Chinese Religion: An Overview

In Lindsay Jones, ed., Encyclopedia of Religion, 2nd ed.
(Detroit : Macmillan Reference USA, 2005)

A revised and expanded version of Daniel L. Overmyer's article in the 1st edition (1986),
by Joseph A. Adler

• Introduction
• Early Historical Period
  • The Shang
  • The Zhou
  • Confucius
  • Mozi
  • Mengzi
  • Xunzi
  • Early Daoist Thought
  • The Quest for Immortality
  • Spirit mediums
• The Beginnings of Empire
  • The Qin
  • The Han
  • The Period of Disunion
  • The Beginnings of Buddhism in China
  • The Rise of Daoist Religion
• The Consolidation of Empire: Seventh to Fourteenth Century
  • Manichaeism, Nestorian Christianity, Judaism, and Islam
  • Tang Buddhism
  • Tang Daoism
  • Daoism in the Song and Yuan Periods
  • The Revival of Confucianism
  • Song Buddhism
  • Popular Religion
• The Period of Mongol Rule
• Ming and Qing Religion
  • Ming Dynasty
  • Qing Dynasty
  • The End of Empire and Postimperial China
• Bibliography

[This article provides an introduction to the rise and development of various religious movements, themes, and motifs over time. Its emphasis is on historical continuities and on the interaction of diverse currents of Chinese religious thought and practice from the prehistoric era to the present].

The study of Chinese religion presents both problems and opportunities for the general theory of religion. It is therefore instructive, before embarking on a historical survey, to outline a theoretical approach that will accomodate the wide variety of beliefs and practices that have traditionally been studied under the rubric of religion in China.

One indicator of the problematic nature of the category "religion" in Chinese history is the absence of any pre-modern word that is unambiguously associated with the category. The modern Chinese word zongjiao was first employed to mean "religion" by late 19^th-century Japanese translators of European texts. Zongjiao (or shky in Japanese) is a compound consisting of zong (sh), which is derived from a pictogram of an ancestral altar and most commonly denotes a "sect," and jiao (ky), meaning "teaching." (The compound had originally been a Chinese Buddhist term meaning simply the teachings of a particular sect.) Zongjiao/shky thus carries the connotation of "ancestral" or sectarian teachings. The primary reference of this newly-coined usage for shky in the European texts being translated was, of course, Christianity. And since Christianity does in fact demand exclusive allegiance and does emphasize doctrinal orthodoxy (as in the various credos), zongjiao/shky is an apt translation for the concept of religion that takes Christianity as its standard or model.

Part of the problem arising from this situation is that Chinese (and Japanese) religions in general do not place as much emphasis as Christianity does on exclusivity and doctrine. And so Chinese, when asked to identify what counts as zongjiao in their culture, are often reluctant to include phenomena that Westerners would be willing to count as religion, because the word "religion" - while notoriously difficult to define - does not carry the same connotations as zongjiao.

Before the adoption of zongjiao, jiao itself ("teaching") came closest, in usage, to the meaning of "religion." Since at least the Ming dynasty (1368-1644), the standard rubric for discussing the religions of China was san jiao, or the "three teachings," referring to Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism. Yet this is problematic too, as it excludes what today is usually called "popular religion" (or "folk religion"), which throughout Chinese history has probably accounted for more religious behavior than the "three teachings" combined. This exclusion is more than a matter of usage: jiao does not apply well to popular religion beause popular religion is strongly oriented toward religious action or practice; it has very little doctrine and, apart from independent sects, no institutionally-recognized canonical texts in which doctrines would be presented.

Although constituting a standard chapter in modern Western surveys of Chinese religion, Confucianism is very often described as something other than a religion in the strict (yet poorly defined) sense. There was a time in Western scholarship when Buddhism was occasionally described in similar fashion, although outside the most conservative theological frameworks that is no longer the case. But the status of Confucianism, even in academic circles focused on Chinese religion, is still disputed.

The problematic nature of Confucianism vis-à-vis religion is the most compelling reason to suggest at the outset a conceptual framework in which all the varieties of Chinese religion can be understood. In effect this is a "definition" of religion, although it should not be considered an exclusive definition. It is, instead, one way of conceptualizing religion that is well-suited to its subject - i.e. that makes particularly good sense of Chinese religion - and that sheds light not only on the non-controversial forms of Chinese religion but also on those forms that might be excluded by some definitions. But it should be acknowledged that, since religion is a multi-dimensional set of complex human phenomena, no single definition (short of a laundry list of common characteristics) should be expected to capture its essence. Indeed, perhaps religion has no essence.

The concept of religion that will be presumed here is that religion is a means of ultimate transformation and/or ultimate orientation. This is an elaboration of a definition proposed by the Buddhologist Frederick Streng, who suggested that religion is "a means to ultimate transformation" (Streng, p. 2). "Ultimate transformation" implies (1) a given human condition that is in some way flawed, unsatisfactory, or caught in a dilemma; (2) a goal that posits a resolution of that problem or dilemma; and (3) a process leading toward the achievement of the goal. This formula is well-suited to Chinese religions because the concept of transformation (hua) is in fact a highly significant element in Confucian, Daoist, and Chinese Buddhist thought and practice. The qualifier "ultimate" means that the starting point, process, and goal are defined in relation to whatever the tradition in question believes to be absolute or unconditioned. "Ultimate orientation" introduces an aspect of Mircea Eliade's theory of sacred space and sacred time: spatial orientation to an axis mundi or "sacred pole," a symbolic connection between heaven and earth; or temporal orientation marked in reference to periods of sacred ritual time, such as annual festivals. This addition to Streng's definition accounts for certain popular practices that are not conceived in terms of ultimate transformation. Much of the contemporary practice of Chinese popular religion - such as worship and sacrifice for such mundane ends as success in school or business - can be explained in terms of ultimate orientation. And Confucianism, the most problematic strand of Chinese religion, can clearly be seen as a "means of ultimate transformation" toward the religious goal of "sagehood" (sheng), a term whose religious connotations are suggested, for example, by the use of the same word to translate the Jewish and Christian "Holy Scriptures" (shengjing).

The geographic scope of Chinese religions extends from mainland China to Taiwan, Singapore, Southeast Asia, and scattered Chinese communities throughout the world. Although religion in the Peoples Republic of China on the mainland was harshly suppressed from the 1950s through the 1970s, and indeed almost disappeared during that period, there has been considerable (although not untroubled) revitalization since the early 1980s. Our discussion of religion in Chinese history up to the middle of the twentieth century will be limited to mainland China; only after that point will it extend to the rest of the Chinese world, with a focus on Taiwan.

Contemporary Chinese religion is the product of continuous historical development from prehistoric times. In that period the area of present-day China was inhabited by a large number of tribal groups. In around 5000 B.C.E. several of these tribes developed agriculture and began to live in small villages surrounded by their fields. Domesticated plants and animals included millet, rice, dogs, pigs, goats, sheep, cattle, and silkworms. The physical characteristics of these early agriculturalists were similar to those of modern Chinese. The archaeological record indicates gradual development toward more complex technology and social stratification. By the late Neolithic period (beginning around 3200 B.C.E.) there were well-developed local cultures in several areas that were to become centers of Chinese civilization later, including the southeast coast, the southwest, the Yangze River valley, the northeast, and the northern plains. The interaction of these cultures eventually led to the rise of literate, bronze-working civilizations in the north, the Xia (before 1500 B.C.E.) and Shang (c. 1500-1050 B.C.E.). The existence of the Xia kingdom is attested in early historical sources that have otherwise been shown to accord with archaeological discoveries. However, archaeologists are still debating whether the Xia period constituted a state-level "dynasty," as it has traditionally been described. The Shang has been archaeologically verified, beginning with the excavation of one of its capitals in 1928.

There is some evidence for prehistoric religious activities, particularly for a cult of the dead, who were often buried in segregated cemeteries, supine, with heads toward a single cardinal direction. In some sites houses and circles of white stones are associated with clusters of graves, while in others wine goblets and pig jaws are scattered on ledges near the top of the pit, perhaps indicating a farewell feast. There seems to have been a concern for the precise ordering of ritual acts, perhaps an early version of the importance of universal order or pattern in later Chinese cosmology. In the Wei River area, secondary burial was practiced, with bones from single graves collected and reburied with those of from twenty to eighty others. Grave offerings are found in almost all primary burials, with quantity and variety depending on the status of the deceased; tools, pottery vessels, objects of jade and turquoise, dogs, and, in some cases, human beings. Jade, in particular - a substance that does not break down and requires extraordinary skill and effort to carve with the simplest of tools - was associated with high-status burials and perhaps symbolized the eternity of the afterlife. The bi (a flat disk with a central hole) and cong (a tube, square on the outside and circular inside) were jade mortuary objects - apparently not used in life - whose meanings have not been determined. The bodies and faces of the dead were often painted with red ochre, a symbol of life. All of these practices constitute the prehistoric beginnings of Chinese ancestor worship. Other evidence for prehistoric religion includes deer buried in fields and divination through reading cracks in the dried shoulder bones of sheep or deer. This form of divination, attested in what is now northeast China by 3560-3240 B.C.E., is the direct antecedent of similar practices in historical times. Buried deer suggest offerings to the power of the soil, a common practice in later periods.

Early Historical Period

The early historical period (Shang and Zhou kingdoms) saw the development of many of the social and religious beliefs and practices that continue to this day to be associated with the Chinese. Although obvious links with the earlier period persist, it is with the emergence of these kingdoms that the religious history of the Chinese properly begins.

The Shang. The formation of the Shang kingdom was due to technological innovation such as bronze casting, and to the development of new forms of social and administrative control. Extant evidence provides information about the religion of the Shang aristocracy, characterized in the first place by elaborate graves and ceremonial objects for the dead. Grave offerings include decapitated human beings, horses, dogs, large numbers of bronze vessels, and objects of jade, stone, and shell. Some tombs were equipped with chariots hitched to horses. These tomb offerings indicate a belief that afterlife for members of the royal clan was similar to that of their present existence, but in a heavenly realm presided over by the Shang high god Di ("Lord") or Shangdi ("Lord on High").

The major sources for our understanding of Shang religion are inscriptions on oracle bones and in bronze sacrificial vessels. From these we learn that the most common recipients of petition and inquiry were the ancestors of the royal clan. These deified ancestors were believed to have powers of healing and fertility in their own right, but also could serve as intermediaries between their living descendants and more powerful gods of natural forces and Shangdi. Ancestors were ranked by title and seniority, with those longest dead having the widest authority. Since they could bring harm as well as aid to their descendants, it was necessary to propitiate the ancestors to ward off their anger as well as to bring their blessing. Nature deities named in the inscriptions personify the powers of rivers, mountains, rain, wind, and other natural phenomena. Shangdi, whose authority exceeded that of the most exalted royal ancestor, served as a source of unity and order. [See Shangdi.]

