《徐仙翰藻》Vol. 13

This letter from Volume 13 of Xu Xian's Literary Treasures represents a formal request from villagers inviting the esteemed Elder of East Village (likely a local dignitary) to compose an inscription for the restoration of an ancient temple. The text exemplifies the characteristic humility and cosmology of Daoist correspondence.

The opening establishes reverential decorum: Though capable of writing, I dare not presume to discuss celestial principles like the ancients who plucked zithers while expounding the Book of Changes. My perspective remains as limited as someone peering at the sky through a leaky roof. While I harbor humble thoughts to present, I fear worldly judgment even more. The sacred title of Lingji Temple has endured over four centuries, and Master Tongzhen (likely an immortal adept) manifested through ninety-four transformations—how could mortal words presume to comment on such divine matters?

The text then expounds the numinous origins of sacred writing: Heaven and Earth impartially revealed the Dragon Chart from the Yellow River and the Tortoise Script from the Luo River—celestial portents manifested through natural phenomena. Though sages avoided speaking of supernatural forces, the noble person understands that true divine principles permeate all things while remaining invisible and inaudible. Human fortunes appear as clearly as palm lines; the ancients cultivated harmonious humility among people, whereas today's moral decline leaves few who uphold ritual propriety—a truly distressing circumstance.

Transitioning to the petition's purpose: Writing must transcend empty discourse, for feigned piety without true veneration constitutes flattery. We recognize your (Elder of East Village) ability to perceive subtle mysteries and plumb profound truths, your character towering like cliffs, your literary prowess sweeping away obstacles like an army. Long have we heard of your talents rivaling Wang Bo's Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng (Tang literary allusion). Should you grace us with calligraphy like Han Yu's Stele for the Luo River Temple (Tang reference), even Cai Yong (courtesy name Bojie), master of inscriptions, would acknowledge your superiority.

The earnest appeal concludes: This four-century-old temple urgently requires restoration, its new stele needing precisely 1,080 characters (a Daoist cosmological number). Though writings may circulate, your personal presence would honor our community beyond measure. Words cannot fully convey our sincerity—true divinity rewards virtuous deeds, and we humbly await your emendations and inscription, daring not impose further.

(Note: The text employs multiple allusions to Tang literati Wang Bo, Han Yu, Liu Zongyuan, and Eastern Han scholar Cai Yong, demonstrating Daoist documents' integration of literary tradition. The number 1,080 corresponds with Daoist "Zhou Tian" celestial cycles. Throughout, it manifests the Daoist epistolary philosophy of "divine resonance" and "writing conveying the Dao.")

The Xu Xian Han Zao passage combines elements of a thank-you letter with philosophical discourse, expressing three main layers of meaning:

The first section addresses Lord Dongcun with gratitude. The author modestly claims to possess neither the exquisite calligraphy of Wang Xizhi (referencing the famous "goose exchange" anecdote where Wang traded his writing for geese) nor the lavish gifts like the roasted meat offerings Confucius' disciples brought (referencing the Analects). Yet he deeply appreciates the recipient's loyalty that transcends social status. He praises the lord's scholarship as "spanning human and celestial realms" and literary talent surpassing masters like Han Yu (Tang dynasty's "Retreating Scholar") and Sima Qian (Han dynasty's Grand Historian).

The second part employs the "Record of Lingji King" parable to explore the concept of "spiritual interdependence." Using the Daoist metaphor of dragons requiring cloud-qi to manifest their numinous power, it illustrates how even deities need external support to reveal their sanctity—implying the author similarly requires assistance to achieve his goals.

The third section examines the "relationship between name and essence" through historical figures. It mentions how Zhang Lu (Fan Ju's pseudonym) and Tao Zhugong (Fan Li's pseudonym) changed names without altering their essence, and how ancient sages like Gao Yao, Kui, and Qi transmitted Yao-Shun's Dao despite no records of their studies. Emphasizing Daoist cultivation's core lies in grasping the weiwei jingyi principle (the essential doctrine from the Book of Documents: "The human mind is precarious, the moral mind is subtle; maintain refinement and hold fast to the One"), it asserts that while Daoist mysteries have remained profound for millennia, their foundation rests on the principle of "taking righteousness as benefit." The closing humility about mediocre talent yet enduring devotion subtly conveys the author's commitment to continued spiritual practice.

Frequent use of specialized Daoist terminology like jiusishi hua (94 transformations of deities) and sandu (possibly referring to the three Dantian or three corpse spirits) demonstrates the author's profound Daoist cultivation. Through historical allusions and natural metaphors, the text seamlessly integrates interpersonal relationships, spiritual insights, and cosmic philosophy characteristic of Daoist practitioners.

