From the complementing perspective of historical research, the present focus is supposed to open up the world of a document (created by a European scholar in a very “exotic” language) that presents a unique window into the transcultural communication between the aforementioned European and Chinese Han and Manchu cultural perspectives within mid-eighteenth-century China. Von der Gabelentz’s work represents a Western translation from a language that is now almost extinct and which has not been taken much notice of in mainstream Sinology since the later 19th century. (It has been partly “outsourced” by way of the creation of the specialized field of Manchu Studies.) Book 1 of SLJBH contains conceptual elements and allusions with regard to Manchu spirituality that have not yet been discussed in modern Sinology or in discourses on premodern Chinese philosophies and worldviews. I will try to “unearth” some of this here, namely also to allude to the general task of developing a more complete picture of the multiethnic characteristics of Chinese thought culture and spirituality during the Qing dynasty (1644–1912)—including the Jesuit reflection of these characteristics in the last decades before the temporary papal abolishment of the order in 1773 (see also in the current text, endnote 10).
3.1. De la Charme’s Own Incentive and the Status of the Work from a Modern Perspective
In order to arrive at this last-mentioned point, however, the relevant aspects of von der Gabelentz’s translation of Book 1 should first be analyzed from a historical and more rigorously analytical perspective. It has to include the original work, the contexts of
XLZ,
XLZTG, and the translation (
Sun 1840), as well as the corresponding reflections by Hans Conon
von der Gabelentz (
1840). The focus on historical contexts is important in order to understand the original impetus of the work. For example, Liu considers the long (six-book) version
XLZ (
Sun 1753a,
1753b) to represent an early contribution to the field of comparative philosophy (
Liu 2007, p. 75). With respect to what has just been said in the preceding paragraph above, I would argue against this categorization. Apart from the fact that the discipline of comparative philosophy did not emerge before the early 20th century (e.g.,
Masson-Oursel 1911), neither
XLZ nor the shorter
XLZTG in Chinese, nor the Manchu
SLJBH (including the German translation of its first book), fulfill current standards that would allow for it to be defined as comparative philosophy.
It was not de la Charme’s (Sun Zhang’s) aim to merely and
explicitly compare Western, Han Chinese, and Manchu philosophical or spiritual elements here. In many respects, the discussion is at best implicitly comparative. The elements at play are not properly defined as objects of a comparative perspective (e.g., implicit allusions to Manchu elements; see below). Also, one has to assume that the underlying incentive of the text was still to lay some intellectual (covertly “Westernizing”) groundwork for possible future missionary work (which was inhibited at the time). At least this can be inferred from the unconcealed goal of introducing a Christian worldview in the longer work
XLZ.
Menegon (
2022) defines it “as an attempt to critique neo-Confucian philosophical concepts, and introduce Christianity as compatible with the ancient, pre-Song Confucian classics, following the model of Ricci’s
True Meaning of the Lord of Heaven (
Tianzhu shiyi 天主實義)” (p. 61). In modern transcultural-comparative philosophy or so-called post-comparative approaches, one would refrain from such a “rating” mindset or decisions in favor of a particular “psycho-mental complex” (
Shirokogoroff 1935) of one group of people(s) over the philosophical worldview or belief system of another. Researchers in the modern comparative field should avoid this, of course (e.g.,
Bartosch 2015,
2022, p. 407).
In the cases of the Chinese-written texts (
Sun 1753a,
1753b,
1753c), the target audience is contemporary Chinese-speaking scholars and officials, regardless if their ethnic background was Han Chinese, Manchu, or otherwise. In the Manchu version (
Sun 1753d), the additional goal to influence the ruling Manchu elites can be indirectly deduced from the content of the work. In this regard, some of von der Gabelentz’s own comments in the preface to the translation have been very helpful as starting points. At this point, I will say that it cannot be denied that de la Charme, at least implicitly, rates or evaluates the content of one spiritual and philosophical tradition, namely, in the abridged version, the
disguised Christian one (namely in implicitly Cartesian form), against the background of another, which does not even share the same origins with the former. This tradition, which de la Charme seeks to reinterpret in the image of the former, is the Neo-Confucian one. It is already “targeted” in the titles of
XLZTG/
SLJBH by referring to the central doctrine of
xingli 性理/
sing lii ![Religions 16 00891 i006]()
of the Neo-Confucian school of
Lixue. This doctrine primarily dates back to the Song dynasty and counts as a paradigmatic background for eighteenth-century Chinese higher education in the context of officialdom.
Put differently, and to emphasize this point once more: Although the following will show that de la Charme may have built a profound comparative understanding for himself at the time, he does not express it in the sense of modern comparative philosophy. The first keyword here is ‘accommodation’. In the related sense of rhetoric as based on particular principles of persuasion, de la Charme wants to persuade the Manchu reader of an implicit Western worldview that he “camouflages” by bending established Neo-Confucian terms in a completely unexpected direction. Book 1 of
SLJBH (
Sun 1753d) is linguistically constructed in a way that
implicitly, that is, in a fuzzy, allusive manner, seeks a kind of “alliance” with elements of Manchu shamanism (or more generally speaking, the contemporary Manchu folk religion) of the ruling elites of the time. From a “rhetorical” point of view, the reason is that, at least from a superficial perspective, the Manchu worldview clearly offers more points of resonance with Christian elements than the Neo-Confucian paradigm that de la Charme (Sun Zhang) is implicitly trying to erode in the context of his accommodating, allegedly “Confucian” argumentation. I hasten to say that my emphasis on the word ‘rhetoric’ is not supposed to mean that de la Charme did not ascribe any philosophical or religious truth to his favored worldview, of course. The opposite is actually the case, of course. Later on, I will discuss this point in more detail and against the background of a second keyword, namely,
prisca theologia (‘ancient theology’) (see
Section 3.5).
At this point of the investigation, I will focus on the first aspect of accommodation: In de la Charme’s rhetorical perspective, the abovesaid transcultural hierarchy of the value of one belief structure and philosophical worldview over the other is set up, albeit more allusively, in an irrevocable way right at the very beginning of Book 1 of SLJBH.
One dialogue character, he is referred to as philosopher A here, not only deputizes for the (alleged?) positions of ancient Confucianism (favored as a tool of accommodation), but is also introduced as a person of respect, right at the beginning. His character is presented as very much senior compared to philosopher B. In the sense of a rhetorical technique, this automatically establishes a hierarchy between A and B from a Confucian perspective. The “elder” philosopher A stands for the original, ancient Confucianism. Philosopher B, who is “younger” and, thus, imagined as the less knowledgeable and less experienced discussion partner in this alleged Confucian setting, is presented as the one who is searching and looking for answers. Accordingly, this “newer” (
neuere) (
Sun 1840, p. 255, etc.) philosopher also symbolizes the much more recent positions of Song Neo-Confucianism. It is well known that the Jesuit China scholars (including de la Charme) favored a return to the positions of the ancient classics. The Jesuit Fathers viewed some of the layers in ancient Confucian lore as theistic and even original Abrahamic remnants (see
Section 3.5, my remarks on
prisca theologia) that would eventually allow for an easier transformation of early Confucian foundations into new Chinese Christian frameworks (in terms of fluid transitions to conversion, so to speak) (
López Angelini 2024). The same holds true, mutatis mutandis, with regard to the implicit Manchu shamanic elements discussed further below (see
Section 3.6). In my view, it is most likely that de la Charme viewed these as an additional “stepping stone” in the abovementioned regard and under the given conditions at the time.
3.2. Topic, Rhetorical Basis, and Basic Terms of Sing lii jen ciyan bithei hešen, Book 1
In the context of the dialogical unfoldment of de la Charme’s train of thought, the younger philosopher B also addresses A as “master” (
Sun 1840, p. 258), right at the beginning. In return, A then only starts to refer to B as a “master” when the latter is in the process of slowly adopting A’s positions. Also here, de la Charme’s mastery of rhetoric is striking, when he repeatedly has philosopher B refer to positions that already help to prepare or initiate corresponding antitheses of A (namely against the paradigmatic Neo-Confucian foundations of the contemporary elite of Chinese officials). Often, the “elder” philosopher A then only has to convert these implicit “passes” into expressed thoughts which represent de la Charme’s culturally “costumed” ideas, of course (
Bartosch 2022, p. 408).
This starts right away in the opening passage of the first chapter of Book 1 of
SLJBH, when de la Charme has the
younger philosopher B say the following (my translation of von der Gabelentz’s German translation): “Since the human body has a soul that makes it superior to all other creatures and distinguishes it from animals, the activity of reason in man must surely perfect reason, develop the virtues and fulfill the laws of the soul” (
Sun 1840, p. 253). The German word for ‘soul’ is
Seele. In analogy to Schott’s translation of the Chinese equivalent term (see further above), it serves as von der Gabelentz’s translation term for the Manchu
sure banin (p. 253, fn. 1). The Chinese equivalent here is the previously mentioned term
lingxing 靈性 (
Sun 1753c). According to Hans Conon von der Gabelentz’s own Manchu–German dictionary (1864b), the expression
sure banin ![Religions 16 00891 i007]()
is a quite literal translation of the Chinese
lingxing. The word
sure can be translated as
einsichtig (‘insightful’, ‘understanding’),
vernünftig (‘reasonable’, ‘sound’, ‘rational’, ‘wise’, intelligent, etc.),
verständig (see
vernünftig),
deutlich (‘clear’, ‘articulate’, ‘sharp’, etc.);
Verstand (‘mind’, ‘wit’, ‘intellect’, ‘reason’, etc.),
Klugheit (‘wisdom’, ‘prudence’, ‘intelligence’, ‘cleverness’, etc.), and
Verständnis (‘understanding’, ‘insight’, ‘grasp’) (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 185; cf. also
Norman 1978, p. 254). The word
banin means
Natur (‘nature’) (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 17; cf. also
Norman 2013, p. 29).
We will later more clearly see why the meaning of
sure banin as translation term for
lingxing in the sense of
Seele (‘soul’) must be distinguished from the Chinese concept
li 理. According to Gabelentz, the Manchu translation term for this Chinese character is “
gian” (
von der Gabelentz in Sun 1840, p. 253, fn. 1). In his Manchu dictionary, he later provides a better transliteration for the same word, that is, “
giyan” (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 81, italics DB). The German word used to translate
giyan in Gabelentz’s translation of
SLJBH, Book 1, is
Vernunft (‘reason’) (
Sun 1840). According to von der Gabelentz, the Chinese
li, or Manchu
giyan ![Religions 16 00891 i005]()
, “is usually translated as
Vernunft,
ratio,
raison, etc”. (
von der Gabelentz 1840, p. 251, tr. and italics DB). He adds that
giyan/li actually does
“[…] not refer to man’s subjective reason, but rather to the objective reasonableness of things [Vernunftmäßigkeit der Dinge], [however], and in individual cases, these words could be more aptly translated as reasonableness, form, characteristic manner [Art], property [Eigentümlichkeit], etc. However, since none of these expressions would be applicable in all cases, and since it seemed especially necessary to me to use specific German words to refer to specific Manchu expressions, I have used the word ‘Vernunft’ [‘reason’] throughout”.
In this context and also in view of what follows in the text, part of the statement of philosopher B in the last-but-second paragraph above the indented quote—that is, “[…] the activity of reason [
giyan/li 理] in man must surely perfect reason […] to develop the virtues” (
Sun 1840, p. 253, insertion DB)—can easily be identified with the teachings of the Song dynasty
Lixue,
25 namely with the contemporaneously paradigmatic positions of the most important thinker of the Song era, Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130–1200). They merely serve as a springboard for the unfolding of de la Charme’s own—opposing—thoughts, of course.
Following Cheng Yi 程頤 (1033–1077), Zhu Xi understood
li 理 (von der Gabelentz: ‘
Vernunft’; possible modern translation: ‘(self-)organizing principle’; see also
Section 1) as being present in each individual, processual ‘thing’ (
wu 物) in its respective unique way of unfolding. Zhu Xi thereby viewed
li 理 as
an autopoietic process of unfolding the cosmic order of
all dynamic relations, namely as the cosmic “rhythm” of self-regulation or self-organization
that is ever-present in everything. He understood
li as that which permanently interweaves all things, which constitutes everything and is itself only given as such in the sense of an order-emanating, self-directed activity (
Bartosch 2015, p. 164) while permanently changing from situation to situation in the function of expressing the “reasonableness of things” (see above, last indented quote). It is the task of the (Neo-)Confucian gentleman (
junzi 君子) to direct himself toward the unfolding of the universal or ‘Heavenly
li’ (
tianli 天理) in all things and situations, which has its effect(s)
through all of these—in as many directions of learning and life experience as possible. According to Zhu Xi, the goal of this ‘investigation of (situational and processual) things’ (
gewu 格物) is to align the inner workings of one’s ‘heart-mind’ (
xin 心) with the permanent self-unfolding of
li within the boundaries of the
qi 氣 (‘matter-energy’
26; see further below) set by one’s body. The common goal of practice was to purify one’s personal
qi and possibly even to ‘find
dao’ (
wu dao 悟道), which would mean the perfect reintegration into the universal process as the
ultimate goal (see also
Bartosch 2015, pp. 164–83, 534–56, etc.).