To contact these sacred powers the Shang practiced divination and sacrificial rituals, usually closely related to each other. In divination, small pits were bored in the backs of turtle plastrons or the shoulder blades of oxen or sheep. Heated bronze or wooden rods were placed in these impressions, causing the bones to crack with a popping sound. Diviners then interpreted the pattern of the cracks on the face of the bone, perhaps combined with the sound of the popping, to determine yes or no answers to petitions. The subjects of divination include weather, warfare, illness, administrative decisions, harvests, royal births (with the preference for sons that was to continue throughout Chinese history already present) and other practical issues, but the most frequent type of inquiry was in reference to sacrifices to ancestors and deities. Sacrifices to ancestors and spirits residing above consisted mainly of burning meat and grain on open air altars; gods of the earth were offered libations of fermented liquors, and those of bodies of water given precious objects such as jade. Sacrificial animals included cattle, dogs, and sheep. Human beings were sacrificed during the funeral rituals of kings, presumably to serve them in the afterlife. At least one powerful woman was also buried with human sacrifices, in addition to thousands of precious objects (bronze and jade objects, cowrie shells). This was Fu Hao (Lady Hao), the wife of King Wuding, around 1200 B.C.E., who apparently commanded an army during her lifetime and was given sacrifices after her death.

The Shang had a ten-day week, and the titles of the deified royal ancestors corresponded to the day on which sacrifice was made to them. Thus their personal characteristics were less significant than their seniority and their place in the ritual cycle. In the sacrifices themselves what was most important was the proper procedure; the correct objects offered in the right way were believed to obligate the spirits to respond. Thus, in Shang sacrifice we already see the principle of reciprocity, which has remained a fundamental patten of interaction throughout the history of Chinese religions. In Shang theology the king played the role of intermediary between the human and heavenly realms. He was responsible for maintaining harmonious relations with his ancestors, Di, and the other deities, and so ensuring their blessings on the realm. The considerable expenditures of time and resources devoted to sacrifice and divination in the Shang court suggest that the authority of the king depended in part on his role as the pivot between heaven and earth.

The Zhou. There are many references in Shang oracle bone texts to a people called Zhou who lived west of the Shang center, in the area of modern Shanxi Province. The Zhou, who were considered to be an important tributary state, were at first culturally and technologically inferior to the Shang, but learned rapidly and by the eleventh century B.C.E. challenged the Shang for political supremacy. The final Zhou conquest took place in about 1050 B.C.E.. Remnants of the Shang royal line were allowed to continue their ancestral practices in the small state of Song, in exchange for pledging loyalty to the Zhou.

The Zhou system of government has been loosely called "feudal," but it differed from European feudalism in that the peasants were not legally bound to the land, and the local lords (gong, or "dukes") owed allegiance to the central king (wang) based not on law but on bonds of kinship. The king directly ruled only a small territory around the capital city, Chang'an, which was located in the Wei River valley near present-day Xi'an. He controlled an army, which frequently was joined by armies of the various dukes. The Zhou kings were the first to call themselves "Son of Heaven" (Tianzi), a term that continued to be applied to the later emperors of China up to the early 20^th century. Corollary to their identity as Son of Heaven, they alone had the right and responsibility to make annual sacrifices to Heaven. This too was a practice that lasted until the 20^th century.

The Zhou dynasty lasted, nominally, almost 800 years, making it the longest-lasting dynasty in world history. But in fact their power and their territory remained intact only until 771 B.C.E., when the king was assassinated and the capital was moved eastward to the more easily defended Luoyang. The periods corresponding to these two capitals are called Western Zhou (1050-771) and Eastern Zhou (771-221). The Eastern Zhou was a period of increasing fragmentation, and is further divided into the Spring and Autumn period (722-476) and the Warring States period (475-221). The former is named after a chronicle of the state of Lu, in contemporary Shandong Province, covering these years and traditionally attributed to Confucius (Lu was Confucius's home state). The latter period, as the name implies, saw almost constant warfare, as the last seven major states (formerly Zhou fiefdoms) battled it out until only one was left standing, the Qin.

The Western Zhou period, especially the periods of the earliest kings, was regarded by later Chinese thinkers as a golden age of enlightened, benevolent rule by sage-kings. They especially revered the first two kings, Wen and Wu (whose names mean "culture" and "military," respectively), and King Wu's brother, the Duke of Zhou, whose "fief" was the state of Lu (later to be Confucius' home state). But it was the Eastern Zhou, the period of political disintegration, that witnessed the origins of classical Chinese civilization. It was during this era - sometimes called the Period of the Hundred Philosophers - that Confucianism, Taoism, and many other schools of thought began.

Unlike the sources available to us regarding Shang religion, which are limited to oracle bones and inscriptions on bronze ritual vessels, there are enough Zhou sources to allow us say something about the religion of common people as well that of the aristocracy. Both commoners and elite believed in gods, ghosts, ancestors, and omens (the significance to human beings of unusual phenomena in nature) and practiced divination, sacrifice, and exorcism. The common ground shared by the elite and the common people was much more extensive than their differences, which for the most part were differences in emphasis and interpretation. These distinctions begin to emerge in the Western Zhou and become clearer in the Eastern Zhou or Classical period.

The early Zhou elite, as might be expected, were chiefly concerned with their aristocratic ancestors, the powerful ruling gods, and political matters, while the common people had more interaction with lower gods, demons, and ghosts that inhabited the world and generally made trouble for people. The Zhou ancestors were believed to reside in a celestial court presided over by Tian, "Heaven," the Zhou high god, similar to Shangdi in scope and function although less personalized. The ancestors had power to influence the prosperity of their descendants, their fertility, health, and longevity. Through ritual equation with deities of natural forces the ancestors could also influence the productivity of clan lands. In addition, royal ancestors served as intermediaries between their descendants and Tian. [See Tian.]

Ancestral rituals took the form of great feasts in which the deceased was represented by an impersonator, usually a grandson or nephew. In these feasts the sharing of food and drink confirmed vows of mutual fidelity and aid. The most important ancestor worshiped was Hou Ji, who was both legendary founder of the ruling house and the patron of agriculture. As was true for the Shang, Zhou rituals were also directed toward symbols of natural power such as mountains and rivers; most significant natural phenomena were deified and worshipped. The proper time and mode of such rituals were determined in part by divination, which in the Zhou involved both cracking bones and turtle plastrons and the manipulation of dried stalks of the yarrow or milfoil plant. Divination was also employed in military campaigns, the interpretation of dreams, the siting of cities, and in many other situations involving important decisions.

Milfoil divination became the method at the core of the Zhouyi, or Changes of Zhou, a divination manual that acquired philosophical commentaries and became known as the Yijing, or Scripture of Change, part of the earliest Confucian canon. The Yijing classifies human and natural situations by means of sixty-four sets of six horizontal lines (hexagrams), each of which is either broken or solid. The solid lines represent qian or Heaven, the creative or initiating force of nature, while the broken lines represent kun or earth, which receives and completes. The permutations of these fundamental principles, according to early Chinese cosmology, constitute the patterns or principles of all possible circumstances and experiences. Through ritual manipulation involving chance divisions the milfoil stalks are arranged in sets with numerical values corresponding to lines in the hexagrams. One thereby obtains a hexagram that reflects one's present situation; additional line changes indicate the direction of change, and thus a potential outcome. Contemplation of these hexagrams clarifies decisions and provides warning or encouragement.

The Yijing is essentially a book of wisdom for personal and administrative guidance, used since at least the seventh century B.C.E.. However, from the sixth century B.C.E. on commentaries were written to amplify the earliest level of the text, and by the first century C.E. there were seven such levels of exposition, some quite philosophical in tone. The Scripture of Change was believed to reflect the structure of the cosmic order and its transformations, and hence became an object of reverent contemplation in itself. Its earliest levels antedated all the philosophical schools, so it belonged to none, though the Confucians later claimed it as sacred scripture. The polarity of qian and kun provided a model for that of yang and yin, first discussed in the fourth century B.C.E.. The Yijing's sometimes obscure formulations gave impetus to philosophical speculations throughout the later history of Chinese thought.

A third focus of Zhou worship, in addition to ancestors and nature gods, was the she, a sacred earth mound located in the capital of each state and in at least some villages. The state she represented the sacred powers of the earth available to a particular domain, and so was offered libations upon such important occasions in the life of the state as the birth of a prince, ascension to rule, and military campaigns. Beside the earth mound stood a sacred tree, a symbol of its connection to the powers of the sky. The she was an early form of the shrine to the earth-god, or tudigong, which is a prominent part of Chinese popular religion today.

The early Zhou aristocracy carried out sacrificial rituals to mark the seasons of the year and promote the success of farming. These sacrifices, performed in ancestral temples, were offered both to the high god Tian and to ancestors. These and other Zhou rituals were elaborate dramatic performances involving music, dancing, and archery, concluding with feasts in which much wine was consumed.

The most distinctive early Zhou contribution to the history of Chinese religions was the theory of tianming, the "mandate of Heaven," first employed to justify the Zhou conquest of the Shang and attributed to the Duke of Zhou. According to this theory, Heaven as a high god wills order and peace for human society. This divine order is to be administered by virtuous kings who care for their subjects on Heaven's behalf. These kings are granted divine authority to rule, but only so long as they rule well. If they become indolent, corrupt, and cruel, the "mandate of Heaven" can be transferred to another line. This process can take a long time and involve many warnings to the ruler in the form of natural calamities and popular unrest. Those who heed such warnings can repent and rehabilitate their rule; otherwise, the mandate can be claimed by one who promises to restore righteous administration. In practice it is the victors who claim the mandate, as did the founding Zhou kings, on the grounds of the alleged indolence and impiety of the last Shang ruler. The idea of the mandate of Heaven has gripped the Chinese political imagination ever since. It became the basis for the legitimacy of dynasties, the judgment of autocracy, and the moral right of rebellion. This status it owed in part to its support by Confucius and his school, who saw the mandate of Heaven as the foundation of political morality. The corollary notion that Heaven has a moral will was the first formulation of what later became a foundation principle of Confucian thought: that human moral values are ground in the natural world.

Commoners during the Zhou period had less reason to trust in the moral will of Heaven, as the lives they led were more subject to hardships imposed by capricious natural phenomena than those of the ruling elite. The Scripture of Odes (Shijing), for example, contains the following verse that probably reflects the feelings of common people:

Great Heaven, unjust,
Is sending down these exhausting disorders.
Great Heaven, unkind,
Is sending down these great miseries (trans. Poo, p. 37).

While such sentiments were undoubtedly not limited entirely to the common people, they are strikingly at odds with the concept of a moral, just Heaven. Commoners' beliefs were closely tied to the agricultural cycle and the negative or dangerous spiritual forces inhabiting the world. In contrast to the more abstract Heaven, these forces took the form of an astonishing variety of gods, demons, and spirits. These included the gods of particular mountains, rivers, and seas (usually depicted in hybrid animal or animal-human forms), earth gods (tu shen), a sacred serpent, a thorn demon, a water-bug god, hungry ghosts, and the high god, called Shang Di (High Lord, the same term used during the Shang dynasty), Shang Huang (High Sovereign), or Shang Shen (High God). With the possible exception of the high god, these deities were not immortal. Nor were they concerned with human morality; unlike Tian, they responded only to properly-performed sacrifices. Sacrifice by commoners was generally performed for personal and familial welfare, unlike the predominant concerns among the elite for affairs of state.

