause of change, then Cornford’s metaphor is wrong. The vessel of the elements or the winnower does not shake by itself. It requires someone to shake it. (Or, like a crucible, it requires a reactive condition created by alchemists.) Who is holding the cosmic basket? That could be the Demiurge who plays with the puzzle of structuring the elements. But if the maker were responsible for the bidirectional change, he would become the cause of becoming. His divine intelligence is supposed to construct things according to Forms. Furthermore, as the passive plastic material, the Receptacle cannot shake the elements. Metaphorically it is not the winnower, but a womb. It is the vessel to receive the imprint of Forms when its ruling cause Necessity gives “willing consent” to Reason. Thus, Necessity must be involved in the “shaking.” Without Necessity the relocation of the elements cannot happen, nor can the interchange have an unleashing point. Why? Again Forms cannot be bidirectional causes. They can only create the unidirectional “coming to be” and not “ceasing to be.” On the contrary, the unmentioned Necessity is always the errant cause for disorderliness. What is more alarming is that Necessity cannot be solely responsible for the bidirectional interchange. It has to work together with Reason. The interchange of the elements takes place in the tension of Reason and Necessity, just as Yin and Yang hold the creative tension for the Five Phases to mutate. Once the ultimate causes have been found, the Receptacle can be seen as a vessel of transformation. By providing the environment in which bidirectional change can be nursed, it becomes the mother of all becoming, just as a crucible allows minerals to come to be and cease to be. The bidirectional change is the driving force to create new things through the ongoing process of decomposition and recomposition of matter. In Plato’s case, it is the change from the four elements to the myriad existences. To allow this change to take place, Reason cannot work alone, but Necessity has to be a major player. If the Demiurge still holds the winnower, then his wisdom is not only rationally instructed by Reason, but also spontaneously nourished by Necessity. Without Necessity, there would not be bidirectional change among the elements. Without interchangeability among the elements, there cannot be the creation of the myriad things. Subsequently, the construction of the body of the universe would not be possible. As the text has demonstrated so far, Plato has certainly put Necessity backstage in the divine play. But our investigation shows that the untamed wife of Reason is acting behind the ontological “curtain.” 51 The rational husband Reason wants to create order out of chaos by forming everything

302

comparative ontology

into perfect order running as if a heavenly clock were animating its eternality. But the untamed wife secretly and naturally gives the only child—the physical world—the genes of spontaneity to live a creative life of change.

The Creation of the Many From the Four to the Many by Unbalance If Necessity needs to be reinstated as a partner player, then how is it possible to reconstruct the final stage of the divine play? According to Plato, the Demiurge alone plays in the final stage of the play that goes from four elements to the myriad things. However, he adds a long argument, which can be summarized as follows. The disequilibrium between the elements is the chief cause for the change “from the four to the many,” and the unceasing process of interchange among the elements goes on continuously until the myriad things are formed (57d–58c). Is this disequilibrium the work of Reason or the work of Necessity? Since disequilibrium belongs to the primordial chaos (48a), in which there was only Necessity but no Reason, disequilibrium must be the works of Necessity. If Plato clearly recognized Necessity in the divine play, the final story of creation would be entirely different. However, the story maintains the motif of the work of Reason. In the central claim of the long argument, Plato states: “So we must assume that rest and equilibrium are always associated, motion and equilibrium are always disassociated” (58a). What does Plato mean by equilibrium? He does not explain, but gives notes that all elements move in a “circuit” and return to their original position (58a), as planets move on the circumference of the spherical Soul. Recall that the whole physical universe moves in a spherical motion. For Plato autorotation represents the most changeless motion. Thus, equilibrium could mean the balance of motions achieved by forming a self-repeating rotation. The rotating universe is at the equilibrium state of rest. But the explanation only explains half of the sentence about rest and equilibrium. Why are motion and equilibrium disassociated? To grasp the antithesis of change and balance, we need to switch the scene back to the interchange of elements. The chief reason for the elements to decompose and recompose is the imbalance of masses among the elements. If fire is the dominating element, then its angles will cut the others into base triangles. If water is the predominating mass, then water breaks down fire and regroups the elementary particles into air or water. Within this general background, change is due to the imbalance between the mass of fire and



the many303

of those of air and water. This inequality of masses causes the process of interchange among the four elements. Based on this argument, Plato makes a generalization that the transformation “from the four to the many” is governed by the same principle of unbalanced masses. Plato’s general idea is as if the unbalanced masses had tipped the cosmic scale, and the trend of the decomposition and recomposition process was to roll “downhill” to transform the elements into the myriad things. But the text shows nothing of how the disequilibrium functions as the continuum to make the transformation “from the four to the many.” Instead Plato concentrates on the various sizes of the basic triangles as another basic factor in forming plurality (57c–d).52 And he repeats what has been said about the distribution of the elements with the additional comment that the distribution relates to the occupation of “empty space” (58b–c). The reference to the occupation of “empty space” is probably an implicit criticism of atomism, which regards infinite space between atoms to be the continuum. Plato hopes to point out that space does not function as the continuum to bring atoms into an orderly uniformity. Overall these lines of argument have not explained the change “from the four to the many.” As I have mentioned, Daoism views that balance does not mean rest, but active motion in balance. If we use Plato’s rest-equilibrium synthesis, we can see what Daoist active balance implies. For instance, the moon is always in the motion of orbiting the earth, but its motion is basically an active balance of revolution. Likewise Plato’s spherical rotation is about active balance. Every point on the surface of the sphere is a moving point. And the sum of individual motions produces the whole sphere both in motion and at a balanced rest. Thus, balance is indeed associated with motion. The second half of Plato’s claim is false. To further explore the antithesis of motion and balance, we can ask, “Is the interchange among the four caused by disequilibrium?” Taking air as the example, the fact that air does not fully decompose into fire or recompose into water can be caused by the balanced masses of fire and water. Here air represents the Daoist point of active balance in constant interchange. There could be an equal amount of fire recomposing into air and of water decomposing into air. In this situation, the decomposition and the recomposition can go on indefinitely as long as there is a point of balance where the heat of the fire is offset by cooler water. The balance produces the result that the amount of the air’s mass is equal to the masses of fire and water at the two ends. The balance could externally appear to be at rest, but internally the interchange never ceases. Similar to a crucible in which each cycli-

304

comparative ontology

cal change represents an active balance of decomposition and recomposition, the Receptacle must also contain the active balance produced by the interchange of elements. The antithesis of motion and balance leads to another mistaken assumption. Plato believes, “Motion can never take place in conditions of uniformity” (57e). Here Plato is stuck on the being/becoming duality. In being, no change is allowed. Since motion is locomotive change, it cannot happen in being. We have already encountered the problem: in order for the Soul to produce a spherical structure for the body, it must change all the time, just as a laser beam produces a sphere. When the condition of uniformity is viewed as active balance, change constitutes every moment of the uniformity. In other words, motion always takes place in conditions of uniformity. Rainfall involves downward motion within which each drop of rain contains an active balance. Air resistance upon each single drop equals the weight of each drop. So rainfall represents actively balanced uniformity always at motion. Gravity is not the only force at work, but air resistance too. Daoist Yin-Yang symbolizes a more general balance. Day and night, positive and negative, growing and decreasing, coming and going are balanced in totality. The balance theory speaks for the equal contribution of two seemingly opposite yet related forces. There would be no air resistance without gravity that creates the state of motion. Empedocles’ Love-Strife also has the same “both-and” correlation rather than Plato’s “either/or” treatment of balance and imbalance, rest and motion. The Daoist critique leads to an important correction to Plato’s theory. The imbalance among the elements is not the cause for the transformation “from the four to the many” to take place. Rather, it is the balance that brings about all changes. The creation of the myriad things requires the Daoist active balance. Plato’s single disequilibrium force cannot produce a new material form. To form a new one requires active balance; otherwise whatever has been made will quietly change into something else. We can further demonstrate why disequilibrium will not stop internal exchange. For instance, Plato has mentioned the creation of planets (77a–c). Unfortunately, having given a speculative account of the geometric structures of the elements, Plato has never actually applied the particle theory to any concrete things. Otherwise, he might have seen the problem of the “disequilibrium” cause. Let us suppose wood possesses the following particle structures: 1. Wood = 1 earth + 12 fire + 4 air + 2 water 2. The number of individual particles: Wood = 1× 6× 2 (isosceles triangles) + 12 ×4 × 2 (scalene triangles) + 4×8× 2 + 2×20× 2



the many305 3. The masses of the three exchangeable elements: Fire=96; Air = 64; Water=80

Since earth cannot be changed into any other element, its influence on the interchange can be ruled out. Since wood possesses twelve fire, four air, and two water, according to the particle theory, the masses of the elements will be unbalanced in the order of ninety-six, sixty-four, and eighty. If disequilibrium exists among the masses, under the principle of unbalanced masses further interchange among the three must continue to ­happen to reach a balance point. The process would decrease the mass of fire (96 –16=80), increase air (64 +16 =80), and keep water (80) the same. The exchange results in a structural change in the original formula. 4. ? = 80 + 80 + 80 5. ? = 10 × 4× 2 + 5 ×8× 2 + 2 ×20 ×2 6. ? = 10 fire + 5 air + 2 water

Thus the structure of wood (6) will not be same as originally (1). It turns into something else. For the sake of argument, let us imagine another situation to see the further problem of disequilibrium. If we alter the formula by adding the total mass of water to fire, we get something similar to alchemical fire. I call it X. 7.  X = (96 + 80) + 64 8.  X = 22 fire + 4 air 9.  X = 80 + 80 + 80 10.  X = 10 fire + 5 air + 2 water

Because the formula in (8) represents a disequilibrium state, it is not sustainable until it reaches a balanced state. It would end up with the same balanced masses of (80 + 80 + 80). The altered formula (10) will be the same as (4). Here both wood and alchemical fire change their original identity into something else. In the natural world, tree and fire could belong to two distinctive causal Forms, according to Plato. But the particle theory shows that neither causal Form can remain the same. They could mutate into a new material (?= X ) (based on the supposed formulas, they will be turned into the same stuff). And the new material would be more fundamental than the irreducible Form of wood and the Form of fire. If Plato recognizes the alterable Forms according to the particle theory, then they must be

306

comparative ontology

changeable beings rather than unchanging universals. This is actually the essence of Empedocles’ elements. Consequently, the particle theory could produce a different worldview. The cause(s) for both Forms to change is (are) superior to the nonchangeability of beings. From the alchemical viewpoint, however, formula (1) could represent an internal balance (not imbalance) that constitutes what wood is. The formula itself does not alter in the material form of wood. Once wood is set on fire, the external energy will break down the internal balanced structure. Thus wood will be returned to earth as ashes. To have wood recomposed again, the generation cycle must go through the process of “fire-earth-metal-water-wood.” The regrowth of wood takes root in soil, absorbs minerals for nourishment, and sustains its growth with water. Here the alchemical change from wood back to wood is not a linear structure caused by unbalanced masses. Instead, the complete cycle of change is an active balance. The cycle keeps rolling out in the natural world. Once the wood has grown into a material form, it naturally returns to earth. Alchemical fire has just accelerated the process. Moreover, alchemy views each creature as an alchemical egg in the great cosmic egg. Wood is not defined solely by the formula of particles above (as basically chemical in nature). It is intrinsically biological. It evolves under the influence of the cosmological circle of change. For instance, a tree is different from a fish. The two are different not only because they have different beings, but because they have internalized external change occurring in the environment. A tree can survive drought as the result of adapting to a harsh environment. A fish cannot survive drought but can breathe under water. Their different beings are shaped by their living environments. As Being defines Becoming, so can Becoming reshape Being. Any single one of the myriad things is an active balance of Being and Becoming. Cosmogonical Change Is Not Physical Variation For Plato, however, Becoming can never reshape Being. There is neither internalization of time-space in the matter-form structure, nor can any interchangeability happen among the basic particles. Without the capacity for “passing into each other,” indeed the capacity of ontological change, there is an even greater difficulty for the divine project. How is the change “from the four to the many” possible under Plato’s particle theory? The short answer is that it is impossible. Plato has never demonstrated the transformation that his particle theory is designed to explain. It is as if a crowd of people have waited to see a magician perform his final demonstration and are disappointed because



the many307

the promised trick was not produced. Readers with the expectation of seeing the Demiurge finish the cosmic puzzle have not seen the divine truth revealed. Instead of demonstrating how four elements are composed into new material things, Plato briefly groups plurality into categories. Fire includes flame and glowing things that causes radiating light for people to see (58c). Air does not have characteristics, similar to atomist space. Its chief purpose is to be transparent for passing light generated by fire (58d). Water includes all liquids and fusible things (including gold) (58d–60b). Finally, earth includes all solids (60b–61c). If all solids are made of noninterchangeable earth particles, then the alchemical phenomenon of cinnabar becoming mercury should not be possible. In fact, alchemy shows earth and water are interchangeable. In the elements-kinds categorization, Plato has an unacknowledged equivocation between two different concepts. The fundamental concept of cosmogonical change, which is required to produce the myriad things, has been replaced with the notion of the physical variation of the elementary particles. Compared with the Daoist Five Phases, among which change connects them in a circle of continuous interchange, Plato’s particle theory falls short of achieving the continuity of change among the elements. As discussed earlier, solid cinnabar can become liquefied mercury, and the change is reversible. For Plato, this required change between elements has been limited by the two types of right triangles that are irreducible to each other and unalterable to become something not-being-itself. The particles, just like Platonic Forms and atomists’ particles, represent two unique beings, each of which excludes anything not-being-itself. Therefore, physical variation of the elements must conform to this basic rule implied by the nonchangeable particles. Therefore, change is not possible between two types of particles. Working with this fundamental limitation, Plato can only explain physical variations of the elements in terms of geometric grouping of the particles but cannot go beyond the discontinuity of the particles in order to seek continuity through heterogeneity. This is again the ontological paradox of continuity and discontinuity. Without the internal continuity between the elements, the external cosmogonical change cannot move from the four to the myriad things. The categories named after four elements, in fact, have explained nothing. They are merely universals in the likeness of Forms over many instances. The chief virtue of Empedocles’ plurality has been swallowed by the doctrine of Forms at the final stage of the divine play. Like an artist, Empedocles mixed four basic colors into a variety of colors to paint a picture of the world. The artist was a bit moody—Love some moments and

308

comparative ontology

Strife at other times. Nonetheless, he still produced at the end a colorful picture of the world with abstract strokes. Contrary to Empedocles’ artist, Plato’s divine maker is more like the storekeeper of a cosmic warehouse. He wants to demonstrate to people how to put together the puzzle of creation, but offers nothing finished at the end. He sorts things out into four corners with partitions for four elements among them and says to people, “These are the ingredients of the world.” The storekeeper has promised people two things: First, the particle theory has unlocked the secret of the architecture of material things. One can understand the theory in the same way as one studies geometry. Second, by following the particle theory, people shall be able to work out how to put together the puzzle of the universe themselves. If the divine maker has not completed the project that he set out to do, why should modern commentators spread so much ink on the subject and, like Cornford, try to prove that the particle theory is true? Reason and Necessity Why could the Demiurge not finish the cosmic puzzle? He does not have the ontology of change to produce the OM model that the particle theory requires to achieve the transformation from the elementary particles to the myriad things. During the construction of the world, even if he had a growing idea about what kind of change was required, he was bound by the rules of the game defined according to Forms. Having constructed the basic building blocks, the next logical step ought to be simply to apply the theory to the rest of the regular solids and demonstrate how they further shape the myriad things out of the elementary elements—more specifically how these two irreducible particles pass into each other to create the mutation that the four elements must have to cause the intermixing that further yields something structurally new. But he faces the same dilemma, naming the unchanging being. On top of this crucial limitation, the preexistent Forms are nonimmanent structures. But to construct the world, the divine maker must use Forms as immanent structures to bring building blocks into many unified wholes. If he is determined to complete the puzzle “from the four to the many,” then his empirical experience tells him that Forms must be the structures, not just the causes of the structures. The rules of the game set by the idealism of Forms are simply wrong. One option that he has is to change the rules of the game. He can be a creative player. By using Forms as structures to produce material things, he can alter the Forms from merely being the causes of material structures into the sustaining structures themselves. In this way, he turns transcen-



the many309

dental Forms into immanent substances. This creative move, similar to that of Aristotle’s doctrine of Substance, is still not enough. The next alteration has to do with the preexistent universals that create a parallel universe prior to the creation. Forms cannot be preexistent universals. Under the preexistent conditions, all he can do is to make a material copy of the transcendental world above. Becoming is predefined by Being. However, he can do more radical things than that. He can overturn the game condition of the preexistence of Forms. Instead of let Being define Becoming, following his empirical experience he might discover that Becoming can equally reshape Being. The world of Becoming is the crucible for the generation of new beings. If he could manage to take a radical step like this, then he would discover the liberty beyond Forms. Creativity is not entirely the expression of his cognitive mind, but the animation of his changing being. Once he discovers the inward connection between himself and the origin of the world, he will not act as the master builder with the intelligent design all worked out in his mind. Instead he wishes for no more than to follow the accord of Nature that brings everything from nothing into being. The orders of the universe are neither preexistent nor created by him. They spontaneously unfold out of the marriage of Reason and Necessity. They were created together with material things. Natural principles cannot exist independent of material things. Truth can only be reviewed through the understanding of the created unity of form-matter. Forms were in the making together with the formation of the body of the universe when the four elements were developing inside the cosmic womb called the Receptacle. Then the child was born as a unity of material elements with genetic influences from both Reason and Necessity. Persistent characteristics of the growing child cannot be viewed as independent beings and irreducible to each other. They must be relational parts woven together by a single life to be a living body. And the Demiurge happens to be the caretaker of the world rather than the maker of this child. His true wisdom is not to isolate himself from the changing world because of his unchangeable intelligence, but to become a part of the growing change in this child because of his freedom above the division between being and becoming. He then will let the child’s becoming reshape his being. To allow the child to change his being means to attain the openness to allow the becoming to flow into his emptied yet secure being. Moving beyond the self-isolation in the world of changeless Forms, he comes to the realization of a new life by turning himself into the cosmic play. Enlightenment arrives at the very moment of letting go of his fear of becoming. The creation of the world requires neither his intelligent design nor his