A Chinese–Manchu edition of a book “17.
Singli. IV Hefte [four book(let)s]. 1732”, which was linguistically accessible to von der Gabelentz through the Manchu part, is listed in the catalogue of his private library, edited by his son ([H.G.C.]
von der Gabelentz 1862, p. 543, insertion DB). From the catalogue, we learn that this work contained texts by Zhou Dunyi 周敦頤 (1017–1073) and Zhang Zai 張載 (1020–1077), as well as comments by Zhu Xi. All of these are major works of Song dynasty
Lixue. My guess is that the listed book represented an edition of
Jinsilu 近思錄 (1175) or
Xingli Daquanshu 性理大全書 (1415) (cf. also
Bartosch 2022, p. 397, fn. 31).
27 In case that the elder von der Gabelentz already owned this edition when he translated the first volume of
SLJBH, one would have to assume that he had at least a basic understanding of some of the Neo-Confucian backgrounds and concepts mentioned here.
3.3. Basic Deviating Elements in de la Charme’s Concept of the Soul
Apart from the last-mentioned, second part of philosopher B’s proposition in the opening passage of
SLJBH (concerning the “activity of reason”, etc.) (see above,
Section 3.2, after the last indented quote), however, the preceding part of his introductory statement (see above, the 2nd paragraph of
Section 3.2) is not very congruent with Neo-Confucian traditions—and not even with premodern (Han) Chinese philosophical lore in general. The vague statement that the “human body has a soul that makes it superior to all other creatures and distinguishes it from animals” (
Sun 1840, p. 253) sounds actually very affine to Christian views. In its vagueness, it even implicitly resonates with preceding Hellen(ist)ic (Neo-)Platonic and,
mutatis mutandis, even more so with the Cartesian views of the era when de la Charme had experienced his academic upbringing. We will see that the latter impression can actually be further substantiated.
I also intend to show that it is the rhetorical means of categorical vagueness which allows de la Charme to allude to European and Manchu world views in
SLJBH in a kind of
implicit parallel setting—nota bene
without performing
explicit parallel analyses or comparative work. Moreover, the aforementioned Chinese term
lingxing that is used in
XLZ and
XLZTG is unambiguously
not a term of the ancient Chinese foundations (see further above and in
Section 3.4) that de la Charme claims for his rather
strategic incentive.
Compared to Zhu Xi’s views, or rather more generally speaking, to the paradigmatic views of
Lixue (and, in addition, also that of
Xinxue 心學, the other important school of Neo-Confucianism, which was marginalized at the time), Sun Zhang’s (de la Charme’s) statement sounds “alien”, to say the least. De la Charme uses the term
sure banin (Chinese:
lingxing; von der Gabelentz’s German translation: ‘
Seele’ [‘soul’]) in a way that mirrors his approach to implicitly laying the ground for an introduction of European concepts in “Chinese garments”, if I may say so. In this context, and at this point of the investigation, it is also worthwhile to recall the general content of the second and third books of
XLZTG (
Sun 1753c), or rather,
SLJBH (
Sun 1753d), as mentioned further above (see
Section 2.3). Although, these are not within the scope of the present investigation, it has to be noted that Book 2 introduces the idea of a creator god. This is noteworthy in terms of (intratextual) context. Such a concept is definitely not part of the portfolio of contemporary Neo-Confucianism. Although de la Charme makes no mention of Christian terms directly, this represents a perfect example of Jesuit accommodation or rhetoric-based assimilation and conversion strategy, namely in the context of mid-eighteenth-century Chinese thought culture.
From a historical perspective, de la Charme’s approach is highly remarkable, because the
implicit transfer of Western ideas and, what is more,
partial fusion of Chinese and Western concepts that takes place here foreshadows much later developments in Chinese philosophical modernity. These were initiated at the end of the 19th century, when Western ideas and worldviews were introduced (or reintroduced) more openly and
explicitly, of course. In Zhu Xi’s
Weltanschauung, there is certainly no such transcorporeal or supraphysical
animating entity in the sense of de la Charme’s concept of
lingxing/sure banin. The aliveness of the body results from the dynamic flow of the universal
qi (with Joseph Needham, Mary Evelyn Tucker, etc., translatable as ‘matter-energy’) and its individual and inseparable regulation by its ‘(self-)organizing principle’ (
li 理, my translation, to be distinguished from von der Gabeletz’s use of
Vernunft). The ‘human heart-mind’ (
renxin 人心) that can be exercised to return the practitioner of
Lixue to his pristine original state is not a concept that corresponds to any possible earlier or contemporaneous Western concepts of the immortal soul (that can be traced as far back as Pindar in the early 6th century BCE (
Wright 2003, p. 48)).
That the human body (in the sense of Zhu Xi) lacks such an equivalent of an independent, singular soul (or, rather, that
xin is not a ‘soul’) can be inferred, for example, from Joseph Needham’s following reference to Zhu Xi: “Someone asked whether, at the time of death, a man’s consciousness is dissipated and scattered [
san 散]. The philosopher answered that it was not merely dissipated,
but completely finished. The [
qi 氣] (of his body) comes to an end, and so does his consciousness” (
Needham 1977, p. 490, italics and insertions DB). In a kind of opening contrast, namely right after the introductory passage in the first chapter of
Sing-li-tchin-thsiouan die wahrhafte Darstellung der Naturphilosophie (erster Theil) (
Sun 1840, p. 253; see also the quote in
Section 3.2, further above), and as a sort of jumping-off point for everything that follows, philosopher B introduces exactly this well-known, implictly antithetical, position of Zhu Xi—nota bene without mentioning Zhu Xi or any other Neo-Confucian master by name:
“It may be said that when a human being dies, that person is completely annihilated. The entire nature of a human being is based on matter [von der Gabelentz’s German transl. term for
sukdun ![Religions 16 00891 i004]()
/
qi 氣 is
Materie ‘matter’]; when matter condenses, a person comes into being; when matter dissolves, a person dies. A person’s life lasts only one generation; it is uncertain whether he will survive this generation. Let us […] gratify our senses only with the enjoyments and occupations of this life. Why should we strive for anything else?”
According to the earlier-mentioned Confucian classic
Liji (
Book of Rites)—which was particularly important to Zhu Xi, who derived the
Daxue 大學 (
The Great Learning) from one of its chapters
28—the human being’s special position does not result from a divinely created “soul” but from the status as the “crossing of
yin–yang 陰陽, the coming together of (Earthly) ghosts and (Heavenly) spirits, the refined
qi of the five phases (
wu xing 五行), […] the heart of Heaven and Earth, the foundation of the five phases”
29 (
Liji, n.d., “Liyun 禮運”, paragraph 20, tr. DB). Among other things, this gave rise to the understanding that not only the aliveness of the body but also human consciousness, emotions, and cognition emerge as a form of the most “refined
qi” in inseparable connection with the foundational workings of
li 理 in its dynamic form of self-organization, namely as an objective
Vernunftmäßigkeit der Dinge ‘reasonableness of things’, according to von der Gabelentz (1840, p. 251). This reasonableness is an appearance of
li’s all-encompassing
yin–yang dynamics, which is
“[…] characteristic of all physical things, [and in view of the latter of which … yang] alludes to movement, [while] the other, [yin], alludes to stillness. From this basic meaning, several other opposites develop, in that the former denotes masculinity, the latter femininity, the former Heaven, the latter Earth, the former the Sun, the latter the Moon, the former the light, the latter the darkness”.
This root of an “anthropocosmic” (
Tu 1973, p. 202) worldview in the Neo-Confucianism(s) of later periods does not reflect the idea of a single individual “soul” that is separate or even independent from the body and its
qi flow. Moreover,
yin–yang does not merely hold the combined process of the world and human consciousness together in the sense of cause and effect. “It has to be kept in mind also that
yin and
yang were always defined relative to each other. A given thing can be
yang relative to one thing but
yin relative to another” (
Kim 2000, p. 47, italics DB).
I would like to add that also the ancient concepts of
hun 魂 and
po 魄 (e.g.,
Brashier 1996), which are often described as a “double” of souls, are not to be confused with philosopher B’s (“pseudo-Confucian”, that is to say, actually
non-Confucian and even implicitly non-Chinese) concept of the soul in the sense of de la Charme’s (Sun Zhang’s) anonymous appropriation and implicit change of meaning of the term
sure banin ![Religions 16 00891 i007]()
(p. 253, fn. 1) here. From de la Charme’s point of view, which is explicated in Book 1 of
SLJBH, there is only
one individual immortal soul.
The main underlying difference (which will become even more pronounced also further below in
Section 3.4) is that, according to Confucian views,
everything that is individual is seen as transient, while what is immortal cannot be individual or singular (
Chung 2018). For example, according to Kong Yingda 孔穎達 (574–648), and as further analyzed by
Wilson (
2014), what is often called the
hun “soul” is basically the Heavenly
yangqi 陽氣 that fills a ‘spirit’ (
shen 神): The idea is that, in life, it is originally without consciousness but produces it, and the death of
any living being means that its former
yangqi rises back to Heaven, radiating brilliantly above, so to speak. The question of whether this aspect survives in an individual form and apart from those who worship it in ancestral temples and in the form of ancestral rites cannot be answered. It is even sometimes the object of sophisticated Confucian humor (irony) (e.g.,
Shuo Yuan quoted in
Harbsmeier 1989, p. 284; cf. also
Bartosch 2025, pp. 83–85). What some call the
po “soul” is the complementary
yin aspect that fills Earthly ghosts and, thus, causes sense perception (the senses) in the living body. Unlike
hun,
po decomposes into earth (
Wilson 2014, pp. 194, 196).
To complicate matters, the Manchu term
fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i008]()
, which de la Charme also uses in addition to convey his own camouflaged, inherently Western concept of the soul (see also further below,
Section 3.4, etc.), has also been used in
other Manchu translations to mean “the
yang soul” (
Norman 2013, p. 109, italics DB). De la Charme uses this word in an alternative compound noun
sure fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i009]()
, translated as
Seele (soul) by von der Gabelentz. However, here it also can
not mean
hun/
yang “soul” for the simple reason that de la Charme’s ‘soul’ is identical with human consciousness, self-cognition, and the processes of human cognition (see also
Section 3.4 and
Section 3.8, etc.). According to the original Chinese concept of
hun, this “
yang soul” is itself
without consciousness, namely only producing it, as mentioned above. Furthermore, we will also see that de la Charme explicitly distinguishes the ‘soul’ (
sure fayangga) from
yin–yang. Another divergence is that,
different from philosopher B’s statement about the exclusivity of the human soul compared to animals (which represents de la Charme’s own position of course), neither
hun nor
po are a special feature of human living beings. Therefore, de la Charme’s (anonymous) statements are not congruent with the ancient concept of the
hun “soul” from this angle either.
We will see that de la Charme’s use of Manchu terms, such as
fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i008]()
, are more resonant with
original Manchu conceptions of the soul—although his approach in this direction is also to be seen as another implicit mode of conceptual assimilation. To be more direct, it serves the goal of covertly introducing modern Cartesian philosophical elements into the contemporary Chinese discourse (see below,
Section 3.5 and
Section 3.6, etc.).
3.4. Cartesian Ideas I: De la Charmes’s Non-Extended Soul and Descartes’s res cogitans
But what does ‘Cartesian philosophical elements’ mean here? For readers who are not familiar with the term ‘Cartesian’, it is derived from the surname of René Descartes (1596–1650), who is often referred to as a founding figure of modern Western philosophy. Here, I use ‘Cartesian’ to refer to the central tenets of Descartes’s philosophical doctrine and the contemporary school of Cartesianism that emerged from it. As mentioned briefly at the beginning, these tenets are characterized by a mind–body dualism, according to which the soul/mind (on the one side) and the body and physical matter (on the other side) are in general considered separate substances or distinctly separated realms. Descartes distinguishes between res cogitans (the soul/mind/consciousness as the non-extended ‘thinking thing’) and res extensa (the material/physical realm of ‘the extended thing’). Cartesianism involves a form rationalism, claiming that only the human being experiences the realm of the res cogitans, or rather, of genuine thought, which is derived from innate ideas and can be cultivated by means of methodological doubt.
The special situation of SLJBH is the abovementioned moment of rhetorical “covertness”. Against the background of the historical context, de la Charme is only allowed to allude to this background, that is to say, without explicitly mentioning any Cartesian concepts and the Western background of his thoughts. To use an image, one might say that the situation is as if he makes us see those Cartesian foundations through a semi-transparent curtain embroidered with Confucian and Manchu shamanic symbols. I would like to remind the reader that this is also the reason why any argumentation intended to reveal this Western background (of this French author’s Chinese/Manchu work) must therefore largely be based on indirect evidence here.