When the early Zhou political and social synthesis began to deteriorate in the eighth century and competing local states moved toward political, military, and ritual independence, rulers from clans originally enfeoffed by Zhou kings also lost their power, which reverted to competing local families. This breakdown of hereditary authority led to new social mobility, with status increasingly awarded for military valor and administrative ability, regardless of aristocratic background. There is some evidence that even peasants could move about in search of more just rulers. These political and social changes were accompanied by an increase in the number and size of cities, and in the circulation of goods between states. But as warfare increased throughout this period, commoners were repeatedly conscripted into various armies, playing havoc with local agricultural economies (not to mention social morale and family life) as able-bodied men were forcibly taken away from their fields. There were numerous shifting alliances among the powerful states (as the former fiefdoms could now be called), and gradually their number decreased as the most powerful gobbled up the weaker ones. During the final century or so of the Warring States period, some of the dukes began calling themselves kings (wang), usurping the title reserved for the central monarch under the Zhou system.

This time of social mobility and political chaos was a fertile period in the history of Chinese religion and philosophy. There began to appear a new class of intellectual elite, who would eventually produce the texts that formed the foundations of the classical tradition. The intellectuals, like the ruling elite, were interested in the abstract notion of a moral Heaven, although they understood it less as a doctrine of political legitimation and more as a religious basis for a system of ethical thought and practice. The ruling elite, on the other hand -- finding that the need for legitimation of their military takeover of the Shang (now over two hundred years in the past) was not as pressing as it once had been - seem to have lost interest in the idea and concentrated more on the older systems of worship of royal ancestors and spirits of nature. These older rituals became more elaborate and were focused on the ancestors of the rulers of the states rather than on those of the Zhou kings.

Some intellectuals in this era were led to question the power of the gods. In theory, the loss of a state was ultimately due to ritual negligence by the ruler, while the victors were supposed to provide for sacrifices to the ancestors of the vanquished. But in practice, many gods charged with protection were deemed to have failed while their desecrators flourished. The worldviews of the elite and the commoners were not radically distinct: the panoply of spiritual beings was known to all, and to the extent that members of the elite had family roots in the agricultural tradition, they too engaged in the ritual forms of propitiation of and communication with the various gods, ghosts, and spirits. The religious worldview was a continuous whole, in which differences in emphasis corresponded to differences in the immediate concerns and interests of its participants.

By the sixth century a more rationalistic perspective developed in the minds of many intellectuals, accompanied by a turning away from gods and spirits to the problems of human society and governance. The collapse of the Zhou system persuaded the majority of intellectuals that there was a critical need for a new political and ideological foundation for the state. There were, essentially, two aspects to the intellectual problem posed by the Zhou breakdown: theoretical and practical. The theoretical problem stemmed from the doctrine of the Mandate of Heaven: if Heaven indeed has (or is) a moral will, and if Heaven has the power to influence human events by replacing evil rulers with good ones, how can such violence and suffering continue? [See Theodicy.] This question and the question of the nature and origin of evil (usually posed as the question of human nature), became central to the Confucian tradition by the end of the Zhou period. The practical problem, which on the whole received more attention than the theoretical one, was simply: how are social and political order and harmony to be restored? What is the proper role of government in human life, and how should society and government be organized and run? How can rulers discharge their moral responsibilities to their people and to Heaven? How can they maintain their legitimacy in light of the Mandate of Heaven?

Confucius. It was in this context that we find the beginnings of Chinese philosophy. Confucius (c. 551-479 B.C.E.) was born in the small state of Lu, near the present city of Qufu, in present-day Shandong province. His given name was Kong Qiu; as an adult he was commonly known as Kong Zhongni, although many called him by the honorific name Kongzi, or Master Kong. "Confucius" is a Latinized name invented by 17^th-century Jesuit missionaries in China, based on a very rarely-used honorific name, Kongfuzi. Lu was a state in which the old Zhou cultural traditions were strong but that was buffeted both by repeated invasions and by local power struggles. Confucius's goal was the restoration of the ethical standards, just rule, and legitimate government -- the Dao or "Way" -- of the early Zhou period as he understood them. The models for the restoration of the Dao were the founding kings of the Zhou dynasty, who had ruled with reverence toward their ancestors and kindness toward their people, ever fearful of losing Heaven's approval. These models had mythic force for Confucius, who saw himself as their embodiment in his own age.

The sources from which the Way of the ancient kings could be learned were ritual, historical, literary, and oracular texts, some of which later came to be known as the Five Scriptures (wu jing). ("Five Classics" is the usual translation, but they certainly were regarded by Confucius and his followers as sacred texts, so "scriptures" is more accurate.) In addition to the Yijing, the divination text discussed above, they included the Shijing (Scripture of Odes), a collection of folk and aristocratic songs allegedly collected by Confucius; the Shujing (Scripture of Documents), purporting to consist of official documents from the ancient Xia dynasty (still historically undocumented) up through the Shang and early Zhou dynasties; the Chunqiu (Spring and Autumn), the terse history of Confucius's home state of Lu; and the Liji (Record of Ritual), which describes not only the formal rituals of the early Zhou, but also the modes of behavior, customs, dress, and other aspects of the lives of the early kings. A sixth one, the Yuejing (Scripture of Music), is no longer extant but sections of it survive in the Liji.

Although several parts of the Five Scriptures were later attributed to Confucius, it is not likely that he wrote anything that survives. The best source of his teachings is the Lunyu (Analects), a collection of his sayings recorded by his disciples after his death. Since the compilation of this text continued for over a century, much of it is not historically reliable. Nevertheless, throughout Chinese history until recent times it has been regarded as the definitive teachings of Confucius, so in terms of its influence on Chinese culture it can be read as a whole.

Confucius believed that society could be transformed by the moral cultivation of those in power, because virtue (de) has a natural transformative effect on others. This inner moral power or potential was "given birth to" or generated in the individual by Heaven, and it was this that Heaven responded to, not merely the outward show of ritual or the exercise of force. Thus government by virtue - i.e. by setting a moral example - was actually more effective in the long run than government by force or the strict application of law and punishment. De had earlier referred simply to the power of a ruler to attract and influence subjects, so in this and several other respects Confucius's innovation was to moralize a concept that hitherto had been ethically neutral. The moral perfection of the individual and the perfection of society were coordinate goals, for the moral perfection of the self required a morally supportive social environment, in the form of stable and loving families, opportunities for education, and good rulers to serve as models. Society as a whole could best be perfected from the top down, and in terms of the political situation it was most important to establish a government staffed by virtuous men (women did not serve in government). For these reasons Confucius directed his teaching toward local rulers and men whose goal was to serve in government. Literacy was a major component of the moral cultivation that he taught, and so he did not bring his message to the masses, the great majority of whom at that time were illiterate.

He gathered a small group of disciples whom he taught to become junzi ("superior men"), men of ethical sensitivity and historical wisdom who were devoted to moral self-cultivation in preparation to become humane and able government officials. The term junzi had originally referred to hereditary nobility, but Confucius used it to mean a kind of moral nobility. Likewise, he expanded the meaning of li, or "ritual," to mean proper behavior and a kind of reverent seriousness in one's every action. [See Li.] The highest virtue was ren, "humanity" or "humaneness," which Confucius understood to be the perfection of being human. Ren described the inner moral character that was necessary in order for one's outward behavior, or li, to be authentic and meaningful. Confucius regarded ren as a nearly transcendental quality that only the mythic sages of the past had actually attained, although later Confucians claimed it was attainable by anyone.

Thus Confucius initiated a new level of ethical awareness in Chinese culture and a new form of education, education in what he believed were universal principles for mature humanity and civilization. He assumed that the criteria for holding office were intelligence and high moral principles, not hereditary status, and so further undermined the Zhou feudal system that was crumbling around him. His ethical teachings were intended to describe the "Way" (dao) of the superior or morally noble person, a way that originated in the will of Heaven for its people. Although this Way had been put into practice by the glorious founders of the Zhou dynasty, it was not presently being practiced. The absence of the Way was manifested by widespread conflict and a breakdown of ritual and propriety (li), indicating not only a breach in the social order but also in the cosmic order. Ritual or ritual propriety, therefore, was not merely a means of enforcing social order, nor was Confucius's innovation a turn from religion to philosophy; rather it was a philosophical deepening of a fundamentally religious worldview. Despite the fact that he urged his followers to pay more attention to human affairs than to the worship of the variety of traditional spiritual beings, he denied neither their existence nor the importance of worshipping ancestors. He redirected the religious sense of awe and reverence that had traditionally been focused on the realm of gods and spirits to the human, social and political sphere. [See the biography of Confucius.]

The followers of Confucius came to be known as ru or "scholars," signifying their relationship with the literary tradition. They were in a sense custodians of and experts in the literate cultural tradition (wen), especially in the areas of court ritual, official protocol, and history. By the fourth and third centuries B.C.E. other schools of thought were developing. They included a school of natural philosophy based on the concept of the yin (dark, quiescent) and yang (light, active) phases of qi (psycho-physical substance); an early form of Daoism (Taoism); a school of Legalism that taught the strict application of law and punishment as the solution to the era's disorder; a school based on the investigation of names and their meanings; and several others. In the culture at large religious beliefs and activities continued unabated; divination and rituals accompanied every significant activity, and a quest for personal immortality was gaining momentum. One of the new schools of thought that reflected this common concern for religion was that of Mozi.

Mozi. Mozi (Master Mo, fifth century B.C.E.), a thinker from an artisan background, was a thorough-going utilitarian who taught that the fundamental criterion of value was practical benefit to all. He was from Confucius's home state of Lu and was educated in the emerging Confucian tradition, but turned against what he perceived to be its elitism and wasteful concern with elaborate rituals. In his ethical teaching Mozi reinterpreted along utilitarian lines such Confucian principles as righteousness and filial reverence, focusing on the theme of universal love without familial and social distinctions. He also attracted a group of disciples whom he sent out to serve in various states in an attempt to implement his teachings.

For the history of Chinese religions the most significant aspect of Mozi's thought is his concern to provide theological sanctions for his views. For Mozi, Tian, or Heaven, is an active creator god whose will or mandate extends to everyone; what Heaven wills is love, prosperity, and peace for all. Heaven is the ultimate ruler of the whole world; Tian sees all, rewards the good, and punishes the evil. In this task it is aided by a multitude of lesser spirits who are also intelligent and vital and who serve as messengers between Tian and human beings. Mozi advocated that since this is the nature of divine reality, religious reverence should be encouraged by the state as a sanction for moral order.

To protect himself from intellectual skeptics Mozi at one point allowed that even if deities and spirits do not exist communal worship still has social value. Although his whole attempt to argue for belief in Heaven on utilitarian grounds could be understood as a last stand for traditional religion within a changing philosophical world, there is no reason to doubt that Mozi himself believed in the gods. [See Moism and the biography of Mozi.]

The fourth century B.C.E. was a period of incessant civil war on the one hand and great philosophical diversity on the other. A variety of thinkers arose, each propounding a cure for the ills of the age, most seeking to establish their views by training disciples and attaining office. Some advocated moral reform through education, others authoritarian government, laissez faire administration, rationalized bureaucracy, agricultural communes, rule in accord with the powers of nature, or individual self-fulfillment. Religious concerns were not paramount for these thinkers; indeed, for some they do not appear at all. The two traditions of this period that do warrant discussion here are the Confucian, represented by Mengzi (Mencius, c. 371-289 B.C.E.), and that of the mystically inclined individualists, traditionally known as the Daoists.