310

comparative ontology

craftsmanship. The creation is not a once-and-for-all construction, but an ongoing process. It only needs him to open himself to the world and allow the growing child to teach him the true beauty of life. Then he will discover that what actually is in the making within his very being is a process that follows its own spontaneous accord. He cannot reject the way he is. He should not pretend to live a life in which he rides a divine chariot and manages to rule his wild passion with a rational mind. He can ride the rhythm of the cosmos in a process always changing but always the same. Instead of looking into the heavens, when he aligns himself with the cosmic process, he will open his eyes and pay attention to the creativity of the world in small and simple details. By knowing the world of change, he then can reenact changes and discover the hidden path from the many to the One. Then he can become a true co-creator of the world—an immortal player. The Demiurge may find this approach too radical to accept. Instead of allowing becoming to reshaping his being, he may retreat to familiar ground. He can employ the intermediating Soul to carry out the immanent work to rule matter with Forms. In this situation, the Soul gets its hands dirty and implements the causing Forms into the elements by becoming the structures itself. The Soul becomes many souls, as many as the plurality of living beings require. This path will lead to a future life filled with pain and suffering. Just as a human soul struggles to rule irrational desires and passions with rational thoughts, the Soul would act on the behalf of Reason to ride the cosmic chariot on endless waves stirred by Necessity. He would see himself as the one to protect the world from falling into anomie. But still, to control Necessity is not simple task. Since the very beginning of the world, the goddess was there. The whole project of creation did not fully contain her wild passions. To assign the job of ruling this errant cause to the Soul, the Soul must be in constant pain. Why? It is simply because he would struggle to rule his mother. And his mother still lives in his worldly passions. If the Soul is to be embodied in the body of the world, the child must incarnate both Reason and Necessity. The Soul would push the boundary of his obedience to the commandments laid down by the doctrine of Forms. The Forms must incarnate wisdom by taking material elements upon themselves so the radiating truth of Reason could shine through well-ordered material characters. This incarnation of unchanging Forms in and through the changing elements essentially is the “married life” of Reason and Necessity. It crosses the boundary between being and becoming. In fact, being has become becoming, so becoming may act like being. However, even if the Soul wishes to exercise his creativity to make the



the many311

incarnation possible, the fatherly Reason could intervene and stop the Soul’s brave activity in order to protect his orthodoxy about Forms. After all, the world is created, thus mortal. Yet Forms are immortal. If the Soul is allowed to be creative, there is too great a danger of letting the child run free. Fallen immortals have always been given the punishment of living mortal lives. They are subject to decay, suffering, and death. Yet the Soul is created in the image of the fatherly Reason, and therefore its immortality must be defended at all cost. If the Demiurge maintains Reason’s orthodoxy, he can preserve the crown idealism of the tradition. But he will return to the same dilemma with which his trouble begins and witness the misery of the divine child. The immortal Soul is always homeless in the passionate body. The longer he sees the suffering of the child, the more deeply he understands two contradictory prophecies. Parmenides once said: Being and Becoming are predestined to be in the state of separation. If Parmenides was right, Reason and Necessity should never get married. Yet the Pythagorean theology predicted the incarnation of the Soul. The marriage of Reason and Necessity was bound to happen. The Demiurge is caught in between these two prophecies. As the project of creation has gone this far, he knows for a fact now that the universe is the mixed result of Reason and Necessity. The Pythagorean theology was right. Yet his Parmenidean mind tries to resist the force that the incarnation brings. Incarnation by definition is the full realization of Being in Becoming. Parmenidean Being must be incarnated into Heraclitus’ Becoming; Forms must be mixed with Empedocles’ elements. Since the divine child has already been born, and named the Soul with the body of the world, it is the time for the divine player to relearn his wisdom based on this fact. The new life has the freedom to embrace the omen of the future. And the freedom is more precious than the ancient dispute on being.

Summary This chapter has covered four major topics: (1) Ge Hong’s instrumental alchemy, (2) a critique of the “alchemy as chemistry” thesis and a comparison with physics, (3) Plato’s mathematical structures of the elements, and (4) the unreconciled Parmenidean Being and Pythagorean Soul. The sections above contain complex and unfamiliar content because neither Daoists nor Platonists would normally venture into the textual tradition of the other. However the one and many question has brought them together and placed them on the same philosophical table. This is done through the investigation of two overlapping issues: how two distinctive forms of

312

comparative ontology

ontology shape two very different forms of natural philosophy and how different ontologies also give rise to different epistemologies. Alchemy engages the world with the empirical method and operates in the tradition of instrumentalism. Plato’s idealism applies Pythagorean mathematics to Empedocles’ material elements and formulates the natural philosophy that the material world is explained by immaterial ideas. The study of alchemy begins with textual analysis and demonstrates what has been produced by the alchemy as chemistry thesis in Daoist studies. However, the protochemistry label has limited and reduced alchemy to the small body of knowledge rationally explainable by chemical formulas. In alchemy, the synthesis of change and life, which inorganic chemistry proves to be a fatal antithesis, actually becomes the very foundation of modern biochemistry. On the scale of Darwinian evolution, change is the essence of life, and life is the product of change. Moreover, alchemy cannot be demythologized as a religious means of seeking immortality. As the comparison with physics has demonstrated, instrumental alchemy is basically instrumental cosmogony, a search for the origin of the universe through empirical means. The subject matter, the cosmogonical one and many is also at the heart of modern physics. The concept of material time in the formation of elixirs can also be explained through comparison with the structural layers of matter from small particles to large organisms to the living universe. The underlying argument, therefore, is OM in kind. Being does not only give rise to Becoming, but Becoming also redefines Being. The comparison leads to a critical reading of Plato’s mathematical model of the universe. That section takes a long path to investigate the internal coherence of Plato’s particle theory of the elements. It focuses on the key issue of interchangeability of the element-solids, and disproves the claim that the myriad things are made of two irreducible triangle particles. The section basically is a calculated rejection of Platonic scholarship that turns a mystical genre to rational science. The criticism of Plato’s natural philosophy also reveals a major source of inconsistency in Plato’s ontology: the transcendental Forms inherited from Parmenides’ Being and the doctrine of the souls traceable to the historical Pythagoras. The Pythagorean idea of the incarnated soul has not helped Plato to realize that truths must be embodied in mundane life. What has preoccupied Plato’s thought is the immaterialism developed by the contemporary Pythagorean School. The immaterial nature of mathematical truths fits well with the transmigration of souls. Idealism has blinded him to what Pythagorean theology implies. It is the marriage of Reason and Necessity in the Timaeus, not the Parmenidean division of



the many313

Being and Becoming in the Republic. Consequently, there is an unsolved tension of being and not-being that is projected onto natural studies. The tension was already present in Plato’s earlier dialogues. He depicts the only authentic soul to be the one like the philosopher-king in the Republic. He escapes the imprisonment of the dark cave and emerges into the enlightened state where Forms and his soul meet face to face for the first time. After the enlightenment, the philosopher returns to the cave to save his fellow citizens. But he is not truly happy since the mountaintop experience. He can help others to break free from the imprisonment of ignorance, but he cannot keep his enlightened soul from being imprisoned in his mortal body. His mind will never be happy until it can find true rest in eternal Reason. By telling the story of the soul’s journey after death at the end of Republic, Plato has envisioned the chief reward that philosophers can gain, namely, the immortality of the soul. Socrates knew this affliction all too well. Before he took charge of his death, he reflected deeply on his life. Then, in front of his pupils, he drank the cup of death, as in the Phaedo, while he anticipated the homecoming of his soul to the world Soul. He labored hard in his life to achieve the virtue in which his body was ruled by Reason. But the incarnation of Reason in his bodily existence was always accompanied by the shadow of infinite sadness. At last he was free. Behind the Socratic tragedy one can recall another tale told by Plato in the Timaeus. The primordial marriage of Reason and Necessity was supposed to be a celebration between being and becoming. But as it unfolded it proved to be a painful life for both. Necessity was always suppressed, while Reason strove to bring up their only child—the created world— alone under strict order. The child was taught to be rational and orderly to animate the father’s eternality. But in his dreams the child ran back to his mother to seek answers for his irrationality and deep passion for change. Although he was never able to reconcile Reason and Necessity in his very existence, he gradually discovered the power of the inhered antithesis. Whoever rejects the changing world—his very soul and body—by which he or she shall be rejected.

Conclusion Comparative Methodology

I mentioned in the introduction that I would not treat methodology as a precondition of this comparative study, but as a conclusion of it. Now, at the end of this study, I still maintain the proposition, but something has changed. The becoming has reshaped the being.

Comparing Is Contrasting, and Contrasting Is Comparing First, the method of comparing and contrasting is conditioned by two sets of texts. Hence it is not a “scientific” principle universally applicable to every situation. Instead of accepting methodology as another Platonic “one over many” structure that caps all intertraditional engagements, the act of comparing and contrasting is a “one under many” discourse. The “one” refers to open-ended discourse. The “many” designates the nature of pluralism in comparative studies. Although the exercise of comparing and contrasting works interchangeably throughout this book, the discourse of the comparative study has two phases. It begins with the phase of contrasting and arrives at a deep respect for the irreducible differences between traditions. Then it follows the phase of comparison that involves comparing the contrasts. Unlike the method frequently used in natural and social sciences, which first presents a hypothetical methodology and then either proves its validity or critically evaluates its weakness at the end of a study, the comparative method is a process. It was conceived at the time of topic selection, evolved from the primary core of the ontological interest, changed spontaneously through the translation and commentary studies, and was infused with critical insights and comparative synthesis. When the method was conceived, it was marked with two chief characteristics: comparative pluralism rather than universal principles and a process of evolution rather than a premise subject to evaluation. 315

316

conclusion

The second main feature of the method is the unusual starting point. Comparison does not have to start from categorical similarities; knowing the contrary provides a beginning for comparison. We must not assume the existence of a metaphysical chair against which Platonic chairs and Daoist chairs can then be meaningfully compared. On the contrary, alchemy and geometry can be compared as long as they are understood within the contexts of Ge Hong’s cosmogony and Plato’s theogony. On the acceptance of difference, we can recognize the shared quest to name the origin of the world. In classical studies, it would be too arrogant to invent a methodology predefined by modern perception so that the past can be understood by the present. Any historical study must relearn the lesson of letting history speak to us. In searching for the ultimate concern—what the world consists of or derives from—history shaped two intellectual traditions; now with humility toward the ancient wisdom, a comparative thinker can bring the traditions together by reengaging the one and many discourse. The current study, therefore, is a continuation of this one and many debate. Comparing and contrasting are two forces, just like Yin and Yang, and together they shape the dialogical process. Since it is a discourse, strictly speaking the method is neither monism nor pluralism. Rather it is a process of both one and many. In this regard, the method embeds a critique of postmodernism. The god of modernism demands the universalism of “one over many,” and the goddesses of postmodernism celebrate the “many without one.” Certainly postmodernism has abandoned the assumption that all philosophies could converge on the same metaphysical mountaintop, an assumption that entails the universalism of reason underlying all activities in natural sciences and even liberal arts. Nevertheless, postmodernist pluralism is not a problem-free paradigm. The willing acceptance of “many without one” assumes that no unity is required in the pluralistic world. We should take a warning from Plato’s Parmenides that the denial of the one will lead to the denial of the many too. The many without the One is the primordial chaos. For Daoism, the world overall cannot be seen as a place of endless fragments. Endless pluralism is also relativism. Postmodernist pluralism recalls the ontological individualism argued by ancient atomists. Atomism rejects unity and endorses infinite plurality, thus leaving the relationship among the many entirely meaningless. However, the underlying assumption of such pluralism is that no dialogue should be necessary as long as individual traditions have their own right and space to evolve independently without any need to be interwoven into a living whole. The space between the many, just like the empty space between atoms, is ontologically meaningless. The ancient material plural-



conclusion317

ism, or the modern notion of multiculturalism, cannot create an abiding unity of the many. They can only form a sort of togetherness. But this is a false unity in which interchange among the many is neither necessary nor possible. Postmodernism praises such ontological individualism, yet its pluralism mutates into relativism. Like a rebellious child of the rational father, postmodernist pluralism is merely a reaction against, rather than a correction to, modernist universalism. From “one over many” to the postmodernist “many without one,” the underlying principle is negation. The contemporary study of religious Daoism has not yet completely removed the lingering shadow of modernist rationalism but quickly finds itself slipping into postmodernist relativism. Some scholars seem happy to be in this position without realizing two hidden dangers. The first is that it is a powerless position to be in. Relativism makes Daoism insignificant in the large and crowded intellectual pool that has traditionally been dominated by rational players. The second is loss of confidence. Daoism actually has an answer to relativism—that is, to turn the external space inward. The ocean is the greatest, according to Laozi, because it takes the lowest positioning. By drawing all forms of living into its emptiness, the ocean does not act, but nothing is left undone. By creating the space for others to be, life evolves out of this self-humbling space. And this ocean must exist in everyone’s being. The embodied “ocean” will create a relational space for others to be, thus transforming ontological individualism into the ocean of openness in which the evolution of life is sustained by relational ontology. The comparative method wants to break down the lifeless space between traditions, in this case, the space between religious Daoism and Platonic rational philosophy. To engage Plato, the primary task is to reinsert the relational space into the self-subsistent Forms, in which there is only being, a kind of being that rejects anything that is not-being of the same kind. The second part of this book makes a single argument: that the one and many problem cannot be solved by Platonic beings, but Ge Hong’s cosmogonical one and many is an answer to the ontological problem. The argument empowers Daoism to take a position of initiative, to be confident enough to voice criticism of Plato. Moreover, against the modern projection of searching for the roots of chemistry, the dialogue between alchemy and physics exposes the limits of chemistry, while at the same time creating a platform for Ge Hong’s alchemical empiricism to conduct a dialogue with Plato’s geometric idealism in the overall schema of cosmogony in which modern physics also seeks the origin of matter through instrumental means. Reading Plato through Ge Hong is not undertaken for the sake of criticism as such, but Daoism is introduced through the dialogue with

318

conclusion

Plato. Perhaps this book has created a protected and secure environment to introduce Daoism on the international stage. Nonetheless, any engagement is relational and thus bidirectional. A critical reading of Plato presents tremendous challenges for a comparative thinker, like myself, to understand Plato by revealing logical arguments hidden in the dramatized dialogues and to demonstrate the level of complicity in Plato’s thought, which is foreign to Daoists. In reality, the critical reading of Plato offers no protection to Ge Hong at all. The dialogue actually increases the level of difficulty by not only inviting Daoists to read Plato’s dialogues in their original context, but also to gain insights from modern analytic philosophy. The process of comparing and contrasting equally challenges Daoist thinkers to learn from Platonism and learn the language of reason in order to understand the other. Whoever interprets Zhuangzi will also be interpreted by him. This is the paradoxical saying Daoists must always remember. Every step of translating and interpreting Daoist texts requires a comparative scholar to give expression to Daoism beyond its abstruse appearance and to allow Daoists to be challenged by the charity and the coherence of Platonic reasoning. The end result is the creation of the inner space that is also required for Daoists to appreciate Plato and his tradition.

Rediscovering the Existential Ground Is an ideal objectivity possible in comparative study? Comparative study requires one to travel constantly between traditions. In the early stage of my research, the ideal objectivity in modern science imposed on me a demand to be both Daoist and Platonist at the same time. The feeling of being caught in between caused an existential crisis. “Who am I?” “Where do I stand?” “What do I hope to achieve in the between?” Then I realized a simple fact—I cannot be both. Daoists and Platonists do not come to natural acceptance of each other. Yet through the dialogue, I somehow became the only connection between Plato and Ge Hong. The ideal objectivity, therefore, needs to be rethought under this newly discovered relational proposition. I cannot simple engage the subject matter and treat it as something external to myself, which then can be brought under the scrutiny of objectivism. I cannot do it because the subject matter is something fundamentally about myself. Somehow the objectivity must be challenged by an existential quest for reconciliation. In the course of five years, I took various field trips to visit Daoist temples and institutions in China, in particular to trace Ge Hong’s intellectual journey, which has been preserved by three Daoist temples. Philosophers



conclusion319

usually stay in academies and chew books. But the field trips took me to see places where history is still in the making. To answer the existential questions, I needed to rediscover my cultural home within which I am accepted. When I was surrounded by morning mist, listening to the falling rain, breathing in the fresh air, and drinking spring tea with the female master of the monastic order, a renowned artist in residence, and a Daoist scholar, I came to realize what the surrounding mountains have done to them culturally and what the geographical location could equally do to me. I came to accept where I was. The journey had taken me outside of the familiar “self” to unvisited places, to understand as well as to be understood by the “other.” The journey of going outside the “self ” is paradoxically the journey to rediscover the inner “self.” This is exactly what Ge Hong’s cultivation method had predicted. When the finite self is emptied into the infinite Nature, the Real-One begins to emerge. Unlike the Platonic dialectician who gazed at the heavenly sun when he attained enlightenment at the intellectual mountaintop, I looked downwards from the peak of Mountain Qingcheng to search for the gate where I had entered the temple. There, gazing at the world below, I discovered the fact that Nature is inward connectedness. I did not achieve the enlightenment of otherworldly truths, but the ascending and descending routes at different sides of the mountain were a journey of self-discovery about my intellectual and cultural home. More than a cognitive exercise, comparative philosophy involves this empirical journey—to understand the self through the other. The shifting of geographical location, the fact of standing in the temple, and the act of following the liturgical life of the monks all produced insights. As I went, I discovered that the existential crisis could be turned into a creative tension. Until I have reconciled with myself, I am not ready to reconcile the tensions of history.