One can begin this train of thought by going back to the above topic of the alienness of de la Charme’s concept of the ‘soul’ (
sure banin/
sure fayangga) in comparison to the ancient Chinese concept of
hun as Heavenly
yangqi. In this sense, the conceptual “rift” between both sides is widened by the following argument in Book 1 of
SLJBH. It is presented by the character of the (“elder”) philosopher A:
“When you explain the soul as the finest matter [qi 氣] of pure [yang 陽], then I ask you, do you intend to produce a large extension by combining several human souls? Or do you intend to produce a small extension by dividing the human soul? By combining all the small souls, do you intend to produce one large soul? Or do you intend to produce a multitude of small souls by dividing one large soul? If that were the case, then the human soul would indeed be matter and body. But is this not completely different from the teaching of the ancients, who opposed body and spirit to each other?”
Here, de la Charme clearly separates the ‘soul’ (Manchu:
sure banin), or rather,
his own concept of it, from the (Chinese) notions of
yang and
qi (von der Gabelentz:
Materie ‘matter’), which throws even more weight behind the argument (see above,
Section 3.3) that de la Charme’s ‘soul’ obviously also cannot be equivalent to the ancient conception of the
hun “soul”.
Regarding de la Charme’s above claim that the “ancients […] opposed body and spirit” (
Sun 1840, p. 263, tr. DB), it has to be noted that ancient Chinese texts have been investigated regarding the question of ancient Chinese forms of mind–body dualisms by way of big data approaches. In this context, “the long-standing and widespread claims that mind–body dualism is entirely foreign to China” (
Slingerland and Chudek 2011, p. 999) is put into question by some researchers. Based on their data evaluation, they argue that ancient authors “were operating against a background assumption of at least ‘weak’—even possibly subconscious—mind–body dualism” (
Slingerland et al. 2017, p. 1009). In my view, it is possible that de la Charme—most likely against the background of some familiarity with Cartesian mind–body dualism—came to a family-resemblant judgement while translating the classics
Liji (
Book of Rites) and
Shijing (
Book of Odes) (see
Section 1.1). However, the claim of an ancient Chinese mind–body dualism contradicts other well-established positions (
Slingerland et al. 2017, p. 1009), and if affirmative at all, I would assume that the respective ancient Chinese statements could only be categorized as a form of “weak folk dualism” (
Slingerland and Chudek 2011, p. 997) but never as “strong folk dualism” (p. 997) in the sense of a quasi-Cartesian, absolute separation of respective notions for ‘mind’ versus ‘body’.
What is more important at this point, in my view, is that the vague reference to “the teachings of the ancients” can be identified as a way of historically hedging an allusion to the aforementioned, contemporaneously modern Cartesian conceptuality of
res cogitans, that is, the soul/mind/consciousness as the
non-extended ‘thinking thing’. According to the latter, (1) there is a soul that is absolutely independent of matter and
has no extension and, on the other side, (2) a realm of physicality or
matter—which is to be identified as
extension per se. Given the contemporary French academic background and upbringing of the author, it would be extremely hard—or should one say rather impossible?—to not identify de la Charme’s accommodating reinterpretation or conceptual transformation of
yangqi (originally the
hun “soul”!) into
extended matter and the separation of the latter from “philosopher A’s” concept of the
non-extended soul as the Sinicized version of the Cartesian
res extensa (‘extended substance’) (see also
Section 3.7 in particular for more details).
Regarding the aspect of the non-divisibility and non-extension of the soul, it is, first, important to recall René Descartes’s famous statement in
Discours de la méthode pour bien conduire sa raison et chercher la vérité dans les sciences (A Discourse on the Method of Correctly Conducting One’s Reason and Seeking Truth in the Sciences, 1637), in which he introduces the distinction of soul/mind (res cogitans) versus matter (or body) (res extensa):
“I thereby concluded that I was a substance whose whole essence or nature resides only in thinking [res cogitans], and which, in order to exist, has no need of place and is not dependent on any material thing [the latter of which belong to the realm of extension and divisibility, res extensa]. Accordingly this ‘I’, that is to say, the Soul by which I am what I am, is entirely distinct from the body and is even easier to know than the body; and would not stop being everything it is, even if the body were not to exist”.
Furthermore, it is also worthwhile to read de la Charme’s last indented quote concerning the non-extended nature of the soul (see above) against the following famous passage in the “Sixth Meditation” of Descartes’s
Meditationes de prima philosophia (
Mediations on First Philosophy, 1641):
“[T]here is a great difference between the mind and the body, inasmuch as the body is by its very nature always divisible, while the mind is utterly indivisible. For when I consider the mind, or myself in so far as I am merely a thinking thing, I am unable to distinguish any parts within myself; I understand myself to be something quite single and complete […]. By contrast, there is no corporeal or extended thing that I can think of which in my thought I cannot easily divide into parts; and this very fact makes me understand that it is divisible. This one argument would be enough to show me that the mind [which basically means the same as ‘soul’ here] is completely different from the body […]”.
Regarding the historical context, it has to be emphasized that at the time of Alexandre de la Charme’s (1695–1767) years of study (before coming to China), Cartesianism had become a widely accepted doctrine that was evolving in many ways. According to
Crépel and Schmit (
2017, n.p. [p. 25]), the Jesuit Noël Regnault (1683–1762) published his
Les Entretiens physiques d’Ariste et d’Eudoxe, a work promoting Cartesian physics as experimental physics, in 1729—the year when de la Charme arrived in China. “This rallying to Descartes was further cemented by a new work by Regnault,
Origine ancienne de la physique nouvelle (1734), which aimed to demonstrate everything Aristotle had in common with Cartesianism” (n.p. [p. 25]). Interestingly, Crepel and Schmit also mention that
Les Entretiens physiques d’Ariste et d’Eudoxe was written in the tradition of dialogued works intended for teaching (n.p. [p. 25])—just like the dialogue of our two “Confucians” in de la Charme’s
SLJBH.
In Chapter 6 of the German translation of
SLJBH, Book 1, that is,
Sing-li-tchin-thsiouan die wahrhafte Darstellung der Naturphilosophie (erster Theil) (
Sun 1840, pp. 266–68), de la Charme provides further arguments for his implicit advocation of Descartes’s position. They can be summarized as follows:
First, the potential of the soul or mind for imagination and the production of abstract concepts (time, space, gravity, spiritual entities, etc.) is virtually infinite. De la Charme reiterates Descartes’s anthropological exceptionalism in this context, emphasizing that only the human soul can integrate vast, distant, or non-physical realities (e.g., past, future, distant realities in space, etc.):
“If one wanted to portray Heaven, Earth, people, and all things completely in one painting, how could one do it? No matter how much one moved the brush, one would not be able to complete the painting in a single moment. Only the soul principle of human beings can summarize Heaven, Earth, and all things in a single moment, in a single thought, and even walk a path outside the realm of Heaven and Earth”.
This dealing with Chinese terms, such as ‘walking a path outside the realm of Heaven and Earth’ is clearly not in accord with the Chinese traditional habits of thought. Against his hidden Cartesian background, de la Charme (anonymously) implies that if the soul were material, this would not be possible, because it would have limits like any other material thing. As this is not the case, the soul cannot be material, he argues.
Second, thoughts, desires, and abstract concepts lack physical attributes, such as color, size, etc. Those aspects of the activity of the soul cannot be visually depicted. Therefore, the soul, which generates them, must also be non-material. While physical eyes see color and shapes, the soul abstracts meanings from them independently and as a non-material entity: “Recognizing, thinking, desiring—these are the activities of the whole soul. Therefore, the whole soul
is without extension. How can it be compared to extended and divisible matter?” (
Sun 1840, p. 268, tr. and italics DB) The connection to Descartes’s
res cogitans (‘the thinking thing’) and
res extensa (‘the extended thing’ or ‘extended substance’) becomes quite obvious here, too. This idea cannot be found in preceding or contemporary Chinese thought.
Third, “[…] the soul principle in humans can simultaneously apply all mental activity and recognize the warmth and coldness of the entire body” (p. 268, tr. DB). That means that the soul is able to transcend spatial limits or characteristics of very different things at once.
“Let us take the fire that ignites wood as an example; it ignites nearby, but cannot ignite from afar. The human soul, on the other hand, without waiting for an occasion, can imagine a height equal to that of Heaven, a breadth equal to that of Earth, a thousand years of distant past, a future of a hundred generations, and can take in everything that is beyond the mind”.
(p. 267, tr. DB)
The soul can simultaneously perceive opposing sensations or apply diverse mental activities, such as thinking, desiring, and perceiving in a synthetic way, or rather, at the same time. As it does not have the constraints of the extended material world (or, with Descartes, ‘extended substance’ res extensa), it cannot be material, according to de la Charme.
Fourth, it is this immateriality of the ‘soul’ (de la Charme’s Manchu word references are sure banin/sure fayangga) itself that provides the condition of the possibility of abstract reasoning. While material agency is confined to perceiving surface qualities, namely in the sense of physical eyes which are only able to see ink color, the soul can strip away such external properties to comprehend the meaning of the written word: “For example, if we write the word ‘Heaven’ on a piece of paper with red or black ink, the outer eye will only see the red or black color, but the human soul can recognize the original meaning of the word, disregarding the color”. (p. 266, tr. DB). This can be interpreted as an implicit acknowledgment of the previously mentioned rationalist principles of Cartesianism—while it would have to be perceived as an anomalous concept from a contemporaneous Chinese perspective.
The last argument, which also correlates to the former, is that, while every physical object can only represent a fraction of reality in a fixed manner, the soul or human mind is able to operate independently from such restrictions. It is able to integrate ideas, complex thoughts, feelings, and sensations. It operates holistically, and it is able to overcome the restrictions of materiality, namely “[…] to clearly grasp the original concept of something” (p. 267, tr. DB). Therefore, it has to be immaterial. If one subtracts the fact that SLJBH is written in the Manchu language and recognizes de la Charme’s rhetorical method of converting or “repurposing” of Chinese notions in all of these examples, the systematic correlation to Descartes’s rationalism becomes quite clear once more here, in my view.
Furthermore, the other element that comes to the fore and is alluded to in de la Charme’s (anonymous) statements here is that of the Cartesian
res extensa (materiality or physicality in the sense of ‘extended substance’). A more detailed discussion of this aspect has to be kept pending at this stage of the investigation, however, because the aspects regarding de la Charme’s discussion of the ‘soul’ have not yet been exhausted at this point. Further below (see
Section 3.7), I will show that the implicit Cartesian
res extensa can easily be “decoded” from de la Charme’s “Europeanized” concept of
sukdun/qi ‘matter’ (
Materie, von der Gabelentz’s original translation). Before this aspect can be explored further, I would like to prepend an excursus on the topics of accommodation and ‘ancient theology’ (
prisca theologia), as well as a longer section regarding de la Charme’s more kind of allusive, parallel assimilation in the direction of the Manchu shamanic ‘soul conception’ of his audience. This is relevant to grasp de la Charme’s approach more holistically. We will see that he employs the fact that the Manchu ‘soul’ concepts may be considered as showing a stronger affinity to Christian views than Neo-Confucian foundations do, namely at least from a more (deliberately) vague rhetorical perspective (see
Section 3.6).
3.5. Excursus: Jesuit Conversion Strategy and the Background of prisca theologia
In this excursus, I would like to discuss the historical methodological background of de la Charme’s above reference in the first quote of the last section, where he refers to the Chinese “ancients” to criticize the identification of
yangqi 陽氣 with the implicitly Cartesian concept of ‘soul’ (
lingxing 靈性/
sure banin/
sure fayangga) that he actually wants to establish. What is the context for this reference to “the teaching of the ancients, who opposed body and spirit to each other” (
Sun 1840, pp. 262–63, tr. and insertions DB), and how can this reference be further interpreted?
In
Section 3.4 above, I have surmised that de la Charme may have been convinced of the presence of some kind of mind–body dualism in the ancient Chinese classics, two of which he had translated by himself (see
Section 1.1). However, it strikes the eye that he refrains from mentioning references to the passages in the classics that could solidify his argument. He also does not provide any concrete indications as to which conceptions and terms he has in mind here. This
argumentum ad auctoritatem seems strangely isolated and unmotivated; it somehow remains unresolved. It leaves a weak impression at least from the present research perspective, which is narrowed down to Book 1 of
SLJBH. I have already said that, in my view, it serves as an accommodating measure to paint the picture of an alleged, to borrow Slingerland’s and Chudek’s term, “strong folk dualism” (
Slingerland and Chudek 2011, p. 997) of the Chinese ancient past.
In my view, this does not contradict the thesis that de la Charme wants to prepare the contemporaneous Chinese world for the modern Cartesian worldview. The finding rather supports it—raising the question of why de la Charme would “camouflage” his implicitly Cartesian (contemporaneously modern Western) views by means of references to an ancient Chinese background here. I would like to develop at least a brief answer in regard to this before coming to the abovementioned topic of Manchu shamanic views of the ‘soul’ in the subsequent section. I believe this brief excursus is necessary with regard to matters of completeness and in regard to the accumulation of necessary background knowledge, as well as the further contextualization of what has been brought to light so far and in regard to the subsequent trains of thought in this article. In particular, it might also shed a light on de la Charme’s possible deeper convictions.