Mengzi. Master Meng, whose given name was Meng Ke, was a teacher and would-be administrator from the small state of Zou who developed Confucius's teachings and placed them on a much firmer philosophical and literary base. Mengzi was concerned to prepare his disciples for enlightened and compassionate public service, beginning with provision for the physical needs of the people. He believed that only when their material livelihood is secure can the people be guided to higher moral awareness. This hope for moral transformation is grounded in Mengzi's conviction that human nature contains the potential for goodness. What is needed are rulers who nourish this potential as "fathers and mothers of the people." These teachings Mengzi expounded courageously before despotic kings whose inclinations were quite otherwise.

Tian or Heaven, for Mencius, is an expression of the underlying moral structure of the world, so that in the long run "those who accord with Heaven are preserved, and those who oppose Heaven are destroyed." Heaven's will is known through the assent or disapproval of the people -- a proto-democratic aspect of Mencius's thought. The human mind possesses an innate potential for moral awareness, a potential bestowed by Heaven at birth, so that "to understand human nature is to understand Heaven" and "to preserve one's mind and nourish one's nature is to serve Heaven." This potential is more than mere possibility; it is comprised of innate and concrete emotional dispositions which, when nourished or developed, become the core virtues of humanity (ren), rightness or appropriateness (yi), propriety (li), and moral wisdom (zhi). This natural course of human development, rather than a static essence, is what constitutes human nature for Mencius. In cultivating our moral capacities we become fully human and actualize the moral potential of the cosmos. But this process requires a supportive, nourishing environment: a loving and supportive family, opportunities for education, and a humane government.

As had Confucius, Mengzi assumed that ancestor veneration was a basic requirement of civilized life, but neither thinker emphasized such veneration as much as did later texts like the Xiaojing, the Scripture of Filiality (third century B.C.E.). And while Confucius had relied largely upon the power of the cultural tradition - in particular the words and examples of the ancient sages preserved in the Five Scriptures - to serve as agents of individual and social transformation, Mencius's theory could be characterized as a developmental moral psychology. Mengzi represents both a further humanization and a further spiritualization of the Confucian tradition, and his emphasis on the powers of human nature did much to shape the religious sensibilities of Chinese philosophy. In a third century B.C.E. text closely associated with the Mencian school, the Zhongyong ( "The Mean in Practice" or "Centrality and Commonality"), these tendencies were developed to a point not seen again until the eleventh and twelfth century revival of Confucianism:

Only that one in the world who is most perfectly authentic is able to give full development to his nature. Being able to give full development to his nature, he is able to give full development to the nature of other human beings and, being able to give full development to the nature of other human beings, he is able to give full development to the natures of other living things. Being able to give full development to the natures of other living things, he can assist in the transforming and nourishing powers of Heaven and Earth; being able to assist in the transforming and nourishing powers of Heaven and Earth, he can form a triad with Heaven and Earth.

[See the biography of Mengzi.]

Xunzi. The third most important Confucian philosopher before the Han dynasty (202 B.C.E.-220 C.E.) was Xunzi (Xun Qing, d. 215 B.C.E.), a scholar from the state of Zhao who held offices for a time in the larger states of Qi and Chu. Xunzi's thought was influenced by several of the traditions that had developed before his time, including those of the Logicians, Daoists, and Legalists. Xunzi agreed with the Legalist emphasis on the need for strong centralized rule and a strict penal code. He also shared their low estimate of human nature, which in his view tended toward selfishness and competition. Nonetheless, Xunzi believed that human attitudes and behavior are perfectible by dint of much discipline and effort, so his differences with Mencius on this point are those of degree. Both thinkers claimed that the ordinary person can become a "sage" (shengren), one who fully exemplifies the virtue of humanity (ren). But for Mencius this was a developmental process, while for Xunzi it was a transformation (hua) requiring the external leverage, so to speak, of past sages.

Xunzi's chief contribution was his reinterpretation of Tian as the order of nature, an order that has no consciousness and is not directly related to human concerns. This interpretation is parallel to the views of the Laozi (Daodejing) and Zhuangzi texts concerning the cosmic "Way" (Dao). Xunzi was concerned to separate the roles of heaven, earth, and man, with human attention directed toward ethics, administration, and culture. In this context rituals such as funeral rites are valuable channels for emotions, but have no objective referent; their role is social and psychological, not theological. Ignorant "petty people" who literally believe in the efficacy of rain dances and divination are to be pitied; for the gentleman such activities are "cultural adornment."

Xunzi thus gave impetus to the skeptical tradition in Chinese thought that began before Confucius and was reinforced by later thinkers such as Wang Chong (c. 27-96 C.E.). Xunzi's teachings at this point provided a theoretical basis for a rough bifurcation between elite and popular attitudes toward religion and for sporadic attempts to suppress "excessive cults." Xunzi's epistemology also set up the intellectual framework for a critique of heresy, conceived as inventing words and titles beyond those employed by general consensus and sanctioned by the state. These themes had important implications for the remainder of Chinese history, including official attitudes toward religion today. [See the biography of Xunzi.]

Early Daoist thought. The earliest extant writings focused on the mysterious cosmic "Way" (dao) that underlies all things are the first seven chapters of the extant Zhuangzi, a text attributed to a philosopher named Zhuang Zhou of the fourth century B.C.E., and one section of the Guanzi, another fourth-century text. Zhuang Zhou, or Zhuangzi (Master Zhuang), was convinced that the world in its natural state is peaceful and harmonious, a state exemplified by the growth of plants and the activities of animals. Disorder is due to human aggression and manipulation, a tendency that finds as much expression in Confucian and Moist moralizing as in cruel punishments and warfare. Such moralizing in turn is rooted in a false confidence in words, words that debators use to express their own limited points of view and thus to dichotomize our understanding of the world. Indeed, all perspectives are limited and relative, conditioned by the interests and anxieties of species, social positions, and individuals. The answer to this problem is to understand and affirm the relativity of views, and thus harmonize them all. This the sage does by perceiving the constant rhythms of change within all life and identifying with them. In his view all dichotomies are unified; hence there is no need for struggle and competition. The sage intuits the Dao within and behind all things, and takes its all-embracing perspective as his own. This perspective allows him to achieve a state of emotional equanimity, which even a serious illness or the death of a loved-one cannot disturb. Indeed, such events illustrate the ultimate truth of the Way - change and transformation - and can therefore provide opportunities to rejoice in one's participation in what is fundamentally real. [See the biography of Zhuangzi.]

The Guanzi is a long, composite text attributed to a famous statesman of the seventh century B.C.E., but it was probably written or compiled from the fourth to the second centuries B.C.E., and its actual authors are unknown. Its earliest sections focuses on the cosmological and physiological bases of self-transformation according to the Way, using such concepts as qi (the psycho-physical substance of all things), jing (life-giving essence), and shen (spirit), all of which remained central to the Daoist religion in its later development.

The best-known book devoted to discussing the Dao behind all things is the early third-century B.C.E. Daodejing (The Way and Its Power), also known as the Laozi, after its reputed author, a mythical sage known simply as the "Old Master," said to have been an older contemporary of Confucius. The Laozi discusses the Way in more direct, metaphysical terms than does the Zhuangzi, all the while protesting that such discussion is ultimately futile. Here we are told that the Dao is the source of all things, "the mother of the universe," the ineffable cosmic womb out of which all emerges. The Dao also "works in the world," guiding all things in harmonious development and interaction. As both source and order of the world the Dao serves as a model for enlightened rulers who gain power by staying in the background and letting their people live spontaneously in response to their own needs. The Dao is the vital force of life perceived at its utmost depth; it works mysteriously and imperceptibly and yet there is nothing it does not accomplish. Its symbols are water rather than rock, valleys rather than hills, the female rather than the male. Although its perspective is profound, its author intended this book to be a handbook of wise and successful living, living characterized by a natural, spontaneous action that does not prematurely wear itself out. [See Dao and De.]

These texts were the sources of a persistent tradition of naturalistic mysticism in the history of Chinese religions. They were the inspiration for much poetry, romantic philosophy, and meditation, all intended as a corrective for the bustle and competition of life, a means to peace of mind, and a clarification and broadening of perspective. They describe the enlightened person as living peacefully and long because he does not waste his vital powers on needless contention and aggression. In the Laozi, for example, we are told that "He who knows when to stop is free from danger; therefore he can long endure" (chap. 44), and that one who is "a good preserver of his life" cannot be harmed, "because in him there is no room for death" (chap. 50). Although in some passages of the Zhuangzi an enlightened perspective leads to acceptance of death, a few others provide poetic visions of immortals, those who have transcended death by merging with the Dao. One of the terms Zhuangzi uses for these individuals is zhenren, "perfected people," a term that later became important in the fully-developed Daoist religion that took shape after the second century C.E.. These indications of immortality in the earliest Daoist texts provided the chief point of contact between the classical tradition and those who sought immortality by more direct means, including later practitioners of Daoist religion.

The quest for immortality. An explicit concern for long life (shou) had already appeared on early Zhou bronzes and in poems in the Scripture of Odes. Beginning in the eighth century B.C.E. we find terms expressing a hope for immortality, such as "no death," "transcending the world," and "becoming an immortal." By the fourth century B.C.E. there is evidence of an active quest for immortality through a variety of means, including exercises imitating the movements of long-lived animals, diets enforcing abstinence from grains, the use of food vessels inscribed with characters indicating longevity, the ingestion of herbs and chemicals, and petitions for the aid of immortals residing in mountains or distant paradises. It was in this context that Chinese alchemy began. The alchemical quest became the most dramatic form of the quest to transcend death, growing in popularity during the Qin (221-207 B.C.E.) and Western Han (202 B.C.E.-9 C.E.) dynasties.

The goal of all these practices was to return the body to its original state of purity and power with its yin and yang forces vital and in proper balance. [See Yin-yang Wuxing.] The fact that some of the compounds used were poisonous did not deter the experimenters; those who died were believed by devotees to have transferred themselves to another plane of existence, that of the immortals (xian). [See Xian.] All this effort and expense were considered necessary because in ancient China the person was understood to be a psycho-physical whole, composed throughout of one vital substance, qi, in different modes and densities. [See Qi.] Corresponding to the yin and yang phases of qi there were thought to be two "souls," the po and hun, respectively. The po, associated with the gross physical body, would ideally remain with the body after death, or would descend to a murky underworld, the Yellow Springs. The hun, associated with the more intelligent and spiritual aspect of the person, would rise up to heaven and would retain its integrity only as long as it was ritually acknowledged and "nourished" through ancestor worship.

These forms of continuation after death were perceived by some to be tenuous and limited, so they attempted to make the entire person/body immortal by transforming its substance. There was no doctrine of an eternal, immaterial soul to fall back on as in India or the Hellenistic world, so the only alternative was physical immortality. In China this tradition continued to develop through the Eastern (Latter) Han dynasty (25-220 C.E.) and produced texts of its own full of recipes, techniques, and moral exhortations. As such, it became one of the major sources of the Daoist religion that emerged in the second century C.E.. [See Alchemy, article on Chinese Alchemy, and Soul, article on Chinese Concepts.]