Creative Hermeneutics and Textual Criticism Like alchemical cyclic transformation, comparative philosophy is an intellectual crucible constantly in the making. No matter how sophisticated the philosophy may turn out to be at the end, the cyclic transformation always starts with the primary texts, then moves through textual and contextual studies, and finally arrives at the point of comparative insights. This is a hermeneutical circle rather than a linear teleology. Like the method of comparing and contrasting that is conditioned by the texts, again there is no single hermeneutics that can be applied to both Platonic dialogues and Ge Hong’s poetic genre. Like the forces of Love and Strife in Empedocles’

320

conclusion

composition and decomposition of the four elements, the hermeneutical circle also has two forces at work. Trained in Western scholasticism, I am more familiar with the critical method that is traceable to Aristotle’s critique of Plato and even earlier among the pre-Socratics. As I go back to the Chinese tradition, I realize something different. Intellectual training gives a strong emphasis to a master-disciple relationship. Contrary to the Western tradition of critical negation, Daoism represents a Chinese style of interpretive affirmation. Ge Hong’s family lineage is one of many telling types of evidence. After some years of involvement in politics as a Confucian scholar, Ge Hong returned to his family roots; subsequently he was chosen by his master Zheng Yin to be the heir to the tradition. Ge Hong was not a critic of his master, but a creative interpreter. He established his credentials by his affirmative reinterpretation of the past rather than negation of the past. This kind of intellectual succession has become a pattern throughout the history of Daoism. The Daoist Canon, in fact, exhibits this tendency by collecting commentarial writings of later times that have reinterpreted the earlier scriptures; in so doing they take a legitimate place in the genealogy of Daoism. The hermeneutical process is intrinsically creative. Like the Dao that unfolds itself into Nature, the process of creative hermeneutics 創造性注 釋學 involves the principles of affirmation and reinterpretation. Following these principles, Ge Hong’s originality is affirmed while his texts are reinterpreted with creative insights to give the past new meanings. To affirm Ge Hong’s originality, the hermeneutics places Ge Hong within the lineage to which he belonged and the contemporary debates in which he was involved. The affirmation is basically the issue of historical faithfulness in classical studies. To reinterpret Ge Hong’s religious philosophy, the hermeneutics places his thoughts in the crucible of comparative philosophy. Thus comparative insights become new “alchemical fires” at work to regulate changes in the process of reinterpretation. The new is nonetheless the recomposition of the old. Creative hermeneutics involves both textual and contextual studies. These two submethods are often used interchangeably in this comparative study. Introducing a Daoist concept for comparison often involves a step back before taking steps forward, to carefully read and grasp the original connotation in order to rediscover another layer of denotation unrealized previously. Unlike the descriptive nature of English, classical Chinese is far more elastic and symbolic, thus inviting readers to imagine and capture new meanings that overflow from the fountain of poetic language. Moreover, the dialogue with Plato adds a new dimension to the exercise of



conclusion321

reinterpretation. Frequently Plato’s explicit thinking challenges creative hermeneutics to clarify deep philosophical issues never imagined by Ge Hong. In fact, the dialogue provides a new language of reason for Daoists scholars today to communicate Daoist riches with the world. Therefore, the hermeneutics is a positive force in the making of comparative philosophy. Moving from the past to the present, it has changed the historical location of Daoism from being interpreted by others to being an interpreter of the other. Western philosophy evolves out of a history that consists of major criticisms of the past, which produce landmark corrections of the past. Plato argued against the pre-Socratics, and then Aristotle turned against Plato. More recently Marx learned from Hegel yet became the thinker the most critical of the master. Reading Plato from a Daoist perspective follows this tradition of critical hermeneutics 批判性注釋學. Even though the study of Plato mainly takes the form of criticism, it does not follow that critical hermeneutics is unattractive to Daoists. On the very contrary, criticism is a form of engagement. Otherwise there is no point in having an in-depth engagement. In fact, the hermeneutics requires a high level of commitment from both parties. It calls on Daoists not to run away from Plato and not to turn away from the challenges brought by Platonic scholarship, but to stay the course of the dialogue to make it worthwhile. To learn the art of criticism equally requires Daoists to listen carefully to what Plato has to say and read the texts. The hermeneutics, therefore, involves textual and contextual studies. Contextual and critical insights can only arrive after a diligent reading of the original texts. When Daoist scholars become involved in textual study, they shall realize a striking similarity to their own canonical studies. Textual study is a form of discipleship. Aristotle was a follower at Plato’s Academy before he turned away from Platonism. Likewise, critical hermeneutics requires a long discourse of engagement with Plato before creating a critique with penetrating depth. Historically, Platonism has endured a love-hate relationship with Christian theology for nearly two thousand years. Neither Christian theology nor Platonism is swallowed up by the other. For nervous Platonic gatekeepers, the historical lesson is still of value here. Platonism will not and should not be devalued in the dialogue with Daoism. The hermeneutics is the second force in the intellectual crucible of comparative philosophy. Like alchemical fire constantly turning whatever is unsustainable into ashes yet refining what is life-giving out of the earth, the very reason that Plato has attained its crowning status in Western philosophy is not because of its separation from change, but because of its capacity to be creatively inter-

322

conclusion

preted by the history of change. The dialogue has tabled a crucial criticism at the heart of Western ontology. It also has offered a Daoist answer. The criticism now invites a Platonic response. If Platonists take up the challenge, they must also learn the language of Daoism and read Ge Hong for what he is. Then they would realize that, without the dialogue with Plato, Ge Hong’s philosophy would not be as readily recognizable in the rhapsodical genre; without the comparative connections, one would easily become lost in the historicity of Daoist traditions. Moreover, the philosophical language adopted for the dialogue is far closer to Plato’s than to Ge Hong’s. Indeed, it has made the religion’s tradition more accessible to modern philosophical minds. After all, the comparative method has opened an intellectual door not just to understand the other, but also to understand the self through the other. Who would step across the line between the self and the other?

A Bridge between Cultures Historically, Plato and Ge Hong never met, but the dialogue has brought them together. If Daoism should be modernized, as is currently argued by the school of New Daoism 新道學, Daoist scholarship should neither isolate itself within the protective walls of antiquity, which are still guarded by the method of historical-textual analysis, nor sacrifice its originality for scientific rationalism. The comparative method has demonstrated a Daoist apologetics in the world of pluralism. The strategy is not one of passive defense, but of active engagement. By moving out of the self into the world of many, Daoism can truly rediscover, and be empowered by, what it stands for in the course of history. But to reunderstand oneself through dialogue requires the elementary step of seeking understanding about the dialogue partner. Unfortunately, basic training in Western thought is commonly lacking among Daoist scholars in China. The rise of New Confucianism 新儒学 in the West has already ­testified to a successful experience. Three generations of Confucian scholars went to the West and learned from the West to accommodate science and democracy. They then actively taught Confucianism in various institutions, making the argument that the West shall learn from China and from Confucianism in particular. To learn from this lesson of active engagement, the modernization of Daoism is neither a simple matter of learning natural science nor a collective effort to carve an intellectual property in a Confucian society. It needs to be an outward journey of self-rediscovery. This study has taken the outward journey and thus discovered that religious Daoism is capable of engaging with rational philosophy and that it



conclusion323

already contains the synthesis to close the gap between natural and moral philosophers. Instead of seeking approval by the other, the core value of the comparative method is to offer a path of reconciliation. As mentioned before, the reconciliation starts with the self. My journey began with the exercise of comparing and contrasting and then turned this simple method into a relational discourse. As I go back and forth between comparing ideas and contrasting premises, I come to discover that the tension between two philosophies has a radical opening. Unless I stand there, they have nothing in common. Once this was a polarizing tension defined by the logic of opposition and causing an identity crisis; now it has become a creative tension linked by relational ontology. By standing in the radical opening, by holding the tension of the two, I become a bridge over the cultural gulf. This is the same existential position in which I once stood. But now I have changed. I can participate in a dialogue with two great minds. Philosophers can live in different parts of history and belong to different cultures and linguistic traditions. But they live in the same world, and they have some shared concerns about the world. This is where a comparative thinker really stands—on the same earth under the same heaven. I am standing in the middle of the radical opening between heaven and the earth. The cosmos is constantly inviting seeking minds to participate in its wholeness; even in a confirmed existential location, as long as I am open to the world, I am able find the oneness of the world at the present moment. The realization of this simple truth is indeed liberating. It marks a complete circle in my intellectual journey. Starting from a long and unmapped journey to the West through theological landscapes, I then returned to the cultural home, taking the philosophical route in the journey to the East. Ge Hong systematized religious Daoism and wrote the trilogy on the doctrine of Xuan Dao, the doctrine of the Golden Elixir, and the doctrine of Immortals. Plato founded the Academy and created the categories of ontology, natural philosophy, and ethics. I have brought them together through the categories of the heavens, the earth, and humanity. I am standing at the place where philosophers are the inductions between heaven and earth. Apart from making an academic contribution, I believe that intellectual adventure is intrinsically autobiographical. Therefore it has a life of its own. The wisdom that a person can attain from a book is limited in scope, but the dialogical method can unleash the thought yet to evolve into a fuller life. If one seeks to reconcile the many with a single unifying theory, one becomes a monist philosopher, increasingly isolated in the pluralistic world. If one transforms oneself into a bidirectional bridge to shorten the

324

conclusion

traveling distance between traditions, then one becomes a pluralist with openness toward other traditions. Comparative thinkers are bridge builders. Once intercultural bridges have been constructed, people on both sides of the bridges find unprecedented freedom to go across to the intellectual other shore, where they discover the simple truth that humans are basically relational beings. On their way home, they shall realize that the journey is fundamentally not about the other, but about the relearning of the self through the other. One empties the self into the many so our inner many may become one. It is this outward and returning journey—enabled by the bidirectional bridge—that sets people free. In the future, when more people have traveled to the other shore, many Daoists may arrive at the gate of Plato’s Academy. Many will have come previously to seek education. Now they will have returned as messengers. Some messages may come as appreciations, while others may take the form of criticism. But the underlying message is the same, namely, further dialogue. If Platonist guardians can look beyond their pride, they will realize that something has profoundly changed. Once they trained the world to speak the same rational language, and they have succeeded. Now those who arrive at the doorstep all can speak the language, yet the people inside the scholastic castle have never felt the need to learn another language. The outsider can understand the insider, but the insider is not in the position to understand the outsider. The reality is easy to explain but too painful to accept. Plato once defined philosophy as the love of all wisdom, but the guardians somehow have fostered progeny within the confined walls of homogeneity. They have offered protection but lost freedom. However, if the guardians had happened to pass on the invitation to the founder of the school, Plato would well have had the intellectual virtue to entertain the criticism in the breadth of his enlightened mind. Even at an advanced age, he would have been happy to accept the invitation and leave his Academy for a journey to the East. Then, when he arrived at Mount Luofu, he would see the Master Embracing Simplicity standing at the gate waiting for him. When friends come from a far distance, how can one not be happy? He has come to welcome the honorable guest to accompany him on the journey to the temple. Two great minds immediately engage with each other. The conversation leads to the acceptance of what has already been said in their books. Plato still maintains his ontology divided in degrees, whereas Ge Hong repeats the discourse of life from the one to the many. When they meet face to face, they find that to hear the speech of the other directly is a real pleasure and the conversation in the present, not the repeating of thoughts written in the part, truly inspirational. As they arrive at the temple on the mountaintop something begins



conclusion325

to change. While Plato is explaining how the sun, the source of light for everything to be seen, had enlightened the ascending path that they have just taken, he looks into the heavens. At that very moment he discovers that the sun is too bright to gaze directly into its brilliance. The intense light actually makes him temporarily blind. When he has recovered his sight, he sees Ge Hong pointing below with his right hand. Indicating the land under the sun, he notes the beauty of the sun; the myriad things have made the goodness of the sun visible. Walking toward the crucible standing in the courtyard, Ge Hong relates a parable. The sun is like alchemical fire. Alchemists do not know what fire is until they go to collect what the fire has done to the elixirs. These flowers and trees and countless living beings in this mountain collectively give expression to what the sun has done to this place. You have labeled them physical objects a degree away from truth, while making the sun transcendent. But alchemists see them as Nature’s elixirs—the materialized Qi—in the crucible of life. There cannot be two separate natures, one above and another one below. There is only one Nature—to freely be what is to be. Isn’t this what the sun does? The ascending journey does not stop at the courtyard; they move to the seventh floor of the pavilion, where the spring tea has just been prepared. Plato walks along the eight windows opened to the surroundings where dark mountain peaks stand out like islands in a sea of white. He is overwhelmed by the breathtaking view, which previously he has seen only in paintings. The mountain is indeed beautiful, but is harmony transcendent? Ge Hong relates another parable. “Harmony is like the view before us, always changing, therefore always the same. Harmony is like the immortal being who lives in these mountains. He always opens himself to harbor the myriad things within his all-embracing emptiness.” While they continue the conversation, the morning clouds drift away with the east wind, and the sun reveals the path of their ascending journey. Looking at the horizon where heaven and earth met, Ge Hong tells his guest, “That is where Daoist immortals live, and this is where we philosophers stand. You may not know it, but we are already in the community of immortal beings. All we need to do is to remove the heaven-earth distinction. Nature has already shown us the harmony between them. If we can do the same, heaven and earth may also become one—in us.” On his descending journey, one thing keeps coming back to Plato’s mind. He should not be that elderly man who occupies the center stage of philosophy together with young Aristotle, as Raphael portrayed him in the School of Athens on the wall of the Sistine Chapel, looking face to face at the Son of God on the opposite side. He wonders, “Is the division between Reason and Revelation a mere illusion?”

Notes

Introduction:  The “One and Many” as an Ontological Problem 1. There are two theories on the number of years Ge Hong lived. (1) According to Wang Ming, Ge Hong was born in 283 and died in 363, when he was eighty-one years old. Wang Ming’s study is based on the single reference in Jinshu “Ge Hong zhuan” 晉書葛洪傳 (Wang Ming 1980, 383). For a detailed argument along the same lines, see You Xinxiong 1977, 1. (2) According to Hu Fuchen, Ge Hong was born in 284, and the year of his death is 344. The key reference is Luofu ji 羅浮記. For a full historical study of the reference, see the work of the historian Wang Chengwen (2003). Hu’s essay bears similarity to Chen Feilong’s essay in the same conference proceedings (Chen Feilong 2003). 2. 道生一, 一生二, 二生三, 三生萬物。 3. 玄者, 自然之始祖, 而萬殊之大宗也。 4. Neville 1992, 1–13. 5. Moltmann 1985, 1–19. 6. Honderich 2005, 670. 7. Gao Yongwei 1985, 907. 8. Ware and Ge 1966; Campany 2002. 9. Chen Guofu (1997) has pioneered the study to understand alchemical terms. 10. In the past twenty years, there have been some comparative studies published in Chinese, but they are general studies rather than topic based. See Li Zhilin 1988; Cheng Zhongying 1991; Wang Miaoyang and Fan Mingsheng 1994; Wu 1997; Zhang Zailin 1999; Shanghai Zhongxi Zhexue yu Wenhua Bijiao Yanjiuhui 2000. 11. Yang Ruzhou 1983. Yang’s title claims to be a comparison between two philosophical traditions. In reality, he has not gone the distance to conduct actual comparisons beyond propositional differences stated in the opening chapter (Chenyang Li 1999). In a relatively short first chapter (pp. 1–34), Li makes an ontological distinction between the “one-only” in the Western ontol327

328

notes to pages xx–xxiii

ogy and the “one-many” in the Chinese ontology. Although Li’s works contains specific discussion on Zhuangzi, unfortunately the comparison of Daoism and Western philosophy is done with broad strokes—without penetrating details. 12. Throughout this book “Daoism” is translated from the Chinese term 道 學, the School of Dao, which can be traced to the bibliographical chapter in the History of the Sui “Jingji zhi” 隋書*經籍志. 13. In many textbooks on Chinese intellectual history, Ge Hong is mentioned along with other Daoist thinkers in the Wei-Jin period. However, his thought is mainly seen as a religious sidetrack along the main philosophical stream and is not considered to be directly comparable with his philosophical contemporaries. For this general treatment see Ren Jiyu 1963, 2: 247–253; Beijing Daxue Zhexuexi Zhongguo Zhexue Jiaoyanshi 2001, 203–207; Xiang Shiling 2004, 339–344. 14. Three important works on the philosophy of “religious Daoism” have removed the division and established important connections between socalled philosophical Daoism and religious Daoism. See Lü Pengzhi 2000; Li Dahua 2001; Li Dahua, Li Gang, and He Jianming 2003. 15. There is a new trend in Sinology that regards religious Daoism as the larger paradigm within which philosophical Daoism is an important stream. This new approach does not only remove the division between religion and philosophy, but also sets philosophy within religion. For an influential argument see Bokenkamp and Nickerson 1997, 10–15. 16. Schipper 1993; Schipper and Verellen 2004; Robinet 1997. 17. Kohn 1991, 2000. 18. Bokenkamp and Nickerson 1997. 19. Lagerwey 1987. 20. Campany 2002. 21. Ware and Ge 1966. 22. The formula “道家／儒家＝促進／阻礙” by Xi Zeyan 席澤言 summarizes the overtones of the multivolume collective work The History of Chinese Daoism and Scientific Technology ( Jiang Sheng and Tang Weixia 2002, iv). 23. Needham 1968, 1960, 1971. 24. Jiang Sheng and Tang Weixia 2002; Needham 2001; Zhao Kuanghua and Lu Jiaxi 1998; Rong Zhiyi 1998; Zhao Kuanghua 1996; Sivin 1995, 1968, 1969. 25. In my postgraduate education, I became engaged in the dialogue between science and religion, through which I encountered a number of institutions that aim to bridge the gap between religion and science: the Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences run by the Graduate Theological Union (GTU) in Berkeley, California, http://www.ctns.org/ (accessed June 2006); the John Templeton Foundation in Philadelphia, http://www.templeton .org/ (accessed June 2006); the European Society for the Study of Science and Theology at Leiden University in the Netherlands, http://www.esssat .org/ (accessed June 2006).



notes to pages 2–9329 Chapter 1:  Ge Hong’s Doctrine of Xuan Dao

1. As for this passage, long quoted passages throughout this book are not provided with full texts in Chinese. I assume that readers will go back to the primary source for an in-depth reading. But some key terms are given in pinyin and Chinese characters. 2. Ware and Ge 1966. 3. In Chinese literature the genre of rhapsody (chang 暢), as exemplified in the title “Chang Xuan,” is associated with the poetic form called rhapsody (fu 賦) (Nienhauser 1986, 388–391). 4. Wang Ming 1980. 5. The only surviving copy is held in the Liaoning Provincial Library 遼 寧圖書館. Its scholarly abbreviation is Song zhe ben 宋浙本. Wang Ming’s work does not solely rely on this edition, but also on the text in the Ming dynasty Daoist Canon (Daozang). It is based also on some newly discovered fragments. For the full background of Wang’s textual work, see Wang Ming 1980, 18, 396–399. 6. See Wang Ming’s text note 7 (ibid., 4). 7. As indicated in the Introduction, the distinction between philosophical Daoism and religious Daoism is a modern division, not a historical one. But occasionally the distinction is used in dialogue with Daoist scholarship. 8. 玄之又玄眾妙之門。 9. 眾妙皆從（同)［玄］而出, 故曰［眾妙之門］也。Lou Yulie 1980, 2. 10. See Wang Ming’s text notes 2 and 3 (1980, 4). 11. Chen Zungui 1980, 86–88. 12. The umbrella image is explored in David Holm’s study on the liturgical dances still present in modern China, in which an umbrella is used to symbolize the turning heavens. The particular correspondence between the liturgy and the ancient belief is the Nine Luminaries (jiuyao 九耀) (Holm 1990, 192, 193). 13. The commentary refers to the religious commentary tradition on Laozi, Xiang’er zhu 想而注. For a systematic study see Bokenkamp and Nickerson 1997, 22, 29–77. 14. Wang Ming 1980, 4. 15. Qing Xitai 1996, 307. 16. Wang Ming 1980, preface, 4. 17. I gathered this impression from the First International Conference on Ge Hong in November 2003, held at Zhejiang University, China. 18. He Shuzhen 2002, 11. 19. Ibid., 27. 20. ZHDZ is the abbreviation for Zhonghua Daozang (Li Zeng 1997). This is a newly published and punctuated version of the Daoist Canon. The classic Daozang (DZ) is referenced by volume and page. For Yang Xiong’s method of divination in English, see Yang 1993, 27–32.

