Preface to Chan Remainder: External Collection

Throughout history, writing has been traditionally classified into three types: the writings of virtue, the writings of scholarship, and the writings of talent and emotion. What the world celebrates most is merely scholarship and talent-emotion. As for writings of virtue, there have been plenty since the Six Classics, but those who can create such works have always been rare, and those who truly understand them are even fewer.

Master Yongjue focused on Confucian classics in his early years and excelled in the Neo-Confucian teachings of Zhu Xi and Cheng Hao. In his prime, he abandoned these pursuits and entered the meditation community of Shouchang Monastery. After a long time, he returned to Fujian and resided at Gushan Monastery in Fuzhou. His disciples compiled his manuscripts and published them. The Master himself titled this collection "Chanlin Waiji" (Casual Writings Outside of Chan).

In the spring of 1637, several officials from Zhejiang invited the Master to reside at Zhenji Monastery in Hangzhou. His disciples continued to collect his works beyond what had been printed, eventually gathering eight volumes and twelve sections. I then edited and published them.

How could I claim to truly understand the Master? However, as I read his writings, I saw he did not indulge in talent and emotion—yet without possessing such gifts, he could never have reached this level. He did not stitch together scholarly knowledge—yet without profound learning, he could never have expressed such insights. His word, straightforward and natural, resemble spring’s creative power, leaving no trace to be found. They are also like the lofty melody "White Snow," which is beyond common ears’ appreciation.

I have often witnessed him writing swiftly, producing a thousand words at once—each piece perfectly satisfying and sincere. His works illuminate the subtle and reveal the profound, daring to say what ancient and modern writers dare not say—yet all expressed in plain, harmonious, and refined language, free from any difficult, grandiose, or ornate tendencies. Is this not precisely the writings of virtue?

The Master received the Dharma seal of Shouchang Monastery, his enlightened wisdom perfectly rounded, and he was hailed as foremost within the Buddhist community. His sincere heart and true practice were without flaw, allowing him to walk side by side with the ancient sages, setting an example for later scholars. He is rightly called the "pillar amid the declining currents." That his writings reflect such qualities is only natural. How could he be compared to those merely skilled in scholarship or talent and emotion?

I know well my shallow understanding hardly qualifies me to write the preface for such work. I realize that presumptuously touching these precious pearls and jades brings undeniable fault. Still, let this words express my lifelong admiration and personal devotion.

Written by your humble disciple, Chen Guan, a Presented Scholar, Grand Master of the Central Council, and Prefect of Changzhou Prefecture, on the full moon day of the eighth month, autumn of the Chongzhen year Gengchen (1640).