This passage consists of an epilogue and a reply letter documenting the correspondence between Immortal Xu (Master Dongcun) and his friend. The first section is Beishan Gong's epilogue for Master Dongcun's collected writings, while the second is Master Dongcun's response to Magistrate Fu.

In the epilogue, Beishan Gong praises Master Dongcun’s virtue (De): his moral character bridges reclusion and public service (隐显), and his Daoist practice connects the realms of the living and the departed (幽明). His literary style possesses the robust strength of Liu Gongquan’s (Tang dynasty calligrapher) bone structure and the refined texture of Yan Zhenqing’s (Tang dynasty calligrapher) brushwork, while his broad-mindedness resembles the vast ocean (溟渤). His writings carry the profound sentiment of the Duke of Zhou (Zhou dynasty sage) and the wisdom of Confucius (孔思). His words resolve right and wrong, earning widespread admiration. His virtue (De) flows naturally without deliberate display—a testament to the accumulated hidden merit (阴隲) of his quiet cultivation.

In his reply, Master Dongcun humbly states: though he wished to welcome Magistrate Fu with a broom in hand (拥箒), he was unworthy to serve as his attendant (执鞭而叅乘). He gazes upon the magistrate with reverence, as one looks up to a towering mountain (高山仰止), his heart brimming with admiration. He praises the magistrate’s advanced age and noble virtue (年高得邵), aided by divine support (阴相神扶), his scholarly insight and moral conduct (经明行修) comparable to the Duke of Zhou, and his financial and administrative prowess (财裕国富) surpassing that of Yan Ying and Guan Zhong (renowned statesmen of the Spring and Autumn period). Finally, he modestly acknowledges that while his writings have been preserved in the ancestral hall (祠堂有誌), they are merely spontaneous outpourings from his heart (胷中全马), not meticulously crafted works (纸上雕虫), and laments his own inadequacy (自慙踈鲁).

The text employs the classical honorific "恭惟" as a customary expression of respect in ancient letters. The phrase "高山仰止" originates from the Classic of Poetry, while "识荆州" alludes to Han Chaozong of the Tang dynasty (known as Han of Jingzhou), both conveying reverence for virtuous individuals.

Here is the translation of the two vernacular interpretations from Xu Xian Han Zao (Literary Works of Immortal Xu):

The first piece, "A Letter of Gratitude on Behalf of Fellow Villagers to Lord Dongcun," explains:

A cultivated person treats others with generosity—though the gift may be light, the sentiment behind it is profound. It is like the saying, "A goose feather sent from a thousand miles away may be insignificant, but the goodwill is priceless." The letter humbly describes the writer's crude literary skills and earnestly requests the recipient to accept it. It mentions Han Zihua (a renowned Song dynasty statesman) praised for his virtue, as well as the famous bond between Xie Lingyun (a Southern Dynasties poet) and his brother Hui Lian, illustrating how a virtuous elder brother naturally fosters an admirable younger sibling. The writer claims to live in seclusion among mountains and forests, content with a simple and impoverished life, never presuming to associate with the powerful. This time, having received the recipient's kindness, the writer feels both ashamed and at a loss. The recipient is praised for coming from a distinguished family, possessing extraordinary talent, harboring grand aspirations, and displaying brilliant literary flair. The writer, dwelling in a humble abode, dares not hope for a visit but can only respectfully express gratitude through this letter. Finally, it notes how the recipient, like the illustrious Colonel Zan Jun of the Han dynasty, commands such prestige that it revitalizes temples, and like the capable Governor Cheng Yu, fulfills the collective aspirations of the people.

The second piece, "A Letter of Gratitude to Commander Zhang," states:

Speaking forthrightly at court, his achievements are recorded in history; strategizing within the military tent, he is enfeoffed as a Marquis of Ten Thousand Households. Such a paragon endures eternally, ensuring his family prospers for generations. The writer humbly admits to presumptuously sending this letter, not daring to visit in person. Commander Zhang (a high-ranking military official) is praised for his integrity and benevolence, governing the people with parental compassion and adjudicating cases with keen discernment. Under his administration, injustices are resolved, the people live in peace, and his virtuous governance stands as a model for the seven southern commanderies. His demeanor is as majestic as the North Star, revered by all; his learning is as vast as the ocean, and his literary brilliance rivals the wind and clouds. Long has he been renowned as one of the "Two Marvels of the Secretariat," and now it is even more joyous to witness the gathering of the world's literati under his auspices. His calligraphy rivals that of Cui Yuan and Du Du (renowned Han dynasty calligraphers), and his discourse is as spirited as that of Ouyang Xun and Yu Shinan (celebrated Tang dynasty scholars).