Spirit mediums. The other important expression of Chinese religious consciousness before the Han dynasty was shamanism, which most commonly took the form of deities and spirits possessing receptive human beings. Spirit mediums both female and male are mentioned in discussions of early Zhou religion as participants in court rituals, responsible for invoking the descent of the gods, praying and dancing for rain, and for ceremonial sweeping to exorcise harmful forces. They were a subordinate level of officially accepted ritual performers, mostly women, who spoke on behalf of the gods to arrange for sacrifices. In conditions of extreme drought they could be exposed to the sun as an inducement to rain. Female mediums were called wu, a word etymologically related to that for dancing; male mediums were called xi. In the state of Chu, south of the center of Zhou culture, there were shamans believed able to practice "magic flight," that is, to send their souls on journeys to distant realms of deities and immortals. [See Flight.]

Han historical sources indicate that by the third century B.C.E. there were shamans all over China, many of whom were invited by emperors to set up shrines in the capital. This was done in part to consolidate imperial control, but also to make available fresh sources of sacred power to support the state and heal illness. Sporadic attempts were also made by officials to suppress shamanism. These began as early as 99 B.C.E. and continued in efforts to reform court rituals in 31-30 B.C.E., and to change local practices involving human sacrifice in 25 C.E.. However, it is clear that shamanism was well established among the people and continued to have formal influence at court until the fifth century C.E.. Shamans were occasionally employed by rulers to call up the spirits of royal ancestors and consorts and incidents of court support continued into the eleventh century. Owing in part to the revival of Confucianism in that period, in 1023 a sweeping edict was issued that all shamans be returned to agricultural life and their shrines be destroyed. Thus, the gradual Confucianization of the Chinese elite led to the suppression of shamanism at that level, but it continued to flourish among the people, where its activities can still be observed in China, Taiwan, and other Chinese communities. [See Shamanism, overview article.]

The Beginnings of Empire

In the fifth century B.C.E. the disintegration of the Zhou feudal and social order quickened under the pressure of incessant civil wars. The larger states formed alliances and maneuvered for power, seeking hegemony over the others, aiming to reunify the area of Zhou culture by force alone. In 256 B.C.E. the state of Qin, under the influence of a ruthlessly applied ideology of laws and punishments suggested in the fourth century B.C.E. by Shang Yang, one of the founders of the Legalist school, eliminated the last Zhou king and then finished off its remaining rivals. Finally, in 221 the state of Qin became the empire of Qin (221-207 B.C.E.), and its ruler took a new title, "First Emperor of Qin" (Qin shi huangdi). With this step China as a semicontinental state was born. There were many periods of division and strife later, but the new level of unification achieved by the Qin was never forgotten, and became the goal of all later dynasties.

The Qin emperors attempted to rule all of China by the standards long developed in their own area; laws, measurements, written characters, wheel tracks, thought, and so forth were all to be unified. Local traditions and loyalties were still strong, however, and Qin rule remained precarious. After the emperor died in 209 he was replaced by a son who proved unequal to the task. Rebellions that broke out in that year severely undermined Qin authority and by 206 one of the rebel leaders, a village head named Liu Bang, had assumed de facto control of state administration. In 202 Liu Bang was proclaimed emperor of a new dynasty, the Han (202 B.C.E.-220 C.E.), built upon Qin foundations but destined to last, with one interregnum, for over four hundred years.

The Qin. The Qin was noteworthy both for its suppression of philosophy and its encouragement of religion. The Legalist tradition dominant in the state of Qin had long been hostile to the Confucians and Moists, with their emphasis on ethical sanctions for rule. For the Legalists the only proper standard of conduct was the law, applied by officials concerned with nothing else, whose personal views were irrelevant as long as they performed their task. The only sanctions the state needed were power and effective organization. Not long after Qin became an empire it attempted to silence all criticism based on the assumption of inner standards of righteousness that were deemed to transcend political power and circumstance. In 213 B.C.E. the court made it a capital offence to discuss Confucian books and principles and ordered that all books in private collections be burned, save those dealing with medicine, divination, and agriculture, as well as texts of the Legalist school. In this campaign, several scores of scholars were executed, and a number of philosophical schools were eliminated as coherent traditions, including the Moists and the Dialecticians. In the early Han dynasty both Daoist philosophy and Confucianism revived, and Legalism continued to be in evidence in practice if not in theory, but the golden age of Chinese philosophy was over. A unified empire demanded unified thought, a dominant orthodoxy enforced by the state. From this perspective variety was a threat, and furthermore, there were no independent states left to serve as sanctuaries for different schools. To be sure, China continued to produce excellent scholars and philosophers, and Buddhism contributed an important body of new material, but most of the issues debated in later Chinese philosophy had already been articulated before the Han. The task of philosophy was now understood to be the refinement and application of old teachings, not the development of new ones. [See Legalism and the biography of Han Feizi.]

Qin policy toward religion, by contrast, encouraged a variety of practices to support the state. To pay homage to the sacred powers of the realm and to consolidate his control, the First Emperor included worship at local shrines in his extensive tours. Representatives of regional cults, many of them spirit mediums, were brought to the court, there to perform rituals at altars set up for their respective deities. The Qin expanded the late Zhou tendency to exalt deities of natural forces; over one hundred temples to such nature deities were established in the capital alone, devoted to the sun, moon, planets, several constellations, and stars associated with wind, rain, and long life. The nation was divided into sacred regions presided over by twelve mountains and four major rivers, with many lesser holy places to be worshiped both by the people and the emperor. Elaborate sacrifices of horses, rams, bulls, and a variety of foodstuffs were regularly offered at the major sites, presided over by officials with titles such as Grand Sacrificer and Grand Diviner. Important deities were correlated with the Five Phases (wuxing), the modes of interaction of natural forces, the better to personify and control these powers.

A distinctive feature of Qin religion was sacrifices to four "Supreme Emperors" responsible for natural powers in each of the four quarters. Only the Emperor could worship these deities, a limitation true as well for two new rites he developed in 219, the feng and shan sacrifices. These were performed on sacred Mount Tai, in modern Shandong province, to symbolize that the ruler had been invested with power by Heaven itself. Another driving force behind Qin encouragement of religious activities was the first Emperor's personal quest for immortality. We are told that in this quest he sent groups of young people across the China Sea to look for such islands of the immortals as Penglai.

The Han. The defeat of Qin forces in the civil wars leading up to the founding of the Han dynasty deposed Legalist political thought along with the second and last Qin emperor. It took several decades for the new Han dynasty to consolidate its power. Since the Legalists had developed the most detailed policies for administering an empire, many of these policies were followed in practice in modified form.

Some early Han scholars and emperors attempted to ameliorate royal power with a revival of Confucian concern for the people and Daoist principles of noninterference (wuwei). For example, a palace counselor named Jia Yi (200-168 B.C.E.) echoed Mencius in his emphasis that the people are the basis of the state, the purpose of which should be to make them prosperous and happy, so as to gain their approval. A similar point of view is presented in more Daoist form in the Huainanzi, a book presented to the throne in 139 B.C.E. by a prince of the Liu clan who had convened a variety of scholars in his court. This book discusses the world as a fundamentally harmonious system of resonating roles and influences. The ruler's job is to guide it, as an experienced charioteer guides his team. [See the biography of Liu An.]

Both Jia Yi and the Huainanzi assume that the rhythms that order society and government emanate from the cosmic Dao. The ruler's task is to discover and reinforce these rhythms for the benefit of all. This understanding of a Daoist "art of rulership" is rooted in the teachings of the early Daoist texts discussed above (Zhuangzi, Guanzi, and Laozi), which in the early Han were called the Huang-Lao school, the tradition of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. Four other Huang-Lao texts were rediscovered in 1973 at Mawangdui, in a tomb sealed in 168 B.C.E.. This early form of Daoism, which was adopted by the early Han emperors, is concerned with the Dao as the creative source of both nature and man, their patterns of order, and the ontological basis of law and administration. Here we see an attempt to apply Daoist philosophical principles to the ordering of society by blending them with Legalist ideas. [See Huanglao Jun.]

Some Confucian books had escaped the flames of 213 B.C.E., and those that did not were reconstructed or written anew, with little but the old titles intact. By this time scholars such as Xunzi had already incorporated the best thought of their day into fundamentally Confucian expositions that advocated a strong centralized state and an ethical teaching enforced by law. This expanded interpretation of Confucius's teachings served his followers well in the early Han. They occupied the middle ground between Legalism and Daoist laissez-faire. There was room in their perspective for political power, criminal law, advocacy of benevolent rule, moral suasion, religious rituals, and personal ethical development, all supported by a three-century tradition of training disciples to study sacred texts and emulate the models they provided. In addition, the philosopher Dong Zhongshu (c. 179-104 B.C.E.) incorporated into Confucianism the theories of Zou Yan and the "Naturalists," who in the fourth century B.C.E. had taught that the world is an interrelated organic whole that operates according to the cosmic principles of yin-yang and wuxing (Five Phases). [See the biography of Zou Yan.] The Huainanzi had already given this material a Daoist interpretation, stressing the natural resonance between all aspects of the universe. In the hands of Dong Zhongshu this understanding became an elaborate statement of the relationship of society and nature, with an emphasis on natural justification for hierarchical social roles, focused on that of the ruler. [See the biography of Dong Zhongshu.]

Dong Zhongshu provided a more detailed cosmological basis for Confucian ethical and social teachings and made it clear that only a unified state could serve as a channel for cosmic forces and sanctions. Dong was recognized as the leading scholar of the realm, and became spokesman for the official class. At his urging, the sixth Han emperor, Wudi (r. 140-87 B.C.E.), shifted his allegiance from Huang-Lao Daoism to Confucianism. In 136 B.C.E. the Confucian classics were made the prescribed texts studied at the imperial academy. Texts of other schools including the Daoist theories of administration noted above, were excluded. This meant in effect that Dong Zhongshu's version of Confucianism became the official state teaching, a status it retained throughout the Han dynasty. So it was that the humble scholar of Lu, dead for over three hundred years, was exalted as patron saint of the imperial system, a position he retained until 1911. State-supported temples were established in Confucius's name in cities all over the land, and his home at Qufu became a national shrine. In these temples, spirit tablets of the master and his disciples (replaced by images from 720 to 1530) were venerated in elaborate and formal rituals. As the generations passed, the tablets of the most influential scholars of the age came to be placed in these temples as well, by imperial decree, and so the cult of Confucius became the ritual focus of the scholar-official class. [See Confucian Thought, article on The State Cult.]

