SOURCE: “A Comparison of Li and Substantial Form,” in Journal of Chinese Philosophy, Vol. 9, No. 1, March, 1982, pp. 45-71.

[In the essay that follows, Hatton compares Chu Hsi's conception of li with the Western notion of “substantial form.” Hatton traces the origins of this debate, and challenges those critics who have suggested that li and substantial form are equivalent.]

I. INTRODUCTION

The concept of li^a is central in the philosophy of the Sung Dynasty Neo-Confucian philosopher Chu Hsi^b (1130-1200). In discussions of his philosophy by Western or Westernized interpreters, li has often been compared with substantial form. Indeed, it might be said that there has been a simmering conflict for the last fifty years as to whether li is equivalent to substantial form. The first skirmish, as it were, occurred in 1923, the year of the publication of the 2nd edition of Stanislas Le Gall's Tchou Hi: Sa Doctrine, Son Influence and J. Percy Bruce's Chu Hsi and His Masters. In Le Gall's work, which contains a French translation of Chapter 49 of Chu Hsi's Chu-Tzu Ch’üan-Shu (Complete Works of Master Chu), “li” is left untranslated. However, he refers parenthetically to li several times as “forme”.² Bruce notes this in his own work and cautions that “Li … however suggestive of Aristotle's ‘form’, is not identical with it.”³ It is, in fact, “essentially different” from it.⁴

However, in 1934 Fung Yu-lan's Chung-kuo Che-Hsueh Shih^c appeared in China. Here he suggests that,” Li is just like what Greek philosophy called form.”^d5 His work was written in Chinese and aimed at a Chinese audience, but in 1942 the first step was taken to make it available to a wider audience. In this year the chapter dealing with Chu Hsi appeared in an English translation of Derk Bodde in which the statement cited above is translated as “Li is equivalent to what Greek philosophy called form.”⁶ In 1952, a translation of the entire Che-hsüeh Shih appeared, and in it, a second translation of the Chapter on Chu Hsi. This time li is now “similar to” form.⁷

Then, in 1956 the 2nd volume of Joseph Needham's Science and Civilization in China appeared. According to Needham, with respect to the translation of li as “form,” “this reads into the thought of the Sung Neo-Confucians an Aristotelianism which was not there.”⁸ The equation of li and ch’i^f with “The form and matter of Platonic-Aristotelian philosophy,” he says later, “is entirely unacceptable.”⁹

But in 1957 the first volume of Carsun Chang's A History of Neo-Confucian Thought appeared. According to Chang “The universal notions combine in one whole all the essential attributes of objects. They represent what Aristotle calls ‘form’ and what Chu Hsi calls ‘li’.”¹⁰

In 1963 Wing-tsit Chan entered the fray. After briefly reviewing the debate about li and substantial form (referring specifically to Fung, Bruce, Chang, and Needham), he concludes with a word of caution: “These comparisions show that in any comparative study similarities are usually accompanied by dissimilarities. The important point to note is that Chu Hsi is neither Platonic nor Aristotelian. The usual Western polarities “do not apply in Chinese philosophy.”¹¹ Be that as it may, Chan suggests later that “The closest parallel to the concept of li in Western philosophy is a Platonic Idea.”¹²

The latest voice in the controversy is that of Stanislaus Sun, whose article entitled “The Doctrine of the Li in the Philosophy of Chu Hsi,” appeared in 1966. His position is essentially that while li is indeed the essence or nature of a thing, and thus equivalent to substantial form in this respect, it is more than form for it is also the moral principles which all things follow. As he says, “the term li in Chu Hsi is not only law, or ethical standard but also the essence or nature of a thing.”¹³ Sun reviews the literature on the controversy in the course of his discussion of li, and indeed, it has remained dormant since the appearance of his article. However, it is the contention of this article that not only is his conclusion wrong, but his discussion is so flawed that it is evident from a careful reading of the article itself that his conclusion is wrong. Thus, it is the purpose of this article to resurrect the controversy once again and settle the matter once and for all.

Thus the discussion of li that follows is not intended to be complete and is best viewed as an extended argument for the denial of the equivalence of li and substantial form. This argument has three parts. It is argued first that according to Chu Hsi all things (wu4^g) contain li. It is then pointed out that according to Chu Hsi all things which contain li contain essentially the same li. This is the key part of the argument with respect to the conclusion to be drawn about li. For finally it is argued that if li is essentially the same in all things, it cannot be responsible for any of the essential differences between things, and thus it cannot be equivalent to substantial form. As a preliminary to the third part of the argument, the scholastic conception of substantial form is briefly reviewed.

After this discussion of li in which the arguments for rejecting the equation of li and substantial form are presented, there will be a consideration of the previous discussions of this question noted above.

However, before we begin a discussion of “li,” we must briefly discuss two other terms, “hsing^h”¹⁴ and “t’ai-chiⁱ”.¹⁵ This is because passages about the hsing and the t’ai-chi will be quoted in the course of discussion of li, and it is necessary to establish beforehand that these passages are relevant to such a discussion.

II. LI, HSING AND T’AI-CHI

Chu Hsi inherited the terms “li,” “hsing,” and “t’ai-chi” from his predecessors, and in his synthesis of the materials which they provided him Chu Hsi treats these terms as essentially synonymous. Chu Hsi sometimes uses one term rather than another when he wishes to emphasize a particular aspect, as it were, of the one reality to which they all refer, the li.

It will be argued that all things contain essentially the same li and that li is the source of certain tendencies which all things have. Thus, if it were not for their ch’i, all beings would exhibit these tendencies to the same extent. Ch’i, however, obstructs these tendencies so that some beings manifest them less than others. Therefore, we can look at li either as “universal” or as “individualized.” When we think of it as universal, we think of it as that which is essentially the same in all beings and as the potentiality for certain behavior which all beings have. When, on the other hand, we consider li as individualized, we consider it insofar as it is able to manifest itself or insofar as the behavioral potential for which it is responsible is actualized.

