As soon as my eyes have taken note of Professor George L. Israel’s tweet with what looked like a powerful statement in Classical Chinese, I thought I should use it for a relatively short post in my Substack. I have tried to find the original text in which this would be a fragment of, but I may very well be that it is in fact a succinct summary of what some scholar in China or the Sinosphere wrote down on a specific subject, not a literal quotation from such an author (I hope that someone, may be Professor Israel, could explain where the tweeted text comes from). Having performed an internet search for the term that both appears in the short text and serves as its topic, which is 君子之學, and having considered Professor Israel’s special interest, as can be inferred from his website, I believe it refers to a rather important thought expressed by the Chinese Neo-Confucian scholar Wáng Yángmíng 王陽明 (1472 - 1529). 君子之學, which may be translated as “Study conducted by a Virtuous Gentleman,” seems to appear multiple times in two of Wáng’s works, the first titled 靜心錄 Jìngxīnlù (my makeshift translation of that title would be “Records on a Tranquil Mind”), and the second sporting the title 悟真錄 Wùzhēnlù (suggested translation “Records on Becoming Aware of Reality”). My preliminary conclusion therefore is that in either of these two works, or maybe even in both, one could find statements which clearly and explicitly claim essentially the same as expounded in the Chinese text tweeted by Professor Israel. Even though the little text is steeped in the Neo-Confucian scholarly culture of old, I think the readers will appreciate it (thanks to, in part, my translation, I hope) and understand it as a powerful message on leading an upstanding life that is universal enough to be, in essence, still relevant for our “modern” ways. We shall now turn to that short text, which I will write down line-by-line, this time without the punctuation signs and in traditional Chinese characters, with the transcription into modern Mandarin pronunciation (Pinyin), the translation of the line and, finally, further remarks on that translation.

君子之學唯求自得

jūnzi zhī xué wéi qiú zìdé

“Study conducted by a virtuous gentleman only seeks to realize oneself.”

Comments:

• 君子 jūnzi is a very liberally used term by scholars in the Sinosphere, especially so in Confucian circles. In A Student’s Dictionary of Classical and Medieval Chinese1 we find the following remark on the meaning of 君子 jūnzi, which would fit very well here: “from Warring States period on, most often philosophical term ref. someone not noble-born but whose behavior conforms with the moral ideal of what a nobleman should be: gentleman, man of noble character or disposition.”

• 君子之學 jūnzi zhī xué consists of the already explained 君子 jūnzi, the character 之 zhī, which here is to be considered a genitive marker, and 學 xué, which means “study” in the meaning of “making strenuous efforts to learn and, by doing so, become a better human being.” This phrase could therefore be translated as “the/a/(no article) study of the/a/(no article) virtuous gentleman.” I have a feeling, however, that the genitive here rendered with the preposition “of” would sound a bit too much like a genitive object (i.e. it would be read as the study conducted on virtuous gentleman, or even (plural) virtuous gentlemen, whereas it would be, in the given context, be more sensible to perceive it as a genitive subject (i.e. the study is conducted by a virtuous gentleman, or, if you will, virtuous gentlemen). From this my translation choice here follows logically.

• 唯 wéi is an adverb meaning “only, merely.” It typically precedes a verb, as it does here.

• 求 qiú is a verb with many meanings, but here only the meaning “to seek,” “to aim for” would make sense (I would be happy to read any thoughts from my readers’ to the contrary, though!).

• 自得 zìdé would be the direct object of the verb 求 qiú above. This combination of two characters is lexicalized in the aforementioned A Student’s Dictionary of Classical and Medieval Chinese as meaning “self-possessed, complacent.” It could also easily mean “possession of oneself” or “complacency” if one nominalizes the two translations given. “Complacency” would not do honour to the intention of the author, who certainly intended to regard 自得 zìdé as something noble, namely the goal of the upstanding 君子 jūnzi. Self-possession is already much more acceptable, but I have a feeling that the author of the Chinese text has something more like “self-actualization” in mind. After all, in Confucian thought (and I do think that the text is Confucian in nature!), the human being is considered intrinsically good, and therefore by acquiring or actualizing (得 dé) one’s self (自 zì) through study (which is also referred to in the very same line!) a human being (the dormant 君子 jūnzi), becomes a living example of the moral ideal (the real, awakened 君子 jūnzi).

不以毁輿爲欣戚

bù yǐ huǐyú wéi xīnqī

“He shall not consider lambasting commonly held opinions a matter of joy or grief.”

Comments:

• 不 bù is a negative adverb used before a verb, in this case the verb is 以 yǐ, which functions here in collaboration with another verb, 爲 wéi. See the comment below.

• 以 … 爲 … yǐ … wéi are verbs used often in combination with each other to mean “to use 以 something (that something follows this character 以 as its direct object) as / in the function of / for the sake of (indicated by the second verb 爲 with its direct object),” or in a so-called putative sense, in which case it is often construed as “to regard something (that something being the direct object of 以, thus directly following it) as something (described as the direct object of the character 爲, again directly following the character as its direct object). I would opine that the latter, putative interpretation here would be correct here.

• 毁輿 huǐyú. Syntactically, these two characters do not pose any problem: They can be readily identified as the direct object of the (con)verb 以 yǐ2 . I find it difficult, however, to determine the meaning of this combination of two characters. I think the best interpretation, i.e. the interpretation that would make the most sense here, I can come up with is "trashing (castigating) (represented by 毁 huǐ, whose primary meaning is "to destroy, to lay waste") the common opinion (beliefs or convictions held by the masses / majority" (輿 yú has many possible meanings, and its semantic versatility is what makes me quite unsure as to whether this interpretation would be completely correct). I am aware that I am going out on a limb here, therefore I am open to other suggestions on how to interpret this 毁輿 huǐyú here.