Dong Zhongshu's incorporation of yin-yang thought into Confucian philosophy had the unfortunate effect of legitimating and accentuating what was already a patriarchal social system. The root meanings of yin (dark) and yang (light) were not gendered, but neither did they necessarily imply a complementarity of equals. The predominant interpretation of the yin-yang polarity throughout Chinese history (with a few texts like the Laozi as prominent exceptions) understood the relationship as a hierarchical complementarity, with yin as quiescent and sinking and yang as active and rising. The general preference for yang over yin, combined with the patriarchal association of women with yin and men with yang, provided philosophical justification for the subservience of women to men. Educated women as well as men accepted this as a fact of nature. Ban Zhao (45-114 C.E.), the most famous female intellectual in Chinese history, wrote an influential book called "Lessons for Women" (Nujie), which emphasized the propriety of women's humility and subservience, although her support of education for girls could, in its context, be considered a "feminist" position. In general, Confucians believed that women could become Sages, but only by perfecting the virtues of the "woman's Way" as wives and mothers.

Han state rituals were based upon those of Qin, but were greatly expanded and more elaborate. The first emperor, Gaozu, instituted the worship of a star god believed to be associated with Houji, the legendary founder of the Zhou royal line. Temples for this deity were built in administrative centers around the realm, where officials were also instructed to worship gods of local mountains and rivers. Gaozu brought shamans to the palace and set up shrines for sacrifices to their regional deities. He also promoted the worship of his own ancestors; at his death temples in his honor were built in commanderies throughout the empire.

These efforts to institute an imperial religious system supported by officials at all levels were energetically continued by Emperor Wu, during whose fifty-four-year reign the foundations of imperial state religion were established for Chinese history into the twentieth century. The emperor's religious activities were in turn supported by the philosophy of Dong Zhongshu, with its emphasis on the central cosmic role of the ruler. Emperor Wu revived the jiao or suburban sacrifice at the winter solstice to express imperial support for the revival of life forces. [See Jiao.] He also began to worship Taiyi, the "Supreme One," a star deity most noble in the heavens, an exalted version of a Zhou god. Taiyi was coequal with Heaven and earth, a symbol of both cosmic power and the emperor's status. In the period 112-110 B.C.E. Emperor Wu renewed the feng and shan sacrifices at Mount Tai, the sacred mountain of the east, a key place of direct communication with Heaven for the sake of the whole realm. In 109 B.C.E. he ordered that a ming tang ("hall of light") be built at the foot of Mount Tai as a temple where all the major deities of China could assemble and be worshiped. Emperor Wu also toured the realm, sacrificing at important shrines along the way, all to express his religious convictions and assert his authority.

Detailed instructions for these Han rituals were provided by handbooks of ritual and etiquette such as the Liji (Record of Ritual), the present version of which was compiled in the second century B.C.E. but includes earlier material as well. Here we find descriptions of royal rituals to be performed at the solstices and the equinoxes, as well as instructions for such matters as the initiation ("capping") of young men and the veneration of ancestors. The emphasis throughout is on the intimate correlations of nature and society, so that social custom is given cosmic justification. The Liji complements Dong Zhongshu's philosophy by extending similar understandings to the social life of the literate elite. In this context periodic rituals served as concentrated reminders of the cosmic basis of the whole cultural and political order. Thus did the imperial ruling class express its piety and solidify its position.

It should be noted, however, that the old Zhou concept of the "mandate of Heaven" continued to influence Han political thought in a form elaborated and attenuated at the same time. Particularly in the writings of Dong Zhongshu, evidence for divine approval or disapproval of the ruler was discerned in natural phenomena, such as comets or earthquakes, interpreted as portents and omens. In accord with this belief, officials were appointed to record and interpret portents and to suggest appropriate responses, such as changes in ritual procedure and the proclamation of amnesties. The developing tradition of political portents recognized the importance of divine sanctions but provided a range of calibrated responses that enabled rulers to adjust their policies rather than face the prospect of rejection by Heaven. The "mandate of Heaven" in its earlier and starker form was evoked chiefly as justification for rebellion in periods of dynastic decay. Nonetheless, portent theory in the hands of a conscientious official could be used in attempts to check or ameliorate royal despotism, and hence was an aspect of the state religious system that could challenge political power as well as support it.

The Han emperor Wu devoted much effort to attaining immortality, as had his Qin predecessor. As before, shamans and specialists in immortality potions were brought to court, and expeditions were sent off to look for the dwelling places of those who had defeated death. The search for immortality became quite popular among those who had the money and literacy to engage in it. In part this was due to the transformation of the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi) into the patron deity of immortality, the earliest popular saving deity of this type in China. This transformation, fostered by magicians or "technique specialists" (fangshi) at Emperor Wu's court, included stories that the Yellow Emperor had ascended to Heaven with his whole retinue, including a harem of over seventy. [See Fangshi and Huangdi.]

A more common expression of hope for some sort of continuity after death may be seen in tombs of Han aristocrats and officials, many of which were built as sturdy brick replicas of houses or offices, complete with wooden and ceramic utensils, attendants, and animals, as well as food, drugs, clothing, jade, bamboo books, and other precious objects. To a large extent this was a modification of Shang and Zhou traditions. However, in a few Han tombs there were tightly sealed coffins filled with an embalming fluid in which even the skin and flesh of the bodies have been preserved. An elaborate silk banner has been found on top of one of these coffins, from the southern state of Chu, painted with a design evidently intended to guide the occupant to a paradise of the immortals, perhaps that of the Queen Mother of the West, Xi Wang Mu.

Another destination for the dead was an underworld that was a Han elaboration of the old myth of the Yellow Springs, a shadowy place beneath the earth referred to as early as the eighth century B.C.E.. From the Han period, there are tomb documents by which living officials transferred the dead in their jurisdiction to those of their counterparts in the underworld. There are also references to a realm of the dead inside Mount Tai. The god of this mountain keeps registers of the lifespans of all, and death may be referred to as "to return to the Eastern Peak." By the third and fourth centuries C.E. it was believed that there was a subterranean kingdom within Mount Tai, where judges decided the fate of the dead. These alternative beliefs represent the state of Chinese understandings of afterlife before Buddhist impact. [See Afterlife, article on Chinese Concepts.]

What came to be called the Former Han dynasty ended in 8 C.E. when the throne was occupied by a prime minister named Wang Mang (r. 9-23 C.E.), who established a Xin ("new") dynasty that was to last for fourteen years. Wang's chief contribution to the history of Chinese religions was his active promotion of prognostication as a way of understanding the intimate relationship between Heaven and the court. In 25 C.E. Liu Xiu (r. 25-57), a member of the Han royal line, led a successful attack on Wang Mang and reestablished the (Latter) Han dynasty. Like Wang Mang, he actively supported prognostication at court, despite the criticism of rationalist scholars such as Huan Tan (43 B.C.E.-28 C.E.), who argued that strange phenomena were a matter of coincidence and natural causes rather than messages from Heaven.

A related development was controversy between two movements within Confucian scholarly circles, the so-called New Text school of the Former Han, and a later rationalistic reaction against it, the Old Text school. The New Text school developed out of Dong Zhongshu's concern with portents. Its followers wrote new commentaries on the classics that praised Confucius as a superhuman being who predicted the future hundreds of years beyond his time. By the end of the first century B.C.E. this interpretation of the sage in mythological terms was vigorously resisted by an Old Text school that advocated a more restrained and historical approach. These two traditions coexisted throughout the remainder of the Han dynasty, with the New Text scholars receiving the most imperial support through the first century C.E.. After Huan Tan the best known rationalist was Wang Chong, whose Lunheng (Balanced Essays) fiercely criticizes religious opinions of his day, including prognostication and belief in spirits of the dead. Although Wang Chong was not well known by his contemporaries, his thought was rediscovered in the third century and established as a key contribution to the skeptical tradition in Chinese philosophy. [See the biography of Wang Chong.] An important religious legacy of the New Text school was the exalted interpretation of Confucius as a semidivine being, which was echoed in later popular religion. Its concern with portents and numerology also influenced Daoism.

We have noted the appearance of the Yellow Emperor as a divine patron of immortality, and as a representative of a new type of personified saving deity with power over a whole area of activity. In the latter half of the Han dynasty the number and popularity of such deities increased, beginning with the cult of the Queen Mother of the West (Xi Wang Mu). She was associated with the Kunlun mountains in the northwest where she presided over a palace and received a royal visitor, King Mu of the Zhou dynasty, whom she predicted would be able to avoid death. In 3 B.C.E. Hsi Wang Mu's promise of immortality to all became the central belief of an ecstatic popular cult in her name that swept across North China. Although this movement abated in a few months, the Queen Mother herself is commonly portrayed in Latter Han iconography. Kunlun is described as the center pillar of the world, from where she controls cosmic powers and the gift of immortality. This goddess has continued to have an important role in Chinese religion until the present day. [See Xi Wang Mu.]

Mountain-dwelling immortals constituted another source of personal deities in this period. These beings were believed to descend to aid the ruler in times of crisis, sometimes with instructions from the Celestial Emperor (Tiandi), sometimes themselves identified with the "perfect ruler" who would restore peace to the world. By the second century C.E. the most important of these figures was Laozi, the legendary author of the Daodejing, who appears as a deity called Huang Laojun (Yellow Lord Lao) or Taishang Laojun (Most High Lord Lao). [See Huang Laojun.] By this time Laozi had been portrayed for centuries in popular legend as a mysterious wise man who disappeared without a trace. We have seen that the book in his name contains passages that could be interpreted as support for the immortality cult, and by the first century he was referred to as an immortal himself. In an inscription of 165 C.E. Laozi is described as a creator deity, equal in status to the sun, moon, and stars. A contemporary text assures his devotees that he has manifested himself many times in order to save mankind, that he will select those who believe in him to escape the troubles of the age, and that he will "shake the Han reign." [See the biography of Laozi.] It is this messianic theme that provided the religious impetus for two large popular religious movements in the late second century C.E. that were important sources of later Daoist religion and the popular sectarian tradition. These movements were the Tianshi Dao (Way of the Celestial Masters) in the west and the Taiping Dao (Way of Great Peace) in the north.

The Way of the Celestial Masters began with a new revelation from the Most High Lord Lao to a man named Zhang Daoling in 142 C.E.. In this revelation Zhang was designated as the first "Celestial Master" and was empowered to perform rituals and write talismans that distributed this new manifestation of the Dao for the salvation of humankind. Salvation was available to those who repented of their sins, believed in the Dao, and pledged allegiance to their Daoist master. The master in turn established an alliance between the gods and the devotee, who then wore at the waist a list or "register" of the names of the gods to be called on for protection. The register also served as a passport to heaven at death. Daoist ritual consists essentially of the periodic renewal of these alliances by meditative visualization, ritual confession and petition, and sacrificial offering of incense and sacred documents. Daoist texts are concerned throughout for moral discipline and orderly ritual and organization.

Under Zhang Daoling's grandson, Zhang Lu, the Way of the Celestial Masters established a theocratic state in the area of modern Sichuan Province with an organization modeled in part on Han local administration. The administrative units or "parishes" were headed by "libationers," some of whom were women, whose duties included both religious and administrative functions. Their rituals included reciting the Laozi, penance to heal illness, and the construction of huts in which free food was offered to passers-by. Converts were required to contribute five pecks of rice, from which the movement gained the popular name of "The Way of Five Pecks of Rice" (Wudoumi Dao). In 215 Zhang Lu pledged allegiance to a Han warlord (Cao Cao), whose son founded the new state of Wei in 220. The members of the sect were required to disperse their self-governing community in Sichuan, but they were allowed to continue their activities and taught that Wei had simply inherited divine authority from the Celestial Master Zhang and his line. By the fourth century the Celestial Masters developed more elaborate collective rituals of repentance, retrospective salvation of ancestors, and the strengthening of vital forces through sexual intercourse. Eventually all branches of Daoism traced their origins to the Way of the Celestial Masters. [See the biographies of Zhang Daoling and Zhang Lu.]