Chu Hsi often uses “hsing” to refer to li as individualized and t’ai-chi to refer to li as universal in the senses which have just been explained. This distinction between “li” and “hsing” is well known and unproblematic.¹⁶ However, the relationship of “li” and “t’ai-chi” is problematic. On the one hand, there is the contention of this article that Chu Hsi uses the term “t’ai-chi” to refer to the li as universal in the previously explained sense.¹⁷

Fung Yu-lan, however, interprets the relation of li and t’ai4-chi2 in an essentially different way. This is because his interpretation of li itself differs essentially from that of this article. As has already been pointed out, he interprets li as substantial form. Since Fung interprets li in this way, he holds that there are different kinds of li corresponding to the different kinds of things, both natural and man-made. According to Bodde's translation Fung says, for example, that,

Before the boat or cart yet exists, the li or concept of that boat or cart is already there. In other words, what we call the invention of a boat or cart is nothing more than the discovery by man of the Principle [li] that pertains to boats or carts, and the conforming to this Principle in order to create an actual boat or cart. The latter is thus only the physical embodiment of the already subsisting concept. For every potentially existent object, therefore, whether natural or manmade, there must first be a Principle—a Principal lying within a world “above shapes” that consists entirely of such Principle, and is in itself all-perfect and all-complete.¹⁸

As for the t’ai-chi, it “consists of the Principles or li of all the things in the universe, brought together into a single whole”.¹⁹ Thus, the relation of a thing's li to its t’ai-chi is the relation of an element in a collection to the collection.

If each thing contains the t’ai chi and therefore every possible kind of li, why is it a thing of one kind rather than another? According to Fung,

It has been stated earlier that every individual object contains the Supreme Ultimate [t’ai-chi] in its entirety. It should be noted, however, that, for any individual thing, it is only that thing's own particular Principle that is able to manifest itself. As to the Supreme Ultimate as a whole, this, though also present, remains concealed. The reason lies in the fact that it is obscured by the physical Ether or ch’i, with which the object in question is also endowed.²⁰

Thus, according to Fung, out of all the various kinds of li which a thing contains, the ch’i allows only one li to manifest itself. But if the t’ai-chi is a collection of all li, then the terms “t’ai-chi” and “li” cannot have the same referrent nor can the two terms be thought of as distinguishing different ways of looking at the same thing. For example, a philosophy class is a collection of students, but we cannot say that “student” and “philosophy class” have the same referrent and simply represent two different ways of looking at the same thing.

Fung cites various passages from the works of Chu Hsi as textual support of his contention that the t’ai-chi is a collection of li.²¹ However, the question of the relationship of li and t’ai chi is not to be settled on the basis of textual references to this relationship alone. It cannot be decided until the more basic question of the nature of the li is settled. If, as this article contends, li is essentially the same in all things, then it is impossible to make sense of the conception of the t’ai-chi as a collection of li. Only if, as Fung contends, li is responsible for differences in kind, and different kinds of things contain different kinds of li, is it possible to make sense of the conception of the t’ai-chi as a collection of li. Since it is argued at length here that Chu Hsi does not conceive of li as differing in any way, and conceives of it as essentially the same in all things, it is concluded on this basis that “li” and “t’ai chi” are synonymous insofar as by “t’ai-chi” Chu Hsi most often means li as universal in the previously explained sense of the term.

Keeping the relationship of the terms “li,” “hsing,” and “t’ai-chi” in mind, we now turn our attention to their common referrent, which will usually be referred to as “the li” in the following discussion. To repeat what was said earlier, this discussion is not intended to be complete. The function of the li will be outlined only to the extent necessary to show that it cannot be equivalent to substantial form.

III. ALL THINGS CONTAIN LI

According to Chu Hsi, “If there is the ch’i, then there is the li. If there is no ch’i, then there is no li.”²² While Chu Hsi has no expression for “if and only if,” this assertion is equivalent to saying that there is ch’i if and only if there is li. Thus the two are in some sense inseparable.

In addition to general assertions such as the above about the relationship of li and ch’i (the “components,” as it were, of things) which imply that all things contain li, Chu Hsi also explicitly affirms that all things have li. From the records of Chu Hsi's conversations, it is clear that some of his students were surprised to learn that certain kinds of things contain li. The assertions of the inseparability of li and things vary in generality. The most general are exemplified by Chu Hsi's agreement with a student that, “All things contain the same t’ai-chi”,²³ and Chu Hsi's own statements that, “Everybody has the t’ai-chi; everything has the t’ai-chi”,²⁴ and “As for the production of men and things, they must obtain the li”.²⁵

Chu Hsi also enumerates various classes of the “ten thouasand things” and affirms that all the members of each class contain the li. He speaks most often of natural beings, as opposed to man-made things. For example,

As for the things which heaven produces, there are those which have blood—ch’i and consciousness. These are men and beasts. There are those which do not have blood—ch’i and consciousness, but have only life-ch’i. These are grass and trees. There are those in which the life—ch’i has been cut off and which have only shape, tactile qualities, smell, and taste.

These are decayed and withered things. Although there are all these differences between these types of beings, the li are never different.²⁶

Although decayed and withered things are without life, they are not without existence and thus we must conclude that they too have li.²⁷ Birds and beasts also have the same hsing as that which men have, Chu Hsi affirms in another place.²⁸

Not only do natural beings, whether animate or formerly so, have li, but man-made objects have li as well. Such things as bricks, bamboo chairs, pens, boats, and carts have the li. For as soon as there is a thing, there is li.²⁹

In light of all of Chu Hsi's statements on the matter, both general and specific, it seems reasonable to conclude that all things in some sense have or contain the li, and that Chu Hsi does not recognize the existence of “simple” beings, i.e., beings consisting only of li or only of ch’i.

IV. ALL THINGS CONTAIN ESSENTIALLY THE SAME LI

Everything has or contains the li. Do li differ specifically, i.e., are there different kinds of li for different kinds of things Again and again Chu Hsi says that although things have their differences, their li are the same. In a typical passage he says that “As for the hsing of men and things, basically they are without dissimilarity. But as for the endowment of ch’i, it cannot be without differences”.³⁰

The fact that all things possess the same li is indicated, Chu Hsi says, by the fact that they all exhibit, to some extent, virtuous behavior.³¹ Tigers and wolves, he points out, exhibit humanity (jenⁿ) insofar as they exhibit the bond of love between father and son. Jackals and otters offer sacrifice to their ancestors. This reference is to the Chinese belief that these animals spread out their prey before them in order to offer sacrifice.³² Bees and ants exhibit righteousness insofar as they are aware of the relationship of ruler and minister. This is evident from the orderliness of their societies. Ducks and pigeons make distinctions.³³ These species mate for life and thus the Chinese felt that they too observed the principles of morality between the sexes.³⁴ These four examples are Chu Hsi's standard examples of the virtuous behavior of lower animals, and should not be taken as an exhaustive list of the ways in which animals were felt to be capable of virtuous behavior. Some express an awareness of the obvious similarities in behavior between man and other animals, while others are more uniquely Chinese folk beliefs which Chu Hsi apparently took quite seriously. Such beliefs about animal behavior are universal. For example, in rural West Virginia, it was (and probably still is) believed that a snake would try to avenge the killing of its mate. With some thought, the reader can probably come up with many examples of his/her own.