330

notes to pages 9–21

21. The connection between the Book of Changes and the Tai Xuan has been well identified by Michael Nylan (1994). For a systematic study and commentary, see Yang 1993. 22. Wang Qing 2000, 130. For the list of tetragrams (translated into English) used in the Tai Xuan see, Yang 1993, 25–28. 23. The autobiography is only collected in ZHDZ and not in DZ. 24. Ge Hong’s relation with Wei Poyang will be discussed in Chapter 9, “The Many,” on Ge Hong’s alchemy. 25. The number following the abbreviation indicates the page number in the edition published by Zhonghua Shuju 中華書局. 26. Wang Ming 1980, preface, 3–4; Yang Mingzhao 1991, 1997, preface, 1–2. 27. The details of the Gaitian model will be discussed extensively in the chapter on the One. For a brief discussion of the contrary views of the two models, see Zheng Wenguang 1979, 104–107. 28. Ge Hong’s astronomical texts will be closely studied in the context of the alchemical universe in the chapter “The One.” 29. Chen Zungui 1980, 305, 306. 30. Cullen’s study of the Constellations in the Gaitian astronomy makes an important correction to Needham’s study. Cullen argues that Chinese astronomy was not motivated merely by intellectual curiosity, but rather aimed to produce an accurate calendar for agricultural demands, so such operations as sowing and harvesting could be carried out at the proper time (Cullen et al. 1996, 5; for a general background on calendrical astronomy, see pp. 4–27). 31. Wang Ming’s textual notes 4 and 5 in Wang Ming 1980, 4. 32. 辰極不動, 鎮星獨東。 33. 一在北極大淵之中。 34. The connection between alchemy and astronomy will be discussed in the chapter on “The One.” 35. For details see Wang Ming’s comparison (1980, preface, 12). 36. 變化者, 乃天地之自然。The sentence literally means “change and transformation are the self-so-ness of heaven and earth.” Here I interpret ziran as principle. The interpretation requires a separate discussion of ziran as an ontological concept in Daoism. The detailed discussion will be presented in the chapter on “Nothing.” 37. For a brief introduction see Hu Fuchen and L¸ Xichen 2004, 178–201; for a comprehensive study see Kang Zhongqian 2003. 38. For a full philosophical discussion, see Zhou Shaoxian and Liu Guijie 1996. 39. I borrow the expression from Zhou Shaoxian. Ibid., 120. 40. Tang Yijie 2003, 64. 41. Ibid., 66.



notes to pages 21–28331

42. Tang has published a fuller account of the School of Xuan and Daoism in the Wei-Jin Period (Tang Yijie 1988). But there is no direct comparison between Ge Hong and the School of Xuan. 43. Kang Zhongqian 2003, 6–18. 44. The seven include Ruan Ji 阮籍 (210–263), Ji Kang 嵇康 (223–262), Shan Tao 山濤, Wang Jie 王戒, Xiang Xiu 向秀, Liu Ling 劉伶, and Ruan Xian 阮鹹. For bibliographic details see Lin Li-chen 2005, 1:33–74. 45. Commentary by Wang Bi 王弼 in Xiao Tianshi 1977, 391; for an ­English translation see Wagner 2003, 122. 46. Commentary by Wang Bi in Xiao Tianshi 1977, 392; Wagner 2003, 123. 47. The point is summarized by the editor, his son Tang Yijie (Tang Yongtong 2001, 12). 48. Hu Fuchen and L¸ Xichen 2004, 181. 49. During the conference on Ge Hong, I heard this claim repeatedly from various scholars. 50. “於是脫離漢代宇宙之論 (Cosmology or Cosmogony) 而留連於存存本 本之真 (ontology or theory of being)” (Tang Yongtong 2001, 44). 51. Kang Zhongqian 2003, 125–139. 52. Xiao Tianshi 1977, 392. The passage creates a high level of difficulty for a translator because the philosophical argument is concealed in the ambiguity of the classical language. Here I have sacrificed textual fidelity but focused on the philosophical meaning of the text. For a literal translation see Wagner 2003, 122, 123. 53. 無, 名天地之始; 有, 名萬物之母。 54. McGrath 1994, 493. 55. 或倏爍而景逝, 或飄澤而流星, 或晃漾於淵澄, 或氛霏而雲浮。 56. 天地至大, 舉目所見, 獨不能了, 況乎玄之又玄, 妙之極妙者乎? “For those [Confucians] who have failed to grasp the breadth of the universe, even though it is a simple matter of observation, how can they understand Xuan upon Xuan and the wonder of all wonders?” (IC 154). 57. “以無為本” 的本體論。Hu Fuchen and L¸ Xichen 2004, 179. 58. The concept of Nothingness interprets the phrase “玄之又玄眾妙之門” to designate the meaning of “beyond the door” of conceptual norms. (Laozi 1) The concept of potency comes from the phrase “Dao is potent, its works are beyond measure” 道沖而用之或不盈 (Laozi 4). According to Heshang Gong’s 河上公 interpretation, here the word chong 沖 is used interchangeably with the word zhong 中 denoting the sense of inner life. See Heshang Gong’s commentary in Xiao Tianshi 1977, 540. 59. Ge Xuan et al. 1977, 525, 526. 60. Bokenkamp and Nickerson 1997, 39. 61. 出乎無上, 如乎無下。Ware has translated the sentence as “he exists through the zenith and enters through the nadir.” Ware’s translation is rhetorically more satisfying for describing immortal existence. My translation is

332

notes to pages 28–38

more literal in order to highlight the idea of wu, leaving the cosmic background of Daoist immortals to be extensively investigated in another chapter. 62. 無欲無變, 全真虛器, 恢恢蕩蕩, 與渾成等其自然。 63. Graham (1989) reviews scholarly work on this key stream of Chinese intellectual history. Chapter 2:  Plato’s Answer to the Pre-Socratic Debate 1. In this section I rely on Jonathan Barnes’ recent study in presenting the sources of textual fragments. These fragments are traditionally attributed to the Milesian, and Barnes evidently has accepted the historical interpretations of the fragments, which I also follow (Barnes 1987, 9–27). 2. A version of the Laozi written on bamboo strips had been discovered and closely studied. It belonged to the Chunqiu period dating to about 700–500 BC (Yin Zhenhuan 2001). 3. Hermann Diels and Walther Kranz’ work Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker is a scholarly edition of the ancient fragments of the Presocratic philosophers. Many translations use Diels-Kranz numbers when referring to specific passages. The system refers to three sections: A contains testimonia, B contains fragments, and C contains imitations. Here the reference “11B3” refers to chapter 11, section B, the third item. I will give the original source wherever possible. 4. Stokes provides a summary regarding whether the Milesians used the word “unlimited” in the way that Aristotle attributed to them (Stokes 1971, 28–30). 5. Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies, I vi 1–7. 6. Censorinus, On the Day of Birth, iv 7. 7. The medical application of element theory goes back to ancient Greece. See “Mental Health in Plato’s Republic” in Kenny 1973, 3. 8. Plutarch, The Primary Cold, 947f. 9. Plutarch, Opinions of the Philosophers on Nature, 876AB. 10. Aristotle, Rhetoric, 1407b14–18; Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies, IX ix 1-x 9. Again I rely on Jonathan Barnes’ study (1987, 49, 51). 11. “The circumference of a circle the beginning and end are common” (Burnet 1930, 138). 12. Herodotus, Histories, II 123.2–3. 13. Aristotle, On the Pythagoreans, fragment 191 Rose, 3rd ed., in Apollonius, Marvellous Stories, 6. 14. Aristotle 1998, 1078b, 402. 15. This is my reconstruction of Burnet’s insight that the Forms had a Pythagorean origin (Burnet 1930, 309). 16. Kirk 1957, 71, 277–282. 17. Ibid., 71, 352, 277. 18. Burnet says: “The truth Herakleitos proclaimed was that the world is at



notes to pages 40–55333

once one and many, and that it is just the ‘opposite tension’ of the opposites that constitutes the unity of the One” (Burnet 1930, 143). 19. Taylor 1956, 351. 20. Cornford 1939, 114. 21. Ryle 1965, 98. 22. Ibid., 97. 23. Runciman 1965 [1959], 149. 24. Ibid., 184. 25. According to Runciman the following passages were written after the Parmenides: Timaeus (51b–52c), Philebus (15a–b), Theaetetus (185d), Politicus (284e–286a), Sophist (249c–d), Phaedrus (277a), and Laws (965 b–e). Runciman 1965 [1959], 152. 26. Robinson 1953. 27. Allen 1997, preface, xi. 28. Plato and Scolnicov 2003. 29. Cornford 1939, 87. 30. I rely on Taylor’s study to identify this asymmetrical participation. “It is in fact a relation of resemblance + derivation, and this relation is not symmetrical. My reflection in the glass is a reflection of my face, but my face is not a reflection of it” (Taylor 1956, 358; also in Cornford 1939, 93–94). 31. Kirk 1957 (1971), (344), 269. 32. Ibid. 33. Ibid., (352), 277. Chapter 3:  Ge Hong’s Preservation of the One 1. TPJ 67, 254, is the abbreviation for the chapter 67, page 254, in Wang Ming’s (1997) punctuated edition of the Taiping jing 太平經. 2. 自天地至於萬物, 無不須氣以生者也。 3. 老君曰：忽兮恍兮, 其中有象, 恍兮忽兮, 其中有物。一之謂也。 4. 無為而無不為。 5. The list is presented in the concordance on the Inner Chapters (Schipper and Chen 1965, 597). 6. 仙法欲靜寂無為。天之無為, 於此明矣。 7. Henrick translates wuwei as “to act without acting” in his translation of Laozi and further clarifies this as “to spontaneously say and do what is genuinely felt rather than putting on a show for others” (Henricks 1989, xxvi). Graham translates the concept as “doing nothing” but also points out that “doing nothing” also includes the motif of “doing but . . .”. Certainly Graham has recognized the paradoxical nature of the concept yet has failed to capture it in the translation (Graham 1989, 232–234). 8. 天下之大德曰生, 生, 好物者也。According to Wang Ming’s text note, the first sentence comes from Zhouyi fanci 周易繁辭, whereas the second sentence is from the Zuozhuan 左傳. (Wang Ming 1980, 260).

334

notes to pages 55–66

9. 剛柔相推, 變在其中。生乎動者也。Zh u Xi 1996, 322. 10. In Chapter 7, “Nothing,” the logical aspects of ontological change will be discussed in the context of change as both continuity and discontinuity. This paradox of sameness and difference will be then put in comparative context with Plato’s disassociation of being and not-being. 11. Ware and Ge 1966, 28–29. 12. Chen Feilong 2002, chap. 1. 13. 夫人在氣中, 氣在人中, 自天地至萬物, 無不須氣以生者也。 14. 天得一以清, 地得一以寧, 人得一以生, 神得一以靈。 15. 萬物之生, 皆稟元氣。天地合氣, 萬物自生, 猶夫婦合氣, 子自生矣。 The references follow the commentary by Huang Hui 黃暉. LH 23, 949, is the abbreviation for Lun heng, chapter 23, page 949 (Huang Hui 1990). 16. 物物者亡乎萬物之中。 The reference follows the commentary by the modern scholar Liu Kangde 劉康德. (2001). 17. 凡論事者, 違實不引效驗, 則雖甘義繁說, 眾不見信。事有證驗, 以效實 然。 18. OC 43, 423, is the abbreviation for Outer Chapters, chapter 43, page 423. The reference follows the annotated edition by Yang Mingzhao 楊明照 (1991, 1997). 19. 校其小驗, 則知其大效。 20. 子欲長生, 守一當明。 21. 夫玄道者, 得之乎內, 守之者外, 用之者神, 忘之者器。 22. Hu Fuchen 1989, 202. 23. The inner/outer distinction is absent in Ge Hong’s writing. Historically inner alchemy and outer alchemy came to be distinguished during the latter period of the Tang dynasty. Hu Fuchen and L¸ Xichen 2004, 527. 24. Robinet 1997, 80. 25. Campany translates the term fangshi as “masters of esoterica” ( 2002, 6). 26. Bokenkamp and Nickerson 1997, 67. 27. Chen Guofu 1963, 258. 28. Qing Xitai 1996, 336. 29. Chang Minyi 2003, 57–59. 30. The translation is modified from Ware’s (1966) translation. 31. 含醇守撲, 無欲無變。恢恢蕩蕩, 與混成等其自然。 32. 道起於一, 其貴無偶, 各居一處, 以象天地人, 故曰三一也。 33. I have discovered some text notes in the work of Gu Jiu (1995, 463–464), but as I began to trace the notes to their original sources (Ding Fubao n.d., book 9), I discovered that many references are either incorrect or belonged to texts of much later periods. Here I have created a table to demonstrate the connection between Ge Hong’s text and the early medical text the Scripture of the Yellow Chamber. The asterisk indicates changes that I have made. 34. The Scripture of the Yellow Chamber in the Daoist Canon has three fascicles: the Inner, the Outer, and the Middle. According to Hu Fuchen, the earliest text, known as the Huangting jing 黃庭經, appeared in the Western



notes to pages 68–81335

Jin period. During the Eastern Jin period, the Inner fascicle appeared as the Neijing jing 內景經, and the earlier 黃庭經 Huangting jing was then retitled as the Outer fascicle or Waijing jing 外景經. The Middle fascicle or Taishang huangting zhongjing jing 太上黃庭中景經 belonged to a later period. So the chronological order of the three with reference to Ge Hong is 外景經 Waijing jing, 抱撲子 Baopuzi, 內景經 Neijing jing (Hu Fuchen 1989, 225–228). For a study of the Huangting jing, see Schipper 1975; for a study of the Wushang biyao, see Lagerwey 1981. 35. For a detailed study on the heavenly city and its relation to the cosmos, see Wheatley 1971. 36. 方之於燭, 燭糜則火不居矣。身勞則神散, 氣竭則命終。 37. 夫有因無而生焉, 形須神而立焉。有者, 無之宮也。形者, 神之宅也。 38. Hu Fuchen 1989, 228. 39. 形者, 生之舍也；氣者, 生之充也；神者, 生之制也。 40. 墜肢體, 黜聰明, 離形去知, 同於大通, 此謂坐忘。 41. The argument turns out to be a massive study of Chinese sciences categorized into branches defined by Western sciences (Needham 1954–2003). Chapter 4:  Plato’s Doctrine of Forms 1. The dates of Plato’s dialogues are disputed. The dating is associated with various factors, such as stylometry, Aristotle’s references, Plato’s own development of thought, and some unclassifiable features. Here I follow Richard Kraut’s study and group Plato’s dialogues in the following chronological categories: the early dialogues, the transitional and middle dialogues, and the later dialogues. (1) The early dialogues include Apology, Charmides, Crito, Euthyprhro, Hippias Minor, Ion, Laches, and Protagoras. (2) The transitional dialogues contain some stylistic similarity to the middle dialogues. They include Euthydemus, Gorgias, Hippias Major, Lysis, Menexenus, and Republic, book I. The middle dialogues consist of Meno, Cratylus, Phaedo, Symposium, Republic 2 to 10, Phaedrus, Parmenides, and Theaetetus in chronological order. (3) The later dialogues contain Timaeus, Critias, Sophist, Statesman, Philebus, and Laws. Richard Kraut, “Introduction to the Study of Plato,” in Kraut 1992, 5–15. For discussion of chronology based on stylometry, see Brandwood 1990. For the dating of the early dialogues (also called the Socratic dialogues) based on the argument that the speeches of Socrates in this group represent the thought of the historical Socrates, see Vlastos 1991. 2. Taylor 1956, 187; Ross 1951, 25; Shorey 1965, 172–173. 3. Irwin 1994, chap. 10; Nehamas 1999, 171–191. 4. Fine 1984. 5. Fine 1986. 6. Vlastos 1987, 212. 7. Devereux 1994, 64. 8. I have modified the diagram from the version presented by Desmond