The first keyword to enter this sub-investigation is ‘accommodation’. Since the days of Alessandro Valignano (1539–1606), Michele Ruggieri (1543–1607), and Matteo Ricci (1552–1610) (cf. also
Hu 2023, p. 2)—arguably the most important founding father of the Jesuit China missions—it was known that “[t]he Chinese would not accept new ideas unless they were proved to derive from ancient and authoritative traditions, which of course had to be at least partially Chinese” (
Mori 2019, p. 188). The reason for this was that “[
i]
nnovation disguised as restoration was the only kind of innovation that the Chinese were ready to accept” (p. 188, italics DB). Ricci understood this and based his entire conversion strategy, that is, to use Wilhelm Schott’s (1802–1889) aforementioned term again, his “
Anbequemungs–Methode” (‘accommodation’; literally: ‘method of conformance’) (1840, p. 45, fn. (*)), on this view (
Mori 2019, p. 188). We have already seen that de la Charme got so good at it that he even, so to speak, “fooled” his earliest German commentators. While Schott at least suspected a Jesuit influence on the alleged native Chinese author (1840, p. 44; see also
Section 2.3), von der Gabelentz did not properly sense the disguised European elements in the original author’s (deliberately anonymized) propositions regarding the ‘soul’ at all (
Sun 1840, p. 253).
30 He obviously was completely taken in by de la Charme’s anonymized and misleading claim that “[
w]
ithout adding anything of my own, I have compiled the words of older and newer [Confucian] philosophers to shed light on the truth” (de la Charme, self-anonymized, quoted in
von der Gabelentz 1840, p. 253, tr., italics and insertions DB).
I have already spoken about the origins of Jesuit accommodation strategies in the principles of (Renaissance) rhetoric (cf. also
Schloesser 2014). At this point, it can be added that the Jesuit approach not only led to Christianity finding its way into China successfully but also, conversely, to a previously unimaginable wealth of knowledge about China and virtually all facets of its culture reaching Europe. It is well known that the research conducted by Jesuit missionaries in China led to an intense debate on the subject of China in Europe. It also triggered important developments in the intellectual and religious history of Europe. Regarding this, Mori emphasizes that the growing influence of deists and libertines around the mid-seventeenth century—and their possible (mis)use of Ricci’s analysis of Confucian natural theology for arguments concerning the preposterousness of established religions and the independence of morality from faith—led to many Catholic thinkers propagating the notion of ‘ancient theology’ (
prisca theologia) (
Mori 2019, p. 190).
Regarding this second keyword, it is important to note that this turning to the concept of prisca theologia also included later Jesuit China missionaries. One might say that their path was therefore also reinforced by the European “echo” of earlier Jesuit China expertise, if I may put it this way. As indicated above, the term prisca theologia can be translated as ‘ancient theology’. The basic meaning of the concept is that there is one true theology, which was originally given by God to all humanity and which still permeates the most ancient elements of all religions. On the basis of this understanding, the danger of the erosion of established religion due to the influence of deists and libertines was countered by expanding Christianity’s foundations into the historical foundations even of very remote spiritual traditions.
Heiser locates the origin of the term
prisca theologia in Renaissance thought, namely in the philosophies of Marsilio Ficino (1433–1499) and Pico della Mirandola (1463–1494) (
Heiser 2011). In my view, the beginnings of this concept may even be sought in preceding discourses. For example, the ideas of Nicolaus de Cusa (1401–1464) should not be ignored in this context. As early as 1430, after his studies in Padua and in his very first published sermon, Cusanus lists divine names in various languages. The young Cusanus is guided by the understanding that “He is named in various human ‘words and speeches’ (
vocibus) in different languages of different peoples, although His name must be unique, supreme, infinite, inexpressible, and beyond recognition” (
Nicolaus de Cusa 1991, p. 4, tr. DB).
31 He then lists several Hebrew names of God,
El,
Adonai,
Jah,
Sabaoth, and
Schaddai, speaking about the
Tetragrammaton and the name
Jehova, which the Latin Bible renders as
Dominus (p. 5).
32 A little further in text, the following passage can be found:
“Similarly, the Greeks have various names for the one God, for example, ‘ischyros’ according to (His divine) power, ‘kyrios’ in the sense of lordship, and, most appropriately, ‘theos’. From this, the Latin ‘deus’ is derived, and in Mongolian ‘birtenger’, which means ‘the one God’, and the German (almanice) ‘ein got’, which is ‘eine gut’. In the Slavic language, He is called ‘boeg’ and ‘olla uhacber’ among the Turks and Saracens, which means ‘the just and great God’, and in Chaldea and India ‘esgi abhir’, which means ‘creator of the universe’.
Thus, a single God receives different attributions by different peoples, and again and again different names, although he must be one in all and for all”.
33
In the subsequent historical developments, the idea of
prisca theologia or ancient theology, which “shines through” here in Cusanus’s early
Sermon I already, was further developed by many Catholic authors especially during the seventeenth century, namely for the previously mentioned reasons. Mori mentions Athanasius Kircher (1602–1680), Paul Beurrier (1608–1696), Luis Thomassin (1619–1695), or Pierre-Daniel Huet (1630–1721)—
emphasizing that all of them had studied the works of the early seventeenth-century China missionaries (
Mori 2019, p. 191). In turn, and as indicated further above, the more evolved idea of
prisca theologia then “proved […] extremely influential
for late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century Jesuits” (p. 191, italics DB).
This is great importance to understand the approach of Alexandre de la Charme more deeply. He experienced his academic upbringing in Europe exactly during this phase. One must assume that he came in touch with the idea of prisca theologia, namely in addition to Cartesian ideas, while still being in Europe.
My assumption is that he makes reference to an alleged ancient Chinese mind–body dualism from two perspectives. First, there is the aspect of intellectual accommodation. To prepare the ground for a later explicit introduction of the Cartesian mind–body dualism in China he has to refer to an ancient source. Secondly, it is very likely that he truly believed the modern Cartesian mind–body dualism to have an ancient root not only in Judeo-Christian scriptures or ancient Greek philosophy but also in ancient Chinese classics. In the sense of ‘ancient theology’ (
prisca theologia), Jesuit China scholars believed that these were influenced by ancient Judeo-Christian lore (cf.
Mori 2019).
In view of this second point, I would like to remind the reader of Schott’s brief overview of Book 3 of
SLJBH: According to Schott, the aim of Book 3 is to convey the view that the true doctrine is as old as creation itself, that there is only one true doctrine, just as there is only one God, and that this doctrine can never perish, only become clouded and distorted (
Schott 1840, p. 45). This is, in a nutshell, an explanation of the concept of
prisca theologia. It is important to see that, in addition to the earlier Jesuit principle of intellectual, spiritual, and social accommodation, de la Charme was also guided by this idea of ancient theology. This is also to say that his rhetoric is not just purposive but truth-oriented. He wants to persuade his Manchu readers, because he truly believes that the soul/mind–body dualism that he is advocating represents an eternal and ubiquitous truth. At this point, one might conclude this little excursus by saying that in de la Charme’s rhetorical practice, expressed in
XLZTG/
SLJBH, the method of (intellectual) accommodation and the idea of ancient theology implicitly converge.
3.6. Allusions to Manchu Shamanic Elements as a Hidden Conversion Strategy?
Before going any further with the analysis of the text, namely regarding the ‘soul’ in relation to ‘matter’, ‘animals’, etc., and hidden Cartesian elements (see
Section 3.7 and
Section 3.8), another aspect or background of de la Charmes’s ‘soul’ concept needs to be discussed. It is related to the above topic of accommodation strategies and the idea of
prisca theologia in the preceding excursus but points in a rather unexplored and even unexpected direction. As mentioned at the beginning of the Introduction (see
Section 1), it is highly unusual and remarkable that an anonymized Jesuit China scholar at least implicitly adapts and assimilates into the conceptual aspects of Manchu shamanism itself, namely in addition to the usual reference to Confucian thought culture and spirituality—and, moreover, in one and the same work. In my view, this extends the previous Jesuit approach to adaptation and assimilation into China’s traditions of thought with regard to the inherent diversity of the Qing court and the contemporary program to strengthen Manchu shamanism in the higher and lower echelons of the Manchu social system (see also below).
De la Charme’s outreach toward Manchu shamanism, which is reconstructed here in brief and in view of Book 1 of
SLJBH, is to be distinguished from a few other attempts of Jesuit scholars to merely translate Christian literature into Manchu (cf.
Walravens 2015). Such works basically relate to a time of rather uninhibited proselytizing activities before an imperial ban on Christian teachings had come into effect. We have seen that, apart from being anonymized,
XLZTG/
SLJBH abstains from mentioning any Christian concepts and ideas directly. My thesis is that de la Charme rather uses some more affine elements in the Manchu worldview to covertly criticize and thereby reinterpret and redirect (Han) Chinese Neo-Confucian terms into the direction of his “camouflaged” Cartesian position. In my view,
SLJBH presents a unique case, because de la Charme extends the usual reference to early (Han) Chinese authorities (“the ancients”), which echoes the contemporary view of
prisca theologia, to the much less history-bound, new authority of Manchu shamanism. It is less history-bound because it has its roots in a semi-nomadic context (see also below), which only had adapted the feature of textuality at the beginning of the 17th century. One can only speculate, of course, whether de la Charme might have already envisioned a path to a Chinese modernity here that combines the much more fluid—and more malleable—characteristics of Manchu shamanism with Cartesian philosophical and scientific foundations, preparing future attempts at realizing the well-known Jesuit strategy of top–down conversion under the background of an advancing Manchu shamanic empire. Given the fact that the Jesuit libraries in Beijing had previously functioned as a key medium for Western learning and cultural exchange that attracted Chinese literati to Western knowledge and religion (
Golvers 2015), such an incentive to introduce a Cartesian (Christian) worldview by alluding to Manchu elements to alter Neo-Confucian views (which can clearly be derived from Book 1 of
SLJBH here) seems not far-fetched, in my view. It might also be worth noting with Wiest that, upon returning to Qing dynasty China in the middle of the 19th century, the leadership of the reborn Jesuit order reflected the same resolve “to emulate the work begun by Ricci and to convert China from the top down” (
Wiest 2001, p. 44).
The current subtopic also sheds more light on the possible causes for Hans Conon von der Gabelentz’s previously discussed wrong categorization of
SLJBH (
Sun 1753d) as the work of an anonymous native Chinese author. To explain the situation, it is not sufficient to take into account that the German understanding of Chinese thought cultures and systems of belief was still in its infancy and that von der Gabelentz could not read Chinese characters (see
Section 2.2). Another important aspect is that he must also have been very
familiar with Manchu texts. Von der Gabelentz counts as the most renowned Manchu expert of his time. This means that not only did he always read original Chinese texts through the lens of Manchu translations but also that he may have implicitly or explicitly internalized elements of Manchu shamanism (Manchu folk religion)—namely
maybe even without being fully aware of the difference between Han Chinese and Manchu traditions, or rather, the independent cultural backgrounds of some of the Manchu vocabulary. We will see that the Manchu background, at least in the loose or superficial sense, has more affinities with the mind–body dichotomy in Cartesian thought. One also has to take into consideration that the contemporary, “short-sighted” view of the German Manchu translators of the 19th century was that the Manchu were only
precise translators, but did not add elements of their own culture or views to the literature.
34 Thus, it is possible that von der Gabelentz was not aware that certain terms and contents presented in
SLJBH actually alluded to the dimension of a
genuine Manchu religious and philosophical worldview (at least in a kind of implicit or deliberately vague and allusive double perspective). He might have thought that the terms in use represented merely precise translations for ancient and original (Han) Chinese concepts, instead of the actual alterations or allusions towards other contexts covertly introduced by de la Charme on this occasion. Maybe this is the reason why von der Gabelentz was not able to suspect the implicit, yet otherwise rather obvious, Western background of the text from his own angle back in 1840.
In my opinion, de la Charme—perhaps, as speculated by
Crowther (
2021, p. 63), with the help of an unnamed additional Manchu collaborator
35—deliberately tried to align the hidden attempt to introduce modern Western elements of thought and spirituality in the Manchu version with Manchu shamanism (Manchu folk religion). This is to say that his method is not that of precise and explicit comparison but a rhetorical one of
deliberately vague and implicit alignment. It means that de la Charme did not merely apply the abovementioned common method of accommodation (Schott:
Anbequehmungs-Methode ‘method of conformance’) by referring to the Confucian classics to criticize the dominant views of Neo-Confucian
Lixue 理學. In addition, and against the Manchu linguistic background of
SLJBH, he also superimposed this perspective with allusions to the original shamanic religion of the ruling Manchu elites of the time.