Chu Hsi resorts to analogies to explain how the li can be the same in different things, but there can still be such diversity in their moral behavior. The li in things, he says at one point, is like the sun or moon. If one is in an open place, he sees their light most completely. If one is under a roof in need of repair, it cuts off the light. Some is seen through the holes in the roof, most, however, is not. The ch’i is like the roof which obscures the light of the sun or moon. Non-humans have the li, but it is obscured by the ch’i. Their virtuous behavior is like the light shining through a chink.³⁵

In another place Chu Hsi likens the li to a valuable pearl. If it is placed in clear water it is completely visible. If it is dropped into muddy water, it can be seen only with difficulty. In the virtuous behavior of the best of men they manifest their li just as crystal clear water allows the pearl to be completely visible. The virtuous behavior of birds and beasts is like the faint glimmering of a pearl in muddy water.³⁶

In these analogies there is no suggestion that there are different kinds of li. The same sun is obscured to a greater or lesser extent by all roofs; there are no differences in the pearls dropped into water of varying degrees of clarity. What differs is the ease with which the light and the pearls can be seen.

At one point Chu Hsi speaks to someone who has suggested that humanity, the highest virtue, is distinct from the hsing.³⁷ If this were true it would explain why men exhibit it but other creatures do not. All beings would have the hsing, but men alone would have humanity. Chu Hsi had said that the hsing differs only in the degree of completeness (ch’üan^o) and this would be one interpretation of such a statement. It would also account for some of the obvious differences in behavior exhibited by men and animals. If a dog's hsing were incomplete, for example, while that of a man were complete, this would be because man's hsing contains all that the dog's hsing contains and more. The person to whom Chu Hsi is speaking might have envisioned the relationship of the various hsing in a way similar to the way in which Aristotle envisioned the relationship of the three types of soul. Each type includes the functions and capabilities of all the lower types, but not conversely. Each type of soul also includes functions and capabilities which the lower ones do not have.

Whatever view Chu Hsi's interlocutor had in mind when he suggested that humanity is distinct from the hsing, Chu Hsi rejects the suggestion. Humanity is included in the hsing, all hsing. The human mind, however, is the most spiritual (ling^p) because human ch’i is the clearest and purest. Therefore, men can completely manifest the virtues which their hsing4 contains potentially. The ch’i of nonhumans is impure and unclear and thus their minds are dull. Thus they cannot be expected to manifest completely the virtues. But on the other hand, they are not without traces of virtuous behavior.

And so the notions of completeness (ch’üan^o) and incompleteness (pu-ch’üan^q) Chu Hsi has in mind are completeness of actualization and incompleteness of actualization. A man's hsing is said to be complete while a dog's is not, not because the man's hsing contains something that the dog's does not. Rather, the potentialities of the man's hsing can be more completely actualized than those of the dog. Nor does the man's hsing4 have potentialities which the dog's hsing lacks. The hsing of man and dog are the same and so their potentialities are the same. However, the man's ch’i allows these potentialities to be more completely actualized than does the dog's ch’i. As Chu Hsi puts it,

Although their ch’i has inequalities, still they must obtain it in order to be produced, and among men and things every single one has it. Although li is the same, and things must obtain it in order to constitute the hsing4, men differ in one way from things. Therefore, as for that which constitutes humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, this is li. As for consciousness and movement, men can have them and things can have them. As for humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, things certainly have them but how can they be complete?³⁸

It might still be doubted that Chu Hsi did indeed claim that all things contain essentially the same li, but two interesting passages indicate that his students interpreted him as saying this and were well aware of the consequences of such a claim.

1. Question: Do decayed and withered things have li or not Answer: As soon as there is a thing, then there is li. Heaven cannot produce a pen. Men take rabbit hairs and make pens. As soon as there is a pen, then there is li. Another question: As for the pens mentioned before, how can we discern righteousness and humanity? Answer: In the case of very small things, it is not necessary to discern humanity and righteousness in this way.³⁹

2. Ts’ai Ch’ing says that very minute things all have the hsing too; but we cannot speak of them in terms of humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom because it is certain that there is nothing which we can see in them which can be considered to be humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom? But how can we see that they do not have humanity, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom? These kinds of things have not yet been carefully examined. We should think about them even more.⁴⁰

The point raised in these passages is well taken. Chu Hsi has repeatedly said that the fact that a thing contains li or the hsing is indicated by its manifestation of virtuous behavior. Since all things possess the li, all would be expected to exhibit, to some extent, the four virtues. But how can we make sense of the suggestion that a pen should also exhibit, for example, humanity and righteousness?

When Chu Hsi replies in (1) that it is not necessary to be able always to discern humanity and righteousness, he could be seen as simply avoiding the issue by denying that it is necessary to discern humananity and righteousness even in pens before accepting the general premiss that all things contain the li. The implication would be that the example is irrelevant, but it is not made clear why it is irrelevant. Or Chu Hsi might have in mind the principle with which he answered the original question, “Do decayed and withered things have li or not”? As he replied, “As soon as there is a thing, then there is li”. Such a general statement would imply that even man-made things have li. And so if this principle is accepted, then it must be concluded that a pen also has li, even if it is not apparent that it has humanity, etc. But it is not explained how the general principle was established. If we have some way of knowing that li is in all things independent of our observing that all things exhibit virtuous behavior, then the lack of virtuous behavior in pens can be safely dismissed. But if the principle that all things contain the same li is a generalization from observation of virtuous behavior in men, beasts, birds, etc., then the pen is an obvious counter-example and thus quite important.

Perhaps because he was aware of such problems, in (2) Chu Hsi is not as quick to admit that the humanity, etc. of certain things was completely non-apparent. These kinds of things, he says, have not yet been carefully examined, so we cannot be sure that there is absolutely no manifestation of the four virtues in them.

Thus, although there might be some question as to how obvious it is that pens and such are on the same behavioral continum as man, Chu Hsi seems not to have questioned the fact that they are. His replies are as important for what he does not say as for what he does say. In particular, he does not suggest that he has been misinterpreted. He does not suggest that he never meant to say that all things contain essentially the same li.