336

notes to pages 81–101

Lee in his translation of the Republic (Plato 1955, 250). The texts from the Republic are also based on his translation. 9. Here I borrow Cornford’s phrase (1941 [1955], 217). 10. Cross and Woozey argue that Plato’s attitude on poetry and art as illusion in book 10 fits well into his scheme of knowledge presented in the Divided Line (1964, chap. 12). 11. Just as ancient commentators had recognized the Pythagorean origin of Plato’s idea of the harmonious World Soul, Cornford points out that the harmony is musically demonstrable (1935a [1977] , 71, 72). 12. Taylor 1956, 187. 13. Ross 1951, 38. 14. Modern scholars have identified this mistake that has a Parmenidean origin. See Cornford 1935b, 296; Owen 1999, 418–421. The original publications are in Vlastos 1970. 15. Cornford 1935b, 208. Chapter 5:  Two Forms of Enlightenment 1. For some older discussions of Plato’s idea of good in the Republic, see Ross 1951, 39–69; Taylor 1956, 285–298; Cornford 1965. 2. For a list of puzzling questions about the Platonic good, see White 1976, 100. 3. For a study on Platonic Forms and good in Plato’s Eleatic dialogues, see Dorter 1994. 4. For a connection with the One in the Parmenides see Brumbaugh 1961. 5. Santas has argued that the Form of the good in the three similes of the Republic has formulated the first grand philosophical synthesis but nonetheless is paradoxical in nature. See Gerasimos Santas, “The Form of the Good in Plato’s Republic,” in Fine 1999, 247–274 . I am indebted to his analysis and reinterpretation on Paul Shorey’s translation and commentary on the three similes. But I disagree with Santas on two issues. (1) He consistently treats “the Form of the good” as a Form, but I maintain the term “the vision of good” also used by Plato. I shall argue in the following that the good is neither a Form nor a kind of knowledge, but a teleological unity through which the mind and Forms become communicable. (2) He argues the distinction of ideal/ proper attributes (by Vlastos) is the key to understanding the ontologicalepistemological priority of the good. I argue the supreme status of the good is self-explanatory if the OM argument is closely examined. 6. Reflecting on the passage of the Cave, Richard Kraut has identified theoretical studies and public ruling as two divergent tasks: self-interest and justice. His solution to the divergence, on the one hand similar to Reeve’s argument, is that ruling promotes the greatest good by the philosophers over the long run; on the other hand based on his reading, justice and one’s own well-being (including the self-interest of intellectualism) coincide in the idea



notes to pages 102–111337

of good (Kraut 1999; also see Reeve 1988, 201–203). I think Kraut’s interpretation offers a moral lesson critical of modern individualism. Nonetheless the so-called divergence of self and public interest, I argue from here onward, is not as great as he perceives. 7. Taylor 1956, 295. Chapter 6:  Ge Hong’s Doctrine of Immortal Beings 1. Michael Loewe’s study on Han China assesses a wealth of archaeological evidence to uncover the belief in immortality relating to death and the hereafter. In particular Loewe closely examined three major subjects of Han art and iconography: a recently found silk painting from central China dating from around 168 BC; numerous bronze mirrors of the so-called TLV pattern rich in cosmological symbolism; and representations of the Queen Mother of the West (Loewe 1979). The last subject, although a popular figure and a leading motif of Han art and literature, clearly belonged to the Daoist tradition at a very early period (Kohn 1991). 2. Schipper and Chen 1965, 425–427. 3. Ibid., 662, 663. 4. I am indebted to Li’s scholarly work on the historical background of Ge Hong’s doctrine of immortals (Li Gang 1995; Li Dahua, Li Gang, and He Jianming 2003). In particular, I appreciate his scholarly openness to engage in dialogues with Western thought as well as his hospitality while I conducted field research in Sichuan. 5. Under the influence of material philosophy, modern Chinese scholarship in the past tended to interpret the Daoist belief in immorality through Marxism as a form of “feudal superstition” 封建迷信. Li Gang’s study marks a brave breakthrough in interpreting valuable ethics from religion (1995, 141–160). 6. Ibid., 21, 24. 7. Other scholars have closely followed Li’s thesis, especially his pupil Li Xiaoguang 李小光 in his published dissertation Transcendence beyond Life and Death and Its Connection to Humanity (2002). 8. Li Gang 1995, 143. 9. Three are three separate autobiographical sources: the preface of the Inner Chapters, the preface of the Outer Chapters, and the biography of Ge Hong recorded in the Jinshu. All three have been collected in Wang Ming’s edition (1980, 367–383). 10. 道者, 萬殊之源也。儒者, 大淳之流也。 11. For an earlier analysis see Taylor 1956, 185, 186. For a more recent study of the Phaedo and, in particular, analysis into Plato’s proof of the immortal soul, see Bostock 1986, 51–54. 12. 神仙不死, 信可得乎？ 13. 萬物云云, 何所不有, 況列仙之人？

338

notes to pages 111–131

14. 夫有始者必有卒, 有存者必有亡。 15. Qing Xitai 1996, 1: 311, 312. 16. The original text says: “所見為有不見為無” (IC 15). 17. 有周孔於在昔矣 (IC 13). 18. 仗其短淺之耳目, 以斷微妙之有無, 豈不悲哉 (IC 15). 19. 未可（以）一（斷）也 (IC 13). 20. 難以愚俗之近情, 而推神仙之遠旨。 21. 然書［列仙傳］不出周公之門, 事不經仲尼之手, 世人終不信。 22. Hu Fuchen 1989, 128. 23. 夫求長生, 修至道, 訣在於志, 不在於富貴也。 24. 壽命在我著也。 25. 人在世間, 日失一日, 如牽牛羊以詣屠所, 每進一步, 而去死轉近。 26. Ge Hong 1991; Campany 2002. 27. Campany 2002, 9–12. 28. Ibid., 98–102. 29. Ibid., 4, 5. 30. Campany does not give a satisfying explanation on why “transcendent” is a better translation than “immortal,” but he indicates that the term is intended to argue against the philosophical interpretation by David Hall and Roger Ames (Thinking through Confucius, 13). For details see Campany 2002, 5, n. 5. 31. See Campany 2002, 32, n. 48. 32. Here I borrow Schipper’s (folk) etymology, which recognizes the bodily nature of immortality. But I have given “mountain” an extended interpretation as “Nature” to bring out the connotation that xian expresses the unification of humanity with Nature (Schipper 1993, 164). 33. In his opening chapter, Campany says, “My approach has been to avoid using big labels, ‘ists’ or ‘isms’ at all.” And “Ge Hong is best seen as a collector and unifier, but hardly a systematizer.” His hagiography tells people about “the roots of Daoist religion and, more broadly, about the history of Chinese religions and the history of religions in general” (Campany 2002, 5, 8, 9). 34. Ge Hong, He Tang, and Wang Mo 1880, 1. 35. 元君者, 老子之師也。元君者, 大神仙之人也。天下眾神皆隸焉。 36. 至於彭老猶是人耳, 非異類。而壽獨長者, 由於得道, 非自然也。 37. 山無大小, 皆有神靈。 38. Bigu is a Daoist art practiced by generations of adepts. I was told during the First International Conference on Ge Hong in 2003 that the famous scholar Hu Fuchen (at the same dinner table with me) had managed to live on water and a couple of pieces of fruit daily for forty-eight days. His face did appear to me vigorously pink, and he looked ten years younger than others of similar age. 39. 故治身養性, 務謹其細, 不可以小益為不平而不修, 不可以小損為無傷而 不防。 40. Irwin 1977, 191–195.



notes to pages 134–160339

41. 夫道者, 內能治身, 外能治國。 42. 順應自然無為而治。 43. 守玄一複易於守真一。 44. “克己复礼为仁。Lunyu 论语, 颜渊. 45. In the Laws 9, the concept of injustice is defined as “the mastery of the soul by anger, fear, pleasure, pain, envy and desires, whether they lead to any actual damage or not” (863e). 46. Here I borrow Irwin’s phrase. See Irwin 1994, 224. 47. The Daoist idiom “內視反聽屍居無心” literarily means first looking and hearing inwardly, second being at peace as if having no heart rate like a dead body. According to Inner Alchemy, this particular idiom refers to the communication of inner and outer environments and the unification of bodily form and pneumatic vigor (deriving from Dao). Here my translation mainly corresponds with the method of Preservation of the One, which has been discussed with respect to the doctrine of Xuan Dao. 48. 治身而身長修, 治國而國太平。 Chapter 7:  Nothing 1. The original idea of the paradox of continuity and discontinuity was conceived through the study of the Daoist relational ontology of nothing/ something. But the articulation was inspired by Neville, with whom I did a doctoral seminar in 1999. The details can be found in his book under the section “The Fundamental Dilemma of Ontology.” The principle of the ontological ground of differences states: Two differing determinations of being presuppose a common ground in virtue of which they are relevantly determined with respect to each other and from which each delimits for itself a domain over and against the other. The principle of the ontological equality of reciprocal contrast states: If two determinations of being are contrasting terms from each other, then they must be on the same ontological level and the categories descriptive of them must be on the same logical level. Neville further develops the dilemma in the creator-created distinction. For details see Neville 1992, 40–42, 94–106. 2. Owen 1999, 447–453. 3. “To be what” is not a general statement. It has some exceptions. For example nonexistent is the negative form of to be without a predicate. But I have already been argued that the equation of not-being with nonexistence is ontologically false. 4. Here I borrow Owen’s distinction to express the aspect of subject negation that happens to the English verb “to be.” But unlike Owen’s linguistic scrutiny, I do not see any difference between “to be not-something” and “to not-be something.” “Socrates is not-beautiful” may mean that Socrates can be anything in appearance but beautiful. And “Socrates is-not beautiful” may specifically designate Socrates cannot be beautiful. But they mean the same thing

340

notes to pages 164–197

in that both rule out the possibility “Socrates is beautiful.” See Owen 1999, 450–453. 5. For Daoism if all trees had been destroyed in the world, the ideal tree would be gone with physical trees. This is because the ontological status of tree-ness is not conceived as an independent being, but the relationship between the ideal and the actual. Here for argument’s sake I have followed Plato’s notion of independent Forms to articulate the point that all beings are ultimately indeterminate. 6. Wright 2000, introduction. 7. Dean-Jones 2000, 102. 8. Keyt 1971, 232, 234. 9. In the second chapter of the Inner Chapters, Ge Hong argues that to encounter “the far reaching meaning of immortal existence and the peaceful mystery of Dao and De,” one must leave behind one’s doubt and enter into “the greatness beyond the nothingness” (IC 14–15). 10. “高不可登, 深不可測”. “逍遙恍惚之中, 徜徉仿佛之表” (IC 2). 11. The point is inspired by Graham’s study, where something and nothing are compared to solid and tenuous (1990, 345). Chapter 8:  The One 1. The page number following the abbreviation indicates the page in the Zhonghua Shuju edition of 1974 (1998 reprint). 2. Ge Hong, He Tang, and Wang Mo 1880, 1. 3. 已有盤古真人天地之精自號元始天王游乎其中。The sentence comes from Yuanshi shangzhen zhongxian ji 元始上真中仙記. This text purports to be a revelation to Ge Hong during his time at Mount Luofu 羅浮山, but the text was reedited several generations after Ge Hong and was attributed to him. For a brief discussion see Schipper and Verellen 2004, 1:107, 108. 4. 引三景於明堂, 飛元始以煉形。 5. 自天地至於萬物, 無不須氣以之生者也。 6. 然其根源之所緣由, 皆自然之感致。 7. Needham 1954–2003, vol. 3 (1959): 210, 216, 219. 8. Cullen et al. 1996, preface xi–xiv, 35, 37–39. 9. 天了無質, 仰而望之, 高遠無極。 10. Needham 1954–2003, vol. 3 (1959): 210. 11. Aihe Wang 2000, 129–172. 12. Needham 1954–2003, vol. 3 (1959): 216. 13. Fang Xuanling 1990, 282. 14. A comprehensive study on the constellations can also be found in Need­ham’s study (Needham 1981, 234–238). 15. Ibid., 232. 16. 符出於老君, 皆天文也。 17. 求形驗于事情, 莫密於渾象者也。



notes to pages 200–209341

18. The Chinese “were the most persistent and accurate observers of celestial phenomena anywhere in the world before the Arabs” (Needham 1954– 2003, vol. 3 [1959]: 171–172). 19. Tang Rushan 唐如山 (1962) argued that this passage is telling evidence that Zhang Heng originally combined the flat earth theory with the Gaitian theory. Later Zheng Wenguang 鄭文光 argued that Tang misinterpreted the general advance of the Huntian theory because even the Gaitian theory had abandoned the “round heaven and flat earth” (Zheng Wenguang 2000, 212–215). 20. The table is reconstructed from passages in the “Astronomical Treatise” (Fang Xuanling 1990, 318–320). 21. Needham follows the study by Qian Baocong 錢寶琮 and indicates that the first appearance of this version is in chapter 13 of Lüshi chunqiu 呂氏春秋 (Needham 1954–2003, 3: 210, note h). Zheng Wenguang 鄭文光 also follows the first version of the Lid theory with regard to this passage (2000, 216). 22. The concept of waiheng designates the outer boundary of the heavens. Here I follow Needham’s translation as the “outermost barrier-declinationcircle” to provide the geometric shape of radian declination on a half circle (Needham 1954–2003, vol. 3, section 20, 213). 23. Needham translates qiheng liujian literally as “the seven barriers [declination-circles] and the six roads.” But according to the Gaitian theory, the term represents the celestial map 圖 that calculates the movement of the sun. Therefore, I translate the term as “the map of seven barriers and six paths” accordingly. 24. Here I use the diagram in Needham’s book; he, in turn, follows the study of Herbert Clatley (Needham 1954–2003, 3: 212). Qian Baocong’s (1998) reconstruction of the theory has been published in Chinese. 25. Cullen et al. 1996, 7–20, 92–102. 26. For a detailed discussion of the geometry, see ibid., 105. 27. For the geometry of the calculations, see ibid., 136. 28. The sentence is Ge Hong’s rephrasing of Wang Chong’s argument, which is in LH 2, “On the Sun,” 500–502. 29. Jiang Sheng and Tang Weixia 2002, 671. 30. Qiu Guangting’s commentary was written under the title Haichao lun 海 潮論 (A Discussion on Tides). See Quan Tangwen 全唐文 (Complete Writings of the Tang), fascicle 899. Here I rely on recent Chinese scholarship in the collective study edited by Jiang Sheng and Tang Weixia (2002, 671). The title resembles that of the lost book Chaoshuo 潮說 (On Tides) by Ge Hong. See the bibliography of Ge Hong in Wang Ming 1980, 391. 31. 上升四十裏, 名為太清。太清之中, 其氣甚剛。IC 275. 32. The quotation has various sources. According to a Chinese study, the passage comes from The Complete Writings of the Tang 全唐文, fascicle 899 (Jiang Sheng and Tang Weixia 2002, 671). But during my research I was not able to trace the original document. According to Neehdam’s study, the author is not

342

notes to pages 209–242

Qiu Guangting 邱光庭, but Ma Yongqing, and the book title is Lanzhenzi 懶真 子, not Haichao lun 海潮論. Following Needham’s footnote, I have found the passage in Ma Yongqing 1984. Because the reprinted book does not have page numbers, I can only indicate that it is under the title Lanzhenzi, 7:4a. For Needham’s translation and text notes, see Needham 1954–2003, vol. 3, chapter 20, Astronomy, 222, footnote h and translation note 5. 33. Jiang Sheng and Tang Weixia 2002, 671. 34. In the theory the stability of the earthly kingdom is projected to heaven, as it argues that celestial bodies are stationary, and their movements are illusions. 35. Ma Yongqing 1984, Lanzhenzi, 7:4a. 36. Cornford 1935a [1977]. 37. Wright 2000; Reydams-Schils 2002; Johansen 2004. 38. Cornford 1935a [1977], 61–63. 39. Plato models the World Soul from his understanding of human souls. In earlier dialogues, particularly Phaedrus, Plato has already developed a doctrine of the immortal soul. The World Soul in the later dialogues of the Laws and Timaeus is evidently an enlarged and developed version of the human soul. 40. Cornford 1935, [1977], 61–63. 41. Ibid., 63. 42. According to Burnet, Plato’s mathematical cosmology is directly borrowed from the Pythagoreans, who professed the world essentially consists of arithmetical numbers that make things knowable, while the ultimate essence of things is not intelligible (1930, 285). 43. Cornford 1935a [1977], 67. 44. Ibid., 69–72. 45. Ibid., 68. Chapter 9:  The Many 1. Davis and Wu 1930. 2. Chen Guofu 1963, vol. 2, appendix 5, 370–437. 3. Chen Guofu 1983, author’s preface, 2. 4. Chen Guofu 1983. 5. Ibid., author’s preface, 1–2. 6. Sivin 1968. 7. Ibid., preface, xv. 8. Ibid., 19. 9. Ibid., preface, xv. 10. Chen Guofu 1983, 3. 11. Ge Hong’s bibliography is a rare resource for the study of Daoism in early Chinese history. However, most of the books mentioned have been lost. For a discussion of the bibliography see Schipper and Verellen 2004, vol. 1, 8–9.



notes to pages 243–253343

12. Needham 1976, vol. 5, pt. 3, 109. 13. Pregadio 1991. Robert Campany provides a summary of Pregadio’s work ( 2002, 31–47). 14. Pregadio’s two-stage description appears to be almost identical with Needham’s description of the “cyclically-transformed elixir” 還丹. However, the textual source in Needham’s study is chapter 1 of The Scripture on the Immortal Bubbling Gold (Potion) of the Immortals by Baopuzi (Pregadio 1991, 575–576). 15. Campany’s summary of Pregadio’s work from ibid. 16. I have not been able to find Wang’s study published in Chinese in 1964. However, Needham has summarized Wang’s research and provided his own evaluation of the hypothesis (Needham 1954–2003, vol. 5, pt. 3, 89–98). 17. During the First International Conference on Ge Hong in 2003, Hu Fuchen informed me, “All three of Ge Hong’s alchemical texts have been proven in laboratories.” However, I have not been able to find documentation. 18. Here I rely on Pregadio’s study as the chief resource for reconstructing the textual tradition (Pregadio 1991, 572). 19. I have based this translation partly on Robert Company’s version, which follows Sivin’s reconstruction of the chemical terminology. I also have consulted the translations by Pregadio and Ware (Campany 2002 36, 37; Sivin 1980, 256; Pregadio 1991, 572; Ware and Ge Hong 1966, 81, 82). 20. Ge Hong writes, “Recently, at the end of Han, the adept Yin Changsheng of Xinye 新野 succeeded in synthesizing the elixir of Grand Purity. Thus he attained the immortal state.” Based on this reference, Chen Guofu infers that Yin Changsheng is the real author of the Scripture on the Elixir of Grand Purity (1963, 380). 21. Daojiao yishu 道教義樞 explains: The Scripture of Grand Purity “elucidates the theory of golden elixirs. Whoever ingests the elixir will ascend into the realm of Grand Purity. This is the reason for naming it [the elixir of] Grand Purity” (vol. 2, part 7). 22. Having worked in the solar-electric energy industry for ten years, I quickly recognized the solar heating method and its potential outcomes. 23. The chemical reactions and their formulas in this section are my own. Based on my knowledge of chemistry from my early studies in natural science, I propose the hypothesis that the whole process could be energized by solar energy. 24. Hu Fuchen and Lü Xichen 2004, 466; Jin Zhengyao 2001, 159. 25. Sivin 1968, 160, 161. 26. Ibid., 182, 183. 27. This general line of discussion of the pros and cons of alchemy is most evident in Rong Zhiyi’s (1998) work. Also see Jin Zhengyao’s essay “Crazed Dynasty during the Wei and Jin Dynasties” for the background of the ancient drug culture (in Jin Zhengyao 2001, 61–65). 28. The dominant position of instrumental alchemy started to give way to bodily alchemy in the Song period. It declined in the Yuan, when bodily

344

notes to pages 253–274

alchemy responded to Buddhist spiritualism. During the Qing, it was almost phased out, especially when China opened to Western sciences. For the historical background, see Hu Fuchen and Lü Xichen 2004, 446–448. 29. See Jin Zhengyao’s essay “Daoist Alchemy in the Tang Dynasty” for an assessment of the decline of instrumental alchemy after the Tang dynasty (in Jin Zengyao 2001, 90–94). 30. Here I rely on Hu Fuchen’s study on the geological coexistence of gold and cinnabar. For details see Hu Fuchen and Lü Xichen 2004, 452. 31. 又化作之金, 乃是諸藥之精, 勝於自然者也。 32. Pregadio 1991, 597–600. 33. The cosmological change from Dao to myriad things is not strictly a once-and-for-all event, but an ongoing creative unfolding of Dao. 34. Sivin 1980, 292–297. 35. Hanyu da zidian 漢語大字典, 3/1648. 36. Ibid., 3/1561. 37. For an ecological understanding of the world and its origin, see Girardot, Liu, and Miller 2001. 38. Hu Fuchen and Lü Xichen 2004, 463. 39. 非原始見終者, 不能得其情狀也。 40. In his essay “Dark Matter Fills the Cosmos” ( June 1999), Paul Preuss responds to an article titled “The Cosmic Triangle: Revealing the State of the Universe” in the May 28, 1999, issue of the journal Science. A group of cosmologists and physicists from Princeton University and Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory wrote that a range of evidence “is forcing us to consider the possibility that some cosmic dark energy exists that opposes the self-attraction of matter and causes the expansion of the universe to accelerate.” The leader of the Supernova Cosmology Project headquartered at Berkeley Lab, Saul Perlmutter, also supports this view by saying, “The universe is made mostly of dark matter and dark energy.” For details see http://www.lbl.gov/Science-Articles/ Archive/dark-energy.html (accessed June 2006). 41. For details see http://particleadventure.org/particleadventure/ frameless/supersymmetry.html (accessed June 2006). 42. For explanatory details see http://www.lns.cornell.edu/public/lab -info/quark.html (accessed June 2006). 43. For details see “Introduction to Supersymmetry” by Hitoshi Murayama at http://hitoshi.berkeley.edu/public_html/susy/susy.html (accessed June 2006). 44. Michael Dine, “Supersymmetry Phenomenology” (Santa Cruz Institute for Particle Physics, University of California, Santa Cruz), from http://arxiv .org/abs/hep-ph/9612389 (accessed June 2006). 45. The Chinese Five Phases is a sophisticated system of change, which cannot be covered in detail here. Here the discussion only serves a comparative purpose. The system of change originates from the ancient Book of Changes. Prior to Ge Hong, it was developed in the cosmology of Yang Xiong 楊雄 in



notes to pages 278–303345

his Taixuan 太玄, the alchemy of Wei Poyang 魏泊陽 in his Can Tong Qi 參同 契, and the ethics of Dong Zhongshu 董仲舒 in his Chunqiu fanlu 春秋繁露. 46. Together with the other four shapes shown in Figure 9.6, this figure is presented in Lee’s commentary notes, which rely on Cornford’s study. Lee 1965, 77; Cornford 1935a [1977], 218–219. 47. Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies VII xxix 14–23, in Barnes 1987, 116. 48. Cornford 1935a [1977], 211, 212. 49. Here I follow Lee’s commentating note. Lee 1965, 80, footnote 1. 50. Cornford 1935a [1977], 199–202, 228–229. 51. The metaphor comes from a story. The female emperor Ci Xi 慈禧太后 of the Qing dynasty ruled male officials by sitting behind a curtain. 52. Cornford has argued exhaustively the merits of differently sized particles, but he has overlooked the key issue of how the unbalanced masses function as the continuity “from the four to the many” (Cornford 1935a [1977], 230–239).