We know less about the practices of the Way of Great Peace because it was destroyed as a coherent tradition in the aftermath of a massive uprising in 184 C.E.. Its leader, also named Zhang (Zhang Jue, d. 184 C.E.), proclaimed that the divine mandate for the Han rule, here symbolized by the wood (green) phase (of the Five Phases), had expired, to be replaced by the earth phase, whose color is yellow. Zhang Jue's forces thus wore yellow cloths on their heads as symbols of their destiny, and hence the movement came to be called the Yellow Scarves (often misleadingly translated as "Yellow Turbans"). The Han court commissioned local governors to put down the uprising, which was soon suppressed with much bloodshed, although remnants of the Yellow Scarves continued to exist until the end of the century. [See the biography of Zhang Jue.]

The Yellow Scarves are better understood as a parallel to the Celestial Master sect rather than as connected to it, although the two movements shared some beliefs and practices, particularly healing through confession of sins. The Way of Great Peace employed a scripture known as the Taipingjing (Scripture of Great Peace), which emphasizes the cyclical renewal of life in the jiazi year, the beginning of the sixty-year calendrical cycle. Both sects were utopian, but the Yellow Scarves represent a more eschatalogical orientation. In retrospect, both of these groups appear as attempts to reconstruct at a local level the Han cosmic and political synthesis that was collapsing around them, with priests taking the place of imperial officials.

The most important legacy of the late Han popular religious movements was their belief in personified divine beings concerned to aid humankind, a belief supported by new texts, rituals, and forms of leadership and organization. This belief was given impetus by the expectation that a bearer of collective salvation was about to appear in order to initiate a new time of peace, prosperity, and long life. From the third century on this hope was focused on a figure called Li Hong, in whose name several local movements appeared, some involving armed uprisings. This eschatological orientation was an important dimension of early Daoism, which at first understood itself as a new revelation, intended to supplant popular cults with their bloody sacrifices and spirit mediums.

In addition to such organized movements as the Yellow Scarves, Han popular religion included the worship of local sacred objects such as trees, rocks, and streams, the worship of dragons (thought to inhabit bodies of water), the belief that spirits of the dead have consciousness and can roam about, and a lively sense of the power of omens and fate. By the third century there are references to propitiation of the spirits of persons who died violent deaths, with offerings of animal flesh presided over by spirit mediums.

Fengshui ("wind and water"), or geomancy, also developed during the Han as a ritual expression of the yin/yang and five-phases worldview. It is the art of locating graves, buildings, and cities in auspicious places where there is a concentration of the vital energies (qi) of earth and atmosphere. It is believed that the dead in graves so located will bless their descendants. The earliest extant fengshui texts are attributed to famous diviners of the third and fourth centuries. Chinese religion was thus developed at a number of levels by the time Buddhism arrived, although Buddhism offered several fresh interpretations of morality, personal destiny, and the fate of the dead.

The Period of Disunion

By the time the first Buddhist monks and texts appeared in China around the first century C.E., the Han dynasty was already in decline. At court, rival factions competed for imperial favor, and in the provinces restless governors moved toward independence. Political and military fragmentation was hastened by the campaigns against the Yellow Scarves uprising, after which a whole series of adventurers arose to attack each other and take over territory. In the first decade of the third century three major power centers emerged in the north, southeast, and southwest, with that in the north controlling the last Han emperor and ruling in his name. By 222 these three centers each had declared themselves states, and China entered a period of political division that was to last until late in the sixth century. In this time of relatively weak central government control, powerful local clans emerged to claim hereditary power over their areas.

The Beginnings of Buddhism in China. With the gradual expansion of Buddhism under the patronage of the Kushan rulers (in present-day northwest India, Pakistan and Afghanistan) into the oasis states of Central Asia, and with the corresponding expansion of Chinese influence into this same region, it became inevitable that Buddhism would be introduced into East Asia. Over a thousand-year period from the beginning of the common era until the close of the first millennium the opportunities for cultural exchange with South and West Asia afforded by the so-called Silk Route - actually a whole network of trade routes throughout Asia and connecting it with Europe -- nourished vibrant East Asian Buddhist traditions. These began with earnest imitation of their Indian antecedents and culminated in the great independent systems of thought that characterize the fully developed tradition: Huayan, Tiantai, Jingtu, and Chan.

From about 100 B.C.E. on it would have been relatively easy for Buddhist ideas and practices to come to China with foreign merchants, but the first reliable notice of it in Chinese sources is dated 65 C.E.. In a royal edict of that year we are told that a prince administering a city in what is now northern Jiangsu Province "recites the subtle words of Huang-Lao, and respectfully performs the gentle sacrifices to the Buddha." He was encouraged to "entertain upasakas and sramanas," Buddhist lay devotees and initiates. In 148 C.E. the first of several foreign monks, An Shigao, settled in Luoyang, the capital of the Latter Han. Over the next forty years he and other scholars translated about thirty Buddhist scriptures into Chinese, most of them from pre-Mahayana traditions, emphasizing meditation and moral principles. However, by about 185 three Mahayana Prajñaparamita (Perfection of Wisdom) texts were translated as well.

A memorial dated 166, approving Buddhist "purity," "emptiness," nonviolence, and control of sensual desires, further informs us that in that year the emperor performed a joint sacrifice to Laozi and the Buddha. In 193/194 a local warlord in what is now Jiangsu erected a Buddhist temple that could hold more than three thousand people. It contained a bronze Buddha image before which offerings were made and scriptures were read. During ceremonies in honor of the Buddha's birthday thousands came to participate, watch, and enjoy free food and wine. Thus, by the end of the second century there were at least two centers of Buddhist activity, Luoyang in the north and an area in the southeast. At court Buddhist symbols were used in essentially Daoist rituals, but in the scriptures the novelty and difference of Buddhism were made clear in crude vernacular translations. Such novelty appears in injunctions to eliminate desires, to love all beings equally, without special preference for one's family, and to regard the body as transitory and doomed to decay, rather than an arena for seeking immortality.

Although early sources mention terms for various clerical ranks, rules for monastic life were transmitted in a haphazard and incomplete fashion. Monks and nuns lived in cloisters that cannot properly be called monasteries until a few centuries later. Meanwhile, leadership of the Chinese clergy was provided first by Central Asian monks, then by naturalized Chinese of foreign descent, and by the fourth century, by Chinese themselves. Nuns are first mentioned in that century as well.

The movement of Buddhism to China, one of the great cultural interactions of history, was slow and fortuitous, carried out almost entirely at a private level. The basic reason for its eventual acceptance throughout Chinese society was that it offered several religious and social advantages unavailable to the same extent in China before. These included a full-time religious vocation for both men and women in an organization largely independent of family and state, a clear promise of life after death at various levels, and developed conceptions of paradise and purgatory, connected to life through the results of intentional actions (karma). Many women found Buddhism an attractive alternative to the "woman's Way" supported by Confucianism, with its limited options for fulfillment as wives and mothers. Buddhism also offered the worship of heroic saviors in image form, supported by scriptures that told of their wisdom and compassion. For ordinary folk there were egalitarian moral principles, promises of healing and protection from harmful forces, and simple means of devotion; for intellectuals there were sophisticated philosophy and the challenge of attaining new states of consciousness in meditation, all of this expounded by a relatively educated clergy who recruited, organized, translated, and preached.

In the early fourth century North China was invaded by the nomadic Xiongnu, who sacked Luoyang in 311 and Chang'an in 316. Thousands of elite families fled south below the Yangze River, where a series of short-lived Chinese dynasties held off further invasions. In the North a succession of kingdoms of Inner Asian background rose and fell, most of which supported Buddhism because of its religious appeal and its non-Chinese origins. The forms of Buddhism that developed here emphasized ritual, ideological support for the state, magic protection, and meditation

It was in the South, however, that Buddhism first became a part of Chinese intellectual history. The Han imperial Confucian synthesis had collapsed with the dynasty, a collapse that encouraged a quest for new philosophical alternatives. Representatives of these alternatives found support in aristocratic clans, which competed with each other in part through philosophical debates. These debates, called qingtan, or "pure conversation," revived and refined a tradition that had been widespread in the period of the so-called Hundred Philosophers (sixth and fifth centuries B.C.E.), a tradition with precise rules of definition and criteria for victory. By the mid-third century these debates revolved around two basic perspectives, that of rather conservative moralists called the "school of names" (mingjiao) and that of those advocating "spontaneous naturalism" (ziran). By the early fourth century Buddhist monks were involved in these debates, supported by sympathetic clans, advocating a middle ground between the conservatives and libertarians, spiritual freedom based on ethical discipline. Although Buddhism was still imperfectly understood, it had gained a vital foothold.

Chinese intellectuals first attempted to understand Buddhism through its apparent similarities to certain beliefs and practices of Daoism and immortality cults. Thus, bodhisattvas and Buddhas were correlated with sages and immortals, meditation with circulation of the vital fluids, and nirvana with wuwei, spontaneous, non-intentional action. However, Indian Buddhism and traditional Chinese thought have very different understandings of life and the world. Buddhist thought is primarily psychological and epistemological, concerned with liberation from samsara, the world perceived as a realm of suffering, impermanence, and death. For the Chinese, on the other hand, nature and society are fundamentally good; our task is to harmonize with the positive forces of nature, and enlightenment consists of identifying with these forces, rather than in being freed from them. The interaction of these worldviews led Chinese Buddhists to interpret psychological concepts in cosmological directions. For example, the key Mahayana term "emptiness" (sunyata in Sanskrit, kong in Chinese) refers primarily to the interdependence of all things -- i.e. their lack of any independent nature or being - and to the radically objective and neutral mode of perception that accepts the impermanence and interdependence of things without trying to control them or project onto them human concepts and values. Indeed, the first discussions of this term used it as a logical tool to destroy false confidence in philosophical and religious concepts, particularly earlier Buddhist ones. All concepts, according to this doctrine, are mutually contradictory and refer to nothing substantial; hence they are "empty." In China, however, "emptiness" immediately evoked discussion about the origin and nature of the phenomenal world. "Emptiness" was equated with "non-being" (wu), the fecund source of existence, and "vacuity" (xu), the absence of concrete existence or cognitive preconception, both of which are prominent concepts in the Laozi. As their understanding of Buddhism deepened, Chinese thinkers became more aware of the epistemological force of the term "emptiness," but continued to see it primarily as a problem in interpreting the world itself. In that respect it was somewhat consistent with certain Confucian and Daoist ideas, such as the notion that persons and things are defined by their relationships with others or their positions in the overall pattern of things -- the Dao.