V. SUBSTANTIAL FORM

Before arguing that li is not equivalent to substantial form, a short review of the Aristotelian-scholastic conception of substantial form is in order.⁴¹

The substantial form (also called the essence or nature) of a thing determines its specific nature, i.e., the “kind” of thing it is. For example, Russ Hatton's substantial form, humanity, makes him the kind of thing he is, a man. Therefore, it is that which makes him the same as all other things of the same kind, men. The substantial form or essence is expressed by the definition. For example, Russ Hatton's definition would be “rational animal.” Aristotle and his interpreters believed that things divided naturally into kinds or species, each different species having a different substantial form.

A thing's substantial form is imperceptible in itself. However, it does have sensibly perceptible manifestations through which we can come to know it. In particular, we can acquire knowledge of substantial forms through properties and natural operations.

As for properties, because of the substantial form certain characteristics are always found in the things which have a given type of substantial form. These are called properties. Although properties are not included in the substantial form, they “follow” or “flow from” it, and so they are logically implied by the definition. Therefore, the lack of a given property is a sign that the thing lacks the substantial form which is the source or foundation of the property. For example, the capacities for speech and true laughter, and the ability to reason are generally considered by Aristotelians to be properties which flow from the substantial form of humanity. Thus, all things which contain this substantial form, i.e., all men, will be able to speak, laugh, and reason. And from the lack of one of these in a thing it can be concluded that there is also the lack of rationality, and thus that the thing is not a man.

The substantial form is also the source or foundation of a thing's natural operations (also called “proper,” “specific,” or “essential” operations). These are capabilities which are proper to and characteristic of things of a given kind. That is, if X is a natural operation of things of a given kind, then they always have X, while other things never have them. They too are said to “flow from” or “be determined by” the things's substantial form, and are the reason it tends towards its natural end. For example, the natural operations of man include intellect and will. Since intellect is also often given as a property of man, “property” and “natural operation” do not denote mutually exclusive categories.

VI. LI AND SUBSTANTIAL FORM

It could be argued that li is not equivalent to substantial form because it does not have precisely the same functions as form. There is some overlapping of functions to be sure. For example, both the li of man and the substantial form of humanity could be said to be responsible for intellectual ability. But there are also differences in function. For example, it is ch’i rather than li which is the source of life.⁴² Substantial form, on the other hand, communicates being to the thing in which it is found, and in particular communicates life to living beings. Thus it is the source of life in living things.

But such comparisons would be essentially beside the point, for the non-equivalence of li and substantial form is more basic than this. If it were simply pointed out that li and substantial form do not share all functions, this might be misinterpreted in two ways. According to the first misinterpretation, it might still be thought that both li and substantial form make a thing the kind of thing it is. For example, the li of a man is what makes him a man. And it might be thought that if the li of a man is not the same as his substantial form—i.e., if they do not have exactly the same functions—this is because the Western and Chinese views of man are not equivalent. The differences between the li and substantial form are due to differences of emphasis within the two traditions.

According to the second misinterpretation, it might be thought that both li and substantial form serve the same basic role within their respective philosophies, i.e., both are responsible for making things the kinds of things they are. However, the Chinese categorization of the ten thousand things is not the same as the Aristotelian division of natural beings into natural species. Thus, any dissimilarity between a thing's substantial form and its li is due to the fact that each tradition sees it as a different kind of thing.

But both of these are misinterpretations. For I do not wish to deny simply that a man's li is the same as his substantial form in the sense that the kinds of things determined by li are not exactly equivalent to the kinds of things determined by substantial form. What I wish to deny is that li is responsible for a thing's being the kind of thing it is in any sense. But this is the basic function of substantial form. For example, Russ Hatton is the kind of thing he is, a man, because of his substantial form. The same is true of a horse. It is the kind of thing it is because of its substantial form. Further, Russ Hatton and a horse are different kinds of things. But this difference in kind is due to the fact that their substantial forms are essentially different. Li, however, cannot be responsible for such differences in kind simply because it is, as has just been argued, essentially the same in all things. As Chu Hsi himself says in a key passage, among the ten thousand things, their similarity is due to li and their differences are due to ch’i. That which is the same in things or which makes them the same cannot make them different, nor can that which is different in things or which makes them different make them the same.⁴³

It must be admitted that substantial form is also responsible for similarities. It is, of course, responsible for all of the essential similarities among thhings of the same species, i.e., of the same kind. But more important for this discussion, it is also responsible for certain similarities among things of different species. For example, the substantial form of a man is the source of his life, as is the substantial form of a dog. This is because a substantial form is the foundation of both generic and specific properties. But all substantial forms also include the specific difference, i.e., that which makes one species different from all others, that which is unique to a single species. For example, the definition of a man is “rational animal.” “Animal” in this case is the genus, “rational” is the specific difference. Because a man is an animal (a member of the genus “animal”) he shares certain properties and natural operations with all other animals—growth, nutrition, reproduction, instinct, habit, sensation, imagination—and these similarities with other, different kinds of things are due to the substantial form. Thus the substantial form is to some extent responsible for similarities among different kinds of things, as is li. But the specific difference of man's substantial form is unique to men, i.e., rationality. And it is this which ultimately makes a man the kind of thing he is and different from all other kinds of things. Li, however, contains nothing which is unique to any species. Li, as was argued above, is essentially the same in everything. The li of a man contains nothing that is not found in the li of a horse, a tree, or a pen. For example, man is not unique in that he possesses the four virtues. It should be remembered that Chu Hsi supports his contention that all things contain li by pointing out that they all manifest, to some extent, the four virtues. Man is unique, rather, because he alone is capable of fully manifesting them. But it is his ch’i, not his li, which makes this possible. All other things also possess the four virtues in potency, but because of their ch’i this is not always obvious. Therefore, li cannot be responsible for “kinds” in the way in which substantial form is responsible. Therefore, li cannot be equivalent to substantial form. If Chu Hsi can be said to recognize the existence of “kinds” (i.e., species) in the Aristotelian sense, then they must be said to be due to ch’i. It can, in fact, be argued that for Chu Hsi all differences are differences in degree among things which are composed of li, which is essentially the same in all, and ch’i, which is continuously variable in various aspects. Thus it might be siad, that the only differences Chu Hsi recognizes are accidental differences and that there is no place for substantial differences in the Aristotelian sense within his system. Therefore, there is no place for substantial form. Thus, li cannot be substantial form.