Bibliography

Allen, R. E. 1997. Plato’s Parmenides. Revised ed. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Aristotle. 1996. The Physics. Translated by Robin Waterfield. Oxford: Oxford University Press. ———. 1998. The Metaphysics. Translated by H. Lawson-Tancred. Middlesex: Penguin. Barnes, Jonathan. 1987. Early Greek Philosophy. 2nd ed. London: Penguin Books. Beijing Daxue Zhexuexi Zhongguo Zhexue Jiaoyanshi 北京大學哲學系中國 哲學敎硏室. 2001. Zhongguo zhexueshi 中國哲學史. Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe. Bokenkamp, Stephen R., and Peter S. Nickerson. 1997. Early Daoist Scriptures. Berkeley: University of California Press. Bostock, David. 1986. Plato’s Phaedo. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Brandwood, L. 1990. The Chronology of Plato’s Dialogues. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Brumbaugh, Robert S. 1961. Plato on the One: The Hypotheses in the Parmenides. New Haven: Yale University Press. Burnet, John. 1930. Early Greek Philosophy. 4th ed. London: A. & C. Black. Campany, Robert Ford. 2002. To Live as Long as Heaven and Earth: A Translation and Study of Ge Hong’s Traditions of Divine Transcendents. Berkeley: University of California Press. Chang Minyi 常敏毅. 2003. Ge Hong’s Great Contributions in Medical Sciences. Paper read at the First International Conference on Ge Hong and Chinese Culture, Zhejiang University, Ningbo. Chen Feilong 陳飛龍. 2002. Baopuzi neiwaipian jinzhu jinyi 抱樸子內外篇今註 今譯. 2 vols. Taibei: Shangwu yinshuguan. ———. 2003. The Chronicle of Ge Hong’s Life. Paper read at rhe First International Conference on Ge Hong and Chinese Culture, Zhejiang University, Ningbo. Chen Guofu 陳國符. 1963. Daozang yuanliu kao 道藏源流考. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju. ———. 1983. Daozang yuanliu xukao 道藏源流續考. Taibei: Mingwen shuju. 347

348

bibliography

———. 1997. Zhongguo waidan huangbaifa kao 中國外丹黃白法考. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe. Chen Jiujin 陳久金. 1978. Huntian Shuo de fazhan lishi xintan 渾天說的發展 歷史新探. In Keiji shi wenji 科技史文集, edited by Zhongguo Tianwenxue Shi Zhengli Yanjiu Xiaozu 中國天文史整理研究小組. Shanghai: Shanghai keji chubanshe. Chen Zungui 陳遵媯. 1980. Zhongguo tianwenxue shi 中國天文學史. 4 vols. Shanghai: Shanghai renmin chubanshe. Cheng Zhongying 成中英. 1991. Shiji zhijiao di jueze: lun zhongxi zhexue di hui­ tong yu ronghe 世紀之交的抉擇: 論中西哲學的會通與融合. Shanghai: Zhishi chubanshe. Cornford, Francis M. 1935a [1977]. Plato’s Cosmology. Indianapolis and Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company. ———. 1935b. Plato’s Theory of Knowledge: The Theaetetus and the Sophist of Plate Translated with a Running Commentary. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd. ———. 1939. Plato and Parmenides: Parmenides’ Way of Truth and Plato’s Parmenides. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. ———. 1941 [1955]. The Republic of Plato. Oxford: Clarendon. ———. 1965. Mathematics and Dialectic in the Republic VI–VII. In Studies in Plato’s Metaphysics, edited by R. E. Allen. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Cross, R. C., and A. D. Woozley. 1964. Plato’s Republic: A Philosophical Commentary. London: Macmillan & Company Ltd. Cullen, Christopher, Chun-feng Li, Shuang Chao, Luan Chen, and Hui Liu. 1996. Astronomy and Mathematics in Ancient China: The Zhou bi suan jing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Daozang 道藏. 1987. Beijing: Wenwu chubanshe; Shanghai: Shanghai shudian; Tianjin: Tianjin guji chubanshe. Davis, Tenney, and Lu-chiang Wu. 1930. Chinese Alchemy. The Scientific Monthly Massachusetts Institute of Technology 31 (September): 225–235. Dean-Jones, Lesley. 2000. Aristotle’s Understanding of Plato’s Receptacle and Its Significance for Aristotle’s Theory of Familial Resemblance. In Reason and Necessity, edited by M. R. Wright. London: Gerald Duckworth and the Classical Press of Wales. Devereux, Daniel T. 1994. Separation and Immanence in Plato’s Theory of Forms. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 12: 63–90. Ding Fubao 丁福保. n.d. Daozang jinghua lu 道藏精華錄. 12 vols. Shanghai: Wuxi dingshi. Dorter, Kenneth. 1994. Form and Good in Plato’s Eleatic Dialogues: The Parmenides, Theaetetus, Sophist, and Statesman. Berkeley: University of California Press. Fang Xuanling 房玄齡. 1990. Xinjiaoben Jinshu bing fubian liuzhong 新校本晉書 並附編六種. 7th ed. Taibei: Dingwen shuju. Fine, Gail. 1984. Separation. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 2: 31–87.



bibliography349

———. 1986. Immanence. Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 4: 71–97. ———. 1999. Plato, Oxford Readings in Philosophy. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. ———. 2003. Plato on Knowledge and Forms. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Gao Yongwei, ed. 1985. A New English-Chinese Dictionary. 2nd edition. S ­ hanghai: Shanghai Translation Publishing House. Ge Hong 葛洪. 1991. Shenxian zhuan 神仙傳. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju. Ge Hong 葛洪, He Tang 何鏜, and Wang Mo 王謨. 1880. Zhenzhong shu 枕中 書. 1 vol. Hanwei congshu 漢魏叢書 59. China: Lianjiang Wangshi shugu shanzhuang 練江汪氏述古山莊. Ge Xuan 葛玄, Heshang Gong 河上公, Yan Zun 嚴遵, Gu Shenzi 穀神子, and Wang Bi 王弼. 1977. Daodejing mingzhu xuanji 道德經名注選集. Vol. 1. Taibei: Zhongguo zixue mingzhu jicheng bianyin jijinhui. Girardot, N. J., Xiaogan Liu, and James Miller. 2001. Daoism and Ecology: Ways within a Cosmic Landscape. Cambridge, MA: Center for the Study of World Religions, distributed by Harvard University Press. Graham, A. C. 1989. Disputers of the Tao: Philosophical Argument in Ancient China. Chicago: Open Court. ———. 1990. Studies in Chinese Philosophy and Philosophical Literature. Albany: State University of New York Press. Gu Jiu 顧久. 1995. Baopuzi neipian quanyi 抱撲子內篇全譯. Guiyang: Guizhou renmin chubanshe. Hall, David, and Roger Ames. 1987. Thinking Through Confucius. Albany: State University of New York Press. He Shuzhen 何淑貞. 2002. Xinbian Baopuzi neipian 新編抱撲子內篇. Taibei: Dingwen shuju. Henricks, Robert G. 1989. Lao Tzu Te-Tao Ching: A New Translation Based on the Recently Discovered Ma-Wang-Tui Texts. New York: Ballantine Books. Hippolytus, Antipope. 1868, The Refutation of All Heresies Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. Holm, David. 1990. Art and Ideology in Revolutionary China. Oxford and New York: Clarendon Press. Honderich, Ted, ed. 2005. The Oxford Companion to Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hu Fuchen 胡孚琛. 1989. Weijin shenxian daojiao 魏晉神仙道教. Beijing: Renmin chubanshe. Hu Fuchen 胡孚琛 and Lü Xichen 呂錫琛. 2004. Daoxue tonglun 道學通論. Revised ed. Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe. Huang Hui 黃暉. 1990. Lunheng jiaoshi 論衡較釋. 4 vols. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju. Irwin, Terence. 1977. Plato’s Moral Theory. Oxford: Clarendon Press. ———. 1994. Plato’s Ethics. New York: Oxford University Press. Jiang Sheng 姜生 and Tang Weixia 湯偉俠, eds. 2002. Zhongguo daojiao kexue

350

bibliography

jishu shi: Hanwei liangjin juan 中國道教科學技術史：漢魏兩晉卷. ­Beijing: Kexue chubanshe. Jin Zhengyao 金正耀. 2001. Daojiao yu liandashu lun 道教與煉丹術論. Beijing: Zongjiao wenhua chubanshe. Johansen, T. K. 2004. Plato’s Natural Philosophy: A Study of the Timaeus-Critias. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kang Zhongqian 康中乾. 2003. Youwu zhi bian 有無之辨. Beijing: Renmin chu­ banshe. Kenny, Anthony. 1973. The Anatomy of the Soul: Historical Essays in the Philosophy of Mind. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Keyt, David. 1971. The Philosophical Review, vol. 80, no. 2 (Apr.), 230–235. Kirk, G. S. Raven, J. E. 1957. The Presocratic Philosophers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kohn, Livia. 1991. Taoist Mystical Philosophy: The Scripture of Western Ascension. Albany: State University of New York Press. ———. 2000. Daoism Handbook. Leiden and Boston: Brill. Kraut, Richard, ed. 1992. Cambridge Companion to Plato. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 1999. Return to the Cave: Republic 519–521. In Plato 2: Ethics, Politics, Religion, and the Soul, edited by G. Fine. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. Lagerwey, John. 1981. Wu-shang Pi-yao: somme taoïste du VI-siècle. Paris: École française d’Extrême-Orient. ———. 1987. Taoist Ritual in Chinese Society and History. New York and London: Macmillan. Lee, H. D. P. 1965 [1971]. Timaeus and Critias. Middlesex: Penguin Books. Li, Chenyang. 1999. The Tao Encounters the West: Explorations in Comparative Philosophy. Albany: State University of New York Press. Li Dahua 李大華. 2001. Shengming cunzai yu jingjie chaoyue 生命存在與境界超 越. Shanghai: Shanghai wenhua chubanshe. Li Dahua 李大華, Li Gang 李剛, and He Jianming 何建明. 2003. Sui Tang daojia yu daojiao 隋唐道家與道教. 2 vols. Guangzhou: Guangdong renmin chubanshe. Li Gang 李剛. 1995. Handai daojiao zhexue 漢代道教哲學. Chengdu: Bashu shushe. Li Xiaoguang 李小光. 2002. Shengsi chaoyue yu renjian guanhuai 生死超越與人 間關懷. Chengdu: Bashu shushe. Li Zeng 李增. 1997. Huainanzi zhexue sixiang yanjiu 淮南子哲學思想硏究. Taibei: Hongye wenhua shiyi youxian gongsi. Li Zhilin 李志林. 1988. Zhongxi zhexue bijiao mianmian guan 中西哲學比較面面 觀. Shanghai: Huadong shifan daxue chubanshe. Lin Li-chen 林麗真, ed. 2005. Bibliography of Research on Wei-Jin Xuan Xue Philosophy 魏晉玄學研究論著目錄 (1884–2004). 2 vols. Taibei: Center for Chinese Studies.



bibliography351

Liu Kangde 劉康德. 2001. Huainanzi zhijie 淮南子直解. Shanghai: Fudan daxue chubanshe. Loewe, Michael. 1979. Ways to Paradise: The Chinese Quest for Immortality. London and Boston: Allen & Unwin. Lou Yulie 樓宇烈. 1980. Wang Bi ji jiaoshi 王弼集校釋. 2 vols. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju. Lü Pengzhi 呂鵬志. 2000. Daojiao zhexue 道教哲學. Taibei: Wenjin chubanshe. Ma Yongqing 馬永卿. 1984. Lanzhenzi 懶真子. In Baizi quanshu 百字全書, edited by Saoye shanfang 掃葉山房. Hangzhou: Zhejiang renmin chu­­ banshe. McGrath, Alister E. 1994. Christian Theology. Oxford: Blackwell. Moltmann, Jürgen. 1985. God in Creation. Translated by M. Kohl. London: SCM Press. Needham, Joseph. 1954–2003. Science and Civilisation in China. Vols. 1–7. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 1960. Heavenly Clockwork: The Great Astronomical Clocks of Medieval China. Cambridge: The Antiquarian Horological Society at the University Press. ———. 1968. Order and Life. Cambridge, MA: M.I.T. Press. ———. 1971. The Refiner’s Fire; the Enigma of Alchemy in East and West: The Second J. D. Bernal Lecture, Delivered at Birkbeck College, London, 4th February 1971. London: Birkbeck College. ———. 1981. Science in Traditional China: A Comparative Perspective. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. ———. 2001. Zhongguo gudai kexue 中國古代科學 Translated by Li Yan 李彥. Shanghai: Shanghai shudian. Nehamas, Alexander. 1999. Plato on the Imperfection of the Sensible World. In Plato 1: Metaphysics and Epistemology, edited by G. Fine. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Neville, Robert Cummings. 1992. God the Creator: On the Transcendence and Presence of God. Albany: State University of New York Press. Nienhauser, William H. 1986. The Indiana Companion to Traditional Chinese Literature. 2 vols. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Nylan, Michael, trans. 1993. The Canon of Supreme Mystery. By Yang Hsiung. Albany: State University of New York Press. ———. 1994. The Elemental Changes: The Ancient Chinese Companion to the I Ching. Albany: State University of New York Press. Owen, G. E. L. 1999. Plato on Not-Being. In Plato 1: Metaphysics and Epistemology, edited by G. Fine. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. Plato. 1955. The Republic. Translated by D. Lee. Middlesex: Penguin Books. ———. 1965. Timaeus and Critias. Translated by D. Lee. Middlesex: Penguin Books. ———. 1997. Complete Works. Edited by John M. Cooper and D. S. Hutchinson. Indianapolis and Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company.