This passage contains several official documents from the Yuan Dynasty Daoist text "Xu Xian Han Zao," recording local officials' and villagers' reverence for the Lingji Temple. Let me interpret it in modern terms:

Description of Lingji Temple: Though merely a structure within a hundred-mile city, its gates stood majestic, with the ornamental pillars before its entrance remaining as fresh as new despite centuries. The author humbly identifies as a country lad from humble origins who has bathed in the river's blessings. The Jishan neighborhood had an ancient Rain Prayer Official whose repeated efficacious responses earned the temple its name "Lingji" (Spiritual Aid) - these two characters were inscribed prominently, and the people erected a stele to commemorate this grace.

In the petition to Inspector Cheng: The author praises this official as a rare talent of noble character, inheriting the Neo-Confucian teachings of Master Yichuan (Cheng Yi), with calligraphy surpassing masters like Lu Zhi and Wang Xizhi. As a mere villager, he presumes to request the official to inscribe a plaque for Lingji Temple. This temple in Jishan serves as the communal sacred site for local worshippers, having repeatedly answered rain prayers, and hopes to obtain three characters from the official's brush.

Petition on behalf of villagers inviting Daoist Master Chen Daoxing to preside over Lingji Temple: Describes the temple as a millennium-old ritual site with flourishing incense, near the thriving Qingbu Market that produces many talents. Hopes Master Chen will oversee temple affairs to spread its reputation widely and continue the educational legacy of predecessors like Wang, Yang, and Lu.

The term "Lingji" (Spiritual Aid) was a common Daoist temple name meaning "efficacious salvation"; the "Rain Prayer Official" refers to the Daoist position specializing in rain-invoking rituals; "Master Yichuan's teachings" indicate Cheng Yi's Neo-Confucianism, showing the Yuan Dynasty blending of Daoism with Neo-Confucian thought. These documents reveal the close relationship between local officials and Daoist temples during the Yuan period, as well as the sincere popular faith in Daoist efficacy.

This passage from the Daoist classic Xu Xian Han Zao details the invitation of an accomplished master to preside over a religious ceremony. The modern vernacular interpretation reads as follows:

The text begins by praising the invited master's profound Daoist cultivation, stating he has attained the realm of authentic realization akin to the ancient immortal Wo Quan (a legendary transcendent). This venerable practitioner embodies the compassionate ideal of benefiting humanity, accumulating immeasurable merit. However, the temple currently maintains only the spring sacrificial rites, lacking suitable candidates committed to daily morning and evening practices.

The author expresses intention to invite this virtuous gentleman—renowned for his moral excellence and strict adherence to precepts—to oversee the ceremony. Should he condescend to attend, his presence would bring honor to the temple. The text employs the metaphor "transforming iron into gold" to describe the master's ability to enlighten beings, while modestly calling his own invitation "casting a brick to attract jade."

Subsequently, specific details about the ceremony are provided: chosen for the fifteenth day of the seventh month (the Daoist Zhongyuan Festival), this ten-day Universal Salvation ritual will include three days of strict purification and nine days of Keyi (Daoist liturgy). The event's program encompasses both public teachings and private rites for souls' deliverance. The master is specially invited to conduct these rituals, with full confidence that under his guidance, the ceremony will achieve perfect success in liberating wandering spirits.

The conclusion conveys profound reverence, describing the master's erudition and Daoist skills as towering like mountains, his comprehension of profound mysteries profound, his fasting discipline impeccable, and his dedication to the Daoist cause wholehearted. The author humbly professes limited understanding but recognizes that in this present age, none but this master could shoulder such responsibility. The entire passage radiates deep respect and earnest sincerity toward the accomplished ritual master.

This local official expressed sincere admiration and extended a heartfelt invitation to the eminent Daoist master (a highly revered cultivator). He stated: It would be my great pleasure to associate with a virtuous teacher like yourself. Should you condescend to honor us with your presence, I would personally prepare clean bedding to welcome you. A single essay from you can ferry people across sixty miles of river—you remain forever the spiritual refuge to whom we offer incense from afar. Thousands of commoners take refuge in your guidance, and since your heart beats as one with all beings, surely you won't forsake us.