VII. PREVIOUS COMPARISONS OF LI AND SUBSTANTIAL FORM

Having presented arguments for the non-equivalence of li and substantial form, I turn now to a consideration of some of the discussions of the question of the relation of li and substantial form mentioned earlier.

Of those mentioned, only Fung, Sun, Needham and Bruce can be said to argue for their respective positions. Fung, on the one hand, argues that li is essentially the same as substantial form. Sun agrees but insists that li is more than this. Both cite passages from the works of Chu Hsi in support of their contentions. However, Sun cites the same passages as Fung. In addition, his discussion is inconsistent. Thus, only Fung will be considered in detail. On the other hand, Needham and Bruce agree that li and substantial form are not equivalent, although they argue along different lines. Thus each will be discussed separately.

As for the discussions of Carsun Chang and Stanislaus Sun, both can be dealt which quickly. Both hold that li is equivalent to substantial form while correctly pointing out that ch’i is responsible for all differences. As Chang says, “In the natural world different kinds of things exist,—men, animals, plants, inanimate bodies. For Chu Hsi, these dissimilarities are the result of the endowment of ch’i”.⁴⁴ According to Sun, “Things are many and different. These differences are not due to li, but [are] due to ch’i”.⁴⁵ Thus both disagree with this article's basic contention—that li is not equivalent to substantial form—while accepting the foundation of that contention—that according to Chu Hsi ch’i is responsible for all the differences among things, including specific differences. What neither seems to realize is that such an interpretation of the function of ch’i rules out the possibility that li can be equivalent to substantial form, since substantial form is responsible for certain differences, specific differences.

In support of his contention that “Li is just like what Greek philosophy called form^d”,⁴⁶ Fung Yu-lan cites various passages from the works of Chu Hsi which, as he interprets them seem to suggest that li is responsible for the differences which are attributed to substantial form. The most significant of these passages will be considered in the following.

The first such passage, as translated by Bodde, runs,

Question: How is it that dried up withered things also possess the nature (hsing)?”

Answer: “For them there has been from the beginning such a Principle (li). Therefore it is said that in the universe there is no single thing that lies beyond the nature (hsing).” As he walked on the steps, (the Master then) said: “The bricks of these steps have within them the Principle (li) that pertains to bricks.” And sitting down he said: “This bamboo chair has within it the Principle pertaining to bamboo chairs^r”.⁴⁷

How problematic this passage is for this chapter's contention that li is not equivalent to substantial form—i.e., that there is not a different kind of li for each different kind of thing—depends upon how the underlined sentences are translated. The first thing to notice that Chu Hsi is asked if “dried up withered things”—i.e., dead things—have li. The interlocutor apparently thinks of li as a principle of life and so he cannot see how dead things could have it. Chu Hsi affirms that even dead things have li, for all things have li. Thus, the question which initiates Chu Hsi's remarks about bricks and chairs is not whether different kinds of things have different kinds of li, but whether certain kinds of things have li at all. Therefore, Chu Hsi's reply should be read, not as making reference to different kinds of li, but as pointing out that not only do “dried up withered things” have li but even such things as bricks and chairs—things which are not only not alive but have never been alive—have li. The Chinese sentences themselves are ambiguous. The ambiguity is due to the facts that yu^t means both “to have” and “there is/are” and, that they include no definite article. The omission or inclusion of the definite article is quite significant. For we can read the sentences either as referring to “the li of bricks” or “the li of the bricks.” The latter is much less suggestive that bricks have a specific kind of li than the former. Therefore, if we translate yu as “have” and omit any definite article, we will get Bodde's translation: “The bricks of [these] steps have [within them] the Principle (li) that pertains to bricks.” If we translate yu as “there are” and add a definite article, we get a more literal translation: “As for the bricks of [these] steps, there is the li of the bricks.” Both translations are possible and neither is a forced reading. However, given the context, the latter is to be preferred because it is more suggestive of the idea that the statements about bricks and chairs are simply specific instances of the general assertion that all things have li.

Question: “Principle [li] is received from Heaven by both men and other creatures alike. But do inanimate things also possess Principle?”

Answer: “Certainly they possess Principle. For example, (the Principle of) a boat is that it can move only on water; of a cart, that it can move only on land.”⁴⁸

Although man-made objects are not generally considered to have substantial forms, this passage suggests that li is in some sense responsible for differences in kind, and Fung takes it as indicating that li is comparable to substantial form. The passage, however, is quoted out of context, and there is an interesting passage following it in the Ch’üan-shu which Fung does not quote.

Chi-T’ung said, “The ones on dry land cannot enter the water. The ones in the water cannot dwell on dry land. The ones on dry land have more yang and less yin. The ones in the water have more yin and less yang. As for the ones which can come out of the water and dwell on the dry land, the tortoise and otter are such.⁴⁹

In this passage, given the former passage about boats and carts, one would expect that the differences between land and waterdwelling creatures would also be attributed to li. However, here they are attributed to yin and yang—i.e., ch’i. Admittedly, these are the words of Chi T’ung, a pupil of Chu Hsi rather than the master himself, but they are neither qualified nor commented upon. This can be taken to indicate that Chu Hsi agreed with what was said. Therefore, this passage makes problematic the conclusion which Fung draws from the passage about boats and carts which immediately precedes it.

Finally, Fung quotes Chu Hsi and Bodde translates the passage as,

Question: “I have seen how in your reply-letter to Yu Fang-shu you maintain that even a dried up withered thing has Principle [li]. But I do not understand how such dried up things as a tile or a pebble should have this Principle.”

Answer: “(There is Principle) even for rhubarb or aconite. These too are dried up things, and yet rhubarb cannot act as aconite, nor can aconite act as rhubarb.”⁵⁰

Bodde suggests in a footnote that,

I.e., each can follow only its own specialized function. The dried leaves and stems of these plants are used in China for medicine.⁵¹

Thus, Bodde at least, interprets this passage as suggesting that differences in the effects of certain drugs are due to differences in their li; therefore, specific differences are due to li.

Bodde's translation is reasonable, but this passage must be compared with another:

Question: “Men, birds, and beasts certainly have consciousness. But consciousness has penetration and obstruction. Do grass and trees also have consciousness or not?”