352

bibliography

Plato and Samuel Scolnicov. 2003. Plato’s Parmenides. Berkeley and London: University of California Press. Pregadio, Fabrizio. 1991. The Book of the Nine Elixirs and Its Tradition. In Yamada Keiji and Tanaka Tan, edited by C. K. K. Shiron. Kyoto: Kyōto daigaku jinbun kagaku kenkyujō. Qian Baocong 錢寶琮. 1998. Gaitian Shuo yuanliu kao 蓋天說源流考. In Kexue shi quanji dijiu juan 科學史全集第九卷, edited by Qian Baocong 錢寶琮 and Zai Liyan 載李儼. Shenyang: Liaoning jiaoyu chubanshe. Qing Xitai 卿希泰 ed. 1996. Zhongguo daojiao shi 中國道教史. 4 vols. Chengdu: Sichuan renmin chubanshe. Reeve, C. D. C. 1988. Philosopher-Kings. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Ren Jiyu 任繼愈. 1963. Zhongguo zhexue shi 中國哲學史. 4 vols. Beijing: Renmin chubanshe. Reydams-Schils, Gretchen J. 2002. Plato’s Timaeus as Cultural Icon. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. Robinet, Isabelle. 1997. Taoism: Growth of a Religion. Translated by P. Brooks. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Robinson, Richard G. F. 1953. Plato’s Earlier Dialectic. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Rong Zhiyi 容志毅. 1998. Zhongguo liandanshu kaolüe 中國煉丹術考略. Shanghai: Sanlian shudian. Ross, W. D. 1951. Plato’s Theory of Ideas. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Runciman, W. G. 1965 [1959]. Plato’s Parmenides. In Studies in Plato’s Metaphysics, edited by R. E. Allen. London, New York: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Ryle, Gilbert. 1965. Plato’s Parmenides. In Studies in Plato’s Metaphysics, edited by R. E. Allen. London and New York: Routledge & Kegan Paul and The Humanities Press. Schipper, Kristofer. 1975. Concordance du Houang-ting king: nei-king et wai-king. Paris: École française d’ Extrême-Orient. ———. 1993. The Taoist Body. Berkeley: University of California Press. Schipper, Kristofer, and Chen Jiaran. 1965. Baopuzi neipian tongjian 抱撲子內 篇通檢. Paris: Bali daxue hanxue yanjiusuo. Schipper, Kristofer, and Franciscus Verellen. 2004. The Taoist Canon: A Historical Companion to the Daozang. 3 vols. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Shanghai Zhongxi Zhexue yu Wenhua Bijiao Yanjiuhui 上海中西哲學與文 化研究會, ed. 2000. 20 shiji mo de wenhua shenshi 20 世紀末的文化審視. Shanghai: Xuelin chubanshe. Shorey, Paul. 1965. What Plato Said. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Sivin, Nathan. 1968. Chinese Alchemy: Preliminary Studies. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. ———. 1969. Cosmos and Computation in Early Chinese Mathematical Astronomy. Leiden: Brill. ———. 1980. The Theoretical Background of Elixir Alchemy. In Science and



bibliography353

Civilisation in China, edited by J. Needham. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 1995. Medicine, Philosophy and Religion in Ancient China: Researches and Reflections. Aldershot and Brookfield, VT: Variorum. ———. 1995. Science in Ancient China: Researches and Reflections. Aldershot and Brookfield, VT: Variorum. Stokes, Michael C. 1971. One and Many in Presocratic Philosophy. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies. distributed by Harvard University Press. Tang Rushan 唐如山. 1962. The Theory of Round Heaven and Flat Earth by Zhang Heng and Other Huntian Scholars 张衡等浑天家的天圆地平说. Collected Essays on the History of Sciences 科學史集刊, 4th issue. Tang Yijie 湯一介. 1988. Wei Jin nanbeichao shiqi de daojiao 魏晉南北朝時期的道 敎. Xi’an: Shanxi shifan daxue chubanshe. ———. 2003. Ge Hong and the School of Xuan 葛洪與魏晉玄學. Paper read at The First International Conference on Ge Hong and Chinese Culture, Zhejiang University, Ningbo. Tang Yongtong 湯用彤. 2001. Wei Jin Xuanxue lungao 魏晉玄學論稿. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe. Taylor, A. E. 1956. Plato: The Man and His Work. New York: Meridian Books. Vlastos, Gregory, ed. 1970. Metaphysics and Epistemology. New York: Doubleday, Anchor Books. ———. 1987. “Separation” in Plato. In Plato: Critical Assessments, edited by N. D. Smith. London and New York: Routledge. ———. 1991. Socrates, Ironist and Moral Philosopher. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Wagner, Rudolf G. 2003. A Chinese Reading of the Daodejing. Albany: State University of New York. Wang, Aihe. 2000. Cosmology and Political Culture in Early China. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press. Wang Chengwen 王承文. 2003. Ge Hong wannian yinju Luofushan shiji shizheng 葛洪晚年隱居羅浮山事蹟釋證. Paper read at The First International Conference on Ge Hong and Chinese Culture, Zhejiang University, Ningbo. Wang Kuike 王奎克. 1964. Zhongguo liandanshu de “Jinye” he Huachi 中國 煉丹術的“金液 ”和華池. Chinese Journal on the History of Science 7: 53. Wang Miaoyang 王淼洋 and Fan Mingsheng 範明生 1994. Dongxifang zhexue bijiao yanjiu 東西方哲學比較研究. Shanghai: Shanghai jiaoyu chubanshe. Wang Ming 王明. 1980. Baopuzi neipian jiaoshi 抱撲子內篇校釋. Beijing: Zhong­ hua shuju. ———, ed. 1997. Taiping jing hejiao 太平經合校. 2 vols. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju. Wang Qing 王青. 2000. Yang Xiong pingzhuan 楊雄評傳. Edited by Kuang ­Yaming 匡亞明. Vol. 23. Nanjing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe.

354

bibliography

Wang Shizhen 王世貞. 1996. Liexian quanzhuan 列仙全傳. Shijiazhuang: Hebei meishu chubanshe. Ware, James R., and Ge Hong. 1966. Alchemy, Medicine, and Religion in the China of A.D. 320: The Nei pien of Ko Hung (Pao-pu tzu). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Wheatley, Paul. 1971. The Pivot of the Four Quarters: A Preliminary Enquiry into the Origins and Character of the Ancient Chinese City. Chicago: Aldine P ­ ublishing Company. White, Nicholas P. 1976. Plato on Knowledge and Reality. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company. Wright, M. R., ed. 2000. Reason and Necessity. London: Duckworth and The Classical Press of Wales. Wu, Kuang-ming. 1997. On Chinese Body Thinking: A Cultural Hermeneutic. Lei­ den and New York: Brill. Xiang Shiling 向世陵. 2004. Zhongguo xueshu tongshi, weijin nanbeichao juan 中國學術通史, 魏晉南北朝卷. Edited by Zhang Liwen 張立文. Beijing: Renmin chubanshe. Xiao Tianshi 蕭天石, ed. 1977. Daodejing mingzhu xuanji 道德經名注選集. Taibei: Zhongguo zixue mingzhu jicheng bianyin jijinhui. Xu Jie 许洁. 1999. Zhang Heng pingzhuan 張衡評傳. Nanjing: Nanjing daxue chubanshe. Yang Hsiung. 1993. The Canon of Supreme Mystery. Translated by M. Nylan. Albany: State University of New York Press. Yang Mingzhao 楊明照. 1991, 1997. Baopuzi waipian jiaojian 抱樸子外篇校箋. 2 vols. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju. Yang Ruzhou 楊汝舟. 1983. Daojia sixiang yu xifang zhexue 道家思想與西方哲 學. Taibei: Zhongyang wenwu gongyingshe. Yin Zhenhuan 尹振環. 2001. Chujian Laozi bianxi 楚簡老子辨析. Beijing: Zhong­hua shuju. You Xinxiong 尤信雄. 1977. Ge Hong pingzhuan 葛洪評傳. Taibei: Wenjin chu­ banshe. Zhang Jiyu 张继禹. 2004. Zhonghua Daozang 中华道藏. Beijing: Huaxia chu­ banshe. Zhang Zailin 張再林. 1999. Wo yu ni he wo yu ta: Zhongxi shehui bentilun bijiao yanjiu 我與你和我與它: 中西社會本體論比較硏究. Xi’an: Xibei daxue chubanshe. Zhao Kuanghua 趙匡華, ed. 1985. Zhongguo gudai huaxueshi yanjiu 中國古代化 學史硏究. Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe. ———. 1996. Zhongguo gudai huaxue 中國古代化學. Beijing: Shangwu yinshu­­guan. Zhao Kuanghua 趙匡華 and Lu Jiaxi 盧嘉錫. 1998. Zhongguo kexue jishu shi: Huaxue juan 中國科學技術史: 化學卷. Beijing: Kexue chubanshe. Zheng Wenguang 鄭文光. 1979. Zhongguo tianwenxue yuanliu 中國天文學源流. Beijing: Kexue chubanshe.



bibliography355

Zhongguo Daojiao Xiehui 中國道教協會, ed. 1995. Daojiao shenxian huaji 道教 神仙畫集. Beijing: Huaxia chubanshe. Zhou Shaoxian 周紹賢 and Liu Guijie 劉貴傑. 1996. Weijin zhexue 魏晉哲學. Taibei: Wunan tushu. Zhu Xi 朱熹. 1996. Zhou yi 周易. In Sishu wujin 四書五經. Beijing: Beijing guji chubanshe.

Index

Academy, 45, 88, 138, 150, 323–324 air: Anaximenes’ changeable matter, 34; mathematical interpretation, 273, 277, 290, 307; as mathematical particle, 277, 289, 292, 294–305; one of four Empedocles’ elements, 273, 275; Thales’ primal matter, 33 alchemy: astronomy and, 199; bodily, xxiii, 66, 186, 264; and chemistry, xix, xxii, 238–240, 245–246, 251, 253–254, 258, 311–312; instrumental, xvii, xxiv, 8, 19, 58–59, 104, 114, 121, 130, 183, 195, 197, 240, 242, 253–254, 257, 264, 283, 311–312; internal (Inner), 59, 65–67, 72, 183, 209, 244, 249, 253–254; lineage, 238, 240–242, 246; and physics, 257–258, 265–266, 269, 317; theoretical, 10, 19, 122 Anaximander, xvii, 33–34, 254; biology, 33–34 Anaximenes, xvii, 33–34 Aquinas, 56 Aristotle: biological simile, 170; on change, 255; criticism of Plato’s theory of Forms, 48, 88, 150, 320; doctrine of substance, 309; geocentric worldview, 281; on Presocratic ideas, 33–34, 36, 41, 222, 255; the Third Man Argument, 40, 150, 165 Armillary Sphere, 15, 183–185, 190, 194–197, 205, 214–216, 280 art: of elixir making, 239; of healing, 60; and iconography, 104; Plato’s nega-

tive view of, 81; of revealing the self, 64; of ruling, 137 ascension, 125 astronomy, xxii–xxiii, 65, 94, 184, 189–190, 192–194, 196, 281; and alchemy, 190, 197, 199; Chinese, 16, 200; empirical, 15, 195, 202, 210; g ­ eocentrism, 14, 200; infinitespace, 283; instrumental, 14, 18–19, 31; mathematical, 95–97, 205, 214, 216; and music, 81; observatory, 283; physiology and, 105, 216; three ­theories of, 189 Athens: City of, 138, 155; School of, 325 atomism: critique of, 231; Democritus, 287; material pluralism, 37, 148; problem of pluralism, 288, 290, 316; space and void, 262, 303 Augustine, 102 Being and Becoming: xvii, 37, 44–45, 49–51, 75, 84, 147, 153, 172, 218, 220, 237, 262, 277–278, 286, 304, 306, 311–313 benti, xvi, 177 biology, 17, 66, 106–107, 256, 272 body: alchemical, 70–73, 76–77, 117, 170, 186, 259; body-soul, 107, 109; body-state unity, 133–135, 137, 139– 141; Buddhist, 68; celestial, 118–119; Daoist, xxiii; as empty vessel, 98, 262; physical, xxiv, 57, 60, 253, 264; Platonic, 158, 217–218; and the spirit,

357

358

index

xxv, 64, 69, 74, 119, 123, 125, 129, 132–133, 144, 177, 188, 256; of the universe, 64, 217–219, 223, 272–273, 277–278, 280–282, 284, 286, 301, 304, 309; World Body, 131, 218, 228 Book of Changes, 6, 9–10, 14, 19, 26, 30, 34, 207 breath: breathing like a fetus, 186; of the cosmos, 62, 64; of the great beginning, 1, 28, 53; pattern, 66, 74; the rhythm of, 73 Buddhist: enlightenment, 132; otherworldly transcendence, 108; soteriology, 253–254; Three Realms, 118; view of the body, 68 celestial: axis, 203, 216; bodies, 69, 73–74, 96, 119, 164, 184–187, 194, 206, 208–209, 215, 217–218; center, 18; clock, 16, 96, 199, 215, 220; ­equator, 192, 194; gods, 119, 121; movements, 18–19, 75, 95, 186–187, 194, 205; poles, 192, 227; time, 119, 197, 199, 203, 205; world, 68–69, 73, 119 chance, 75, 288, 295–296 change: alchemical, 129, 197, 199, 243, 253, 255–257, 264–265, 276, 279, 284–285, 306; Anaximander’s ­biology, 33–34; Aristotle’s substantial, 255; “Change is the principle of Nature,” 19, 30, 75, 176, 246, 284; cosmogonical, 17, 169, 172, 255, 271, 306–307; Empedocles’ (mixing elements), 274–276; evolutionary, 57; Heraclitus’ (changing river), 34–35, 37–38, 100, 255; and life, 254, 256–258, 264, 271, 312; motion and rest, 213, 283–285, 296, 304; noncontradiction principle (Plato), 84, 87, 154; particle theory (Plato), 286, 288, 304–306, 308, 312; Pythagorean (numbers), 222–223, 225, 277, 290; the Soul as the cause of, 282, 284;

Thales (meteorological), 33; as transformation of matter, 19, 258. See also “from nothing into being” chaos: of Necessity, 171; order over, 169–171, 301; primordial, 43, 89, 137, 171, 173, 261, 286–288, 302, 316. See also Necessity Chen Guofu, 238, 240, 253 Chunqiu fanlu, 20, 201 cinnabar, 34, 147, 197, 247, 250–251, 253, 257, 307; fields, 65–70 “Commentary on the Armillary Sphere,” 183 Confucianism: xxii, 20, 108–109, 113, 142, 254, 322; New Confucianism, xxii, 322; New Text Confucianism, 19, 30, 142 Constellations, 17, 185, 192, 194, 197, 216; the Twenty-Eight, 2, 15–17, 25, 119, 183–184, 192 Cornford, F. M.: mathematical structure of matter, 289–290; the mathematics of the Soul, 225; on Parmenides, 40, 47; unchangeable Forms, 87; the World Soul, 222 cosmogony, 2, 4–5, 17, 21–22, 27–28, 30, 56, 143, 170, 174, 181, 210, 258; and cosmology, 22, 143, 182–183, 185, 190, 213; Ge Hong’s, xvi, xxv, 4, 69, 118, 169, 172, 176–177, 186, 316; Heraclitus’, 35; instrumental, 200, 312; Laozi’s, xv, 20, 28; of the Milesian School, 36; in modern physics, 265; ontology and, 22, 181; reenactment of, 261; soteriology-cosmogony, xvii, 129, 177; theogony and, 56, 118, 143, 172, 185, 316. See also alchemy; change; cosmology cosmology: “egg,” 190; empirical study of, 200; Gaitian, 259; geocentric, 184, 283; of the Han period, 23; Huntian, 189; of the infinite universe; 222; mathematical, 222; modern, 267; Parmenidean, 280; Plato’s, 79, 212, 216



index359

Creation ex nihilo, xvi, 56, 174 crucible, 19, 34–35, 72, 74, 197, 199–200, 211, 245, 250, 301, 303, 309; body and, 74; called hundun, 261; earthenware, 247, 249; intel­ lectual, 319, 321; and the universe, 258 Daodejing, 22, 28, 76 death, 88, 107, 109–111, 128; life after, 104, 106–107, 131–133; life and, 63, 110, 114; life without, 104–106; Socrates’, 132, 313; Wang Chong on, 113, 114 degeneration, 114, 227, 275–276, 295, 299 democracy, 138–139, 322 Democritus, 36, 287 Dong Zhongshu, 20, 201–202 dualism: cause and caused, 89; Form/ sensible, xvii; good and evil, 159; Parmenidean, 45; primordial, 181 earth: earth-cube, 277, 289, 292–297, 299; one of elementals, 33–34, 36, 286, 299; one of Five Phases, 201, 227, 275, 283; flat, 15, 189, 192, 200, 202, 207; planet, 15, 18, 72, 184–187, 203, 206, 208–209, 215–216, 219, 235, 283; square, 189. See also heaven: and earth egg: alchemical, 199–200, 254, 256– 257, 262, 271, 279, 283–284, 306; ­cosmological, 186, 188, 210, 227, 234; instrumental, 195, 197, 246, 253; precosmic, 186–188, 213, 227; theory, 15, 184–186, 191, 200, 207–209, 234–235, 237 Eleatic School, 44, 79 elements: chemical, 246, 255–256; Empedocles’, 36–37, 212–213, 255–256, 269, 273–288, 290–291, 297, 302–303, 307–309, 311–312, 320; of Forms, 219; mathematical (Plato), 289, 292, 294–301, 304–307, 312;

of the soul, 216, 220, 229. See also Empedocles elixir: bodily, 70, 72, 98, 264; field, 66, 72, 98, 264; Golden Liquor, 240, 242–244; Nine-Cycle, 247–248, 250, 258, 262, 264, 270; Returned, 244–247, 249–251, 253. See also ­cinnabar: fields Empedocles, 36–37, 255–256, 269, 273–277, 279–280, 282, 284, 286–288, 292, 296, 298, 304, 306–307, 311–312; Love and Strife, 274–277, 282, 284, 287–289, 290, 304, 312, 319 emperor, 133, 135, 139–142, 147–150, 153, 231, 261 enlightenment: bodily, 72, 108, 142, 254; Buddhist, 108, 132, 254; intellectual, 52, 92, 98, 108, 133, 319; state of, 26, 64; the “Way of Opinion” to the “Way of Truth,” 35; Zhuangzi, 64 epistemology: Ge Hong, 27, 53; Laozi, 26; Parmenides, 86; Plato, 51, 81–82, 91–92; Zhuangzi, 63 equality: algebraic, 220; Athenian, 102; to its Nature, 64 eternity, 116, 133, 214–215 ethics: Confucian, 108, 111, 113–114, 142, 201, 294; Ge Hong’s, 114, 115, 131, 134, 142; Platonic, 91, 104, 110, 135–136, 142, 216–217, 220, 323; Socratic, 38, 47 evil, 156–158, 217; good and, 36, 84, 120, 156, 159–160; and not-being, 156, 158–159 fangshi, 60, 76 fangshu, xxiii, 60, 62, 76 fate, 114, 132 fire: alchemical, 35, 255, 305, 306, 320–321; bodily, 73–74; chaff, 250; chamber of, 70; coal, 250; Firepyramid, 277, 289, 292–298; one of the Five Phases, 227, 275, 299; (one of Four Elements, 33, 273–286, 288;

360

index

gentle (wenhuo), 250; Heraclitus’ ­irreducible, xvii, 34–35; intense (wuhuo), 250 Five Phases, 10, 14, 201–202, 227, 256, 274–276, 283–284, 292, 295–296, 301, 307 flux (Platonic interpretation of Heraclitus), 38, 45, 83, 212; theory (Heraclitus), 34–35, 38–39, 283–284 “from nothing into being,” xvi, xxv, 26, 29–30, 56, 143, 151, 154, 163, 169, 172, 174–176, 178–179, 188, 226, 309 fu, 197, 248. See also talismans Gaitian (cosmology), 15–16, 189–190, 192, 200, 202–207, 210–211, 259–260, 290, 294 Ge Xuan, 28–29 genealogy, 4–5, 17, 129–130, 162, 210, 320 generation (as positive change), 92–93, 130, 154, 161, 163, 166–168, 172–173, 181, 227, 275–276, 306 geometry: analytical, 282, 285; Anaximander’s, 33; celestial, 95; plane and solid, 94, 216, 223, 278–279, 286, 293 God, xvi, xxi, xxiii, 2–3, 24, 42, 55–57, 91, 102, 106, 116, 174, 176, 267, 271, 325 gods: Empedocles’ mortal and immortal, 287; internal, 65, 134; natural, 68–70, 73–74, 111, 117–121, 123, 128–130; primordial, 117–118, 129; in Timaeus, 217 Good (the Form of), 42, 80, 91–94, 99, 103, 110, 131, 145–146, 149–150, 170, 176 Grand Purity, 240, 242, 246–248 Guo Xiang, 20–21 hagiography, 115–116, 123, 125, 128 Han dynasty, 19, 60, 184, 186, 248 harmony: astronomical, 70; bodily, 70; Confucian (social), 108, 134–135; cosmic, 96, 149; formless, 25; of the