In this context, it is important to know that in the meetings of the Manchu intellectual elite circles of the time, “[t]he questions of history, philosophy, religion
and especially shamanism and policy [were] the most interesting matters to discuss” (
Shirokogoroff 1924, p. 147, italics and insertions DB). As “[…] Manchu society [was] a very select one” (p. 147, insertion DB), the importance of influencing its internal contemporary discourses could, of course,
not be underestimated by contemporary Jesuit China missionaries. The Manchu religion had already undergone a historical process of abstraction and reflection that had already started in the pre-conquest period and against the background of an ongoing suppression of so-called wild shamanism due to Nurhaci’s
![Religions 16 00891 i010]()
/努爾哈赤 (1559–1626) and Hong Taiji’s
![Religions 16 00891 i011]()
/皇太極 (1592–1643) attempts “to absorb the role of shaman into their own position as khan” (
Garrett 2020, p. 89). The inherent developmental trait of continued persecution of sorcerers by the Qing and the rise of the “modern” institutions of domestic shamanism and temple shamanism (e.g.,
Stary 2009) in contemporary Qing China should have resonated with de la Charme’s Christian views in general. It is therefore not unreasonable to assume that this environment may have been perceived as an inviting background for future missionary work especially among the political elites. In addition, it is possible that de la Charme speculated about ancient origins of the Manchu soul concept in the sense of
prisca theologia as well. In this case, his “triangulation” and rhetorical resolution of Manchu and Confucian views toward the implicitly Cartesian dualistic position would imply that he perceived his task as one of leading his readers back from the position of beliefs that had been corrupted in the course of history to the one truth that all belief systems share from the earliest beginnings.
Furthermore, it is also important to consider, as Shirokogoroff notes in a generalizing sense, that the Tungusic peoples (of which the Manchu are a subgroup) “[…] are not ‘conservative’ at all and if you were to bring them some new fact or mere theories they would accept them on condition that the new theories better suit the existing complex and explain some newly perceived facts” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 53).
In particular view of Qing dynasty China, one might assume that this “peculiarity of the Tungus[—]who do not particularly differ from other ethnical groups who are under favourable conditions […] of their being able to observe variations of natural phenomena” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 54, insertion DB)—might have been less “fluid” already. The Manchu were already depending on written (Manchu) documents more than their Tungusic relatives. And on top of that, they had adopted the Chinese language and writing system for several generations already. In terms of religion, the Manchu ruling elites and the Eight Banners had experienced the abovesaid interior shift from wild shamanism to what is called domestic shamanism here (cf. also
Jiang 2018). On the other hand, however, the ease with which the Manchu adopted Chinese cultural patterns once they had conquered China is consistent with the character trait described by Shirokogoroff. Thus, one might assume that the above general characterization of openness and fluidity of viewpoints still applies at least to a certain diminished extent, namely in the sense that “[…] the Tungus may rather easily accept new theories professed by the missionaries and foreigners in general, and they would do it with readiness if new theories bring a new light to the facts observed” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 54). In terms of such cultural “plasticity”,
Jiang (
2018) has also shown that the introduction of the
Imperially Commissioned Manchu Rites for Sacrifices to the Spirits and to Heaven (also:
Manchu Rites) (
Hesei toktobuha manjusai wecere metere kooli bithe ![Religions 16 00891 i012]()
, 1747/
Qinding Manzhou jishen jitian dianli 钦定满洲祭神祭天典礼, 1780) did not (as earlier assumed) lead to a stiff standardization of rituals among the Manchu clans.
In my view, it is reasonable to assume that de la Charme was aware of this relative “plasticity” of Manchu spirituality and the element of intellectual curiosity in view of the Manchu elite. In passing, I would also like to mention that this trait of plasticity and malleableness is no exceptional case in the history of East Asian shamanic cultures. Many of these “paradoxically adapted to a diffusion model, integrating its ethos into other religions, including Christianity” (
Li 2025, p. 1). I assume this characteristic trait (i.e., relative developmental “plasticity”) to be the major center of attraction behind de la Charme’s motivation to produce the Manchu
SLJBH (
Sun 1753d).
36In addition to the factor of plasticity, one has to remember what has already been said in regard to similarities of traditional elements of the complex of Manchu religious worldview(s) with basic elements of the Christian, or rather, Christian–Cartesian perspective. Shirokogoroff was the first to realize that “the Tungus point of view [which includes the worldview of Manchu shamanism]
may be compared with that of European dualistic complex which opposes the ‘matter’ to the ‘spirit’ […, although] there are some essential differences, too”. (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 50, insertions and italics DB). De Harlez already argues that “[t]he immortality of the soul was certainly accepted among these people [the Manchu]” (
de Harlez 1887, p. 58, tr. DB). Against this background, it becomes more plausible that Alexandre de la Charme (Sun Zhang) used terms related to the traditional Manchu shamanic worldview in order to influence Manchu elites in a way that
implicitly emphasized systemic resonances between European and Manchu religious traditions. In view of the general aim of conversion, it would make all the sense in the world if de la Charme deliberately maxed out his options for an
implicit introduction—or rather, for the preparation of a later, explicit introduction—of Western thought culture and spirituality in this way
as far as he could under the given adverse conditions (see
Section 1.1 and
Section 1.2). As previously mentioned, my guess is that the intention behind the production of the Manchu version
SLJBH was to indirectly
sow the seeds for a modern reinterpretation of Manchu elements—as well as the preparation for the connection of these elements with the Catholic Christian religion and European philosophy and science under more fruitful future conditions.
The said marginalization of the original wild shamanism early on in the history of the Manchu “shamanic empire” (
Garrett 2020) of the Qing went hand in hand with further development and consolidation of the more sublimated practices of Manchu domestic and temple shamanism. Against this background, it must be emphasized that the shamanism of the Qing cannot be reduced to trance elements (e.g.,
Eliade 1975). On the contrary, non-trance-related ritual practices and religious ideas in clan shamanism became the major characteristic (
Qu 2023, p. 2; see also
Pozzi 1992). In these respects, the Manchu shamanic worldview was still very relevant among the ruler and clans of the Qing shamanic empire in the mid-eighteenth century (cf. also
Jiang 2022) when
SLJBH was published. Due to the introduction of the abovesaid
Manchu Rites in 1747, Manchu shamanism even experienced a sort of renaissance.
SLJBH was published in this phase, when the political relevance of Manchu shamanism also became undeniable again; “The engagement of Manchu shamanism with politics is also evidently reflected by the Code [
Manchu Rites] [that had been] commissioned by Emperor Qianlong 乾隆 (1711–1799; r. 1736–1795) and [was] completed in 1747” (
Qu 2023, p. 7, insertion DB; cf. also the whole article; cf. also
Jiang 2018). The obvious importance of the Manchu shamanic element for the (then inhibited) Jesuit mission adds another hermeneutical layer to the complexity of aspects that have to be noted in the context of the present study.
Therefore, to further strengthen the above points that I have made so far, a short survey of the general background of the Manchu worldview cannot be circumvented at this point. To keep it on par with the general topic of the present investigation, it is developed here by starting from the keywords that Hans Conon von der Gabelentz provides in the short preface (
von der Gabelentz 1840) to his translation of
SLJBH, Book 1:
“The soul of a human being, however, is considered to be completely immaterial. In contrast to the body, arbun, it is called spirit, enduri; in contrast to the corporeal being, yali beye, it is called the ensouled principle of life [beseeltes Lebensprincip], sure fayangga; in contrast to the transitory and mortal being, it is called the eternal nature, [enteheme] banin; in contrast to the lower being, adshige beye, it is called the higher being, amba beye”.
As previously stated, von der Gabelentz most likely considered the Manchu terms to be merely translation terms, that is, terms that do
not implicitly point to another cultural horizon of their own (cf. also
von der Gabelentz 1840, p. 251; see also endnote 34 in the current text, the remarks by his son Georg). It has to be assumed that this is the reason why he thought
SLJBH represented genuine and unaltered contents and positions of a Chinese tradition in the philosophy of nature. The problem is, however, that these further specifications or “perspectives” of the ‘soul’, which enrich and expand de la Charme’s Manchu soul conceptuality beyond the previously mentioned terms
sure banin ![Religions 16 00891 i007]()
and
sure fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i009]()
seem to be neither much congruent with ancient Chinese terms (see also
Section 3.3) nor with Neo-Confucian ones. They point in the direction of Manchu shamanism itself.
Von der Gabelentz’s “accidental” overview of some elements of the Manchu soul conceptuality has to be read alongside further passages in his translation
Sing-li-tchin-thsiouan die wahrhafte Darstellung der Naturphilosophie (erster Theil) (
Sun 1840). Passages like the following bring to light further implicitly Manchu shamanic elements in de la Charme’s work:
“The elder philosopher says: Master, you must know that the light and luminosity of the soul and the light and luminosity of matter are completely different in their nature. For the soul has light and luminosity, and the sun and snow also have light and luminosity. But the light and luminosity of the soul are of a spiritual nature, while those of the sun and snow are of a material nature. That of the soul is animated, that of the sun and snow is lifeless. These two things must not be confused with each other. The light and splendor of the soul move without movement, rest without rest. If it were matter, how could this be the case?”
This is clearly
not in the Neo-Confucian tradition of the time. Instead, this passage creates a sort of implicit “double resonance” with Manchu shamanism—which is not explicitly mentioned, but alluded to—and
implicit Cartesian philosophical, respectively, Christian religious elements. For instance, the distinction between the light received by the intellect and light received by the eyes is a well-established Platonic and Neoplatonic philosophical topic (e.g.,
Allen 1995, pp. 171–82, etc.). Regarding the above Manchu conceptual elements of the ‘soul’ conceptuality, as well as the subsequent quote from the translation, one must first know that the Manchu shamanic soul concepts were supported by the idea that the soul could
ecstatically detach itself from earthly light (“flight of the soul”) (e.g.,
Zhang 2018;
Song 1998, p. 79). De la Charme mixes this allusion to Manchu shamanic views with the Cartesian concept of a lifeless and mechanistic outside world (the lifeless, material nature of snow and the sun matches Descartes’s
res extensa; see also
Section 3.7).
This implies
a reference to transcendence which, at least on the surface, has a greater affinity to Christian ideas than the foundations of Neo-Confucian worldviews (cf. also
Bartosch 2022, p. 402; see also, above, the related quotation from
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 50).
37 The difference between the two realms (earthly and transcendent) is clearly represented in the conceptual perspectives of ‘soul’ mentioned by von der Gabelentz: The word
arbun ![Religions 16 00891 i014]()
can mean ‘body’ in the sense of ‘shape’, ‘form’, ‘appearance’, etc. (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 13; cf. also
Norman 2013, p. 21), while
yali ![Religions 16 00891 i013]()
literally means ‘flesh’ (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 224; cf. also
Norman 1978, p. 312). This stands in contrast to
enduri ![Religions 16 00891 i015]()
, “
Geist;
geisterhaft” (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 55, italics DB), that is, ‘spirit’, ‘ghost’, and ‘ghostly’, and
sure fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i009]()
(von der Gabelentz:
beseeltes Lebensprinzip ‘ensouled principle of life’), which could also be translated as ‘the intelligence/reason of (the spirit of) life’ (pp. 62, 185). According to
Norman (
2013),
enduri can also mean “spirit, god, deity” (p. 96), while
enduri fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i016]()
means “soul, divine spirit” (p. 96).
The meaning of
sure fayangga turns out to be slightly different from that of the previously mentioned term
sure banin (literally: ‘intelligence/reason of nature’), which von der Gabelentz translates as
Seele (‘soul’). Another slightly shifted meaning is brought into play by the use of the term
enteheme banin ![Religions 16 00891 i017]()
in von der Gabelentz’s list of ‘soul’ terms (who in 1840 used ‘
entecheme’ to transliterate the word).
Enteheme can mean: ‘main virtue’ (
Haupttugend), ‘law’, ‘order’; ‘duration’; ‘perpetual’, ‘long’, ‘eternal’, ‘consistently’, etc. (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 55; cf. also
Norman 2013, p. 97). The Manchu word
amba literally means ‘big’ or ‘great’, or ‘grown-up’, and it can mean ‘mainly’ (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 9).
The word
fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i008]()
in
sure fayangga (von der Gabelentz:
Lebensprinzip ‘principle of life’), which is here the counter term to
yali beye ![Religions 16 00891 i018]()
, deserves some more consideration. As discussed in
Section 3.3., the word
fayangga was used in the sense of traditional Manchu concepts of ‘soul’, but also differently, namely as a translation term for the “
yang soul” (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 109, italics DB), that is, the Chinese concept of
hun 魂. I would like to remind the reader that de la Charme clearly distinguishes the soul from “earthly light” and
yang! That means, it is not used in the original sense of the Chinese term
hun here but in a kind of “double allusion” to original Manchu and European/Cartesian concepts of the soul.
This can be explored further. What is the broader background of the contemporary Manchu conceptuality that “shines through” here in von der Gabelentz’s remarks and translation?