Answer: “They also have it. For example, consider a potted flower. If we pour a little water upon it, then it blossoms. If we break it off, then it withers. Can we say that it is without consciousness? Chou Mao Shu did not cut the grass in front of his window. He said, ‘Its thoughts are exactly like my own thoughts.’ This then is having consciousness. It is just that the consciousness of birds and beasts is not like men's. As for the consciousness of grass and trees, it is not like that of birds and beasts. For example, consider rhubarb. If we consume it, then in a little while we will be purged. If we consume aconite, then in a little while we will become hot. This is just because their consciousness is only manifested in a single way (literally, ‘only follows this one road’).”⁵²

In these two different passages Chu Hsi attributes the differences in the effects of rhubarb and aconite to both li and consciousness. But for Chu Hsi, li and consciousness are not equivalent. This is clear from such passages as,

Question: “As for consciousness, is the mind's spirit certainly like this or is it the action of ch’i?”

Answer: “It is not solely ch’i. First there is the li of consciousness, but li is not conscious. Ch’i condenses and takes shape; li and ch’i are united; and then there can be consciousness.”⁵³

Thus, when asked about consciousness, Chu Hsi says that li is not conscious, and consciousness is not due solely to the ch’i. Consciousness is not the result of a conscious li coming to rest in unconscious ch’i. But if consciousness is a characteristic of the composite as a whole rather than one of the other of the components, then differences in consciousness will be among those differences between things which must be explained, rather than an explanation of the differences between things. Thus, if, with Fung, we hold that generic and specific differences are due to li, then we will hold that differences in consciousness are also due to li. Whereas, if we hold that generic and specific differences are due to ch’i, we will hold that differences in consciousness are also due to ch’i. Therefore, in these two passages in which Chu Hsi is not consistent in pointing out the source of certain important differences between things, the way in which these passages are interpreted and reconciled will depend upon our interpretation of Chu Hsi. The interpretation of these passages presupposes an interpretation of Chu Hsi rather than offering evidence in support of one or another interpretation. To cite one passage in support of the contention that li is the source of generic and specific differences without mentioning the other is misleading.

In this consideration of the most important textual evidence for Fung's thesis that li is equivalent to substantial form, all I have attempted to do is cast aspersions upon this textual support. It certainly cannot be denied that some passages seem to suggest that differences in kind are due to li. However, such passages are not common, and as I have tried to show, all are to some extent problematic. Admittedly, the passages Fung cites are problematic for the interpretation of li given in this paper, but they are all too vague to be sufficient textual support of the contention that li is equivalent to substantial form. The best Fung can do is present a handful of vague passages as compared to large numbers of clear passages which can be offered in support of the contention that li is not equivalent to substantial form. It would be significant if the passages which Fung cites were simply a sampling of a much larger number of such passages; but as far as I have been able to determine, these are literally almost all of the textual evidence Fung can offer. And these are so vague that they can be seen as supporting Fung's position only if one is already convinced of the truth of his interpretation of li as substantial form.

As for Needham's assertion that the equation of li and ch’i with “the form and matter of Platonic-Aristotelian philosophy … is entirely unacceptable”, he gives various reasons for it which prove to be a rather mixed lot.⁵⁵ Some of his comparisons and contrasts are potentially good but some of his statements are quite inaccurate.

One basic problem is that there is a certain amount of confusion in Needham's discussion which complicates any attempt to deal with it. For example, at one point he speaks of the relation of substantial form to things, and compares it to the relation of li to ch’i. To be consistent, Needham should compare either substantial form's relation to things with li's relation to things, or substantial form's relation to prime matter with li's relation to ch’i. The two relations are quite different.

A more serious problem is that the discussion betrays some fundamental misunderstandings of prime matter and substantial form. For example, he implies at one point that they are illusory or subjective and says at another that “matter is potentially form.” However, I am unaware of any interpretation of Aristotelian hylomorphism which viewed prime matter or substantial form as “illusory” or “subjective”. Further, the suggestion that matter is potentially form can only be based upon a misunderstanding of the relation of form as act and matter as potency. Matter is not potentially form in the sense that matter has the potential to become form. Matter is potentiality to form in the sense that it has the potentiality to become informed. But in this sense, ch’i could be said to be potentiality to li in that it has the potentiality to unite with li (become in-li-ed, as it were).

Thus, some of Needham's comparisons are potentially relevant, but some indicate a lack of real understanding of the notion of substantial form and its relationship to prime matter. However, even his correct contrasts between substantial form and li are beside the point since he misses the most essential contrast: substantial form is responsible for generic and specific differences while li is not. Chu Hsi does not use li to account for difference at all. Thus, Needham correctly rejects the equation of li and substantial form, but for the wrong reasons.

Bruce discussed at length the question, “Whether we have not here a system similar to that of the Greek philosophers, and whether Li does not constitute the type of each individual thing or class of things, the norm to which it conforms, in such a way as to make it practically identical with Aristotle's ‘form’.”⁵⁶ The answer, he continues, “cannot … be wholly in the affirmative,”⁵⁷ for Li, while suggestive of form, is essentially different from that conception.⁵⁸

In his discussion of the relationship between li and substantial form, Bruce comes quite close to self-contradiction. He says at one point that “the differences of form and function in the infinite variety of species are due in the ultimate to li as the controlling and directing principle.”⁵⁹ Later he says that “the differences between species and the differing degrees in which the ethical principles of which Li is composed are embodied in different individuals, are attributed to Ch’i rather than to Li.”⁶⁰ Bruce apparently feels that there is no problem in saying that the differences of form and function of species are ultimately due to li and also saying that the differences between species are attributable to ch’i.

Bruce gives two reasons why li is not identical with substantial form. The first is that li is an “ethical norm” while substantial form is not. However, according to Aristotle all beings have natural inclinations or operations—e.g., selfpreservation, reproduction, etc. An act is good insofar as it is in accordance with these natural inclinations and evil insofar as it is not. The source of these natural inclinations is the substantial form. Thus, the substantial form determines not only what a being is, but what a being should be. Men, for example, are rational animals. This is because of their substantial form. Thus, they have a natural inclination to act rationally. Therefore, acts in accordance with this tendency are good, and acts contrary to it are evil. Thus, the substantial form determines not only the kind of being a man is, but the type of behavior proper to him. In light of this conception of substantial form, if it does not satisfy Bruce's criteria for being an “ethical norm” (whatever they might be) then it is difficult to conceive what would satisfy the criteria.

Bruce's second reason why li is not identical with substantial form is that li is not responsible for the differences between species, while substantial form is. This is, of course, the basic contention of this article.