Buddhist thought was already well developed and complexly differentiated before it reached China. Likewise, Chinese culture, religion, and philosophy were mature and highly developed when Buddhism entered China. So the story of Buddhism in China was a case of two mature cultural systems, with some rather fundamental linguistic and social differences, interacting and transforming each other. But at first the Chinese knew of Buddhism only through scriptures haphazardly collected, in translations of varying accuracy, for very few Chinese learned Sanskrit. Since all the sutras claimed to be preached by the Buddha himself, they were accepted as such, with discrepancies among them explained as deriving from the different situations and capacities of listeners prevailing when a particular text was preached. In practice, this meant that the Chinese had to select from a vast range of data those themes that made the most sense in their pre-existing worldview. For example, as the tradition develops we find emphases on simplicity and directness, the universal potential for enlightenment, and the Buddha mind as source of the cosmos, all of them prepared for by similar ideas in indigenous thought and practice.

The most important early Chinese Buddhist philosophers, organizers, and translators were Daoan (312-385), Huiyuan (334-417), and Kumarajiva (334-413), each of whom contributed substantially to the growth of the young "church." Daoan was known principally for his organizational and exegetical skills and for the catalog of Buddhist scriptures he compiled. His disciple Huiyuan, one of the most learned clerics in South China, gathered a large community of monks around him and inaugurated a cult to Amitabha, a popular Buddha. Kumarajiva, the most important and prolific of the early translators, was responsible for the transmission of the Madyamika (Sanlun) tradition to China. His lectures on Buddhist scripture in Chang'an established a sound doctrinal basis for Mahayana thought in the Middle Kingdom. Another formative early figure was Daosheng (d. 434 C.E.), a student of Kumarajiva. He is known for his emphasis on the positive nature of nirvana, his conviction that even non-believers have the potential for salvation, and his teaching of instantaneous enlightenment. Like the concept of emptiness, these ideas resonated well with certain Confucian and Daoist concepts, such as the goodness of human nature in Mencius and the Daoist notion of spontaneity. Such themes helped lay the foundation for Chan (Jpn., Zen) Buddhism in the seventh and eighth centuries. [See the biographies of Daoan, Huiyuan, Kumarajiva, and Daosheng.]

The history of monastic Buddhism was closely tied to state attitudes and policies, which ranged from outright suppression to complete support, as in the case of Emperor Wu of the Liang dynasty (r. 502-549), who abolished Daoist temples and built Buddhist ones, and three times entered a monastery himself as a lay servitor. [See the biography of Liang Wudi.] However, by the fifth century Buddhism was becoming well established among people of all classes, who, to gain karmic merit, donated land and goods, took lay vows, served in monasteries, and established a variety of voluntary associations to copy scriptures, provide vegetarian food for monks and nuns, and carve Buddha images. The most important image-carving projects were at Yungang in Shanxi and Longmen in Honan, where huge figures, chiefly those of Sakyamuni and Maitreya, were cut into cliffs and caves. Such major projects of course also involved large-scale official and clerical support.

It was in the fifth century as well that Chinese Buddhist eschatology developed, based in part on predictions attributed to the Buddha that a few hundred years after his entry into nirvana the Dharma (the Buddha's teachings) would lose its vigor, morals would decline, and ignorant, corrupt monks and nuns would appear. In addition, from its inception as a full-fledged religion in the second century Daoism had proclaimed itself to be the manifestation of a new age of cosmic vitality, supported by pious devotees, "seed people." A combination of these motifs led to the composition in China of Buddhist scriptures saying that since the end of the age had come, more intense morality and piety were required of those who wished to be saved. These texts also promised aid from saving bodhisattvas such as Maitreya, the next Buddha-to-be. In some cases the apocalyptic vision of these texts inspired militant utopian movements, led by monks, but with lay membership. By the early seventh century a few of these groups were involved in armed uprisings in the name of Maitreya, which led eventually to a decline in official support for his cult, although he remained important in popular sectarian eschatology. [See Millenarianism, article on Chinese Millenarian Movements, and Maitreya.]

The first important school of Buddhist thought developed in China was the Tiantai, founded by the monk Zhiyi (538-597). This school is noted for its synthesis of earlier Buddhist traditions into one system, divided into five periods of development according to stages in the Buddha's teaching. According to Tiantai, the Buddha's teachings culminated in his exposition of the Lotus Sutra, in which all approaches are unified. Zhiyi also systematized the theory and practice of Mahayana meditation. His most important philosophical contribution was his affirmation of the absolute Buddha mind as the source and substance of all phenomena. In Zhiyi's teaching the old Madhyamika logical destruction of dualities is replaced by a positive emphasis on their identity in a common source. So, in impeccably Buddhist language, he was able to justify the phenomenal world, and thus to provide an intellectual foundation for much of the later development of Buddhism in China. [See Tiantai and the biography of Zhiyi.]

In 581 China was reunified by the Sui dynasty (581-618) after three and a half centuries of political fragmentation. The Sui founder supported Buddhism, particularly the Tiantai school, as a unifying ideology shared by many of his subjects in both North and South. After four decades of rule the Sui was overthrown in a series of rebellions, to be replaced by the Tang (618-907). Although the new dynasty tended to give more official support to Confucianism and Daoism, Buddhism continued to grow at every level of society.

The Rise of Daoist Religion. By the fourth century Daoism was characterized by a literate and self-perpetuating priesthood, a pantheon of celestial deities, complex rituals, and revealed scriptures in classical (literary) Chinese. Although the first elements of this tradition appeared in the second century popular movements discussed above, the tradition underwent further development at the hands of gentry scholars versed in philosophy, ethical teachings, and alchemy. These scholars saw themselves as formulators of a new, more refined religion superior to the popular cults around them. This new system was led by priests who, though not officials, claimed celestial prerogatives.

Daoism is fundamentally rooted in the concept of qi, the psycho-physical-spiritual substance out of which nature, gods, and humans evolve. The source and order of this vital substance is the Dao, the ultimate power of life in the universe. The gods are personified manifestations of qi, symbolizing astral powers of the cosmos and organs of the human body with which they are correlated. Under the conditions of ordinary existence qi becomes stale and dissipated, so it must be renewed through ritual and meditative processes that restore its primal vitality. Some of these practices consist of visualizing and calling down the cosmic gods to reestablish their contact with their bodily correlates. In this way the adept ingests divine power and so recharges his bodily forces for healing, rejuvenation, and long life. In others, the substances of the human body - jing (life-giving "essences," such as sexual fluids), qi ("vital breath," in a more specific sense than the general qi of which all things are composed), and shen (spirit) - are manipulated and purified through visualization and meditation. Physical exercises and dietary practices (such as abstinence from grains, which are thought to contain the dark yin power of the earth) are also parts of the Daoist regimen. The general aim of these practices is to enhance spiritual and physical health. Accomplished practice results in the purification of the psycho-physical being into the embryo of a new, immortal self. Rituals are also performed for an entire community; Daoist masters can release their cosmic power through ritual actions that revive the life forces of the community around them.

When the Celestial Master sect was officially recognized by the state of Wei (220-266) in the early third century its leadership was established in the capital, Luoyang, north and east of the old sect base area in modern Sichuan. In the North remnants of the Yellow Scarves still survived, and before long the teachings and rituals of these two similar traditions blended together. A tension remained, however, between those who saw secular authority as a manifestation of the Way and those determined to bring in a new era of peace and prosperity by militant activity. Uprisings led by charismatic figures who claimed long life and healing powers occurred in different areas throughout the fourth century and later.

Meanwhile, in the southeast another tradition emerged that was to contribute to Daoism, a tradition concerned with alchemy, the use of herbs and minerals to attain immortality. Its chief literary expression was the Baopuzi (The Master Who Embraces Simplicity) written by Ge Hong in about 320. Ge Hong collected a large number of alchemical formulas and legends of the immortals, intended to show how the body can be transformed by the ingestion of gold and other chemicals and by the inner circulation of the vital qi, special diets, and sexual techniques, all reinforced by moral dedication. Ge Hong's concerns were supported by members of the old aristocracy of the state of Wu (222-280) whose families had moved south during the Latter Han period. [See the biography of Ge Hong.]

When the northern state of Jin was conquered by the Xiongnu in 316, thousands of Jin gentry and officials moved south, bringing the Celestial Master sect with them. The eventual result was a blending of Celestial Master concern for priestly adminstration and collective rituals with the more individualistic and esoteric alchemical traditions of the southeast. Between the years 364 and 370 a young man named Yang Xi claimed to receive revelations from "perfected ones" (zhenren, a term from the Zhuangzi) or exalted immortals from the Heaven of Supreme Purity (Shangqing). These deities directed Yang to make transcripts and deliver them to Xu Mi (303-373), an official of the Eastern Jin state (317-420) with whom he was associated. Yang Xi believed his new revelations to be from celestial regions more exalted than those evoked by the Celestial Master sect and Ge Hong. The Perfected Ones rewrote and corrected earlier texts in poetic language, reformulated sexual rites as symbols of spiritual union, and taught new methods of inner cultivation and alchemy. These teachings were all presented in an eschatological context, as the salvation of an elect people in a time of chaos. They prophesied that a "lord of the Way, [a] sage who is to come" would descend in 392. Then the wicked would be eliminated and a purified terrestrial kingdom established, ruled over by such pious devotees as Xu Mi, now perceived as a priest and future celestial official. It is perhaps not accidental that these promises were made to members of the old southern aristocracy whose status had recently been threatened by the newcomers from the north. [See Zhenren.]

Xu Mi and one of his sons had retired to Maoshan, a mountain near the Eastern Jin capital (modern Nanjing); hence the texts they received and transcribed came to be called those of a Maoshan "school." In the next century another southern scholar, Tao Hongjing (456-536), collected all the remaining manuscripts from Yang Xi and the Xu family and edited them as the Zhen'gao (Declarations of the Perfected). With this the Maoshan/Shangqing scriptures were established as a foundation stone of the emerging Daoist canon. [See the biography of Tao Hongjing.]

In the meantime another member of Ge Hong's clan had written a scripture in about 397, the Lingbaojing (Scripture of the Sacred Jewel), which he claimed had been revealed to him by the spirit of an early third-century ancestor. This text exalted "celestial worthies" (tianzun), who were worshiped in elaborate collective rituals directed by priests in outdoor arenas. The Lingbaojing established another strand of Daoist mythology and practice that was also codified in the South during the fifth century. Its rituals replaced those of the Celestial Master tradition, while remaining indebted to them. Lingbao texts were collected and edited by Lu Xiujing (406-477), who wrote on Daoist history and ritual. [See the biography of Lu Xiujing.]

Daoism was active in the North as well, in the Northern Wei kingdom (386-534), which established Daoist offices at court in 400. In 415 and 423 a scholar named Kou Qianzhi (d. 448) claimed to have received direct revelations from Lord Lao while he was living on a sacred mountain. The resulting scriptures directed Kou to reform the Celestial Master tradition; renounce popular cults, messianic uprisings, and sexual rituals; and support the court as a Daoist kingdom on earth. Kou was introduced to the Wei ruler by a sympathetic official named Cui Hao (d. 450) in 424 and was promptly appointed to the office of "Erudite of Transcendent Beings." The next year he was proclaimed Celestial Master, and his teachings "promulgated throughout the realm." For the next two decades Kou and Cui cooperated to promote Daoism at the court. As a result, in 440 the king accepted the title Perfect Ruler of Great Peace, and d