Representing the local community, he invited this eminent master to serve as "Dujiang" (chief lecturer in Daoist rituals), expressing longstanding reverence. Now that Lingji Temple was preparing for its grand Jiao ceremony (major Daoist sacrificial rite), he was writing especially to extend this invitation. Regarding scriptural teachings, he affirmed there was no contemporary Daoist practitioner of virtue (De) comparable to the master. Should the master employ purification methods (Daoist cultivation techniques) to refine body and mind, uniting divine spirit (Shen) with immortal bone, it would surely bring blessings to all beings.

In another letter, he wrote: You resemble a pillar-beam of the highest quality that shouldn't be confined to small shrines; like the Yangtze River and ocean that naturally embrace all tributaries. Should you grace our ritual platform with your presence, we would receive you with utmost reverence.

To a mountain-dwelling cultivator at Yueshan Shrine, he wrote: You skillfully benefit beings according to circumstances. Though you haven't widely opened your gate of expedient means, I've long yearned to comprehend the profound mystery of true emptiness. While mountains and rivers previously prevented my visit, now that correspondence has been established, how could I not serve wholeheartedly? Were it not for Master Chonggui's (a renowned Chan Buddhist master) precepts, how could Layman Pang's (Pang Yun, the famous Buddhist lay practitioner) spiritual powers be revealed?

Finally, when congratulating Master Lushan on receiving imperial recognition, he traced historical precedents: Patriarch Guangshun once attended imperial ceremonies at the Jade Capital, while Xiantong Monastery received the rare honor of a golden plaque during the Xiantong era. Now that Master Bailu's (the celebrated monk being honored) Dharma rain nourishes all and compassion perfumes the rocky cliffs, he truly embodies supreme goodness. These passages vividly illustrate the Song Dynasty literati's pious reverence for religious practitioners and their fervent pursuit of Dharma, reflecting the dynamic Buddhist-Daoist exchanges of the period.

This scripture comprises two main sections: the first expresses gratitude for divine protection and offers prayers for blessings, while the second presents a philosophical discourse in response to inquiries from Zhou Shenggong (a local elder of high virtue).

The first section depicts the solemn atmosphere of the cultivation site: devotees bathe in divine grace through accumulated virtue, calling out "Long live!" amidst towering peaks, with magnificent temples situated in the blessed lands of the Three Sacred Mountains (Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou from Daoist lore). Malevolent fox spirits are dispersed from the wilderness, while auspicious twin deer appear before the hall (an omen of good fortune), bringing perfect order to the entire monastic community. The author humbly claims no great abilities but emphasizes years of sincere practice—though composing profound writings, they prioritize actual cultivation. Prayers are offered for the monastery's prosperity, that deities might descend riding their sacred elephants (celestial mounts of Daoist immortals) to manifest their presence. The ancient temple, standing for millennia, requires validation through Buddhist Dharma (showing Daoist-Buddhist syncretism), and though the offerings are simple, the devotion runs deep. The section concludes with a gatha (Buddhist hymn): seated in meditation atop rocky cliffs to contemplate spiritual powers, grateful for the ruler's profound benevolence, with renown echoing through the Longevity Peaks.

The second section addresses Zhou Shenggong's questions. It begins lamenting how literary talents often meet unfortunate fates, noting that composing parallel prose (the ornate "four-six" style) exceeds what even a "thrice-broken arm" veteran (metaphor for extensive experience) could easily explain. It then discusses natural phenomena: how mountains, forests, rivers, and valleys all harbor divine spirits, and how imbalance between yin and yang leads to the "six excesses" (in Chinese medicine, the six pathogenic influences). With humility, the author claims no efficacy comparable to mountain or river deities, instead facing skepticism. Omens appear—divination turtle shells show no cracks, geese remain silent—while visions like yellow bears in dreams or red snakes transforming into shadows (both supernatural signs) might stem from mental exhaustion. After prolonged illness, the author questions whose fault it might be, perhaps attributing it to Heaven's will. Finally, invoking Confucius's admonition to "not speak of strange phenomena, extraordinary feats, disorderly conduct, or supernatural matters," the author compares themselves to a "wooden ascetic" (a carved religious statue) lacking literary grace. At forty-nine, they begin to understand the regret of Qu Boyu (a virtuous official of Wei during the Spring and Autumn period), who at fifty realized his errors over the past forty-nine years—a metaphor for awakening to life's impermanence.

This passage is excerpted from the Daoist scripture Xu Xian Han Zao, containing profound reflections on medical practice, destiny, and human relationships. It first mentions the medical skills of the ancient physician Wang Shuhe (a renowned medical scholar of the Wei-Jin period), noting his ability to revive the dead and his mastery of pulse diagnosis through the "seven exterior and eight interior" methods. Despite trying various medicinal treatments, if even one patient remained uncured, he would blame himself, considering it his own failure.