VIII. COMMENTS AND CONCLUSIONS

Fung's interpretation of Chu Hsi might be viewed as exemplifying the wishful thingking common to so many interpreters of Chinese philosophy. Like many of his generation he was, perhaps, disillusioned with his own tradition, but rather than rejecting it outright as did some of his contemporaries, he made a valiant attempt to reinterpret it. His work is perhaps best seen as an attempt to render Chinese philosophy palatable to Westerners by presenting it as essentially indistinguishable from Western philosophy.

Fung's philosophical sophistication is evident throughout his magnificent two-volume history as well as in his discussion of Chu Hsi. As a result he chooses his textual references very carefully. Significantly, he knows which texts to ignore as well as which texts to cite. He presents a carefully thought out, well-integrated interpretation which, however, is basically a conscious attempt to bring Chu Hsi into line with Aristotle rather than an accurate and objective presentation of Chu Hsi. In the final analysis it is simply not true to Chu Hsi's vision of reality.

Chang and Sun can be seen as taking their cue from Fung, although their presentations are more accurate than his insofar as they admit that Chu Hsi attributes all differences to ch’i. What they apparently did not realize was that one cannot have things both ways. One cannot equate li with substantial form and still attribute specific differences to ch’i.

While Needham and Bruce cannot be faulted in their interpretation of li insofar as their conclusions are concerned, both leave something to be desired as far as their approach to answering the question “Is li equivalent to substantial form?” is concerned. It would seem to be obvious that before one tries to answer the question, one should have a clear understanding, not only of li, but also of substantial form. But it is here that both Needham and Bruce can be said to fall short.

Needham's lack of understanding of substantial form is the more extreme. He dispenses sophisticated and rather technical characterizations of substantial form quite freely—“factor of individuation,” “that which gives rise to the unity of any organism,” “that which confers substantiality”—but his discussion is so confusing and the mistakes he makes are so elementary that his grasp of the function of substantial form is open to question. Given such misunderstandings, his correct conclusion with respect to the relation of substantial form and li is somewhat surprising.

As for Bruce, although he comes close to contradicting himself and his denial that substantial form is an ethical norm is wrong, it must be admitted that he has a good grasp of substantial form and its functions within a hylomorphic metaphysics. This, coupled with a sound understanding of li and its function within Chu Hsi's system, enables him, eventually, to put his finger precisely upon the essential difference between li and substantial form. However, his discussion and comparison of the two does leave something to be desired. It lacks focus and tends to ramble, and he devotes too much time to a presentation of poor evidence that li is “suggestive” of substantial form. Thus, his final conclusion that li and substantial form are not the same tends to be lost among the qualifications and so lose its impact.

In sum, it would seem that the most basic reason why the discussion of the relation of li and substantial form has dragged on for so long is, on the part of some, an out-and-out misunderstanding of substantial form and, on the part of others, an inadequate understanding of substantial form. A basic problem has been a consistent lack of appreciation of the fact that that which makes a thing the kind of thing it is, i.e., the substantial form, is also that which makes it different from other kinds of beings. If, for example, men are different from dogs and a man's substantial form is what makes him a man while a dog's substantial form is what makes it a dog, then in some way a man's substantial form must be different from a dog's. It has been a lack of understanding of this that has apparently prevented the parties in the dispute from realizing that Bruce had more or less settled the matter definitively fifty years ago.

The lesson for comparativists is obvious: we must really understand bot both terms the comparison. A superficial knowledge will not generally suffice to avoid serious mistakes. Most would agree that it is dangerous to assume that one's audience will know what one is talking about. But it can be just as dangerous to assume that one knows what one is talking about. Taking the time to state carefully and systematically the “obvious” can make one aware of one's own confusions and uncertainties, which can then hopefully be remedied before proceeding further. It is significant that not one of the scholars dealt with took the time to explicate, even minimally, substantial form. If they had done so, it would probably not have been necessary to write this article.

Notes

1. This article is based upon the fourth chapter of my dissertation entitled A Comparison of the Role of Prime Matter in the System of Francis Suarez (1548-1617) with that of Ch’i in the System of Chu Hsi (1130-1200). I wish to thank the directors of the dissertation, Profs. Jorge E. Gracia and Kenneth K. Inada of the State University of New York at Buffalo, for their patience and the invaluable suggestions and criticisms which they gave me while I was writing the dissertation. I wish also to thank Prof. Christina Madajewicz, formerly of the University of Warsaw. Most of the original research for this chapter was done under her direction and the most important ideas in it were first explored in the course of discussions of the philosophy of Chu Hsi with her.

2. Stanislas Le Gall, Tchou Hi: Sa Doctrine, Son Influence, 2nd. ed., Variétes Sinologique, No. 6, Shanghai, La Mission Catholique à l’Orphelinant de T’ousè-wè, p. 81.

3. J. Percy Bruce, Chu Hsi and Hsi Masters, London, Probsthain & Co., 1923, p. 113.

4. Bruce, p. 109.

5. Fung Yu-lan^e, Chung-kuo Che-hsüeh Shih^c, A History of Chinese Philosophy, 1934, rpt. Taiping, Taiping Foreign Publishing House, 1975, p. 903.

6. Fung Yu-lan, “The Philosophy of Chu Hsi,” trans. Derk Bodde, Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies, 7, 1942, 1-51.

7. Fung Yu-lan, A History of Chinese Philosophy, trans. Derk Bodde, 2 vols., Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1952, II, p. 542.

8. Joseph Needham, Science and Civilization in China, Vol. 2: History of Scientific Thought, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1956, p. 472.

9. Needham, p. 475.

10. Carsun Chang, The Development of Neo-Confucian Thought, 2 vols, New York, Bookman Associates, 1957, 1962, I, p. 244.

11. Wing-tsit Chan, A Sourcebook in Chinese Philosophy, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1963, p. 641.

12. Wing-tsit Chan, “Chu Hsi,” The Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Paul Edwards, 8 vols, New York, Macmillan & The Free Press, 1967, II, p. 111.

13. Stanislaus Sun, S. J., “The Doctrine of the “LI” in the Philosophy of Chu Hsi,” International Philosophical Quarterly, 6, 1966, 155-88.

14. “Hsing” has been universally translated as “nature” or “the nature.” However, it has been left untranslated because within the Aristotelian-Scholastic tradition “nature” refers to the substantial form as the internal principle of change. Since it is argued in this paper that li is not substantial form, it seems inconsistent to continue to translate “hsing”a as “nature.”