More general information about the clear separation of a transcendent, non-corporeal realm of the Manchu ‘soul’ from a “lower” level of embodiment and physicality can be derived from a pioneering study “by the Russian scholar Sergei Mikhailovich Shirokogoroff [(1887–1939), namely from his] [...] monograph
Psychomental Complex of the Tungus (1935) [
which]
still remains a great influence on the field of Manchu shamanism study in China [and beyond China] today” (
Qu 2023, p. 2, insertions and italics DB). In my view, Shirokogoroff’s work is generally helpful to learn about, or rather, to generate a context-related understanding for
the actual differences between possible European (Christian–Cartesian, etc.) and Manchu concepts of the ‘soul’, etc.: “According to the Manchus the human being consists of the material element and elements which cannot be seen, but which make the man live and act as man does. These elements are called [
fayangga …], which may be translated as ‘soul’” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52). We can take this greater general affinity with de la Charme’s Cartesian allusions regarding ‘soul’ (see
Section 3.4) as a starting point to also investigate the actual differences in this regard. I hasten to mention again that such a comparative distinction is, of course, not in the (more rhetorical) intention of de la Charme himself, but it is necessary for us to see more clearly what he is doing and what he is working with, and in what way, so to speak.
This also leads back to the question of comparative methodology, and where the difference lies between de la Charme’s more “rhetorical” approach and modern methodologies in comparative philosophy/religion. To be able to differentiate here, we first have to understand both approaches’ point of conversion. I believe, from a theoretical meta perspective, such a point of conversion can be derived in the context of Charles Sanders Peirce’s (1839–1914) philosophical concept of logical indeterminacy or vagueness. This can be applied here in the sense that all basic comparative categories have to
“[…] remain vague and logically indeterminate with respect to what is to be defined or specified by them. ‘Logical indeterminacy’––a term first analyzed by Charles S. Peirce in the context of comparative sciences––means that a comparative category can admit incompatible applications in comparisons on an equal footing, because the argumentation-theoretical law of non-contradiction does not apply to what remains ‘logically indeterminate’”.
Both de la Charme’s and the modern comparative approach in philosophy work with this element of vagueness. The difference is that de la Charme does not dissolve this vagueness in an explicit and differentiating analysis but rhetorically employs the vagueness to craft a particular outcome in the direction of which he wants to persuade the reader. To understand his method of accommodation, we have to analyze the Manchu conceptuality of the soul from a modern comparative perspective in the following. In this context, the starting point of the comparative category ‘soul’ has to be unfolded in a specifying way. Put differently, de la Charme’s methodological ambiguity has to give way to clarity with regard to the differences at this point.
I argue that de la Charme’s vague rhetorical allusion to the mind–body separation in the Manchu context—which he basically applies to develop his “Sino-Cartesian” foundations—does not survive closer scrutiny from an actual comparative perspective. In his remarks regarding the original Manchu concept of the ‘soul(s)’, Shirokogoroff stresses that what is actually meant by
fayangga ![Religions 16 00891 i008]()
is
composed of three elements:
“(1) […] the [‘first’ or] ‘true soul’ [Shirokogoroff’s transliteration: unengi fajanga], as the Manchus understand it, which is considered as a principal component […]; (2) […] the ‘soul which precedes’ [S.’s translit.: čargi fajanga] which is near the first […]; (3) the ‘external soul’ [S.’ translit.: olorgi fojeŋo]. These three elements are not understood by the Manchus as independent one of another, but according to their explanation the three-fold aspect of the soul is the same as that of a finger which [in analogy] has nail, bones, and ‘meat’”.
This is to say that the
threefoldness of the soul38 represents a living unity at the same time. While the first soul “remains stationary” (p. 135), the second and the third “are moving [within the body] so that the [former] is always ahead of the [latter] and they are always found separated […]. They must not hinder their respective movements” (p. 135, insertions DB).
Furthermore, there is the life element of
ergen ![Religions 16 00891 i019]()
, namely the breathing or breath,
“[… which] is received from the father […, while the] three-fold soul is given by the spirit
oŋos’
i mama [
omosimama ![Religions 16 00891 i020]()
]. The first soul is the true soul which cannot leave the body without causing death. The second soul may temporarily leave the body which results in dreams and loss of consciousness. The third soul may also leave temporarily without causing death. The third soul returns to the spirit of the lower world [or netherworld]
ilmunxan and […] the first [and the] second soul return […] to
oŋos’
i mama”.
Shirokogoroff states that the
first or “true soul” may be compared with ‘consciousness’ and ‘self-cognition’ (1935, p. 52). It would, in fact, mean the closest approximation to de la Charme’s implicit Cartesian allusions in this context (see
Section 3.4). However, in the original Manchu horizon, this first or true soul does not stand in parallel and is separated from a realm in analogy to Descartes’s
res extensa (see
Section 3.4,
Section 3.7 and
Section 3.8). Moreover, although the first soul represents consciousness and self-cognition, it is not the one soul aspect (of three) that can leave the body in the sense of the shamanic flight of the soul that transcends earthly light (see further above) and the related realm of the material world. The total disconnection of the
first soul (“consciousness”) from the body would mean instant death. Although the Manchu ‘first soul’ is not the living body (which is mainly governed in its functions by the second soul), it is inseparably connected to it. Put differently, in contrast to the Cartesian
res cogitans, it is not a totally separate “thing” from the body. Moreover, while Descartes attributes the human thought processes completely to the non-extended domain of the
res cogitans and therefore to ‘soul/mind’ in
his particular sense, for the Manchus, “[h]owever, the ‘thought is not the same as ‘true [or first] soul’, for ‘thought’—[
gunin ![Religions 16 00891 i021]()
]—is a result of the activity of all [three] ‘souls’ which is produced in the heart and is in some relation to the liver” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52, insertions DB). Such a connection of thought to the body would be completely out of the question from a Cartesian point of view.
It is very likely that de la Charme was aware of “[t]he controversy among the Manchus […] about the question whether the first soul exists in animals or not” (p. 52, insertions DB). We will see that de la Charme exactly tackles
and exploits this animal-related question in relation to his own (rhetorical) discourse on the ‘soul’ in
SLJBH. From his quasi-Cartesian perspective, he strengthens the latter position. By using the aforementioned and other Manchu shamanic terms, he thereby also tries to establish another quasi-Cartesian position that allows for a definition of
exclusively human forms and patterns of thought and thought generation that is to be distinguished from animal cognition (see
Section 3.8).
“According to some Manchus, the second soul may be identified with the power of continuation of the species, i.e., it is a biological power of continuity which is characteristic of the [sic!] man and all animals, but which, according to the Manchus is lacking in plants. The ‘second’ soul seems to be also responsible for all physiological functions of a higher order”.
In
Section 3.8, we will see that in de la Charme’s implicitly Cartesian worldview (see
Section 3.4,
Section 3.7 and
Section 3.8), animals do not have a soul, but only a “lower”,
material “life principle [that] is only of a [determined] cognitive nature” (
Sun 1840, p. 272, tr. and insertions DB; see for the full quote in
Section 3.8). Although de la Charme explicitly refers to the traditional (Han) Chinese concept
li 理 here (Manchu translation term:
giyan ![Religions 16 00891 i005]()
), which he transplants into the realm of his quasi-Cartesian concept of the material domain (see below,
Section 3.7, for more), this also
implicitly and vaguely resonates with the traditional Manchu view of the “biological” nature of the second soul at the same time. If de la Charme would have had the opportunity to openly introduce and discuss his own contemporary European worldview directly in the exclusive and rather closed (!) philosophical and religious contexts of the Manchu elite circles—namely without the earlier-mentioned restrictions that resulted from the Rites Controversy—
he surely could have worked with this idea in the Manchu horizon in an intellectually and spiritually accommodating manner. It might be even safe to say that he is at least already playing with it in Book 1 of
SLJBH in an allusive manner.
On the other hand, against the background of his own worldview and philosophical and religious convictions as a Christian, he would have to oppose the Manchu view that the second soul returns to
omosimama after death “for being given to other children” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52), in the event of such an imagined, open contemporary discussion. Another Manchu view that is incommensurable with his veiled Catholic and Cartesian model of the soul is that of
the return of the third soul to a netherworld from where it can be reborn even into animals, etc. (see further below, my contextualizing remarks regarding the term
endurin). Metempsychosis is, of course, a taboo topic from a contemporaneous Catholic Christian point of view.
One might raise the question whether the idea of a threefoldness of
fayangga—first limited by means of time (see third-to-the-last indented quote: “precedes”) and then in space (“external”), namely in the sense of the “idea of a complex soul” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52)—is also somehow related to the various compound expressions that contain the word
beye ![Religions 16 00891 i022]()
in von der Gabelentz list of antagonistic terms further above:
yali beye,
adshige beye, and
amba beye. The word
beye can refer to the meaning of “
Körper,
Person,
Wesen,
selbst, […]” (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 20), that is ‘body’, ‘person’, ‘essence’, ‘self’ (cf. also
Norman 2013, p. 35). It seems that it can refer to the
body “locality” or the “owner (placing) of the body” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 136), or to the immediate social (historical) and natural (cosmic) environment of the
individual person in relation to or in inseparable correlation to
him/herself—or to the higher “
self”, namely the higher being, the “
essence” that sustains the (biographical) person itself, the
amba beye. Of course, this should be made the topic of further debate among the specialists in the field (see also
Section 3.9). Unfortunately, von der Gabelentz himself did not provide any further comments on this in the preface to his translation.
Furthermore, and against the background of Shirokogoroff’s work, future investigation should clarify if the Manchu term
beye is etymologically related to the use of various words in other Tungusic languages, such as “
buya (
buga,
boya,
boga) [which are] known [… to stand for] the greatest, omnipotent, ever-existing, all-knowing
being, which is responsible for the existence and regulation of life, who directs the whole world” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 122, last italics DB), As “a highest being […] it
is not anthropomorphic and […]
is not one of the spirits […]. The Tungus have no picture, or idea of its appearance. According e.g., to the Biriarčen [another Tungusic people] the
buya regulates the life of man and animals” (pp. 122–23, insertion DB). A starting point could be that the same Tungusic languages word variations were also used to refer to meanings of “‘world’, ‘earth’ and ‘locality’ (i.e., the world [or ‘locality’] that the speaker knows)” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 122, insertion in square brackets DB). One of the open questions would be (see also
Section 3.9) the following: is this range of meanings in the contexts of these word usages related to conceptions of a threefold soul among the Tungus?
Moreover, at least on the surface, the understanding of
buya, etc., as non-anthropomorphic, highest being—“which is not of the same every-day-importance [sic!] as the spirits […] which are subject to him on the same footing as human beings and animals, as well as ‘inanimate’ nature” (p. 122)—also seems to partly resonate more with the side of Christian theology in the implicit vision of de la Charme. He also discusses the concept of a creator god in Book 2 of
Sing lii jen ciyan bithei hešen (
Sun 1753d). Of course, this is not part of the present investigation, but de la Charme’s Manchu discussion in Book 2 could be investigated in future research attempts in this direction, namely in particular also against the background of the abovesaid broader semantic field. All of these possible research areas would necessitate a closer collaboration between the field of transcultural-comparative philosophy/religion and Manchu studies (see also
Section 3.9). They cannot be approached any further in the present context.
Another concept that still should be noted here in contrast to the abovementioned semantic field is
abkai enduri ![Religions 16 00891 i023]()
(
tianshen 天神) (Shirokogoroff:
apkai enduri). In contrast to the non-anthropomorphic
buya (
buga,
boya,
boga), this principal Manchu spirit of the world is “very powerful, […] a spirit supplied with all
human characteristics [… and] treated
as a human being” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 123, italics and insertions DB)—but in the sense that he can be addressed personally.
Regarding von der Gabelentz’s use of the word
enduri in his list of terms further above, one can also refer to the following information: In a certain derived analogy to the anthropomorphic
abkai enduri maybe, the third (like the first) soul segment “possesses a very important peculiarity, namely it represents in its exteriorated form all parts of the body” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 136). The third soul “which has passed several times through people [in the sense of metempsychosis of this soul segment], may also
remain as
endur’
i [
endurin ![Religions 16 00891 i024]()
]” (p. 142, insertion and second-last italics DB), that is to say, it may overcome the aspect of transmigration and become “immortal”. Furthermore, the word
enduri is also used to designate lesser spirits, including respective specifying terms. Shirokogoroff remarks that
“[i]t is difficult to give an English translation of this term,—it is referred to the high spirits endur’i, to the souls which do not migrate from one animal to another but remain free, to the souls of emperors; yet it may be referred to the monks, to wise, clever people, and so on. Perhaps it may be translated ‘saint, immortal, wise’”.
(1935, p. 143)
These explanations should be sufficient to show some possible touch points but also basic deviations from the context of de la Charme’s allusions to contemporary European/Christian/Cartesian concepts of the ‘soul’. While using respective Manchu terms, de la Charme alludes to the Manchu shamanic horizon but at the same time obviously avoids, or rather, has to avoid the idea of a threefold soul or that of the spirits of clan ancestors (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 143), etc. In this way, he implicitly but clearly bends the assumptions in the Manchu shamanic worldview in the direction of a contemporary European and Christian foundation—without directly mentioning any Christian terms and by only alluding to the Manchu worldview through his particular choice and yet deliberately vague, rhetorical conceptual reinterpretation in his way of using these Manchu expressions.