Good, 95, 150; indeterminate, 232; musical, 96; participatory, 231; political, 149–150, 170–171, 181, 228, 232, 276; psychological, 217; relational, 221, 229; with the surroundings, 65, 69, 73–74; a system of, 44; three elements (of the soul), 137, 220; transcendental, 82; a unity of, 150–151, 170–171, 276; of the World-Soul, 82; of Xuan-Qi, 188. See also unity He Yan, 20 heaven: and earth, 5–6, 23, 25, 53, 57, 64, 154, 165, 184–185, 201–203, 205, 208, 210, 277, 323, 325; the nine heavens, 1, 6, 209, 248; the realm of, xxiii, 1, 5, 9, 15, 18, 53, 57, 70, 72, 116, 125, 135, 183–189, 192, 199, 201–203, 207–208, 210, 247, 325; rotation of, 16, 187, 206, 208; spherical (Plato’s), 283, 295 Heraclitus, xvii, 34–35, 37–39, 56, 83, 87, 100, 254–255, 280, 283–284, 311. See also change; fire; flux Heshang gong, 60 hierarchy: of (immortal) beings, 116, 118; the linear, 79, 272; one over many, 94, 103; ontological, 138; psychological, 136, 216; social, 102, 113–114, 135–137, 139–140; of the three (parts of the soul), 131 Hu Fuchen, 22, 58, 69, 113 Hua Tuo, 60 Huainanzi, 58 Huntian (cosmology), 15, 19, 190, 197, 200, 206–208, 210–211 immortal: beings, 7, 69, 104–105, 108, 112, 117, 137, 142, 264, 325; humans, 121, 123, 125–129; life, 105–106, 108, 111, 113–115, 129–130, 137, 142, 228. See also gods immortality: arguments on, 107–109; attain, xvii, 28, 118, 128, 248; belief in, xxv, 104, 106, 108–109; and



index361

l­ongevity, 105–106, 128; the method of, 54; physical, xxv, 104, 106–107, 256, 258; quest for, 7–8, 30; of the soul, 109–110, 132–133, 159, 313 incarnation: of the Dao, 122; of God, 56; of heaven’s order, 139; of the World Soul, 221, 310–311 indeterminate action, xviii, 54, 56, 73, 134, 162–163, 168, 211. See also wuwei infinity, 281, 290 inner environment, 68, 71, 75, 165 instrumental alchemy, xvii, xxiv, 8, 19, 58–59, 104, 114, 121, 130, 183, 195, 197, 240, 242, 253–254, 257, 264, 283, 311–312. See also alchemy; waidan intelligence, 51, 81, 83, 85, 96, 213, 234–235, 301, 309 internal alchemy, 65–66, 72, 183, 209, 242, 249, 253–254. See also alchemy; neidan Ji Kang, 20 Jin dynasty, 15, 247 Justice, the Form of, 46, 85, 89, 146, 157, 220 Lady of Taixuan, 127 Laozi, xiv–xviii, xxv, 5, 7, 17, 20–23, 26–29, 32, 54, 56, 75, 118, 121, 134, 149, 154, 162–163, 175–178, 196, 226, 232, 247, 317 law: Platonic, 135, Newtonian, 267 Leucippus, 36 Li Gang, 107 Liexian zhuan, 104 Liu An, 122, 126 longevity, xxv, 58, 62, 76, 101, 103, 105–106, 108, 114, 117–118, 123, 125, 127–128, 134, 140–141, 176, 248, 264, 271, 282 mathematics, 36, 47, 91, 96–97, 203, 205, 210, 214, 220, 222, 225, 228, 231, 312

matter: architecture of, 212, 286; dark energy and, 266–267, 269; evolution of, 269; and force, 267, 270; geometric matter particles, 267, 269, 270; and internal clock, 258, 265; and life, 57; matter-form, xxiii, 53, 63, 174, 188, 200, 209, 246, 254, 257, 262, 264–266, 306, 309; primal, 57, 262, 264, 271; the transformation of, 19, 257–258; structure of, 238, 260, 265, 272, 288 medicine, xxii–xxiii, 60, 76, 128, 133– 134, 139, 199, 229, 239–240, 253, 264 meteorological, 6, 34, 184, 208; change, 33, 298 mind: cognitive, 77, 94, 309; the divine, 213, 236–237; human, 7, 50–51, 75, 90–91, 99, 106, 217 Moltmann, Jürgen, xvi monism: alchemical, 246; Daoist, xxiv; material, 33, 39, 57, 298; ontological, xviii; Parmenides’, 45; and pluralism, xvii, 32; pre-Socratic, 153 motion: active, 303; celestial, 185, 187, 215; circular, 213, 215, 282, 284–285; heaven’s, 1, 18, 96; locomotive, 280; and rest, 213, 285, 296, 304; ultimate cause of, 218, 220, 225 Mount Luofu, 138, 324 Necessity, 158–159, 169–171, 173, 178–182, 214, 217, 219, 232–233, 261, 297, 301–302, 310, 313. See also Reason and Necessity Needham, Joseph, xxii–xxiii, 76, 189– 190, 192, 199–200, 239–240, 243, 253 neidan, xxiii. See also internal alchemy night sky, 5–6, 18, 62, 154, 164, 189, 211. See also Xuan nothingness: cultivation, 140; as the foundation of all (Hu Fuchen’s interpretation), 22; the ground of (Tang Yongtong’s interpretation), 21; Primordial, 28; and something,

362

index

xviii, 23, 113; unthinkable (Plato), 86, 88, 226; Wang Bi’s (ontology of ), 23–24, 26–27, 30; as wu, xviii, 23, 27, 28, 113, 175; of Xuan (Ge Hong), 53, 69, 183–186 numbers: odd and even, 222–224, 227, 277; Pythagorean doctrine of, 36, 95, 222 oligarchy, 138 One: cosmogonical, 22, 35, 55, 57, 161, 183, 188, 212, 270, 312, 317; formless, 29, 234; gestation of the (as Qi), 53–54, 180–181, 257; numerical, 4, 47, 99–100, 146, 148, 161, 219, 223–224, 227, 229–231, 277; Parmenidean, 35, 41, 83; preservation of the, 58, 60, 76–77, 119, 134, 140, 249; primordial (as Yi), 1, 4, 28, 53, 159, 187, 269; Real-One, 59, 64–65, 68–69, 73, 134; Xuan-One, 59–60, 62, 64, 68–69, 130, 134, 264 “one within many” (Ge Hong), 103, 134–135, 142 “one without many” (Parmenides), 39, 41–42, 50, 83 ontological degrees, 80, 94, 117 opinion/sensibles, 83, 94; opposites: dialectic, 17, 154, 161, 227, 228; logical, 25, 27, 34, 50, 85, 110, 153, 262, 274 oral instructions, 59, 247, 249–251 outer environment, 68, 73 Parmenides: Book of, 32, 39, 41, 165; denial of not-being, 145; denial of plurality, 37, 39, 83; Plato’s spokesman, 43–52; Way of Opinion, 35, 37–38, 83; Way of Truth, 35, 37–38. See also Being and Becoming; One; “one without many”; opinion/ sensibles philosopher-king, 101–103, 135–136, 138, 313

Planets: the creation of, 304; the five (in Chinese astronomy), 73, 119, 187, 201–202, 221, 227, 283; in Timaeus, 214–215, 283–284, 302 pluralism: atomist, xxiv, 288; chemical and material, 240, 246; comparative, 315; Empedocles’, 36, 273, 277, 286; monism and, xvii; postmodern, xxi, 316–317; Pythagorean, xvii, 36; religious, xv, 56 Proclus, 48, 219–220 purification ritual, 59 Pythagoras, 36, 219, 222, 289, 312 Qing dynasty, 3 Reason and Necessity, xviii, 156, 169, 170–172, 178–181, 227, 233, 297, 301, 307–313 receptacle, 170, 287, 291, 297, 300–301, 304, 309 Ruan Ji, 20 sages, 58 salvation, 56, 106 Scripture of the Yellow Chamber, 68, 76, 187 sensibles: and belief, 51, 98; the epistemological problem of, 82–83; Forms and, xviii, 39–40, 44, 49, 82–83, 153, 156, 221; and images, 82. See also opinion/sensibles sexual arts, 128 Shanhai jing, 6, 18 shenxian, xxi, 104, 116 Shenxian zhuan, xviii, xxi, 104, 115 simplicity, 20, 142, 186; the Mater Embracing, 1, 208, 247, 324 Simplicius, 33 Sivin, Nathan, 239, 252–253, 261 Song dynasty, 254 soteriology: Buddhist, 253–254; Christian, 254; cosmogony and, 129, 177; the doctrine of, 58, 258; four degrees



index363

of, 128; genealogy and, 129; religious, xxv; system of, xxv soul: disembodied, 106, 132; human, 49, 51, 95, 216–217, 219, 221, 235; just, 137; structure of, 213, 216, 222–223, 277, 279, 281; the World, 50, 82, 95–96, 131, 143, 180, 187, 212–213, 216–221, 223–225, 228, 234–235, 237, 256, 272, 280, 284, 310–311, 313; See also immortality: of the soul space: in atomism, 262; dark, 75; empty, 54, 189, 262, 303, 316; formless, 170, 262; free, xiii–xiv; indeterminate, 54, 148; infinite, 56, 62, 75, 189, 264, 283, 303; inner, 165, 318; material, 262, 264; relational, 317; threedimensional, 282–283, 286. See also time-space spontaneity, xxiv, 54, 70, 73, 75, 173, 188, 299, 302 state: awaken, 166, 180; cognitive, 77, 94; of enlightenment, 26, 64; of gestation, 33; ideal, 102, 135, 138–139; just, 135–138; longevity of the, 135; paradoxical, 63 Tai Xuan, 7–8, 19 Taiping jing, 7 talismans, 120, 246–248; matching, 194, 196–197, 200, 210–211, 237 Temple of Cleansing Vacuity, 138 tetragrams, 9 Thales, xvii, 32–35, 298 theogony, 56, 118, 143, 171–172, 178, 180–181, 185, 212, 217, 316 Three Pure Ones, 118 time: alchemical, 17, 258; the beginning of, 29, 54–55; celestial, 17, 119, 199, 203; concept of, 17, 130, 258; the ­creation of, 215; cyclical, 187, 249, 264–265; and eternity, 116, 214; material, 130, 199, 312; a scale of genealogical, 118, 130; unit of shi, 243

time-space, 119, 257, 259–265, 285, 306 transmigration, 36, 68, 131, 312 tyranny, 138 unity: alchemical, 199; of body and spirit, xxv, 69, 74, 188, 256; of Dao, xv, ­cosmogonical, 181, 233; of the elements, 280–281, 290, 309; formless, 208, 233; of form-matter, xxiii, 188, 209, 254, 266, 309; of Forms, xix, 44, 90, 100, 145, 170; of harmony, 150–151, 170–171, 181, 228, 232, 276; material, 48, 200, 254; Necessity-Reason; 180, 233; of the numerical one, 100, 265; ontological, 90; Parmenidean, 45; primordial, 38, 180, 260; relational, 141, 170, 271; of togetherness, 100, 147–149, 231 waidan, xxvi. See also instrumental alchemy Wang Bi, 20–27, 30, 113 Wang Chong, 57–58, 77, 111–114, 187, 202, 205–208 Wang Ming, 3, 7–9, 19–20, 22 Wei Boyang, 122, 126 wu, xviii, 1, 23, 75, 113, 143, 164, 174–175, 179, 181, 232. See also nothingness wuwei, xviii, 54, 73, 162. See also indeterminate action Xiang Xiu, 20 Xuan: as dark night sky, xv, 5–6, 18, 62, 154, 164; rhapsody of, 1–3, 6, 59, 62; Xuan-Dao, 1, 3, 7, 28, 30, 55–58, 124, 142, 272, 323; Xuan-One, 59–60, 62, 64, 68–69, 130, 134, 264; Xuan-Qi, 4, 18, 53, 55, 57, 62, 69, 75, 161, 170, 175–177, 181, 185, 188, 228, 264; “Xuan upon Xuan,” 5, 23, 26, 29 Xuanye (cosmology), 187, 189–190, 209–210

364

index

Yang Xiong, 7–10, 14–15, 18–20, 29–31, 210–211 Yuhan Fang, 60 Zeno: denial of plurality, 42; of Elea, 45; logic of exclusion, 55; paradox, 46; Parmenides and, 40 Zhang Daoling, 122, 125–126 Zhang Heng, 15, 19, 184, 190, 194–195, 197, 200–202, 206–207, 211

zhuan: alchemical, 19; astronomical, 197 Zhuangzi, xiv, xxiv, xxv, 17, 20, 21, 63–64, 75, 108, 134, 166, 175, 180, 227, 265, 318 ziran, xvii–xviii, 24, 54–55, 75, 162, 176–178 Zuo Ci, 60, 240, 248

About the Author

Ji Zhang is formerly a Sanderson Fellow and now Research Associate of the Uniting Church Theological College, which, through the United Faculty of Theology, forms part of the Melbourne College of Divinity. He is also an ordained minister of the Uniting Church in Australia. He was born in China and educated in science. Later he trained in systematic theology in Melbourne and Boston, and lectured at the associated schools of the Melbourne College of Divinity. His doctorate is in the field of comparative philosophy from the University of Melbourne. During his research he has been a visiting scholar to Boston College and Harvard University in North America, the University of Tübingen in Germany, and Fudan University and Sichuan University in China.

SO C I E T Y F OR A SI A N A ND C O M PA R AT I VE PHI L OSOPHY MO N O G R A P H SER I E S John W. Schroeder, Editor

No. 1. The Sage and Society: The Life and Thought of Ho Hsin-Yin, by Ronald Dimberg, 1974. No. 2. Studies in Comparative Aesthetics, by Eliot Deutsch, 1975. No. 3. Centrality and Commonality: An Essay on Chung-Yung, by Tu Wei-Ming, 1976. No. 4. Discourse on the Natural Theology of the Chinese, by Gottfried W. Leibniz, translated with an introduction, notes, and commentary by Henry Rosemont, Jr., and Daniel J. Cook, 1977. No. 5. The Logic of Gotama, by Kisor Kumar Chakrabarti, 1978. No. 6. Commentary on the Lao Tzu by Wang Pi, translated by Ariane Rump, introduction by Wing-tsit Chan, 1979. No. 7. Han Fei Tzu’s Political Theory, by Wang Hsiao-po and Leo S. Chang, 1986. No. 8. The Māṇḍūkya Upanisad and the Agama Śāstra: An Investigation into the Meaning of the Vedanta, by Thomas E. Wood, 1990. No. 9.  Mind Only: A Philosophical and Doctrinal Analysis of the Vijñānavāda, by Thomas E. Wood, 1991. No. 10. Accomplishing the Accomplished: The Vedas as a Source of Valid Knowledge in Sankara, by Anantanand Rambachan, 1991. No. 11. Nāgārjunian Disputations: A Philosophical Journey through an Indian Looking-Glass, by Thomas E. Wood, 1994. No. 12. Ch’en Liang on Public Interest and the Law, by Hoyt Cleveland Tillman, 1994.

368

series list

No. 13. Definition and Induction: A Historical and Comparative Study, by Kisor Kumar Chakrabarti, 1995. No. 14. Let the Cow Wander: Modeling the Metaphors in Veda and Vedanta, by Michael W. Meyers, 1995. No. 15. The Four Political Treatises of the Yellow Emperor: Original Mawangdui Texts with Complete English Translations and an Introduction, by Leo S. Chang and Yu Feng, 1998. No. 16. Perceptual Error: The Indian Theories, by Srinivasa Rao, 1998. No. 17. Hindu Ethics: A Philosophical Study, by Roy W. Perrett, 1998. No. 18. Skillful Means: The Heart of Buddhist Compassion, by John W. Schroeder, 2001. No. 19. On the Epistemology of the Senses in Early Chinese Thought, by Jane Geaney, 2002. No. 20. A Companion to Angus C. Graham’s Chuang Tzu: The Inner Chapters, by Harold D. Roth, 2003. No. 21. Contexts and Dialogue: Yogācāra Buddhism and Modern Psychology on the Subliminal Mind, by Tao Jiang, 2006. No. 22. One and Many: A Comparative Study of Plato’s Philosophy and Daoism Represented by Ge Hong, by Ji Zhang, 2012. Manuscripts should be directed to John W. Schroeder, Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies, St. Mary’s College, St. Mary’s City, Maryland 20686; email: [email protected].

Production Notes for Zhang/One and Many Design and composition by Josie Herr with text and display in New Baskerville Printing and binding by Sheridan Books, Inc. Printed on 60 lb. House White Opaque, 500 ppi

Comparative philosophy “This is a work of great intellectual daring, requiring immense erudition and impressive power of synthesis. The topic, comparing the ontological ideas of Plato and Ge Hong with special reference to their implications for the one-many problem, is unique, stimulating, and highly important, identifying a crucial area for cross-cultural and comparative research and producing a creative, informed, thoughtful, incisive, and skillful response to the considerable challenge of making such an ambitious project bear fruit.” —Brook Ziporyn, professor of religion and philosophy, Department of Religious Studies, Northwestern University “I am very impressed by the focus and consistently solid argumentation of this work. Comparisons can be odious, but this one works because the author has placed Plato and Ge Hong in the contexts of Greek and Chinese philosophical and religious thought, and with some aplomb has been able to test the two thinkers’ strengths and weaknesses against modern scientific findings.” —Garry W. Trompf, emeritus professor in the History of Ideas, Department of Studies in Religion, The University of Sydney “This work is an exploration and an instantiation of cross-cultural dialogue. But unlike most work in cross-cultural studies, it looks at the common questions facing humankind at a fundamental philosophical level, uncovering differences in basic assumptions about the world and, latent far below the surface, differences in logical operations. It makes a scholarly contribution that is not confined to any single humanistic discipline, for it points to the ways in which the world—and the ways in which we think about the world—can remain open.” —David Leopold Holm, National Cheng Chi University, Taiwan

Ji Zhang is formerly a Sanderson Fellow and now research associate of the Uniting Church Theological College, which, through the United Faculty of Theology, forms part of the Melbourne College of Divinity. He is also an ordained minister of the Uniting Church in Australia.

University of Hawai‘i Press Honolulu Hawai‘i 96822-1888 Cover design: Cameron Poulter

ISBN 978-0-8248-3554-5 90000

9 780824 835545 www.uhpress.hawaii.edu