15. “T’ai4-chi2” has been variously translated as “supreme ultimate” (Fung, Bruce, Chang), “great ultimate” (Chan), and “great extreme” (M’Clatchie). It has been left untranslated here because neither “li” nor “hsing4” are translated.

16. See, for example: Fung, History, p. 551; Bruce, p. 193; Le Gall, p. 52, etc.

17. This is essentially the view of Bruce. See, e.g., pp. 109 and 136-7.

18. Fung, History, p. 536.

19. Fung, History, p. 537.

20. Fung, History, p. 552.

21. See, e.g., History, pp. 537-8.

22. Chu Hsi, Chu-Tzu Ch’üan-shu^j (Complete Works of Master Chu), 1714 ed. 66 bks. in 25 vols., bk. 49, p. 7b. Hereafter all references to this work will be abbreviated. This one would be abbreviated: CS 49, 7b. All translations are my own unless otherwise noted. For alternative translations see: Le Gall 94, #31; Thomas M’Clatchie, Confucian Cosmogony, London, Trübner and Co., 1874, p. 21, #31; Pang Ching-jen, L’idée de Dieu chez Malebranche et l’idée de li chez Tchou Hi, Paris, Librairie Philosophique J. Vrin, 1942, p. 79, #31. This passage has apparently been a source of problems for editors and/or typesetters. Le Gall includes the Chinese whith his translation and his edition reverses the order of ch’i and li in the second hypothetical proposition. Thus it reads, “If there is no li, then there is no ch’i.” Pang does not include the Chinese, but he translates the second hypothetical as, “s’il n’y a pas tel li, tel k’i n’existe pas non plus.” M’Clatchie also includes the Chinese with his translation, but in the second hypothetical he has the character for li in both antecedent and conclusion. Thus it would read, “If there is no li, then there is no li.” However, he translates it as, “Where the Air [ch’i] does not exist, there, Fate [li] does not exist.” The translation given here is of the sentence as it appears in the copy of the Ch’üan-shu to which I had access.

23. CS 42, 27a. For an alternative translation see Chu Hsi, The Philosophy of Human Nature, trans. J. Percy Bruce, London, Probsthain & Co., 1922, p. 60, #5. Hereafter all references to this work will be abbreviated. This reference would be abbreviated: HN 60, #5. See also Chan 620, #56.

24. CS 49, 14b. Chan 641, #121; Le Gall 103, #16; M’Clatchie 33, #16; Pang 84, #16.

25. Chu Hsi, Ta-Hsüeh Huo-Wen^k (Questions about the Great Learning), p. 3a. Quoted in Toshimizu Goto, Index to Chu-tsu's Philosophy, 3 vols., Hiroshima, Hiroshima Univ., 1955, II, p. 37.

26. Chu Hsi, Chu-Tzu Ta-Ch’üan^l (Complete Literary Works of Master Chu), 121 bks. in 12 vols., Sz Pu Pei Yao^m ed., 1927; rpt. Taipei, Taiwan Book Co., 1967, bk 59, pp 35a-b. Hereafter all references to this work will be abbreviated. This reference would be abbreviated: TC 59, 35a-b. All translations from this work were made with the help of Professors Kenneth K. Inada and Christina Madajewicz.

27. CS 42, 30a. Chan 623, #59; HN 65, #10.

28. CS 42, 27b. Chan 621, #57; HN 61, #6.

29. CS 42, 29b-30a. Chan 623, #59 and #60; HN 64-5, #’s 10, 11, and 12.

30. CS 42, 35a. HN 74, #5.

31. CS 42, 27b; 43, 7b. HN 61, #6; 91, #11.

32. Chan 621, note 111; Fung, History, 553, note 1; HN 91, note 2.

33. CS 43, 8a. HN 91, #11.

34. HN 91, note 2.

35. CS 42, 27a-b. Chan 621, #57; HN 60-1, #6.

36. CS 43, 7b-8a. HN 91, #11.

37. CS 42, 32b-33a. HN 69-70, #1.

38. CS 42, 28b. Chan, 622; HN 62-3, #8.

39. CS 42, 30a. HN 65.

40. CS 42, 34b. HN 73.

41. For this discussion of substantial form, the following were consulted: Thomas Harper, S. J., The Metaphysics of the School, 3 vols., 1879, rpt. New York, Peter Smith, 1940; Cardinal Mercier and Professors of the Higher Institute of Philosophy, Louvain, A Manual of Modern Scholastic Philosophy, trans. T. L. and S. A. Parker, 3rd. ed., 2 vols., St. Louis, B. Herder Book Co., 1950; Bernard Wuellner, S. J., Dictionary of Scholastic Philosophy, Milwaukee, Bruce Pub. Co., 1956. Of particular help was the discussion of substantial form and related terms in the Glossary to Professor Jorge Gracia's translation of Disputation 5 (“Individual Unity and Its Principle”) of Francis Suarez's Metaphysical Disputations. I wish to thank Prof. Gracia for graciously allowing me to use the manuscript.

42. CS 42, 28b. HN 63.

43. CS 42, 28a. Chan 621-2, #58; HN 62.

44. Chang, p. 261.

45. Sun, p. 175.

46. Fung, Che-hsüeh Shih, p. 903.

47. Fung, History, pp. 536-7. He quotes Chu Hsi, Chu-Tzu Yü-lei^s (Classified Conversations of Master Chu), bk. 4, p. 6. Hereafter, all references to this work will be abbreviated. This would be abbreviated YL 4, 6. See also CS 42, 29b. For alternative translations see: Chan 623, #59; HN 64-5, #10.

48. Fung, History, p. 536. He quotes YL 4, 6. The passage is also found in CS 42, 30a. See Chan 623, #60; HN 65, #12.

49. CS 42, 30a-b. HN 65-6, #13.

50. Fung, History, pp. 551-2. The passage is taken from YL 4, 6.

51. Fung, History, p. 552, note 1.

52. CS 42, 31b-32a. Chan 623, #61; HN 68, #17.

53. CS 44, 1a. HN 159, #5. Fung also quotes this passage, History, p. 556. He takes it from YL 5, 3.

54. Needham, p. 475.

55. See Needham, p. 475.

56. Bruce, p. 108.

57. Bruce, p. 108.

58. Bruce, p. 109.

59. Bruce, p. 112.

60. Bruce, p. 113.