• 欣戚 xīnqī here is clearly to mean “happiness/joy and sadness.” The character 欣 xīn is far more commonly used to refer to an emotion than 戚 qī, which has a rather vast array of different and very divergent meanings, but the combination 欣戚 xīnqī has been lexicalized in many dictionaries as a term to denote “happiness and sadness” or similar. With all the comments on this second line of the text, I would opine that the author intends to point out that attacking common held beliefs should not be done for the sake of thrills, nor that it should be refrained from, because it might cause distress for the one going against the communis opinio: It is to be done when it is necessitated by objective moral criteria, regardless of any emotions involved.

不爲世俗較是非

bù wéi shìsú jiào shìfēi

“Not for the sake of common folks’ customs shall he determine what is right and what is wrong.”

Comments:

• Again the line starts with the negation by means of 不 bù, which in this case negates the next verb, 爲 wéi.

• 爲 wéi often works as a converb, in that it often indicates for which or whose sake the action (described by a verb further down the same sentence, which would be the main verb, the main verb in this sentence would be 較 jiào, which we will discuss in a comment below.

• 世俗 shìsú is a readily lexicalized unit consisting of two characters, but it is still difficult to determine its meaning in this (probably Confucian or Neo-Confucian) context. It is often taken to mean “secular,” and as a noun it may be interpreted as “secular domain” or “secular world.” This would fit in a Buddhist setting, but “secular” would sound off if used in context of the scholarly world of Confucians who, moreover, actively engage in the worldly world (ha!) of politics. I think, however, that analogous to the secular world for Buddhists, 世俗 shìsú here indicates the part of the everyday world Confucian scholars tend to steer clear of, which would be primarily, the common folks and their (uneducated, of course, and coarse) beliefs and customs, hence my decision to translate it as “common folks’ customs.” In fact, it may even be broader in range, namely “anything that is below the proper standards of a cultured man.”

• 較 jiào is a verb meaning “to compare,” but I do believe that it signifies in this line “to determine the right-and-the-wrong (是非 shìfēi). It might even make sense in the cultural context given that Confucian scholars were primarily interested in determining the correct ways of going about in life, and sometimes functioned as judges who adjudicated legal cases.

• 是非 shìfēi here is clearly the direct object of the verb 較 jiào. The first character signifies “right,” i.e. “what is right, correct,” the second “wrong,” i.e. “what is wrong.” We can now arrive at the conclusion, that the third line stresses that a noble man does not make considerations for whatever thoughts, practices or beliefs may be around that do not belong in the world of the Confucian scholar, especially not in questions of morality and ethics.

不以榮辱亂所守

bù yǐ róngrǔ luàn suǒshǒu

“Not out of concern of his reputation will he put what has been preserved in disarray.”

Comments:

• We may assume that the readers by now has amply acquainted themselves with the negative adverb 不 bù.

• Here the (con)verb 以 yǐ indicates the reason, which is indicated by its direct object directly following it (in this case that would be 榮辱 róngrǔ. Of course, it is negated on account of preceding 不 bù.

• 榮辱 róngrǔ consists of two characters that may be considered antonyms of each other 榮 róng means “honour,” while 辱 rǔ stands for “dishonour” ; “affront” ; “blemish.” These characters combined would signify here all reputation-related, both positive and negative.

• 亂 luàn means “to disturb” ; “to put into disarray” ; “to cause (direct object) to be in a state of chaos.” It is (almost) always used in a negative sense.

• 所守 suǒshǒu “what has been preserved,” “what has been observed.” 所 suǒ may best be regarded as a relative pronoun marking the patient (in the grammatical sense, explained here) of the transitive verb directly following it (here that is 守 shǒu “to defend,” “to uphold,” “to preserve”). This line makes clear that a true noble gentleman does not put an end or confuse time-honoured customs, just because he wishes to go down in history as someone with a special reputation.

不以生死二其心

bù yǐ shēngsǐ èr qí xīn

“Not because of matters of life or death will he compromise his mind.”

Comments:

• 不 bù and 以 yǐ function in this sentence in the very same way as in the previous line.

• 生死 shēngsǐ, here obviously the direct object of the (con)verb 以 yǐ, signifies “life (生 shēng) and death (死 sǐ),” in very much the same way as in English, this life-and-death taken together refers to anything so dangerous that one may lose one’s life.

• 二 èr, usually taken to mean “two,” functions as the main verb here. It has 其心 qí xīn as its direct object. It may be best explained as a verb in a factitive sense, i.e. a verb meaning “to make two,” “to divide up.” With 心 xīn as the main component of the direct object, meaning “mind,” I am led to believe that “to compromise the mind” would be an acceptable translation, while I tend to think that “to corrupt the mind” is too strong, and something in the vein of “to have second thoughts,” on the other hand, would be too mild.

• 其心 qí xīn means “his mind.” We have already treated 心 xīn shortly yet adequately in the comment above. 其 qí here is the third person pronoun possessive (which can mean, depending on the context “his,” “her,” “its,” “their.” It could have been omitted in the sentence, were it not that each line-cum-sentence was to consist of seven characters.