The text then discusses regional cultural differences, pointing out that the state of Chu revered shamanistic ghost culture, while Wei and Qi each had their own customs. The author suggests that as long as one avoids repeating mistakes, it is worthwhile to adhere to one's own cultivation methods, often studying the medical text He Ji Ju Fang (an official Song Dynasty medical compendium) to refine one's healing arts.

The passage shifts to a parallel prose style, expressing sincere prayers and stating that the time of recovery cannot be fully captured in writing. It references the benevolence of Yang Shuzi (the Jin Dynasty general Yang Hu) and the magnanimity of Lou Shide (a Tang Dynasty statesman), arguing that a noble person should not stoop to petty grievances even in adversity. Destiny is fickle—great fame often comes with trials, like a crane with broken wings or a phoenix wounded, yet a lame turtle can still advance, and a sickly chicken may regain its vigor.

The author advocates repaying grievances with virtue (De), emulating the sages who "share others' sorrows and joys," caring for the people's suffering like Yu the Great and Hou Ji. Those skilled in saving lives discard nothing; those adept in speech misspeak not. Finally, the text mentions the need for three-year-old mugwort to find the "six-foot vine" (likely a medicinal herb), emphasizing the value placed on medicine and expressing humility through gestures like rushing barefoot to greet guests or raising a whip in gratitude.

The conclusion alludes to a marital alliance between two families, using "fish swimming together" as a metaphor for intimacy and "phoenixes singing in harmony" to symbolize marital bliss. References to "Zhu-Chen" (likely alluding to enduring friendship) and "Qi-Zheng" (states from the Spring and Autumn period, here representing union) express cherishment for lasting bonds.

This text combines two Daoist documents: the first is a family letter, while the latter is a congratulatory essay for the ridgepole-raising ceremony (a traditional ritual for installing the main beam of a house).

The general meaning of the first letter is:

Our two families have forged a deep bond amidst the green mountains and clear waters, which brings me great joy. Your granddaughter possesses noble virtue, carrying on the legacy of her ancestors, much like the ancient musician Bian He with his refined taste. Though your grandson is still young and not yet able to compose essays with ease, he has already cultivated aspirations through exposure to poetry and literature. Though we are connected by marriage, guiding the younger generation is a shared responsibility. Your family is truly an outstanding inheritor of the Huang lineage (possibly referring to the Daoist Huangting tradition), akin to the virtuous wife of Liang Hong (a reclusive scholar of the Eastern Han), who knew when to offer wise counsel. May they reverently uphold ancestral rites (with offerings like duckweed and artemisia) and sincerely honor their forebears with simple yet heartfelt tributes such as hazelnuts and chestnuts. Enclosed is a modest gift—please kindly accept it.

The latter section, Ridgepole-Raising Essay, celebrates the completion of the new house:

This residence is situated in a blessed land embraced by three mountains (possibly referring to the three immortal peaks of Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou), inheriting the lineage of the Taiping Dao (an early Daoist sect), a family of benevolence and virtue accumulated through good deeds. Now that the new home is complete, divination (using tortoise shells and stalks) has revealed great fortune, with even birds heralding auspicious tidings. You, the master of the house, have inherited your ancestral legacy (like the craftsmanship passed down through generations), mastering both ritual and music (as symbolized by strings and hymns), excelling in literary grace while remaining practical, with a mind of grand vision. The newly built mansion is as magnificent as a towering pavilion of layered petals, its shelter extending for miles, earning it the praise of being a "blossom county" (a metaphor for an exquisite dwelling). Today, as the house stands complete, it shall flourish for ten thousand generations. Though I am but a humble craftsman, I have devoted my efforts to planning and constructing it for you (jing zhi ying zhi, a phrase from the Book of Songs). Like Fan Li (the wealthy statesman of the Spring and Autumn period) displaying his riches in the golden marketplace, or Lao Laizi (a figure from the Twenty-Four Filial Exemplars) entertaining his parents in colorful robes to show filial piety, I offer my sincere congratulations—like a sparrow celebrating a grand mansion—and present this radiant ridgepole verse, resplendent as a rainbow (didong).

The concluding celebratory verse reads:

You were already a pillar of talent, and now you have labored to build this splendid home.

These countless halls shall shelter multitudes, while the three scholar trees (san huai, symbolizing high ministerial rank) in the courtyard foretell the family’s glorious rise.

(The allusion to san huai subtly hints that the household will produce eminent figures.)