3.7. Cartesian Ideas II: De la Charmes’s ‘Matter’ as Cartesian res extensa in Chinese Terms
A similar pattern of
implicit accommodation can be seen in de la Charme’s comments regarding
sukdun ![Religions 16 00891 i004]()
, which is also the Manchu translation term for Chinese
qi 氣 (cf. also
Liu et al. 1988, p. 347). Previously in this article, I have also used Needham’s translation term ‘matter-energy’ to refer to this term. It is actually quite difficult to translate, which is why many commentators also choose to leave it untranslated. Von der Gabelentz—albeit being aware that it is actually and more literally “[
der]
Hauch” (
von der Gabelentz 1840, p. 251, italics DB), which is close to the meaning of ‘breath of air’—nevertheless simply translates
sukdun as
Materie (‘matter’) (p. 251) (see also further above). In von der Gabelentz’s translation
Sing-li-tchin-thsiouan die wahre Darstellung der Naturphilosophie (erster Theil) (
Sun 1840), one can find a noteworthy statement by “philosopher A”, which opposes the usual premodern Chinese conceptions of
qi in general and, more in particular, basic ideas of Zhu Xi’s philosophy as well. Although de la Charme plays with the soul-versus-matter parallel in the direction of Manchu shamanism, too, he thereby points out the hidden Cartesian foundations of his own (anonymized) thoughts once again. Apart from what has been said about de la Charme’s, ancient Chinese, and Manchu shamanic ‘soul’ concepts, this provides us with an opportunity to probe his train of thought, also with regard to the other pillar of Descartes’s dualism, namely his concept of the ‘extended thing’ (
res extensa)—the realm of physical reality.
Regarding Manchu shamanism and possible original meanings of
sukdun, it has to be noted that Shirokogoroff has emphasized that Tungusic peoples (including the Manchu) see all things as consisting of (a)
material substance (Shirokogoroff: “matter”) and (b)
form-carrying spiritual matter (Shirokogoroff: “animus”), respectively. Although the Tungusic languages have no general term for either, these
implicit general ideas shine through the references by means of more specific terms, such as ‘stone’, ‘wood’, ‘iron’, etc. (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 50). If a wooden object is broken, it loses something and becomes simple material substance—“wood matter”; “[t]his ‘something’ is the immaterial substance which is liberated when the piece is broken. This is the
animus” (p. 50), namely in the sense of the continuation of the object in the form of spiritual matter.
In comparison to this, de la Charme offers a
new concept of
sukdun that is only partly congruent with traditional Manchu notions and, on the other hand, Chinese notions of the correlation of
qi and
li 理. In fact, de la Charme endorses the very basic ideas of a contemporaneous European concept of matter, namely one that resonates strongly with Descartes’s
res extensa. This fact is not even contradicted by the self-anonymized author’s
accommodating allusion that “[a]ll of this is written in the Five Jings [
wujing 五經]; [and] since their epiphany [
Offenbarung] is so clear there can be no doubt about it” (
Sun 1840, p. 255). Aside from the fact that this also implicitly alludes to the aspect of revealed religion and can also be read as an obeisance to the tradition of the
prisca theologia itself (see
Section 3.5), it actually does not add much to change the general impression in regard to the hidden Cartesian basis of this dialogue:
“The elder philosopher [A] says: the soul of man is definitely not matter; its essence is spiritual [ein geistiges Wesen]. It passes through all changes of things and is self-determined. Matter has a form, but since it is lifeless, it cannot be animate. An animate being and a lifeless thing [eine leblose Sache] are different things; they cannot be considered completely the same”
In almost all pre-modern Chinese notions of
qi 氣, ‘matter-energy’, or rather, with von der Gabelentz, ‘matter’ (
Materie), is seen as the inseparable foundation of a
living universe, that is, including humans, ‘Heaven–Earth and the ten thousand (living) things’ (
tian–di wanwu 天地萬物) (see also
Bartosch 2023, pp. 145–49). Against this original backdrop,
qi cannot be considered “lifeless”. On the contrary, it is also seen as the
precondition of all life, constantly emerging in the individual and collectively living forms of the changing (
yin–yang) patterns of the living universal system as a whole.
To provide further support for this argument, one might point to ancient statements which at first glance seem close to philosopher A’s claim. Even in such cases, closer looks quickly reveal the fact that there is no match to be found with regard to
de la Charme’s view of ‘matter’. For instance, Xunzi 荀子 (c.310–after 238 BCE) expressed the view that “water and fire have
qi, but no life; grasses and trees have life, but no ‘apprehension’ (
zhi 知); birds and beasts have apprehension but no righteousness; man has
qi, has life, has apprehension, and is complete [because he] has righteousness”
39 (
Xunzi, n.d., “Wangzhi 王制”, paragraph 19, tr. DB). Even in this perspective, which at first glance may seem closer to de la Charme’s statement,
qi is not opposed to ‘life’. It is not presented as the antipode to ‘life’ (
sheng 生). Xunzi’s ‘no life’
does not mean ‘lifelessness’ in de la Charme’s implicitly mechanistic and Cartesian sense. It simply means that
qi does not ‘reproduce’ (also
sheng 生) like vegetable and animal organisms. That it is not such an organic being does not simply mean that it is lifeless,
extended “stuff” in the sense of philosopher A’s several statements in this direction in
SLJBH, Book 1 (
Sun 1840, pp. 255–57). On the contrary, the
qi of classical Chinese thought (Confucian and Daoist and other ancient schools) and Neo-Confucian philosophies is
in all ‘life’, that is,
as a fundamental precondition or foundation of all living processes of a life-emerging, living universe.
Thus,
at the very least, and also in the case of Xunzi, for example, one has to ascribe to
qi the status of some kind of universal and cosmic “pre-life”, to borrow and transpose a term by the late John B. Cobb, Jr. (
Cobb 2023, p. 11) (one of the most important process philosophers and process theologians of the last seven decades), into the present topical realm. The underlying worldview on the Chinese side is not mechanistic. It does not know the concept of inanimate matter, “lifeless stuff”. What is more, and in line with the previous point, Xunzi clearly identifies
qi with the
vital forces of the body in another passage! He states that “blood
qi and muscular strength decline [with age], but wisdom, reflection, and judgment (making the right choices) do not decline”
40 (
Xunzi, n.d., “Zhenglun 正論”, paragraph 21, tr. DB). Here,
qi is not even considered as a sort of “pre-life” (in the sense of that which is “lived” in all “things”) but
a primary life force itself. Mutatis mutandis, this can be taken as the shared foundation of all concepts of
qi in ancient and later pre-modern Chinese thought.
Furthermore—and
contrary to A’s statement in the last indented statement above—pure ‘matter’ (
sukdun/qi) has
no form from the angle of the (at the time of de la Charme) paradigmatic philosophy of Zhu Xi and his Neo-Confucian school of
Lixue. It is ‘below form’ (
xing er xia 形而下), while what is meant by the use of the Manchu word
giyan (which is the translation term for
li 理 in this context) is ‘above form’ (
xing er shang 形而上). The forms and appearances of (processual) ‘things’ (
wu 物) are the constant result of the, so to speak,
“entanglement” of
li—that is, the self-organizing and self-processing principle of
yin–yang which, according to Zhu Xi, has neither beginning nor end (
Kim 2000, p. 51)—and the primordial “matter-energetic” dynamis of
qi. Schmidt points out that, according to Zhu Xi,
li (von der Gabelentz:
Vernunft) depends on and follows the (immanent, chaotic) movement of
qi (von der Gabelentz:
Materie)
but also guides it, just as, to use Zhu Xi’s image, the rider is moved where the horse goes, while the horse goes where the rider leads it (
Schmidt 2005, p. 199; cf. also
Bartosch 2022, p. 398). From this angle, spiritual and “material” aspects can be discerned conceptually, but
they cannot be separated—at least not from the original contemporary
Chinese point of view.
Moreover, von der Gabelentz’s following reference to statements by de la Charme (whom he believes to be an unknown Chinese author) in the preface of his translation increases the contrast with traditional Chinese views:
“Another property of matter is extension, mutun, which is described in the preface to our work [de la Charme’s preface in SLJBH] as the general concept of length and shortness, width and narrowness, largeness and smallness, density and thinness, of multitude and fewness”.
The use of the word
mutun ![Religions 16 00891 i025]()
in the sense of such a
general abstract concept is unusual. According to von der Gabelentz’s own 1864 Manchu dictionary, the Manchu word
mutun usually means “
Wuchs,
Wachsthum;
überflüssig” (
von der Gabelentz 1864b, p. 153), that is, ‘growth’, ‘increase’, ‘superfluous’ (cf. also
Norman 1978, p. 206). It can designate the
concrete manifestation of a form of a thing, but rendering it in the sense of a general concept of
extended geometric (Euclidean) space reveals the hidden presence of Cartesian concepts once again.
In a preparatory work for the present text, I have already referred to the fact that, if compared with the views of Zhu Xi, spatial extension in the
abstract geometric sense or in the sense of
a property of a substance (in the contemporary Western sense) is
not a fundamental characteristic of
qi 氣 (
Bartosch 2022, p. 398), respectively,
sukdun ![Religions 16 00891 i004]()
(in the sense of the Manchu translation term). Rather, the
qi of any possible thing we can think of that appears and emerges into form is determined by the
li principle in the sense of a transformative, yet (as such) beginningless, advancing and retreating, and in this sense “oscillating”, dynamic of
yin–yang (p. 399), and even the “‘universal foundation’ (
Allgrund) […] is not in a condition of static rest, but is in a state of perpetual motion, an uninterrupted […]
expansion and contraction vibrates through it” (
Graf 1953b, p. 69, tr. and italics DB). This also includes the contracting exhalation and the expanding inhalation of air (
Graf 1953a, p. 138, fn. 259;
1953b, pp. 69, 78). Also other Neo-Confucian perspectives, namely that of the
Xinxue 心學 school of the Ming dynasty, e.g., Wang Yangming 王陽明 (1472–1529), etc., recognize the expansion and retreat of
qi and the associated levels of the intensity of life in expressing the rhythm with the seasons (cf.
Wang 1933, pp. 59–60; cf. also
Bartosch 2015, pp. 101–3 [my translation of the passage];
2022, p. 399, fn. 43).
41According to my knowledge, the original Manchu perspectives, which, as we have seen further above, do not even contain an original general term for ‘matter’ and also do not contain a concept of mutun in the general sense of abstract geometric space (de la Charme: “the general concept of length and shortness, width and narrowness, largeness and smallness”; see above, last indented quote) either. It would be a separate research task to find out whether the Manchu elites at the Imperial Court might have developed such a concept in their study of European mathematics and science with the Jesuits. In view of the present investigation, this has to remain a pending question.
From another angle, however, namely against the background of what has been said earlier with regard to the ‘second soul’ of the Manchu threefold ‘soul’ concept (see
Section 3.6), the
original meaning of the term
mutun, that is,
‘growth’ and ‘increase’ (see above), turns out to be relevant with regard to the hypothesis of an implicit or concealed accommodation of concepts. In my view, it is possible that it is used deliberately here in the sense of an additional allusion with regard to the Manchu ‘second soul’. As previously demonstrated, this idea of the Manchu shamanic second soul can be brought together (albeit on the basis of a rather
vague resonance of meanings) with de la Charme’s materialistic and implicitly Cartesian reinterpretation of the (Han) Neo-Confucian concepts
li 理 and
yin–yang 陰陽 in the sense that it carries the meaning of representing a biological and physiological function (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52). However, one has to keep in mind that the related common meaning of the term
mutun ᠮᡠᡨᡠᠨ in the original Manchu sense is
implicitly rendered by de la Charme from a reference
to biological and physiological processes (principle of growth!) to
a principle of abstract extension of an extended material realm to which the body and all animals belong in the preface of
SLJBH (see above, the last indented quote).
What de la Charme does here, again, is to implicitly superimpose concealed elements of René Descartes’s view of things in the context of an
implicit (that is, rhetoric-based, non-comparative, yet accommodating) triangulation of explicit elements of Han philosophy, allusions to Manchu shamanism, and concealed Christian/Cartesian elements. De la Charme’s definition of ‘matter’ in terms of a property of geometrical extension (cf. also the Chinese
XLZTG,
Sun 1753c, “Xiao yin 小引”, n.p.), namely by using the Manchu term
mutun, can only be properly identified by taking into account the basic Cartesian concept
res extensa here. As discussed earlier, Descartes’s world view was very influential at the time when de la Charme had received his academic education, and it became fashionable also in Jesuit contexts by the time he went to China, namely due to the contribution of his Jesuit colleague Noël Regnault (1683–1762). In my view, this background is the only reasonable explanation to explain the conceptual dichotomy between a formed but absolutely lifeless
mechanistic matter and an
exclusively human soul in
SLJBH, Book 1.
