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［55 Nakae Touju］ The source：「REPRESENTATIVE MEN OF JAPAN」
〔The Inward Man〕 …… There were two distinct stages in his intellectual career. The first was when he, with his countrymen of the time, was brought up in the conservation Chuu philosophy, which above all other things, enforced ceaseless examination into one's own self. We can imagine the sensitive youth made doubly sensitive by his constant introspection into the lack and weakness within himself, and all the effects of undue self-examination are plainly visible in his early life and writings. His Notes and Commentaries upon Great Learning, composed in his twenty-first year, was written under this mood. We fear his natural modesty under pressure of disheartening philosophy would have turned him into a morbid recluse, as it did many souls like him, had not a new hope been reached out to him in the writings of the progressive Chinese, Wang Yang Ming. We have had already some occasion to refer to this remarkable philosopher when we spoke of our great Saigou. I think I am atating a well established fact in Japanese History when I state my own observation that the Chinese culture in the form of Yang-Ming-ism has never produced timid, fearful, conservative and retrogressive peple out of us. I believe all thoughtful critics of Confucius now agree that the sage himself was a fery progressive man. It was his retrogressive countrymen who construed him in their own light, and made him appear so to the world. But Yang Ming developed the progressiveness that was in Confucius, and inspired hopes in such as were inclined to understand him in that light. The same helped our own Touju te see the sage in the new light. The Saint of Oumi was now a prectical man. Here are some of hs Yang-Ming-isms: "Press right on, though thy ways be dark; Skies may clear ere thy course is done." "Tightly pull, man, thy heart's string, Prepare for a resolute march; A case is known of an arrow, Piercing through a flinty rock." "He loves his life who his life forsakes For Ways that no like or higher know." Who can make a quiet village teacher out of these? We have said he wrote commentaries upon the Chinese Classics. Indeed, these form by far the most important part of all his writings. But let not our readers imagine that Touju was a commentator in the ordinary sense of that team. He was a most original man, and his natural modesty alone made him resort to this kind of literature for expressing himself. That he expressed perfect freedom in handling the ancient writings was evident from the words he often repeated to his pupils. "These Discourses of the holy men of old contain many things in them that are not applicable to the present state of society." So saying, he made an expurgated edition of the same for use in his school. Had he lived today, he would have made a fine subject for a heresy trial! That he clearly made distinctions between man-made Laws (法, nomos) and eternally-existing Truth (道, logos) is shown by the following remarkable saying of his: "The truth is distinct from the law. Many taking one for the other are greatly mistaken. The law changes with time, even with saints in their land, - much more when transplanted to our land. But the truth is from eternity. Before the name of virtue was, the truth was and prevailed. Before man was, space had it; and after he shall have disappeared, and Heaven and Earth have returned to nothingness, it will abide. But the law made to meet the need of time. When time and place change, even saints' laws, if forced upon the world, are injurious to the cause of the truth." And this was spoken when the so-called Classical Books (経書) were considered as inerrant as the Bible to the extreme inspirationists in our day. Commentaries written in such a spirit as this cannot but be bold, striking and new. Yet with all his fearlessness and independence, nothing was more remarkable in his ethical system than the foremost position he gave to the virtue of humility. To him it was the primal virtue out of which all other virtues came, and without which a man lacked in all things. "Unless the scholar first purges himself of his spirit and seeks the virtue of humility, with all his learning and abundance of genius, he is not yet entitled to a position above the slough of low commonalty." "Fullness invites loss; humility is Heaven's law. Humility is emptiness. When the mind is empty, the judgment of good and bad comes by itself." Explaining the meaning of the word emptiness, he has this to say: "From of old, he that seeks the truth stumbles at this word. Because spiritual, hence empty; because empty, therefore spiritual. Consider this well." As for attaining this height of virtue, his method was very simple. Said he: "If to cherish virtur is our aim, we are to do good day by day. One good done, and one evil goes. Good daily done, evil daily goes. Like as the day lengthens, the night shortens, we persevere in good, and evil all disappears." And finding his supreme satisfaction in this emptiness in his soul, he has these words of pity to say of those who are not yet exonerated of selfishness in them: "A prison there is besides prisons, Large enough to take in the world; Its four walls, love of honor, Of gain, and pride, and desire - Alas! So many among men, Chained therein, mourn evermore." "Wish," desire, he despised in all its forms. It was the predominance of this element in Buddhism that alienated him entirely from that faith. That good is done with a reward as its aim, even though the reward lies in the future existence, was objectionable to him. Righteousness with him needed no other incentive than itself. The hope of future reward and existence, even if he had it, influenced him not in the slightest degree in his love of righteousness and enjoyment in the practice of the Heavenly Ways. Writing to a mother who mourned over her son's leaving the Buddhist faith to turn a Confucian, he has this to say: "That you make so much of the future I can well understand. But I wish you to note that if the future is so important, the present is still more so, for if a man get astray in this life, it is all too probable that he will be forever lost in the life to come‥‥ In a life so uncertain as this, where tomorrow is wholly unknown to us, nothing can exceed in importance our constant worship of the Buddha within our breasts, etc." That he was not an atheist is abundantly shown by the profound respect he paid to the gods of the nation. Only his faith was singularly free from "wishes" of all kind, except that of being righteous altogether. And yet he seems to have enjoyed his life thoroughly. In all his writing we fail to catch a single note of despondence. Indeed, we with our own views of God and universe, can hardly imagine how this man with his Yang-Ming-istc form of Confucianism could have been so happy. Everlasting joyful must have been the heart that could sing "On a Winter Day": "Whence flowers ceased to be Objects of my heart's desire, How everlasting is the Spring, That reigns in my bosom." The following is in a similar stain: "Little knew I that this life, With sorrows hard pressed, Could by Learning's benign help, Be spent in endless peace." …… |
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