3.8. Cartesian Ideas III: The Cartesian Human–Animal Divide Versus Original Chinese Views
In the ninth chapter of
SLJBH, Book 1, this implicit Cartesian superimposition on (quasi) Confucian contexts becomes even more obvious. Here, de la Charme puts the following question into the mouth of his “younger” dialogue figure B: “The newer philosopher [
Der neuere Philosoph] says: But let us consider animals: they also have the ability to think and act. Do you also call their cognitive nature a soul?” The “elder” philosopher A then answers as follows:
“But even if we say that animals can think and desire, their thinking and desiring are completely different from those of humans, if we compare them closely. For humans can enlighten reason [giyan/li 理, in the sense of a lower “reasonableness” in the material process of the world], distinguish truth from falsehood, separate right from wrong, do good or evil, can make decisions, distinguish between the strong and the weak, follow what is good, and avoid what is evil. Animals, however, do not have this ability; their life principle is only of a cognitive nature [merely expressing the objective ‘reason’ giyan/li of material processes], and one must recognize that they have no soul”.
In de la Charme’s view, only the human being is a “non-determined living being” (
nicht festgestelltes Lebewesen), to borrow a term from
Nietzsche (
1921, para. 62, p. 88, tr. DB); see also
Bartosch (
2022, p. 411). De la Charme sees this as proof of the exclusivity of a human ‘soul’ (
sure banin), namely in the sense of Descartes’s realm of
res cogitans (see also
Section 3.4). While the “human being creates a language by means of tones and sounds, determining measures and customs with it, and explores the secrets and depths of the heart” (
Sun 1840, p. 272, tr. and insertions DB), the animals “cannot produce a specific [form of] speech” (p. 271, tr. DB).
In Descartes’s
Discours de la méthode pour bien conduire sa raison et chercher la vérité dans les sciences (A Discourse on the Method of Correctly Conducting One’s Reason and Seeking Truth in the Sciences, 1637), we can read the following famous passage:
“[… T]here are no men […] that […] are incapable of stringing together different words, and composing them into utterances, through which they let their thoughts be known; and, conversely, there is no other animal, no matter how perfect and well endowed by birth it may be, that can do anything similar. [… M]agpies and parrots can utter words as we do, and yet cannot speak like us, that is, by showing that they are thinking what they are saying […]. This shows not only that animals have less reason than man, but that they have none at all. […] And speech must not be confused with the natural movements that are signs of passion and can be imitated by machines as well by as animals […]”.
Obviously, de la Charme superimposes this characteristically Cartesian position on the original Chinese world view. He defines the
li 理 (Manchu:
giyan; von der Gabelentz:
Vernunft ‘reason’) as belonging to the realm of soulless and lifeless aspects of the universe. In the fourth chapter of Book 1 of
SLJBH, de la Charme defines the functional reality of
giyan/li in terms of an objective reason, namely its defining principles of
yin and
yang, as “material beings [
materielle Wesen], […] due to [which …] their original nature is defined” (
Sun 1840, p. 263, tr. DB).
Although de la Charme also tries to make
implicit concessions to the Manchu spirits (
Shirokogoroff 1935) when he states that the allegedly
material yin and
yang are not identical with spirits and demons (
Sun 1840, p. 261), all of this, of course, is not congruent with the paradigmatic branch of contemporary (Han Chinese) Neo-Confucian lore. De la Charme’s concealed approach to a rendering of traditional Chinese concepts is therefore revealed once more. I have previously said that, in the original picture,
li (Manchu:
giyan) belongs to the “metaphysical” realm ‘above form’ (
xing er shang 形而上) and not to that of the (actually life-emerging (!) dynamics, see further above) of
qi (Manchu:
sukdun). From a systematic point of view, there is also a logical contradiction to be found in de la Charme’s assimilating and yet worldview-altering rhetoric. If only humans have a soul, how can spirits and demons
not be material? According to de la Charme, however, only the human being can escape the objective determination of this
allegedly purely physical principle of ‘reason’ (von der Gabelentz’s historical translation for
giyan/li), or rather, the “automatic” workings and determinations of its implicitly “Westernized”
yin–yang base.
In resonance with Descartes’s views, “the animals are [thus, exclusively] material [or rather, physical objects]” (
Sun 1840, p. 263), according to de la Charme. They have only a
soulless life principle—cognitively expressing material reality like puppets on a string, according to de la Charme (see the penultimate indented quote above). This clearly reflects Descartes’s view, according to which the animals neither reach the level of human thought nor have a soul. It is also important to recognize that this is related to his Catholic faith:
“Since Descartes also bases the immortality of the soul on its [ability of independent] thinking, he could not allow this [kind of] thinking in animals unless he also wished to make them immortal, as Plato does. Therefore, according to Descartes, animals only have life spirits [moving their muscles], but no soul”.
Of course, de la Charme also tries to “color” his views in a “Confucian(izing)” way, so to speak. He has the (“younger”) philosopher B say: “If human beings can glorify law and reason, but animals cannot, it is because human nature has been given the straight [Manchu:
tob] part, while animal nature has been given the crooked [Manchu:
urchun] part” (
Sun 1840, p. 273, tr. DB, insertions taken from the original footnotes.). I have already shown in
Bartosch (
2022, p. 417) that this passage plays with Zhu Xi’s position that animals cannot and do not have to cultivate themselves morally, while humans, manifesting different possible grades of integrity, or rather, different “shades” of the (reversible) deterioration of their personal
qi 氣 (
Bartosch 2015, pp. 539–40) and original goodness, must morally “straighten” (
zheng 正) themselves out (
Bartosch 2022, p. 417).
In Zhu Xi’s original perspective, however, this does not mean a general categorical difference between humans and animals, because humans and animals share the same properties of
li 理 and
qi 氣 (here in the sense of Zhu Xi’s concepts) and, as mentioned above, there is no concept of ‘soul’ in the sense of de la Charme or any possible Manchu positions here (
Bartosch 2022, p. 417). This is, of course, also the reason why the “elder”
Cartesian “Confucian” must criticize this (well-established) point of view: “Not only does one fail to distinguish and separate human nature and animal nature [with this human versus animal distinction between ‘straight’ and ‘crooked’], but one also mixes and merges the two [sides] into one” (
Sun 1840, p. 273, tr. and insertion DB). As already shown in
Bartosch (
2022, pp. 418–19), de la Charme then shifts the perspective even further. By applying the distinction ‘straight versus crooked’ exclusively to the realm of human morality, he
implicitly, so to speak, “opens the door” to the Christian dogma of eternal sin and also
to the image of man as crooked wood in
Eccl. 1:15, as well as, in redemptive contrast,
Luke 3:5—of course without mentioning any of this explicitly. This, of course, is a completely different position compared to the paradigmatic Chinese view of contemporary Neo-Confucians, who, following Mengzi 孟子 (c.370–c.290 BCE) in this regard,
believed in the original goodness of the human being at birth (see also
Bartosch 2015, pp. 539–42, etc.).
In my opinion, de la Charme also plays with motifs of Manchu shamanism in an allusive and vague way here, namely by trying to implicitly superimpose his (Sinicized) Cartesian perspective on the differentiation between humans and animals in Manchu shamanism. In
Section 3.6, I have already mentioned that there was a controversy among the Manchu whether the ‘first soul’ or ‘true soul’ exists in animals or not (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52). From de la Charme’s angle, it would make sense to influence the discourses of the Manchu elites in this direction, namely by shifting the perspectives from the original ones to the implicitly European ones. Of course, as discovered earlier in
Section 3.6, there are differences between the former and the latter that have to be taken into account from a modern comparative perspective. De la Charme’s quasi-Cartesian model of the ‘soul’ (
sure banin) does not, or rather, cannot argue the case for a threefold soul (p. 52) in the original sense of the Manchu concept, of course. And I have already pointed out that the view of a ‘third soul’ segment that “may be reincarnated into other people
and animals” (p. 52, italics DB) is absolutely incompatible with Catholic Christian views.
Moreover, in his general conclusion regarding Tungusic (including Manchu) views, Shirokogoroff states that the “phenomenon of ‘thought’ and ‘will’ is not [viewed as] the same as ‘soul’ and it is also characteristic of the animals” (1935, p. 53; see also pp. 70–86). This also relates to the earlier-mentioned difference regarding the Manchu notion of the relationship between ‘consciousness’, which characterizes the first soul, and ‘thought’ being produced in the heart and in connection to the liver. Against the background of this body-relatedness of thought, Descartes’s “magpies and parrots” as automata (see above) are opposed in Tungusic worldviews by “not deny[ing] certain intelligence of the BIRDS [sic!]” (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 84).
“[Moreover], the Tungus recognize that animals possess certain mental abilities which may sometimes be superior to those of man, but which are usually inferior, and at least in some animals reduced to such a minimum that the Tungus are not sure whether or not these animals have any mental activity. However, those animals which possess a high mentality, even superior to that of man, are not like man, for their mentality is different. For instance, the tiger in Manchuria is considered by the Tungus as a very intelligent animal. In fact, this animal may easily lead the man on a false track and when the hunter loses the tiger from his sight it may follow the hunter and kill him at any moment”.
Such more nuanced perspectives are apparently accommodated by de la Charme in the sense that he allows animals to participate in li, that is, the objective reason in the sense of a general “reasonableness” of the processes of the universe (see above). However, the way he puts this and renders the concept of li as an aspect of the extended physicality of things, the animals still follow some sort of “quasi-automated” structures in an implicit Cartesian sense. His argument is that only humans create evolving cultures and are not determined in their actions, as we have already seen.
In view of de la Charme’s transposition and superimposition of implicitly Cartesian motifs on the contemporary Chinese landscape of thought and spirituality one may ask the following:
If the processes of animal consciousness belong strictly to a lifeless ‘matter’ (
sukdun/qi), how can they include a (soulless) ‘life principle’ (
Lebensprinzip)? How can animals
lose their life, how can they ever die, if they merely represent the level of mere
lifeless material (
Sun 1840, p. 263), that is, if they belong to the realm of ‘the lifeless’ (
das Leblose) per se (p. 256)?
A ‘lifeless life principle’ makes no more sense than a wooden iron (see also
Bartosch 2022, p. 411), but this is what de la Charme tries to argue for. He often ignores such inconsistencies, while developing his position of animals as beings “who are docile, teachable, but not ensouled” (
Sun 1840, p. 272, tr. DB). One has to ask how animals can be ‘docile’ (
gelehrig), if they are “restricted with regard to one business, cannot change or adopt another way” (p. 273, tr. DB).
If we do not want to deny de la Charme some philosophical talent at this point, one has to assume that he has something like the Manchu ‘second soul’, that is, the ‘soul which precedes’ (see
Section 3.6), in mind here, namely with its biological (power of continuity) and physiological (growth) function (
Shirokogoroff 1935, p. 52)—nota bene
without calling it a soul and by designating it as ‘life principle’ instead. If this conjecture is in the right direction, one can say that, with this artifice, he succeeds
in alluding simultaneously (!) to the Manchu background and to Descartes’s ‘animal spirits’ (
spiritus animalis)—the latter of which he adumbrates by means of his decontextualized and rendered conceptuality of a
materialist notion of (pseudo-)“
li 理”/(pseudo-)“
giyan ![Religions 16 00891 i005]()
” and a Westernized, quasi-Cartesian concept of “
qi 氣”/“
sukdun ![Religions 16 00891 i004]()
” that implicitly conveys the idea of Descartes’s
res extensa, namely in the sense of de la Charme’s conceptual rendering, or rather, geometrization of
mutun ![Religions 16 00891 i025]()
. The idea that animals are docile could be an implicit concession with regard to the Manchu context of
SLJBH, namely the understanding that thought is generally present in the biological or physiological domain of the second soul according to the Manchu world view. On the other hand, de la Charme makes sure that this kind of inflexible, merely reactive cognition is something
completely different from the
non-determined human form of thought, which he then ascribes, in an unmistakable Cartesian manner, to the consciousness of the non-extended soul. The latter has no stakes in anything material (see
Section 3.4).
From a contemporary native speaker/reader perspective, this would not only mean the necessity to decide whether to follow the author in denying animals the ‘true soul’, that is, consciousness and self-awareness in the sense of Manchu shamanism, but it would request from the native Manchu readership to perform a significant shift from traditional Manchu views regarding the nature and “location” of ‘thought’ (
gunin ![Religions 16 00891 i021]()
): It would request the recognition of a uniquely human form of thought that is not determined by any physical restrictions and can only be a manifestation of a
non-extended ‘soul’ (
sure fayangga/
sure banin). Furthermore, it would request the recognition that this
exclusively human ‘soul’ and form of ‘thought’ stands in unsurmountable opposition to a separate realm of perceived physicality or ‘matter’ (
sukdun) that is characterized by new,
abstract understandings of (a) ‘extension’ (
mutun) and (b) of an embedded, objective, and material ‘rationality’ (
giyan)—namely in the behavior and adaptability of animals in their equally unsurmountable material determinacy.